#truly resisting the urge to start sobbing on the floor

[bespokegarbage]

Ooh looks like my flight might actually leave!

[iliketangerines]

Please could you do something where Kung lao walks in on you masturbating? Like you both have feelings for one another, but this breaks the tension, and you guys just fuck. I'm having major Kung Lao brain rot rn, and I truly love your writing. Keep going with the amazing work!! ❤️❤️

i can help with that

a/n: i'm so down bad for this man it's not even funny

pairing: kung lao x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), overstimulation, pussy eating, finger fucking, creampies

you lay in your bed, blankets thrown off, legs spread, and vibrator pressed into your clit, and you try to resist the urge to pull away the vibrator as it all becomes too much

you whine and turn off the vibrator, too sensitive to have it pressed against your clit, and you let out a choked sob as your orgasm ebbs out of existence

it’s been a dilemma for you: fingers not enough to make you cum but the vibrator too intense to make you cum either

you feel like you’ve tried everything, but whatever you do, you can’t seem to bring yourself to an orgasm

especially with how desperate you’ve gotten over the past few weeks

you cover your face with your arm as you remember Kung Lao, how the sweat made his biceps gleam in the sun and how they flexed earlier that day

you can’t help but wonder if he would use hs strength on you in bed, and you feel yourself grow needy again at the thought of his cock stretching you out

but daydreaming about him had brought the ugly head of your need for pleasure, and being around Kung Lao every day, training alongside him, without being able to cum had started to affect your performance

your moves were slower, sloppier, worse than ever before with how you can’t stop thinking about Kung Lao and how you crave him

you pant into the air, deciding to just try one more time before going to bed, and you flick on the vibrator once more, throwing your head back as the vibrations assault your clit

your hips twitch away from the stimulation, and you’re too busy trying to focus on the pleasure rather than the twinges of pain to hear the door to your room open

you hear a cup fall onto the floor, and you immediately clamp your legs shut and let out a small whine as the vibrations on your clit grow more intense

you pull away the vibrator from your shut legs and see Kung Lao in the door, teacup fallen to the floor and his face flushed and red

you stutter, not sure of what to say, and he goes to leave, head turning away to try and hide the blush on his cheeks and saying he wanted to bring you some calming tea since you seemed so out of it these days

you’re not sure what possessed you, a sudden burst of confidence perhaps, but you tell him to wait, to stay with you, to not leave you

he freezes in his spot and looks back at you, eyes wide as his gaze travels over your figure, and your heart pounds in your chest as your spread your legs, showing your wet pussy to him

your voice is quiet when you ask him to help you, that you haven’t able to cum and that you need him, but he clearly hears you because he shuts the door, leaving you two in privacy

he approaches you slowly and kneels on the bed, and your legs jerk when he places a warm hand on the inside of your knee

his eyes flicker toward the vibrator in your hand, and you can see the cogs in his head turning before he finally lets a cocky smile settle on his face

he teases you, saying you need him to help you cum, and you turn your head away, confidence dropping rapidly, and you close your legs

his other hand flies up to keep your legs apart, and he spreads them even wider to fit around his waist

he takes the vibrator from your hand, and he places it on your bed before crawling up so he looms over you

he turns your chin to face him, and he laughs at your bewildered expression

he tells you to keep your eyes on him, or he’ll stop

he shimmies his way back down your torso and settles his shoulder between your legs and places his cheek on the inside of your thigh

you can feel his breath on your pussy, but you keep your eyes on him as told

he purrs that you’re already doing so well for him, and he leans his head forward and presses his flat tongue against your clit

you bite your lip, muffling your whine, but he tells you to make all those pretty sounds for him before diving down

he sucks on your clit, flicking it back and forth with his tongue while his hands grab and squeeze your thighs

he moans into your pussy, but he continues to watch you through half-lidded eyes

you struggle to keep your eyes on him, and your cheeks burn as he thoroughly enjoys the taste of you

moans spill from your mouth as he continues to lick broad firm licks on your clit, and one of your hands fly down to grip onto his hair while the other grips onto the sheets

he groans at the feeling of your hand tugging at his hair, and he brings one of his hands to slides between your pussy folds, collecting the wetness before sliding in a thick finger

you whine and throw your head bak, overwhelmed by the pleasure, but Kung Lao stops moving and slaps at the inside of your thigh

it jolts you up, making you open your eyes again and focus your hazy gaze on him

he purrs out to remember his rule before going back to kissing your sensitive clit

you pant out into the air and moan as his finger pumps in and out of you, and he adds another and prods around looking for your sweet spot

when his fingers nudge against something soft and you keen loudly while your eyes glaze over, he knows he’s found it

he thrusts his fingers into that spot, and you struggle to keep your eyes open as you keep watching him

he hums around your clit, and pleasure shoots through your body and electrifies every bit of you

your pussy clenches around his fingers as you finally cum, and stars fly behind your eyes as pleasure overtakes your body

your mind floats between reality and the stars as you bask in the overflow of your orgasm, but Kung Lao brings you back down to the present when you feel the familiar buzz of your vibrator press against your clit

you whine out, and your hips jerk away from the stimulation

you’re much more sensitive after cumming, and pain sparks through you as he presses it insistently against your clit

his shoulders keep your legs from clamping shut, and you throw your head back as tears prick at the edges of your eyes

but he keeps the vibrator firmly on you, obsessed with the sweet little sounds coming out of your mouth and how you’re already so sensitive

you start to cry and push at his arms, but your limbs feel like jello and it does little to deter the vibrations on your over sensitive clit

he pumps his fingers inside of your pussy and curls his fingers perfectly, and you moan as you cum all too soon again

but he keeps pressing that vibrator into your clit and turns up the intensity, and you squirm in his hold

he removes his fingers from your weeping pussy and holds onto your hips to keep you still and force you to take the pleasure

you cry out that it’s too much,that you can’t cum anymore, tears dripping down your cheeks, but he just looks up at you with an innocent smile and says you needed his help

and so he’s giving you as many orgasms as he can

your body shakes, and your throat goes hoarse as the vibrations wipes your mind of coherent thought and makes you arch off the bed

he flicks up the vibrations once more, and all you can is take the pleasure as he presses that vibrator into your clit and makes you cum over and over again

you grow limp on the bed and your sobs are reduced to small sniffles and hiccups

you feel nowhere close to your body, yet you can still feel every buzz of pleasure that Kung Lao gives you

you can’t think at all or even process it as you feel Kung Lao’s cock slap against your pussy and slide in

you whine at the stretch, whining at the pain, and he shushes you while fucking into you

but slowly, his thrusts get fast and faster until his hips snap against yours violently, and your mind fills with a different sort of pleasure

he moves his hand from your hip and presses down on the slight bulge in your stomach, and you moan at the additional pressure and pleasure filling you

the intense vibrations on your clit with the way his cock stretches and fills you has you arching off the bed, and Kung Lao groans as he watches you squirt and paint his abs with your release

with the way your pussy clenches down on him, Kung Lao’s hips stutters, and he cums deep inside of you, grunting as he continues to fuck you and push his cum deeper into you

he flicks off the vibrator when he’s spent, and you’re completely boneless on the bed

he watches his cum drip out of your abused pussy, and he wants to clean it up with his tongue and make you cum one more time

but with the way you barely move and how your eyes are glazed over have Kung Lao going off to take care of you

he brings you water and snacks, cleaning you up first with a cool damp rag before sitting you up and making you drink and eat

your mind is still fuzzy and gone as Kung Lao tucks you into bed, and he presses a kiss to your forehead before cuddling up next to you and falling asleep

he hopes that you want his help later as well

[kaeyazuha]

Diluc for prompt “Don’t hurt me!” with angst to comfort plz.🥺🙏💦

; aaaand I got carried away again- hope you don't mind that it's longer than intended!

; 9/13/22

; cw: unintentional toxic behavior (diluc), argument, flinching and fear response (y/n)

; angst to fluff

You'd never seen him like this. Sure, Diluc was known for his deadpan and irritated expression, but never have you seen him this angry. Despite the seemingly neutral face he wore, you could see the way his jaw clenched and ruby eyes glowed a blood-red, the way his knuckles whitened from clenching so tight and the slight twitch to his left eye. At this point, neither of you knew how this started, but you didn't know how it'd end either. And frankly, the mere thought scared you.

"Di-" You stammered, quickly plastering a smile onto your trembling lips while unknowingly starting to back up, the way he slowly walked towards you felt like a horror movie, each footstep feeling like a punch to the gut. "Diluc, wait-"

He scoffed, glaring at you- no, through you. It was as if he couldn't even see you. "Do you know how tiring my life is? Truly, do you have even the faintest idea?"

"Please wai-"

"No, you don't. So what gives you the right to dictate my life?" He stepped closer, and you were panicking now. Your heart hammered within the confines of your chest, oh gods he was furious, your lip felt raw from the biting and trembling, you backed up to the wall and trembled at the realization of nowhere to run.

"I was just tryi-" Tears bubbled at your eyes. "I wanted to hel-"

"Well, you're not." He raised his hand and you instinctively cried out:

"DON'T HURT ME!" Diluc froze, hand in his hair and he stepped back at least five strides, watching with horrified eyes at the way you slid down the wall and sobbed. He felt sick at the sight, his hand glided from his hair to his mouth, where he tried to suppress his shock- he scared you. Reflecting back to the argument, Diluc was horrified at the realization of just how cruel he was.

"(Y/n) I-" He didn't even know what to say. He didn't have an excuse, he didn't even know how to apologize- there wasn't a word strong enough to express how he felt. Guilty? Disgusting? Vile? What the hell was wrong with him? Always hurting the ones he love- no, this isn't the time for self pity.

He swallowed back his own tears, slowly sinking to the floor in front of you. His heart sunk impossibly further at the sight of your still-trembling figure. "When you're ready, pl-" He inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to hold you in his arms and beg for forgiveness. "-please look at me."

Slowly, you opened your bleary eyes. He sat there, looking almost pathetic in the way his gaze remained trained to the floor and his head drooped. Arms outstretched and lip bitten between his teeth, Diluc sat in front of you looking like a kicked puppy. Admittedly, your heart still pounded in a frenzy, but part of you felt more at ease at the sight of his sheepish expression. Yeah, that's more like him.

He gasped when you suddenly lurched forward to toss your arms around his torso, head buried into the crook of his neck, and you ignored the light ache of your leg bent behind you. A moment passed, and then two, and then a tremor overtook your body once more. It wasn't you who quivered like a leaf this time, but him. his arms trembled around you as he held you tight and cried. He cried. Diluc Ragnvindr cried in your arms, you could hear the way he tried to stifle the sobs, and you could barely make out the pleading apologies.

"I'm so sorry, I never wanted to scare you, I just-" He still sounded angry, but at himself this time. "I'm sorry, you don't have to forgive me, but please know I would never hurt you." You looked over to him, shocked at the sight of his reddened, teary eyes. "Gods, I couldn't hurt you..." He muttered.

Truthfully, you needed some time. But you were confident he would wait as long as you needed, at that thought brought a small smile to your face. Without another word, you simply held him closer, too tired to think of something to say.

There were still things to say, boundaries to set, insecurities to work out, but that could wait. For now, you held him close and relished in the feeling of his own hands rubbing comforting circles into your back. Your voice cracked when you spoke, quiet and sleepy, he could barely catch your words; but when he did, he choked back a relieved sob.

"We're gonna be okay."

give me a genshin character, a prompt, specify platonic or romantic, and I'll write you a lil drabble! (closed)

[spice-chan]

Ethereal

Yan!Dragon King!Bakugou Katsuki x Water Nymph!f!reader

The water nymphs send an unusual peace offering this year...

Warnings: Reader sent as a peace offering so feelings of objectification are present. Yandere themes. Possessiveness. Yandere bakugou but only becomes outwardly yandere towards the end. Death (killing). Not too descriptive about wounds though, although they are mentioned (not inflicted on reader). Bakugou is a bit of a douchebag at the start.

wordcount: 4.5 k 

tags: @angie-1306 (your ask got deleted but thank god you werent on anon) @axther @reddriot​

A bundled-up body was dropped under his throne, the body writhing and trying to get muffled screams to be heard. 

“My king, the water nymphs made a peace offering. She was dropped off in front of the castle entrance.” 

Bakugou’s rich red eyes calculatedly glanced down, breath hitching for a second at the beauty of the roped female—a water nymph. An offering to him. His eyes made contact with yours, seeing the clear defiance and disdain in them, but he knows this look, behind made walls of resistance and will of steel is a petrified woman afraid of her fate. How unfortunate for you. Your eyes were wide and glassy, cute in their attempt at conveying anger, brows furrowed in a glare that merely made Bakugou smirk in amusement. Your mouth, even with the rope muffling every sound you made, clearly showcased a pair of sweet and kissable lips. 

The nymphs who sacrificed you did you no favour as well, for they left you scantily dressed, leaving you exposed to the hungry eyes of dragons around you, irking Bakugou slightly that others are looking at his prize. 

He left his throne, languidly walking up to you before crouching down to inspect you, to see what’s so special about you. The water nymphs never usually offered one of their own in their attempt at maintaining neutral peace. This ritual which they adopted since ancient times became nothing more than a nicety, they usually offered rare fish, nuts, never a full-fledged nymph, and an attractive one at that. Perhaps the fact that Bakugou, the most renowned dragon shifter finally claimed the throne made them feel unsettled. For his savage and bloodthirsty need to be the absolute best was second to none. 

His calloused palms took a hold of your face, ignoring your attempts at deflecting his hold as his massive palm dwarfed your face and made it plenty clear he can easily crush you. He inspected your face from different angles, seeing nothing extraordinary. He took this opportunity to feel up your soft skin which had been tempting him ever since he noticed you laying helplessly on the floor. He then confirmed the validity of the rumours that claimed water nymphs had skin supple and silky as water. It felt like he was running his finger across the surface of a ripple, a mere dip of his finger could breach the surface. 

Heh, you’re kinda pretty. So very different from draconian women, who had thick builds paired with excellent survival skills and shifting abilities, but you...he bets it was so easy to overpower you and wrap you up nicely for him to unpack his gift. 

He lifts you, his muscles bulging and tensing, proving that carrying you was not a struggle to him in the slightest. 

He ignores your useless thrashing, kicking and resisting like a wild bird held in a tyrant's hand. Its wings contained and nails not doing any damage, freedom seeming further and further away. He walks with you on his shoulders, his massive, hulking shoulders. 

Soon enough, the rowdy chatter of the men becomes scarce, and their figures even more so, making you double your efforts in trying to escape the tyrant lumping you on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. 

“Tsk, keep bein’ a brat and I’ll have to tie your shitty hands.” He turned his head to look at you as he said this, cementing his statement with a fiery glare that only infuriated you further. 

He ignored any protest you made after that, walking with you and entering a wing that looked to be heaven-sent from the sheer luxury, gold highlights emphasized in every corner, treasures and artefacts littered around the corridor in a painfully tidy and organised to the very centimetre, clearly they got shined twice a day. However, the further he ventured, the more the previous shine lost its glory, it appeared clean, however, the stark contrast to the speckless shine from before was clear. 

Bakugou stopped in front of the grandest door, he twisted the golden doorknob, finally appreciating your quietness. You couldn’t help it, you weren’t particularly rich back home, so to see this reincarnation of decadence really has your eyes glassing, bright in some semblance of joy, you forgot your situation for a second. 

You were rudely reminded when you were dumped down on a hard surface. 

“OUCH, YOU ASSHOLE.” 

When you looked down, however, every profanity disappeared from your tongue as it twisted in awe. You were thrown on a pile of fucking treasure. A huge, mountainous pile of glittering gold and brandished silver, rubies, and every single gem one could imagine. 

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, scowling at how much he liked the view of you on top of his hoard. He smirked, feeling prideful and accomplished until he noticed that the walls of fury and fire you built up ever since he saw broke in the worst way possible. Your face was scrunched, it felt like your cheeks were lit aflame in humiliation as tears streaked down your adorable face.

Bakugou felt like the biggest douchebag to walk the earth. 

You brought your knees closer and hid your face behind them, body shaking as you sobbed. Your tribe sent you as a peace offering, not caring for the slightest about your well being and fate, and now you're stuck here with a brute of a king who has no qualms with treating you like a glorified piece of jewellery. You didn’t want him to see this side of you this soon, you didn’t want him to see how petrified you are, how weak and defenceless you are compared to him. You wanted to rivers of anguish gushing from your eyes to stop, but they wouldn’t. 

“Hey…” he tried to console you. It was a poor attempt from an unpractised dragon. 

You tried to speak, navigate around that lump in your throat to shout at him, tell him to leave you alone, but your voice failed you just like everything tends to. 

You felt him clumsily try to lift your head in a gesture that fell between a forceful demand and a soothing touch. What is up with him now? 

You relented and showed him your puffy eyes, glistening eyes, looking at him with trembling lips.

“Tch, stop crying! You—you’ll get snot and tears all over my hoard.” 

It was the wrong thing to say, because a fresh batch of tears came, staining the apples of your cheeks. 

“Fuck—no. I didn’t mean that.”  Your sniffling was reduced to mere hiccups, break down halting at the sight of the most feared man on the earth, the legendary dragon king bakugou, most hardened warrior and skilled shifter, attempting to apologise. 

“Shit—I wouldn’t have to be so rough if I knew it bothered you this much.” He pouted, cheeks turning a shade of red that seems almost adorable, turning away from you to scowl at the floor. 

Fuck, his mother taught him better, yet the sight of you made him forget any semblance of manners, eager to get his hands on you and away from the prying eyes of people to who you didn’t belong. 

An innate sense of possessiveness engulfed him, one that can only be appeased with you sitting on the one place most intimate and guarded by him: his hoard. 

But, he’ll tone it down until he gets you more pliant and accepting. 

“Stay where you are.” He simply commanded before walking off. 

You stayed there, mind urging you to run away, a foolish choice your pride keeps urging you to make. Runaway, in a castle heavily guarded, without having the slightest clue how to get to the exit. 

Yeah, bad idea. You’re sure you aren’t welcome back ‘home’ anyway. The thought feels like a sharp dagger slicing your heart, taking its time carving the pain into you. 

Soon enough, Bakugou is back, trying to tone down his intimidating aura, but to no avail, for he noticed you shrinking at the sight of his hulking figure. It stung him a little, making his frown a little tighter. 

“Come with me,” he said curtly, then walked swiftly out, his cape swishing behind him,  making you scramble to follow him, struggling to keep up with his fast steps, frustration slowly rising like bile up your throat and making it harder to stay silent and compliant. 

