#to scream until my throat is hoarse and to feel rage and love and happiness and sadness and pain and joy

[kanisema-blog]

Naur

The world is awash in a shade of crimson, like a giant stain on an otherwise pristine white sheet. Amir stands before me, his hands balled into fists at his sides, chest heaving with each labored breath. His eyes are filled with a mixture of anger and anguish, and his face contorts as he struggles to control his emotions. I take a step back, feeling an overwhelming sense of fear wash over me. This is not the man I thought I knew. Not the man I loved.

He advances toward me, each step bringing him closer to the edge of sanity. His voice is hoarse with rage as he screams at me, accusations flying through the air like sharp knives. "How could you?" he shouts, his voice echoing off the walls of the alleyway. "How could you betray me like this?"

I flinch at his words, feeling a stinging sensation in my eyes. I want to tell him it was all a mistake, that I never meant for any of this to happen. But the words catch in my throat, and all that comes out is a strangled sob.

Amir paces back and forth before me, his hands twitching at his sides. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Tell me, Amanda," he says, his voice softening just enough for me to hear the pain beneath it. "Tell me why you did it."

I look up at him, feeling a mix of shame and defiance rising within me. "I-I didn't mean for it to happen," I stammer. "It was just a one-time thing. I didn't know how much I loved you until I saw him that night. I'm so sorry, Amir. I never wanted to hurt you."

He stares at me intently, searching my eyes for any sign of deception. "And you expect me to believe that?" he asks, his voice laced with disbelief. "You expect me to forgive you for this?"

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on my chest. "I-I know it's hard to believe," I stammer. "But I swear it was just that one time. I never meant for things to get out of control. I just wanted to feel loved again, and I thought you were happy with her."

Amir's expression hardens at my words, and he takes a step closer, his face mere inches from mine. "You thought I was happy with her?" he repeats, his voice dangerously low. "You didn't think I would find out about your little secret?"

I shrink back, feeling the heat of his breath on my cheek. "I-I didn't know what to think," I stammer. "You were always so busy with your work, and she… she seemed to have you wrapped around her finger. I just wanted someone to notice me again, to make me feel wanted."

Amir's eyes narrow, and he takes another step closer, his chest nearly touching mine now. "And you thought sleeping with my best friend's brother would make me notice you?" he asks, each word cutting deeper than the last. "You thought that would make me love you?"

I can feel my heart racing, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "I-I didn't think about it," I stammer. "I just wanted to feel something, and he was there. I was so lonely, Amir. I never meant for this to happen."

He stares at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, his hand snaps out, gripping my arm tightly. Pain shoots up my arm, but I barely register it through the haze of terror. "You should have thought about it," he says through gritted teeth. "You should have thought about how this would hurt me. How it would destroy everything we had."

I try to pull away from him, but his grip is like steel. "I-I'm sorry," I choke out. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

Amir's expression softens just slightly. "I know you didn't," he says, his voice quiet and distant. "But you should have thought about the consequences. You should have known better." He releases my arm, and I collapse to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. "I can't believe this," he mutters to himself. "I can't believe you did this to me." He paces back and forth, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix this."

I wipe the tears from my eyes, struggling to catch my breath. "I'm so sorry, Amir," I manage to choke out. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I just wanted to feel loved again. Please, don't hate me."

He turns away, shaking his head. "I don't hate you, Amanda," he says, his voice strained. "I could never hate you. But I am hurt. So, so hurt. And I don't know if I can ever forgive you for this."

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself before continuing. "I need some time to myself. To think about everything. I need you to go home, Amanda. I need some space." He walks away, leaving me alone in the alleyway, my heart shattering into a million pieces.

[panic-and-procrastinate-writing]

Love & Hate

i think i have an idea of how my lantern oc got their rings! Being queer is a VERY big part of their identity, bc of the amount of trauma surrounding it. Tw: homophobia, transphobia and violence.

i imagine they would have had a very passive agressive family when it comes to being nonbinary and pansexual, it would be variations of “you’re just confused” to “why can’t you go back to be a girl? all these pronouns are so difficult.” and it would make them resent their family very very much.

they manage to go low conact with their family, moving out and really only seeing them on birthdays, but it all comes to head one day when they’re at pride.

it was a beautiful day in london, July. They’re happy, dancing and laughing with their community and friends, celebrating themselves and how far they had come. The sun beaming down graciously on all the queers that walked the parade, making their gitter eyeshadow twinkle. 

but theres gun shots, and screaming, and Lantern is on the floor choking on tear gas as it fills the crowd. through blurry vision, lantern can see police boots marching in, riot gear and guns, shooting at people running away.

sensless violence ensued, and lantern watches with horror as their community, their family, are gunned down in front of their eyes.

A gun is raised to their teary face, but a plaid shirt blocks the bullets.

They laid there for minutes, staring at the pronoun badge underneath this persons body as the police coninuted to shoot them. Eventually they walked away, leaving a strangers corpse ontop of lanterns body.

when the police marched further down, and the sound of their guns became faint, their bodies dissapearing in the foggy tear gas. lantern crawled out from under the corpse, and looked at the person who saved their life.

they didn’t recognise them. a stranger. A butch in a plaid shirt and a he/him pronoun badge had saved their life, not knowing them at all.

Stricken by untold greif and rage, they cried and cried and cried until their throat went hoarse with screaming.  

It wasn’t fair. How loving and selfless he was, to give his life for a stranger they didn’t know, just becuase he was apart of the same community. Because thats what family did, protect each other. 

Warmth was blossoming in their chest, a fire so raging and passionate it made the tears on their face feel cold.

They loved their community, the lengths they would go to, to protect each other.

They hated their oppressors, and themselves, for this shouldn’t have happened at all.

As they cradled their beloved queer sibling in their arms and mourned the deaths of so many others, twin beams of light descend on the earth, red and violet slotting themselves on their fingers.

“You have great rage in your heart.”

“You have great love in your heart.”

Pain like that of a blistering iron being stabbed into their chest, Euphoria like that of hot fingers running across their skin, boiling blood rushing through their veins, they screamed as the two sensations of pure elation and pure pain melded into nothing but heat, and they felt themselves cacoon into a marvel of crystal, a giant garnet.

When they emerged, the caccoon shattered, and the police that were crowding them with guns where blown back by the force of them breaking free.

A red violet lantern rose into the sky, their passion melting the tarmack below them. Vengeance would be had, and their love, their family, would be protected.

[demigoddessqueens]

Hello just want to like request something for critical role, like the one you did before but instead of the almost dying what about if the reader actually died??? Or maybe when they realized that they actually loved you??

I would be happy with either. Love your writing ❤❤

Oooh this hurts 😢 💔 but I love this angsty idea!! Gonna be Big Sad™️ feels and tears. Title is based off That song by Lord Huron.

Follow up to “don’t break my heart” . Posted on ao3

ghost of you

Vex’ahlia:

No, not you. Not you! She's lost a home, her mother, almost her brother, but your life ebbed away. All in a vain attempt. She wants to yell at you, scream, cry, but still have you here with her so that you two can laugh about it later. But the archer will never get that chance. Her quiet sobs are muffled by Vax's tight embrace in a vain attempt to soothe the irreparable damage done to his twin's heart.

Scanlan:

The bard has the hardest time refusing to accept your passing. One moment ago, you managed one last weak smile to him and the next, your hand goes limp in his. At first, it's denial. You're stronger than this, you've gotten through worse. The grief hits him harder than any fight he's survived. His muse, his light, the one who was always by his side in whatever schemes is gone. A cold spot that does not go unnoticed. Scanlan was never the best with words, but the songs compose only talk about what could have been. What was gone, and what he will miss for the remainder of his life.

Pike:

The healer was desperate to get back to you. Panicked voices and scrambling to pack her things. She never sleeps all the days it takes to travel. It's not until the cleric reaches the Keep in Emon does she see the grief-stricken faces of her friends. Grog is the first to break the news to his best friend, and the first to catch her when she sinks to her knees in despair. Faith shattered and heart broken, she can't bring herself to say the final rites that bless you into the next life. What's the point if there's not one to be shared here with her?

Vax’ildan:

The half-elf feels every precious moment dwindling away as your breaths grow more shallow with each passing second. The strain in his voice tugs at your heart. You muster what is last of your strength, the warmth of his lips the last goodbye as you feel everything growing cold. "You'll find me again, love. I promise." You don't feel him clinging to you desperately, begging and sobbing for you to come back. Vex'ahlia sees something break in her twin that day, and she hears him every night when the nightmares and heartbreak are too much for him to handle alone.

Keyleth:

You risked his life for them, but you couldn't save yourself? She's already been ordered to leave her people, and meeting you was the most unexpected element from this quest. The druid tries whatever healing magic she has, begging Scanlan if he can manage it. With your last words, you grip the air ashari's hand to seal it with the last kiss she will feel from you. She does not care that the tears flowed freely, cradling you close to her, begging for you to return. It won't be for another 2000 years that she finally sees you again, and all the memories from before come rushing back to her.

Percy:

When he saw you fall, the sound left the room. Nothing but white noise shrouded his mind as he raced to your side. He still doesn't recall what happened that day, but he must have been yelling as his throat felt hoarse and you cupped his face to soothe him one last time. When he felt your last breath pass, the raging and painful tears just resurface again tenfold. He hears the last words of Delilah in a mocking "- family, and now you couldn't save the one you love" before he strikes her down. He doesn't care what he looks, however frightful the demonic form looks. There was no joy left to salvage in his wretched life.

Grog:

He didn’t know what type of feeling was building in his chest, but Grog was starting to hate it every second. The barbarian can feel the love he had for you shatter with each second, thinking you've just fallen asleep or passed out from the pain. Call it bargaining or denial, it all comes crashing down once Pike returns, because it means that she never healed you. That you haven't woken up since then. Back at the Keep, it's a silent mourning say for the sobs that Pike tries to soothe throughout the night. She adored you as well, and knew how much you meant to her best friend.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑆𝑒𝑥 𝑇𝑎𝑝𝑒 𝐺𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝐿𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑑 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)

Warnings: NSFW content. Aged up/Older Ateez but age differences are still within legal boundaries. Allusions to infidelity. Also contains major spoiler for the dilf!Yeosang fic.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

"Hongjoong? Hongjoong baby?"

You lightly tapped his cheek in an effort to wake him up from his nap on the couch. Fluttering his eyes open, he yawned softly, almost an exact replica of how your son often would.

"What? Is it dinnertime already?" He asked while sitting up.

"Almost, but I noticed your phone was going crazy with notifications so I thought it must be something important."

Kissing his sleepy face, you chuckled and returned to the kitchen before anything accidentally burned. Fixing his hair, Hongjoong picked up his phone to see about 10 missed calls, 20 unread messages and a dozen emails all from different people, most of them from his fellow teachers at the university. Scanning through the first few, Hongjoong became wide awake and immediately began looking back to see the email he had sent right before going to sleep.

"Ok food is- what's going on?" You noticed how agitated he looked.

"Um...well.... funny story. You know how I was supposed to send in my report to the administration? I might have accidentally attached the wrong file on there.." He sheepishly admitted to you.

By his tone, you knew it was probably something serious.

"Ok and what was the file?"

Hongjoong grabbed your arm and placed you next to him.

"You're gonna want to be seated for this."

Hongjoong opened the file and held the phone out for you to see. You widened your eyes as you saw it was the old video he had taken of you sucking him off for the first time when you were at the university. You couldn't help the tiny grin tugging your lips as your loud slurping sounds blasted through the speakers.

"Fuck! Miss Y/N, do you really enjoy sucking cock so much?" Hongjoong's raspy voice was heard on the background, one of his hands holding the back of your head to plunge your mouth further down onto his length. You were seen moaning dramatically as you pulled away slightly, drool falling down your chin.

"I used to, but now I think I'll only love sucking cocks that are as big as yours." You winked as your hand pumped along his shaft, your tongue coming out to swirl around his head.

"Still think a pretty young thing like me can't take a cock like yours Mr. Kim?"

Getting so flustered, Hongjoong stopped the video and ran a hand through his hair as he waited for your outburst. When you were silent for a while, he looked over and was confused to see you smiling.

"I can't believe you kept that after all this time." You giggled as your hands cupped his cheeks.

"Well I.... I just like reminiscing about the old times when you used to give me the best suck of my life."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean used to Kim Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong flushed even more when you came down and sat in front of him as you began pulling his pants down.

"I can still give a blowjob that'll leave you breathless."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

"Well it seems your wife and her lawyer have decided to stoop low in methods to stop the divorce from happening."

Seonghwa's lawyer seemed uneasy about telling you guys about it.

"What did that witch do now?" Seonghwa could already feel a headache coming.

"She submitted a video for the judge and other attorneys to view and hopefully use against you.. but the nature of it...... well it's not exactly something we can show in the courtroom but most of us lawyers have unfortunately seen it."

Leaving the laptop open and sliding it forward to you both, the lawyer stood up and cleared his throat.

"I thought perhaps you two would want to take a look and decide what you'll want to do after this." The poor man left the room, feeling embarrased for you.

You were the one who leaned forward to press play. Seonghwa and you stiffened in your seats when you saw it was an old video you had taken during one of the nights he often went over to your place after one of the many fights he'd have with his wife.

"How did she even get a hold of this?" You asked but you weren't really paying attention to your question and neither was Seonghwa, both of you just watched the screen in front of you, seeing the erotic action unfold.

"Shit! Look at you, all stuffed to the brim with my cum, it's leaking out of you."

Your body jolted underneath Seonghwa as his hips once again slammed into yours, your body aching from the overstimulation he had already been giving you for the past hour but you didn't want him to stop, even after he had cum inside you three times already.

"Keep my cum inside your body my little slut. Don't drop any of it out." His voice was raspy and hoarse as he continued his merciless pounding into you.

You looked like a mess by then, your face was buried on the pillow, nails nearly tearing the sides of it and even though it was muffled, your screams of pleasure could still be distinguished through it.

"I'm gonna breed you my little bunny. Stuff your little hole until you're carrying my babies."

Yanking your hair, Seonghwa pulled you so your back was pressed against his chest.

"Cause that's what you promised me right? You promised you'd let fuck my babies in you right?" He cooed as he nipped at your neck.

You whimpered loudly and nodded at him, tears falling out of your eyes.

"Yes! Please! Breed me Mr. Park. I wanna get fucked with your babies." You begged him, your face scrunching up as another orgasm was being pulled out of you.

Seonghwa and you sat there silently after watching all that, taking it all in. It was him who broke the ice by spinning his chair to you and looking all too smug.

"Well I did knock you up didn't I?"

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Yunho calmly scrolled over the messages in the group chat he had with his friends, all of them bragging or retelling about what they had done over the course of their vacation.

"What'd you do Yunho?" "Something boring probably."

He rolled his eyes at Jongho's sense of humor.

"I actually had a lot of fun at the waterpark with Y/N and my son. I even have a cute video of it."

Scrolling through his gallery, he didn't realize he accidentally clicked on the wrong video thinking it was the one you took as your son was learning to swim. Confidently pressing send, Yunho waited for them to coo over his boy as they always did when anyone shared pictures of their kids.

"Um.... Yunho? What exactly am I watching?" Seonghwa asked while Hongjoong just replied with a shocked faced emoji.

"Damn, did you have fun turning that bed of yours into a waterpark?" Wooyoung added with a winky face emoji.

Wondering what the hell they were talking about, Yunho opened the video he sent and his face fell when he realized what it actually was that he had sent.

"Yu-Yunho.... too big. I can't." You whimpered pathetically on his screen, your hands rubbing along where his bulge poked out on your abdomen.

"Yes you can baby, you've taken all of me before." He reminded you as he slowly stuffed more of his cock inside you until he bottomed out and his cock was enveloped in your walls.

"There? You see. Your tight pussy can fit me just fine."

Feeling so full yet not having him move inside you, you began whining and clenched around him.

"Yunho, please fuck my tight pussy. I wanna get destroyed by your cock. Please." You begged him.

"Awww do you want me to fuck you dumb with my huge cock? Is that what you want?" His mocking tone was unmistakable even if his face wasn't shown.

