#[ me quietly sobbing in the background ]

[ednaeflowers]

@crystallizedflowers : ❝  you're always taking care of my hair, edna. can i try braiding yours for once. lailah , alisha , and rose taught me something called french braids and i wanted to try it on you. ❞ he pauses , only realizing after uttering the words does mikleo realize how ridiculous it sounds coming from him.❝  or not i can't force you or anything. ❞ but those beautiful amethyst eyes are looking at edna with all the love and adoration in the world. his words might not always be the easiest but his heart? mikleo's heart had always lived on his fingertips when it came to her.

she doesn't know where to begin, so she starts with staring blankly at him for a moment. this is actually a lot to process: first off, when did he find the time to visit those three? second: why did he learn how to touch-up hair when he's always wearing the exact same ponytail? third: why did those three teach him that anyway? fourth: she thought he was away, exploring another new place surrounded by dingy old ruins? fifth: did he learn how to braid hair just for her—

edna immediately ceases the thought.

reaching up, she touches her hair absently, staring at his ponytail swaying behind him. his hair is much longer and wavier, so of course she gradually developed a habit of playing with it; it just never occurred to her that he would like to touch her hair in return. hers is much shorter in comparison, leaving not much to work with—though, that never meant she was opposed to getting her hair done at all. lailah and the other girls have touched her hair before, but she figured she could be lenient because she got along better with them, especially when they're at a hot spring and she'd need someone to help dry her hair. onii-chan often patted her head and spoiled her with hair ruffles, so he had always been the special exception to the touch rule. nevertheless, edna has never minded her hair being touched as long as she knows who is touching it.

meebo, though... she is at a loss: after all, he has never expressed interest in her hair, of all things, nor has he ever been this openly thoughtful to her either. back then, she got used to hearing not-answers from him whenever he replied or retorted back at her—but now: now, he is actually being clear with what he wants. now, she actually feels a skip in her chest whenever he looks at her like this. now, they are facing each other with different feelings, and it's remarkable how the old familiarity is still there within their relationship, but also changed: no matter how the world evolves, water and earth still exists all the same.

if sorey asked if he could touch her hair, she would've simply allowed it—but it's different with mikleo. very different. he and sorey grew up together, but her first impression of him was vastly different from her impression of sorey. unlike sorey, meebo retorts to everything, and can get surprisingly temperamental, and seems more sensitive, and while he tries to fit into the role, she thinks it's actually sorey who's more reasonable and rational. he was always by sorey's side, so it's strange to see him facing her now with such an earnest, harmless request, his attention solely given to her.

what she finds most ironic is that if he had asked her this question all those years ago, she would've easily let him, thinking that it would mean nothing in the long run; that it was just something akin to once-in-a-blue-moon type of morbid curiosity from his part. it's because she feels this way for him that it's also why edna is now struggling to show him her different sides, the sides of herself that she doesn't want to show anyone, not even to onii-chan. she doesn't want to show the real edna. no one should see her. she's what edna doesn't want to revert back to.

still.

still: she finds herself untying her ribbon, letting her hair fall down. it reaches somewhere near her shoulder blades, last she remembers. she enjoys having her hair up, only taking it down to sleep, but she hardly sleeps anymore, so it feels different already. he probably feels surprised too. after all, it's his first time seeing her hair naturally down. does she look weird?

❛  here.  ❜ she hands him the ribbon that she's treasured for so many centuries. it is offered on her open palm: a sign of easy, obvious trust. already seated on a boulder, she turns around and lets her back face him. she has her umbrella placed aside, she has nothing set up to ambush or attack him: she has none of that as she simply sits there, her back open and exposed to him. she hasn't trusted someone like this ever since onii-chan left home. perhaps there was lailah, one of her closest friends, but the trust with her was invoked by their longtime sisterhood. the trust for mikleo stems from something else: something a lot closer to the heart, something that is woven from many days of waiting, something that only exists within the lapse of the waves meeting the shore.

❛  i'm going to hit you if you mess up, tug too hard, or give me tangles,  ❜ she warns, but she's certain he knows it's an empty threat. after all, why would she show her back to him then, completely unarmed? he wouldn't hurt her. she is sure of it. not to mention, it has been a while since he's last stopped by. the time together would be nice, even if he's being a dork again. she has always been simple; when it comes down to spending time with someone, it doesn't matter what they do as long as they are together. living alone for so long, edna values that foremost.

( maybe in another universe, it would be easier to just admit that she missed him. )

her eyes soften, staring at the scenery as she waits patiently for him to start. ❛  if it turns out decent, then i'll let you be my hair stylist, meebo. it should be the highest honor you'll ever get, even more than manservant.  ❜ seraphim can't appear in mirrors, so she has to depend on him anyway. maybe he can be reliable sometimes. just sometimes. she also has no idea what a french braid looks like, so maybe she'll keep the umbrella on standby, though. she doesn't mind an image change, but she needs to know she won't end up looking like a bird's nest by the end of this. ❛  and if you were taught by three people, then i already have high expectations. no pressure.  ❜

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Do you love me?