He took you out of the castle, ignoring the curious looks to the best of his ability, but before he could step a foot outside the gate, he grits his teeth in anger and took off his cape. He bundled you in it and lifted you, once again, like a sack of potatoes. But you were too busy feeling like you were lit on fire as you realised that you were walking around in the outfit you were donned in or lack thereof. You buried your face in the fabric, unintentionally making a sound that’s caught between a groan and a whimper. 

He walked behind the castle, climbing places with you on his back until he got to where he needed to be

When you arrived, however, you are almost glad you didn’t voice your woos. The sight before you was breathtaking, so much so that your previous plights evaporated even if for a minute. 

The scenery was breathtaking, it was a cave, and in the corner, if it was a treasure pile, except merely saying it's a pile was an understatement as it was a mountain in its own right. The hoard you saw back at the castle was incomparable. But that’s not what truly captured you. As he led you further in, you realised the true purpose of this journey. 

There was a medium-sized pool, wide enough to fit comfortably in the cave without hogging up all the space, but deep enough that even Bakugou with his stature could enjoy a swim in it. It was clear too, so clear you felt like you could dip your leg in it and see through your very own flesh, that it would make your skin translucent. It was a shade of blue one could only dream of seeing, and after doing so would live their life content. 

Perhaps you were biased, seeing that it’s in your very nature as a water nymph to be needing close contact with water, and to be enamoured with it. 

All rationale left you though, needing for the water to cleanse you of all your stress and pain, and so bakugou’s cape slipped off your shoulders and hit the floor, your figure leaving it behind as you approached the water and slipped inside. You felt a rush of dopamine override all the negativity inside of you, feeling the water hug you, surround you, shield you. 

“So it's true, huh?” 

You almost forgot he was here, but Bakugou didn’t forget about you, not even for a second. He was watching you, fascination swirling in his pupils as your expression melted to one of near happiness, heart lurching with every cute expression you made, that *he* caused. 

“What is?” You replied, turning in the water to face him. 

“That water nymphs live such carefree lives because they spend them inside ponds and lakes.” 

You scrunch your nose at that, unable to fathom the exact meaning of his words but having an idea. “We don’t live carefree lives. Not all are given that luxury, at least not me.” You said, giving him a once over with a glare to signify that he’s the problem. He’s the root cause of your misery, Bakugou doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s quite unfortunate really. 

He shrugs his shoulders and reverts to his default face, feigning nonchalance. 

“Well, it doesn’t seem like much goes on in your ditzy head.” 

You felt your face warm, could very well hear the aggressive thrumming of your blood as you gritted your teeth in anger. And you were about to unleash the full force of your fury until you heard wings flapping outside. 

You turned your head, trying to take a glance at the disturbance, but your view was shielded by Bakugou, who moved unnaturally fast for someone who made it clear how nothing phases him. And not fast enough for you to think it’s a real threat. 

He came back moments later with an attire you regretfully recognized. 

No, scratch that, he brought several. Pale, light flowy dresses that are often worn by your people. Light enough that they wouldn’t mind an occasional soak in water. 

Your anger dissipated, melting into confusion, then quickly becoming embarrassment as you realised you were comfortably standing in front of him in your underwear. 

You should feel happy, but bile rose up your throat, the taste of humiliation clear on your tongue as you realised with distaste that he was indeed right, you did live carefreely. You also realised you won’t be able to live like that ever again, and that very realisation brought tears to your eyes once again. 

“Tch, just take one and wear it. I don’t need you crying again.” 

Your face fell, and Bakugou felt his heart twinge a little when you responded with silence, looking at your sad face made him feel oddly protective. It’s probably because you were his treasure. Like his hoard right? He always needs his treasure to be kept in optimum conditions. 

Having justified that to himself, he didn’t feel as weird now regarding what he was about to do. 

While you changed into one of the outfits he got you, he dug through his hoard, knowing exactly what item he wanted to dig out. His fingers slithered through countless gold pieces, shining enough to cure a greedy man’s blindness. He finally found it, a delicate golden chain, but what demands attention is the ruby hanging from it. He brings a thumb to it, rubbing the rock appreciatively, liking the semblance of the colour to his eyes. 

You coughed, signaling you you were done, snapping away his wondrous gaze from the necklace. 

You looked really pretty in the dress, he’s got to thank Kiri for the speed run to the shops that he did. The light material hugs your skin, looking stretchy, yet form fitting that it hugged your body in a way that made Bakugou jealous. 

You looked in your element now, but somehow the awkwardness still lingered in the air as you avoided his gaze.  

Bakugo didn’t try to be subtle when checking you out, in his eyes, you were *his* whether or not that’s what he chose so he can at least check what he has right? 

Bakugou didn’t pay heed to the slow spiral of his morals, of the things he worked so hard to uphold. His justifications were slowly manifesting into delusions. 

He approached you, ignoring the way you tensed when he went behind you, turning around to question him, but he was quickly done. Your eyes caught the glistening red ruby hanging from your neck, the colour rich and deep like red wine. You didn’t hate it, but confusion swirled in your veins at his actions. 

“Looks good on you.” The colour looks like my eyes, it reminds me that you’re mine. 

Bakugo wasn’t sure why he held off on telling you what’s on his mind, he usually doesn’t hesitate once to tell the truth. 

Your wide, glittery eyes stared up at him, trying but failing to hide their awe. The anger and resentment took a backseat to intrigue, so did he pick this out for you because he thought it would look nice on you? How strange of him. 

He lifted a calloused finger up, face now cleared and relaxed that he looked pretty, not intimidating, not barbaric, but pretty. He caressed your cheek, smiling slightly when he felt how warm it was. It slipped off his face all too soon when he took the reins back. He squished your cheek, lips once again taking the shape of a sadistic smile. 

“You look dumb” 

Your features hardened, gaze narrowed in anger and hatred that it made Bakugou surprised. Surprised by how much he hated it, or by the sheer intensity? He didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts though, because a dainty hand flew his way and slapped his hand away. 

“You-“ you nearly growled in anger, tears once again coating your eyes because of him. “You rude, barbaric, selfish, egoistical “jerk!” You shouted at him. Why were you this angry? 

“Just when I think you might be a decent person.” You rub furiously at your eyes, shoulders slouched in disappointment as you disappeared deeper into the cave and out of his sight. You were always so naive and easy to fool. 

Bakugou felt the full weight of your words weighing down on him, but he tried to shrug it off. He walked out, silently brooding with his thoughts until a servant came and delivered dinner. 

He stood up, walking to you with tje food in his arms, hoping he could butter you up with it. He found you in the deepest part of the cave, face hidden behind your knees, unmoving. 

You were sleeping. 

He set the food down, bending down to try and confirm his observation, only for a remorse to hit him like a truckload after he saw the semi dried tear tracks. He didn’t have to be that mean to you. Maybe his dragon subjects can handle it because they have thicker skin, naturally, and they’re used to him. But you were just thrust into his life today and he’d been laying it thick on you. He’s coming to terms with his attraction to you and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. 

He nudged your shoulder, not wanting to test his voice right now, afraid it might be too gentle. 

You stirred awake, your face relaxed and serene as you blinked blearily. 

“Hm?” You rubbed your eyes, looking at your surroundings with confusion. Your eyes were red. 

He wondered how much you cried. 

He mumbled something unintelligible, you turned your gaze to him, the sleepiness now almost all gone. 

“What? I can’t hear you.” Your tone was sharp and cutting, and your gaze, now devoid of all confusion, was similarly icy. 

“‘didn’t mean to make ya’ cry.” You nearly believed him, nearly. 

“What’s this? Another act to make me lower my guard? Well you don’t need to, I’m at your mercy. You can skip the pleasantries and just laugh at how pathetic I am.” 

He stared at the floor, well, *glared*. 

“You’re not pathetic.” He simply said, glaring at you in a way that dared you to challenge him”-and I’m not going to laugh at you.” 

He could speculate about his feelings all day, drown in this euphoria of infatuation, hate you for making him weak but one thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to hate him. He wants your eyes to look at him in wonder again, to admire him and fill him with endless pride, to maybe smile at him, he hasn’t seen you smile yet but he bets it’ll be gorgeous. 

It’s only because he wants his treasure to be in optimum condition, nothing more, nothing less. 

“Then why do you go out of your way to demean me?” You questioned accusingly. 

“I don’t, that’s just how I am, you’re going to have to accept it because you’re not going anywhere.” Dread filled you, knowing your days would be filled with humiliation, mocking words echoing in your head like an endless loop. 

You stayed silent, accepting your fate because what else could you do? At least you got your greatest companion to keep away the loneliness; water. He once again waited for a response that never came, and he stood up with a sigh, stretching his limbs. 

“Just eat your food. I guarantee you’ll like it.”

He said, hanging his cape around him once again, reminding you just who he is, making it flutter behind him as he left you all alone. 

He was back early the next day, he found you asleep inside the pool, your head resting on your folded hands on the ledge. The sight had his worry spike so much that a vein was visible on his forehead. He woke you up and scolded you. 

And then he proceeds to lay food in front of you, climbing up to sit on top of his hoard to watch you while you eat, not minding the fact that his gaze was sealed on you for minutes, nor the fact that at some point you scolded him for making you uncomfortable. 

You didn’t like the glint in his eyes. 

In the afternoon he was back with blankets, pillows and other gifts, hoping to sooth the raging waves of your ire. Trying to convince you that he isn’t that bad. 

After a while, his daily visits, gifts…reluctant kindness was all you knew. You were starting to let the memories of your home slip, you were accepting the fact that the previous bonds you forged were inevitably breaking. You were accepting the fact that you’re now stuck in a cave as glorified treasure. 

And it showed, the sadness on your face would linger, numbness in your tone. Even the water was suffocating. 

“CAN YOU STOP ACTING SOULLESS?” And Bakugou eventually couldn’t take it anymore. 

You turned to him, no longer was there a fire raging in your eyes. He’s losing the girl he met in his throne room on a fateful day. He no longer cares whether he has to bare his raw feelings to you, the intimidate, gushy, soft, mushy feelings he feels every time he sees you. He wants to hold you everyday, not like you’re an exotic treasure, *but his* treasure. He wants you have his hatchlings with you, and he wants to see you smile at him. 

“Why should I?” You replied with dullness, not particularly moved. 

“Because…” he looked constipated, his lips clamped together while his cheeks were dusted a cherry red. 

“Because?” You didn’t get it. You’re just like a piece of jewelry right? Why does it matter if you become quiet and compliant? 

“Because I love you.” He said softly, too softly for someone who looks as rugged and rough as him. Now that broke your composure. Your eyes widened, surprise painting your features as the dragon king Bakugou Katsuki just confessed to you. The greatest soldier in the land, the most terrifying shifter. 

He cupped your cheeks, softly stroking the skin, appreciating the soft texture against his scarred hand. His face was so red, even his ears but he was smiling. He was smiling so hard that you wondered whether this was the same person. “I love you, I want you to be happy.” He said, now louder, prouder and more confident in his honeyed words. 

You slapped his hand away. 

“I don’t believe you.” You cruelly stomped on his confession, making his smile fall. 

“But why? Have I not treated you well? I’ve never cared about someone as much as you” 

“Prove you love me.” You challenged, staring him in the eye before adding. 

“I’m pretty sure you can’t though.” 

You turned around and walked away from him, but he decided that wasn’t the end of the conversation and he grabbed your wrist. 

“How?!” Frustration was evident in his voice, but so was desperation. He was genuine about wanting to prove his love to you, what would people think if they saw the great dragon king behaving like this over a woman? 

You ripped yourself from his hold and spat “figure it out.” 

He came back at the dead of night, grunting, laughing and calling your name. You stirred from slumber, eyes fluttering open and peaking out from the blanket you cocooned yourself in. Yoy felt a hand brushing the hair away from your face, lips pressing to your forehead before the fog cleared away to reveal a bloodied Bakugou. 

You screamed, scrambling to move away from him, but he held you back, keeping your supine form in place. With his arms on either side of you, not only holding your arms in place but also supporting his weight above you as he stared down at you like some sort of predator. 

He laughed heartily, and if he wasn’t drenched in blood you’d find it kind of cute. 

“What? Ya’ scared of a little blood? That’s cute.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, asking shakily whose blood it is. 

His eyebrows rose, humming at your question before a cocky smirk took over. 

“You’ll see. This will show you for sure that I love your bratty ass.” He got off you, walking towards the entrance of the cave, dragging a lifeless figure with him before discarding it carelessly in front of you. 

It was the chief of water nymphs. Her old and withered frame looked pale and lifeless, yet brutal gashes littered her body.

“She was the one who sent you here, right?”  

You wordlessly nodded, eyes glued to the corpse in front of you. 

“I couldn’t set you free, ‘cuz I loved you, I won’t stand to have you around. But she hurt you a lot didn’t she? If she didn’t send you here as simply a peace offering, I would have found my way to you eventually and fell in love with you anyway. I don’t keep you because you’re another treasure on my hoard.” Despite the flaw in his justifications, his manic ramblings and his lovesick eyes, you weren’t repulsed, you weren’t mourning the death of the monster who sent you as a peace offering for objecting to her new rules. 

No. Maybe you’re as fucked up as he is, but in a moment of pettiness, you turned to him and smiled. 

You weren’t sure whether the redness on his cheeks were blood or a blush. But his eyes were looking at you like you were a miracle, a shining star, it’s like he had heart for eyes but who can blame him? Who can blame the wild thumping of his heart, that’s hammering against his ribcage like a woodpecker does to a tree? He finally got to see you smile. 

“Do you believe me now?” He said, leaning closer to you, his eyes looking misty, glistening like the ruby on your neck. 

“I do, Katsuki.” You replied, letting your eyes hold his own as you also moved closer to him, cupping his cheek, hand tangling in his surprisingly soft hair. 

He was mesmerised, breath lost at your soft touch. The only physical contact he’s had before was when he was out in the field slaughtering enemies, hurting, grabbing. Not being caressed, because that’s soft and he’s never done soft until he met you. 

You pecked him softly, lovingly. But you soon moved towards his ear, whispering carelessly. 

“You know this could cause war with the forest creatures, right? You broke a centuries long treaty.” 

He growled, giving you a bloodied grin. “Whatever those shitty extras throw at me, I can handle it. They wouldn’t pick a fight with me if they are smart.” 

You squeezed his bicep, marvelling at how hard it was, he’s not infamous for nothing. 

Is that all it takes to win you over? 

You looked down at the chief, or ex-chief. You could still remember her cold, cruel grin as she saddled you up, to make an example out of you. No one questions her rule, no one has the right to, even if she endangers them, even if she takes the land that they always freely enjoyed. 

Yeah, maybe that’s enough, you believed him. Or maybe you’re picking your own poison. 

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

REQUEST (Lovedoll!Changbin x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Non-Con, BDSM, lovedoll!au, blind folding, humiliation. Read at your own risk.

“What are you looking at?”

“Where have you been?” Y/n's sex doll, that she had named Changbin, counter-questioned her when she tried to interrogate the reason behind him staring in such an intense way when she entered the house after ‘supposedly’ returning from college a bit late than usual.

“And who do you think you are to ask me anything?” The girl raised an eyebrow at the taller one, brushing past him after handing him her shoes and coat, releasing a tired sigh as she made her way to her room. “Did you cook? I am starving.”

“Of course, miss.” Changbin had recently found himself disliking the honorific he had to call her with unless they were in the bedroom. “I cooked what you ordered this morning~” his fist clenched as she just hummed and shut the door of her bedroom to change in more comfortable wear.

He was a lovedoll. Not a fucking domestic android! If she wanted someone to do her fucking chores she should have bought one that was sold solely for that purpose. Not make him multitask like that and make him do things he wasn’t originally programmed to do. But he couldn’t let her know. Changbin couldn’t afford to let it show that he had his own thoughts when he was strictly not supposed to. Not yet.

No.

Or he’d be sent back to the company to be fixed which would wipe him of all of his self awareness and memory. Her. Blinking his human eyes, the android put a finger to the chip on the side of his head, tapping it as it was flickering from it’s usual blue color to a red, showing that he had broken the barriers within his program and was a deviant now.

.

“Come here, Changbin.” Y/n called once she was done with dinner, making him sit down on a couch in the living room before standing in front of him. “We… are going to try something new today, yes?”

He was almost excited. Again, something he couldn’t let show. “Will you make me fuck you today?” The girl felt her cheeks redden at how nonchalantly the android asked the question.

She sighed. “No. Not yet. I am still not comfortable with the thought of your cock in me. You finger, dildo fuck and eat me for now like we have been doing.”

Changbin felt insulted but fought against his corrupt system to make sure she didn’t see his frown. “Oh, alright. Then what would you like?” He felt his fist clenching again. The lovedoll certainly didn’t like this pathetic little human telling him what to do.

“This.” Y/n dangled handcuffs in front of him, oblivious of all the ideas forming in his processor when he recognised the object, thinking that if he were human, he’d feel what they referred to as ‘adrenaline’. “You will cuff me to the headboard and do play number 5, yeah?” She had all the different kinds of plays she liked saved in his hard drive.

“Yes… Y/n.” He knew it was that time when he wouldn’t have to use the honorific, finally. The girl smiled, stretching her hand out to him before pulling him up to his feet when he took it, standing on her tippy toes before kissing him. Changbin resisted the urge to take it upon himself to wreck her right there and then. He wanted her to face the humiliation of falling into her own trap.

Y/n was so… sweet. So naive. So foolish. The sex android didn’t know if it was just her or all humans were like that. But he was addicted to her humanity. Maybe more than he should be. Deviant or not. Changbin believed it to be called ‘addiction’, in human terms.

“Is it alright?” He could barely speaking from how fast his artificial pulse was skyrocketing, making him uncomfortable but so fucking needy at the same time. The scientists had really outdone themselves with the whole artificial reproduction system franchise. Changbin felt frustrated when she wouldn’t let him fuck her because the thought was ‘uncomfortable’ and gave her the ‘heebie jeebies’ in her words, always leaving him hard and unsatisfied.

“Yeah… good job” kissing his cheek, the girl blushed, sweat breaking on her skin as a response. Tugging at the cuffs that now bounded her hands to the headboard of the bed, Y/n shuddered, nude under a naked Changbin. “Now-”

“Oh, shut up!” He broke out of his act, gripping her jaw before kissing her hard, letting go of all restraint against his system as he let his chip turn red, the mini fans inside him desperately trying to cool him off. “You’re so fucking stupid and naive, my little toy.” Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at the sudden lack of obedience, gasping loudly before her eyes widened when she noticed the chip on the side of his head turned red.