"I'm gonna fuck you til you're crying baby, don't say you didn't ask for this."

The rest of the video transpired with his grunts and your whimpering. Yunho's cock disappeared in and out of you at a brutal pace, one of his large hands holding you down so you couldn't move away from him. He ripped orgasm after orgasm out of you until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you began squirting all over the sheets.

"Fuckfuckfuck! Yunho!" You cried out, unable to stop shaking as he just continued his pace and made you squirt all over again.

"That's it. Be a good girl and squirt more for me. By the time I'm done, all you're gonna remember is this feeling of me breaking you."

Yunho was giggling out of embarrassment now that he knew what his friends saw.

"All of you delete this right now and pretend it never happened."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang looked down beyond the railing on top of the staircase. Although he should have been horrified, disgusted or the slightest bit sad, his face showed absolutely no emotion whatsoever. He just looked at the scene with no remorse, no emotion and nothing at all.

"Sir?" His trusted butler immediately came up, hands behind his back as he awaited for any instructions

"Take care of this Damian. And make sure no one knows about this. If anyone else knows.... take care of them too." He ordered.

The proper English butler let out a chilling smile as he adjusted his cuff links, happy to be able to put his hidden talents to use.

"Rest assured Sir, no one will suspect a thing." He walked away with chest up and shoulders back.

Meanwhile Yeosang turned his attention back to you, who was sitting with back pressed against the wall, eyes shot wide open as your body couldn't stop trembling and shaking from what had just happened. Kneeling in front of you, Yeosang cupped your face, trying to get you to calm down he began hushing you close to your ear.

"It's ok baby. You're ok, you're going to be ok. And our baby is ok." He cooed at you as he stroked your hair.

"She's..she's..." You couldn't form a proper sentence as your mind replayed everything what just happened.

You had just returned from a small trip to the store and went to your room, only to find Mrs. Kang in there, back turned to you.

"Madame? Is there something I can help you with?" You offered.

When the lady turned to look at you, her face was tear strung and red from all the crying she had done, not from heartbreak, but from rage. In her hand, she had your phone and your heart dropped as you heard what it was that she had been looking at.

"I knew you were probably nothing more than a low, poor common whore, but to actually know you slept with my husband!"

You gasped when she came up and slapped you harshly across the face before yanking your hair and throwing you on the ground. Your hands immediately clasped around your belly protectively and the lady's face fell in shock.

"Don't tell me that the bastard you're carrying is actually..." She clasped a hand over her mouth as it all made sense to her now.

You couldn't help the tears that sprung out from your eyes. This was not what you wanted to happen

"I'm sorry, I-"

You began screaming when she suddenly pulled you up and began dragging you out of the room and into the hallway. When she pressed you up against the railing, you began to fearfully fight back for your and your baby's life, desperately trying to get out of the mad woman's grip.

"I'm going to fucking kill you! You and your child! How dare you do this to me?!"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

"How was I supposed to know there would be a camera right in the middle of the beach placed on a totally secluded place? I mean come on! Hardly anyone ever goes to that spot, why install security cameras on a place hardly anyone goes to?!" San tried to justify himself as you both looked at the computer screen in front of you.

"Maybe precisely because people prefer going to secluded places to do illegal activities?" You glared at him.

"In my defense, it's not like we were hiding a dead body." San wanted to lighten up the mood.

You groaned as you covered your face.

"Why did I even agree to letting you fuck me in public at a beach?"

San rolled his eyes at you.

"Oh stop. You could have said no many times but instead you actually begged me to go harder on you. Don't believe me? I got evidence to back me up."

Pressing play once again, San nudged you so you could look at the video playing again. The good thing about it was that it happened during the night so your faces weren't that visible. But it was clear enough for anyone to see what was going on.

It happened during the vacation you two took to the beach. While talking a midnight stroll through a lonely part of the beach, San had gotten a little too wild and began groping you.

"San! Right now?" You squeaked when he cupped your breasts from behind, pulling your biking top to the side so he could squeeze them better.

"I'm feeling a little romantic babygirl. Wanna have my way with you right here." He whispered in your ear as a hand dipped inside your bikini bottoms, rubbing along your clit.

Your legs were turning to jelly the more you felt his caresses and the steamy kisses he pressed along your shoulder blades.

"If you'd rather go back to the hotel room, I'll carry you there right now." He offered as he began his pull his hands away.

"No! Fuck me right here." You told him.

"I knew you'd open up to the idea." He chuckled as he layed down on the sand, pulling you on top of him.

Both of your swimwear was soon discarded and you were bouncing on top of your husband's cock as the moonlight illuminated your sweaty and dewy bodies. Even after you had both came, you were begging San to keep going, which prompted him to grip your hips and start ramming up into you as he sputtered out words about making another baby with you.

Your lips were still pursed tightly even after the video was over. San stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head in an effort to calm your worries.

"If it makes you feel better....... the camera really captured your gorgeous figure." He snickered and held his hands up protectively when you started smacking him.

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

"You like that my little slut? Like being treated like this?" Mingi's deep voice asked as he tugged on the leash that was wrapped around your neck.

You grunted when he pulled you forward, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips and nose. Your mouth instantly parted, tongue licking the underside of his shaft.

"Such a dirty little cockslut." He teased you.

"Only for you daddy." You winked up at him but were met with a harsh slap on your face.

"Did I say you could talk slut? I don't remember giving you permission to talk." He harshly said.

"Why don't you shut me up then?" You challenged him.

Mingi plunged his cock deep inside your mouth, stuffing himself down your throat, making you gag around his long length. Using the leash, he kept pulling your face to and fro so he could fuck your face. You were moaning and choking all over his cock, spit running down your chin and onto the floor as his tip hit the back of your throat.

"Oh fuck!" Mingi cried out as he pulled out to cum on your face, splattering his hot liquid all over your forehead, cheeks and your tongue as you had it stuck out to eat up some of his cum. Mingi's thumb grazed over your swollen and red lower lip, pinching it slightly.

"You look so pretty like this." He said as he began tightening the leash around you.

"Well you did look pretty." You laughed when Mingi spoke up behind you.

"Shut up!" You pushed his face away when he began nuzzling his face against your cheek as he tried to keep you from freaking out over the fact one of your private videos had accidentally ended up online.

Mingi just chuckled and pulled you onto his lap.

"What are we going to do?" You sighed.

"Look on the bright side, your face was covered by the mask and no one really saw me so as far as anyone is concerned, it's an anonymous couple." He assured you. Wanting to get a little funny, he joked:

"Maybe we could even start an OnlyFans account."

You slapped his chest.

"Song Mingi!"

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Although Wooyoung should have been furious over the fact the CCTV footage of you two in the strip club you used to work in got uploaded without your permission onto an adult site, he was surprisingly calm.

"I could have sworn I payed them to turn the cameras off?" He questioned as he knew fully well that customers weren't allowed to touch the strippers, hence why he paid an expensive amount just to be able to get alone time with you.

"Clearly that didn't happen." You stated as you just watched the video play out in front of you. You weren't going to lie, besides the slight arousal it was giving you to watch the sex tape, it also made you feel fuzzy to remember how your relationship with Wooyoung started in the first place.

"One thousand dollars if you hop your pretty ass over here and bounce yourself on my cock."

Your naked figure wasted no time in going over to take him out of his confinement before fucking yourself on top of him. Wooyoung was spilling out a clutter of curses as he watched your ass bounce on his lap. Soon enough he was landing slaps on your skin until it became red, his hips fucking up into you.

"Your own place, monthly allowance and anything else you want if you leave this place and become my own personal fuck toy."

You nearly came at his words when he made his final offer.

"Fuck! Yes! I accept!" You exclaimed.

Shifting positions, Wooyoung got you on all fours on the couch as he began to relentlessly thrust into you from behind, his cock hitting deep inside you.

"You're my little fuck toy now beautiful. No one else gets to fuck this cunt of yours but me."

You let out a loud yelp that was probably heard outside the door when you felt his hand slap your clit.

"No one, got it?" He snarled at you.

Your thighs clenched together as he remembered how possessive he was, and still was, towards you.

"Did the video affect you so much?" You heard Wooyoung ask as his hands came up to rub your shoulders. You shivered when his teeth grazed at your earlobe.

"Cause I know it affected me."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

"Which one of those fuckers hacked into my personal computer and leaked this?"

Jongho single handedly split an apple which terrified the person in front of him.

"We don't know s-sir...." He trembled.

"Well find out who they were and report back to me, I want you to work fast too. Now get on it!" He ordered harshly.

You came into the office and were confused when a poor intern sped out of there looking like he saw a ghost. Closing the door behind you, you handed Jongho a folder.

"The vein on your forehead is sticking out, what happened?" You knew he was majorly stressing over something and it was probably no small thing.

Huffing, he turned the computer so it could face you.

"One of those fuckers out there got a hold of the systems and managed to hack into my computer. Not only that, they decided to spread a certain video around." He explained, fists clenching and unclenching.

"What video?" You asked.

"Press play and find out."

Doing as he said, you blushed when you saw it was an old video of a time when you and Jongho were still a secret couple. He had stayed over at your house and during the night, he had snuck into your room and crawled his way into your bed, which you allowed him to.

"Shhh. You gotta be quiet princess. Don't want to get caught by your dad right?"

You shook your head and bit down onto one of the plushies laying around you in an effort to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Jongho's thick dick kept sliding in and out of you.

"This is so fucking dirty. I'm ruining you even more by fucking you in the bed you grew up in. Tell me how does it make you feel? To have me shove my cock deep in your pussy in your childhood bedroom while your parents are asleep? Are you enjoying it?"

You whined loudly and clenched more around him as your breathing became more labored and you panted like crazy.

"You enjoyed it so much, you ended up pregnant by me."

You lifted your head to see Jongho wink at you which made you giggle.

"You enjoyed it too, don't even lie."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

[universallychaoticpan]

What does it matter?

Armin x reader

CW and TW: suicidal thoughts, self harming behavior, domestic abuse

The wail that left your throat was more raw, more real than you ever wanted it to be. It was one of pure rage, complete sorrow, the kind that had you thinking you could really feel your heart shattering inside the pit of your chest. Struggling against the man who held you firmly in his grasp, you trashed wildly in any attempt to hurt someone for what the man in front of you had done.

For your lover who now lay dead at your husbands feet.

"Bastard," you screamed, voice already hoarse from grief. "Murderer! You had no right to lay a hand on him. No right-"

You cut yourself off with another heaving sob, the man holding you up releasing you and sending you tumbling to the carpeted floor. Your body was heaving with the force of your sobs, your husband eyeing you coldly as you trembled before him.

"Ampelio," he said, voice lacking any of the feeling yours was laden with, "take my whore of a wife to her chambers. Lock her there and send someone to clean up this room." Sniffing disdainfully, he nudged Armin's cold body with his foot, the action sending you reeling once more. "There's blood on the floor."

Your husband didn't regret what he did. Why should he? You were his, and it wasn't his fault you'd forgotten that.

But he didn't think he'd ever forget the look of pure loathing you fixed on him as you were dragged away, too disgusted to look at him, too angry to pull your eyes away.

/

All that night you raged, screamed and sobbed to the sky outside, threw glass to your walls until it broke the way you had. All the while, your broken voice wailed for the one you loved most. Picking up a shimmering mirror shard, you pulled it across your palm sharply until blood dripped onto the floor. Unsatisfied at the flash of momentary pain, you kept going, until your skin was crossed with shallow cuts, your tears stinging as they hit the ruined surface.

Let him find this, you thought. Let my blood be another nuisance on his hands. Let me be another mess for him to clean up.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't come up with any reason why your life was worth the effort anymore. It wasn't like anyone would miss you if you were gone; the only person who cared was dead now. Dead because you'd been careless. You remembered the way he'd promised he'd get you out; the way his eyes had shone so brightly with hope, with love, as he had held you through the hours. You remembered how warm he had been by your side, body warm against yours as you slumbered and woke next to him. You recalled his promises to take you to the sea, that vast, shinning body of water so full of possibility. If you could make it there together, he'd said, you could make it anywhere. But you were alone now. You were reminded every time you closed your eyes and saw Armin on the floor, hand reaching to you as you screamed in horror. His blood was on your hands, you knew. He was dead because of you. Dead because you had dared to think you could be happy; dead because you had hoped. Your hope had doomed him, and his love clung to the very air you breathed, filling you with regret and longing with every moment.

He'd promised you he would take you away, but now he was gone to a place you could not follow. Pulling yourself up from the floor, you stepped outside to your balcony, watching the night sky silently. The stars were so bright it felt like a sin to be sad, the night so perfect it felt like a crime to mourn. But you mourned still, knowing you would never again enjoy a night like this with him again, never feel his heart beating under your fingertips, never burn away the candles and the nights talking to him.

Slowly the sun began to rise, the sky growing lighter and lighter as you lay still on the floor. Staring without seeing, the only movement that you made was the shudder that ran through your body as your breath quivered on your lips. The world never seemed so terrible. The house you were trapped in had never seemed so cold. You'd never been happy there, that you knew. But at least before, there was someone lovely waiting for you, under your window, tossing kisses to you from below to make you smile.

You refused to move. You wouldn't dress and sit across the table from the man who murdered the only person you'd ever loved. wouldn't trade stiff goodmornings you didn't mean and never would. Instead you sat on your bed, poised and proper, hands folded demurely on your lap with your gaze fixed on the clock on the wall. The minutes ticked down to 9 in the morning, when you would be expected to be downstairs, like you had been since you'd been married. You watched as the hour passed, then waited a little longer as heavy footsteps thudded up the stairs.

Throwing your door open, your husband thundered inside, fuming as you didn't move a muscle to acknowledge him. Slapping you sharply across the face, he sent you sprawling to the floor, grabbing your hair tightly in his hand and lifting your face to his. Defiantly you held his gaze, anger burning in your eyes. You knew he was a dangerous man with a nasty temper, but you ad run out of patience long ago.

"Listen you bitch," he growled, tightening his hold on you until you winced. "I don't care who he was to you. I don't care if you loved him. Hell, I don't care if you love me. But you will not, in my own house, disrespect me."

Further incensed by your silence, he threw you back down, anger still painting your face. Opening your mouth, you saw his eyes light with anticipation as he assumed you would speak. Instead, you spat at his feet, blood on your lips as you wiped it away.

"I owe you nothing," you hissed. "Least of all respect."

This time, he grabbed and dragged you to the rail of the balcony, holding you over it and whispered in your ear menacingly.

"Oh really? Do you forget I saved you from ruin? How far gone your miserable family was in destitution before I took pity on you? I did that so easily, for your sake. You should thank me."

You actually laughed out loud, the sound devoid of joy, instead full of mockery and laced with malice.

"Your a poor excuse for a man, Eren. You killed your best friend for praying on your wife, knowing damn well I'd never love you, nor you me. You don't want a wife. You want something pretty and broken, something to display in a gilded cage so you can brag and say 'look what I have. Isn't it a shame you'll never touch her?' You want me trapped, and I daresay you've done it. You say you saved me? Let's remember I never wanted this."

Eren needed no reminder. He recalled so clearly how you'd looked at him with such resentment, fury bubbling in you as you said goodbye to your parents. He needed no reminding of the distance you kept between you two, the empty shell he'd lain with on your wedding night. You wanted nothing to do with him, that was clear. But if you weren't going to be happy with him, he was going to make damn sure you wouldn't get it anywhere else.

"I could ruin you so easily, you whore. I hold your life in my hands, do you understand?"

"Then let go."

He was dumbfounded. The anger in your eyes was gone, blown out like a feeble candle in a storm. Once again, you stared straight through him, a husk bearing your name in his hands.

"If it would be so easy, then let go. I know you won't. You'll see me waste away in here, knowing you've already destroyed me." Your words were stark and methodical, calculating and empty that chilled Eren to the bone.

"Do what you like with me. I don't care. But know this; no matter what you choose to do with me, I'm finished with you. Kill me, bed me, keep me, I'm through with it all.

"You say marrying me was an act of pity. Have pity on me one last time and let me wither on my own terms."