Pairings - Rafe x reader

Summary - you catch Rafe watching porn. Based on this ask

Warnings - masturbation, porn, reader being sad, language, unprotected sex. (18+)

A/n- always have the conversation with your partner about porn, some people don’t care but others do so please don’t leave any rude comments.

When you had gone looking for your boyfriend around 11pm you had expected to find him asleep on the couch, credits to the movie the two of you had tried watching running in the background. White noise helped him sleep. What you hadn’t expected to find was your boyfriend watching porn, on the big screen. His cock between his hand as he tugged himself, soft moans and grunts spewing from his lips as he watched the scene in front of him.

A perfect curved blonde bounced on a thick cock, her pussy was immaculate. No hair or razor burn to be seen, just complete bareness. She was everything you weren’t, even the noises she made was better.

You had been so naive to think he didn’t watch porn, to believe you were enough to satisfy his needs. Of course you weren’t, you didn’t look like the girl on the screen. Your curves weren’t perfect, your hair didn’t look like that and you definitely didn’t sound or act the way she did which apparently had Rafe beating his cock harder.

Stepping away from the door you creeped back to the bedroom, the tears fell before you even made it under the blanket. Your body shaking against the mattress in sadness, this shouldn’t have such an affect on you. Everyone watches porn, you’ve watched porn but that was before Rafe. Before you had his perfect body at your disposal.

Pressing the palms of your hands into your face to ease the tears, taking deep breaths to stop the noises. The sound of the living room door closing has you burrowing under the blanket, hiding your face so he can’t see you.

It feels like hours go by before he steps into the room, moving around quietly as he strips his clothes off. He always slept naked, a sight you’d never get over. You feel his side of the bed dip and the ruffle of the blanket, you don’t expect his arm to pull you against his chest. “You're awake” he whispers, the thump of your heart giving you away. His hand pressed firmly just above your breast, you stay quiet though. Hoping he just lets you go to sleep but of course he doesn’t, he’s spinning your body like a rag doll. “Why’s your heart beating so fast?”.

The room is pitch black, he’s unable to see your bloodshot eyes. His fingers dance up and down your spine waiting for your answer. “Not sure” your voice is raspy, a tell tale sign something’s wrong. His hand is hitting the bedside lamp within seconds, towering over your small frame. Fingers cupping your cheek softly, his eyes search your face and a deep frown settle between his eyebrows. “Why have you been crying?”.

You push at his chest, turning until your back is to him. Embarrassment settles in your chest, a sudden wave of nausea rushes through you. “Babe, don’t do that. Tell me why you’ve been crying?”

With all the confidence you can muster you turn slightly, looking him directly in the eyes. “Do you still love me?”

The deep chuckle vibrates his chest and he pulls himself to sit, your cheeks tinted red in anger and embarrassment you press your face into the pillow. “Oh hey hey babe no. Of course I love you. Why would you ask me that?”

His grabby hands prod you in the side, pulling at your waist so he can see your face. You slap his hands away when they reach for your face again, moving yourself until you say against the headboard. Knees pressed firmly to your chest, arms wrapped tight around you. “Are you attracted to me?” Tears start falling before you can catch them, bottom lip wobbling as you stare at him. The sobs come hard and fast, he’s holding your face firmly.

This time he stares at you, it's intense and you feel shy under his gaze. “Of course I am… your fucking perfect”

Your eyes rolled hard, no you weren’t. The tears keep coming but the attitude fights it way through. “Don’t roll your eyes” he grasps your wrists, yanking you until you straddle his lap. “No I'm not.. I don’t look like those girls”

Confusion evident on his face as he waits for you to explain, so unsure on what has made you feel this way. “Those girls” you whispered, too shy to explain you had caught him masterbsting to porn earlier. “Your going to need to explain baby”

“The girls in porn” you blurt, the corner of his lips turning up. A lightbulb going off above his head, he realises you must have seen him earlier. “I went to find you… I thought you’d fallen asleep, I didn’t mean to see you- you’know”.

Gripping your chin with his forefinger and thumb he angles your face up at him, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You think I don’t love you because of the girls in porn?”

You nod your head in embarrassment, you know you shouldn’t be feeling these things. “I was right here.. why didn’t you ask me to help?”

“Oh baby… your fucking perfect, those girls aren’t what I want. You are what I want… I watch porn when I don’t want to annoy you”

“Your not annoying me”

“Your pussy is fantastic, the best fucking pussy I’ve ever had. I can’t get enough of it, I can’t get enough of fucking you… I love fucking you”

“Sweet girl, my sex drive is insane. I’m constantly horny, I can’t expect you to be willing and waiting for me every second of the day”

“Yes you can Rafe… if I’m around then use me, I understand if I’m not around. Of course porn would be your go to but I’m right here, I want you just as much as you want me and if it’s not sex you want, I’ll get on my knees for you”

He grins Cheshire Cat like, pupils blown to the max. His lips attack yours in one swift swoop, tongue slipping between your lips. It’s messy and full of heat, his grabby hands caress the skin of your exposed thighs.

Grinding you down onto his crotch, you can feel him hardening under you. You had forgotten he was naked for a brief moment, reaching down to grasp his cock. With just a few small tugs he was completely hard, throbbing in your palm. “Fuck baby… I hope you mean what your saying, I’m going to fuck this pussy until it’s a weeping mess every day… multiple times of the day” he states, kissing down the length of your neck.