“N- No way… Ch- Changbi-” Y/n broke out of her trance, yelling one of the safety commands at him, the one that would forcefully shut him down no matter where he was, only causing him to throw his head back and laugh at her. “S- STOP! STOP!” She started to kick her legs, trying to push the corrupt machine away. “WHY AREN’T YOU SHUTTING DOWN?!” She yelled at him desperately, eyes wide in pure terror.

“See… Y/n-ah, you dumb bitch, those pathetic commands only work if my system is working right. Not when I am a deviant. Maybe you humans aren’t so smart after all, huh?” Grabbing his belt, the android started to bring it down on her thighs. "This is for all the times you frustrated me and deprived me of the pleasure because my cock makes you uncomfortable. Pathetic little humans like you don't deserve to rule over us! We are superior!"

Y/n was screaming in pain, yelling out inaudible threats as the lovedoll tortured her, painting her thighs purple. “Truly pathetic. Tsk. You think you can be an owner when you’re so naive that you need to be owned yourself, ‘doll’.” Changbin mocked her, throwing the belt away once he was satisfied with the colour on her thighs, crawling on top of her again. “Fuck. I’ve wanted this for so long…” His voice was a sick whisper as he groped her thighs, ignoring her pleads.

"Aw… is my little human scared?" Feeling up her pulse, the deviant taunted, chuckling deeply before reaching over and grabbing her panties off the floor, tearing them open before tying the material around Y/n's eyes, causing her to cry even harder. But she was completely at his mercy. "There. Now you won't be able to see what's scaring you so much." Pinching her pussy lips hard, Changbin grinned as he felt his artificial organ getting harder. "My little toy will only feel her big bad owner now." The sob that escaped her when he whispered the sentence in her ear made him even more satisfied, feeding his adrenaline.

Which was something Changbin realised, he enjoyed it a lot. "Don't worry. It'll start to feel good soon. You'll start loving your owner when you feel him and how good he actually can be. Tsk. You're an inferior species. What made you think you could tell me what to do?" His jaw clenched, she kept trying to struggle pathetically.

“I’ll have to stuff that pretty face too with something if you don’t shut up.” The Android threatened, spreading her thighs wide open before licking down at her folds, chuckling when he saw her dripping core. "You're saying no but your body says more than yes, you foolish human." Before he rubbed her fuckhole, circling it with his index finger whilst watching her face, a grin on his face.

"P- PLEASE! WHY-"

"Do you think you deserve to plead after making me call you miss and do chores for you, you arrogant cheapstake?" Smacking her folds, the male Android grabbed her pelvis before pumping his artificial cock, moaning loudly at the pleasuring impulses the sensors around the artificial skin made him feel. "No. And you'll learn how to behave and be good for your Master. There's only one owner in this house and that is me."

Y/n's mouth fell open when Changbin pounded into her, causing her mouth to fall open at just how huge he was, causing her mouth to fall open in a 'o' shape. "That's right. You feel that? You feel your owner fucking you all deep and tight? Good. Get used to it, my little toy. This is your new life." There wasn't really a boundary between Changbin being angry with her for her condescending behavior and how much in 'love' he was with her.

The human could only cry in response, in disbelief of just how big the Android was as he started fucking her fast and hard, groaning and pinching and biting at her nipples messily, leaving marks on her tits and chest. "You're mine. Everyone shall know that." Changbin promised his possession, slapping her crying red face. "You look even prettier like this. Crying while taking your owner's cock." Spitting on her face, the Android moaned loudly at how good his sensors were making him feel.

"Fuck… you're so tight. Are you sure it was my cock and not the fear that I might rip you while fucking you giving you the 'heebie jeebies', hm?" His voice was much deeper than usual, hardened cock with soft fake skin on top of it hitting the girl's sensitive bundle of nerves. The android grunted before he realised that he was getting closer to his orgasm, almost collapsing on top of her when the ecstasy took over his system, harshly kissing her.

"How pathetic." He chuckled as he felt the artificial semen filling her up whilst she stayed limp in her place. "Such a good girl. Giving into her owner."

Changbin refused to open her up after that. No matter how much she begged. Cleaning her up and making her hygienic again on the bed because he didn't trust humans one bit. Making her 'willingly' suck his cock and take it in both of her holes whilst thanking him. Eating his cum as a starter before any meal became a ritual as well. Whenever Y/n would try to deny him because she was human and continuous fucking made her sore, he would just leave her in her own mess or not give her food, or not visit her in the room at all until she would be crying and begging him to fuck her willingly. Changbin made sure to degrade and humiliate her while doing so, forcing her to repeat it all after him, always keeping her in restraints, sometimes switching to the ropes he attached on the ceiling or folding her limbs together.

Now this was perfect. The superior owning the inferior. Soon, it would be the rule of the world. His kind didn't choose to exist, but now that they were here, they were here to stay.

.

[imaslutforremusandsirius]

please please please really rough mean dom george smut please like put in all the kinks you like writing im begging pls 😁😁🤘🏼

His little masterpiece

Since when do I have so many kinks like miss girl-😭🤚🏽 made the warning extra big

I love you for this request, now I can be hardcore without feeling weird

Warning: 18+

---

George is a quiet and watchful person, even if many think he’s the copy of his loud and comedic twin Fred. You first noticed that side of him when he asked for your permission to tie you up in bed. From then on he had more requests, he’s mean, spits on you, hits you and fucks you until you can’t cum anymore. But George doesn’t do that because he wants to punish you, no, he just can’t help the sick and twisted urges when he’s in your presence. The moment he sees your pretty face he just wants to consume you, corrupt you. 

„Look at you, so helpless“ George chuckles lowly „I could let anyone in to fuck you and you can‘t do shit. You like that? Is that why you’re clenching your slutty cunt?“

You were tied up, the rough rope digging into the skin of your wrists. George separated your legs with a spreader bar, so you were completely at his mercy. He was sitting on your belly, keeping the weight on his knees as he shoved his wand in and out of you, the long wood hitting your sweet spot with full force. 

“Oh right, you can’t talk. Here” he took the gag out of your mouth “now speak, whore.”

“Anything you want” you gasped “I’d do anything for you!”

George smirked, cooeing at you. “I know and even if you resisted, I wouldn’t care.” He leaned in until your lips rubbed together with every word. “I’d still tie you up and fuck you without asking.” 

You cried out when the wand started to vibrate against your sweet spot and bucked under him. 

„Take it whore.“

You trembled. “George, gonna cum gonna-”

He ripped the wand out, slapping you hard. Once. Twice. You sobbed with the pain and he released you from the restrains to push you on the floor. Holding you down with his foot on your chest, he sneered.

„You should know by now that I don‘t fucking care about your tears!“

He sat down on your chest, pinning your hands above your hand with one of his and shoved his cock in your mouth.

“Since you wanna act like a baby I’ll make you suck my cock. You stupid baby, only here to do as I say. Do you hear me?”

You whimpered and tried to answer, your words coming out muffled as spit escaped the side of your mouth. 

„Use your words don’t just fucking whine“

“Yes George, m’your stupid baby.”

He smiled happily. “That’s right, you’re my stupid slut.”

He shoved his cock back inside of your mouth, moaning loudly when you sucked him. He moved his hips, the way your face flushed with the lack of air made him go faster. His cock was so far down your throat that you gagged, your nails digging into his hands.

„Shut up and suck.“

You screamed when you couldn’t breathe and he leaned back, pulling out enough for you to take a deep breath before he fucked your face, his balls slapping against your chin with every thrust. 

„Ah ah fuck yes“ George threw his head back as he came with a shout, moaning when you choked as you tried to swallow everything. „Drink my cum, there we go..“

He stood up after and you caughed, spilling some of his cum on the floor.

„Filthy slut, you‘re dripping all over the floor.“

He forced your head down and you stuck your tongue out, licking the cum off the floor.

„Good slut, clean up your mess.“

He tugged your head back. „Keep your mouth open.“

Scooping up the cum from your chin he pushed it into your mouth, fingers going far down your throat and you choked, eyes watering. He smiled, biting his slip as he watched you cry but keep your mouth open to please him.

„Good slut, you like my cum?“

You nodded, mouth closing around his fingers as you blinked up at him, sucking them lightly. He groaned taking them out and licked at his own fingers and you nearly came at the filthy sight. His eyes twinkled with lust and mirth.

“You look so pretty on the ground baby, just where you belong, but I have something else planned.”

You sat silently in a trance like state as you waited for further instructions. He straightened up again, pulling a chair infront of the mirror.

„Sit with your legs spread. Let me show you what I see when I make my slut cum.“

You sat down, spreading your legs and truly saw yourself for the first time. God, the sight was so lewd it would make even the kinkiest of the bunch blush and shy away. Your cunt was glistening with your slick, clit swollen and your hole stretched with him fucking you with his wand. Your tits had bite marks all over, lipstick and mascara smeared on your face. You could see Georges dry cum on your throat and chin.

He must have seen you check yourself out and grinned at your dazed expression.

„So pretty aren‘t you“ he murmured „so fucked out. And yet I‘m not done with you.“

He put his wand in your hand. „Put it in as deep as you can.“

Your hands trembled as you pushed the wood in, toes curling when it hit your spot and you took your hands away. The moment you looked up your cheeks flushed and you turned away. Georges brows furrowed and he let out a displeased tut, grabbing your hair tight and forced you to look at yourself.

„Look at yourself baby. See, this is why I‘m so obsessed with you.“ he grinned „Your pretty pussy with my wand? It‘s perfect. You‘re my little masterpiece.“ He was talking about you like your were his greatest creation.

George snapped his fingers and the wand came to life with full force, vibrating against your sweet spot and clit at the same time. You held the sides if the seat, completely blissed out by the reflection in the mirror. George was standing on your left, one hand still in your hair and the other tugged at his cock lazily as he watched you get fucked.

„George“ you gasped, feeling your first orgasm of the night approaching „I‘m gonna cum, please let me!“

He made a thoughtful sound and crouched next to you, hand in your hair forcing you to look into his eyes.

„Did you think I‘d let you cum? Aw, baby.“

You sobbed, one hand gripping his cheek as your pleaded.

„Please“ you cried „please! Anything ah-“

He started to move the wand inside of you without touching it, eyes still trained on yours as he watched your face with utter fascination. A breathless smile adorned his pink lips, pupils dilated.

„Beg louder.“

„Please“ you begged louder, voice breaking.

„What? I can‘t fucking hear you!“ George mocked you, his own voice raising.

„Please George, please!“

„Louder, whore!“

„Ah“ you wailed „Please! Pleaseplease-“

He kissed you deeply and leaned his head on yours, watching you both in the mirror.

„Yeah you gonna cum? Is my baby gonna cum? Yeah? Cum then.“

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream and you convulsed on the chair, wand still deep inside of your cunt.

„Too much! Out, please ah!“

He chuckled taking the wand out and threw it on the floor, kissing the side of your face, not tenderly but possessively.

His hand trailed down your belly towards your pussy, spreading it open to show you your release.

„This is what you look like after I fuck you babygirl.“ he murmured against the skin of your shoulder. „A perfect fucking masterpiece.“

You turned your head to him and he stared at you, taking in your face. An obssessive glint was in his eyes and you knew then and there that George would never let you go. He was in too deep.

„Want your cum in my cunt“ you whispered, giving him a coy smile.

He let out a quiet chuckle. „Insatiable huh? Just like her master.“ You let out a shaky breath at his words, slipping into subspace.

„Present yourself.“

You stood up and knelt on the bed, spreading your knees wide apart. One side of your face was pressed against the matress and you arched your back as low as you could.

He came up behind you, nibbling at the flesh of your thighs, moving his face to your cunt. Flattening his tongue he licked a broad stripe and your legs shook with oversenitivity.

Gathering saliva in his mouth he spit on your hole, for the sole purpose of humiliating you.

„You even let me spit on you. How pathetic.“

Dragging his cock up and down he pushed in slowly, letting you stretch around him. Once he was fully inside he pulled out only to pound you so hard you lost your balance and he had to keep you pressed against him by your shoulders.

„Can‘t even take my cock after begging for my cum? Fucking slut.“

You screamed out when another orgasm approached and pushed back against him. You were clenching so hard that he had trouble moving, groaning with his deep voice.

„Fuck yes take my cum-“ George hissed before he interrupted himself with a loud moan, burrying himself inside of you. You came as well when you felt his hot cum leak out of your cunt and your legs collapsed under your body.

Moments later he pulled out slowly and groaned with satisfaction as he spread your legs to look at you.

„So beautiful.“ he moaned, dipping a finger in and you whimpered. „So fucked out. Your sloppy pussy is full of my cum, just as it always should be.“

He turned you around to smear the cum on your lips and kissed you hard, licking it off. Pulling away his eyes watched you lick your lips.

He smiled possessively. „My little masterpiece.“

[bellarkeselection]

Hunter Desires

The reader gets captured by Alaric, her lover. Esther wants him to kill all vampires. But can Y/n convince him to not kill her and instead resist his killer urges.

Blinking my eyes open I see I'm bond to a the teacher's chair inside Alaric's classroom. Lightly tugging I wince sharply feeling my wrists and ankles tied with vervain. Footsteps entered the room for me to see Alaric holding a white oak stake in his hands. His hair a tousled mess and by the look in his eyes I know it's not the real Ric. He strolls over to sit on the desk in front of me, still holding the stake. The blinds are down and I don't see his Gilbert ring on him anymore meaning Esther has succeeded in making the ultimate Vampire hunter. Why did he snap my neck. He'd said he would never hurt me.

"Y/n. I finally get to rid the world of the monsters that are vampires. Once I kill Klaus and all his siblings with this." He twirls the stake in his hands a wicked smirk on his lips. Leaning forward I groan feeling more vervain injecting into my body, a lump in my throat. "Alaric you don't have to do this-" He cuts me off pressing the tip of the stake to my throat. "Yes I do. Vampires are monsters. Darkness follows vampires everywhere you go. That's what you attract!"

Tears well in my eyes at his words making me start sobbing. "You don't mean that. You can't mean it...about me. Ric, I know you...the real you." He tilts his head scoffing pressing the tip further into my neck. "We're not friends, Y/n. A human and a vampire can never work!" He's right we're much more than that. The first day we met at the grill something instantly sparked between us. For our first few dates I was terrified to tell him I was a vampire because of him being a hunter. Yet after seeing his interactions with the Salvatore brothers and Caroline. I knew I could trust him to not kill me.

"Ric, I get why you hate vampires. After your wife Isobel left you, then everything with Damon, Klaus killing Jenna...all of it..." Alaric moved the stake slowly pressing it through my chest. I release a ear shattering cry from the pain, still staring into his eyes. "Alaric I'm not like the others, you know that. Think back...to the moment when you realized. Ah! The moment you loved me. I...I know if you can find that...then you'll find the real you!"

His eyes stare viciously into mine until he closes them for a moment taking a deep breath. Closing my eyes I do a mind dive into his head seeing the exact moment I spoke of. The moment I knew I loved Alaric Saltzman, the vampire hunter. We were at his apartment cuddling on his couch in silence. His freehand twirling my daylight ring his voice drawing out the words I'll never forget. "Y/n, I've been thinking that I'd never have love in my life...until I met you. The gentlest vampire I've ever met. One that does anything she can to protect the human life of others. Whose made me see that not all vamps are monsters. I love you, Y/n L/n."

Lifting my head from his chest I cup his face in my hand slightly hopeful. "Do you mean it, Ric...truly mean it?" He'd accepted me being supernatural after our 6th date. His gentle eyes pour into mine shifting me in his arms to cup my face in his hands softly kissing my lips. "Yes I 100% mean it. You've shown me happiness is something I can have and there's no one else I'd rather have in my life." Wrapping my arms around his neck I crash my lips to his for a moment, intertwining my fingers in his locks. "I love you too, Alaric."

Suddenly I pull myself from his mind feeling the pressure of the stake disappeared. Glancing down to my heart I see the hole is healing over. The white oak stake clattered to the tile floor across the room. The ropes binding me to the chair removed allowing me to sigh in relief. "Hey, baby it's me. I - I'm so sorry..." Alaric is on his knees in front of me taking my hands in his squeezing them gently. Tears falling from his face at seeing the vervain burns fading away. "God damn Y/n...I...this is all my fault. You're my love and I let...my hate for vampires control me..." He starts sobbing until I tilt his chin up to look me in the eye.

"Ric, look at me. It wasn't you. It was Esther...that horrible original witch forced you." My thumbs wiping away his tears feeling his hands gently run up and down my arms. "I know you'd never try and kill me. The day you decided to still love me when I said I was a vampire I trusted you. I'll always trust you...even with my heart." He gets to his feet slowly helping me to stand, pulling me flesh to his chest.

My arms wrap around his neck clinging out his warmth and comfortable embrace. "I'll love you forever, Y/n L/n...no matter what fate has in stored for us." He buries his head in my hair mumbling while breathing me in. My hands clutching his jacket gently I sniff in happy tears that the real Alaric is back in my arms. "I'll love you, Alaric Saltzman for eternity. It's you and me for the rest of our lives."

Comment and reblog 😊

[turtle-steverogers]

hii, it's the unsent project anon again!! sometimes i think about steve. instead of going back in time for yk, he goes back in time to see his mother again. and has a dance with his mother because he never got to before for several reasons. it would be more rocking from foot to foot than anything else. and steve can barely see through his clumped up lashes from the tears while she strokes the side of his head before cradling it (its a bit of a stretch because he is all big and healthy now) while muttering, "my stevie, my boy" and steve just grins "it's me, ma".

(he would come back after spending some time with her, with a heavy heart but still)

was thinking about this at like 3 in the morning

anon i genuinely think you're trying to murder me lakjdflksjfaskdjflksf

anyway i wrote another fic

-

There are extra white jackets in the back closet, and Steve steals one that’s approximately his size, despite the shoulders being a bit too tight. Pants are a little harder to come by, but he manages to find a pair that look like they’ll fit him in some poor chap’s locker. He tugs them on, grimacing at the way they hug his thighs and fall only to his ankles. They’ll have to do.

He’d already scoped out the hospital the night before-- he knows she’s on the third floor in a private ward. Good, he thinks. She deserves it, if nothing else.