Letting your words fall with the trained finality of any noble, you ripped yourself from his grasp and returned to your room. You sat, fixed in place just as before. All that moved was your mind, a hurricane as wild as you'd once been. Drowning in memory, you closed your eyes and breathed into recollections of his face. Glimmering like stained glass, you pieced together a lover from your shattered images.

His eyes that held your secrets, that looked at you with such adoration you could believe you were blessed by the stars.

His lips that had spoken love songs to your ears, and pressed kisses to your skin soft as summer rains.

His hands that had penned countless odes to you, cradled you during the night and held your heart safely to him.

You loved him like you never would another, and you knew you never would again.

You knew you weren't going to last long. Not like this. You didn't apologize. You had no remorse to offer. All you gave was a silent prayer to the lover who had saved you;

to the last friend you had.

I'm coming, my love.

Is it too much to ask you to wait for me?

[chilligyu]

info: lee jihoon/gender neutral reader, pg, best friends to lovers au genre: fluff, romance | word ct: 5.5k warnings: none summary: when it came to love, no one was prepared. not even jihoon, who could spend hours turning words into magic, especially when love was mysteriously delivered in the form of a letter to his locker. note: heavily inspired by to all the boys I've loved before, but with a twist! no love triangles or anything like that, so just enjoy awkward people falling in love! and thank you to @dreamystuffers and @starlightjoong for taking a sneak peek and telling me what you think!

tagging: @xfirebenderx, @moriiyun, @ohmygoshcheese, @gyu-log

Lee Jihoon, a genius in many ways, was never good when it came to words. At least, not the spoken kind. The kind that you had to think up on the spot, responses, answers, comebacks, small talk, he was absolutely terrible at it. But if you gave him the time to think, to really dwell on his thoughts, he could create something truly beautiful. Which was why he preferred to express his feelings with letters. And while, yes, he could pen something magnificent, the next great classic novel perhaps, he typically kept his messages short and to the point. Much like the man himself.

There was one time that he wrote a “letter” that was simply—

F U C K Y O U

—printed out on seven separate sheets of paper and taped to a row of lockers. All in response to a teacher confiscating his iPod. No one could prove it was him, though, and nothing happened in response to it. He never admitted to his crimes, and despite it being painfully obvious who the author of the message was, there was no hard proof pointing to the culprit. It became the most well-known secret at their high school. And Lee Jihoon became somewhat of a living legend because of it.

The only one who knew the truth was you. His best friend. You were his go-to when it came to proof reading all of his letters. He was the writer, you were the editor. Half the time you were also a berating parent, chastising him for trying to assault people with words. Which was also why, more often than not, his letters never got sent. He would sit in his room for hours, writing letters that were either half the length of novels or only a few sentences long, and after giving it over to be edited, it would get tucked away in his desk drawer. Never to be seen or heard from again.

See, Jihoon was an emotional person. Not in the sense that most people would assume, he didn’t get offended easily, one mean comment wouldn’t leave him crying, he was simply—emotional. Whatever he was feeling, whether it be good or bad, it was powerful, sometimes overwhelming. So instead of erupting like a hormonal volcano, which he had already done plenty of, he put his emotions to paper. At the behest of his aforementioned best friend.

“You can’t go around yelling at people.” You began one afternoon just after entering high school. “Even if you’re writing it down, you’re still yelling at people.”

Jihoon, the definition of “hard to read”, was visibly pouting. “You’re the one who told me to write down how I feel. Now I can’t even send these to anyone?”

“I mean, you can.” You backpedalled. “I’m not your mother, despite Seokmin’s insistence. I can’t stop you from doing anything you’ve set your heart to. All I can do is advise you not to because you’re going to have a terrible few years here if everyone hates you.”

He clearly wasn’t thrilled by your logical response, but he admitted defeat anyway. “Fine. Don’t send the letters that I write. I get it. No one wants to read them.”

You groaned loudly. “You are so dramatic. I’m saying don’t send the literal hate mail to people. Don’t send the stuff you write to vent out your feelings. But if there’s something you want to say to someone, something that you can’t bring yourself to say out loud, by all means! Send the thing! I know you loathe the idea of talking to people, you also hate being misunderstood more.”

He also hated how well you knew him, not that he would ever say that out loud.

That was also something he wrote down in a letter, one he decided to send.

You crumpled it up immediately and threw it back at his face.

“Letters are powerful things, Jihoon.” You added. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives with nothing more than words. Because words mean so many different things to so many different people. You just gotta say the right ones.”

At first, he was only humoring you. Honestly, he thought you completely senile until he gave it a shot. After spending hours hunched over his desk writing things no one else would see, he was starting to realize that maybe you had a point. Instead of roaming the halls shouting obscenities in his head, he was able to reassure himself by knowing he could write about it later. Even the smallest grievance, he would write it down. He would sometimes scribble it down on the margin of a textbook if he was feeling particularly overwhelmed in the middle of the day.

The letters became his therapy, his outlet, eventually he could stroll past some annoying upperclassmen and not feel rage coursing through his veins. It was—nice, almost. Not being subjected to his own hectic imagination at every turn. Feeling at peace for the first time in what felt like ages.

Until he found a letter in his locker, one addressed to him during his senior year. From a secret admirer. The contents of which would be seared into his memory for the remainder of time.

Lee Jihoon, it began.

I have never been able to tell you how I feel, in person or in a letter. For several months now, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to write letters like you for so long, and I just can’t get the words right. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m going to do something different. I’m going to stop being scared. If you meet me in the courtyard after school, I’m going to be brave for the first time in my life. Please help me be brave, Jihoon.

Again and again, he read that short letter. Practically baffled that someone out there wrote an honest-to-god letter that was addressed to an honest-to-god person. And that he wasn’t the writer, that he was the recipient. The thought alone made his heart race, and to comprehend that this secret admirer perhaps harbored feelings towards him? It was next to impossible. But no one writes a letter without true emotion behind it. That’s a fact he was coming to understand.

“I need you to come with me.” He told you after showing you the letter. “I’m—I’m not sure I can do this alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jihoon, obviously this person doesn’t want to make a public event out of their confession. You should really do this without me.”

“I know, and I’m not asking you to stand at my side or anything.” He reiterated. “Can you like—stand in a bush or something? If I know that you’re there I won’t feel the need to—"

“Did you just ask me to stand in a bush?” You guffawed. “You did not just ask me to stand in a bush Lee Jihoon because if you did then you’re about to get your ass kicked into next year!”

“I didn’t mean literally!” He quickly denied when he did, in fact, mean it literally. “Just—stand around the corner, okay? Be my moral support!”

Pursing your lips, you knew that there was no getting out of this. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But I’m not happy about it.”

“I’ll pay you back, I promise.” He swore. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

A smirk teased at your lips. “You could mention it more.”

“Consider it done.” Jihoon grinned, gathering up his things and heading for the door. “Don’t forget! After school! Courtyard! Don’t be late!”

Once he was gone and you were completely alone, your face fell in disappointment. “I wouldn’t dream of it…”

By the time that school was finally over for the day, Jihoon was a bundle of overactive nerves. He was excited and terrified and anxious and nauseous all at once. The bombarding sensations kept him cemented in place, gripping the edge of his desk until his knuckles were about to burst through. He had been like that for the entirety of their last class, still as a statue as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. You were standing in front of him, head tilted and wondering what he was planning to do next.

“Class is over.” You reminded him. “Everyone’s left.”

Very slowly, he nodded. “Y-yeah. I can see that.”

His voice sounded as if it had been completely stripped down. Like he had screamed himself hoarse by saying those few words.

“Your secret admirer is probably waiting.” You tried to spur him. “We should get going before I change my mind and head home.”

He audibly swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Well—maybe that’s best. Yeah, I can wait until tomorrow.”

You eyed him incredulously. “You’re going to stay here until tomorrow. You’re insane, get up.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And I’d rather not grow old and die here.” You countered. “C’mon, Jihoon. Your admirer asked you to help them be brave, how exactly is this helping them?”

He had to admit, you had a point. If they were brave enough to put their feelings out there, he had to at least meet them half way.

Sighing loudly, he started to pry his fingers off his desk. “Alright, fine. We’ll do things your way.”

You rolled your eyes for perhaps the hundredth time. “You’re absolutely insufferable. Why do I hang out with you?”

“Because I’m funny.” He said with the most serious face in the world.

Which actually made you laugh.

“I hate you.” You chuckled. “C’mon, let’s get going while we’re still young.”

Jihoon inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm himself down.

This is just the beginning.

Except—it wasn’t.

He stood in the courtyard, seemingly alone, with the note that brought him there clutched tight in his hand. As his moral support you were keeping your distance, as promised, but no one else joined you. Minutes passed and he did his best to remain hopeful. It was hard, especially when a familiar voice nagged at the back of his mind. The same one he struggled with every day to ignore.

No one would ever like you, so why did you bother thinking otherwise?

While the negative thoughts slowly took over, Jihoon didn’t know what to do next. He was defeated, almost destroyed. And even though you walked up behind him and took his hand in yours, it did little to stop the bitter tears from welling in his eyes.

“I should’ve known…” He whispered angrily. “This was all just—a joke. It’s always a joke. Who could ever like me?”

“Stop it, Jihoon.” You hissed at him, squeezing his hand tighter. “They said they were scared, maybe they couldn’t follow through with it. Maybe they were afraid of being rejected. You never know what’s going through someone’s head. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

Nothing you said was going to make him feel better. He quickly wrenched himself from your grip and backed away from you.

“I’m going home.” He clipped. “Bye.”

Before he left, he made sure to crumple up the note and toss it at your feet. When his heart was broken, he wore it on his sleeve. You understood what Jihoon was feeling, he had been living with an extremely low self esteem due to his height and his general inability to make friends for as long as you knew him. He was quiet, shy, reserved, he was slow to open up to others and hesitant to trust. That’s why you tried to be excited for him, and now that things hadn’t gone as planned in more ways than one your heart ached just like his.

The next day, Jihoon strolled into class like a drunk zombie. By the looks of him, he hadn’t slept a wink. Too busy being destroyed by his own thoughts to bother with anything like sustenance or sleep. He took up his seat beside you, and you immediately shoved your desk into his.

“Still upset?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

Sluggishly he lifted his head up and then quickly dropped it back down.

It was worse than you thought.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” You teased in an attempt to get a reaction. “Or am I going to have to go bother Hansol?”

Grumbling slightly, the barely responsive mass that was your best friend raised his hand and dropped a crumpled wad of paper on your desk. At first, you assumed it was just another one of his letters. They weren’t uncommon when he was feeling—unwell.

But it was another note from his secret admirer.

You were startled because he didn’t usually stop at his locker in the morning.

Lee Jihoon, it started similarly.

I’m sorry for not showing up yesterday, I was scared. I couldn’t bring myself to face you, please don’t be mad at me. I’d like to keep writing you letters, if that’s okay. Let’s get to know each other and maybe one day I can be brave again.

Once you were finished reading, you immediately began analyzing Jihoon’s face again. You had never seen him look like this before, completely vacant. While he was hard to read to the entire world, he was always an open book to you. Now reading him was nearly impossible even with your expertise.

“What are you gonna do?”

He shrugged lazily. “I don’t know. Sit here for the rest of eternity. Wait for the soft embrace of death.”

“Jihoon.” You exasperated. “We both know you’re not actually going to do that.”

Except he actually might and you actually couldn’t take that chance.

“Are you going to write them a letter?” You tried, again. “Maybe that will work out better.”

“I already did.” He murmured. “I don’t think they want to read it though.”

“Jesus Christ…” You groaned loudly, taking Jihoon’s face in your hands and looking him dead in his lifeless eyes. “They still like you, they’re scared and human like the rest of us, it is not the end of the world! Give them another chance and stop being such a goddamn drama queen!”

Silence. Pure unadulterated and perfectly aggravating silence.

“Alright, you leave me no choice. I’m bringing out the big guns.”

Being careful to keep an eye on the teacher, you pulled out your phone and started texting Jihoon’s mother. According to your message, you and Jihoon were going to be studying late at the library, and he would probably need to spend the night at your house. Which wasn’t a complete lie, maybe you would get some studying done. But, in all honesty, you had other things in mind.

“Take your pick.” You instructed, a box set in each hand. “Descendants of the Sun, or Record of Youth.”

Immediately after school, you dragged your best friend to your house and sat him down in front of the TV. Your parents didn’t even question it when you told them this intervention was a matter of life and death, that the patient might need to be admitted for the night. They simply let you do what needed to be done.

Jihoon, who had been relatively catatonic for the past 24 hours, finally showed a glimmer of something. He gave the slightest suggestion of a nod towards Descendants of the Sun and you happily popped in the first disk. As you claimed a spot beside him, popcorn and banana milk in tow, he naturally relaxed against you. You were the only person who got to see him unguarded like that, the only person he himself would allow. And while he was typically someone who kept his true self hidden from the world, there was a part of him that would forever belong only to you.

“Thanks.” He practically whispered, resting his head on your shoulder. “I—I needed this.”

“I know.” You smiled. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

He sighed heavily. “No. Not really. I still have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Well, if you need help thinking you know where I’ll be.” You offered without wanting to seem pushy.

If you weren’t mistaken, you could’ve sworn he actually chuckled.

“Yeah. I do.”

Little by little, your best friend was slowly returning to normal—or as close to normal as you’ve ever seen him. Eventually he started getting sucked into the drama, going rigid when things got tense, and actively pretended he wasn’t crying whenever You Are My Everything played. It was, overall, a job well done. You could sleep easy knowing that Jihoon would be just fine. As you drifted off, you felt him hold your hand and squeeze it gently.

Everything was going to be okay.

And if only to prove that point, the next day was nothing like the one before. Jihoon was back to his old self as if nothing had happened at all. Just another Thursday without a word or whisper about the chaotic tornado his secret admirer had unleashed onto your day-to-day life. He even had a letter for you to read by the time lunch rolled around. Apparently, some freshman irritated him over something seemingly small. At least—to you it seemed barely worth mentioning. But nothing ever really felt small to Jihoon. It was all or nothing, always living in black and white. Which meant that almost everything was important to him in some way. So you read the letter, and you edited it gladly.

Once you were done, he had something else for you. Another note from the admirer.

“This is the third one, right?” You murmured, glancing it over once before looking up at him. “Have you written back yet? Besides the one where I assumed you insulted their very existence with your entire arsenal of hurtful words.”

The blush crawling up his neck was an answer in and of itself, but the thick stack of paper he pulled out of his backpack solidified it.

“I’ve tried a few times.” He admitted hesitantly. “Nothing I write is good enough.”

“Oh, only a few times?” You teased, knowing full well that Jihoon’s definition of a few was the same as calling Jane Eyre a short shopping list. “What’s got you so stuck? Usually you have no issues penning essays over trivial things like cracks in the sidewalk.”

His brow furrowed defiantly. “Hey, proper sidewalk and road maintenance is important to modern infrastructure. If we start overlooking cracks in the pavement, then what? What about traffic lights? Can we afford to allow a single bulb to go out? No, of course not. That’s anarchy.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Jihoon…” You started with an exasperated look. “I was joking.”

Trying to hide the fact that his blush was turning a deep crimson, and failing quite miserably, he pulled a paper from the stack and put it back in his bag. Also something he tried, and failed, to hide from you.

“Are you kidding me!” You laughed, raking a hand down your face. “Did you seriously have a letter in that pile you were going to send to our congressman?”

“No—yes—ugh!” He groaned. “Can we forget about the stupid sidewalk for a second! That’s not important right now! Help me! How do I do this?”

Deciding you had teased your best friend enough, you placed your chin in your hand and smiled at him. “How do you do what, exactly? I’ve never had anything to do with the letters you write, I just read them so someone knows how you’re feeling.”

Who were you kidding, you could never tease Jihoon enough.

He rolled his eyes so hard that he rolled his whole head with them. “Like you’ve ever needed further insight into my head, you always know what I’m thinking before I do.”

True.

“But I don’t understand the first thing about—this.” He finished with a labored sigh, gesturing sharply to the handwritten novel in front of him. “You know that better than anyone.”

