#thread: frozen together

[agentpeggycarterrogers]

Frozen Together

with @americansentinel

Steve

The plan was far from simple, but simply put, they were raining Hell down on HYDRA and Schmidt's head. For Steve he was doing it for Bucky, for the others, well they were doing it to end the war. There was only one small snag, Schmidt was getting away in a plane and if he took off then it would all be for nothing. Peggy was at his side and Philips was speeding down the runway trying to catch the plane before take off. Steve turned to Peggy.

Peggy

She was ready and she nodded. "Always ready," Peggy replied. They jumped together and dashed up the plane. Steve gave her a boost and then they were aboard the Valkyrie.

Peggy was here to support him, to help the cause, so she pulled out her pistol and fired on Schmidt's lackeys who approached them. "Go get him!" she called to Steve. "I've got this - I can handle it. I'll find you."

Steve

He knew he needed to stick with the plan. Peggy could handle herself just fine.

Still, Steve couldn't just run off to fight Schmidt without doing this first.

"In a second, there's something I need to do first." Summoning all his courage, Steve grabbed Peggy by the waist and kissed her.

"Okay. Now I can go get him."

Peggy

Peggy wrapped her arms around his neck, savoring the moment for longer than she should. She had wanted a kiss for so long. How was she supposed to concentrate on her fight now that Steve had kissed her like this? 

"Steve Rogers, that better not be a goodbye kiss!" she called. 

She watched him go and then continued to blast her way through Schmidt's henchman and neutralize the plane as best they could. One threat at a time, and then they could take out Red Skull, end the war, and save the world.

Steve

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Steve called back as he rushed off to find Schmidt.

Battling his way through HYDRA operatives, Steve finally made his way to the cockpit where the Red Skull was waiting for him.

Peggy

By the time Peggy found her way to the cockpit, Red Skull was gone, and there was a gaping hole in the floor. "STEVE!" she screamed, and held on to something. "Are you here? Are you alright?" The plane lurched and took a dive and she yelped.

Steve

Everything he'd just seen was too much for him to handle, but when he heard her scream his name he snapped out of it.

"Peggy!" Tearing himself away from the hole in the floor he grabbed the controls and pulled back to level out. The damn thing was on auto pilot so as long as he kept it level, they'd be alright.

"I'm here, Schmidt's dead!"

Peggy

"Steve!" she yelped again and pulled herself across the perimeter of the room, staying as far away from the hole as she could. "That hole...it goes all the way through." 

She reached the Captain's chair, her Captain's side, and held on. "He's dead, and now what? Can we turn this thing around...or?" Or were they going to crash? Were they losing fuel?  Did they have radio navigation? 

"Get Howard on the line, he'll know what to do."

Steve

"It's moving too fast, and it's headed for New York." Steve said, reaching for the radio.

"Can you fly this thing?" If she could keep the plane steady he could deal with Howard.

"Keep it steady."

Peggy

“Fly this *thing?”* Peggy gasped. “You want me to fly a plane?” She climbed into the copilot’s chair. “Steve, I…I can’t. I’ll try, but I can’t.” She reached for the controls, and the buttons indeed were all in German. 

Howard would know what to do; he’d find them a safe place to land. She nodded, and tried her best to keep the plane as steady as she could.

Steve

"Just keep it steady, Peg." Steve said grabbing the radio's handset and silently praying Howard would know what to do. It was Jim Morita on the line at first but after Steve explained that he was on the Valkyrie with Agent Carter and they needed to talk to Howard right now, there was a scramble on the other end of the line. It felt like forever before Howard's voice came through the speaker asking what was happening.

Peggy

Peggy nodded and did her best. After some trial and error, she managed to keep the  plane *steady * as Steve directed. She listened to Jim and Howard's conversation. 

"We'll find you a safe landing site," Howard said. 

Peggy yelped as the plane lost more altitude and dipped. There wasn't going to be a safe landing. 

"Howard, follow our path, you'll find us..." Peggy called. That's what radios were for, right? If there was anything left to find, that is. She turned to Steve.  "Steve, *help me*, please, my darling.  I can't..."

[floral-flames]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── K U A I L I A N G

༄ - Cold to the Touch || Faceclaim 

༄ - Frozen Breaths || Headcanon 

༄ - Hands Made of Ice || Answered 

༄ - Winter Winds || Aesthetic 

༄ - We Do This Together || Thread 

༄ - Icy Heart || Open Thread

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒚 ✩࿐

pairings: alhaitham, diluc, kaeya, and zhongli x gn!reader (separate)

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, arguments (unspecified reason), reader and character live together

summary: after a heated conflict with your boyfriend, you decide to sleep on the couch instead of together on your shared bed. how does he react?

a/n: shockingly, i'm not writing for any anemo boys this time. that's mainly because this is a gift for @spiritingawaytoanime for @favonius-library's gift exchange event! i hope you enjoy!

The sound of the front door closing is the only sound that can be heard as ALHAITHAM steps into your living room. An ocean of pitch-blackness threatens to drown him. The space lacks illumination. Darkness floods into every crack and crevice of your home, invading an otherwise peaceful space.

He breathes out a sigh as he walks down the hallway of your shared apartment. Alhaitham doesn’t bother flicking on the lights. He knows you’re probably asleep already, and he’d rather not disturb you, especially since you were in a foul mood earlier. So unpleasant, in fact, that you got into a petty argument with him. However, Alhaitham isn’t really that worried. He knows that in the end, you’ll be able to sort out your differences.

But when he enters the bedroom, he immediately feels that something is off. The air feels colder than usual, biting his skin with the ferocity of a thousand cuts. It’s unsettling and especially disturbing to Alhaitham because such feelings don’t often overtake his frozen heart. It almost feels as though the atmosphere has the ability to thaw his emotions, awakening a sentimental side of himself that doesn’t often show beyond his rational demeanour.

When he approaches the side of your bed, he instantaneously realizes what’s wrong. You’re not here. You’re not here. An unfamiliar feeling drives pinpricks into his heart. The sensation is strange, irritating, and it won’t go away. He hasn’t ever felt this way before. Perhaps this is another emotion to add to the list of new feelings being with you has caused him to experience.

Alhaitham sighs. It’s not like he wasn’t expecting this outcome. He had been far too cold earlier while you had been far too emotional. Ice and fire would never coalesce into a single being.

The feelings that accompany the situation are all a complete mystery to him. Nonetheless, he buries his emotions so that he can focus on finding you, maintaining his logical front in the face of such a precarious situation.

As your lover, he knows you well, so he’s almost entirely sure he knows where you’ve gone. Alhaitham shakes his head. He should have checked right when he entered the house. After all, the couches were right by the door.

Once again, Alhaitham walks blindly through the darkness, taking it step-by-step without so much as a stumble in his gait as he makes his way down a hallway that has long engraved itself in his memories. It’s odd. Alhaitham doesn’t usually go out of his way to become involved in the affairs of others, much less memorize details about their lives. But with you, everything is different. He remembers every single intricate thread of information in the web that forms your identity.

And perhaps that’s why he feels a sense of calm wash over him like cerulean waves on a pristine summer day as he approaches your sleeping form. As he takes in the sight of your silhouette against the backdrop of night, he notices that you appear to be shivering slightly. You don’t have a blanket on.

“Typical [name],” he whispers under his breath. 

Although his words sound rather harsh and slanderous, he utters them with hints of a small smile gracing his face.

Quietly, Alhaitham walks over to a closet in which you keep a multitude of blankets. He takes his time selecting one — after all, he’s in no rush. Eventually, he settles on a velvety blanket that feels soft to the touch. Although Alhaitham can’t exactly picture it in the dark, he knows that it will be sufficient.

So with an insurmountable level of care, he drapes it onto your body. Even though he can be insensitive at times, Alhaitham knows that you most likely want some space for now, so with a gentle ghost of a kiss to your cheek, he leaves the room.

The silence that fills the house rings in DILUC’s ears, shrieking in a manner reminiscent of thousands of crystal glasses shattering into pieces. It’s deafening. The space feels as though it is full of nothing but misery and doubt and yet it’s so, so empty at the same time.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sound of a clock’s arms snapping into place in one second intervals is the only sign of life within the building. Every space on the canvas of night is blank as if awaiting wonderous stars to fill the nothingness with inquisitive light. However, the illumination doesn’t come. Tales of galaxies serendipitously brightening worlds are simply idealistic fantasies from the minds of children. In the real world, things seldom end so well without any intervention.

So he decides to slowly get out of bed, leaving the warmth under the covers — a heat that feels far too stifling without you — in order to search for you. But as the abyssal air of night brushes against Diluc’s skin, he feels a shiver run down his spine. Nothing feels right without you by his side. He needs you. Now.

Diluc knows you’re sleeping on the couch. He saw you there when he was going to bed, but at the time, pride and petty emotions whispered words of spite in the depths of his soul, phrases that prompted him to ignore you.

As he navigates the dimly-lit hallways of your shared home, a wave of regret washes over him. If only things hadn’t gotten so heated when you were still immersed in the waking world together. Now you’re asleep, and he’s lost any chance he has of making things right today. If he wants to apologize, then patience will be crucial.

However, at the same time, Diluc wants to check up on you. So when he finally makes his way through the doorway of the living room, his eyes immediately land on your figure, burning with the light of a thousand fires, almost as though they are casting a glow upon your silhouette. The moonlight illuminates you, caressing every strand of your hair and highlighting every dip and curve of your features to make you look absolutely ethereal.

As Diluc approaches you, he notices that you’re barely covered by a thin blanket, and despite the feeble layer of protection, the frigid atmosphere of night seems to permeate your soul. He shakes his head slightly, sighing as he stares at you. No matter how angry he was at you during the day, Diluc can’t just leave you here to freeze.

So with bated breath, he picks you up while you’re still immersed in a universe of dreamy fantasies and carries you to your room. He thanks all his years of training with a claymore for giving him the ability to lift you. Although you’re not on the best of terms, Diluc is sure that you’ll make up once morning comes, and thus, a vibrant new dawn will overlook the horizon for both of you.

Shivers wrack KAEYA’s body as he tosses and turns restlessly in a bed that feels far too large and far too empty for his liking. It’s peculiar. The cold rarely bothers him, yet now, without you by his side, the frigidness of the night air is far too potent for his liking. Tendrils of night creep under the covers overtop him, wrapping around him with an icy fervor, and no matter how hard he tries to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he can’t.

It’s as though the brighter part of himself has faded away with the radiance of the sun, giving way to an indescribable melancholy that settles into every inch of his being, taking all that he has and becoming all that he is. The cold is so much more unbearable without your warmth, and it doesn’t take long before he realizes that he won’t be able to close his eyes peacefully and drift into a tranquil world full of glacial wonderlands. Instead, he’ll lie awake, alone in your freezing bed — a place that feels far too desolate without your presence.

Hours stretch on and on, twisting and turning in a way that morphs them into a neverending story. As time goes on, the unsettling embers that had once singed the pit of Kaeya’s stomach grow until they blaze brightly, morphing into a raging fire. It’s unbearable, and he knows that he has to do something or else his mind will continue nagging at him for the remainder of the evening.

With cautious movements, he sits up and climbs out of bed. It’s awfully quiet in the house. Usually, flirtatious remarks and passionate displays of affection fill the void within your home, transforming it into a utopia overflowing with wonders. However, at the moment, none of that exists. Perpetual darkness and transient flashes of anxiety are the only things present at the moment. However, he manages to carefully make his way down the hallway without much issue. The creaking of the floorboards is the only noise that cuts through the silence hanging in the air.

As Kaeya enters the living room, his eyes land on a figure lying on the couch. It’s you. He breathes out a sigh, approaching you. Kaeya can see the rising and falling of your chest, hear your gentle breaths, and feel you exhaling once he leans in to examine your face. You look as though you’re at peace — a stark contrast to your earlier demeanour, an act fueled by feelings of rage and spite.