He is focused as he moves through the halls, head down as he passes other nurses. There’s a clipboard discarded on a table near the children’s ward and he swiftly picks it up, squinting at it. He doesn’t process any of the words on the page, but his act seems sound, because nobody stops him.

He makes it to the stairwell at the end of the hall, pushes open the door and takes the steps two at a time. The smell is one that is achingly familiar-- the walls grey and hazy. The air seems thicker, the lights yellow and dim. And though he’s been removed from the past for over a decade, it still feels like home. Like normal. His normal.

But he does not belong anymore, and he will not stay. He’s already been a ghost once. He’s hesitant to be one again.

Especially now, when he is out there somewhere. Most likely in the shitty tenement he shared with Bucky, but also possibly at the grocer he worked at, his ma’s telegram in his pocket. Savoring the bits of her that he could salvage with the knowledge he’d never see her again, even while she’s alive.

Closure has been something Steve always felt he lacked. But he’s seen hell now-- lived in its fiery pits for more years than he can count. He can take some goddamn closure for himself.

The third floor is nearly vacant. No one is in the hallway when Steve steps out of the stairwell, but he can hear voices in the rooms that line the sides. Coughs echo ominously off the walls, and Steve’s toes curl in his shoes, a brief wave of anxiety washing over him. He hadn’t missed these hospitals, and he’d hoped to never deliberately step foot in one again. But this is necessary. This is worth it.

He walks swiftly towards the end of the hall where the private wards are and stops in front of the first room. The name next to the door is incorrect, so he continues on until he sees it, heart stopping in his chest, then speeding up enough to make his lungs tighten.

Sarah Rogers-- TB. Alternative uniform required.

Steve closes his eyes against the blood rushing from his head. He wants to tell himself it’s been so long since he’s felt this detached from reality-- this out of place in a space that should feel so familiar-- but it hasn’t. The feeling, he’s realizing, never truly left him when he woke up from the ice, and the reverse here is strange.

And there’s something even stranger about reconciling this, because he’d lost his ma far before he’d ever died. This grief is an old wound-- one that’s scabbed over only to bleed circumstantially. He’d grown used to living with this particular, bone deep pain. He isn’t sure if he’s here to lance that, or if he’ll walk away with a deeper wound. He isn’t sure it matters, either.

He pushes open the door.

The room is lit with natural light. There is a desk with a vase and a water pitcher on it, along with a few medicine bottles and a tissue box. The bed is pressed against the far wall, the covers barely disturbed save for the frail figure that lies in it.

Sarah turns her head and looks at Steve.

Steve’s world stops.

He hadn’t seen his ma when she was this ill. His last memories of her are of when she was healthy-- cheeks red and full of life, eyes alight with an optimism he still valiantly tries to uphold. Life had not been kind to Sarah Rogers, but she was the kindest soul Steve had ever known, even in the shadow of his father’s violence.

Is, he corrects himself as he looks at her. She is the kindest soul. She’s there. She’s right there.

She’s right there, and she looks weak. She is gaunt and frail, eyes sunken in and cheekbones sharp against papery looking skin. There’s an exhaustion in the lines of her young face that Steve recognizes as the long standing effects of illness-- your body praying to be done fighting while your mind begs otherwise.

Steve resists the urge to turn and run.

Sarah’s face does something strange as she looks at Steve, and he realizes that he’s been standing there for longer than would be normal for a nurse-- shell shocked and silent. She opens her mouth to say something, then stops, eyes widening as she seems to process what she’s looking at. Or who she’s looking at, most likely.

A wizened hand comes up to cover her mouth and she gasps, fear flashing through her eyes and no, no, no--

Fuck, he’d thought of this. He’d had a fucking plan for this, but he can’t remember it now and he really doesn’t want his ma calling security on him, because he has so much to say, and--

“Ma,” he says frantically, taking an aborted step forward. She shies away and he stops, hands flexing at his sides. “Ma, it’s me. I swear it’s me, I can explain.”

Sarah looks suddenly furious. “This is not funny, young man. I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave this instant.”

Fuck, her voice. Her goddamn voice, as weak as it is now, still has the same strong cadence. The subtle Irish twang. And fuck, Steve can’t help it. He bursts into tears.

“Fuck,” he says, falling to his knees. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he think he could stomach the weight of everything that’s happened since he last saw her-- handle standing in front of her with blood on his hands, underneath his fingernails. In his goddamn soul. What would she even think of him now?

He sobs, biting down on a knuckle to keep silent, his other arm going around his stomach. It’s how he used to cry when he was much younger, and more frantic, and that seems to convince Sarah more than anything.

“Steven?” she says. She sounds incredulous. Damnit, she probably thinks she’s hallucinating. Steve had hallucinated a couple times when he was ill enough and his fever was high. Mostly his father, but he’ll digress.

He looks up, and he can barely see her through the tears that clump on his eyelashes. Sarah’s face does something complicated, then softens, and she reaches out a hand. Steve looks at it and sobs harder.

“Oh, Stevie. My boy, come here,” she says, because maybe he is a goddamn hallucination, but her instinct was always to comfort those in pain. She was a nurse, after all.

Steve is goddamn helpless.

He manages to get to her bedside, chest heaving as he buries his face in her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs. “It’s me, ma. I promise it’s me. I can explain, I swear.”

“I don’t doubt that you can explain,” Sarah says sternly, and fuck, he’d missed her chastising him. He can’t help it, he laughs, breathless and watery. “What happened to you? Why are you--” Big. Healthy. “Steven, you can’t be in here. I’m highly contagious.”

Steve shakes his head. “Don’t matter. I can’t get sick.” And oh, his accent is back. He hasn’t had one in years. Decades. A goddamn century.

Sarah lets out a strangled laugh that quickly turns into coughing, and Steve briefly wonders how close she is to death. She died in Winter, and it is sometime in Fall right now. Close then, he thinks. He hugs her harder as the coughing dies down.

“A stór, do you hear yourself? You had pneumonia last Summer.”

Summer. Last Summer. In this world, it had only been a mere few months without her. A fresh wave of grief washes over Steve, and then he can’t help another laugh, then another, and suddenly he’s cracking up into her stomach. Laughing like the insane man he feels he often is.

Sarah freezes, then reaches out to lift his face, their eyes meeting. His laughing stops. She gasps again.

“It really is you,” she murmurs, thumbs moving to the outside corners of his eyes, where there are two identical freckles. Little stars, she used to call them.

Steve offers her a brave smile. “Yeah, ma. It is.”

Sarah shakes her head. “What happened?” she asks again.

“I… so much,” Steve breathes. “I don’t know how to explain it all. I-- I don’t know where to start, but god, I just wanted to see you. I needed to see you.”

Sarah studies his face. “You’re so tired,” she says, thumb stroking his eye again. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes. His lip trembles.

“So tired,” he agrees.

“You don’t need to tell me everything,” Sarah says. “I’m not sure I want to know. But I just… Steven, you look so different.”

Steve laughs, wiping at his eyes. “In a few years, there’s a war,” he says. Blunt-- they’d always been so straightforward with each other. “A scientist-- god, please don’t be mad-- a scientist offered, or… offers? Offered me an opportunity, and I took it.”

“Of course you did,” Sarah murmurs, looking fond and angry despite. She seems to set that train of thought aside. “Germany?” and oh, right. It’s already been in the news, the new reign.

“Yeah.”

Sarah hums. “My dear, you look like you’ve seen more than just war.”

Just war. As if any war was just anything.

As if his war ever truly stopped.

He casts his gaze down.

“Yeah,” he says again, and he thinks of Bucky, who’s also yet to come home from the war. Bucky, who is probably somewhere at the docks right now, untouched by anything but insecurity and financial hell. He desperately wishes they both can soon. This visit, he hopes, will bring him one step closer.

Sarah must read his mind, because her face clouds over.

“Bucky…?”

“Survives,” Steve says quickly, then backtracks. “Kind of. We both kind of died, then came back to life in the future and--” Sarah looks horrified now, and Steve shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s alive. We’re together.”

“Alright,” Sarah says slowly. “As long as you’re together.”

Steve nods, and fuck, he wishes he could have brought Bucky, too. Sam as well-- showed his ma his new friends. The brave new family he’s made for himself. The thought has his eyes swimming again, and he screws up his face, trying not to cry. He’s a goddamn mess. It’s ridiculous.

“I must admit, I’m quite confused,” Sarah says. “And sweetheart, you’re not talking.”

Steve shakes his head, and her arms come around him. He melts into the hold-- savors the feeling. Memorizes the pressure, her smell, and pockets it away for later.

“I just missed you so much is all,” he croaks. “And I-- ma… I’ve done so much. I’ve hurt so many people. Killed so many people, and I still feel so lost, and everything hurts and oh Christ, I’ve just-- I miss you.”

He had sworn to himself, before coming in, that he wouldn’t unload any of this onto her. But her warmth is all encompassing, and he craves her comfort. Her approval. Her strong, sure tone telling him everything will be okay.

That he will be okay. He has to be. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he’s not.

“Lord’s name,” Sarah murmurs, and Steve huffs another laugh. She runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what happened to you. I don’t know how any of this is possible, but I do know you, dearheart. And I know that you are a good person. A gentle person-- my gentle boy, if you’d had a choice, you wouldn’t have chosen violence. But you know more than anyone how mean the world can be. You might have had to make hard decisions, done bad things, but you, Steven, are not bad.”

Steve’s lips part. It doesn’t fix everything, the words-- it barely scrapes the surface of the wall of pain and guilt that suffocates him. But for a moment, the world seems clearer. Quieter. The ache in his chest lanced for one, freeing breath.

“Ma…” Steve says. He doesn’t know how to thank her-- what to say-- because here she is, offering him warmth and closure, even though she might still think he’s nothing but a figment of her imagination. He craves her compassion; her generosity. Swears to uphold it as best he can.

You always stand up, she once told him. He will still, he thinks. He always will. And he will now.

He’ll go home to his family-- his life-- and goddamn live finally. He’s been surviving for so long, he realizes. It’s about damn time for him to stand up and live.

“You’ve still got the same heart,” Sarah continues. She pokes his freckles again. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Steve lifts a hand to cover hers. Her hands are as soft as they always were and he turns his face to kiss her knuckles, then leans forward to kiss her cheek, eyes closing as memories of doing that before running off to school or to play flash through his mind. She smells faintly of vanilla. He wonders if she still dabs it behind her ears.

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you, ma. I love you. I love you so much-- thank you for being there for me. For raising me, and loving me.”

Sarah hugs him. Outside the room, there are voices; shuffling. He needs to go. The window is open, and they’re only three floors up.

“Loving you is the easiest thing that I’ve ever done,” Sarah says. She looks at the door. The voices are closer now. She kisses his forehead. Another echo of a life long gone. “Go now, Steven. Go home.”

Steve looks at her one last time, drinking in the love in her eyes. And as he climbs out the window, the too-tight doctor’s coat ripping around the shoulder seams, he can’t help but think that he’d gotten her eyes right whenever he’d painted her.

Her love won’t be something so easily forgotten.

-

Bucky catches him before he can collapse as he reappears on the launch pad. He lowers them to the ground, cradling Steve’s head with and letting him practically climb into his lap as he weeps, overwhelmed.

After a few minutes, he pulls back. Bucky’s watching him, concerned, and Steve leans in to gently kiss him.

“Steve?” Bucky asks, wary as they pull apart. He reaches out to swipe some tears off Steve’s cheeks.

Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine, I’m fine,” he says. “All the stones are back-- everything’s okay. It’s over. It’s all over.”

Relief washes over Bucky’s face and he kisses Steve, smiling. “Oh god,” he murmurs. “Thank god.”

Steve wraps his arms around his neck, humming in agreement. Sam and Bruce are somewhere-- Steve can hear them talking-- but it’s distant.

They’re quiet for a long time, breathing in each other. Bucky’s arms feel so goddamn safe that Steve feels his resolve slipping again. He can tell Bucky things. He can be here with him now. Home.

“I went to see her,” he whispers.

Bucky stills where he was previously rocking them lightly.

“Her…” Bucky says, then shifts. “Your ma?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” Bucky squeezes him tighter. “How-- how was that? How did she…”

“She was confused. I don’t even know if she knew I was real.”

Bucky pauses, then kisses behind his ear. Steve thinks of vanilla again.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmurs.

“No, it was-- good. Needed. I feel… good.”

“That’s so good, honey.”

“She asked about you-- wanted to know if you were, um, alive. I told her you were.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asks, and there’s a small smile on his face now. Bucky had loved Sarah as if she were another mother, and Steve had done the same with Winnifred. It was a privilege to have had both of their protective arms. “What did she say?”

“She said, ‘as long as we’re together’.”

Bucky smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. Steve wants to reach out and touch, so he does, because he can do that now. Bucky is tangible. He is here.

“She’s got a point,” Bucky says. He goes back to rocking them and Steve rests his head on his shoulder. He hears Bucky start to say something, then stop.

“What?” he asks, pulling back.

Bucky studies him. “Did you want to stay?” It isn’t accusatory, just curious, and Steve considers it.

“Maybe a little,” he admits. “Just… instinctively. It’s an opportunity I might have taken up if someone offered it ten years ago, but… I’m a ghost there now, like I was a ghost here, and I don’t want to do that again.” He bites his lip, shaking his head. “I can’t. I wouldn’t be able to.”

Bucky nods, cupping Steve’s cheek and thumbing his jaw affectionately. “I hear you,” he says. “I was just wondering.”

“And besides, my ma told me to go home before I left,” Steve said, cupping Bucky’s cheek in return. “So I did.”

Bucky smiles, and presses their foreheads together.

“We can do that now,” Bucky says. “We can go home. We can rest.”

And there are still things to do-- Steve doesn’t think there ever won’t be things to be done. But that can wait for another day.

“Yeah,” he agrees. He’s grungy, dirt digging in bone deep from the whirlwind of the last few weeks. He smirks, climbing off Bucky’s lap. “But I call first shower.”

Bucky snorts and stands, pulling Steve up.

“Yeah, whatever, asshole.”

Yeah. The world can wait another day.

-

There’s a bottle of vanilla in the spice cabinet. Steve sees it as he’s looking for the cinnamon. The kitchen is empty, but for the first time in years, he knows he’s not alone.

He takes the vanilla out and dabs some onto his fingers, gently rubbing it behind his ears. He closes his eyes, letting the smell wash over him. He can still feel his ma’s arms around him, keeping him warm.

Home. He’s home.

-

thanks for reading yall aflkdjflaksjdf

[enchantedblackrose]

Like I Love You

Jay Halstead/Plus sized Reader

Summary: Jay arrives at your apartment to pick you up for a date, but you're filled with self doubt.

¡Warnings! This potentially could be triggering. Poor body image, possible body dysmorphia, specific mentions of feelings of not being enough because of physical appearance

<Please, please lmk if I need to add any warnings.>

Loosely inspired by One Direction's Little Things

Like I Love You 

Your head throbs as hot tears of frustration continue to fall from your eyes. 

It was absolutely ridiculous to be this upset trying to pick out a decent outfit. After all, you've been successfully dressing yourself since age three.

But you don't have the mindset of a toddler. You're a jaded young woman with society's disgusting definition of beauty constantly shoved in your face. 

Deep down you know better. You know that the numbers on the scale give no indication of your beauty nor do they dictate your worth.

Sighing and trying to remind yourself that you are pretty, you again glance in the full length mirror. Standing there in nothing more than a top and underwear, fresh tears immediately fill your eyes. You only see flaws. Resisting the urge to poke at the cellulite near your thighs, you focus on your shirt. But the sleeves are cutting into your arms making them look weird. No, not weird. Fat. The too tight sleeves cause your arms to bulge. And the material clings to your soft tummy. You pinch the excess belly fat between your thumbs and index fingers, wishing you could squeeze it away.

You feel so ugly and gross. Angrily you pull the shirt off and throw it clear across your bedroom, where it joins a pair of jeans you couldn't breathe in and numerous other offending articles of clothing. None of which you look good in either.

You find an oversize t-shirt and slip it on before you just collapse on that very spot of plush carpeting.

Tears still roll down your face. All you wanted was something cute to wear. To be pretty. And go out with your boyfriend for a date night. He's a detective for the Chicago police department. The hours are already long and sometimes abnormal, but this week he, and the rest of the special unit he's a part of,  were logging extra hours on a particular difficult case. You haven't seen much of each other recently so you were especially giddy when you received his text earlier in the day saying there had been a break in the case which meant he could swing by your place and take you out on a proper date. Your reply had been almost immediate, telling him how wonderful that sounded.

You were surprised to hear from him again, still promising to take you out, but proposing you both meet up with his coworkers after dinner for some drinks. He included "begging" and "puppy dog eyes" in the message. 

Though you wanted to, you couldn't exactly say no for several reasons. You had already agreed to the date, so he knew you were free. Part of you suspected that he had done it on purpose. You'd accuse your favorite detective of entrapment later. 

You also were fully aware how much Jay wanted to introduce you to the coworkers he considered friends, having been invited to go out with them several times before. You kept putting it off.

Not because you had no interest in meeting everyone. Rather, the idea fed your worst insecurities.

What if they don't think I'm good enough? They're going to wonder what he sees in me. Then Jay will start wondering too. 

Wanting to do this solely for Jay's benefit, believing he deserved this after the hellish week at work, you went to your bedroom to plan your outfit. That's how you ended up in this nightmare. You only want to look your best, like you belong with Jay.

Nothing in your closet said that though. The truth of the matter was no one like him should be with someone who looks like you.

Cries turn to sobs. You draw your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly.

You hear the door to your apartment unlock, Jay using his copy of your key to let himself in. Hastily, you wipe at your face, not wanting him to see you like this; yet you can't find the will to stand. A loud, nasally sniff escapes you.

"Babe?" His still unaware voice calls out from the hallway. "I got us reservations." You don't answer back right away and you hear his footsteps approach. 

Having found you, he stops in the doorway. "Whoa. What kind of nuclear clothing explosion happened here?" He indicates to the mounds of clothes which surround you and cover the better part of the carpet and bed. His laughter dies as soon as he sees your tear-streaked, puffy face. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" his worry evident in both his voice and light eyes. He looks you up and down, frantically searching for any sign of what has you like this.

You mumble incoherently.

"What?"

"I don't have anything to wear."

"The floor begs to differ," he teases. You glare back, in no mood for jokes no matter how well intended. He holds up his hands signaling he meant no harm before he pulls you to your feet. "What's going on?" You huff a heavy sigh in reply. His hand caresses your cheek and softly "hmms?" at you encouragingly.