He’s pulling your shorts to the side, pressing the head of his cock to your opening. Without warning you push down on him, his cock stretching you wide. “Shit… baby girl, I just about came. You feel so fucking good” he growls, he scoops your breasts out of the loose tank top. Sucking your nipples into his mouth harshly, your hips roll and bounce above him. “Not so fast, I want to show you how much I love fucking you” he breaths, wrapping his arm around your back he places you onto the bed.

Your legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts into you, it's deep and slow. Your walls spasm around him each time he nudges your clit, his lips suck deep purple bruises into your neck. “Oh yes Rafe… I can’t- I need you to go faster” you breath, your orgasm was fluttering.

Pressing the heels of your feet into his lower back, he shook his head moving his lips across your jaw onto your lips. His pace quickened only by a fraction, not enough to bring you over the edge. “Going slow baby.. want you to understand how much I love you and how much I love this body, you are the only person I want”

You nod your head, understanding his words. You had over reacted to what you had seen, completely understanding why he used porn at certain times. “Yes baby.. I understand. Please”

He loved hearing you beg, he knew you were close by the way your cunt sucked him deeper. He reached between you, pressing his fingers to your aching clit. “Yes yes yes”

This was enough to have you crying out under him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him in close. Fingernails racking up the length of his back as your orgasm washed over you, he was quick to follow, still sensitive from his previous abuse on his cock.

“I love you baby… not porn okay”

“I know, but I was serious… use me okay. I’m here whenever you want me”

“Your going to regret that”

🏷️ Tag list- @laylasbunbunny @maybankslover @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @mrssturnioloo @darleneslane @tierra-0604 @eliana772 @gabys-gabs @applelovesposts @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly-blog @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @hdhdhsy @speedycomputerfury @tiacordelia02 @bbycowboi @teresalesbian @imnotpretzelsstuff @its-ria-07 @jscameron @rafegirly @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut @loverofdrewstarkey @ijustwanttoreadlols @sierraluvzz @sunny1616 @spookyscaryspoon @slvttedoutmars @ailee-celeste @ashpeace888 @xo-hayleyy-xo @exhaustedbutrelated @ethereal0810 @tayygriffith @pankowperfection @loopylemonpops @oceandriveab

[hoshifighting]

Crush on Music Student Jihoon

"So, I couldn't help but overhear something at lunch today," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. Your heart skips a beat as you try to recall what you might have said that caught his attention. "Oh? What did you hear?"

Jihoon chuckles softly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Well, it sounded like someone might have been talking about me..."

— Synopsis: Where you have a little crush on the music student Jihoon. He definitively is not like the jocks from the campus, his quiet demeanor between his loud friends, calls your attention, and your friends tell you to let go of this crush once and for all. But Jihoon shows up to show you that your admiration for him was worth it. — WC: 5.8k — WARNINGS: Smut, dirty talk, praising, overwhelming, fingering, blowjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, public kiss, their friends having a heart-attack when they kiss, tears and sobs of pleasure, g'spot stimulation and etc.

So, here you are, finally in college. No more high school drama, no more teachers breathing down your neck, and no more petty cliques. It's like a whole new world, and you're loving every minute of it.

College is different. People here have their own inspirations, their own goals, and their own quirks. It's refreshing to be surrounded by so much diversity. You feel more mature than ever, like you're finally coming into your own.

But then there's Jihoon. Your friends won't let you forget about him. He's a music student, from the same campus, and apparently, he's got you feeling all sorts of things. They tease you mercilessly, saying you're acting like a girl in high school with a crush.

"Ah, Jihoon. He's always been the quiet type…" They say. You've noticed it too. While his friends are loud and outgoing, he's content to stay in the background, quietly observing the world around him. It's one of the things that drew you to him in the first place.

But your friends don't seem to understand. They keep trying to push you towards guys like Dokyeom or Seungkwan, who are the complete opposite of Jihoon. Dokyeom, with his extroverted personality and vibrant energy, always seems to be the life of the party. And Seungkwan, well, he's practically a celebrity on campus with his charm and athleticism.

But as much as you appreciate their efforts, your heart just isn't in it. While your friends are off drooling over Mingyu at the football games, you prefer to sit quietly in the back of the university theater, listening to the sweet sounds that emanate from Jihoon's fingers as he plays guitar or piano.

You're sitting with your friends at lunch, trying to enjoy your meal while Jihoon's group of friends acts loud and rowdy as usual. Jihoon himself is sitting nearby, quietly changing papers, which you assume are lyrics for his music.

"So, when are you going to talk to him?" Hyeson asks, a mischievous glint in her eye.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed. "I don't know, maybe when I feel like it," you reply nonchalantly, taking a bite of your sandwich.

Your other friend, Seungjun, chimes in, "Come on, you've been crushing on him forever. He's probably too shy to come and ask you out. Or maybe he's too busy burying his face in those ridiculous scores."

ou shrug, trying to play it cool. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just enjoy his music, that's all."

But your friends aren't buying it. They exchange knowing looks before turning back to you with raised eyebrows.