A small smile tugs on the corners of his lips. You look ethereal, although slightly pitiful, your face tinted with the light of the moon. His heart breaks. You appear lonely without his arms wrapped around you. Kaeya feels the urge to pull you into his embrace, hold you tight, protect you from the unknown monsters of the night.

But instead of doing anything, he simply stands there. After your explosive argument, he’s still hesitant to touch you. However, upon closer examinations, Kaeya sees you shaking like a leaf in an intense gale. You’re freezing. And that’s the final straw.

Your boyfriend finally breaks under the weight of your needs and his desires. With steady movements and a fragile touch, he lifts your body just the slightest bit — barely enough for him to climb onto the couch under you. Gradually, he sets you down, laying your head down on his chest. His fingers graze over your features as he eyes you with a gaze full of admiration.

“Sweet dreams, babe. We’ll figure everything out once the sun rises.”

ZHONGLI sighs as he settles atop the plush covers of your shared bed alone. It feels cold — far too frigid for his liking as darkness encroaches, and although he glances out the window in hopes of seeing a single shard of fragmented starlight, he is greeted with nothing more than the sight of an endless abyss devoid of radiance. 

A chill permeates every bone in his body, gnawing at him in a way that serves as a perpetual reminder that you’re not beside him right now. It’s strange. For once, Zhongli feels restless. He’s usually so calm, so composed. But at the moment, he can’t help but worry. 

You’re not here with him. Instead, you’re out in the living room, curled up alone on the couch. Zhongli can picture you in flawless detail — every dip and curve of your troubled face, the shadows that shroud you in a cloak fashioned from midnight, and the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe in and out. He feels a longing that he hasn’t felt in centuries. He wants to be beside you to trace your features, to prevent the glacial fingers of night from creeping down your back, and to feel your breath fanning his face.

However, he knows that no matter how hard he wishes, his hopes and dreams will have to be put on hold for now. In hindsight, it was a bad idea to let you escape into the land of slumber without trying to work things out with you first because now, Zhongli feels as though he won’t get a wink of sleep. At least, not without you by his side.

Eventually, he caves to all the thoughts running through his head; guilt threatens to swallow him whole. So instead of continuing to chase sleep, Zhongli gets out of bed, and although the night air sends a shiver down his spine, the sensation is nothing compared to his need for you. Quietly, he makes his way into your living room, trying to keep his footfalls light out of fear of waking you up. His eyes have long since adjusted to the darkness, so he navigates the house without any real trouble.

When he arrives at his destination, his gaze immediately zones in on a silhouette lying on one of the couches in the room. Although obscured by darkness, he knows that it’s you. Cautiously, he bends down to observe you. Zhongli raises his hand in order to caress your cheeks, his touch feather-light as if he’s afraid that you’ll shatter.

He wants nothing more than to wake you right now and talk things out, but he doesn’t want to disturb your slumber. You seem so peaceful despite everything that happened earlier, and besides, Zhongli is sure that with time, the two of you will make up. Your love for each other is much stronger than any form of false resentment fostered by petty arguments. After all, the illusions created by a deceptive heart are far too easy to dispel with feelings of everlasting passion and affection.

So instead of rousing you from the oneiric realm of dreams, Zhongli sits down on a couch beside the one you’re lying on. Although his mind has not completely settled yet, it feels less perturbed with you by his side. As a master of patience, he decides that he’ll wait for you to wake up. He’ll wait for the first rays of light to grace the face of the earth in order to greet you with a smile and an apology once you open your eyes.

Thank you for reading!

[aweina]

HI CAN I REQUEST MIKE SCHMIDT X FEM READER?? MAYBE SOME FLUFF I JUST- UGH I NEED HIM. anyways. PLEASE? THANKS! REMEMBER TO HYDRATE!

ᥫ᭡. winter heart , mike schmidt ( fluff )

you and me, hugging ? if you want …

tags fem + gn reader. pining. friends to ( redacted ). mike tries to be a meanie but he can’t. special abby cameo.

“cold?”

mike quirks a brow at your shivering form, the lack of warm layers and no sign of any other winter accessory made him visibly cringe.

“o-obviously.” your teeth clattered with heavy pronunciation, clinging to yourself for some ounce of warmth. “t-the forecast are liars, i’ll never trust them a-again.”

he huffs a laugh at your retort, his breath condensing into the winter air — swirling aimlessly into the filtered blue atmosphere. mike was extremely amused, he could tell you that. during the coldest seasons, you decided to only wear a sleeved shirt constructed with the thinnest fabric he’s ever seen.

you play dumb games, you win stupid prizes. he believes wholeheartedly.

at the same time, he grew concerned. your reddened nose sniffled in the cold air, shakily clinging onto your shirt like it could get any warmer. your brows were furrowed in discomfort, the moisture of your lips stolen by the crisp breeze. even in this condition, you stayed with him to watch abby — who was bustling in the frozen playground with her new friends.

instinctively, mike tugs down the zipper of his oversized fleece hoodie — the bulky layers he wore combating the bitter cold. he turns to your shivering form, suddenly feeling shy about his decision, but seeing you in such a vulnerable state for his own sake made him feel guilty. mike bites back a self-encouraging sigh, shaking his head in an attempt to get rid of the fluttering feeling inside his core. with his gloved hands snug in his pockets, he widens his arms to open his furry jacket — coughing dumbly to catch your attention.

you turned to him and tilted your head in confusion, darting your eyes towards his flushed face to the baggy graphic t-shirt and the oversized jacket that cling to his body, somehow it felt like a mockery to your cold state.

“haha … nice jacket, i know you’re much more warmer and smarter than me. you don’t have to rub it in.” you jested through a freezing hiss, rolling your eyes at his attempt to push your buttons.

“w-what? wait no! just come here, please.” his voice sounded a bit more desperate than he intended it to be, but he usually doesn’t offer this treatment to anybody.

still confused, you shuffled towards him with caution. you silently gasped when you got closer, feeling the comforting warmth radiating off his body.

mike gulps nervously, feeling your panting chest grazing his. it was a strange feeling, how in sync your heartbeats were — they danced in the rhyme together, the tempo seemed to quicken as you approached him closer and closer. finally, he finds the courage to wrap his fleece jacket around your quivering body, hesitantly hugging you through the thick fabric.

your eyes widen in realization, he’s hugging you. mike schmidt is hugging you. he felt so warm and cuddly, all the lousy layers of old t-shirts he forced himself to wear felt like laying on soft pillows. the fur threaded in his jacket brushed its warmth against your frozen skin. but the thing making you burn up was the fact you’re so close to mike, shyly wrapping your arms around his frame while your head is nearly tucked into the nape of his neck — but you hesitated to go any further.

“are you warm?” mike’s voice was gentle in your ear, the flush of his body melted your bitter coldness in an instant.

you slightly nodded, still a little disoriented from this predicament.

feeling more comfortable, mike takes his gloved hand out of his pocket, assuring your stiffness as he petted your head, guiding you to rest in the nape of his neck. his warm pulse tapped softly against your forehead. you could hear his life line — every breath he takes. this felt like heaven, being held in mike’s arms. then he’s not protesting, his melting grip was tighter — protective like someone could snatch you away from his arms. he loved the way you smelled, delicate perfume and fresh laundry. if he could keep this close and take in your scent, he would if it wasn’t so creepy for him to do.

there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. the childlike chants and laughter faded into the background, the bitter cold didn’t feel so bad anymore. it felt like your hearts were clinging onto each other, feeding the aching starvation of touch and warmth. he needed this, you needed it too.

“are you guys finally dating now?”

a youthful voice forced you both out of a love trance, eyes widened and heads snapped towards the smaller figure. it was abby, a huge grin on her flushed face — half covered with a comically large knitted scarf.

“abby … don’t.” mike winced at her bluntness, but he still held you in a warm embrace.

you allowed him to cling onto you, equally flustered at her words but much more comfortable, even playful at the weird circumstances.

“i’m still patiently waiting for your brother to ask me out.” you teased the younger schmidt, earning an excited giggle and an exasperated sigh from the older schmidt.

maybe he should’ve just offered you his jacket if you were going to embarrass him in front of his younger sister.

add. note : hope you enjoyed some fluff anon !! and thank you, stay hydrated too because we’re all thirsty for grumpy security guard mikey ㅜ ㅜ

[lixxpix]

gone - b.c

genre: angst, breakup

synopsis: you shouldn't have married me. the words rang in your head, eyes widening ever so slightly as your fragile heart finally shattered like a piece of glass, the final blow delivered by chan's words.

word count: 0.4k (short drabble)

author's note: just a short drabble to keep y'all entertained while i write my longer fics:]

"why can't you just leave me alone??" chan was on the brink of exhaustion, and you nagging at him was not helping at all.

"chan-" you began, but was cut off by him almost immediately. "no! you tell me to sleep every single day, you call me 15 times in one day, you won't let me have even a single fucking second to myself!" chan's hands gripped at his hair as he yelled, gesturing around wildly.

"i just tell you to take care of yourself! you stay up until 3am in the morning, never eat and starve yourself, you never even say a fucking goodbye in the morning when you leave!" you yelled, lips wobbling as you felt all the pent-up emotions starting to expand, rising and rising until it was pushing against the walls of your heart and threatening to explode.

"do you know how shitty it feels to have a fucking husband that feels like a long-distance boyfriend? you don't even say goodbye, you come back at 4am every day, and i haven't even seen you in a month-" you stop, a sob threatening to escape, so you compressed your trembling lips into a straight line keep the tears in, though it was a futile attempt.

"well you shouldn't have even fucking married me then! i don't need a fucking second mother bossing me around every single second of the day! this marriage isn't even fucking working!"

you shouldn't have married me.

the words rang in your head, eyes widening ever so slightly as your fragile heart finally shattered like a piece of glass, the final blow delivered by chan's words. you could only stand in place, frozen and rooted in place, tears finally cascading down your face.

"wait- no, shit-" chan could only stammer as he watched your face fall, instantly regretting what he had just carelessly uttered.

"fine." one word, yet said with so much finality. the one word that broke his heart.

hand shaking, you brought your right hand to your left, finally twisting the small band encrusted with sparkling diamonds off. your wedding ring.

how ironic, that the symbol of your love would become the symbol of your separation.

you slammed the ring down on the counter, grabbed your coat and keys, and walked out the front door. he knew your heart was gone, the frayed rope holding your relationship together by a thread finally snapping with the sharp knife of his words.

you were gone.

[todayontumblr]

Monday April 3.

A very merry Dannypocalypse 2023, to all who celebrate.

It's only the third biggest day in April—after the 1st and the 20th, of course—but it's here for us, and we are here for it. It is that day of days when we as a people gather for one of those few beloved things that unite us all; it is the very fabric of our community. It is a common cause, a binding thread, and the chance to gather together and celebrate what means the most. Neigh, some say these are troubled times in which conflict and division are rife. But today's commemoration is that most crucial reminder that there really is always more that unites us than divides. O come ye, dear dwellers of the dashboard, for this: #dannypocalypse, of #danny phantom fame. It is the reason for the season this April 3rd, 2023—unite with us in celebration for that young, eternally 2D boy, whomst possesses that most exceptional wave of shining black hair.

It is not often that one is bestowed the chance to communally change blog icons to that of Mr. Phantom looking frozen and alert as part of a day's celebration—so when April 3rd rumbles around each year, you know what to do. Join the #danny phantom fandom in marking this April 3rd, and this year's #dannypocalypse. Let's make it the best, the most apocalyptic, yet. 

[dawneternal]

And Yesterday You Were Here With Me

you were bigger than the whole sky / you were more than just a short time

✦ Azriel x Reader. Platonic Cassian x Reader, Nesta being a good friend.

✦ this one is a bit vulnerable to share. It's definitely something I wrote to process some of my own grief. (Hopefully it's not disrespectful to post this the day after mother's day) Take care of yourself and don't read if it will trigger you 💛

✦ Warnings: miscarriage, description of miscarriage/blood, grief and loss

✦ Read on AO3

You sit frozen, staring down at the crimson marbling the water in the toilet, struggling to breathe properly.