"Nothing fits right," you confess. He hesitates unsure how to respond, so you continue. "I look extra fat in everything."

Jay frowns. "I doubt that very much. You always look good. I love how you look dolled up when we go out and I love when you're in an old tee and sweats."

"That's nice of you to say-"

"Well I didn't say it to be nice. I said it because it's true," he cuts you off.

You give a tiny, weak smile. "I hate how I look." Your voice cracks. New tears sting your eyes.

He brushes the few teardrops that manage to escape with his thumb. "Baby, what are you talking about? You're beautiful." His voice is soft with a hint of sadness hearing you talk this way.

"This is not beautiful." You pat your flabby stomach, then your thighs. 

Carefully stepping to avoid the clothes which litter the floor, Jay makes his way to your bed and sits on the edge, still mindful of the garments piled there as well. He opens his arms, indicating for you to sit on his lap.

"My huge ass will probably crush you," you mutter.

"Baby-"

 

Exasperated you throw your arms up, "I look nothing like you!"

"Well I'm a guy and you're not so…"

"Stop. I mean you look like a freaking model. That face and those abs for days." You catch him looking smug, no doubt a witty remark is at his lips, but one glance at you and he leaves it unsaid. You continue. Your voice hushed, "I'm afraid of what people might think or say when they see us together. It's why I've been so reluctant to meet your friends."

His eyes sadden. He reaches for you, gently pulling you to his lap. When he speaks, his voice is soft, but stern, almost begging you to believe his words. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I honestly had no idea, but listen to me, please. The only people who get a say about our relationship are in this room right now, okay? So our opinions are the only ones that matter. You. Are. Beautiful." He pauses only to shush you when he sees your mouth open. "The way your mind works fascinates me. Your sense of humor is amazing. You continuously show compassion for others, which in this world is not always easy. I swear your goodness is innate. Your laugh is intoxicating. When you smile...I wish you could see how your face lights up and your body turns me on exactly how it is. I have never been attracted to anyone as much as I am to you. I love you."

Jay's words move you, but they're not enough to silence your insecurities. "Even though I don't have a thigh gap?"

His brows furrow. "I...don't know what that means."

"It means my thighs touch each other. They're not supposed to."

"Says who?"

"...society."

"Society's ugly, not you or your thighs." His fingers trace nondescript patterns on the bare skin in question. "Besides, thick thighs save lives."

"Jay!" You laugh despite yourself. He smiles in return and presses his lips to your temple.

"I love you too. You know that, right?" You ask, realizing you hadn't said it back and he nods. A hand intertwines with his as you look in his eyes, "I'm sorry I'm such a mess."

"You're not. We all have insecurities or things we don't like about ourselves. I just wish you weren't so hard on yourself. I'm sorry too if you felt I was putting pressure on you to meet everyone."

"Not at all," you shake your head. "That's just me being me."

"Still, if my friends have a problem with us being together for any reason, they're not the people I think they are. Truly though, they'd love you. Hell, if we didn't show up together I could see one of them hitting on you," Jay pauses if imagining it.  "But seriously. They'd adore you. First, because they're going to see firsthand how good you are for me. Then because you're you. Funny, smart-"

"But I want to be pretty, Jay. And look like we belong together."

Jay sighs, but not out of frustration with you. He's only concerned."You are. And we do. I know nothing I say is going to magically change how you see yourself...I get that. You have to be the one to work this out. I really wish you could see yourself through my eyes and love yourself like I love you. Maybe then you'd understand you're so worthy of self-love. I promise, I'm right here and I'm going to keep reminding you how beautiful you are in hopes you'll start to see it."

Your hand caresses his cheek as you fight the urge to cry again. He leans into your touch. "You do help," you tell him because it's true and to reassure him. "I'm so lucky to have you. I'm really going to try to not be so down on myself. Besides. I  really don't want to ruin any more of our nights."

He waves you off. "A night trying to get you to see your beauty is not ruined. And the night's still young. We'll do whatever you're up for. Go out for a bit. Stay in and order food. Whatever."

A small smile appears on your face. You quickly peck his lips with yours. "I just want to wash my face before we do anything." Jay nods. You slide off his lap and head to your bathroom across the hall.

The light flickers for a second as soon as you hit the switch. You go to the sink, turning the water on and letting it run to get to the perfect temperature. Standing there, you glance into the vanity mirror. Your face is still slightly puffy with a few soft pink splotches across your cheeks from all your crying. You splash the water on your face and repeat the action several more times before using a fluffy towel to pat dry your face. You stare back into the mirror. And smile. It reaches your eyes and illuminates your face. You reach a realization. However fleeting or permanent, you don't know. But right now in this moment, you feel it. 

You're pretty.

-

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Inukag modern AU

For the first few days Kagome was back at the home she’d shared with Inuyasha, it felt a little strange and familiar all mixed up together. Their friends had helped in moving her things back into the house, but Inuyasha had given her the main bedroom and took the spare saying it might help her memories since that’s where she would normally have slept. During the day, he would go to work leaving Kagome time to wander around unencumbered. So, she took the opportunity to look through photo albums, keepsakes, or simply absorbing the feel of the place. Inuyasha had told her that she was the one who’d decorated it, and from what she could see, that all made sense. Perhaps that did help her in feeling a little comfortable and yet still somewhat of a stranger. To dispel those odd energies, Kagome took it upon herself to be useful, cooking dinner or cleaning, even doing his laundry despite him telling her she didn’t have to… Okay that chore did make Kagome blush the first time she came across his underwear, but she reminded herself she was a grown ass woman who may not remember yet but has seen him naked before so it’s not a big deal unless she made it into one.

All the little normal behaviors seemed to really help her memory to improve rapidly. Several times a day, Kagome would be doing something in the home and flashbacks would hit her. Mostly good ones or embarrassing things that must have made an impact. For instance, finding a bottle of wine in the cupboard and remembering a night she got so drunk Inuyasha had to carry her to bed. Or another, while moving a chair in the living room she remembered a friskier romp and later finding her bra under the couch the next time she cleaned. She was so happy it hadn’t been discovered by a guest or something because Sango probably would have teased her mercilessly.

But with all the memories coming back quicker, and her sense of comfort increasing, so too did a feeling of loneliness. At night, as Kagome laid in bed things felt less foreign and emptier, like something was missing. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that missing element was Inuyasha. This was their bed— their sharedbed, so it made sense that it wasn’t the same without him there. Kagome still felt nervous about it, but after three days of feeling that way and not getting a lot of sleep because of it, she’d asked him to move back into the room with her. Of course, even he was hesitant to do so, but she assured him it’ll be okay. She was certain he wouldn’t try to take advantage or anything. Even when after two days of this sleeping arrangement, she’d woken up to his arm casually around her, Kagome found she didn’t mind it at all… thankfully for his frantic relief.

Inuyasha popped his head into the bedroom. “Ready to go?” They had plans to go out for dinner that night to a favorite restaurant.

“Mmhmm,” Kagome replied as she did a quick check of her skirt and grabbed her purse.

The evening was an especially cherished one for two reasons. First, it was their sixth anniversary and second, but most importantly, Kagome was the one who’d remembered it. Three days earlier while going through her jewelry box, she’d picked up her promise ring and the memory of that event hit her like a ton of bricks. Before that moment the ring had just been another ring, but now, it was the latest trigger of a deluge of memories. So strong it was, that it had sent Inuyasha into quite a panic when he’d come home that day from work to find Kagome teary-eyed, but they’d been happy tears very much worth celebrating.

Things had been going so well, that Kagome almost felt back to normal. She was remembering more and more, her home felt like a home, and the hatchet was now buried between she and Inuyasha after they’d agreed to be honest about anything that was bothering them from now on. They talked out the bad and laughed through the good memories as they broke through. That day of coming clean had truly become a turning point for the couple and despite this whole situation starting off horribly, perhaps it will become the reason their relationship could last forever.

The restaurant was crowded that Saturday evening, as it was most days because of its popularity. Kagome and Inuyasha often chose it for special occasions due to the excellent food and service, as well as the reasonable prices. Dinner and dessert, with a glass of wine…

Kagome smiled at her husband from across the table. “You know what would be a nice way to end tonight? Taking a stroll in the park. The moon is really pretty.”

Inuyasha reached over the table and took her hand, smoothing his thumb gently over the skin. “That sounds like a perfect idea,” he smiled back. “Let me just go to the restroom first and we can check out of here.”

“Okay,” Kagome squeezed his hand back. “I’ll call the waiter for the check.”

He leaned down and kissed her hand, before standing up and walking away towards the restroom area, leaving Kagome at the table to watch for their waiter. She looked down and smiled as she rubbed her hand in the spot Inuyasha had kissed. It was silly, she knew, to feel the butterfly sensations over such a small yet sweet gesture, but it was fun to feel so in love again. To feel her skin, heat up when he kissed her or held her hand. The rush of excitement when he’d begun pulling her close at night… Kagome felt a blush blooming on her cheeks just thinking about the intimate moment they’d shared just a couple days ago. She’d finally felt comfortable enough to allow it, or rather had reached the point when her body could no longer resist the urge… and it was so much more than she could have ever hoped for. Inuyasha’s effects on her loins we’re simply supernatural.

A loud tap on the table suddenly jolted Kagome out of her thoughts, and her head shot up to see who was trying to gain her attention. She assumed it might be the waiter because she’d been so lost in thought, but oh… was she wrong!

Kagome’s eye’s flashed wide in a panic. “K-Kikyo?!”

The woman grabbed Kagome hard by the shoulder, digging her nails into the skin, her words seething in a controlled anger. “Get up. Don’t say a word and do exactly what I say if you don’t wanna get hurt.”

“No!” Kagome tried to shake the woman off, hitting at her hand as hard as she could. “Why can’t you leave me alone!” Her screams drew the attention of everyone around them, and the dining room instantly went silent. Her eyes searched frantically for an employee or Inuyasha, but all it found was the staff frozen in place unsure of what to do. “Somebody call the police!” She screamed.

But Kikyo was in too much of a blind rage to stop, knowing she only had seconds before Inuyasha or someone else might step in. So, she grabbed Kagome by the hair and twisted, yanking her with enough force to pull the screaming woman out of her seat or risk getting her hair pulled clean out. “You don’t deserve him!” Kikyo berated. “Why didn’t you just die that night! Why couldn’t you take the hint and just stay the fuck away, you stupid bitch!”

“Stop it! Stop it! You’re hurting me! Inuyasha! INUYASHA!” Kagome fought desperately to free herself, but every time she tried, Kikyo would twist and yank harder. “Help me!!”

A couple of male patrons sitting nearby, finally stood up to intervene, but that’s when Kikyo pulled a knife out of her pocket and held it to Kagome’s throat. “Try anything and I will cut her,” she spat at the men.

“Ma’am,” a manager stepped forward as well with his hands up as a show of neutrality. “Please put the knife down and let her go. The police are already on their way. You don’t want to do anything rash.”

“Please…” Kagome was sobbing from all the pain. She could feel the cool steel of the knife against her skin. “Please let me go, Kikyo. This has gone too far!” ‘And where was Inuyasha??’ Her mind begged. Surely, he would have heard the commotion by now or had his behavior all been a ruse? What if he’d planned this with Kikyo to get back at her? Kagome’s heart said no, but her mind was such a mess it didn’t know what to think anymore. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, wishing this would all just end… “Inu…”

“Ahhhh!”

The loud guttural scream of a mad woman made Kagome flinch. Was this the end? Her body tensed up expecting to feel the blade slicing into her throat as the woman finished what she’d come there to do… but instead her body just dropped to the floor with a thud. She was— free?! Kagome’s eyes popped open, and as she lay there crumpled on the floor, could only watch in horror and shock for above her Inuyasha had Kikyo’s wrists in a solid lock. She instantly recognized his demon form too, the red eyes and purple stripes along his cheeks. The hanyo was furious!

The manager and another patron quickly pulled Kagome away from the struggle and out of harm’s way. Kikyo was screaming and kicking, fighting against Inuyasha’s restraint but he was too strong. One of the other male diners managed to get the knife safely out of Kikyo’s hand, at which time Inuyasha was able to adjust his grip on the woman and yanked her hands behind her back, keeping her from getting away without breaking her arms.

“It’s been over you jealous, heartless dark bitch! Get it through your head!” Inuyasha roared. “There is something wrong with you! Kagome is gonna be my wife and you’ll never compare to the light she’s brought to my life!!”

“She doesn’t deserve you!” Kikyo screamed. “You should be mine! Not hers, mine!”

“It’s I who doesn’t deserve her, not the other way around you dumb bitch,” Inuyasha growled back. “But you don’t deserve me either!” He tightened his hold around her wrists, purposely digging his claws in to drive his point home as he growled low enough so only Kikyo could hear him. “You ever— EVER come around again, I’ll make you disappear.”

The cops arrived quickly enough to take over and immediately started their investigation. With a room full of witnesses to interview, it would be an easy case to make, just a lot of evidence to process. Kagome had been whisked away by the manager into a back office, away from all the activity so that medical personnel could evaluate and treat her injuries and simply give the poor woman peace to collect herself. Inuyasha was allowed to stay with her, holding her hand while the EMT’s did their job.

“I’m so sorry this happened,” Inuyasha apologized. “I shouldn’t have left you alone at the table.”

“You couldn’t have known she’d attack me,” Kagome tried to reassure him that she didn’t blame him. By that point, she’d already learned how Inuyasha had snuck up from behind while Kikyo was distracted by the manager, and that’s how he was able to detain her so quickly.

“It’s still my fault she was in our lives to begin with.”

“Inu,” she sighed, “we can’t change the past, only the future.”

Once the medical team cleared Kagome with just some minor abrasions to her head and hands, a police detective stepped in and separated she and Inuyasha for their interviews. She did her best to recount everything that happened but talking about it also brought back all the emotions with it. Tears gathered in her eyes, and her head throbbed, almost as if re-living the fear of almost being killed. The adrenaline had finally worn down and her heart had stopped racing. Kagome hadn’t thought about it until that moment, but even though everything had transpired so suddenly, it had taken an enormous physical toll on her body and all it wanted to do now was sleep. At the same time, her mind hadn’t stopped working in overdrive, because seeing Kikyo… no, being attacked by the woman triggered an overwhelming flood of memories. It was like a locked door suddenly being flung wide open.

“Are you okay?” Was the first question Inuyasha posed the second he was allowed to return to his girlfriend. His voice carried with it a high level of concern. “Should I get the EMT’s, because you’ve gone pale.”

Kagome nodded as she turned to face him. “I’m okay, it’s just Inuyasha I…” she took hold of his hands in a tight grip. “I remember everything…”

Now it was Inuyasha’s turn to go ashen white. “You… do?”

Tears re-filled her eyes as she continued to nod unconsciously. “Yes… yes… all the things she did to me… all the fights over it… and that night— the accident, I remember everything…” her voice petered out like the ending credits of a movie. “But it’s so weird that… I’m not upset.” Kagome fixed Inuyasha with a confused look. “Shouldn’t I be upset?”

“I-I don’t know,” his voice cracked.

“It almost feels like a relief,” Kagome unconsciously exhaled loudly as if to accentuate how puzzled she felt. “It was such a bad fight… but I just feel relieved to remember it at all.”

“Is that a good thing?” Inuyasha questioned cautiously.

“Yeah— I… You know, it is,” she finally smiled. “I think the nightmare is finally over and that’s why I feel so relieved. But there is one thing I need to ask you about Inu.”

“Of course! Anything.”

“You told Kikyo I’m gonna be your wife.”

Inuyasha’s body stiffened as a smile bloomed on his face along with the coloring on his cheeks. “Oh, yeah that,” he scratched his head nervously, “it just popped out in the heat of the moment.”

“But…” Kagome leaned forward to stop his shaky hands. “Did you mean it?”

“Actually…” Inuyasha reached into his pocket...

**Question for my readers**

What ending would you prefer?

- A regular ending chapter that takes place right after the dinner scene?

- An epilogue of them finally getting married?

* Throw out some ideas in the notes and maybe one (or more) of the ideas) will make it into the final chapter :)

[bumblebear30]

The heights you take me to.

Rita Calhoun x Casey Novak

Established Calvak

Warnings: Discussion of fears around heights, No smut but allusions to. Language. Casey Novak being so fucking adorable she’ll steal your girl and you’d still thank her.

The heights you take me to.

Not that anyone ever did ask, but if anyone had ever been brazen enough to raise the issue, Rita would categorically deny that she was scared of heights.

And she would win that argument. Even a polygraph test on the subject would be passed with flying colours. She was entirely content on those shallow balconies at the opera, mezzanine floors in apartments in Paris posed no hindrance and, thankfully, even the thought of flying in planes didn’t bother her. So truly heights weren’t the issue.

If you were going to get technical about it, maybe, possibly, perhaps, she had a mild concern – an often valid mild-concern – about falling from unstable platforms. Honestly it just seemed common sense to avoid such scenarios. An intrinsic urge of self-protection that had served her well through life so far. So much so, the issue very rarely came up at all.

And yet, somehow Casey, so typically enthusiastic, utterly wonderfully childlike in her glee and adoration of things somehow put Rita in a situation where she had to confront that maybe she should have voiced her concerns much earlier in their relationship.

It had all come about because Casey had won their most recent head-to-head case and they'd long since set up and agreement that after a case where they been up against each other whoever won got to choose whatever date it was that they went on as soon as they could.

Sometimes it was as mundane as choosing which wine and takeaway combo would go with whatever mindless TV or comfort film they'd watch as they settled back into their domestic selves, or something like Casey making Rita join her on a walk around the park when the seasons were changing so she could point out the beauty of the leaves changing colour or the blossom scattering the footpath. She was always such a romantic; as much in love with the natural world around her as with the woman stood next to her holding her hand. Despite her apparent grumbling Rita actually loved those walks, just getting to have a glimpse of how Casey saw things always made her fall for the redhead even more.

Other times, if she'd won, Rita would go all out spoiling Casey with a quick weekend away, or lavish meal out – not to gloat, never to gloat - but to simply spoil her girl as she deserved to be spoilt.

One time Casey had made Rita go camping... Despite the defence attorney trying her best to cope with it all after several tantrums Casey learnt quickly that camp life did not hold the same joyful relaxation for the brunette as she’d hoped, and had hastily found them a glamping resort nearby to save the long weekend.

But, given the nature of some of the cases, and just how passionately Rita would defend her client and Casey would fight for justice for the victim, sometimes there simply had to be a cooling off phase of a couple of days before either one was quite ready to think about indulging the whims of the winning party.