"Come on, you can't deny that there's something there," Hyeson says, leaning in closer. "Why don't you just go talk to him? What's the worst that could happen?"

You hesitate, chewing on your lip as you consider the idea. "I don't know... What if he thinks I'm weird or something?"

Your friend rolls her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. "You've practically had the whole college eating out of the palm of your hand since you started to study here."

You feel a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck as she lays it all out there. "I don't know if I'd say that..."

But she cuts you off before you can finish. "Come on, Y/n. Let's be real here. You've practically dismissed every other guy in this place because you only have eyes for Jihoon. And you're worried about him thinking you're weird?"

The conversation about Jihoon continues to flow at the table, with your friend passionately expressing her opinions. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot Mingyu approaching. Your friend doesn't seem to notice, her mouth still going a mile a minute about Jihoon.

Quickly, you reach out and wrap a hand around her mouth, effectively cutting off her words. She widens her eyes in surprise, shooting you a confused look as Mingyu stands next to your table, likely coming over to talk to you all.

Mingyu starts talking about the upcoming football game this night, mentioning that there's going to be a frat party afterward. Your friend's ears perk up at the mention of Jihoon, and she can't help but blurt out, "Is Jihoon going to be there?"

Mingyu furrows his brow in confusion, glancing over at Jihoon who is still engrossed in his papers at the other table. "I don't know," he replies honestly. "It's been a long time since he appeared at one of our parties."

But then Mingyu's gaze returns to your friend, a puzzled expression crossing his face. "Wait, why do you ask? Does someone here have a crush on Jihoon?" he asks, his voice a little too loud for comfort.

You widen your eyes in alarm, shooting a panicked glance at Jihoon and his friends who are now looking over at your table, clearly intrigued by the mention of Jihoon's name.

Your friend's eyes widen in shock, realizing that his question may have been a little too loud. "Um, well..." she stammers, searching for an excuse.

But before she can come up with anything, Mingyu's gaze returns to Jihoon's table, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Looks like someone has some explaining to do," he says, loud enough for Jihoon to hear.

"Oh my god, I fucking hate y'all…" 

[...]

As you make your way to the promised frat party tonight, your friend nudges you gently and says, "Come on, Y/n-nie, don't be mad at us. We're just having some fun."

You shoot her a playful glare before sighing and shaking your head. "I know, I know. I'm not really mad. Just a little nervous, that's all."

But your other friend chimes in, unable to resist poking fun at the situation. "Seriously, though, I still don't understand why you like him that much. He doesn't even look like he fucks."

You roll your eyes at her crude remark, feeling a flush of heat rise to your cheeks. Brushing away the thought of your recent fantasies about Jihoon, you try to play it off coolly. "Oh, please. You don't know anything about him."

But deep down, you can't deny the truth in her words. Jihoon may seem shy and reserved on the surface, but there's a fire burning beneath that quiet exterior. And just the thought of him touching you, of him fucking you, sends a shiver down your spine.

How is Jihoon's cock? Could he really fuck you like you've been fantasizing about? The image of him moaning beautifully as he sings, his fingers dancing effortlessly across the strings of his guitar, sends a wave of desire crashing over you.

You squeeze your legs tight together, trying to ignore the pulsing ache between them as you continue towards the party. Each step brings you closer to the possibility of seeing Jihoon again, of finally making your move.

But as you approach the frat house, the thumping bass of the music growing louder with each passing second, you push those thoughts to the back of your mind. Your friend's little black dress that she lent you, hugs your curves in all the right places, a departure from your usual style, but you can't deny that it looks amazing on you.

She had insisted that Jihoon would love it, teasing you about your "Jihonnie" and the potential for a romantic encounter tonight. You couldn't help but laugh at her antics, secretly hoping that she might be right.

But as you glance around the crowded place, your heart sinks a little. Jihoon is nowhere to be seen. You try to push down the disappointment, reminding yourself that there are plenty of other people to talk to and enjoy the party with.

You lean against the bar, swirling your punch in your hand as you chat with your friend. Her eyes suddenly light up, and she says something that makes you furrow your brow in confusion. Glancing over your shoulder, you spot Mingyu walking towards you, with Jihoon by his side.

Jihoon walks with his hands in his pockets, his black shirt hugging his muscular arms perfectly, while his hair falls in his face in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. Your friend takes the hint and excuses herself, leaving you alone with the boys.

Mingyu gives you a sly grin and nudges Jihoon in your direction. "Go on, hyung," he says encouragingly. "You've been wanting to talk to her all day."

Jihoon's cheeks turn a faint shade of red as he leans against the bar with a sheepish smile. "Uh, hey," he says softly, his voice barely audible over the music. "Mind if I join you?"

You feel a rush of excitement as Jihoon starts a conversation, his shy demeanor only adding to his charm. "Of course," you reply with a smile, motioning for him to take a seat next to you.

As the conversation continues to flow between you and Jihoon, you find yourselves laughing and exchanging stories about your time at college. You're pleasantly surprised by how easy it is to talk to him, and before you know it, hours have flown by.

Suddenly, Jihoon pauses mid-sentence, a playful glint in his eyes. "So, I couldn't help but overhear something at lunch today," he says, his voice tinged with amusement.