It was only last night that you had put the pieces together. Your late cycle, nausea, and fatigue. The strange gut feeling that something was off, but not in a bad way. In a new way - a different way. You immediately planned to try and see a healer here in the Day Court while on your mission with Cassian. That way you could return to Night and tell Azriel right away. You could barely sleep, excitement and nervousness filling every inch of your being as you tried to think up a clever or funny way to tell your mate.

And now all of those hopes and plans had crumbled, slipping through your fingers before you could catch them. Now, sitting on the toilet and feeling the cramps crashing through your body, you understood how quickly your heart had filled with love for this little possibility.

Before the full impact of it had even hit you, before you had even left the bathroom, you found yourself wishing you could skip ahead a month or a year. Because once the grief began, you knew it was going to be almost unbearable.

•✦•✦•✦•

You padded toward the door to the room next to yours, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you knocked. The door swung open wide and Cassian appeared. His smile quickly turned to confusion as he registered your bare legs, oversized t-shirt just barely covering your underwear. You had meant to put your shorts back on but they were forgotten on the bathroom floor in your flurry of emotion.

Cassian grasped your arm and pulled you into his room, looking both ways down the hall before he closed it behind him.

"What are you doing?" He asked in bewilderment, whirling around to look at you.

"We have to go right now. I need Azriel." You cursed your wavering voice. You were trying desperately to hold it together. Not to send anything down the bond and worry Azriel.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Cassian's face softened, confusion turning to concern as he inspected you for injury, eyes skimming over your trembling form, the hem of your shirt bunched in your fists.

"I-" You knew he was going to ask but the question broke you anyways. You slid to the floor, lip quivering. The thick carpet was rough against your bare legs.

A sob wracked your body as the grief began, dark churning waves swallowing you whole. There was no stopping it, no turning back. Almost immediately, you felt a questioning tug on the golden thread in your chest.

Cassian crouched beside you, elbows resting on his knees. He didn't speak for a moment, trying to decipher the scene, grimacing at the sorrowful cry you let out.

"Your cycle?" He asked, his voice gravelly. You could tell from the worry in his tone that he already knew the answer but you shook your head anyways. He could smell it. The blood and the loss.

"How long have you...." His voice drifts off, like the rest of the question would only break you further. It probably would.

"Last night," You manage between gasps, tears wetting your face and neck, leaving dark spots on your collar.

"Are you in any pain?" He asks, and you nod again, clutching your lower stomach in answer.

Cassian stands and disappears. You can hear sounds of rummaging, zipping and scraping as you bury your face in your hands. Azriel's questioning pulls are growing closer together and more frantic.

Cassian returns with his pack slung over his shoulder, a pair of his sweatpants in hand. He grabs your shoulders gently and pulls you up. Then he holds out the sweatpants for you to step into, letting you brace yourself on his shoulders. He scoops you up without a word and you let your head fall against his shoulder, tears never ceasing.

•✦•✦•✦•

The House of Wind comes into view and Cassian can make out Azriel, pacing back and forth on the balcony. As soon as you are close enough, his shadows dart toward you in the sky, circling to check for injuries. You're not sure what they'll tell him.

Cassian lands smoothly and you are instantly handed to Azriel, his familiar warmth pulling a fresh wave of tears down your face. His anxious face is looking down at you and can't stand the tenderness, letting your eyes close. He's whispering with Cassian and you can't hear what they're saying inside your bubble of grief. But you feel a wave of sorrow through the bond and you silently thank Cassian for saying the words you couldn't conjure.

Azriel is taking you inside, holding you tightly against him, and you can hear the sound of beating wings as Cassian takes off again.

You hear the thud of Az's boots on the floor, then you're shifting in his arms as he sits cross legged on the couch and pulls you into his lap. You pull your knees to your chest and he wraps his arms around you.

"I'm sorry," you croak, voice hoarse from crying.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," His deep voice rumbles in his chest and the vibrations are comforting. His fingers are running through your hair, soft kisses pressed to your forehead. His other hand rubs your back in soothing circles.

Cassian returns soon with Madja, carrying her bag of supplies. You are looking deliberately anywhere but at their faces, not able to bear any sadness or compassion you might find. Such shame has enveloped you, but you're not even sure what for. You don't have the words for it.

She lets you stay in Azriel's arms as she examines you. Her hands glow with a golden aura as she moves them up and down, then centers them over your lower abdomen. You feel a strange tingling as her magic pulses through you, returning back to her with information about your condition. The room is silent as she works, watching and waiting.

When Madja is done, she runs a tender hand across your forehead, brushing your hair back from your face.

"You were right, dear," She says, her voice is kind but with no pity like you feared, "A miscarriage. An early one, likely about six to eight weeks. They're sadly very common in early pregnancy."

Azriel's hands tighten around you, your gaze too focused on the healer to see the tremble of his bottom lip. But Cassian sees it, and it splits his heart in two. Madja places a few vials on the coffee table and continues,

"Take one of these a day and they'll help with the pain and ward off infection. You'll want to keep in mind that your emotions may be a little high as your hormones even back out. And plan for your next cycle to be extra heavy. I'd like to see you around that time to make sure all is well."

You nod, biting your bottom lip to keep the crying from starting again. You want to ask her about the overwhelming sorrow you feel, if that's normal or not. But she presses a hand to your cheek and gives you a sad smile and you understand that she knows what you're feeling.

"I'm sorry for your loss, my dear," she says, then turns to Azriel and presses her hand to his face in turn, "I know that you don't need my warning, because you're a good man and you'll support her. But don't for a moment let her believe that this was her fault. There was nothing anyone could have done, and now she needs to rest and heal. And you take care of yourself, as well."

You look up at Azriel's face and watch him give a grave nod. He looks down at you, a few tears falling down his face, and you wipe them away as your own begin again.

•✦•✦•✦•

The next few days are spent in your shared room, curled up in the bed. Mourning, crying, sometimes smiling and laughing over daydreams of what could have been. Your beautiful possibility.

Your fear of Azriel's reaction entirely melts away. He grieves with you, tenderly reassures you that you've done nothing wrong. That when the time comes again you'll make a wonderful mother and he'll welcome the new life with you. He begins the habit of calling your lost one your little star. It somehow soothes and sharpens the pain at the same time.

You did not know it was possible to miss something you'd only had for such a short time. To feel such an unbearable amount of love for something you had not even held in your arms. And you knew the love would not go away even though your little star was no longer with you. All of that love would stay in your heart until your last day on earth, and beyond that it would burn in the sky as a glittering star when you were finally reunited with your baby. Someday, you would grow around the grief and your body would learn to hold it with less pain, but until then your very bones would ache with the loss.

•✦•✦•✦•

When you're ready, a handful of your friends gather with you to say goodbye. Feyre, Cassian, and Nesta follow you to the Sidra under the full moon. They were the only ones who knew, yet. In time you'd tell all of them, but it was all too fragile still. You couldn't even think the words without a lump forming in your throat. Rhys knew and had sent his condolences, and you suspected his absence was out of respect to your privacy.

Nesta and Feyre had helped you begin to return to normal, coming over in the morning to braid your hair and make sure you had breakfast. Even though Azriel had never left your side. Slowly, the shock faded away into the dull ache of mourning, the numbness in your body giving way to the aftermath of its loss.

Today, Nesta held your coat out for you and tucked your scarf around your neck. When you slip your hands into your pockets, you find something waiting for you. You pull it out, holding it flat in your palm to examine.

A bracelet. Strands of light pink, light blue, and gold woven together. A tiny golden star charm dangled from it. You look at Nesta with a wobbly chin, eyes glistening, and she smiles, giving your arm a squeeze.

Now, you kneel at the edge of the Sidra, near the mouth of the river pouring into the sea. The moonlight dances on the gently flowing water, stars glimmering as far as the eye could see.

You murmur your prayer and place your lantern in the water, watching the current carry it away to the sea. Azriel sits beside you and pulls you tight against his side, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. His tears are cold against your skin. You watch the little light drift away toward the horizon, staying until the cold of the ground seeps through your shoes and the lantern has long since disappeared.

Mother hold you, little star. May she greet you with all the love and tenderness I cannot give you, and may she keep you close until I leave this earth and come to meet you. As long as I am breathing, you will not leave my heart for a moment.

[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone (pt 3)

Synopsis: After Tommy fixes you up, you can't help but let old feelings get in the way. Then, the unexpected happens.

word count 2.8k

information/warnings: cursing, talk of death, not too much, the LIGHTEST hint of smut activity. this chapter is very strange to me, i wrote 3 different versions of it, and this is the one that i felt would carry the story further. not proofread!!

taglist: @budugu, @ajmiila02, @filmtv2022, @cyphah, @ce1iat, @thenattitude

thank you all so so much for reading, i hope you enjoy this chapter!! please leave a comment if you had questions, critiques, anything!

As you sat in the back office of the Garrison, waiting for Thomas, you heard the wails of a man coming from the bar. You could hear every single time a punch connected here, a kick landed there, and the screams that punctuated each. If you strained your ears hard enough, you could hear small grunts and pants of air coming from another man, who you assumed to be Tommy. The beating continued for another few moments, and all you could do was listen. The cries and moans of pain eventually stopped, followed by a distinct voice. 

“Get ‘em out of my fuckin’ pub. I’ve got to go see about my girl.” 

It was Tommy, and he called you ‘his girl’ in front of everyone. 

Tommy entered the office, wiping his hands with a bar rag. You noticed the slight red tinge on the cloth, but decided to let him handle it, he was Tommy Shelby after all, surely he’d had worse than a couple of bruised knuckles. You watched him, as he cleaned his hands and then looked at you. Without speaking, he moved to his desk and opened one of the lower drawers. He pulled out a small white box, marked on the top by a small red cross. 

“C’mere, Love. Let me see that cut.” He said, motioning for you to sit on his desk while he sat in his chair. 

You walked towards him, wringing your hands together out of nervousness. Not only were you nervous because you were about to have his undivided attention, but him calling you ‘his girl’ still rang loud in your mind. You approached his desk, standing in front of where he was seated in his chair. He stood, hooking his hands under your arms, and lifted you so that your ass was directly on top of his desk; you were fairly certain you were sitting on some important legal documents. He softly grabbed your chin, and tilted your head to the side, allowing for him to get a clear view of your face. He gave a little ‘hmph’ and opened the first aid box. He pulled out a spray, an ointment, and a bandage. You realized how lucky you were to not need stitches when you saw the plain needle and thread also in the box. 

“This is going to sting Love, so just sit still for me, okay?” He spoke, turning your head so that you had to look him in the eye. 

“Okay, Tommy.” You nodded. 

He began with the spray, which stung like hell, but you were tough and you wanted to be good for him so you sat still as frozen concrete. The small smile that appeared on his face at your little grimace didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Good girl. The next thing shouldn’t sting, but still, don’t move.” He said, the deep baritone of his voice making your ears heat up. 

While Tommy was applying the ointment and bandage to your forehead, the two of you began talking. He told you a little bit about the war, as you were young and left almost as soon as he got back. He still felt guilty speaking about it to you now, in his mind you were innocent, despite how you just beat a grown man's ass into the dirt a few moments prior. He thought that you should never have to know about war, about mass casualty. He told you about the tunnels he helped dig and operate, and every once in a while when he would get choked up, you would rub your hand along his arm that was still doctoring your face. One particular moment made you realize just what he had been through. 

“We were down there, it was dark and it stunk. My God, Y/N, it stunk. People died down there and we had no way to get them out, no way to even try and get them help. Towards the end, one of my comrades, one of the few I was actually friendly with, he got hit. We never even saw it coming. He got left down there, and sometimes, I still see him…” Tommy trailed off. 

You watched him with sympathy as a single tear rolled out of his eye. Tommy had seen you cry plenty, but this was the first time you had ever even seen his eyes water. 

“Shh, it’s okay, Tom. Why don’t I tell you more about my time up North? Did you know thats where I went? Up North?” You said softly, trying to get him to come out of his head and back into the present with you. 