Again, he was telling the truth. In the years you had known Jihoon he had never developed serious feelings towards someone else. He had barely entertained the notion since entering high school. He always talked himself out of it because feelings were complicated and bothersome. Plus, he was terrified of being rejected. Like most people are. His intrusive thoughts just so happened to be louder than most.

“I hate to break it to you, Jihoon,” You started in a whisper, “no one knows the first thing about this. Not even me. The only person who can help you is yourself.”

His sour expression made it obvious that he obviously didn’t like your response. “Great. Super helpful. Thank you for your continued wisdom.”

When he moved away from you, you grabbed him by the sweater and pulled him back in. “Why do you always stop listening to me when I’m about to make my point?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Because it takes you forever to fucking get there.”

“Alright, you got me there.” You chuckled. “Listen, I’m not kidding when I say that you’ve got to do this one on your own. As much as I can usually sense what feelings are doing somersaults in your stomach, this is a first for you and therefore a first for me. I’ve never seen you like this before, so unfortunately you’ve got to discover this one on your own.”

As you spoke, his features slowly softened until all that remained was a very nervous teenager who didn’t want to screw up his first real chance at love. That’s all Jihoon was at his core, that’s all anyone was.

But you had to admit he almost looked kind of cute.

Almost.

“How do you always know what to say?” He grumbled while crossing his arms. “It’s annoying.”

“You’ve got a really weird way of saying thank you.” You smirked playfully. “Well, maybe this last nugget of advice will get you started in the right direction.”

“Why are you always—” He seethed through his teeth. “How are you still not at whatever your point is!”

You shrugged, because you honestly had no clue. “I'll get there when I get there. You want to hear it or not—”

“Spit. It. Out.”

“Now is that anyway to—”

Wow. You stopped, suddenly fearing for your measly life. If looks could kill—

“Alright, alright, you win.” You conceded. “If you’re having issues writing a letter to your secret admirer, here’s my advice. Stop trying to put words to your feelings and start putting feelings into words. You’re spending too much time trying to say it perfectly that you’re not saying it at all. It doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else, it doesn’t even need to make sense to you. So long as you put them out into the world, they’ll be heard and one day they’ll be understood. You get me?”

The look on his face was—strange. You had a hard time placing it, which should’ve been weirder than it was. In fact, you were seeing lots of different sides to Jihoon lately, sides you never thought existed. This time his eyes widened, the aforementioned scarlet blush had disappeared, and there was a radiance to him that you had never seen before. Like suddenly he could see clearly through the storm of his thoughts.

“Thank you.” He exhaled with a smile. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

Feeling triumphant, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m starting to wonder what you’d do without me, Jihoon. Three days and you’ve been completely undone and redone by this letter.”

“Letters are powerful things.” He muttered. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives. You taught me that.”

“I guess I’m a pretty good teacher.” You boasted, giving him a squeeze. “Despite the fact that I’m actually quite terrible with words.”

He shrugged off your arm. “Except you always know what to say, how exactly does that work?”

“Just because I can make you see reason doesn’t mean I’m good with words.” You laughed easily. “That simply means that I’ve perfected the art of understanding the impossible. Lee Jihoon. I can’t use words like you do. Trust me I’ve tried, I can never get the words right.”

For a moment, he didn’t have any sort of response. Which was definitely weird. It was a well-known fact that he was terrible with the sorts of words he had to speak, but he didn’t have issues when talking to you. That’s because you were friends, best friends. There had never been this sort of unnerving silence before. Not that you could remember, anyway.

What is going on in your head, Jihoon? You found yourself wondering since you couldn’t read his face. Have you started to figure it out?

“Sorry, I was thinking.” He muttered suddenly, shaking his head. “But I know what I need to write now. Will you read this one too? Even if it gets pretty long?”

“Of course!” You exclaimed with a smile. “When have I ever shied away from a challenge?”

The soft glisten in his eyes made your heart flutter.

“Never.”

When the bell rang and you parted ways, you wondered if Jihoon had ever written you a letter.

Well there’s a first time for everything.

For the next week, he was in full writer mode. And there were no more notes from his secret admirer, not that you expected there to be any. Every chance he got he was scribbling something down on whatever surface he could get his hands on. Textbooks, paper, his arm, he was more inspired than you’d ever seen before and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t even come over to your house over the weekend, a ritual you hadn’t broken in the ten plus years you had known each other. It was a lonely week, for sure, but you knew it was for a good cause.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, he approached you in the courtyard with a single sheet of paper in his hand.

“Hey…” He started uneasily, his grip tightening. “How’re you?”

Seriously? You mused to yourself with a smile. “I’m good, how’s the writing?”

“Done.” He clipped. “And—I think I covered everything.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, eyeing the sheet of paper. “With all of that writing I thought you’d have a novel for me.”

He shook his head, while a blush crawled up his neck. “Sometimes being concise is more effective than being overly wordy.”

“That’s true.” You grinned. “Easier for me to edit anyway.”

Nodding, he shoved the paper into your hand. “Here. Take your time, I don’t want you to rush it.”

“I won’t.” You promised, resisting the urge to start reading right away. “I know you put a lot of thought into this.”

With that, he turned around and walked off without another word. Leaving you holding something that looked like little more than pen ink on paper, but felt like a confession on fire. Once he was out of eyesight, you exhaled a breath you had been holding unintentionally and started reading.

To the person I have never loved before. It began, and you weren’t prepared for the roller coaster you had willingly climbed into.

This isn’t for the person I’ve loved all along, no. This is for you, someone who managed to stir my emotions more than a raging monsoon with only a few words and the hint of a promise. Who are you? I wondered to myself, because you were without equal. How could I have missed you? You were extraordinary. You didn’t have a face, all I had of you was a letter slipped into my locker, you were a ghost and I was set ablaze by your words. I had never felt like that before, my heart was unprepared. As was I. You made me question everything, and made me realize things I had never seen before.

What I felt for you wasn’t love, even though I thought it was at first. You presented me with feelings I decided I would never feel, so I could only assume that it was love. I felt like a live wire, ready to spark at a moment's notice. All I could think about was you. The infinite options and scenarios I dreamt up, all because of you, was astronomical. It was exhilarating, and I found myself drunk on the endless possibilities that you presented me. What else could make me feel that way, if it wasn’t love?

The answer was one I didn’t expect, and it hit me like a tsunami. I started to feel that way towards someone I already know. Someone who has cared for me more than anyone should, they have been my best friend for years so how could I suddenly feel the same way? How could my friendship for them become intertwined with the love I thought was solely reserved for you? And how could I have missed it after being enveloped by their warmth for so long?

You changed all of that. You made me see clearly for the first time in years and I was completely undone. Everything I knew was suddenly challenged, my feelings towards the most important person in my life changed without any warning, and I didn’t know what to do. How could I ask them, a friend, to see me as anything more? I was lost, trapped in an endless loop of destructive thoughts and desire. Desperately wanting to scream my feelings from the rooftop while fearing the voice that would have to put words to them. Your feelings for me awakened my feelings for them, and suddenly the words that have given me comfort for so long escaped me.

Still, you helped me.

In ways I can only thank with this letter.

You helped me because you are the one who told me to start writing letters. It’s always been you. You are the one who has given my thoughts meaning when I struggled to communicate with the world. One that could never understand someone like me. You are the one who wrote me a letter, asking a coward to help you be brave. It took me a while to realize that you were one and the same, but I picked up on the hints you left behind. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out.

Would you have showed up had I not asked you to come with me? I think about that often, were you only afraid because my initial thought was that there was no way it could be you? The impossible notion that my best friend could love me anymore than they already do? I have a thousand more questions I want to ask you, but I think I’m brave enough now to ask you in person.

So I’m going to end this letter here, because you deserve so much more than the words I’ve hidden behind for years. A letter I started to write for someone I thought I didn’t know, to the person I’ve never loved before. Funny, how it ended up being a letter to the person I’ve loved all along.

As you read the last line, tears already streaming down your face, you had never felt happier.

“You figured it out.” You whispered, almost in disbelief. “For a second there I thought you never would.”

You don’t know when Jihoon came back, but he was suddenly standing in front of you taking your hand in his. “It really shouldn’t have taken me that long, I’ve only seen your handwriting a thousand times before.”

Laughter bubbled past your lips as you dried your tears with your sleeve. “I was terrified that you would’ve figured me out from the very beginning. Looks like I really give you too much credit sometimes.”

“You do.” He agreed. “So, what did you think of the letter? Any edits you can think of?”

“This isn’t the type of letter that needs editing.” You stated plainly. “It would take away from the author’s meaning.”

“What would that be?” He asked, clearly teasing you. “Enlighten me.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No, no way. It’s your letter, why don’t you tell me what it’s supposed to mean?”

Part of him didn’t want to make it easy, that much you knew with absolute certainty. But, for the sake of time and your poor heart, he would let you off the hook. Just this once.

“That I love you.” He said softly. “More than anything else.”

Choking out a sob, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close.

“I love you too, Jihoon.”

In the end, neither of you were good with words, but you only needed to know what to say to each other.

[arts-and-drafts]

Nightmare (Hermit Tommy AU)

TW: Graphic description of injury and death, suicide mention, severe PTSD

(Hey folks! This one has been in the draft bucket for a while and I'm never going to stop fiddling with it, so I'm posting it now before I regret it. I'm not happy with the "final" product but it'll never get posted if I keep messing with it. Seriously, mind the TWs!! Otherwise, enjoy)

-

Tommy smells gunpowder.

He's standing in a crater, everything he's ever fought for blown to pieces in front of his eyes by the one he called once called brother.

He sees his father for the first time in 7 years, and his sword is dripping with Wilbur's blood.

He sees Technoblade from above, and at a motion of his hand and a scathing cry of "hero" from his lips, withers descend upon the smoking chasm that used to be Tommy's home.

Tommy looks down to see Tubbo in his arms, a hole blown clean through his best friend's chest. He is still and cold, and Tommy is numb.

Tubbo's corpse rises from his arms like a marionette on strings, sharp ram horns dripping crimson curving over his face. His eyes are open now, and they stare cruelly into Tommy's very soul.

"Selfish." Tubbo's corpse whispers in a raspy voice, torn to shreds from screams. Tommy can only watch in paralyzed horror as Tubbo procures a compass, Tommy's compass, and crushes it to dust in front of him.

Tommy's knees buckle, and he's falling, falling, falling off a tower made from his own hands that stretches to build height. Tommy's vision floods white with pain as his fall ends in a pit of lava, molten netherrack filling his lungs and burning him from the inside out.

A hand clasps his as he reaches for the surface, and he's pulled out of the lava lake by a figure with a smiling mask. Tommy winces as he feels a sharp pain in his abdomen, and looks down to see an arrow's tail sprouting from his flesh.

Tommy looks up, and Dream is ten paces across from him on the Prime Path, bow still raised from the fatal shot. As Tommy falls into the river, his disks spin wildly above him, caught by Dream's gloved hand out of midair.

Tommy's back hits the stone edge of the Pit, and he drops to the floor from a blow Techno landed that knocked him to his knees.

"You killed him," Tommy says desperately, choking as his own blood fills his mouth, rage and grief burning like fire through his veins.

"It stays in the pit." Techno replies coldly, and when Tommy looks up through hazing vision he sees the head of a rocket aimed right between his eyes.

Tommy jolts awake as soon as Techno pulls the trigger, disoriented and screaming. His arms are pinned, he can't escape, why can't he get out, help help help-

"--ommy! Wake up! Tommy!!" Joe's voice becomes clear, and Tommy's vision finally clears enough from his memories to see the poet's face, terrified and pale. Tommy stops screaming, though his trembling limbs and heaving chest are out of his control.

"Tommy, focus on me, look at me, okay? I'm here, I'm right here, it was a dream, it's not real, it's not real--" Joe's assurances tumble from panicked lips, shushing and comforting as best he can. Tommy blinks several times, his mind struggling to adjust to the waking realm as adrenaline continues to ravage his body.

"Hey, hey, that's it, I'm here," Joe says, and Tommy feels the man's delicate hand lightly slap his face. "Come back, Tom, it's not real, you're okay--"

Tommy gasps as if by command, and finally feels air fill his lungs. "There you go, there you go--" Joe says encouragingly, wiping Tommy's face of tears as his body's convulsing lessens. "Shh, shh--you're okay, you're safe. Come back, kid."

"Tubbo--" Tommy chokes, his mind still foggy with confusion and fear. "No," Joe says gently. "Joe Hills. You're in Hermitcraft, bud. Come back."

Tommy blinks again, and Joe can feel the tension ease in the boy's rigid limbs by a fraction.

"What--what--" Tommy whispers hoarsely, his senses gradually returning to him. His shirt is stuck to his back from being soaked in sweat, yet his skin feels cold and clammy. He blinks several times, his eyes adjusting to the dark of Joe's doghouse-turned-cabin.

"You were having a nightmare," Joe murmurs softly, and Tommy realizes the poet is rubbing soothing circles into Tommy's hand with his thumb. "It...it was a rough one, huh."

It's more of a comment than a question, but Tommy shakily nods anyways. He notices Joe seems like there's a weight on his shoulders that's crushing his posture.

"I couldn't wake you," Joe says, and he runs a tired hand through his hair as he settles to sit on the foot of Tommy's bed.

An apology sticks in Tommy's throat. He's learned to be better at that sort of thing since he came here, but Joe didn't seem to be expecting one. Tommy swallows the words and tries to focus on his breathing.

"I didn't want to bring it up," Joe says, and he doesn't look at Tommy. "I know you like your privacy, and I didn't want to pry, but...this is getting out of hand, bud." Joe's voice softens in weariness at the last of the sentence. Tommy unconsciously tenses.

"Who is Tubbo?"

Joe finally looks up with piercing blue eyes, and Tommy forgets how to breathe.

"Did they hurt you?" Joe asks, his tone gentle but demanding. "You've gotta talk about it, Tom, or the nightmares are never going to stop."

Tommy violently shakes his head until it hurts, putting his hands up. "No, no--he didn't, he--" Tommy's chest heaves with memories that rip open the scars of his heart, fresh tears slipping down his soaked cheeks.

Did he hurt him?

Tubbo exiled him. Tubbo damned him to a life 1000 blocks away that wasn't worth living. Tubbo didn't ever visit, Tubbo didn't care, Tubbo never came, even when he knew Tommy needed him.

No--no, no. He was--IS, he IS his best friend, Tubbo is his right hand man, he loves him, he'd never do that on purpose, he'd never put an empty hole of a nation above him--

But he did.

Joe sits patiently beside Tommy as he bitterly cries, keeping a hand on his back all the while. Tommy did better if he had physical contact, picked up from his past that Joe didn't know and didn't ask about.

Tommy's sobs gradually quieted. He barely notices he's leaning against Joe now, and the hermit has his arm over him in a sort of half hug. It's an act of compassion that Tommy takes for pity, but for once he doesn't care.

"...he did." Tommy croaks after what feels like an eternity. "But--h-he didn't--....i-it's complicated." The boy took a shuddering breath and closes his eyes.

"I miss him." He cries, his voice small and broken. "I miss him so fucking much, Joe," Tommy bites his tongue to suppress another pitiful sob. "H--He was my right hand man..."

Joe's chest rumbles with a sympathetic noise against Tommy's cheek. "It's...it's natural to miss what was. Letting go of the past is something that many never accomplish in their life." The poet comments solemnly.

Tommy squeezes his eyes shut tight and buries his face into Joe's shirt, a sob sticking behind a lump in his throat that refused to dissipate. Joe pulls him closer, and lets him shake in his arms.

"...It's hard to forgive. I've been there, kiddo. It's hard." Joe murmurs, and he leans his cheek against the top of Tommy's head.

The boy tenses when the hermit's hand moves to run through his hair, and his host stops abruptly at the movement.

"It's--it's okay." Tommy whispers, near imperceptibly, allowing himself this one moment of complete vulnerability when he needed it most.

Joe continued, hesitantly, but as soon as he touches Tommy's hair the kid melts into him. A look of pure serenity crosses the poor boy's face, and though it was sans a smile, he looked more at peace than Joe had ever seen him in his 7 months with them.