Your heart skips a beat as you try to recall what you might have said that caught his attention. "Oh? What did you hear?" you ask, feigning innocence as you take a sip of your punch.

Jihoon chuckles softly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Well, it sounded like someone might have been talking about me," he admits, his eyes meeting yours with a shy smile.

You can't help but scoff at his comment, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over you. "You mean Mingyu mentioning your name out loud?" you reply, trying to play it off coolly.

Jihoon laughs and nods, his smile widening. "Yeah" he says with a nod. "I guess I've been on your friends' minds lately."

You chuckle, feeling a rush of embarrassment wash over you at the thought of Jihoon overhearing your friends teasing you about your crush on him. "Yeah, sorry about that," you say sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck. "My friends can be a little... outspoken."

But Jihoon just shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. "No need to apologize. It's actually kind of flattering," he says, his gaze meeting yours with warmth. "And to be honest, I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now."

Your heart skips a beat at Jihoon's confession, and you feel a rush of excitement as you muster up the courage to admit your own feelings. "Yeah, I've been wanting it too," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jihoon's face lights up with a genuine smile, and he leans in closer, his eyes shining with curiosity. "Oh yeah? What have you been wanting to talk to me about?" he asks eagerly.

You feel a pang of panic shoot through you as you realize you hadn't prepared an answer to that question. You stutter for a moment, trying to come up with something to say.

Finally, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "Um, your music project! It sounds awesome," you say, mentally kicking yourself for not being more prepared.

You can tell by the look on his face that he knows there's more to it than just his music project. And as the silence stretches between you, you can't help but feel a sense of unease settle over you.

"I was expecting something else," Jihoon says with a small, teasing smirk, his voice laced with mock disappointment.

A strange tension hangs in the air between you, and you can feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You wish you had been more honest with him, you can't help but wonder if this awkward moment has ruined your chance with him. With a heavy sigh, you take a sip of your drink.

You feel the unease settling in, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach as you realize the gravity of the situation. Are you really going to lose this chance? Are you really going to ruin this opportunity?

Hell no.

Your hand clenches around the red cup with more force as you weigh your options. Taking a deep breath, you muster up the courage to speak, determined not to let this moment slip away.

"That's not what I meant," you say, meeting Jihoon's curious gaze with determination.

Jihoon raises an eyebrow in confusion, waiting for you to continue.

"No, I mean, your songs are really awesome," you clarify. "But I have one more thing to say."

You lean in closer, your lips hovering just inches from his ear as you whisper softly, "I've been wanting to do this for a long time."

Before Jihoon can react, you close the gap between you, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. The world fades away as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, your bodies pressed together in an electrifying embrace.

Jihoon responds eagerly, his hands finding their way to your waist as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matches your own. In that moment, there's no awkwardness, no tension, only the undeniable chemistry between you and Jihoon igniting into something fiery and intoxicating.

You break the kiss, your lips still tingling with the remnants of his touch, feeling flushed, satisfied, and breathless. A sweet taste lingers on your palate as you lean against Jihoon's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

Jihoon's breath is ragged as he pulls back slightly, his eyes locked on yours with a mixture of desire and adoration. "Let's get out of here," he says softly, his voice husky with emotion. "Before our friends have a heart attack."

You glance over at Mingyu and your friends, who are practically collapsing with shock after witnessing your kiss. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Jihoon's hand intertwining with yours brings you back to the present moment.

You nod in agreement, grateful for his quick thinking, and allow him to lead you away from the crowded room. As you step outside into the cool night air, a sense of freedom washes over you, and you find yourself smiling up at Jihoon.

"Sorry about that," you say, a hint of amusement in your voice as you squeeze his hand. "I didn't mean to cause a scene."

Jihoon just chuckles softly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "No need to apologize," he murmurs, his voice warm and reassuring. "I'm just glad I finally got to kiss you."

"You should have kissed me before," you tease, nudging Jihoon playfully as you walk together across the campus, heading towards the dorms.

Jihoon chuckles, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. "Oh, really? And risk giving our friends a heart attack sooner?" he replies with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You roll your eyes at his response, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "Fair point," you concede, leaning into his side as you continue to walk. "But you could have at least hinted that you wanted to kiss me earlier."

Jihoon's smile softens, his gaze turning tender as he looks down at you. "Oh, really? And here I was thinking you were the one making all the moves," he says softly, his thumb tracing circles on your hip.

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation, swatting at his arm playfully. "Hey, I can't do all the work," you retort, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It's about time you stepped up your game."

Jihoon chuckles, leaning in closer to press a soft kiss to your cheek. "Well, consider this me stepping up," he says, his voice low and husky as he pulls back to meet your gaze. "And trust me, I have plenty more where that came from."

As you and Jihoon approach his dorm, the air is charged with anticipation, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach. The conversation flows effortlessly between you, filled with laughter and teasing banter as you navigate the familiar paths of the campus.

"So, you're telling me that you're going to make up for lost time?" you ask with a playful smirk, nudging Jihoon's side as you walk.