“I knew you went North, Y/N. I called around about you until I found someone who knew where you were. I just wanted to know you were safe.” He said. 

Tommy had looked for you? Not only looked, but he knew where you were this entire time? So much for ever truly getting away from the Shelby’s, you laughed at yourself. 

“Well then how come I never heard from you? If you knew where I was, why didn’t you ever stop in? Or were you watching me so that you’d be able to stop me from ever coming back?” You scoffed, now leaning back on your hands since he was done with your cut. 

“Of course I wanted you to come home, Y/N. I didn’t reach out because I thought you ran away from me. I didn’t want to scare you off the continent, so I settled for just knowing you were safe.” He replied, packing up his first aid box. 

You studied his expression, and savored his words in your mind. You had been holding feelings for Tommy since you were 16. You were both grown now, and although you couldn’t be certain, the things he was saying sounded an awful lot like something you’d say to someone you cared for. You decided to bite the bullet, and expose your younger self. 

“Look Thomas, we’re both grown, professional, adults right?” You said, cocking your head to the side. 

“...Right?” He answered, giving you a puzzled look. 

“Well then, I’m just going to out myself, and if you don’t like what I have to say then we’ll pretend I didn’t say it,” you paused, just trying to see if he would interrupt, he didn’t. “I have looked at you in so many ways Tommy. I’ve seen you be a brother, a friend, an enemy, but all you ever were to me, since I was sixteen years old, was Tommy. My Tommy. I have pined after you and wanted you since I was sixteen, and you never gave me the time of day. I don’t know what you mean by all of what you’ve said, especially earlier when you were poking fun at me over dinner, but I can see that you care for me Tommy. I’m not sure how thick you think these walls are, but I heard you call me ‘your girl’ earlier. You have opened up to me without reserve like I have never seen you do before Thomas. Never. I’m saying all this to say a few things. One, I didn’t say goodbye to you because I couldn’t face you. I knew that if I had to look at you, and have one last conversation, that I would hold onto that for the rest of my life, and those words would be the only ones of yours that I could ever hear in my head. Two, I want you to understand, and make no mistake, that I like you Thomas. Not just in a ‘well he’s fine, I like him way’, but in a way that makes my ears hot, that makes me want to giggle like a child and swing my arms around. I like you in a way that is bordering on love, Tommy. And three, I need to know if you feel the same way. I need to know. Even if you don’t, even if you have never looked at me like that and you never will, and all I will ever be to you is an annoying family friend, I need to know.”

You took a deep breath, unsure of what was going to come next. You felt a single tear roll down your cheek, but not from sadness, from relief. You had been holding onto these feelings for years, you never shared them with anyone, their weight was your own. You watched his face as he processed all of this. Practically watched the wheels turn in his brain. You had watched him so much, that you had his beautiful face committed to memory, forevermore trapped in your brain. This version of Tommy, the version where he hadn’t yet opened his mouth to tell you that he doesn’t like you, that he doesn’t see you like that, was perfect. He was beautiful, all soft pink lips and tortured blue eyes. You even thought the dark colors under his eyes from being sleep deprived were pretty. You took one last photo of him in your mind, before he opened his mouth. He stood from his chair, putting him above your eye level. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it shut again. He did this a few times, each time the look in his eye changing with the opening and closing of his mouth. Finally, he spoke. 

“Y/N, I am rarely left speechless, but I think you’ve caught me here, Love.” He said softly, bringing his hand up to cradle your jaw. 

He leaned his head in towards you, slower than you ever thought it possible for a human to move. Once you realized what was happening, a million thoughts ran through your head. Were you really about to kiss Thomas Shelby? Was he really about to kiss you? Here? In his office? You never imagined this would be his response to your love-fueled ramblings, but this was the best outcome you ever could’ve hoped for. You had fallen for this man many years ago, but those feelings weren’t like regular school-yard crushes. They never went away, never dwindled, never stopped or changed in any negative value. You had filled your own head with imagined words he’d said to you, convincing yourself that if he ever noticed you, just once if he could see you for the woman you truly are, that he would love you, or like you at least. But now, after you had confessed and outed and embarrassed yourself in his office, now is when he chooses to notice you? Here? While your face is bandaged up from a bar brawl that you got into? You weren’t the typical woman that Tommy Shelby went for, not now. He would go for women who were outwardly dainty, yet fierce inside. Women who carried small pocket knives in their dress pockets, and would brandish them as a ‘party trick’. Tommy Shelby did not go for women who held their own, physically. He did not go for women who stole knives off of fighting opponents, who held their composure getting fixed up in a dark back office, women who went away for five years and turned up without so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’. 

Your inner monologue quickly settled, as you realized that you had created all of those thoughts within a few milliseconds, as here stood Thomas before you, still leaning in to press his lips to yours. You waited, breath hitched, eyes slowly closing, lips slowly parting, your hand coming to rest on his waist, just waiting for the fiery moment when his lips touched yours. 

“Aye!” A crash came through the doorway. 

Tommy jerked back, taking his hand and all your thoughts with him. You stared at him with an open mouth, chest moving wildly up and down, and then turned to the man who ruined your fucking moment. Arthur Shelby. 

“What in the hell do ya’ two think your doin’? ‘Specially you, Y/N. Why the fuck are ya startin’ fights in my pub?” Arthur asked, his hands resting on his hips. 

“I didn’t start shit, Arthur. Maybe make sure you don’t let fuckin’ creeps in the door and I wouldn’t have to teach these men a thing or two!” You shouted, mad at Arthur for many reasons. 

One, how dare he come in here and start talking at you, not even asking if you’re okay? Two, He just ruined the best fucking moment you’d had in five long, miserable, dry years. 

“Oi, Arthur, you could at least ask her if she's okay,” Tommy remarked, turning his attention towards you again. 

You stared at the two brothers, feeling the slightest bit unhinged. You had yelled at Arthur when he was acting like a reasonable buisness man, of course he’d want to know why there had been a knife fight in his pub. However, would it have fuckin’ killed him to wait five more seconds before he came barging in? 

“Arthur, I’ll go over all the details tomorrow,” Tommy spoke again, “For now, lets get Y/N back to Watery Lane. I’m sure news has spread and Ada and Pol will skin me if I don’t let them see her in one piece before I take her home.” 

The three of you headed outside, loading up into the Shelby car. You sat in the back, with Tommy driving and Arthur in the passenger seat. There was no conversation made on the way back to the Shelby home, only silence. You watched as buildings passed out of the window, wondering what was going to come of you and Tommy now? There had been such a buildup, and obviously he felt some kind of way about you, right? 

Once the three of you made it to Watery Lane, it was absolutely pouring outside. A thunderstorm had come from seemingly nowhere, lighting the sky up in streaks of white-purple light every few seconds. The rain fell heavily against the roof and windows of the car, and Tommy offered you his jacket as a cover for your head. You accepted his offering, and the lot of you scurried as fast as you could into the foyer of the home. 

“Y/N, I don’t think I’ll be able to take you home tonight, Love. Are you comfortable staying here?” Tommy asked, now that Arthur had wandered off deeper into the house. 

“Of course, Tommy. It won’t be the first time I’ve slept here. But is there room for me?” You questioned, realizing that either everyone was home (for once), meaning all rooms were occupied. 

“Don’t worry about that, we’ll find you a good place to sleep.” He said, a sly smile coming across his face. 

After explaining the whole situation to Polly and Ada, you were beyond tired. It was well past midnight at this point, and you could barely hold your eyes open. Tommy seemed to take notice, and bid the two other women goodnight for the both of you. He took your hand and lead you up the stairs to his room. 

“You can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in, okay, Love? I’m going to go to the bathroom to change, just open the door when it’s safe for me to come back in.” He said, handing you a folded up shirt and pair of boxers. 

You quickly stripped off the wet clothes, hanging them to dry in his closet. You ran your fingers through your damp hair, trying your best to smooth it out from the rough night you’d had. You cracked open the door of Tommy’s room, and saw him standing in the hallway, gazing at the door. Once he snapped out of his trance, he came into his room and shut his door behind him. 

“You look good in my clothes, Y/N.” He whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. 

You felt your cheeks blush at his comment. You saw him walk behind you, and then heard the creaking of bed springs. 

“Where am I going to sleep, Thomas?” You asked, not understanding why he was getting into bed when the situation hadn’t been resolved. 

“Right ‘ere, Love,” he patted the other side of his bed, “I don’t bite, I promise.” He smiled. 

You gave him a hesitant look before climbing into his bed, suddenly feeling relaxed by his smell. His presence was all around you. You could smell him on the sheets, you could hear his breathing behind you as you lay on your side, and then, you could feel his arm around your waist as he pulled your back flush to his warm, bare chest. 

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well, Love.” Tommy whispered, still holding his grip on you. 

“Goodnight, Tommy.” 

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 [𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail Pairings: Jing Yuan x Fem!reader x Blade Warnings: NSFW, !dark! content, i guess, yandere, non-con, threesome, oral sex, anal sex, creampie, squirt, a little rough treatment from Blade.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq 

Yeah, i can't stop writing threesome wth my favorite men. But these two look especially good together…

You'd rather die than be trapped between two incarnations of the devil himself.

If it once seemed to you that Jing Yuan is soft enough against the background of a ruthless and cruel Blade, then this is not so at all. Right now he doesn't pay attention to your words of protest, or the tears running down your cheeks, or the way your legs are desperately trying to push his face away from your crotch, while Blade calmly fixes your wrists at the head of the bed. The general is gentle only in showering you with sickly sweet speeches and praises, from which your stomach twists in vomiting. The smile, forever frozen on his face, from the outside may seem soft and saturated with love when his gaze meets yours, but how can «love» and Jing Yuan get along in the same sentence when his tongue collects the moisture of your treacherous excitement, completely not caring about how your body trembles with fear and the look of fear rushes from the greedy eyes of the General to the quietly chuckling Blade, unbuttoning his fly.

— Mmm, you are amazing, dear, — Jing Yuan, after what seemed like an eternity, finally breaks away from your wet folds, contentedly licking his lips shiny from your salty slime. — Blade, come here.

— Tsk, — you almost exhale with relief when the gloomy tall figure of Blade moves away from you, moving to the edge of the bed, where the smug General is sitting. — What do you…?!

Both yours and Blade's eyes seem to expand in sync with shock when Jing Yuan bites into his lips in a kiss. You can almost feel his tongue sliding into Blade's mouth, like he's doing it to you. Blade's face expresses silent displeasure, but he doesn't try to pull away. It makes you sick to realize that the tongues of these men now share your taste. How disgusting they are. You take advantage of the moment and check the strength of the ropes that bind your hands. As expected, Blade is too good at everything that concerns your torment, so the rope painfully cuts into the skin of your wrists, preventing you from even pulling tight threads, no matter how you try to do it.

— Bastard, what are you doing? — Blade finally pushes General away, wiping his lips irritably with the back of his hand.

— I share with you the taste of our princess, — you again feel the weight of Jing Yuan's gaze from under half-closed eyelids, when he looks at the curves of your naked body without hesitation. Amber eyes rest on your trembling thighs, which are desperately trying to stay closed in a futile attempt to prevent any of them from thrusting a dick into you. But you know perfectly well that it's useless.

— You're too gentle with her, Jing Yuan.

You try to shrink, hide in a corner, do anything to avoid Blade's touch when his hands reach for your closed thighs, but strong long fingers inevitably press into your soft flesh, spreading your legs wide apart and opening up a view of your crotch for him. You whine, trying not to die right there from shame. Blade has always been intimidating. His habit of scrutinizing the most intimate parts of your body has always made you burn with embarrassment and disgust. You always knew that after that his heavy cock would painfully stretch your insides, but you just wanted to get it over with faster and hide from the eyes of two bastards using your body as a toy to satisfy their perverted needs.