His expression soon fell into nothingness, and small snores filled the quiet air as Tommy went out like a light. Joe watches in slow realization as Tommy didn't twitch or whimper or cry as he usually did upon leaving consciousness; he was finally still and calm as he deserved to be in rest.

Joe presses his mouth into a thin line as he continues to run his soft fingers through the kid's yellow hair. Whatever happened to Tommy, it was worse than the poet could even comprehend, and that fact made bile rise in his throat.

Joe was not a vengeful man. His philosophy was that everything happened for a reason, that any cruel injustice that befell him or his friends was the cause of some greater force's plan far beyond his control.

Yet, how years of war and bloodshed and betrayal was a deserving fate for a child, Joe could not understand or excuse.

He believed that the passage of events was out of his control and part of a bigger design. But he also believed in free will, and if he had anything to do with how his story was written, he would ensure that this little boy who was so broken by the world he came from would get the life he should've had from the beginning.

Joe presses a light kiss to the boy's temple before slowly standing, lifting Tommy in his arms and setting him down on his bed.

"I promise you'll have it better here, kiddo." Joe whispers softly, settling the old blanket back over the sleeping boy. "I'll give you a good life if it kills me."

END.

[strangeinternetwasteland]

Hopeless Devotion- Sasuke X GN Reader 18+

A/N: This is my first submission for the @konoblog-simps day 3 server collab. Doesn’t follow any part of the anime. This takes place after Shippuden, but before, Boruto.

Warnings: Sex implied, giving oral, alcohol

WC: 867

In the morning light, he looked so soft and vulnerable. He was perfect right now. The angry storm of his emotions last night was not evident on his sleeping face. You didn’t dare move in fear of waking him. He had come home in a fit of rage, that even you were unable to quell. You tried your best to not anger him anymore, but your presence seems to have made everything worse.

You went to bed alone last night. You woke up with him cuddling you. Looking at his dark hair contrasting his pale skin made your insides coil. He looked perfect in the early morning light. You placed kisses along his stomach and chest. He stirred momentarily and fell back asleep. You placed a few kisses on his cheek and got up for the day.

As you made your way to the kitchen, you thought about the terrible words he’d told you last night in his drunken stupor. He didn’t mean what he had said, you told yourself, but you knew that those thoughts weighed on his mind for a long time. You pulled out a few ingredients to start breakfast when a pair of arms wrapped around you, followed by a kiss at the nape of your neck.

“Good Morning.” A groggy voice croaked behind you. You stood where you were in front of the stovetop to begin breakfast. It was a rare sight to see him looking so pleasant in the morning, that for a brief second you believed you were dreaming.

“Morning.” You said back to him as you started up the coffee and got the pan ready for breakfast. He held you tight for another moment and then let you go. As he sat down while you prepared breakfast it was evident that your boyfriend wanted to talk.

“About last night…” He began. You didn’t want to talk about it. You could pretend that he didn’t mean the words he said. It was easier for you to just pretend last night never happened. You knew where it would lead. It wasn’t the first time it happened, and it had ended terribly then. You two were getting along and everything was going well, until last night.

“ Are we going to do this again?” You asked him with anger in your voice. The sizzle of butter on the pan fueling your rage inside.

“No.” He shook his head saying the word trying to tread lightly. “I am sorry about last night.” You rolled your eyes, knowing how this was going to go. When he came to you asking for your forgiveness, you believed him. You thought he’d actually try harder this time, but once again alcohol had taken over and his lips were loose.

“I said some terrible things last night while drunk. I have no excuse for that. Seeing you talking to others, looking happy.” He huffed. “I don’t know. When we broke up the first time, I was okay at first, but after a few weeks apart…” He trailed off. You knew how stubborn he truly was. You finished breakfast without much more conversation. You placed a plate before him and ate in silence. You quickly stood up and started cleaning the mess from breakfast. He got up a few minutes after you. As you washed dishes, he put his head on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to be without you again.” He mumbled into your shoulder as he kissed your shoulder to your neck. You turned to face him. Your face was unreadable to him.

“What exactly do you want?” You questioned him. You were angry. You tried to hide it as best you could.

“I want you.” He told you as he leaned in for a kiss, and pulled you in closer. “I know you’re angry at me. Rightly so, but I meant it when I say I want you.” He kissed you again, this time deeper as his tongue entwined with yours, you pushed him against the closest wall. His hands were all over your body. Whenever he told you that he wanted you, something inside of you screamed. You wanted any part of him you could get inside you. As you scrambled to get his pants off, you got on your knees. You couldn’t deny the hardened length before you. As you took him in your mouth, he grabbed your hair and started pulling. You moaned as you started sucking and licking the length of him.

“God, you feel so good.” He moaned, leaning his head back against the wall. He took your head and pushed himself deeper inside your throat. Tears formed in your eyes, but you weren’t about to stop. As fucked up as it was, you knew you loved him. After a few more moments of him throat fucking you, you felt thick ropes coating your throat. He was out of breath but wore a small smile.

“Let me take care of you, and show you how much I love you.” He said hoarsely into your ear.

“Sasuke-” he stopped you with another passionate kiss. He grabbed your hand and took you into the bedroom. You weren’t going to stop him, not now anyway.

[hellotvshowtrash]

Obey pt. 9

A/N: well, this is it! This is the last part of Obey. I think I’m more nervous about this last part than I have been about any other part, just because I want this to be good. This has been a crazy ride and I’m so glad you’ve all been here for it. Thank you for all your support ❤️ huge thank you to @njeancastro316 for starting this whole thing. Thank you for trusting me with your idea!

Huge huge huge shoutout to @elijahs-wife for the fucking awesome mood board she made for this series. Thank your unending support ❤️

Let’s do this!

Word count: 2k

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ Choking, blood, mentions of death and torture, a happy ending.

((God how ridiculously cool is this moodboard))

Five months had passed since the Mystic Falls incident. In the weeks after, Elijah had helped Y/N cope with the hell of being kidnapped, hunted and subsequently murdered by her ex husband, then, helping her cope with the bonus stress of transitioning and then killing said ex husband. The relief she felt the night it all happened lasted only for that night, as it was followed by guilt and sorrow and rage, emotions she was all too familiar with but not on the level she felt it at as a vampire. Elijah was there for her every step of the way, never leaving her side. Around month two, she had begun to even out and come to terms with what had happened. At month three, she was able to return to work, now having her hunger under control and her emotions in check.

In her recovery, the summer heat had melted away, being replaced by the warm tones of autumn, which were short lived. December rolled around and the New Orleans Christmas decorations came alive. Y/N was glowing. Her walls had begun to fall away and she was showing new bits and pieces of herself every day. Elijah watched as she grew confident in ways that may have been considered small, but it made her so much more special to him. She cared about her job more than ever, her coworkers included. She had begun friendships with fellow nurses and worked harder than she ever had before. Sophie had seen her less and less as Y/N had learned to live and love her life, uninhibited.

She sat comfortably in her cozy apartment, for once bothering to make it feel like home rather than cold, and she actually wanted to spend time in her own space. There was no threat to her safety in her own home anymore. No denying herself the feeling of warmth and happiness. Her thoughts wandered to how she had changed as a vampire, and she dwelled on how she had spent her time as a human. She decided that she was ultimately the better version of herself this way. A knock on her front door startled her from her thoughts. She turned her head in the direction of the door and stood, wrapping her arms around herself as she opened the door. Elijah stood on the other side, looking at her expectantly. She stood aside and beckoned him in.

"Good evening, darling." He smiled, bending to kiss her cheek. She grinned at him and closed the door behind him. "Are you ready?" He asked, looking around the room. Y/N’s grin switched to a grimace.

"Actually, I... thought maybe we could spend the weekend here. At my place." She said sheepishly. She had made the comment to him that she missed the snow every winter. She hadn't seen it in about seven years. He arranged a stay for them at a cottage in upstate New York for the weekend, an early Christmas gift to her. "Could we maybe do the cottage another weekend? I'm just finally enjoying my own home, for once." She looked around the space and smiled happily. She turned back to look at him for his reaction and found him grinning at her. "What?" She asked.

"Of course we can stay here. I adore seeing you this content. I'd do anything to keep you this way." He took a step toward her and wrapped his arms around her, planting a kiss atop her head as he hugged her. She closed her eyes and hummed merrily as she wrapped her arms around his torso. He pulled away slightly and lifted her chin to look up at him. "I'm quite proud of the progress you've made, Y/N." He praised. She blushed at him and tried to avert her eyes, but he kept her locked in his gaze. "You're truly remarkable." He whispered, leaning down to close the gap between them. He kissed her softly, his lips grazing hers. She closed her eyes in bliss. She let herself get carried away, deepening the kiss and nibbling at his bottom lip. He smiled and chuckled into the kiss. He gave her a quick squeeze before pulling away and turning to face the room.

"Elijah?" She grabbed ahold of him, her hands grasping onto the sleeve of his jacket. She tugged and fumbled but managed to pull him back to her, her hands reaching to cup his face. "I'm sorry, I just -," she kissed him again hastily, toying with the buttons on his suit jacket. "I'm still getting used to the whole -," her lips were on his again breathlessly, his hands traveling the curves of her body. "Vampire thing," she moved her kisses slowly over to his ear and nibbled on his lobe, lowering down to his neck while nipping and sucking at the skin. She tugged the suit jacket off of him, leaving him in his classic button down dress shirt. He groaned and closed his eyes, a small smile crossing his lips before he bit his lower one.

"Don't apologize, dear." He groaned, "We'll just have to get you accustomed to this lifestyle," he flipped the switch swiftly with his hands on her hips in dominance, pushing her backward into the door behind her. She gasped at the sudden change but welcomed it hungrily. He tugged at the bottom of her shirt and she lifted her arms. He threw the shirt away from them and lowered to his knees, kissing up and down her chest and abdomen, moving slowly down her body. His finger grazed along the top of the waistband on her leggings before he pulled them down and off of her, leaving her completely exposed. She panted and looked down at him. Nothing pleased her more than the sight of him in front of her, working his way down to where she wanted him most.

As if she weighed nothing, he scooped her up by the thighs and placed her legs on his shoulders. He got right to work, sliding his tongue between her folds, her hips twitching at the contact as a satisfied moan escaped her. Her eyes dragged closed as his tongue circled her clit expertly, drinking her in. He hummed as he took in her taste and she moaned at the vibrations sent up her spine. He swirled his tongue over her clit, coaxing her closer to the edge. Her hands found their way to his hair and tangled themselves in it, tugging as she felt a familiar pit in her stomach. His name left her lips in a hiss, "Elijah, I'm close," she whispered. He snaked his hand up to her soaked entrance and plunged a finger in, instantly getting it covered in slick. Her moans began to pick up, his finger working her quickly. She tugged on his hair harder, just on the brink of orgasm when it was pulled away from her and he stopped. Her eyes flew open and she whined, looking down at him as he pulled away. In a flash, he was standing now, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other working the button and zipper of his pants, hastily pulling them off. He used his weight to keep her pinned against the door, legs wide open for him.

Her hand found Elijah's cheek and she caressed it as she looked into his eyes. Hers were hazy and halfway closed as he thrust into her. He eyed her wrist that was mere inches from his mouth. He wanted her to feel the depth of emotion he held for her, and he could only think of one way to convey it to her. With one hand supporting her against the door, the other grabbed her wrist and brought it to his mouth, biting into her. Elijah didn't realize how badly he had wanted to taste her again until that moment, and he wondered how many different ways he could drink her in. He drank from her wrist as he thrust, her breathy moans mixed with the sound of skin on skin. Her eyes widened as she watched him with her wrist on his lips. She hooked her feet behind his waist as he pinned her against the door, his pace quickening still. The door behind them shook from his intensity.

His hips snapped up against hers relentlessly, fucking her in the way she'd been craving. He pulled his lips away from her wrist as it healed itself, his eyes dark and filled with lust. Hers too began to turn black, the veins underneath becoming more prominent. He placed his free hand on the door behind her to stabilize himself, his forearm just beside her face. She threw her head back and cried out his name before turning her head and grasping onto his arm, biting into him. He hissed as she did, pleasure coursing through him. She gasped as she drank, a new feeling of euphoria and closeness washing over her. She pulled away with his blood running over her lips as her orgasm rushed through her, screams of his name reverberating off the apartment walls. His hand moved off of the door behind her and onto her throat, squeezing as she came, her eyes rolling back in her head.

"Elijah..." she whispered hoarsely, his fingers still around her neck. "More," she whined. His eyes shone darkly and he released his grip on her throat, lowering her from the door. She grasped his arms and sped them across the apartment and into her room, pushing him down onto the mattress. He smiled and bared his teeth, eyebrows raised as she climbed atop him. She sank down onto his cock, taking him in entirely. She relished the look on his face as she did so, with his eyes partially closed and his mouth agape. A low moan escaped his lips as she began to bounce. His hands found her hips naturally, helping her keep balance and rhythm. She leaned her torso down, laying on top of him as she rode. She peppered kisses and bites along his chest and neck, drawing her name from his lips. She moved faster, sliding up and down on him with ease.

He growled and pulled her off of him, quickly flipping them around so her back was on the mattress. She squealed as he did so, but it turned into a moan as he plunged into her roughly, not giving her time to adjust. His hand reached for her throat and he squeezed, giving the perfect amount of pleasure. He wasn't going to go easy on her, he was seeking his own satisfaction now. He lifted one of her legs up his torso, resting her ankle on his shoulder and he fucked her senselessly, his pace maddening and sloppy. One hand gripped his forearm above her, the other gripped the sheets beneath her as another orgasm washed over her and he spilled into her. He moaned, his voice raspy as he let the built up tension leave his body. He looked down at Y/N and found her already grinning at him. He pulled out of her and got up to find a towel.

"May I ask why you're so chipper?" He asked her, moving onto the bathroom.

"Vampire sex is awesome," she said enthusiastically. He stared at her through the mirror in the bathroom blankly before breaking out into a laugh.

"Yes, darling. It is 'awesome'," he quoted back to her. Her grin faded into a smile as he walked out of the bathroom and to her side as she laid on the bed. He bent down to clean her up gently. After, he threw the towel into the dirty laundry basket and flopped onto the bed next to her. She looked at him adoringly as he laid his arm out in an invitation. She looked from him to his arm and, still smiling, climbed right up next to him. He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"I'm so proud of you." He whispered.

"I'll never be that me again." She countered confidently. "I can still be my own person even if I'm with you. I am my own fire."

He squeezed his arm around her gently. "I wouldn't have you any other way."

—

Thanks for reading, y’all! See you in the next one. ❤️

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Feel free to send me an ask if you want to be included on my Always taglist!

[mrfeenysmustache]

Of the Wind

Summary: She’d been free, and then she’d been taken. She moved the wind, she made the wind, she was the wind.

Also read on: AO3

——————————-

Once upon a time, humans believed that all things had spirits.

Every tree, every flower, every mountain, every stream and lake and river…

Even the wind.

They were right.

The world teemed with life that most mortal beings would never see, and though some humans the world over continued to revere the invisible Souls of the Earth, many moved their reverence to the gods who made them instead.

But still the souls lingered, thriving in the rushing of water, the branching of tree canopies, the softness of grass, playing and running and laughing and living.

Some were as brief as a spring flower, some eternal as a mountain, but they had their place and played their part, living in perfect harmony, in synch with the ebb and flow of mortal life around them.

They were free.

The freest beings in the universe, free of the conventions of man or the expectations of yokai, they expressed every emotion they had without restraint.

But none so much as the wind.

The wind blew hard or soft or fast or slow, a contingent of happy souls following their currents, writhing together to move the trees, the waves, the seeds, even hair and clothes and leaves and stems.

The wind was sisters, sisters who giggled past ears like a sigh, brushed through hair to admire its softness, tangled together in endless heaps of giggling happiness, unfettered, unconfined, uninhibited.

They saw everything as they raced across the surface of the earth, traveled on the wings of birds, rushed through rising tides, and stormed past mortal houses.