Jihoon chuckles, his eyes glinting mischievously as he glances over at you. "Oh, you have no idea," he replies, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

As you reach his dorm door, Jihoon suddenly stops in his tracks, turning to face you with a wicked grin. Before you can react, he slams you against the door with a sudden force, his hands grabbing your ass firmly as he leans in to kiss your neck.

A gasp escapes your lips as his lips trail along your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel his warmth radiating against you, his strong arms holding you tightly as you cling to him, your hands gripping his biceps desperately.

With a sense of urgency, Jihoon grabs the door handle and swings it open, pulling you into his room with him. The moment you step inside, the door closes behind you with a soft click, and you find yourselves enveloped in darkness, save for the faint glow of the moonlight streaming through the window.

Unable to detach your bodies from each other, you stumble forward, your lips locked in a passionate kiss. Jihoon's hands roam freely over your body, igniting sparks of desire with each touch, while your own hands explore the contours of his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles beneath his shirt.

Jihoon's eyes search yours, filled with desire. "Tell me," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You furrow your brow in confusion for a moment before he repeats himself, his tone more insistent this time. "I want you to tell me, with words."

You feel a thrill run through you at his words, and you hold onto him tighter, your lips still brushing against each other as you melt into his embrace.

For a moment, you're lost in the sensation of being so close to him, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to find the right words to express how you feel.

And then, before you can respond, Jihoon speaks again, his voice teasing and playful. "Come on, Y/n-nie," he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you want me."

You can't help but chuckle at his bold request, feeling a rush of heat spread through you at the thought of indulging his playful banter. "Why?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in mock innocence. "Are you planning to use this in your songs?" you ask breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper as his hands slip under the fabric of your little black dress, hands find their way to your breasts.

Jihoon laughs at your response, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he shakes his head. "Who knows?" he replies with a smirk. "But I think I'd much rather hear it from your lips than write it in a song."

You roll your eyes playfully, a smirk playing on your lips. "Fine," you say, leaning in closer to whisper in his ear. "But you're going to owe me for this."

With a sly grin, you reach down and find the waistband of his pants and underwear, pulling them down in one swift motion. Jihoon gasps in surprise as his pink, big cock springs free, standing shiny and eager in the dim light.

You can't help but let out a low moan at the sight, desire coursing through you as you gaze hungrily at him. "God, I wanted this cock so bad," you whisper, your voice dripping with desire. "I've been dreaming about it for so long."

As Jihoon holds back the urge to roll his eyes at your words, you lean in closer, your breath hot against his skin as you lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. He lets out a low groan, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt as he tries to steady himself against the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him. "Hmm Y/N yes!" 

With a hungry desire, you take his cock into your mouth, filling your cheeks with his hardness as you work him with eager enthusiasm. Jihoon's hands tremble slightly as he holds onto his shirt, his moans growing louder and more desperate with each movement of your mouth.

Feeling your own arousal building with each passing second, you can't help but reach down between your legs, pushing your panties to the side as you slide your fingers into your dripping wet pussy. You can't help but moan around Jihoon's cock as you pleasure yourself.

Jihoon's moans grow even louder at the sound, his hips bucking involuntarily as he struggles to hold back his release. "Fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cumming," he says, head thrown back. With each thrust of your mouth and each stroke of your fingers in your pussy, the tension in the room grows thicker, until finally, with a loud cry, Jihoon reaches his climax, his hot cum spilling into your mouth.

As you swallow eagerly, relishing the taste of Jihoon's release, you feel a surge of ecstasy coursing through you. But before you can fully enjoy the moment, Jihoon's voice cuts through the haze of pleasure, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Stop," he says, his voice hoarse with desire.

You reluctantly remove your hand from between your legs, your fingers still slick with arousal as you look up at Jihoon with glazed eyes. He takes your hand in his, pulling you to your feet and guiding you towards his bed.

Your dress is now bunched up around your waist, the fabric clinging to your skin as Jihoon manages to remove his shirt with trembling hands. You can feel the heat radiating off his body as he presses you gently onto the bed, his hands roaming over your exposed skin.

With a sense of urgency, Jihoon leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he explores every inch of your mouth. You moan softly into the kiss, the sensation of his lips making you feel rewarded.

As Jihoon's hand finds the fabric of your panties and tugs them down your legs, throwing the piece away, you shiver with anticipation, your arousal pooling between your thighs. His fingers find your sopping wet cunt, and you moan at the slight touch, your body trembling with desire.

With a wicked grin, Jihoon leans in close, his voice low and husky as he begins to dirty talk to you. "You know, Y/n-nie," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "I saw you all those times you sat in the auditorium, watching me play."

You gasp at his words, the memory of those moments flooding your mind as you feel a surge of heat spreading through you. "I loved knowing you were there, looking at me, wanting me." Jihoon continues, his voice dripping with desire. "I couldn't help but wonder what was passing through your little filthy mind as you watched me." 

"Did you imagine me touching you, pleasing you, making you scream my name?"

His words send a surge of desire rushing through you, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. With a desperate need, you arch your hips towards him, silently begging for more as you lose yourself in the intoxicating heatness of Jihoon's dirty talk.

s Jihoon's fingers sink inside your pussy, you let out a gasp of pleasure, the sensation overwhelming your senses. Your mouth opens to answer him, but all that escapes is a string of expletives as pleasure washes over you.