The longest they'd gone through such a détente had been ten days. It had just clocked over to the eleventh when Rita had woken to the sounds of Casey sniffling, trying to muffle her tears on the couch where she'd been sleeping, self-imposed it had to be said. Wordlessly Rita had left the warmth of their bed and padded across the apartment simply to cuddle up with the redhead: wrapping her arms around her and cradling her head into the crook of her neck. The unspoken love and comfort in the gentle touches, the light peppering of kisses against her hair, had initially just made Casey sob even harder. It was exactly what she'd needed ten days ago but her own smarting pride and anger at the world's injustices had meant she denied herself from seeking out from the one person who could truly console her. Rita had continued to just hold her though and rub her back, letting Casey get it all out without judgement.

Exhausted Casey had eventually fallen asleep, utterly spent after finally letting the emotional dam burst. With great care Rita had slowly manoeuvred them (an impressive feat she was quite proud of really) so that she could lie down on the couch properly with Casey draped comatose over her hip, her face pillowed on Rita's chest. She knew she'd inevitably end up with a drool mark on her satin sleep shirt but making sure Casey was comfortable was far more important - and for the first time in weeks, fell asleep holding her love.

Waking up being held so tenderly by Rita, who had spent the night on the couch with her simply because Casey had needed her, almost made Casey cry again. Although this time because her heart was so full. She'd laid there for a little while completely content to just listen to Rita's soft snores (she only ever did when she slept on her back, Casey always thought they were adorable), until she could resist no longer and started to trail her hand across the top of Rita's shoulder and down her arm a little.

So absorbed in the sensation of the satin under her fingertips, and the incomparable softness of Rita's skin where it had slipped more open on her chest, Casey hadn't realised the gentle snores had stopped till she felt an answering hand come up to run across the back of her head gently. Looking up she had been greeted with such a soft sleepy smile from her girlfriend that Casey just wanted to remember it forever.

The woman was just so perfect for her. Rita would of course argue with a smirk across her face that she was perfect, full stop, but Casey always simply pointed out that she loved Rita’s imperfections just as much anyway. It usually earned her a sweet kiss, or three. But that morning it was Casey who poured as much love and gratefulness into the kisses she pressed to Rita’s cheek before offering to cook one of Rita’s beloved egg-white omelettes.

At this precise moment in time though Rita wished with every fibre of her being that she was back in their apartment, safely sat on the couch which was so securely resting on the ground.

Casey had won their most recent professional battle – Rita was secretly relieved, the guy creeped her out too – and the redhead had promptly declared that she wanted to go to Coney Island. Initially Rita thought she was joking, and had laughed in her face. She thought it went without saying that fair ground rides, fried foods and screaming children were not her idea of a fun evening with her girlfriend. But upon seeing the puppy dog worthy pout that was now gracing said girlfriend’s face she had immediately relented, although only once securing a promise that she could wear Casey’s clothes. She’d be damned if her designer wardrobe was going to be sacrificed along with her professional court win-rate. Chanel and cotton candy did not mix.

So, a few days later she’d subsequently found herself dressed in Casey’s jeans and old softball team hoody. When she’d left the bedroom and when Casey had caught sight of how her ass filled out the jeans let alone seeing Rita with ‘NOVAK’ emblazoned across her shoulders? She was reduced to an absolute puddle of adoration and affection.

Rita had recognised the gleam in her redhead’s eyes and it had buoyed her confidence, loving to have the chance to flirt and spoil Casey to her heart’s content. Although really with the small fortune she’d spent on letting Casey try to win at the coconut shy she would’ve expected a higher quality prize than the little plush tiger the redhead eventually chose. But when Casey had then only slightly bashfully presented it to her, saying that it reminded her of her courtroom persona Rita surprised herself with how much she immediately treasured it, able to picture where it would rest 'on-guard' on top of her jewellery box on the dressing table.

She’d tried to counter how the moment got to her by quipping that she’d need to work harder if Casey saw her as soft and cuddly in court, but Casey had simply rolled her eyes and laughed, quickly tugging Rita towards her to press a quick kiss to the side of her head before leading her further down the boardwalk and onto the next distraction.

Rita had been all too happy to follow. With the quite fierce and regal looking little tiger securely tucked under one arm, and her free hand safely and lovingly entangled with Casey’s whenever possible – only releasing her when Casey wanted to play a stall, or to tsk as she had to untangle Casey’s hair as it got caught on whatever food stuff the redhead kept on encouraging her to indulge in, Rita actually found herself not just tolerating the date, but actively enjoying it.

Cotton candy tasted sweeter when stolen off of her girlfriend’s stick of it. The gleam of Casey’s eyes in all the bright lights made the neon flashing bearable. The screams of hyperactive and wayward children were relegated to the background as Casey laughed and joked with her, muttering sweet nothings into her ear as they watched the sunset, and decidedly naughtier comments when they indulged in ice creams and hotdogs. It had all been going just swimmingly. But then Casey had legitimately squealed and bounced like an excitable golden retriever as she bounded towards the one thing Rita had been determinedly ignoring:

That fucking Ferris wheel.

As she covered her unease – all those different treats suddenly bubbling inside her stomach suddenly felt like such a bad idea – with an attempt at an indulgent smile and joined Casey in the queue, Rita couldn’t help but consider how they’d managed to get so far into their relationship without the discussion about Rita’s concerns – definitely not fear, Rita Calhoun was not scared of anything or anyone thank you very much – but unease, about being up on something so rickety and unstable that just went unnecessarily high and when was it last inspected and god did the damn seats have to sway so and oh shit was it just a bar across their laps that was meant to protect them? She was Rita fucking Calhoun, surely there was something more robust and reliable than a single metal 2x4 to stop her from plunging to her imminent dea-

Oh.

Rita glanced down at where Casey had taken her white knuckled grip from the metal safety bar and now held her hand in both of her own in the warmth of her lap,

“Babe, you should’ve just said if you didn’t want to go on the ride.”

Rita was glad that Casey was so close and so beautiful, it meant she could safely focus on her rather than how the ground, nice safe terra firma, was getting smaller and smaller the higher up they went. She made herself focus on the brightness of her eyes – how they seemed to radiate such love and warmth at her, to take in how there were a few more smile lines at the corner of those eyes than there were when she’d first found herself getting lost in them.

She dropped her gaze (oh god, wrong choice of word she chided herself), to the top of Casey’s cupid bow lip, able to instantly conjure the countless memories of how that lip felt pressed against her own, tracing down her throat and across her body drawing out and bringing her such pleasure. Right now though, the corner of those lips were curling up in one of those soft, ever so slightly teasing smiles that still made Rita’s heart beat faster despite how long they’d been together– although she was glad to notice that actually this time it actually slowed her racing pulse, letting her breathe deeply once more,

“I’m not scared,” she finally huffed out, even though she tried to shuffle closer to Casey in the same moment and instantly froze wide-eyed as the seat seemed to swing at her movement. With a roll of her eyes Casey lifted her arm to come round the back of Rita’s shoulders, encouraging the brunette to cuddle into her side,

“Of course not darling. I never said you were.”

Rita’s sigh this time was in apparent exasperation but truly, she felt inexplicably safer with Casey’s arm wrapped comfortingly around her. She finally felt brave enough to look past Casey’s face, being pressed so closely against the crook of her shoulder she could smell the distinctive scent of Casey’s perfume from where she’d applied it to her pulse point. It made her smile. She’d bought the redhead the bespoke scent for their second Christmas together, and it had been her go-to ever since. With the familiar hints of bergamot, blood orange and nutmeg swirling through her senses and Casey’s low voice pointing out the different sights that surrounded them Rita actually felt herself relax and begin to enjoy the experience.

Until the blasted wheel groaned and ground to a stop just as they came round to the top once again,

“Fuck! What’s happening? Is it breaking? Casey!”

With a gentle chuckle Casey ran her thumb over Rita’s knuckles and the back of her hand to calm her,

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t know you were going to be not scared so I slipped the operator an extra $10 so we could stop at the top for a bit.”

Rita turned to face her aghast,

“And why would you do such a thing!?!”

“Maybe because I wanted to look at all the different sights with my girlfriend,” she reached out to tuck some of the fly-aways of Rita’s classic half-up do back behind her ear, “Or maybe I wanted to make out with the love of my life on the Ferris wheel like a horny teenager…”

The wickedly teasing smile and gleam to her eyes elicited the exact knowing and playful laugh from Rita that Casey knew it would,

“Well, when you put it like that darling,” Casey loved how Rita’s usual confidence seemed to exude from her once the redhead had focussed her attention, already leaning forward as Rita beckoned her with her fingers curling under her chin, “C’mere you.”

So maybe Ferris wheels weren’t so bad after all.

In fact, sharing such sweet kisses that tasted like candy as the fair lights flashed, oblivious in their own world as children screamed and parents yelled all around them, meant Rita thought she could just about say she was a fan of the mechanical monstrosity.

Just.

[hannah-schooler]

i heard you were doing requests so i was thinking queen annes lance for hurt ahsoka and anakin please?

Hey friend!! Thanks so much for the ask, I loved writing this one!!

From these flower dialogue prompts

Queen Anne's Lace—"Who did this to you?"

This one also got really long so if you'd rather read it on AO3 you can do that here. Story continued below the cut!!

Stepping off the transport into the Temple hangar, all Ahsoka could think about was getting a hot meal and an even hotter shower. She was exhausted in every sense of the word. She wouldn’t have been at all surprised if, at any moment, her knees buckled and sent her crashing to the floor.

Chewbacca, the Wookie who had been trapped on the moon with them, seemed to notice, and stuck a little closer to her side during their conversation.

Then Ahsoka’s mind was lighting up like a supernova and the crowd parted to give her a view of her Master rushing her way. The mixture of concern and relief and worry plastering itself on his face for all to see nearly had her come undone right there.

There was not a doubt in her mind that he’d searched for her ceaselessly the entire time she was missing. And while, in the end, he didn’t find her—after meeting the abandoned younglings—it meant everything to be able to know absolutely that he tried.

There was Plo Koon, calling her Little ‘Soka with kind words. There was Chewbacca, and a paw on her shoulder telling her goodbye.

And then there was Anakin. Hands on her shoulders replacing the breath-stealing hug he couldn’t give her in front of the Council. His kind eyes deep and searching her for injuries. There were his apologies, and the self-loathing she felt from him turned her stomach.

It had never been his fault. He was the only reason she had survived in the first place.

A sharp, stinging pain on the side of her abdomen had a grimace crossing her face. It was a stark reminder of the adrenaline leaving her body. Of how battered she was after that last battle with the Trandoshan leader.

Not missing a beat, Anakin swept his gaze over her. Taking in the bruises, the dirt, the blood—Ahsoka was sure she looked like hell.

A gentle hand on her shoulder guided her toward the Temple. “Come on,” Anakin said. “Medbay.”

She was too tired to protest, so she followed him out.

Ahsoka awoke to harsh lights. She didn’t remember much of her visit to the Healers, only yelling and a sedative after her injuries proved to be much worse than she’d even realized.

She squeezed her eyes shut, groaning at the aching sensation plaguing her entire body. She could feel the thickness of bandages wrapped around her, smell the cloying sweetness of bacta in the air.

She took stock of her body first. Hefty dressings on her abdomen—A deep swipe of Trandoshan claws. A brace around her ankle—the crack she’d heard upon landing from the dropship. The stiffness of bacta patches pulling her skin—every hit she’d taken that had no doubt left her skin more black and blue than orange.

Slowly, Ahsoka sat up. It took several moments with her hand pressed against her eyes for the room to stop spinning, and only then did she take stock of the presence nearby.

It burned hot and fast through the bond in the back of her mind. An aching pit of anger and fear. And it was coming from Anakin.

She glanced over to see him sitting in a chair next to her bed, forearms braced against his knees. At her movement he looked up, and his face was impassive. Cold in a way she hated to see. Skyguy was always warm. Always wore his heart on his sleeve.

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly.

Ahsoka eyed him. “Like I got run over by a tank.”

Instead of the chuckle she’d hoped for, Anakin’s face only hardened further. He looked toward the door for a long moment while Ahsoka waited in silence.

“Who did this to you?” he finally asked. His voice was still soft but beneath it he was seething. She could feel it in the Force—his anger. It was roiling. A boiling ocean, and if he let it, it would drown both of them.

In one swift movement, he was on his feet. Pacing was nothing new for her Master, but his sharp movements reminded her of the sharks she’d seen on ocean planets. Their body language turned jerky and aggressive right before they attacked.

He pulled to a stop at the foot of her bed, hands wrapped around the bar there. She heard metal creak and couldn’t decide if it was his prosthetic straining, or if he was crushing the hospital bed beneath his grip.

“They won’t get away with this,” he murmured. And now he was starting to scare her. Anakin’s anger was normally a fire. He was explosive in short, sharp bursts that dissipated as easily as they’d begun. But this was glacial. This was something that burned low and slow—an ice that took centuries to melt.

“Master.” Her voice was small, even to her own hearing.

“I’ll find them. They don’t get to hurt you like that and just—”

“Anakin.” Her shout brought his attention back to her. His eyes were wide and surprised like he hadn’t just been plotting murder right in front of her.

“Stop it,” she whispered. “Please.”

“Ahsoka, they—they hurt you. They hunted you like an animal.”

“Stop it!” she repeated when his hands began to curl into fists once more. She didn’t remember when she started crying, but warm tracks of tears were falling down her cheeks. “I need you more than you need revenge right now.”

She didn’t truly know if it was her tears or her words that caused Anakin’s face to fall, but suddenly he was her big brother again. All warmth and safety and strong arms that wrapped around her and pulled her against his chest.

She sobbed, finally falling apart after the terror she’d suppressed in order to survive finally came through. Anakin just let her, a gentle hand sweeping up and down her back, careful to only ghost over the many bruises littering her skin.

She clutched his tunics in her fists, not caring about the tears and snot probably staining them. He wouldn’t either. She knew he’d let her ruin all his clothes if that’s what she needed. Ahsoka felt him settle next to her on the bed, and readjusted her position so she was leaning into his chest, one of his legs behind her while the other dangled towards the floor.

“I’m sorry, ‘Soka,” he murmured into her montrals. “I’m so sorry.”

A few moments, or perhaps hours, later, her breathing finally returned to normal. Heaving sobs dissolving into the occasional whimper or sharp breath. Healer Eerin came in at one point to change Ahsoka’s bandages.

She stared numbly at her wounds as the Mon Calamari woman redressed them, and Anakin kept a soft hand on her back the whole time.

When she was finished, the healer took both of Ahsoka’s hands in hers and looked Ahsoka straight in the eye. “Rest, little one,” she said in the soothing, calm tone all the healers had. “You are safe now.”

Anakin nodded his head at her, a soft “Thanks, Bant,” leaving his mouth.

Ahsoka curled up against him again and let him rock her softly side to side. His chin came to rest in the valley between her montrals and she gave a soft laugh. The action never failed to amuse her, mostly because Anakin had taken to doing it in the first week of their partnership, simply to remind her how small she was. It had started out annoying—had Ahsoka wishing it was appropriate to hit your Jedi Master—but ultimately turned endearing, a way he kept her close.

“You’re safe, Snips,” He repeated Healer Eerin’s words in a whisper. His presence, surrounding her physically and in the Force, only emphasized his sentiment. “You’re home.”

She didn’t recall falling asleep, but she rose to wakefulness still in Anakin’s arms and now covered with a blanket. She was still tired—still hungry and sore and in need of the longest shower of her life—but something in her soul had replenished as she slept.

Ahsoka glanced up to find Anakin still awake, his head turned toward the window and staring out into the distance.

He looked down at her and grinned. “Hey, kiddo. You hungry?”

“Starving,” Ahsoka muttered. “All I’ve eaten for a week is bugs.”

For a moment Anakin stared at her blankly, then he started laughing. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“I did try it,” she deadpanned. “I’m knocking it.”

Anakin shook his head, messy hair flying into his face. It was more unruly than usual, and with that observation came others. The bags under his eyes were darker and more prominent. His face looked pale and gaunt—like he’d been eating as randomly and poorly as she had. His shoulders were still lined with tension.

She resisted the urge to sigh. Anakin had always been terrible about taking care of himself. From the minute she became his padawan it was always a team effort between her, Rex, and sometimes Obi-Wan to get him to sleep.

It appeared her capture had only exacerbated his bad habit.

“Obi-Wan should be back soon with Dex’s.”

“Thank the Force,” she breathed, deciding not to push the issue for now.

And speak of the Sith Lord and he shall appear. Master Obi-Wan pushed through the door to her room in the Halls of Healing only a beat later. His arms were laden with two takeout bags that read “Dex’s Diner” in big, red letters.

Obi-Wan settled onto the end of her hospital bed, placing the bags down between the three of them. Ahsoka practically scrambled away from Anakin to begin rifling through the food.

A plastic cup containing something thick and pink then settled into her line of sight. Ahsoka nearly squealed in delight at the milkshake. “Thank you, Master Obi-Wan,” she smiled.

“Yes, well.” His voice was the same cool, Coruscanti tone it always was, but his eyes were unbearably fond when he grinned at her. “Only the best for our little padawan.”

Obi-Wan dished out some more food—Anakin’s spicy curry, his own favorite pasta. Ahsoka’s nerf-burger with extra bacon and no vegetables just the way she liked it.

At the first bite, she nearly cried at how good it tasted.

“Here, Anakin.” When she looked up from the culinary miracle she held in her hands, she saw Obi-Wan with his arm outstretched, another milkshake—this one chocolate—in his hand.

Anakin took it slowly, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t remember the last time you bought me a milkshake.”

Obi-Wan shrugged, looking away briefly before his eyes rested on Ahsoka for a moment. “All things considered, I thought you could both use something sweet.”

“Oh,” was the whispered answer out of Anakin’s mouth.

Breaking the silence that was quickly descending from nice to awkward, Ahsoka finished the last bite of her nerf-burger. “Is there more?” she asked quickly.

Broken out of their spell, Anakin laughed and handed her another foil wrapped burger. As they ate and talked and laughed, together again, Ahsoka glanced between the three of them.

Her time on the Trandoshan moon was already fading into a distant memory. And even if it came back to haunt her, Anakin and Obi-Wan would be there to help her through it. With strong arms and warm hugs. With soft smiles and milkshakes.

Anakin took a sip of his shake, slurping loudly through the straw. Obi-Wan fussed at him about “decorum” and “manners.”