They whispered their secrets and screamed their rage and laughed out their joy, moving all in existence with every breath they took.

It was a bright day, the kind the wind loves, with sun warmed grass to breeze through and fragrant flowers to whip up and relish when the wind was no longer free.

A swirling, elated mass of transparent souls whispered across the meadow, giddy as they communed with the nature souls, when one was snatched away.

She screamed for her sisters who rushed to her aid, but the wind has no hands to grab, to swords to wield, no feet to run, and when the Magics that took their sister disappeared in a streak of vile, black smoke, the dispersed in alarm.

The little wind soul wilted.

To live, wind must move, and there is always somewhere to go.

But the bubble of darkness she was trapped in was too small, too tight, too dark, nothing like the bright clearings or dense forests or raging oceans she was used too.

She was being snuffed out. So much still to do and see so many sisters still to love, and her life was being strangled baby something she couldn’t even see.

Between one breath and the next, she knew nothingness…

And then she knew pain.

She gasped in a deep, painful breath, new, empty lungs burning, screaming in protest, foreign limbs and muscles aching to move in ways she didn’t understand, and then a dark chuckle chilled her colder than winter.

“Ah, you have awakened.”

He knelt down, red eyes gleaming evilly as he stared at her.

He helped her sit up, held out a mirror, and she gasped again when she saw what looked back at her.

A face.

A mortal face, with eyes like roses and skin like snow, stared at her from within the glass.

She’d tried to see in one of these before, like the mortals she followed to ruffle their sleeves, and had seen all of nothing.

The wind wasn’t bound by bodies or forms.

But she lifted her hand, touched her cheek, stared in disbelief as the woman in the mirror reflected every move she made.

She shook her head, felt her eyes burn as liquid fell hot from them and traced down her cheeks.

And the man spoke again.

“Hello Kagura.” He purred, and she jolted. Was that her name? That’s not what her sister’s had called her. “I have given you form, a real body to live in, crafted from my very own flesh. Isn’t it lovely? You’ll have freedom to taste, touch, love. And in exchange, you need only serve me as your master.”

“Freedom?” She asked, confused by his offer. She had been free. Free and happy and alive. This body was painful, small, limited in what it could do and feel.

And she knew something about it was missing.

The man who sat before her smirked.

“Yes. I have gifted you true life and freedom. To keep it, I demand your allegiance.”

She seethed, rage burning hotter than the summer sun, but her new body struggled to contain it.

“You have taken my freedom and offer me a mockery in exchange. Why would I serve a fool such as you?”

He smiled, anger and hatred boiling in his red eyes as he reached behind him for a clay jar. He thrust his hand inside and squeezed something, and blinding pain bloomed throughout her body.

She fell back to floor and screamed until her throat was raw and bloody, begging him to stop, and when he did he grabbed her chin and forced her to behold him in all his vengeful glory.

“That, my dearest Kagura, was you heart. If you do not serve me, then I will destroy it, and with it, all your hopes of freedom and happiness. Are we understood? You will happily serve me, or you will die. You. Are. Mine.”

She gasped for breath as her hope curdled into searing anger.

This wouldn’t be the first time mortals tried to entice the wind. They would often hang colorful bits of paper or fabric to trees and houses, and she and her sisters would brush through them in delight.

Never before had she heard of one trying to imprison the wind.

Oh yes, he was a fool. She would make him an example. None would be so brave again.

And she was not his.

“No.” She struggled to speak through her ruined throat, voice hoarse and strangled.

“I am the wind.”

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Just here to quietly plead for a Geralt x Y/N /fem Y/N fic where Y/N gets kidnapped (did I do that right?).

You know the drill 😳❤️ Angst. Feels. Comfort and maybe love confessions at the end.

oooooo baby, we went back to our roots on this one. we got some big hurt and some even bigger comfort. hope you like it! 💖

“I might never let you go”

Warnings: canon consistent violence, torture/interrogation, choking, kicking, slapping, agressive use of the term ‘bitch’, beheading, death, overall angsty pain, softness to wrap it up tho 

__________

“Even if I had anything to tell you, you’d just kill me afterward. Why would I bother?” you spat the blood from your busted lip at the boots of your captor, giving him a smug red grin just to piss him off even more. You had everything he wanted, no doubt about it. You could make his dreams come true, but you’d certainly rather die than let him find Ciri and Geralt. 

He wrinkled his nose at your blood now all over his shiny black boots, “Normally yes. I would kill you-”

“I have nothing for you anyway.” you reminded him, earning you another backhand, this time to the other side of your face.

You grit your teeth and glared back up at him in a challenge. 

There was an instant of warning, just barely enough time for you to take a deep gulp of air before his hand was at your throat, lifting you off your knees, “You and your witcher playing happy little family has been a pain in my ass for far too long! I want you to watch me kill her after you betray them!" 

You wanted to roll your eyes, maybe tell him ‘I fucking wish’ or ‘I didn’t ask for a spit bath’ and pat his hand condescendingly, but he slammed you back against the cellar wall and suddenly you saw two of him. You lashed out with your legs, but with your ankle chained to the middle of the floor and the links pulled tight you could barely move. He laughed, something in his eyes told you he liked this too much, that this wasn’t simply his duty. In a last-ditch effort you clawed at one of his eyes, barely registering the blood you drew as he dropped you to the floor. You sputtered and coughed, willing your lungs to function normally at least until you found a way out as you struggled to all fours. 

“Fucking- little- bitch!” Every word was punctuated with a kick, every kick had you heaving and gasping for breath.

You curled in on yourself, bringing your knees up to your chest to shield yourself from the blows threatening to tear your lungs in half. Covering your face with your arms you focused on breathing, on just getting through his fit of rage. 

He paused, growling when there was a knock at the door, “Fuck off. I’m under orders, this time.”

The person knocked again and he stomped across the room. You risked a peek at what might be coming for you just as a sword slashed through the man’s neck, sending his head bouncing across the stone floor as his body crumpled on top of it. 

Geralt stood in the doorway, covered in what you hoped was Nilfguardian blood, looking panicked. As soon as he spotted you he rushed to your side, caressing your face before reaching to the beheaded body and snagging a set of keys. 

“Can you stand?” He sounded terrified, something you’d never heard from him before.

“Maybe.” You wheezed, sitting up so he could have a better angle at unlocking you.

When he’d freed you and hauled you to your feet he handed you his sword, “Keep close. I didn’t make too much noise on the way in but they might get worried when they don't hear any screaming.” He held your head in both hands, rubbing tears from your cheeks that you didn’t know you’d shed, “You can do this.”

You nodded, biting the unsplit part of your lower lip to stifle the whimpers clawing at your throat. He grabbed your non-dominant hand and led the way out of your cell, unsheathing his silver sword. Fitting really, for what they’d done to you, these men should be treated as monsters. 

You made it to the wall of the stronghold with no incident unless you counted passing dead and dying guards as an incident. Geralt had wreaked havoc on his way in, enough to make you worry about what had happened in your absence. He turned and gripped your hips, almost throwing you up on top of the stone wall before he vaulted it himself.

“Fall, I’ll catch you.”

Even in your predicament, those words made your heart flutter, “but, the swo-”

“Hurry.” Geralt growled and you obeyed immediately. True to his word, he caught you, but he didn’t set you down to continue. He held you to his chest and guided your legs to wrap around his waist before he took off at a sprint into the woods. You clung to him with every bit of strength you had left, burying your face in his neck and doing your best not to cry. You’d stayed strong for days, took every beating and threat in stride, and it was all surfacing now that he was there to protect you. 

Eventually, he slowed to a walk, resting his hand on your hair as the last of your willpower dissolved into more tears.

“Shhhh… it’s okay. You did so well. You’re so strong.” you sobbed in his arms as he whispered soft, calming words in your ear. He sat down on a fallen tree and leaned back, signaling for you to do the same.

His brows were drawn together but his eyes were soft, examining every last cut and bruise on your face, “Can you take a couple deep breaths for me?”

You nodded, closing your eyes and doing your best to steady and lengthen your breaths. Your throat ached and your ribs protested angrily, but you managed to get three solid inhales and exhales in a row. 

“Good, just breathe.” his fingers brushed your wild hair out of your eyes, taking your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger and tilting your head to the side.

“I didn’t tell them anything. I promise.” your voice was hoarse and watery.

Geralt rested his palm against your cheek, “ Y/N, look at me.”

You forced your eyes open, readying for him to ask if Cirilla was safe; if they could ever be safe again after what you’d undoubtedly told them.

The sincerity in his eyes and voice would have brought tears to your eyes had they not already been there, “There was never a doubt in my mind that you would die before telling them anything. Just breathe. You’re safe now.”

You nodded, taking a slow breath in and whispering, “Thank you…”

Something new flashed in his eyes, his pupils growing just a tad larger, something you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't three inches from his face, “I thought they’d taken you from me.”

Your look of confusion spurred him on, “They spread word you’d died.” His voice was thick and low and you suddenly felt the need to comfort him.

Placing both your hands on his jaw you gave him a tired smile, “I’m fine. Shaky and bruised, but fine.” you insisted.

Geralt leaned forward just enough to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and humming like he didn’t quite believe you. Your heart skipped a beat, the intimacy of your position finally catching up with you as you let a small breathy giggle escape your lips. 

“What?”

“I’m sitting on your lap in the middle of a forest. Feels a bit strange,” you muttered, running your thumbs across his stubble.

If you hadn’t had your hands on his jaw you wouldn’t have realized what was happening when he closed the distance between your lips. The cut on your lip stung at first but the buzzing in your ears and thundering of your heart pushed the sensation to the back of your mind. 

He was warm and soft and ever so gentle, letting your lips brush against each other as he pulled back, “I love you. Don’t you ever leave me again.”

You rushed forward, holding him to you like he was your lifeline, because when you thought about it he really was, “I love you too,” you gasped when you finally needed to come up for air. His hand that was wrapped around your waist traveled up your back, pulling your closer to him in another kiss, but this time you yelped.

“Ribs.” you groaned, tapping the shoulder of his offending arm.

“Shit.”

“It’s okay. It’s fine.” You reassured him, kissing between his brows where his worry line had reappeared, “Maybe just let me lead.” you smirked at him, noting the way his pupils dilated.

“As long as I get to kiss you again.”

“Oh I might never let you go, now.” you kissed him again, this time running your tongue along his bottom lip.

“Good.” he breathed, before firmly pressing his lips to yours and deepening the kiss. 

[babbushka]

Fire & Ice

Kylo Ren x Reader (Medieval AU)

2k; Content Warnings: NSFW (Temperature play [ice cubes and hot wax], praise kink, body worship, begging, PIV, multiple orgasms, orgasm delay, mild lactation kink if you squint lol)

Kinktober Masterlist || Available on AO3

                                                -------------------------

You and Kylo are so similar, in so many ways. You share a passion unmatched my any that the kingdom has ever seen, you share likes and dislikes, music and food and clothing all to the same taste. You are both revered by the people, adored, even those you take prisoner cannot be mad at you for too long. Yes, you are so similar, and that is something for which you are grateful.

However, there are differences, because of course there are.

Kylo rules with an iron fist, with an explosive aggression that takes his enemies by storm. He is loud and ruthless and cruel, unrelenting to those who oppose him. He leaves no survivors, leaves no home standing, flames licking into the night sky with reckless abandon, as his war cry echoes through the burning valleys.

You are quiet, clever. You rule with firm precision, with calculated moves, with sharp eyes and a silver tongue. Your enemies do not know when they are killed, only that they are dead, and it has been by your hand. Your charm runs cold when confronted with those who oppose you, the warmth drained from your presence so that they may feel the errors of their ways frozen deep in their bones.  

Where Kylo is fire, you are ice.

Funny that it should work out that way, Kylo thinks, as your back arches up to meet the cubes of frozen water he dangles above your stomach.

The first time it happened, it took you both by surprise. Kylo remembers it well, remembers the first day he felt the hot wax on his skin, remembers how it made him groan, how it made him come.

He had been on his back in bed, your body undulating above him with deep satisfaction, his cock buried all the way inside your pussy, all the way to the hilt. You were riding him hard and fast, sweat flying off the tip of your nose, trickling down your chin from the effort and the warmth of the raging fire in the hearth. There had been candles all around, as there usually were, and the wax had gone so soft, had dripped faster than normal – dripped right on Kylo’s chest.

Oh, how he had moaned! The noise had caught you off guard, thinking perhaps he was in danger he sounded so strangled. But with the way his eyes rolled back into his head from the pinprick of pain, you had quickly snatched up the candle and tipped it more deliberately onto his chest, onto his nipples.

They went hard and his flesh broke into goosebumps, that first time – and it does so now.

“Kylo!” You whine, snapping him back to reality. “Kylo please, I need more, I want more my beloved.” Your eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown black with lust as you rest atop the fur pelt on the floor.

That had been then, but this is now.

Now, you are beneath his body. His Queen, his most precious thing in the world, naked and glowing in the candlelight. Your skin is hot to the touch, hot from how hard Kylo had fucked you. He had fucked you well, so well that your voice was now hoarse from the way you screamed his name as you came on his cock – the very same cock which has remained buried inside your cunt as it squeezes and throbs around him. He hasn’t come yet, he’ll get his chance, his turn.

He can ignore the burn of the fire inside him, because in this moment, in this moment he turns his attention towards you with the ice.

“Take another,” He murmurs softly, “My angel, my Queen.”

You are so beautiful, he cannot help but think, as the ice makes contact with your flesh. Your gasps are Heavenly, a song he has memorized, as the cubes begin to melt and travel down the path to your pussy.

“Oh!” You are so happy when you sigh like this for him, it makes him want to fuck you again, makes him want to get you to come once more all over his cock fingers tongue.

And so he does, his hips moving slowly, ever so slowly, a push and pull that has your knees falling to the sides almost flat, has your eyes slipping shut.

He likes releasing the ice onto your skin, likes watching the rivers they leave behind as they slide across the sweat-slick of your stomach, following the contours of your waist, your hips. You moan out his name when the ice eventually finds its way to your coarse pubic hair, how it shocks you there. Your cunt is so hot around his cock, the ice in comparison makes you nearly cry.

“Kylo! It’s so cold Kylo – it feels so good, I love you, oh I’m so cold.” You moan and sigh and gasp and cry, your hands clutching at your breasts, squeezing them, rolling at your own nipples and tugging on them.

He licks up those tears, licks them and savors them on his tongue as he plucks more ice from the bowl in which they are steadily melting. He begins this one higher up, lets it rest in the pit of your throat, the little dip there that holds the ice cube steady.

Another one he rubs against your nipple, the left and then the right. Your body jolts and writhes under it, under the stinging cooling freezing sensation of the ice against your overworked body. Kylo’s cock is so hard inside of you, your breathy moans keeping him throbbing, ever on the precipice of orgasm, but he won’t give in yet. Not yet, not until you come just like this.

“Fuck, fuck that is so good – oh honey, oh heaven!” Your voice climbs higher and higher until it breaks when the ice cube settles between the intense heat of your folds, right on your clit.

Kylo takes the opportunity and rubs it there with his fingers, those fingers of his which have gone slightly numb from the cold. He’s not worried, it’s the farthest thing from his mind, he knows the heat of your cunt will warm him back up.

He presses the ice to your clit and rolls his hips against yours, pulls his cock nearly out all the way, and then sheathes it back inside the clutch of your cunt again and again until you come.

“Fuck!” You shout, “Kylo do that again please – please do that again!”

And you do – you do you do you do, with his name on your lips in a strangled plea as your hips buck up and you demand more friction that he will give you. He knows you’ll punish him for it with the hot wax, and he looks forward to it, it makes his stomach coil with anticipation.

The ice melts, and Kylo lets it. With no cubes left in the bowl, he knows that now it’s his turn.

He tends to go first when you play with the elements in this way. Not only because he loves to dote on you, he’s obsessed with you, he wants to feel your pleasure and let it consume him – but also because the ice requires more work than the wax does.