They've never used you together before. It always had to be either Jing Yuan or Blade, and you honestly can't tell which one was less disgusting. But now that the sickening pretense and hypocrisy have merged into a hellish mixture with cruelty and cold-bloodedness, you really began to think that it would have been better for them to finish you off the day they both laid eyes on you. How much you must have angered the whole universe if it has prepared such a test for you?

— You're being too rude, Blade. I like to stretch out the pleasure, while you just use it as a thing. It's wrong, she should enjoy us too, — Jing Yuan's lips are still stretched in the tenderest smile as he gets up from his place on the bed, slowly walking to the head of the bed and stretching out his hands to the rope. — Come on, honey, don't cry. I think I should make you comfortable, huh? You won't be able to accept both of us in this position.

— Tsk, bastard, are you serious? I wasn't going to share her with you at all, — Blade exhales irritably, but pulls away from your hips, allowing Jing Yuan to arrange your bound hands on his shoulders as he embraces you, arranging you astride his body while he lays down on the bed.

You can feel his hard cock pressing against your clitoris, sending a sickeningly pleasant shiver through your body. Bitter tears are dripping from your eyes again from the realization of how humiliating it is to feel like such a helpless doll in their hands, especially when the warm slime of betrayal of your body flows down your thighs, surrendered under the pressure of primal desire, which at some point began to rage in your body along with fear of these two every time, when they visit the room allocated for you with one single purpose.

Jing Yuan purrs velvety into the curve of your neck while his heavy palms forcefully press on your hips, forcing you to descend on his dick, the oozing head of which has already aligned with your entrance. You whine and try to pull away from the touch of his lips to the skin of your throat, turning your head to the side. Stretching is so painful, but merges with a pleasant feeling of pleasure because of how slowly his big cock pushes deep into your vagina. Maybe it's because you're trying your best to prevent his big palms from pressing, or maybe it's because the General has always been famous for his addiction to harassing you to madness, it seemed to last forever, nauseating caresses and irritatingly slow movements, which sometimes stopped altogether, forcing you stay impaled on his dick for who knows how long until he gets bored of it.

When the head of Jing Yuan's cock rested against the cervix with a dull pain, making you shudder, completely lowered onto his hips, you almost forgot that there was another person in the room, drilling your figure with a burning predatory gaze, waiting for the moment when he could bloodthirstingly bite into the flesh of his victim. A short cry escaped from your throat when you felt the rough compression of your buttocks by Blade's cold hands. A sharp shiver shot through my spine as a terrifying thought popped into my head about exactly what Jing Yuan meant when he said that you should accept them both.

— N-no! No, please! — you desperately shifted on Jing Yuan's lap in a sudden panic attack when you realized what the man behind you was going to do. Your futile attempts to escape were instantly stopped by the painful pulling of your hair, forcing you to throw your head back.

— Shut up, — Blade growls, leaning over your ear. You freeze when your eardrums are struck by his terrifyingly low, husky voice. It always sounds like the call of your imminent doom, to which your imprisonment here must inevitably lead. You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to finally be free of this torment, but you knew they'd never let you die so easily.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, simply enjoys the view of your throat that has opened up in front of him, the way your muscles tighten when you swallow convulsively, opening your lips and exhaling air intermittently from your painfully constricted lungs. You are so seductive in your defenselessness and weakness. General's lips find their place on your neck again when he lifts up, pressing into your vulnerable throat exposed in front of him, lifting your hips on his cock.

You whimper when you feel another hard organ pressing against your ass, but these pathetic sounds instantly break into a scream when Blade's dick ruthlessly, without any preparation, penetrates inside. He has always been so cruel and seems to be indifferent in his ugly love for you, allowing himself to use you solely for his own pleasure, not caring that he causes you more and more pain over and over again.

The feeling of two members settling into your insides is simply unbearable. You stagger on the verge of insanity when they both start moving in turn, not leaving you for a second free from the weight of their hard organs tearing you apart from the fusion of the feeling of hellish pain caused by Blade and the pleasure that Jing Yuan gives you, steadily pushing up towards your hips, while one of the his palms are persistently caressing your clitoris. Blade, on the other hand, seems to be less ruthless than usual, filling you deeply and roughly, but as if enjoying the feeling of the tightness of your walls, tightly contracting in painful spasms around his impressive girth.

One of Blade's palms rests on your ass, pressing even harder than Jing Yuan's hand, setting a faster pace to your movements.

— How impatient you are, Blade, — Jing Yuan coos into the warm skin of your neck, moving the palm resting on your thigh to Blade's fingers pressing into your elastic flesh.

— Idiot, stop groping me, — Blade growls again behind your back, pressing even harder on your delicate skin, it seems, instantly leaving bruises on it when you feel how their movements become more careless and energetic.

— But I love both of you!

You feel sick every time you hear any words of love from them. These people are not destined to ever understand true love. What they call love is nothing more than the ugly obsession of two sadists who torture you into unconsciousness every time one of them appears at the door of your room.

Your sobs gradually turn into stifled moans. No matter how much you want to feel disgust, it is drowned out by the treacherous pleasure spreading in the bottom of your stomach. Blade pulls your hair even tighter, forcing you to put your head on his shoulder while his hips meet your ass with loud pops. You can feel the heat coming from his sculpted abs and muscular chest, which meet your back whenever his cock returns to your insides. Hoarse moans and growls come out of his throat, stirring your eardrums.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, behaves quite quietly, as if just enjoying the sounds of your and Blade's pleasure, trying to keep up with the pace set by the Stellaron Hunter. His lips roam over your skin, making their way from the bruises to your chest, where he stops to painfully squeeze one of your nipples between his teeth.

All this is so disgusting and just drives you crazy from the feelings of shame, self-loathing and fear that are tearing your heart out because your body really enjoys the violence that is being done to it. Their members synchronize at some point, making you scream from the way they seem to stimulate all the sensitive places in your insides when they meet each other through the wall separating them from each other. Your nails desperately dig into your own palms, tearing the skin to blood, but you are no longer able to feel this burning pain when your body is tormented by so many sensations that you are not able to cope with. The dimness of the room gradually swirls and fades before your eyes, and the sounds that uncontrollably fly out of your mouth subside when you feel a tight bubble exploding in the bottom of your stomach, scattering into tiny fragments that travel through every nerve in your body. You give up, you go limp, squeezed between two ruthless men who do not pay any attention to how consciousness leaves you, too keen on how your walls are clamped in a tight vice by their members when an orgasm crushes you. Your warm moisture streams onto Jing Yuan's embossed abs and chest, causing his body to shake in a guttural chuckle. Usually he needs more time or he just likes to stretch out the pleasure, but now he feels like his culmination is steadily approaching the bottom of his stomach, and he is unable, and has no desire to hinder it.

Blade feels the same way, spellbound, watching from under heavy eyelids for your extinct face resting on his shoulder. The sight of your impotence makes his massive cock throb and swell in your tight insides until, almost in unison, moans break from the lips of both men, marking the onset of their culmination. Your still-spasming walls are filled with portions of hot sperm, while Blade lowers his head on your shoulder, and Jing Yuan buries his forehead in your chest, catching his breath after a surprisingly intense orgasm.

The men remain motionless for a while, until Blade finally pulls his hand away from his thigh, irritably freeing himself from under the weight of Jing Yuan's palm and leaving your insides, allowing the sperm to vulgarly flow from your ass down the General's cock and his thighs still resting in your vagina. Jing Yuan picks up your body, gently emerging from under your bound hands and also slipping out of you, arranging your limp figure on the bed. The golden irises involuntarily glance over your vulnerable fragile body, stopping at your thighs, between which the pleasure fluids of all three of you have mixed.

— How wonderful. She's really made for both of us.

The General chastely removes the disheveled hair from your sweaty forehead, admiring your relaxed sleeping face. Blade is silent, taking one last look at you before grabbing his scattered belongings from the floor and leaving the room.

To your great regret, it seems that they both came to the same conclusion, although only Jing Yuan dared to voice it out loud, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek before untying the rope on your wrists and following Blade into the bathroom.

[bby-deerling]

two ghosts (sanji x reader nsfw)

sanji almost lets you slip between his fingers...

18+, mdni, nsfw wc: 1.9k masterlist

cw: afab!fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, almost breaking up, make up sex, emotional roller coaster, intimate and needy sex

tagging: @sanjisjuul @pileofmush @kibblz-n-bitz (thanks for sitting in call with me while i wrote this!)

The silence that hung in the sticky, evening air was palpable; it was heavy, hot, and suffocating.  Sanji wonders if you can feel the tension, the push and pull of the tether that binds you with every passing breath.  The orange sunset casts into the kitchen, illuminating the frosting smeared across your cheek as you pipe, deep in focus.  He’d taught you everything you needed to know about baking, icing, and proper presentation ages ago; quiet evenings like this used to be highlighted by your laughter, quick banter, and loving touches.  Now, despite the warmth of the light passing through the window, it was cold, empty, and sterile.

Things were different before, when everything was green and easy, and each day was filled with the thrill of limerence and the novelty of learning each other.  And then, suddenly, two years had passed, and the threads tying the two of you together became frayed, weathered and torn.  Once, the icing smeared across your cheek would have been teasingly lapped up by his tongue—now, it stays in place until your thumb absentmindedly swipes away the buttercream, a distant expression in your eyes.

Maybe if he was more pragmatic like Zoro, he would have thought things through before acting on his feelings.  Perhaps he would have waited before confessing him feelings until he was certain this would last, but he wasn’t—Sanji fell hard, loved hard, and the feeling of the fondness he has for you slipping through his fingers was hard for him.  It’s so difficult for him to stare at you from across the kitchen as you stare him down, your gaze hollow and hurt.

“Sanji, what’s wrong?” you ask, voice shaky and quivering; his heart drops when he realizes you’ve likely been working up the courage to voice your concerns to him for some time.  He had spent many sleepless nights agonizing over the way you seemingly hadn’t noticed his shift in behavior—the fact that you not only had, but were too afraid to confront him about it made the pain sting more.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, dear.” he lies.  The hoarseness in his voice gives him away, and your wide doe eyes are wounded from his audacity to swallow down his problems and push you away.

Your nails dig into your forearm, coating them in powdered sugar and nearly drawing blood.  “Please stop lying to me.  I can take it.” you whisper, defeated.  The tears pricking at the corners of your eyes are silent, but Sanji swears he can hear the wail of your cries echoing in the air.

Meeting your stare is too difficult, so he opts to stare at the floor as he chooses his next words with caution and care.  “Things aren’t like they used to be, angel.  Surely you’ve noticed it too.” he says, voice raspy and threatening to break.

Now you’re the one who cannot bear to meet his eyes, and you swallow hard as you try to regain control over your breathing—it’s difficult when Sanji is standing across the kitchen from you, turning the tension-heavy conversation into a western standoff.  “What did I do wrong, Sanji?  How did I drive you away?” you ask, holding back sobs as your body begins to shake.

“Nothing, dear.  Nothing at all.  We’re simply changed, and—” he starts, with more conviction that he imagined himself having, until you interrupt him.

“Are you giving up, Sanji?” you choke out.  It’s angry, and it’s frustrated, and it’s a plea for him to reconsider without resorting to dropping to your knees and begging—it’s a desperate attempt to stop him from finishing his sentence and going too far by speaking it into existence.

Sanji is frozen in place, his sky-blue eyes swirling as his resolve wavers.  Seeing the way he’s turning you into a broken mess stalls the motion in his chest and makes him look at you—truly look at you for the first time today.  Though your eyes are puffy and watery, your cheeks are rosy, and all the beautiful qualities of both your countenance and your aura radiate from you; all of a sudden it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“No, love.” he whispers, voice as soft and light as a feather.  “I want to fix things, if you’ll have me.”

The pause before you speak is physically painful for Sanji to bear, though he knows he deserves it after twisting a knife through your chest only to pull it out and bandage you up right as you’re on the brink of death.

“Of course I’ll have you, Sanji.  I need you.” you reply, fatigued and exhausted from the push and pull.  He can’t hold back from comforting you any longer, and strides towards you; as he reaches you, he clasps his clammy, heated hands around yours, and presses frantic, heated kisses onto your forehead.