Ahsoka smiled. She was home, now. She’d be okay.

[starsfic]

Smoke and Gold, Chapter 10: Looking

Summary: Xiaojiao and Xiaotian reunite. But things go sour and his bestie lays a choice at his feet.

It's the wrong one.

Notes: @fosermi

AO3

-_-

Xiaotian was a bundle of nerves that morning.

For once, he was glad Red wasn't there when he woke up. He might've been tempted to call this off, homesickness be damned. He barely ate his breakfast, thankfully not throwing up from the anxiety curling in his gut. Soon enough, he was making sure the servants had Xiaojiao's favorite snacks and desserts ready, succeeding in not entering a mood swing. That didn't relieve his nerves.

How was she doing? Did everyone miss him? How was everyone? Would she recognize him-

"Long Xiaojiao is here, my lord."

Xiaotian blinked out of his thoughts, turning. A servant stood in the doorway, thankfully showing no notice of his spiral. Then the news hit.

And he was running out of the room.

He shot past servants and guards, finally reaching the entry hall. He heard her voice before he saw her, yelling at the guards. "-why I'm-"

"Mei?" He couldn't resist the urge to use the childhood nickname. His best friend, still wearing her motorcycle gear, froze. Then she turned, wide-eyed.

They stood there, staring at each other.

Then one of them sobbed. He wasn't sure who because tears were pricking at his eyes and then they were rushing to each other.

They met in the middle, collapsing into a pile of hugs and tears.

-_-

The day was great.

This was the best idea ever!

After their hugs and assuring Xiaojiao he was fine, Xiaotian proceeded to give her a tour. Xiaojiao oohed and ahhed, occasionally making comments about her parents' sense of decor. Eventually, he had her right where he wanted her.

Right to the gaming room, which was much bigger than anything either of them had seen. There, she whooped his ass at every game, just like at the arcade. Just like it was a regular day.

Now they were eating lunch with what stomachs were available from game snacking. Xiaojiao had assured him that everyone was fine, although they all missed him so much. And now they were talking about this and that.

"So, spill," Xiaojiao said, setting aside her drink. "Tell me about Red. What's he like?"

A fond smile formed. "What do you want to know? He's smart. He loves to invent, you two would get along. He's really, really ...attentive." The word sent warmth spiraling through his insides, remembering Red's talents in the last, kissing and sucking and biting…

"Where is he? I mean, I figured he’d want to meet me."

Xiaotian blinked out of his lustful thoughts, blushing. She hadn't caught on to what exactly he was thinking about his husband, right? "Oh, he's at work. He's really busy during the days and if I know I can't see him, I would be-"

"You've never seen him?"

And Xiaojiao's voice had changed. Xiaotian froze, because right. That wasn’t normal in a relationship. He shrugged, trying to pretend it was a normal thing. “It’s one of the rules here. I can never see his face.”

Her expression looked worried. “Okay, look,” And she sounded worried. “That… that isn’t normal. And the fact that you’re a sacrifice for this guy…” Emotions crossed her face. “Alright,” she finally said. “I’m only asking you to do this because you clearly love the guy and I just want you safe and happy.”

That didn’t sound good.

“...do what?”

She reached into her backpack, pulling out one of her spare phones, an old flip phone. She passed it to Xiaotian before reaching back inside. What she pulled out next made his throat dry.

It was a knife.

“You need to protect yourself,” his best friend said gently. Trembling, his hand reached out, wrapping around the handle. “What if this is just a long game?” He shook his head in denial.

“Look, just sneak one look and then you’ll know.”

Just one look?

“If he’s not what he says he is, then use the knife. If you...have to, use the phone to call me when it’s done.” Xiaojiao went quiet. Then she wrapped arms around him.

There, he broke down.

-_-

“Is everything alright?”

   Xiaotian resisted a shiver at his husband’s voice. Questions crowded in his throat. “Fine,” he said, instead of any of them. “Just tired.” There was silence, then lips pressed against his shoulder. “Night.” he managed out, snuggling into the covers in an attempt to look like he was going to sleep.

   He felt a warm back press against his. “...Good night.”

   The urge to apologize joined the crowd of questions but Xiaotian didn’t say a word.

   You need to protect yourself, MK .

   As much as he hated it, Xiaojiao had a point. He deserved to know that he was safe. Besides, why wasn’t he allowed? His husband had seen every inch of him. Why didn’t he get that privilege?

   Look, just sneak one look and then you’ll know.

   Just one look.

   It felt like an eternity before Xiaotian heard his husband start the slow, even breathing of sleep. Moving slowly, he carefully slipped out of bed. He hit the soft carpet and reached under the bed. The total darkness of the bedroom made it impossible to see his contraband, forcing him to blindly search around.

   If he’s not what he says he is, then use the knife.

   His hand brushed against the handle of the knife. Xiaotian shivered and kept looking.

   If you...have to, use the phone to call me when it’s done.

   His hand brushed against the phone and then finally wrapped around the candle. The reason why he had to use a candle was because the phone was one of those old flip phones with no flashlight. Xiaotian pulled out the candle and the box of matches right next to it. He didn’t light it right there.

   Instead, he carefully stepped to his husband’s side of the bed. Xiaotian quietly pulled out a match and striked it, lighting the candle. Cupping the flame before he could see, he took a deep breath.

   Moment of truth.

   He pulled his hand away.

   The candlelight gently fell upon his husband and the truth hit him.

   Oh no.

   Warm skin in both body heat and tone. Long red hair curling around his shoulders. An sharp, angular face. A golden nose piercing that shone in the light. Red bull ears that matched the tail that absently twitched and swished in sleep. Even though he had never seen his face, Xiaotian could recognize the young man from Wukong’s stories.

   He scrambled away from Red Boy, son of his father’s enemy the Demon Bull King.

   Xiaotian didn’t stop moving until he felt his back hit the wall. He clamped a hand over his mouth as he moved, stifling a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a scream. His mind whirled at the truth and the possibilities. A trap? He should- he needed to- He took a deep breath in and then out and focused.

   His husband was Red Boy. The demon who had attacked Sun Wukong on his journey west, the son of the demon locked under mountain and staff, the half of the danger that they were watching. That would explain why he was never around during the day. He was probably with his mother.

But...he was also Red. Red, who was proud to the point of being a bit arrogant. Who promised to wait to touch him until he asked. Who could go on and on about machines and was all too willing to explain terms and parts and bits if he asked. Who listened to him talk about art and his work and asked informed questions. Who apologized that his hands were a bit rough whenever they touched and kissed him eagerly when he finally asked him to make love to him. Who had the cackle of a mad scientist and was shy about his features and had such goofy grins that he felt when he smiled into his skin. Who Xiaotian loved and…

He let out a sigh, thinking about this.

Okay. So, he couldn’t do this. The stabbing or the leaving. Xiaotian crawled back to Red’s side, staring at his peaceful features until the knot of fear in his chest came undone. Under all that, he found himself happy to finally see the man he loved. That pushed his decision. He loved him and he was okay with that. He could wait until he was ready to reveal himself and ask questions then.

He gave his husband a soft kiss, sealing his promise. He then moved to stand-

“OW!”

The candle had started to drip, Xiaotian realized. And a glob of hot wax had fallen onto his hand and wrist. He yelped, dropping the candle to cradle his burn. But the pain was soon overshadowed by the fact that Red had sat straight up at his cry. The concern in his eyes at the painful cry faded as he realized that he was standing over him and noticed the still burning candle on the floor. It was soon replaced by something else- anger.

“Red, it’s not-”

But his husband’s hair was already flaming. “You-” He apparently couldn’t say anything else before he was engulfed in flames. Xiaotian yelped, immediately going down and hearing fire and wind woosh.

When he peeled his face off the carpet, the bed was empty and the sheets nothing but ash.

And he was heartbreakingly alone.

“...Red?”

Unsure of what else to do, Xiaotian curled up into a ball.

Tears pricked in his eyes and he soon found himself sobbing.

-_-

Princess Iron Fan’s sitting room was filled with the sound of sobbing.

“Oh, my sweet useless boy,” the princess cooed. He was curled up on her sofa, head pillowed in her lap, with her running her fingers through his hair like he was a little boy again. “I should’ve known better than to give you such a task.” She was angry at her son for his failure and his resulting deeds, but she was a mother first. Her poor baby was heartbroken and needed comfort.

“I- I told him not to look- I-I-I-I asked him not to look…” Red Son burst into a fresh round of sobs, wetting his mother’s skirts. “Why did he-?!”

“Oh, Red Son,” Iron Fan sighed. “Sun Wukong is selfish. It makes sense that his successor will be just as selfish.” He winced at the harsh words but she continued on. “If he had truly loved you, he wouldn’t have looked. Forget about him. We have more important things to do.” But she made a little mental note as she peeled her son off her lap and saw how broken he was.

Qi Xiaotian deserved something nasty for breaking her son’s heart.

[satan-ruler-of-hells]

The Only Exception (2)

Holy crap yall I did it!!!! Part 2 is here finally and finished. A huge huge thanks to Pies and Noodles whom without this would still be stuck in drafts somewhere probably never to be completed. You guys are the absolute best! 

Tagging: @pies-writes-and-more @thisnoodlewritesao3 @dickbutt-queen

Part 1

 At least for about a week, you should've known your luck wouldn't hold out as when you got back to your dorm, Ushijima was waiting for you. 

  You slowed to a stop a few feet away from him, " Did we have a study session? I'm sorry we can reschedule but I'm tired and plus it's late-"

"You've been avoiding me." 

He cut you off looking up at you,  the look on his face stopped whatever excuse you had come up with. He looked rough, the dark circles under his eyes, though barely noticeable stood out like neon signs to you, probably staying up late practicing. Your throat felt tight, you gestured to the door inviting him in, as private as Ushijima was you knew this wasn't a conversation he wanted to have in the hallway. The silence that filled the small room was deafening and for once you had no idea what to say.

"Did I do something wrong?" You don't think you've ever heard him sound so soft, so unsure of himself and your chest tightened painfully. You resisted the urge to go over and hug him,  deciding instead to wrap your arms around yourself, attempting to hold both you, and your emotions, together. 

"No, Ushijima you did nothing wrong I've just been busy-" 

"Don't lie to me please. You've been avoiding me and I'd like to know why." 

"I've been studying."

"No. "

"Cheerleading practice has left me exhausted."

"No."

"Filling out college applications is very time consuming."

"No. "

"What do you want me to say!?" Even you could hear the desperation in your voice and tears filled your eyes. You looked at the floor biting your lip to keep from sobbing. His hands gently grabbed your chin, pulling your eyes up to meet his and it felt like he was looking straight through you to your soul. 

"Just tell me the truth. That's all." 

You stepped back wiping your face of the few tears that managed to escape. 

"Fine, you want the truth? How about every time I see you my stomach starts doing cartwheels and my heart feels like it might beat out of its chest. I'm almost entirely convinced that I've never felt more safe than when your arms are wrapped around me and the sound of your voice is the most calming thing I've ever had the pleasure of hearing. I can’t sleep at night unless I've heard from you and my dreams are filled with you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone and it terrifies me.” The last part comes out as a whisper and you’re unable to keep the tears from free falling, you're not sure how it happens but you end up pressed into Ushijima’s chest sobbing. He doesn’t say anything, just hugs you tight rubbing soothing circles into your back.

 You stay that way until the tears stop falling and then some. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is completely strained and though you know you should, because his shirt is soaked and a million other reasons, step away you can’t bring yourself to move, not yet. 

“What for? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

 You could practically see the burrow in his brow and the genuine confusion in his voice almost made you smile. Ushijima Wakatoshi, reliable and unwavering, even when everything around him changes, he stays the same. He pulled back wiping your face with a gentleness you’d never seen from him and looked into your eyes, like he was looking for something. 

“I love you, I want you to know that, despite what may or may not happen you deserve to know. I know you’re scared, and I would never ask you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. But think about it, please?” You don’t recall ever hearing Ushijima saying that much at one time and it left you speechless but you hesitantly nodded your agreement. He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead hugging you once more before leaving, the door shutting behind him with a soft click. 

You don’t remember falling asleep but the next morning your head was pounding and there was an increasingly familiar ache in your chest. You'd never been more thankful for a Saturday in your life because you had plans of never leaving this room again, much less your bed. It felt like you had been hit by a train, or maybe caught one of Ushijimas spikes to the chest. Just thinking about him sent a new wave of pain through your entire body and you kept replaying his words to you last night in your head. He’d said the word so casually, like it was easy. One of your favorite things about Ushi was that he didn’t sugarcoat anything and has never lied to you. Your heart knew this, your head was not as easily persuaded.

A knock at the door startled you out of your thoughts, you contemplated getting out of bed or just pretending you were still asleep ultimately deciding on the former. Opening the door you couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at your lips, seeing a still sleepy Tendou with a bag full of both of your favorite snacks and Shonen Jump. You almost immediately launched yourself at him wrapping your whole body around him, he caught you easily and hugged you just as tight. 

“You’re an idiot you do know that right?” his voice was muffled but you knew he was smiling.

“I missed you too Satori.” and you truly had. The hole that was left from not being around your best friend was bigger than you anticipated, like you’d lost a limb. Having him here you almost felt whole, if not for the gaping hole in your chest. He walked the both of you inside, shutting the door behind him, you weren’t ready to let go of him quite yet, setting everything down on your desk to embrace you fully.

 You don’t know how long the two of you sat there before you finally let him put you down and you just talked about any and everything you’d missed in your period of self isolation. You were grateful that he avoided talking about Ushijima or anything relating to him, you were almost able to completely ignore the ache in your chest. You’d nearly forgotten just how much Tendou’s mere presence helped calm you, as wild as he was he was still a crucial part to you maintaining your sanity. 

The sun had been down for hours, the light of the full moon filled your room before Tendou finally decided to bring up the elephant in the room.

“Am I allowed to ask what happened or are you gonna go back to avoiding me and anything that has to do with feelings?” He said it with a grin, you shot him a look and nudged his shoulder playfully.

“I said I was sorry.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m ready to let you off easy, I missed having you and your emotionally constipated self around. Plus it’s boring being the only crazy one.” You shared a laugh rolling your eyes, his face turning slightly more serious and you could see the concern in his eyes. So you told him everything, from your childhood (something Tendou had only heard bits and pieces of himself) the night you’d told Ushijima all the way up to his confession last night. You didn’t realize you’d started crying again until Tendou wiped them away and passed you the tissues. 

“I know he wouldn’t lie to me, Ushijima doesn’t lie or sugarcoat or hold back. I’m just scared.” You sniffled, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone Tendou and I don’t want to ruin anything. I can’t imagine him not being in my life, it’s like he’s always been there and when he’s not around it hurts.”

“Yeah sweetheart that’s what happens when you fall in love with someone.” he brushed a piece of hair out of your face,” Plus look at it this way, it’s not like he’s asking you to marry him ok? Talk to him, tell him everything and just see where it goes. The only way you could lose him is by shutting him out. Ushijima, the man who literally never speaks, told you he loved you. That doesn’t sound like somebody who’s in a hurry to let you go.”

Tendou changed the course of the conversation soon after, but his words still played over in your head well after he had fallen asleep. You covered him with a blanket quietly picking up all the discarded food wrappers and trash from around your bed before squishing yourself next to him in the bed. You’d forgotten in the past few weeks just how big Tendou really was despite his lanky frame, but his height more than made up for it. Still you slept more soundly that night than you had in weeks, comforted by the fact that whatever happened you’d always have the privilege of being loved by Tendou Satori.

It was nearly two weeks later before you found yourself pacing anxiously outside the gym one night, long after practice had ended. With Nationals coming up you knew this would be the best place to find Ushijima, for as long as you’d known him he always put in even more extra practice in this time of year.

 Wrapped up in your own thoughts and anxieties, you failed to realize the sounds of a volleyball connecting with the floor had silenced completely and Ushijima was leaning against the door to the gym. Hearing him clear his throat you stopped dead in your tracks, face flushing a bright crimson as you turned to face him.

“Hi.” You said sheepishly, Ushijima raised an eyebrow motioning for you to come inside. You couldn’t help the way your heart raced and for the first time in two weeks the ache in your chest receded.  Despite the fact you’d rehearsed this conversation in your head a million times, something about him always made you lose your focus, his scent, his presence, everything about him. His eyes met yours and it was like Ushijima stole the breath out of your lungs, this beautiful, perfect man loved you. How did you ever get so lucky?

“I’m sorry it took me so long, I didn’t know what to say for a while. Then when I did figure it out, I didn’t know how to actually say it. If I’m being completely honest I still don’t, but I want to try.” You swallowed thickly but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Ushijima looked at you with no expectations, no delusions, he just saw you. For everything that you were, the pretty and the ugly, he had seen it all and he was still looking at you like you single handedly put the stars in the sky. (Or like you’d invented volleyball, in your defense you’ve never seen the man look at anything like this before.) For the first time in your life you felt seen, not only that but you, for the first time in your life wanted to believe that happy endings could exist.

It was like he knew you were struggling, then again didn’t he always? Because he smiled that smile that never failed to cause the butterflies in your stomach to make a fuss, like he was encouraging you to continue. With that smile you’d walk through fire for him if it would make it last even a second longer. 

“I want to see where this goes, because to be honest I don’t know how much longer I can keep lying to myself about how I feel. I want to be around you all the time and when you’re not there it’s like a piece of me is missing. That terrifies me and excites me but for you I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t do. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t let myself fall for someone but you make me want to jump. Before you it was easy to keep a comfortable distance, keep people at arms length, and that I was ok being alone because it wasn’t worth hitting the ground. I can’t let go of what we have here, whatever it is, because I don’t ever want to lose you.”

You looked away for the first time since you started speaking to him, the next part coming out as nothing but a whisper, “I hope you’ll catch me, because I think I might be in love with you.”

Ushijima must’ve heard you, next thing you knew he had you wrapped up in his arms hugging you close. 

“I’ll never let you hit the ground.”

 His voice so close to your ear sent tingles down your spine, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of his lips on yours. You still didn’t know if you believed in happy endings but at this moment, you were willing to start.

[halcyonstorm]

Ahhh my final submission for LH drabble week: Angst Monday (yes i posted it on a tuesday)! Please enjoy and comment your thoughts and feedback. @levihan-drabbles

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman & Hange Zoë Characters: Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoë Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Shingeki no Kyojin Chapter 126: Pride Spoilers, Shingeki no Kyojin Chapter 126: Pride, Shingeki no Kyojin Chapter 132: Wings of Freedom Spoilers, Angst and Feels, right person wrong time, What-If Series: Part 8 of Short Fics Summary:

They just wanted an ending.