Kylo corrals your bodies so that you are straddling him very much like that first time, the candles so close, wax drip drip dripping. Your nipples are still hard, and Kylo can’t deny himself the opportunity to suck on them. They’re frozen on his tongue, and you sigh when the heat of his tongue brings them back to normal. He loves this, loves sucking on your breasts, loves burying his face into them and holding you close, quiet, calm.

But that’s not what this is, not what he wants right now, and you both know it – you know it with the way you begin to bounce on his cock, clenching hard around him and making him groan, seeking the rough pace he had denied you.

“Beautiful boy,” Your voice is thick and raw like honey as you comb your fingers through his hair and let him suck and lick and bite at your breasts.

The candles are purposefully within reach tonight, and you grab one easily. Kylo knows what to expect, he knows, but it still is a surprise how the hot wax feels against the hard muscle of his stomach. Little pitter patters from above, like rain drops of fire onto his flesh, he’s already moaning, already so far gone from the sensations around him, from your body, your face.

You love doing this for him, the very same way you love doing all things for him. Kylo was born through the fire, forged through the rage and pain of his past. This makes him stronger, makes him feel good, so good to know that he has beaten it, has turned the pain into pleasure. He wants to come from the simple knowledge that it is you who brings him there.

“Look how good you are, look at you, so handsome, so strong under me.” You’re exhausted, lust clouding your vision from how hard you came on his cock, and yet you still grind your hips against his.

Never staying in one place, you drip the wax in a pathway across his stomach, his chest. You steer clear of his face and his neck, and the hairy regions of his arms and legs, but the wax builds up in thick layers against his sculpted body as you ride him, your pussy like the most delicious mead, the strongest wine.

“More, please, I can take more.” Kylo licks his lips, his mouth flooding with drool as he loses himself in your cunt.  

Kylo’s hands brace themselves on your hips as you drip drip drip the wax, spelling out your name with big letters, wanting the stars above to know who has claimed the victory of his undying loyalty, his love. Seeing you above him like this sets something primal off inside him.

He wants to keep you forever, wants to keep you satisfied. You throw your head back and ride him, cunt so wet and tight and hot hot hot the wax is so hot the world is so hot – he has to bare his teeth and nearly snarl from the sensation. Kylo wants to burn the world down to the ground, he would, he would do it if only you asked.

“Good boy, you’re so good.” You praise him, and he moans from it, that praise going straight to his cock.

Your hands rattle from how fast you ride him, the wax splattering irregularly onto his stomach. He lets his eyes close and feels the pinpricks of pain, his stomach tensing up, his balls drawing up, he’s sweating so hard, he wants to come inside you so badly, he begs for it.

“(Y/N), my – I – please let me come, let me come in you, I’ll do anything, please!” He shakes shakes shakes.

“Yes, yes Kylo, come in me.” You nod with a great big smile.

With the permission he seeks finally granted, he comes so hard he blacks out.

He can’t tell exactly, but he’s nearly positive that you’ve come again too, your body shaking trembling convulsing above him, crying and drooling onto his chest, hardening the wax and making him blow his load thick and heavy into your pussy.

It isn’t until you’ve both come down from your orgasms, the ice water has run warm, the wax cooled and peeled off of his flesh, do you and Kylo realize it is pouring rain. You smile against one another’s lips, and he brushes the hair out of your face, caressing you. It’s all he ever wants, is to caress you, to care for you the way you care for him so well.

In the morning there will be battle plans, training, meetings and travel.

But for now, for this moment, you are simply together, the rain pouring down onto the castle in gentle sweeps that lure you both to sleep with soft I love yous whispered against your lips.

[felidlycanthrope]

Bergamot and Campfires

zuko x reader

teeth rotting fluffy fluff (angst if you squint? idk)

a lot of the time my writing is how I cope with my panic attacks in the middle of the night- that’s why a lot of the content is either soft or super soft lol

also my boi zuko deserves a break from being put through the ringer sometimes lbr

Today was not the day to cross me. It had started when I’d spilled the last of my favorite tea blend only minutes after I woke up. I tripped over a small bundle of food that Katara had left behind as she went about cooking breakfast further toward the center of our campsite.

But I clenched my jaw and stalked off to find something to wash it with. Though it probably wouldn’t stain, I hated the feeling of the sticky sweetness that was often left behind by its leaves.

~

Luckily, there was a river nearby. Though barely a trickle of water, it would have to do if I wasn’t to reek of bergamot for the next few days before we moved the campsite again.

I let my shirt fall over my shoulders before a rustle in the trees alerted me to the presence of someone else. I whipped my dagger out of my boot and wielded it against the sound- a badgerfrog who croaked at me questioningly before hopping into the small stream. I let out a sigh of relief before resheathing my blade. I pulled my shirt off further, and shoved it into the water. I scrubbed at the now-dried area, letting my anger scrub its scent out of the fabric.

~

I returned to the campsite with a soaking wet shirt, only to find Sokka furiously stitching my tent.

“What did you do?” I know it sounded accusatory, but to be honest most of the wear and tear of our gear came from overzealous training or discussions.

“I was just…I didn’t see…I threw Boomerang too hard and it came back at a different angle than I thought it would,” he blurted. He shrunk down before showing me the needle. “I don’t think it’ll be pretty but…I’m sorry.”

I wanted to scream at him until my voice went hoarse, but he was probably just as stressed as I was. Instead, I called out: “Zuko, you’re better at sewing than dumb-dumb over here. Can you fix it?”

He opened an eye from underneath the shade of the tree above him. “Fix what?”

I gestured to both the tent and surrounding idiot. “Fix this.”

“I can fix the tent. Can’t fix him.”

“Whatever works,” I replied with a venom I didn’t intend. I didn’t want to say something I would regret, so I walked into the woods behind the site as quickly as I could until I was out of earshot.

~

Soon night fell, and I had to get back to the group before anyone got worried. We had enough to be nervous about- I wouldn’t want to worry anyone even more.

The flicker of the fire served as my beacon. Even though I loved them, none of the original five of us could make a raging fire to save our lives. It was always a flicker here or a flicker there, never a warm wind on our faces.

Though the fire raged, the only person left by its light was Zuko. He sat perched on a rock nearby. Just far enough that he wouldn’t smell of burning wood, but close enough to feel its warmth.

I sat down beside him, the cool moss underneath my feet soothed the ache from walking around the woods all day.

Before I could process it, tears began to stream down my face. I tried to sniffle quietly, but it wasn’t long before Zuko broke the silence that hummed in the air.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He shifted closer to me, nudging his knee against my own. He lifted my chin with a whisper of a touch, pressed a kiss to my forehead. Golden irises, alight with the flickering flames of the now raging fire, scanned my own. I knew he was searching for an answer that I didn’t even know myself at this point.  

I shook my head, burying my face in his freshly washed shirt. He wrapped me in his arms, pressing a hand to the back of my head.

The echo of the crackling fire bounced off the walls of the ravine. He sat with me for…well, I don’t even know how long before the frog in my throat found its way into the world. “It feels hopeless sometimes,” I murmured. He gently pushed me backward, taking my face in his hands as he wiped away the streaks of tears. “Every time we find some small victory, or small moment of happiness, there’s someone new who wants to destroy everything and everyone. And I don’t understand it. And because I don’t understand it I feel like I’m useless. Like every part of this team has its purpose-except me. I don’t know where I belong anymore, or who to trust, or who to listen to.”

“You’re not useless,” he stated quickly. “I don’t know who would be able to keep us all from killing each other on any given day.” He crossed his legs, clearly settling in for the long haul. “I know it feels like a lot right now. I know this isn’t going to fix everything, but just know that you’re allowed to be overwhelmed. We’re all feeling it.”

“I just…” The rest of my answer couldn’t find its way out of my throat.

“You don’t have to respond,” he declared quickly. “You should probably head in for the night. I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

I nodded silently, watching intently as he stood. He offered me one hand, then quickly the other. I gladly took both, standing on still-shaking knees. He let go of my left hand, but held the right more firmly. He led me to my freshly re-stitched tent. Even though it looked absolutely terrible- like he’d gone around the tear hundreds of times before finally getting everything in one piece. I ran my fingers over it, admiring its imperfection.

I let the weight of my body fall into the comfort of my sleeping bag. I stared at the ceiling, listening to the crickets for a moment before the crunch of dirt underfoot broke the silence. He sat in the corner, cross-legged, leaning back onto a patch of moss. I turned on my side before sliding under the covers and patting beside me. “Don’t be stupid,” I laughed.

“Well, I didn’t know,” he muttered, obliging quickly. “I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be stupid,” I replied again. I laid my head on the palm of my hand, and wrapped an arm over his chest.

A soft snort shook his chest before he took his hand in mine. “Go to sleep,” he laughed.

“I know, I know,” I responded. The crickets grew louder as a silence fell over us. “Good night.”

“Good night, beautiful.”

[maomao-words]

Ok but I actually love your writing!!! I read, saving from a failed blind date, with a stupid smile on my face. I loved it!! When I got to the end I audibly went “wait no I want more this is too cute.” anyway, love your work

My darling, your words are too sweet for my poor heart (✿´‿`) Thank you so much dear, your message made me smile like an idiot!

You know what, in exchange for uplifting my spirits, let me offer you a little something! I wasn’t really thinking of completing nor posting this piece of work, but I hope this will make you as happy as you made me!

It’s mostly fluffy with the slightest touch of angst. I hope you enjoy! ♥

MLQC Boys Having a Nightmare about MC:

Gavin:

Gavin’s heart was beating out of his chest as sweat beads trickled down his muddy forehead. The frosty wind howled loudly in his ears, but the sound of the heavy rain falling blocked its loud cry. Gavin clenched his teeth in despair, his eyes firmly locked with your teary ones as you whispered.

“It’s okay. Let me fall.”

Gavin’s hand holding yours in a tight lock trembled. His gaze moved past your figure to the raging ocean right underneath your feet; the sea which would soon become your grave. The cliff’s ragged rocks dug further into Gavin’s chest as he watched you slowly slip from his grasp and dangle further into the empty space.

A loud string of “no, no, no, no, not her, not her” echoed in Gavin’s head as the wind sped further and the sky turned darker. Hot tears gathered behind his eyelids every time he tried to gather up all of his strength to pull you in. But no matter how much he clenched his teeth and focused his hazy consciousness, your hand continued to slip away from his fingers, inch by inch.

Soon, just as a vicious howl was heard in the distance, Gavin watched in horror as he lost strength in his hand and you dropped down the cliff, a soft smile still plastered on your bloody lips.

Gavin’s cry echoed across the quiet bedroom as he woke up with a startle. With his heart beating in an attempt to escape his rib-cage, Gavin felt panic subduing in his chest as he realized it was just a dream. A small mumble echoed from his right side and warm lips were soon kissing his flushed neck.

You sleepily asked what was wrong, but Gavin gently pushed you back into the warm blankets, cradling you in his arms as he lay beside you. You happily hummed, nestling your face into his sturdy chest and inhaling his familiar scent.

Few hours had to pass before Gavin was assured enough to finally close his eyes once again, still tightly holding you close.

Victor:

“I hate you.”

Your words, dipped in bitter venom, echoed across Victor’s office, rendering his speechless for the first time years. Your eyes, the ones that used to look at Victor with raw love and pure adoration, were now filled with bottomless hatred, shaking him to the core.

Victor opened his dry mouth to ask for an explanation but you were one beat faster than him as you spat more hatred and scorn, grinning in abhorrence as you crossed your arms; “You, with your haughty manners and arrogant demeanor, do not deserve any happiness in this life, Victor.”

Victor’s eyes trembled with raw emotions as he watched you take off your ring and carelessly toss it to the side, heedless of where it dropped. Victor desperately wished to move closer to you and peer into your eyes to read your thoughts. His lover, his treasure, his most beloved dummy would never say such words to him unless he has committed the gravest of sins. But as if he were tied to his chair, Victor couldn’t move an inch to even cradle you in his arms and beg for forgiveness.

Bound to be an immobile spectator, Victor watched for a very long time the woman he loved tear his heart into shreds until a distant scream jolted him awake.

You was right beside him, hair unkempt and lips trembling as you tightly clung into Victor’s arm, shaking him in a panic. Finally seeing your lover awake after watching him suffer through a long nightmare, you gasped, voice cracking as you desperately whispered his name. Victor blinked his eyes in a slight confusion before reality settled in and he realized that he was simply dreaming.

Victor’s arms soon found their way to your waist, pulling you closer to his side before softly pecking your lips. He inhaled your familiar scent, feeling his racing heart finally slowing down to a normal pace. You were there in his arms, and Victor could not wish for anything more.

Kiro:

“Please, don’t!”

Kiro begged and begged but the blood continued to trickle down your neck with no end in sight. His heart was burning with an excruciating pain, as he agonizingly struggled to breathe through the clotted blood in his mouth. Kiro could feel the crimson liquid seeping through the deep wound on his own chest through the thick material of his shirt until it gathered around him in a large puddle on the floor.

But none of the pain nor the ache registered in Kiro’s mind. His eyes were tightly glued to your figure, just a few feet away from him, tied to a wooden chair. Your eyes were open but they were empty of any life, not even flinching every time the knife sliced away at your already torn flesh.

“Don’t hurt her, please!” Kiro cried again, his voice hoarse after hours of screaming his lungs out at the dark figure standing behind you, calmly torturing you for Kiro’s crimes. “It’s me who deserves death, not her...”

But no matter how loud Kiro begged or how many tears he shed, your blood spilled on the dirty ground, drop by drop, pushing Kiro into a maddened state as he felt the world around him fade into nothingness.

Bright light suddenly greeted Kiro’s eyes. He blinked, trying to get his hazy mind to focus on the distant voice calling his name from afar. Only when soft hands swept his damp bangs out of his eyes and a soothing scent enveloped him that Kiro realized he was only dreaming.

Kiro clenched his long fingers into your sleeping gown, pushing his face into your chest and biting his lips to stop the tears from falling. You gently hummed, allowing Kiro to push himself flat against you as you ran your fingers through his golden locks in an attempt to soothe him.

Under the influence of your tender touch and soft whispers, Kiro fell back into sleep, his arms still tightly holding you, refusing to let go.

Lucien:

Lucien trembled. The air was freezing cold, the ground heavily damp with the rain that continued to fall, disregarding his wishes.

Lucien’s hands, still holding on to the bloodied knife, refused to budge. The wind howled in mockery of the devil who tried to wear the mask of an angel, ruffling your hair and making you wince in pain. You weakly coughed, fingers trembling as you slowly extended your hand upwards. Your soft touch against his cold cheek sent unpleasant shivers down Lucien’s back, forcing his gaze downwards to look at the gaping wound in the middle of your chest.

“I won’t... forgive you.” Your whisper was close to a haunting curse. Your smile widening in twisted joy as your hand on Lucien’s face dropped down, leaving a trail of black blood behind. Lucien instinctively knew you have stopped breathing but he could not move an inch, neither to save you nor to escape, eyes still locked with your deep wound as if refusing to acknowledge the work of his own hands.

Did I-- kill her? Lucien felt a dreary coldness slowly rising up in his core with the question, spreading further and further until it clasped his throat and squeezed it harshly. He tried to breathe, but as if the air around him ceased to exist, he gasped in agony instead as his lungs burned with the effort to inhale. Lucien raised his hands to clutch at his throat but the dried blood on his palms stopped him in his tracks, pushing him to lower his head at your corpse. An animalistic scream was lodged deep within his chest.

“I’m here, I’m here!” Warm arms pulled Lucien into a tight hug and a familiar voice mumbled sleepily in his ears. Lucien blinked his weary eyes at you, the first rays of the rising sun illuminating your shared bedroom and allowing him to see your worried expression.

Lucien slumped in your embrace before cradling you weakly in his arms. The nightmare he just had felt realistic enough for Lucien to shiver, even with your continuous assurances echoing in the room for hours to come.

[peterspideyy]

move on

summary- peter blames himself for what happened to you. will her ever let you go?

warnings- angst!