“I’m sorry, angel… I’m so sorry…” he whispers, silently vowing to change, to amend all the behaviors that had led him to this point.  He was honest when he said you had done nothing to push him away; he was simply unappreciative of everything in front of him, everything that had drawn you to him in an unrelenting frenzy when he first laid eyes on you.  He had taken you for granted, and was willing to spend the rest of his life atoning for it as long as he wouldn’t have to be deprived from the warmth of your gaze for the rest of his days.

You don’t tell him it’s okay, or I forgive you—it’s not, and you don’t—but you love him desperately and crave him more than your lungs need air; shaky fingers find the sides of his face, and gentle, soft thumbs brush away his tears as your lips press into his.  The kiss is sloppy, and passionate, and full of tongues as you frantically devour one another—as if this kiss would be the last, though you both vowed it wouldn’t be.

“I love you Sanji, please don’t let me go.” you plead as you break away, burying your face into his chest.  His cotton dress shirt becomes soaked with the dampness of your tears, and he holds you so close that three out of place vertebrae in your spine click back into place with a loud pop.

“Never.  I’ll never leave you, angel.” he whispers, moving his hand upward, tracing along your upper arms towards your jawline.  Though he intends to be soft with you, he can’t help the way he pins your back against the counter with both power and intent to prove his devotion—to physically bind himself to you and seal his promise to stay, to be better.  His hands are in your hair, his tongue is deep in your mouth, and his knee is slotted between your legs; you let out a weak whimper against his lips as your hips grind on his thigh for more friction, and the sound makes him dizzy, crazed, and hungry.

Sanji knows he should drop to his knees and pray; he should be worshipping at the altar of the goddess he’d blasphemed, but he lets a rare fit of selfishness consume him.  As he feels your arousal soak both your panties and the leg of his trousers, Sanji lets out a groan against your lips and feels the overwhelming urge to bury himself in the ecstasy of your walls.

“Up on the counter, dear.” he murmurs lowly, rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs into your hips.  Once you comply, he tilts your head to the side and smothers the column of your neck in heated love bites, licking over each indent of his teeth in your skin with his slick tongue.  His hand starts stroking your sensitive clit through your panties, but in an uncommon stroke of impatience, he slides them to the side and sinks two fingers into you; the gasp you let out is sharp, needy, and full of wanting as he scissors his fingers inside of you, spreading you wide open for him.

He pulls his digits from you and licks them clean, smirking at the way the sight makes you let out a breathy sigh.  Sanji swiftly removes his belt as you watch him spring his cock free; your body is steeped in anticipation as he gingerly pulls you in for a kiss with one hand, and slides his cock along your weeping slit with another.  It’s not long before his tip is just as soaked as you are, and his length slips into you with one quick motion.  Sensual moans fall from both your mouths, only to be muffled by your messy, sloppy liplock as he snaps his hips against yours.

He's frenzied, and insatiable, setting a harsher pace than you’re used to as he ruts into you.  Though it was his own folly, his own foolish behavior that almost led him to letting you go, he had almost lost you all the same, and felt a need to claim you, feel you, and knead the soft, plush skin of your thigh while he presses heated circles into your clit.  The tip of his head brushes against your sweet spot and causes your head to tip back in ecstasy; the line of drool that keeps your mouths connected spurs him to give you more, give you all of him, and give you everything.

You’re hot and twitching in his grasp, nearly undone as he rocks your hips in rhythm with his.  Pants and whines and blabbers of nonsense escape your lips as you get so close, but you needed help rising over the crest; Sanji’s deft fingers have memorized each favored and pleasurable motion and ministration better than your own could ever dream of doing, and he groans with satisfaction as a bit more pressure on your clit gets you to fall apart around him.

“Let go for me, angel… Fuck, you’re doing so well.” he praises as you let out a needy cry, your walls fluttering around him.  Your whimpers are heady as heat pools in your face, and the shockwaves racing throughout your body are tamped by the way his arm snakes around you, pulling you close as he buries his nose in your hair.  The way you clench around him so tightly makes him not far behind, seeing black as he rocks himself into your spent body with white hot need.

The moments after your climaxes subside are stretched for an eternity, as both of you mumble a barely audible I love you into each other’s skin.  His pulse felt reanimated under your touch, as if for the past few weeks he had been someone else, not quite living and not quite dead; his limbs entangle with yours, and his head buries into your shoulder, coating it with the remnants of his damp, salty tears.  Unable to hold back sobs of your own, your body shakes and heaves as droplets splatter against his collarbone.  Promises and apologies flow like like wine from swollen and blubbering lips, and when Sanji cups the side of your face, gingerly tilting your head up to look at him, he sees a light hidden behind the raw, aching pain in your eyes—a sign of life.

He had found your heartbeat, pounding under his touch, and he promises himself to never lose sight of it again.

[leviathanspain]

Any Carmy x Reader where the reader is struggling emotionally but hides it well from Carmy (due to trying to open the new restaurant) until they slip up? Can be stress from work or even their own family drama they’ve kept from him. Thank you!

the perfect storm

carmy berzatto x reader

synopsis: you can’t bottle it all up forever, can you?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your chest felt tight. you couldn’t take a deep breath no matter how hard you tried, and you were unconsciously pulling at the collar of your shirt, clearing your throat in hopes to find the ability to breathe. your eyes felt tight in their sockets, and your palms were sweaty. but you continued to slave away with prep, cutting vegetables to prepare for the big opening night.

you were trying hard to focus on your work, but your heart was practically pounding in your chest, and you were sweating more profusely. you dropped the knife suddenly, and tried to take a deep breath.

you clawed at your collar and began to unknot your apron. you needed to get out of here, and the knot wasn’t coming undone-

“hey, hey-“ the permanently impatient tone of voice that carmy had echoed into your ears. you blinked, and you felt his hands grab onto yours, holding them in place, “what’s wrong, chef?” he looked at you, and you felt him trying to hold your gaze but you were stuck looking ahead, still breathing heavy.

you realized just how silent the rest of the kitchen got and you huffed, pulling away from carmy, you ran out the back door, feet squeaking as they ran over the wet floor.

your hands slammed hard onto the wood of the back door, and you panted hard as you finally inhaled the fresh, crisp, chicago air. you brushed your stray hair from your face with a hand and tried to hold onto the relief you were getting.

but it began to slip away just as you heard footsteps. you turned quickly and saw carmen, his face concerned and his brows knitted together as he saw you.

you held your hands up, “stop. just, stop right there.” you brushed down the fabric of your apron, now loose around your waist from your previous attempt at removing it.

carmy neared you, and he sighed, “what the fuck was that?” his curls fell just slightly over his forehead, and normally you’d take the time to brush it out of his face, but you were frozen.

you shook your head, and silence fell upon you when you tried to form the words. you felt like crying, there was a big, welling knot in your chest that made you want to cry.

“y/n-“ his voice again broke your thoughts and you wanted to scream, “oh my god! i don’t know! i don’t fucking know what’s wrong with me, carmen! i don’t know why,” you sobbed, “i feel this way..”

there was another beat, where all he could do was stare at you, his hand motioning in a circle over and over again on his chest. you looked at him and nodded, “no. it’s nothing you did, don’t apologize..” you exhaled, and stepped away from him, trying hard to collect yourself. carmy followed you and you inhaled sharply, “my parents are getting a divorce.” you dug your phone out underneath your apron and from your jeans pocket, opening the text thread to show carmy.

carmy looked down at it and shrugged, “so fucking what? they’ve hated each other their entire marriage, it’ll be okay-“ he neared you but you stopped him, holding a hand up as you sniffled.

normally you wouldn’t have cared, had it been any other little thing. but this, “they’re my parents, carm. no matter who hates who or how much..” you inhaled, concealing a sob, “they’re my parents.” you felt like a little kid, embarrassed to be crying so hard after trying to bottle it up.

carmy patted your back, but you exhaled, “i just need a minute. mhm?” you sniffled, and carm nodded, but he didn’t move.

you looked at him, and raised an eyebrow, “a minute?” you repeated and carmen nodded, “yeah.” but he didn’t move.

you sighed, and realized what he was doing. finally, you stopped trying to push him away and walked over, holding your arms out as he took you in his.

he held you, his chin resting on top of your head, you sobbed quietly, “this isn’t fair..” you muttered, “i-“

his hand drew circles on your back, soothing you, “it’s okay, bug. it’ll be okay.” it had taken him a lot of learning and healthy habits to be able to comfort another person. in the beginning, you had to teach him how to be there for someone, and all those things he learned from you had boiled down to this moment.

he kissed your forehead, brushing his thumbs just over your cheeks, the tears going with, “we’ll talk about this later. just promise me that next time something happens-“ he paused, “you’ll stop bottling it up. hmm?” you pulled away and looked up at him.

your eyes felt puffy, but you nodded, “yes, chef.” and you went to hug him again, needing the warmth of carmy one more time before you went in.

[angelofsmalldeaath]

you'll always find me in the kitchen at parties — a.h.b.

a/n: this is based on one of the songs mentioned in this interview. the prompt is "a song for when you're getting ready to go out, but you actually want to stay in"

cw: suggestive, kissing and making out

“red or pink?” i hold up two tubes of lipstick in front of him. he frowns. 

“neither,” he takes them out of my hands one after the other and hides them behind his back. “i’d rather you stayed.”

i click my tongue and look at him, exasperated once again. he’s been on our bed for the past twenty minutes now, watching me ritualistically put on my makeup, once step after the other like i’ve done for years. 

“baby, don’t be like this,” i get off the chair and stand in front of him, between his legs. then i cradle his face. “it’s a work thing. i have to be there…”

truth is i’d rather be anywhere but at the work thing. i know it’s going to be one of those events that goes on and on and on until every last person is sleepy and bored out of their minds. then there is shitty food. 

“will you return my lipsticks, please?”

“and what if i said no?” he puts his arms around me and rests his chin on my sternum, effectively trapping me in place. 

“i’d have to wrestle you for them,” i smirk, indulging him.

“you’d never win against me,” he declares, his voice all confident until i scratch his scalp with my nails. whatever words he was about to say dissolve on his tongue as he sighs, practically melting in place. 

“you sure about that?” i tease and drag my nails through hair once again. 

once his eyes flutter shut, he shifts, squishing his face in my boobs, tightening his arms around me some more. 

“i’ve got you now,” his voice is muffled, i feel the vibrations in my chest, “where will you go?”

the clock on the wall ticks, inching closer and closer to when i have to leave. the more the seconds tick by the more my feet feel frozen in place, my body rooted in his arms, my brain unwilling to do the ‘right thing’. i should untangle myself from his embrace and step away. instead i climb onto his lap. 

“oh?” he looks at me with renewed interest, mouth curving into a smug smile. 

i take my chance and reach behind him, closing my fist around one of the lipsticks. quickly i yank my arm back and hold it up in front of him. it’s the pink one, the one i didn’t want. “gotcha!”

he looks at the bullet then back at me, moving his hands from my hips to my waist. a confused frown makes its way onto my face. “what are you—”

i yelp before i can finish my question. in an instance i’m off his lap and somehow under him on the bed as he flips us both, faster than i could have imagined. the lipstick goes flying halfway across the room.

“gotcha…” he whispers, close enough that our breaths mix together. “do you still want to leave?”

no. no no no. i haven’t wanted to leave all evening, not when he looks at me with so much longing and want and love. not when he looks like that…

the other lipstick tube rolls against my thigh, within my reach now. instead, i place my hand on his cheek, crane my neck until i can press my lips against his.

barely a second passes before he deepens the kiss, moves his hand from my waist to my ribs. 

his familiar weight on top of me is comfortable, safe. i fist his t-shirt and giggle when he does the same to my dress, wrinkling it instantly. 

“you won’t let me go, will you?”

he clicks his tongue, kissing my jaw, “not a chance.”

“i should just tell them i got food poisoning, shouldn’t i?”