"Fuck!" you swear, your voice strained with desire as Jihoon's fingers move inside you. The sound of your arousal fills the room, loud and squelching as his fingers slide in and out, your wetness coating his hand with each delicious thrust.

His movements are slow and deliberate, each stroke driving you closer and closer to the edge. You squirm beneath him, your body writhing with pleasure as ragged gasps leave your lips. With each movement of his fingers, you feel yourself spiraling out of control, lost in the intoxicating heat of the moment.

And as Jihoon continues to drive you wild with his fingers, his voice fills the air with a mixture of desire and frustration. "Fuck," he breathes, his words heavy with longing. "Everyone told me to take action, but..."

But what? You find yourself holding your breath, waiting for Jihoon to finish his sentence. But he doesn't say anything else, leaving the words hanging in the air between you, tantalizingly unfinished.

You can feel the tension mounting, the anticipation building as you wait for Jihoon to speak again. But instead of words, he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "But now that I have you like this, begging for more," Jihoon continues, his voice dripping with lust, "I never want to let you go." 

The admission sends a thrill of excitement coursing through you, knowing that Jihoon has been thinking about this moment just as much as you have. 

As Jihoon pumps his fingers inside you, you grip his forearm tightly, feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch. Your head spins with pleasure, and your stomach flutters with anticipation as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

Every sensation is overwhelming, from the scent of his cologne to the intensity of his gaze, to the sound of his voice saying all those filthy things that send shivers down your spine. You're lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy, unable to think about anything except the pleasure coursing through your veins.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, you feel yourself tensing, your pussy throbbing and clenching around Jihoon's fingers. He senses your impending release and curls his fingers inside you, sending you over the edge.

"And I promise," Jihoon murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin, "I'm going to make you feel so good, Y/n-nie. You won't be able to think about anything else but me."

You arch your back, a pornographic moan escaping your lips as you cum around his fingers, your juices coating his hand and forearm in a sticky mess. The intensity of your orgasm is overwhelming, leaving you breathless and trembling in Jihoon's arms.

"You're amazing," Jihoon continues, his voice low and sensual. "The way you moan, the way you tremble beneath my touch... It's driving me wild."

You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a surge of arousal coursing through you at the thought of Jihoon being so captivated by you. His praise is like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and you find yourself craving more with each passing moment.

"Can I fuck this pretty pussy, hm?" Jihoon asks, his voice low and filled with desire, as he flips your clit with his thumb.

You gasp at the sensation, your breath catching in your throat as pleasure shoots through you. "Yes, please," you whisper, your voice thick with need.

Jihoon chuckles softly, a teasing glint in his eyes as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Are you sure you can handle it?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.

You whimper at his words, feeling a surge of desire coursing through you. "Yes," you moan, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you to fuck me until I can't take it anymore."

As Jihoon's tip presses against your slit, you quiver with anticipation, feeling the wet folds parting to welcome him inside. His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his tongue teasing yours as he guides his cock deeper inside you.

You moan into his mouth as he enters you fully, his length stretching you deliciously as he fills you completely. A gasp escapes Jihoon's lips as he sinks into you, the sensation overwhelming both of you with pleasure.

With his cock buried deep inside you, Jihoon opens his mouth in a gasp of ecstasy, his breath hot against your skin. You whimper at the sensation, feeling a surge of desire coursing through you as he bites your chin lightly, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

As Jihoon moves inside of you, his hips rolling with a rhythm that drives you wild, you can't help but cling to him desperately, your hands finding purchase on his back as he fills you up so perfectly. The previous orgasm has left you sensitive and achingly aroused, making it easy for him to slide in and out of you with ease.

You look into his eyes, lost in the depths of his gaze, feeling a connection that transcends words. His necklace brushes against your face with each thrust, a reminder of his presence, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

Tears stream down your face, mingling with the pleasure and overwhelming sensation of having him finally inside you. It's not a dream – Jihoon is here, fucking you with a passion that leaves you breathless and shaking.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent cry of ecstasy as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure, every movement of his hips sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. You hold onto him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you ride the wave of sensation, knowing that this moment will stay with you forever.

As Jihoon's cock hits your G-spot, you arch your back in ecstasy, the pleasure overwhelming you as you cling to him desperately. He watches your reaction with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you.

But then, a sob escapes your lips, the intensity of the sensation bringing tears to your eyes. Jihoon hears your sob and responds by thrusting in the same way, driving you even closer to the edge of pleasure.

You sob even louder at the sensation, the pleasure so intense that it's almost unbearable. But Jihoon is there for you, cooing softly as he continues to move inside you, his touch bringing you both pleasure and comfort.

You call out his name, your words babbling as you try to express just how good it feels. "Jihoon, it's too good," you whimper, your voice thick with desire. "Too good..."

"Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin as he holds you close. "I've got you, Y/n-nie. Just let go and feel it."

As Jihoon turns you around and pushes your head onto the pillow, you let out a scream of pleasure, the intensity of his thrusts overwhelming your senses. With each movement of his hips, you feel yourself weakening, surrendering completely to the pleasure coursing through you.