————

peter parker was a happy teenager.

he went to the best school in new york, studying science which he found so interesting. he had a caring aunt. caring friends. a caring mentor. he loved photography, and could binge watch star wars all night long. he was the friendly neighbourhood spider-man, and found so much joy in helping people in need. he even, unexpectedly, found his true love.

peter parker was a happy teenager.

until one day, he wasn’t.

it was a warm, sunny saturday. funny, how the whole of new york had wide smiles on their faces, finally enjoying the summery day, after weeks of terrible, rainy weather. men and women sunbathed in the soft green grass. children were laughing in the streets. all while, peter parker was in a rusty ally way, cradling your lifeless body in his hands, while sobbing words no one could understand.

he was late. his senses didn’t pick up the danger in time. the gun shot. everything, happened too quick for him to process. he only just left you. after only just giving you a promise ring. a ring filled with so much love and respect. and now he won’t be able to give it to you any more.

because he was too late to save the one person he never wanted anything bad to happen to. the one person he loved deeply. and now that person is gone.

“peter.”

the soft voice of his aunt interrupted his thoughts, as she opened his door slightly. light from the hallway, slipped through the creak, illuminating his room, which was dark. he was sat on his bed, with a photo of you both placed neatly infront of him.

that was the only thing which was neat in his room. clothes were everywhere. his desk was trashed, from his anger. his dressing table, had stacks of untouched food from days ago. he was a mess. physically and mentally.

“there’s someone here to see you.”

peter opened his mouth, about to speak, but a hoarse cough ripped out of his chest. he hasn’t spoken in days, only grunted. “go...away.”

may ignored him, opening the door wider allowing the visitor to enter. they did as said, nodding slightly at may, before closing the door behind them, allowing the once dark room to surround peter again.

“hey, pete. how you holding up?”

it was ned. and despite how much peter loved his best friend, he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“i’m...fine. but, go away.”

“you don’t look fine.” ned commented, sitting on peter’s bed next to him.

peter scoffed. he didn’t have the energy to listen to ned.

“she wouldn’t want you to do this.”

anger raged within peter’s body, “what do you know what she wants? hey?”

ned’s eyes went wide, at peter’s sudden outburst, as he tried to find his next words carefully. he didn’t want to make him angry.

“she’s dead, ned! she can’t make decisions anymore!” he yelled.

“yes, but i know she wouldn’t-“

“stop! just, stop!” he stood up, pacing his room.

“peter, listen to me. this is not healthy. you need to move on.”

“how?”

peter’s voice was so quiet, taking ned a back for the second time.

“by letting her go.”

“no, i-i can’t! no!” he chanted, his voice increasing in volume again.

“you need to move on, peter. i know for a fact she would want you to live your life.”

“ned...” peter warned, quietly, feeling his anger about to explode any second.

“if you, just calm down and talk to me about what your feeling, maybe it will help-“

“ned...stop.”

“-you move on. because, i’m worried about you peter. and i know for a fact y/n will be worried.”

peter couldn’t take it anymore.

a deafening scream passed his lips, and before ned could even process what was happening, peter rushed to his side, pushing the boy against the wall roughly. ned’s mouth went wide, as the air in his lungs was knocked out of him.

“shut up!” peter screeched.

ned looked at him, seeing tears welling up in his eyes. he knew this wasn’t the peter he was used to. he wouldn’t let what was happening become personal, because he’s taken his sadness out on him in a different way.

“y/n’s dead, ned! dead! so, please don’t tell me what she wants for me, because she’s not here to tell me that herself! don’t tell me to relax. please.”

“let go of me.” ned said softly, yet sternly. peter blinked, looking at his best friend against his wall in pain, before letting his hands go to his sides and walking backwards slowly.

“i-i’m sorry, ned. i shouldn’t o-of done that.” he mumbled, sitting on the bed again, with his head in his hands.

“it’s okay, buddy.” ned replied, sitting next to him on the bed, before wrapping his arms around him.

“i just...she’s the one person i truly loved, and now she’s dead because of-“

peter didn’t get to finish his sentence, before his throat started to close up and his heart dropped, as realisation hit him like a truck. y/n is dead. because of him.

“i’ll protect you. no matter what the cost.” he smiled, leaning in to kiss your cheek softly.

“promise?”

“i promise, my love.”

“it’s all my fault!” he sobbed, burying his head in ned’s shoulder, shaking with how hard he was crying. ned froze. he has never seen peter this upset before, and it broke his heart to see it.

“shhh, it’s okay. it’s not your fault.” ned mumbled, stroking his back comfortably.

minutes passed, and peter stopped sobbing as harshly as he was. instead, he was starring at a photo of you and him, which was still on his bed.

it was taken on his surprise birthday party, just after all his friends and family surprised him. there was still shock evident in his eyes, but he was so happy and grateful. he remembers that night perfectly. and it was perfect due to you.

“surprise!”

peter stumbled back two steps, eyes wide at the room suddenly becoming light. everyone was there. ned. mj. betty. even flash was there. may. you. a smile fell on his face, after the initial wide mouth, when he met your eyes. you returned the gesture, softly.

“did you do this?” peter asked you, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you more towards him.

“mmm maybe.” you giggled, causing peter to lean in; leaning his forehead against yours.

“i love you.” he whispered, against your lips.

“i love you too.”

he was about to kiss you, when a bright flash illuminated both of your features suddenly. you turned, to see ned with his phone in his hands, clearly taking a photo of you both.

“do you mind?” peter laughed, shaking his head at his best friend interrupting your special moment.

“sorry guys, you looked cute.”

a blush appeared on your cheeks, as you leaned your head into peter’s chest, as he stroked your back gently.

“you’ll thank me in the future!”

“you better now?” ned asked, taking peter out of his thoughts.

“yeah. sorry about that.” peter mumbled, pulling away from ned’s hug.

he shook his head, “never apologise for letting your emotions out.”

peter hummed, “i think i needed to let it all out.”

ned only nodded.

seconds passed, and ned coughed slightly, before standing up, “i better be going. sorry i can’t stay for longer.”

“it’s fine,” peter grinned, slightly, “it means a lot that you came.”

“listen, before i go, i just want you to understand how even though y/n isn’t here now, she will always be with you. i know she isn’t here to say it herself, but she wouldn’t want you to live like this. i know for a fact, she would want you to move on. i’m not saying to forget about her, but to just carry on living.”

a tear left peter’s eye again, as he nodded making ned smile sadly at him, before leaving his room; closing the door behind him.

he sighed heavily, leaning back into his bed which he hasn’t slept in, in days. he starred at an insignificant spot in his ceiling, reminding himself of you. not the bad memories, but the happy ones. the ones were you shared your first kiss. the ones were you spent all night binge watching star wars. the ones were he took you out at night, by swinging through the city.

a genuine smile spread on his face. the first genuine smile in what seemed like forever. and all of a sudden, peter parker was that happy teenager all over again.

standing up, he grabbed the photo looking at it one last time, before placing it in his memory box. he sighed, closing the lid, with your smile the last thing he saw.

peter breathed out heavily, as he felt a massive weight lift off his shoulders.

he’ll always mourn over the death of you. he’ll always love you. but, he’ll follow ned’s advice and move on.

because that’s what you would want him to.

————

a/n- thanks for reading! this isn’t the best angst fic i’ve ever wrote, so i’m sorry about that! i have a special surprise coming soon, so keep your eyes peeled :)

————

peter parker taglist- @24kbucky @parkersbliss @liberty-barnes @icyhollands @dreamofaprilsblog @deathofmissjackson @averyfosterthoughts @jannine00742 @beverlyparkerr @anapocalypseinmymind @itstaskeen

[starksvixen]

Shattered - Part 2

Summary: A Jedi and a Mandalorian. Impossible right? Not for Satine and Obi - Wan. Hell, he even said he would leave the Jedi Order for her. But you wished it was you... 

A/N - I have only watched a few episodes of Clone Wars so I am not overall familar with Satine and Obi - Wan’s romance. I just thought it would be a spicy fanfiction hehe. This story is also not based on any specific Clone Wars episode, but rather an imaginary situation.

There is a reason the quote “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger” is around. Despite the deep cuts left in your chest due to your shattered heart, you used the pain as fuel, a purpose. To become hardened, to never let another man into your heart like that again. You were a Mandalorian and much to Satine’s dislike, you were a warrior at heart, meant to protect others and your people. 

You repeated these words to yourself over and over during your stay on the planet. Keeping your conversations short with the Jedi while you trained by yourself. Only talking to Satine if she promised to not bring up the heartbreak. 

With every other attack that came against the Duchess, you became more accurate, more deadly. You were liking the person you were turning into, a true Mandalorian. A warrior in your armor that people feared. It felt good to no longer be the weak girl the General had left you as. 

Until today. 

You watched the ships being loaded up closely, ensuring that none of those droids could stowaway. Every time you saw one crawl into the luggage, your blaster was up by your eyes and the droid would be dead on the ground. 

This time, Obi Wan was shoving something into one of the luggage carts as you watched one crawl it’s way onto the bag. Without a second thought, you quickly shoot it off, not minding the shot’s close proximity to the Jedi’s head. 

Apparently, that was Obi Wan’s last straw, storming over to you. You let a soft sigh release, one soft enough your modulator couldn’t translate. Still gentle as ever, he grabs your arm and takes you inside, to a secluded corner away from prying arms of workers.

“What the bloody hell has gotten into you, (Y/N)?” he exclaims into a whisper.

“I’ve been doing my job,” you reply in a flat tone.

“No, you haven’t. You’ve been avoiding me, shutting out Satine, taking more risks. All you ever do is go from training by yourself to sitting in your room doing Gods knows what. It’s not healthy!” 

“It doesn’t matter...”

“Yes, it do-”

All you hear is Satine’s scream, sending your entire body into flight or fight. Pushing past Obi - Wan, you run out to the tarmac to see the place littered with dead clones and Satine in the hands of a pirate.

Quickly, you lift your gun to take out the threat, but an invisible Force pushes the tip to the ground. You look at Obi - Wan, your eyes wide underneath your mask as his hand stays subtly lifted. 

“Put the Duchess down, or you will regret it,” 

“And how would I regret it? The Duchess is worth more then the two of you combined!” the pirate laughs. 

That’s when the Force on your blaster was released. With a smirk beneath your mask, you quickly shoot the leader, sending his lackies into a blood induced rage. 

Out of the corner of your eye, Obi - Wan wordlessly takes his place behind your back, hearing the loud buzz of a lightsaber being enacted. All of them were coming at you both too fast for you to shoot. So as the first one came, you used your blaster to smack them straight across the face. 

Given the small space in time, you grab your staff from your pocket, clicking a button to expand it. Then, as each pirate came running towards you, you could easily smack them out of the way. Reaching into the slot on your armor, your pulled the blade seated there and stabbed each of them in the thigh as they landed. The bastards weren’t going to get away with this. 

Once all of the pirates were either dead or groaning on the ground, Satine runs towards you. Quickly looking away, you return your weapons to their proper place as you think she is running towards Obi - Wan. But she runs straight into your arms and without hesitation you hold your oldest friend close to you. 

“You shouldn’t have fell for the trick,” she whispers. 

“(Y/N), no!” you hear the real Satine from behind you. 

Just as the changeling uses her hidden blade to try and slit your throat, she freezes with the blade pressed slightly into your skin. The changeling fell to the ground, a lightsaber shaped hole in her chest. 

Obi - Wan looks at you with wide eyes as you breathe heavily. Without him, you most likely would have met your doom. The pure adrenaline coursing through your veins helps you to ignore the steady stream of blood pouring all over your armor from the wound on your neck. You bend and quickly grab your blaster, your eyes scanning what was left of the luggage carts for any more threats.

“Anakin, get the Duchess on board and get us out of here. I’ll take care of (Y/N),” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Anakin quickly escort your friend on board and the ship roaring to life. As your body realizes she’s safe, your knees give out under the pressure of your sight spinning. Before you fully collapse to the ground, a pair of strong arms keeps you up, throwing an arm around his shoulders and helping you onto the ship. 

Once in a secluded room, Obi - Wan quickly closes the door, your heart picking up at his presence. He quickly collects what he needs from nearby storage carts, obviously waiting for you to take your helmet off.

“Thank you for your help, but I can take care of myself,” you hoarsely say, the pain from your neck intensifying. 

“She’s safe with Anakin, you need me more,”

You sigh hard once he collects everything and sets it beside where you now sit. As he goes to take your helmet off, you quickly snatch his wrists to stop him. 

“(Y/N)...what did I do to break your trust?” Obi - Wan whispers, picking up on the subtle que. 

“You didn’t...” 

Slowly, you release his wrists, your helmet clad head pointing towards the ground as you felt the weakness you always felt around him set in. Tears spring into your eyes from the pain in your neck and the one in your chest.

“What did I do to lose you?” 

“I made you, so you would be happy,” you softly say, the pain escalating at an alarming rate. 

“But my dear, I have been quite the opposite,” 

“What are you talking about? You’re with Satine, I see how you look at her.”

“How I look at her pales in comparison to how I look at you,” 

You stay silent, trying to process his words and suppress the butterflies to threaten to tear your gut in two. The vulnerability sets in, making you tense up, making the pain even worse all over. You can’t help but a small, audible sob echo from you as it all becomes to overwhelming.

“My love,” you hear him whisper. “I’ve never been interested in Satine.” 

Slowly, you feel his hands rest against either side of your helmet. This time, you don’t stop him. You opt to keep your head tilted to the ground, the stickiness from the blood against your neck adding to the overwhelming feelings that blur your mind. You feel the metal slip away from your hair, a fresh wave of cool air hitting your face and neck as Obi - Wan slowly removes your chest plate next. He lays them like Satine does, in a certain order, always showing respect. 

“(Y/N), it’s you.”

You feel two fingers slip between your chin, lifting your face to meet his as your tears begin to slow. 

“It’s always been you,” 

He leans in without pause, you meeting him halfway through until your lips collide. 

All of the emotions pent up, the same things that had overwhelmed you moments before, were gone. Your mind was clear for the first time in months, the only thing running through your thoughts was him. The way your lips danced together, like they were somehow training together in your minds, it sent goosebumps up your spine and down your arms. 

There was something in the way his hands slipped from your face to your hips, like if he let go you would disappear again. Your seated position changes as you stand together, his frame pressed so tightly against you despite your remaining armor you could feel every muscle. As if it was engrained, your arms slip up his chest, around his neck, into his hair. Gently, you pull at the roots, not to force the kiss away, but as a silent message of longing. How much you had waited for this moment. 

Eventually, you come up for air, both of you sharing a soft pant at the tension broken between the two of you. A smile unlike any other graces your face, happiness replacing the adrenaline that was once in your veins. 

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” he whispers, his swollen lips pressing against yours softly with his words. 

“And I love you, Obi - Wan Kenobi,” you whisper in return. 

After some time, he sat you down again, cleaning and stiching up the wound on your neck. Not without a chaste kiss here and there however. As he threads the needle through the last point it was needed, a thought comes to mind.

“What about the Order?” 

A soft silence settles between you as the Jedi ponders your words. But only for a moment. 

“When Satine first caught onto my feelings, I told her I would leave the Jedi Order if you told me too,” 

As he threads and ties off the last stitch, your eyes connect again as you ponder his words now too. 

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you,”

“But then we can’t be together, (Y/N),” 

You ponder once more. 

“What they don’t know can’t kill them,” you mumble softly, running a hand through his tangled locks that still somehow remained soft. 

“You want to keep it a secret?” 

“Until you’re ready to leave, not for me, but for yourself.”

“How did I get so lucky to have a gorgeous and smart woman?” he says with a cheeky smirk.

“Shut up and kiss me already, Obi,” 

Once again, he doesn’t hesitate, your lips joining in a hungrier matrimony then before. Slowly, you lay down on the bench you had been sat upon, coaxing your Jedi to hover over you. Without his lips leaving yours for a second, he braces himself above you. Just as his lips leave yours to travel elsewhere, a jolt in the ship alerts you both to your arrival back on Mandoa. Obi - Wan groans softly at the lost chance of having some fun, but the same smirk you had fallen for etches his face as he whispers to you:

“Another happy landing,” 

Tag List: (leave a comment to be added)

powerpuff-bucky

Would anyone want a Part 3? Maybe like an Epilogue?