“absolutely. oh, you are deathly ill right now.”

i giggle again, letting him slide away the straps off my dress and kiss the bare skin of my shoulder. 

“for the record,” he murmurs, “i would have picked red.”

“yeah?”

he nods, pulling away slightly so he can look at me properly. “looks the best on you. looks the best on me when you kiss me…”

“and pink doesn’t?” i tease. 

this time it’s his turn to thread his fingers through my scalp. i sigh and almost close my eyes. “well now that you’ve decided to stay…” he swoops down and captures my lips in another lingering kiss, “we could test out all the shades.”

“i think that’s a good use of our time,” i laugh, and kiss him once again. 

[kechiwrites]

white flag toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader part 5/?

synopsis: maybe it's time to give up the ghost. lord knows you tried.

wc: 2k

cw: afab!reader, angst, hurt and some comfort (finally), language, allusions to postpartum depression, abandonment issues, trust issues, no gendered language, discussions of pregnancy. no use of y/n ever.

author’s note: the talk is finally here! i hope you enjoy, i am very proud of it. new to baby blue? start here.

It’s almost one in the morning when the bed creaks under Ghost's body, signalling his departure. The immediate absence of his warmth, the loss of his skin on yours makes you miserable in a way you wish you didn't have to examine. It makes you feel weak and yearning and empty and wistful all at once, tumbling all the emotions together until it spills out of your mouth unbidden.

“Will you stay?” You whisper it, almost as if you want it to go unheard.

It's heard.

Immediately, Ghost stops moving, stops dressing. Hell, you're almost positive he'd stopped breathing.

“You want me to?” he turns to face you, expression typically placid but his body frozen with tension.

You feel like you’re going to be sick all over your sheets when you croak “yeah” out into the stillness of your bedroom, spitting your white flag at his feet, for him to accept or trample over. 

Neither of you move for what feels like an eternity. Staring into each other's faces like they hold the answers to all the bullshit questions you made in each other. 

You break first. 

"C'mere. Please." You shift under your blanket, nodding your head towards the indent he’d made in your mattress, the sheets still warm from his heat.

Ghost is quick to move, reclaiming his spot in your bed, sliding under your covers and into your grasp, where you can cling to him like you wanted to years ago. Like you want to now. 

Your head sits on the swell of his chest, his heart beating even and quick below your ear. The position you're in makes your lower back twinge, but neither of you move, your legs now twisted in his. Initially, when he’d returned after Tommy’s fourth birthday, you’d been worried about what you’d say to him, how you’d finally tell him everything you’ve been thinking from the moment he left you. Now, the words are easy. They come when they are called, straight from your mind, stewed in your grief, pinched, sorrowful words, soaked with your tears, spoken into the dark, thin fabric of his shirt.

“I hate you.” You gasp, and wind howls through the cavern in your chest, “I hate you so much, I wish I never met you.” Hot tears burn your eyes and slide over your nose and cheeks, you hiccup through your burning throat and just speak.

"You ruined my life, you gave me this person, this little person who needs me for everything, and then you abandoned me. For so long I hated you and I hated him." Ghost's chest stops rising and falling for a moment when you confess it, the shame and anger catching him off guard. It's clear he can't quite believe it after seeing you with Tommy day after day, being who your son needed you to be, raising him, loving him, all like it was second nature. And why should he? He was off God knows where, doing God knows what while you tumbled through heavy bouts of depression and self loathing. Days where you wanted to stay rotting in your bed, but Tommy's reedy, desperate cries forced you to rise, to resist. 

"I hated my own son. My baby. Because of you." The window in your bedroom is open, and the rain outside gets heavier, like it’s trying to drown out the sounds of your confession, your accusation, like it wants to bury your humiliation and vitriol under the rushing white noise. Fill the cavern with water instead of letting it close.

“Why couldn't you just stay for me, Simon? Why couldn't you be who I needed you to be?” 

He’s breathing again, slow and steady but you can hear his heart thud irregularly in his chest, like it’s trying to follow the thread of your thoughts, but it can’t quite keep tempo. 

‘He’s scared.’ you think, and for the first time, in a long time, it doesn’t feel good. 

“I felt like I was dying. Tommy has your big ass head,” your laughter sounds like a death rattle, but you press on, spilling the dark, black ichor of the past onto Simon, into the bed you share. "It hurt so bad, the worst pain I ever felt. And I was alone. You left me alone. I wanted to die so bad.”

“I'm sorry.” he finally speaks, and it’s always a little surreal to hear his voice without it being muffled by a mask after so long. Strange to hear how deep and clear his voice can be when there isn’t a barrier between you, or your blood rushing past your ears. 

Ghost is holding you so tight, like you’ll get up and bolt at any minute, and maybe you will. Cause he’d deserve it. He’d deserve to be left behind. Just this once.

“Why? You knew what you were doing to me. You left knowing I wanted him. Knowing I'd do it all by myself. And now you're back, and you want to what? Fuck me? Break me? What do you want, Simon? How can I make you stop this…game you're playing.” You’re crying again, a small headache beginning to form at the base of your skull, reminding you what sorrow costs, what getting it all out will bring you. Pain. Pain that leaves you feeble and empty and bone-fucking-tired.

Somehow, his arms tighten around you further, feeling all at once like attachment and hatred and deep deep longing for intimacy with the one person who saw you as you were and decided he didn't want to stick around to see the rest. 

“And you know what? I know that none of this means shit for you because I let you fuck me again. Because I have no goddamn self control." You have to rein yourself back from shouting into the dark. "No self respect. A-and I can't stop missing you, missing you and me together, because it felt so real, it felt like you loved me." You anchor yourself up, letting the tears that collected on your nose and cheeks fall onto his chest. The pressure in your ears changes and you sniff against your runny nose. You feel pathetic, tiny in the wake of the all encompassing ache he brings with him everywhere. You can barely see him in the dark but you try to meet his eyes anyway. "If you ever, ever cared about me, if you care about your son, Simon, you will stop trying to break me down. You will give up on being a family. You lost your fucking chance. And it's not fair for you to come back when I know - I know - you're going to leave again."

You're short of breath and light headed when you finally stop, gulping down air and springing up tears for the third time, burning hot on your face, stinging your eyes so badly you worry the pain will never subside.

He waits a moment, before he sits up too, like he wants to be sure you got it all out before he tries and inevitably fails to make everything better. 

"I fucked up. I get that. But I can't let go of it. Of this." His voice creates this itch inside your head, like it needs something specific to go away. You’re sitting between his legs now, hands fisted in your soft white blanket, the body warmed fabric poking out between your fingers. 

“I’m trying, and you don’t want me to. He doesn’t need me to. But I want to.”

You both sit with it for a while, chewing on each other’s regrets, on his mistakes, on your heartache. It’s strange, hearing an actual apology from him, like you’d dreamed about early on. Cloudy blue and pink fantasies about opening your front door and seeing the father of your child on his knees, begging for forgiveness, grovelling for a second chance. It hadn’t happened, of course. And you’d let him into your bed anyway, because you’d missed him, four years and five months had passed you by and you still felt his absence, still felt cold at night, still felt empty in the morning. So when he knocked, you let him in.

And maybe that’s where the next question you ask him comes from. You were rarely jealous when you were actually "together", but now, the idea of Simon, your Simon, cuddled up with someone different? Enjoying himself while you toiled? Chuckling deep and low while you cried to your ceiling? It made your stomach turn. Maybe you weren't so much jealous as you were bitter. Bitter, you knew. Bitter was your closest friend. Bitter stood by your side while you raised your son, paid your bills, scrubbed your floors. Bitter was all you could taste lately.

"Was there ever…anyone else?"

He shifts next to you. Tries to play it off like a stretch. Like the line of questioning didn't burrow under his skin like a mite, eager to lay eggs that hatch guilt into his blood.

But you know better. You know him better. 

"No one important." He mutters. 

"Well that doesn't matter, I wasn't important and you knocked me up!" Your laugh smacks of your best friend, its acrid taste settling in your mouth.

"You were important. Are important." He asserts, circling his hand around the back of your neck, squeezing once before he lets go.

"Not enough for you to stay. Or call." You mumble.

You aren't even looking at him and you know his hand is up over his face, shielding him from God knows what. 

“I needed you to stay the same. And you couldn’t anymore.” You want to turn and face him, argue that he changed you. You didn’t make your son by yourself after all. He stops you, keeps you facing your bedroom wall while he hunches over to press his face into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder.

"And I don’t want to need anybody, I haven’t in a long time."

"Least of all me, huh?"

“You know that isn’t true.”

“I don’t know shit.” You gesture around your hands waving over the entire of your bedroom. “Clearly. If I knew what you thought of me, we wouldn’t be here. In this fucking…mess. Right?” 

It’s another white flag, if you were being honest, an opportunity for him to take your olive branch and not smack you across the face with it. A sign that the fuel for this particular fire, at least, has begun to burn out, leaving little but glowing embers behind.  

In lieu of speaking, his arms tighten around you again. It’s not an answer, not really, but you leave it alone. You push on a different wound. And another. And another. You poke and prod Simon with every question you’d had while he was gone, and you don’t care about the blood you leave in your wake. 

“Does the force know?” They do now.

“How?” I told ‘em.

“Why’d you tell them?” It’s…You’re important.

“No we aren’t. Not to you.” A shake of the head and a quiet rebuttal.

Eventually, it feels like the two of you keep speaking in circles, he asserts things are different, you doubt and lay righteous blame, he apologizes and asserts things have changed now, and so on and so forth until the late hour tugs at your swollen eyelids. He pulls you down to the mattress, lays back and arranges you across his chest once more. Your legs fit together a little better now, and you can feel sleep slowly taking hold of you. 

Before you slip under, you murmur into his chest; "Simon.” He makes a low noise in his throat, an indication of his attention. “Do you love me? Did you ever love me?" It’s a plea for the truth, for an answer so irrefutable that it finally soothes the ache, scratches the itch, mends the torn fabric that lays between you.

"You're as close as I ever got." You feel his lips press against the crown of your head before you fall asleep, succumbing to a simple, dreamless slumber.

When you wake up the next morning, he's there. Not sleeping. His hair is a mess, and his face is bare. He's reclined against your headboard, reading a romance paperback you borrowed from the library, frowning at the yellowed pages like it's written in Latin.

When you start to cry, he holds you until Tommy stirs awake, knocking at your door for Sunday morning pancakes.

so...what'd we think? this one made my husband cry :)

series masterlist here

support city girls who like sad broken men, reblog what you like.

[adrunkskeletonsduck]

Tʜᴇ Wᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ Yᴏᴜʀ Wᴏʀᴅs | Pᴀʀᴛ 2

➜ Pairing: Aonung x fem!Sully!reader

➜ Warnings: fighting, angst, mentions of body image issues

➜ Word Count: 0.9k

➜ Notes: I almost lost the entire fic

Pᴀʀᴛ 1 | Pᴀʀᴛ 2 | Pᴀʀᴛ 3

Aᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

You’d been threading together a new necklace and humming a low tune to yourself when your attention was pulled from your work. You looked up at the sound of someone entering the Muri pod, your face dropped instantly as you saw it was Aonung, who seemed hesitant, almost nervous, as he stepped inside. His words from earlier that day still rang loudly in your ears, he was the last person you wanted to see at the moment. You’d busied yourself right after as a means of distraction, but the work your mother had provided could only distract you so much from the building sense of dread for yourself.  

You averted your gaze back to your work quickly, continuing your task.  

“Neteyam will kill you if he sees you here,” you stated, and Aonung flinched at the distaste in your tone. Distaste for him. He didn’t respond, not because he didn’t think you were worth his time of day but because he was unsure what to say. His stomach churned with anxiety and suddenly he felt like this had been a bad idea. Why was he even here in the first place again? To apologize to you, right, but what was he even planning on saying?  

You stood, tying of the necklace and setting it by your feet before crossing your arms over your chest. “If you’re here to torment again then just leave, I’m not in the mood for this.”  