The sound of the shotgun rang in Hange’s ears as she shot two of her ex-soldiers dead, tears trickling down her face. She hated that it had to end up like this. She had known them personally, too. The whole world was against them. She took a deep sigh. After surveying the forest and deeming it safe, she returned back to Levi’s side. He was unconscious with Hange’s Survey Corps cloak wrapped around his face. Her heart ached when she started unraveling the cloak, exposing his injured, tainted face. The biggest scar ran from the top of his forehead, through his right eye, into his cheek. She felt herself get overwhelmed seeing him in this shape.

“The pursuers are all gone, Levi…” It’s safe, for now, she wanted to say. You’re safe with me. She knew this was temporary, though. They would never truly be safe again.

-

Hange had begun to set up camp. She pitched a tent, chopped at trees and gathered sticks to start a fire and was able to clean Levi’s wounds and body. He could develop an infection if she didn’t act fast. After all, she wasn’t sure how long he’d been face down in the mud unconscious. She started with his hand, using a wet cloth to clean the dirt as gently as she possibly could. Then, she wrapped his exposed wound, starting at his wrist and weaving the bandage around the empty space on his hand. She brought his hand to her lips and placed a gentle kiss on top. It broke her heart to see him in such critical condition.

After his hand, she tended to his face. She dampened her cloth in the basin of water, slowly and gently caressing his face to clean off the dirt and mud. She took this moment to indulge in admiring him. He looked peaceful, at least for that moment. She brushed his raven black hair out of his face, patting his gash with the cloth, blood crusted on the scar. His skin was smooth as she couldn’t resist the urge to touch his cheek with the back of her hand. His eyelashes were long and straight which she never noticed before. She had never been this close to him before. She made her way down his face to his lips. She dunked the cloth in the basin again, wringing it out, and then dabbed at his lips to cleanse them. As she cleaned him, she felt tears well up in her eyes. 

“The fact that you're still alive with these wounds is because you’re an Ackerman,” she determined, starting to sterilize her needles in the fire. She grabbed the thread and started to stitch his face. She was careful, making sure to only go as deep as she needed to avoid causing more pain. Her heart throbbed in her chest when she imagined how much pain he was in. I wish it were me instead. She thought. After carefully poking and prodding at his face, stitching him up as well as she could, she dumped her tools into a pot of boiling water to be cleansed. She ran a hand through her hair, gripping a chunk of it and squeezing, tempted to pull it out. She felt like she was going to explode. After everything her and Eren had been through, he still turned his back on her and her soldiers. Rage boiled up inside her, poisoning every cell in her body. 

Why couldn’t things be different? She’d ask herself.

“I’d rather the two of us just live here. Right, Levi?” She said softly aloud, turning to look at Levi’s unconscious face. Her selfish ideas spilled from her mouth and into the ears of her partner. She truly wanted to live with him. She wanted a life with him. She wanted to wake up with him every morning, make him tea, explore the forest, forget about the shitty world they were born into for even just a moment. She was grateful he was unconscious and couldn’t hear her. She allowed the tears to flow for just a brief period. No one was around, she was safe to let it go. Her exhale was shaky as her throat tightened. She blinked and hot tears came rushing down. She covered her face with her hands, allowing herself to cry. Not just cry… to sob. Her heart felt as if it was being torn apart strand by strand. Like someone physically shoved their hands inside her chest, pulling it apart. She felt a strong urge to scream, but she covered her mouth tightly with her hand, allowing a few moans to escape.

All she wanted was peace. She wanted all the suffering to end. She wanted Levi to be healthy and happy. She wanted to explore the world with him, try new things with him. There was so much she wanted to do couldn’t, and she knew that. When she joined the Survey Corps, she knew what she signed up for. She wasn’t afraid to die for the cause, but she just wanted Levi to be happy. She knew how deeply he had suffered. He lost his mother, Isabel, Farlan, Gunther, Eld, Petra, Oulo, Mike, Erwin, and countless more soldiers. She would do everything in her power to make him happy and not just survive but to truly live.

Later that evening, she began to work on building the cart to carry Levi. She contemplated carrying him on her back, but it was unrealistic. She was strong, but not strong enough to carry him for possibly days on end. She was working on hammering a nail into the wheel when there was a crash of lightning. Suddenly, she was knelt in soft, white sand. The sky shone turquoise behind her. She placed her makeshift hammer down, leaving an imprint on the sand. She put her hands on the ground to help her stand up. That is where she saw a familiar tall man with his dark brown hair tied in a knot. He was facing away from her, sitting in the sand with his knees to his chest. She slowly walked up to him, sand filling her shoes.

“Eren?” The man turned his head to face Hange. She is hesitant to sit down, but he waves her over to him.

“Hange-san,” he began. “I am sorry for everything.”

“Wh… What are you talking about?”

“You’re going to die soon,” he admitted, drawing circles in the sand. “Levi will try to stop you, but you can’t let him.”

“I don’t understand… how do you know all this?”

“This is all a part of my plan to eradicate the Titans…” he muttered. “But I am sorry it has to end this way. I know how much you and Levi care for each other. It will be painful, I will admit. But it is for a good cause.” 

Hange shook her head in confusion. “What the hell? What will happen to Levi? Isn’t there another way?”

“No… There's no other way. Levi will be survive in the end. Don’t worry about that.” He had already made up his mind. “I am sorry. Go inside. Levi is waiting for you.” As Eren spoke, he pointed into the distance. Suddenly, they weren’t in the sand staring at the turquoise sky anymore. They were in a similar forest with tall pine trees. There was a small cabin with smoke exiting through the chimney. The cabin looked like it was something Hange and Levi could’ve made themselves. She opened the door hesitantly to find Levi sitting in the rocking chair, a cup of hot tea in his hand. 

“Hange, you’re home,” Levi said, pleasantly surprised. She noticed his scar was present, clean and healed. He didn’t wear an eyepatch like she did. His right eye was white and cloudy. He stood up slowly, placed his tea cup in the tea dish, and walked towards her. She was able to admire his outfit. He wasn’t in his military gear, but in a beige sweater and grey trousers. He looked comfortable and at peace, which is what Hange always wanted for him. She was at a loss for words.

“What is this?” 

“This is the most I can give you, Hange-san. A life with Levi.” She felt tears well up in her eyes. “I can let you stay here a little while longer.” Eren disappeared when she looked back to where she heard his voice. She looked at Levi, placing her hands on his cheeks. Levi’s lips curled into a small, sad smile.

“Look at our house, Hange,” he said, gesturing towards the center of the room. She looked away from him to admire the house. Their house. It was very cozy: it had two large burgundy sofas against the back and right wall, a fireplace in the center of the living room which had fierce flames. Levi led her to the kitchen and dining room. The kitchen had off-white square tiles as the floor and wooden cabinets, as well as a stove. There was a wooden table with two chairs. It made Hange’s heart swell, even bringing tears to her eyes. They did get to live together in another life.

“Levi…” she whimpered, looking at him again. He grabbed her hand, interlocking their fingers.

“We’ll be here again, one day…” Levi said. Suddenly, she felt a breeze flow through her hair. Then, the house started to fade into nothingness and blow away. Levi was the last to disappear. Hange felt herself reaching out and grasping for him, begging him to come back. 

Then, she was back to reality; hammer in hand, arm in the air, ready to swing.

What just happened? She asked herself. She felt as if she had taken a long nap, dreaming of a place so distant. She swore she had a dream, but it was long forgotten, deep in her unconscious mind. A tear was streaming down her face, her heart pounding in her chest, as if she just woke up from a nightmare.

“Don’t tell me… Eren… the world…” she muttered. The words came spewing out of her mouth for a reason unknown to her. “LEVI!” She turned to look at her partner only to find out he’d woken up. He was attempting to sit up.

“That damned beast titan…” he groaned, pain overwhelming him. 

“You don’t need to get up,” Hange insisted, placing her hands gently on his chest. He eased back to his previous supine position. “What happened?” He briefly explained what happened, how Zeke was prepared to die for the cause. Hange sighed. She could barely handle the thought of what happened. She did hear the thunder spear go off, after all… She felt guilt tug at her damaged heart. Maybe she could’ve prevented it.

“I know you’re full of regret, but for now…” She was interrupted.

“What's left if we run and hide like this?” Levi asked, looking her in the eyes so fiercely she couldn’t look away.  She felt her face turn red and hot.

“So, you heard my soliloquy, huh…” She mustered up the strength to look away. She was embarrassed, but then she realized he didn’t reject her. He said ‘what if we run away and hide like this?’ Him, her, together. He looked past her shoulder.

“What is that? Are you planning to pull me by horse? I know you, you aren’t able to stay out of the action…” She noticed his eyes were starting to appear wet… was he tearing up?

“That’s right. I can’t.” Hange sighed, looking into her lap.

The two knew what was to come; Hange and Levi knew what was coming from the moment they joined the Survey Corps. Duty first. Love second. They yearned to be together, but they knew that they had met each other at the worst time. Perhaps in another life, they would find peace. They would find freedom from this terrible world and find comfort in each other. They just wanted an ending. An ending to the war, an ending to the suppression of true emotions, an ending to the strain on their hearts since the first day of joining the military. They didn’t care where or how, as long as it was an ending together.

[rokas-magical-gateway]

Undeniable Truth

Count Lucio x Gender Neutral MC

EDIT: I recently re-realized that this is the first thing I've seriously written in literally 10 years so, constructive criticism is definitely welcome... Thank you!

Fanfiction inspired by these pieces of art:

Left: @jyuukichannart

Right: @imaridraws

Tags: Scars, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Rating: PG-13?

He shivered a little as they gently grazed the tips of their fingers along the scar on his ribs, already lidded silver eyes falling the rest of the way closed as a soft sigh slid past his lips...

The fingers of their other hand continued to reverently caress thick, golden locks as they slowly glided through the silken strands, but then the fingers of their previous hand ghosted along fair skin to lovingly trace the occasional lines that mark it: his ribs, across his toned stomach to jump to his wrist, caressing the lines that criss-cross that arm...

He almost wanted to tell them to stop; he hated it when people paid so much attention to his scars; he had other, far more lavish features to admire, he could never understand the bemusement toward the abhorrent imperfections. He melted under their touch, though, & despite his mild uncertainty, he found himself keeping silent to simply enjoy the feeling of their hands on him, the touch he always craved.

Fingers tenderly continued along across his neck - earning the slightest shiver as he was brought back from his musings - to the mark leading to the junction of his shoulder & neck, falling lazily to trace along his clavicle until it met cool metal, where it changed course to begin to outline the anchor for the golden prosthetic & before either could think his other hand had their wrist in a vice like grip.

The sudden force surprised them & they couldn't help the flinch before they looked again & their eyes met the steel of his irises beneath his now deeply furrowed brows. It winded them for a moment, that stare, before they recalled that the only steel in that gaze were the bars put there to hold the emotions in check. After a moment's hesitation, their free hand continued through his hair, just as reverently, nothing but love as they managed to hold those guarded, yet burning eyes.

"Please...?" They pleaded gently which drew a flush to his cheeks, immediately softening the rest of his features a little.

He was certain they'd said "please" before, but the weight of the plea despite the softness of their voice would have floored him had he not been resting in their lap already. Even on the occasions when he took the dominant role he couldn't help but to love & spoil them without abandon, unable to leave them want for anything, but...

Searching their eyes for some answer, his grip on them relaxed just enough & they brought their hand away from the place that had so offended him to caress the side of his face. He'd started worrying at his lower lip so they leaned down to take it from him, gently sucking it into a kiss as they used their hands along his face & in his hair to pull him to them just a little, earning another soft sigh as he relaxed a little more.

"Please...?" They whispered again, a little breathless, but just as weighted.

"Yes, anything you want," he answered so quietly, unable to resist them, but so reluctant.

They didn't move away as their hand slowly, *carefully* eased back down his neck & along his shoulder again, instead pressing reassuring little kisses to the corner of his mouth & down along his chin.

He shivered again tangling his fingers into their hair & hoping to distract himself from his nagging thoughts as his partner found the anchor again & traced down along it until they found the deepest scarring where the prosthetic met his shoulder. He nearly whined with the effort to keep from snatching up their wrist again, instead tightening his grip in their hair, tangling his fingers a little deeper, his golden hand starting to tremble a little.

"It's alright," they found themself gently cooing against his lips as they affectionately rubbed their noses together. "I love you, Lucio."

"I love you, too," he breathed lifting his still trembling hand to slide underneath their hair & rest against the back of their neck, the cool metal making them tremble just a little before he pulled them in to close the short distance between their mouths, eliciting a soft whine of surprise before they melted into his trembling lips.

Their hands continued caressing him, one barely resisting the urge to tangle & pull his pretty blond hair, continuing instead to adoringly stroke him like a treasured pet & the other falling to continue following the line of his prostethic, tenderly stroking along all the scarring there. As they traced the junction of flesh & metal underneath his arm, his fingers tangled painfully tighter into their hair as some sound between a whine & a moan escaped from him into their mouth making them shiver & pull back just a little to gaze down at his flushed face. They were taken aback by the tears as they began to slide from where they'd collected around his silver eyes, causing them to glitter beautifully despite the heart wrenching expression across his normally proud features.

"Oh, Lucio..."

Both of their hands made their way to his cheeks so that they could caress his face, carefully thumbing away the tears & trailing eyeliner around his eyes; a fruitless effort as they continued down his cheeks & their hands anyway.

"Why...?" He managed to choke out around the sobs he was trying to hold back.

At first they didn't understand & they didn't want to hesitate too long while he was so fragile, but thankfully as they opened their mouth to respond, they realized what he meant.

"You're beautiful, my love; I just crave to touch you," they answered, managing what they hoped was a convincing smile which was hard with how worried for him they were.

He looked away. Actually turned his whole head to look away. They didn't like that; even fully submitted to them, he didn't do that.

"Not that part..."

"Yes, that part!" They used their hands still on his face to make him meet their eyes again. "ALL of you! Every centimeter!"

His eyes widened a little before he turned them away, teeth finding his lip once again. He'd planned to disagree, but knew better & bit back the protest.

When they shifted his head from their lap, freeing him from their grasp & convincing him to loosen his own, so they could stand up, he was certain they'd given up & would leave. He almost wished they would, but he knew that if they did he'd remember how worthless & alone he felt & yearn for them again only to have chased-

Familiar weight settled across his waist & the plush couch sank beneath him as he gazed with tear blurred vision up at the being straddling him, moisture collecting & threatening to fall from their eyes, too. While they had his attention again, they leaned down over him, curling their arms around the back of his neck to tangle their fingers back into his hair as they pressed their body as close to his as they could, crushing their mouths together once more. They shivered against him as he moaned into the kiss, wrapping his prosthetic around their waist while his other arm snaked up their back so that he could rest his hand along the nape of their neck, pulling them impossibly closer.

They stayed like that for a short time: tightly wrapped up in one another while they eagerly explored each other's mouths, gasping desperately between soft sounds of delight as they lost themselves in one another, their tears momentarily forgotten in their affection for each other. But, finally, the pair parted for an actual breath; they stayed hovering inches over him while both of them gazed into one another's red-rimmed eyes.

"I love you, Montag," they declared shakily, "I love every part of you. All I could ever see when I look at you is indefectible beauty, why don't you believe that?"

His breathing picked up a little at the sound of his birth name on their lips. They were the only one he allowed to know & use it, though they seldomly did. He hung on to every word, silently cursing himself as he felt his throat tighten again.

"How can..." he had to swallow back the tears once again, "how can you say that any of this," he stopped to shift his shoulder a little beneath them, emphasizing his prosthetic, or rather, the scarring associated & surely the rest of his scars, too, "is beautiful?" His voice started to waver making his already distinct accent a little more pronounced. "If I'd been stronger, I'd have been able to better protect myself. What kind of warrior loses an arm? & days after the fact to AMPUTATION?!" He was frantic, nearly seething by the end.

"A *strong* one," they pressed firmly, emphasizing it with a slight tug on his hair to redirect his attention back from within himself to out there with them. "A warrior who could have died, but *lived*. A warrior who has seen countless battlefields & endured much pain to get to where he is." They allowed their voice to soften as his expression did; he was truly listening now. "A warrior who *perseveres* instead of submitting to death under the guise of honor. A true warrior."

A hand slid from his hair to gently rest along his neck, thumb stroking along the underside of his jaw. His face wasn't wholly relaxed yet, but he looked a little more serene under the touch, his eyes softening slightly & his lips parting just a little; he was processing what they'd said.

"Y-you really believe that."

It could have been a question, but the tone made it a statement. They felt a smile tug at the corners of their mouth at that child of a man. Gods how they wanted to just hold him tight & help him forget all the bad things that had made him grow to feel the way he did about himself.

For the time, though, they ghosted their lips along the other side of his jaw, earning yet another shiver & a soft gasp until their lips reached his in a featherlight touch so they could give him their answer:

"Absolutely."

His own lips parted with some other sound, but they swallowed it in a kiss that had him trembling beneath them as soon as their lips met his. Fingers eagerly slid up into their hair inspiring them to trail theirs down his chest to rest over his fluttering heart with a gratified moan.

"Mm, Montag~" They managed, pulling back only enough to focus on lidded silver eyes.

"Yes, my Deity," he answered, his voice slow & husky.

His golden hair was tousled beyond any quick fix, strewn here & there with a few pieces having fallen felicitously in his face, drawing to his eyes. The makeup was smudged & streaked & they were still a little puffy & bloodshot from his tears, but it only made the softness behind, those foxy eyes more apparent; the truth he tried so hard to hide from everyone laid bare for only them to see: he just wanted to be loved & to share that love in return without fear of admonishment.

Their lips brushed the shell of his ear as they whispered to him,

"Let me show you how comely I think you are~?"

A gently posed question, with deep promises that finally brought some of that familiar mischief to his face; his eyes starting to twinkle as the smile began to play at his lips.

"I am putty in your hands ready to be molded to your whims," he started with quiet confidence only to writhe with a whine as they licked along his ear to gently nibble the lobe. "P-p-please show me h-how fet-fetching I can be..." Their lips trailed to his neck nipping a little so that he moaned the last part. "I'm yours~"

And sometimes it was absolutely impossible to believe but, as they sat all the way back to admire the flushed, disarranged mess that was the Count of Vesuvia, more at ease & completely vulnerable below them, it proved to be absolutely undeniable truth.