He looked at you, guilt weighing in his eyes as he spoke in a hushed tone. For a moment you almost felt bad for being so harsh on him. Almost.  

“No, no that’s not why I’m here,” he finally said, and you raised an eyebrow. 

“Then why are you here?” you asked  

He cleared his throat awkwardly, “I’m here to apologize,” this time his words came out more confidently, and you didn’t have to strain to hear them, still you scoffed.  

“An apology won’t do anything.”  

“Then how can I make it up to you?” he surprised even himself with the question, he had never gone to these lengths for anyone, simply because he had never cared to. So, what made you so different from everyone else that he found himself chasing after you like this? 

“You can’t.” Your words were like knives in his chest, and he took a sharp breath in feeling himself growing desperate and impatient.  

“Look I really didn’t mean any of those things I said. I don’t think your body is weird, I think it’s beautiful. I think your beautiful- “  

“Your words just don’t come from nowhere Aonung! You said it and you can’t take it back or anything that those words will put me through! So, no you cannot make it up to me!” Your mouth was moving on its own accord, and the volume of your voice going up until you were screaming at him.  

Aonung stood frozen across the room, fists balled at his sides and jaw clenched shut tightly. There was a long, drawn-out silence between the two of you once you’d finished. Aonung was the one to break it after a moment. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this,” he started, “It was one stupid comment and I didn’t even mean it! You’re being ridiculous-” you strode across the room, cutting him off with a loud smack as you reached out and slapped him clean across the face. The action made his head jerk to the side roughly and his eyes widen. You were just as stunned by your actions as he was but you swallowed your surprise and looked up at him.  

“Get out,” you whispered, glossy eyes staring at him fiercely. He was fuming with anger and you could practically feel it rolling of him in waves as he turned his head back towards you, but you stood your ground, raising your voice again when he didn’t budge, “Get out!” you yelled again.  

This time he listened, spiting curses at you as he walked out, one hand still balled into a fist by his side while the other rubbed the cheek where you had slapped him. Even after he was well out of sight, you stood there staring after him until the tears welled in your eyes began to drip down your face, until your hands began to shake and your body began to heave with sobs. You fell to the ground, one hand clutched against your heart as you cried, strangled sounds leaving you.  

You couldn’t understand why this was happening to you, or what you’d done to deserve it. This stupid insecurity had weaseled its way into every corner of your life, and killed every flower in your garden. You wished so badly to get rid of it and every time you began to think you had it would come back and smother another spark. It wasn’t fair that you had to carry this burden. 

You looked behind you, focusing onto the necklace you’d been working on that now laid discarded on the ground. You could barely make out its shape now through your tears, but you didn’t need to see it to know where each colorful bead and stone laid. It had been for him and you weren't even sure why you’d finished it after the incident earlier that afternoon. Maybe you just hadn't wanted your hard work to go to waste, but now you were sure it would, because you really didn’t see either of you coming back from this.  

Maybe you’d just have to give it to Tsireya instead. 

@cherridile @oomietopia @yeosxxx

[imagines--galore]

||Masterlist||

Please read rules before sending requests.

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED FOR THE MOMENT.

(Always Uploading new Fics)

Avatar The Last Airbender

Pairing: Zuko x Orora

The Thread of Fate - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty-One, Part Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three, Twenty-Four, Twenty-Five

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

It Was Nothing

Theatrics

I’m Here Beside You

Big Hero 6

Pairing: Tadashi Hamada x Sakura Kamiya

Light 'em Up -  Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, 

Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Evelyn Richardson

Mind Over Matter - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen,

(Companion piece to Mind Over Matter)

A Slight Frustration

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Hold Me Closer

First Kiss

Don’t Go!

Crossover - Frozen x Rise of the Guardians

Pairing: Jack Frost x Elsa (Jelsa)

One Step Closer - Part One, Part Two (InProgress)

Digimon

Pairing: Taichi Yagami x Hidemi Senshi

The Next Adventure

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood

Pairing: Alphonse Elric x Willow Hawkeye(OC)

The Ties That Bind - Prologue, Part One,

Pairing: Edward Elric x Reader

Homecoming

The Language of Flowers

Pairing: Roy Mustang x Reader

I Will Always Choose You

Harry Potter

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Reluctant Friendship

Justice League DC Universe

Pairing: Superman x Lucky Penny aka Clark Kent x Penelope Pennyworth

Lucky Break

Pairing: Superman aka Clark Kent x Reader

Part One - Convince Me, Part Two - I’m Convinced

Wedding Drama

Pairing: (Platonic) Superman aka Clark Kent x 12-year-old reader

A New Life

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Rachel

Kiss It Away

Stolen Kisses, Stolen Moments - Part One, Part Two

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Confessions

Last Night

Empowering

Distraction

Pairing: Dr. Stephen Strange x Clea

Love, A Kind of Magic - Part One, Part Two

Pairing: Dr. Stephen Strange x Reader

Bleeding Love

Perfection

A Surprising Twist

Sleep Deprived

What the Wife Says Goes

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Nothing But a Burden

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A Pact Renewed

Because You’re Mine

Not a Waste of Space

Just Hold Me

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Never Leave Me

Pirates of the Caribbean

Pairing: Will Turner x Reader

My Heart Calls Your Name

Tavern Brawls

Rise of the Guardians

Pairing: Jack Frost x Evening Star aka The Blue Fairy

Two Spirits Meet - Wishing on a Snowflake I,

Sherlock (BBC)

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Serendipity

The Consulting Detective and the Serial Killer

His Love for Her

Your Hand in Mine

Drunken Comfort

Its All Been Arranged

An Unconventional Love Story (Victorian Era AU)

Star Trek(2009)

Pairing: Spock x Kealoha

The Roommate Experiment - Prologue, Part One

Pairing: Spock x Reader

The Little Green Monster

Chasing Away The Darkness

Here For You (InProgress)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Pairing: Leonardo x Amal

Heaven’s Light

A Comforting Embrace

The Amazing Spiderman

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A Nonverbal Confession

Falling For Him

Heal Together

Drunk on Pheromones

Take All The Time You Need

Falling for the Enemy

The Chronicles of Narnia

Pairing: Peter Pevensie x Reader

An Unexpected Turn

We Face It Together

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Reader

The King and the Commoner

The Hobbit

Creepy Crawlies (No Pairing)

Pairing: Kili x Reader

You Are Safe

The Lord of the Rings

Pairing: Legolas x Annúneth

Love Happens(Coming Soon)

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

We Meet Again A Confession Years In The Making

My Prayer, My Light, My Fëa

A Little Introduction to Rock Music

A Promise

Written In The Stars

Treasure Planet

Pairing: Jim Hawkins x Reader

A Little Competition Goes a Long Way

[skyjasper]

The Devil and I

Reader X Azriel

Summary: the time for war has come, yet her powers have not. What will she do when everyone she loves, including her mate, is suffering on the battlefield below.

Warnings: gore, violence, light NSFW, talks of sex.

A/N: ik yall wanted a new AZ one shot soooo here you are :))) this is based off of the song Me and the Devil. If you wanna check out my other works you can do so here:

Masterlist.

Word count: 1.07 K (short IK)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The war raged on the battlefield below her, screams of agony wailing through the wind. She was completely powerless as her mate fought. She watched her high lord cast waves of his power, killing multiple as he engaged in combat. She was on her knees, hands digging into the land below her. She heard Azriels roaring scream all the way from her cliff top.

“Please Mother. I beg for some forgiveness, please give me a tool to help fight. We are losing, I can’t stand by. Please Mother, grant me the powers that were stolen from you by my ancestors for promise I will return it.” She whispered into the grass with her head bowed. 

Something tugged on her hands, pulling her fingers into the land. A small scream escaped her before the rest of her was covered with roots and dirt. Her body was pulled deep into the ground, small bugs crawling over her. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t move as something forced its way down her mouth. 

Dirt and dust filled her body, humming as if to say if you want power so bad then have it. Then her body was being forced out of the ground, new things adorned her body. Cufflinks made of root and tree wrapped itself around her arms. Her former clothing, now replaced by a garment made of leaves and flowers, covering the most delicate parts of her.

Vines raked up her legs and around her body, hounding her together. Her hair was now braided down her back with vines and flowers growing out of her hair, the top of her head was now adorned with a crown made of tree twigs and cones. 

She felt the power flowing through her body, thrumming under her skin. A large root grew out of the ground where she stood, lifting her into the air. She felt more than heard the silence on both fronts. When she looked down she was met with a ground looking back at her. She stepped off the cliff, trusting her powers to allow roots to carry her to the ground. As her foot made contact with solid earth the war raged again. 

Yet this time the screams were pointed towards her. The few who attempted to attack her were frozen in place with vines crawling over their feet. The vines and roots slithered up their bodies and down their mouths still opened in a scream. She watched as vines popped out of every crevice, their eyes, ears, noses, even through their pores. She absorbed their power as they were turned into dirt.

She heard Azriels loud grunt from her right. Her head snapped to the sound, eyes zeroing in on the perpetrator causing his pain. She tugged on the gold thread in between them. She walked quickly towards him, slaughtering anyone and everyone in her path. Her eyes were set on her mate and she would stop at nothing to get to him. 

When she did get to him, his attacker was already headless. She turned to her mate, his blue siphons flaring as they made eye contact. She felt his pride and heat flow through the bond. 

“My little huntress.” He whispered as he stalked to her.

The battle around them seemed to disappear as he neared. All she could hear was her heart beating out of her chest. Her hands reached into his hair when he got close enough. He smiled down at her with a predatory smirk, his shadows going crazy around him. 

She smashed her lips to his blood covered lip. Her hands pulled on his hair as his hands met her back side. One of his arms stayed on her butt while the other snuck around her waist, pulling her closer. Rooting swirled over both of their feet as she let out a small moan.

“Show them what you’re made of. Show them exactly how strong you are. Remind them to never underestimate you ever again.” He whispered against her mouth. 

His wings flared as one of her hands grazed their most sensitive spots.

“End this war. Once and for all?” She asked against his lips. With a wicked smirk he nodded.

A matching smirk fell upon her face as she lifted the two of them, slightly above the blood and gore. She turned, her back now flush with the shadowsingers front. She looked upon the masses and with a wicked smile she unleashed her power upon Hybern. 

Multiple thick, stocky roots broke from the ground, obliterating anyone who stood on their ground. Thick ropes of ivy surrounded the other soldiers, squeezing until their body’s burst, blood rained upon the soldiers of Hybern. 

New screams were heard, screams of cheer and victory rang out loud. Her power continued to flow, killing every last soldier. She found the king and wrapped him with a large root, carrying him to the feet of the oldest Archeron sister. Allowing her to exact her revenge.

The blood reached both her Azriel. She felt it pour down her face, over her leaves. She felt Azriels hand tighten around her waist and his lips making contact with her neck. She let her head roll onto Azriels shoulder as he kissed the most sensitive spot on her neck. 

The war was over, they had won. She had obliterated Hybern, all for her mate. She gained power from the mother for her mate. She lowered the pair over to where all the high lords stood. Her head bowed to the powerful beings.

“Do not bow, girl. Stand tall, for you have just won.” Ameren spoke. Her voice was different, clearer now. She was unsure of what all happened in the fight, but she was sure of one thing. That she would no longer be weak. 

The high lords offered her a hand. A voice of sorts. When she called upon the mother to return her power, she did not answer.

Keep it. I have no use for it. Find lands to raise, take care of the earth girl. 

With a nod she shook each of their hands. Then she turned back to her mate, a look of exhaust in her eyes. He nodded with understanding, taking her hand and winnowing them to their tent in the woods.

It was there that he claimed her body, again and again. Their tent was now surrounded by trees and flowers. 

“My huntress.” He whispered into her thighs.

“My hunter.” She responded.

~~~~~~~

A/N:

Here’s a short little one shot :) I absolutely love this one.

Taglist:

@littlelunatica @going-through-shit @annaaaaa88 @i-am-infinite @impossibellesliteraryloves