Jihoon's thrusts are intense, his cock driving deep inside you with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. His hands tremble as he grabs onto you wherever he can, his moans mingling with yours.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, you feel it – the tightening in your stomach, the trembling of your muscles as your pussy walls hug Jihoon's cock tight. He spasms with pleasure everytime you clench around him. 

As you feel the wave of pleasure building inside you, you grip the sheets and pillows tight, your body convulsing with the intensity of the sensation. Jihoon continues to thrust into you with the same relentless rhythm, driving you to the brink of ecstasy with each movement of his hips.

And then, it happens – you cum on his cock, your entire body trembling with the force of your release. A long, exasperated cry escapes your lips as you convulse around him, your pussy gushing with wetness as you ride the waves of pleasure.

Jihoon watches you in awe, his own desire reaching a fever pitch as he sees you spasming and creaming around his cock. He holds himself back with every ounce of willpower he has, determined to wait until you're fully satisfied before allowing himself to succumb to his own release.

But as he feels you tightening around him, the sensation driving him to the edge of control, he knows that he won't be able to hold out much longer. With a guttural groan, he lets go, his own climax crashing over him in a tidal wave.

As Jihoon rides out his climax, his cum mixing with yours as it drips from your pussy, the sound of the messy aftermath echoing around the room. You both collapse onto the bed, spent and breathless, the intensity of your orgasms still coursing through your veins.

The room is filled with the scent of sex and sweat, a tangible reminder of the passion that has consumed you both. But as you lie there together, wrapped in each other's arms, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

As Jihoon plays with your hair, breaking the comfortable silence that has settled between you, he asks softly, "Are you going to continue watching me play in the auditorium?"

You smile up at him, your heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him perform again. "Of course," you reply without hesitation. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Jihoon's eyes light up with a hint of mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Good," he says, his voice filled with determination. "But this time, I want you to be in the front row, not on the last chairs."

You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought of being so close to him while he performs. "I'd love that," you murmur, your heart pounding in anticipation.

[mellowsadistic]

“That’s it, baby, let it all out,” I cooed. “Have a big cry. Daddy's here, little girl." I stroked my wife's hair gently while she bawled her eyes out like a two-year-old, sat on the floor of our bedroom wearing nothing but her sopping wet diaper.

She gasped in big lungfuls of air, her bare chest heaving with every shaky breath. “You… did something… to me!” she said between hiccups, batting my hand away and glaring at me accusingly. It seemed that I'd finally been found out.

"What did I do to you, sweetheart?" I asked softly.

"You... turned me... into... a cry... baby!" she sobbed, almost hyperventilating now, her words barely intelligible. "You... want me... like this!"

“That's right, darling," I said, and I saw her tear-filled eyes widen in surprise at my ready confession. "I want to be your Daddy. I want to take care of you. But you've always been so strong and independent. I knew I had to do something to change that, so I used some special hypnosis files, hidden in that night-time background music you like to listen to, to erode your emotional control. It's the same technique I used to take away your potty training.”

She looked at me in horror, but I just chuckled and reached out to stroke her tear-stained cheek lovingly with the back of my fingers. “It’s so sweet that you can’t control when you go pee-pee or poo-poo anymore." I patted the front of her soggy diaper. “And you look so pretty in your princess nappy!”

“You did this to me?” my wife whispered, so shocked that her wracking sobs had come to a halt. Her hand drifted down to the huge disposable diaper bulging between her thighs. "You made me need these?"

"Yes, baby," I said. "I thought making you incontinent would be enough, but even then you were still trying to be self-sufficient; insisting on changing your own nappies, refusing to let me comfort you after an accident. So now you're going to be emotionally incontinent as well, sweetie. No more bottling things up. No more self-control. When you get even the slightest bit upset about something, you'll be in tears."

“But whyyy?!” she wailed, her sobbing returning in full force. "Why did you... do this... to me?!"

“It’s not good for girls to hold in their feelings,” I said, running my fingers through her hair again. She seemed too appalled by what I was saying to even notice. “It’s so much cuter, so much more feminine, when you lose control and have a little meltdown instead.”

“But I don’t… want to be… like this!” she cried.

“I know, darling,” I said soothingly, “but this is how I want you. Daddy knows best. Being a tearful toddler suits you much better than being an adult woman. In any case, there's no undoing the effects of the hypnosis now, little one. I made sure it was completely permanent."

“No!” she wailed, bouncing on her wet bottom and beating her fists impotently against the floor. “It's not fair! I wanna be a grown-up! I wanna use the toilet! I don't wanna be a stupid crybaby! I don't wanna! I don't wanna!" Her words trailed off into incoherent blubbering as she devolved into a massive temper tantrum.

I couldn't help but smile. She looked so adorable! "Hush now, princess," I cooed, shoving a large pink pacifier between my wife's lips. Her mewling was cut off abruptly, and she started sucking on it at once - another product of the hypnosis files. She was left sniffling and whimpering quietly, her dummy bobbing rhythmically in her mouth. "Now I know you're very upset because Daddy turned you into a big baby," I said, pushing her back gently onto the floor, "but I'm sure a nice dry diaper will have you feeling better in no time. Legs up, baby! It's time for you to let Daddy take care of everything."

[soobnny]

one more month — bang chan. established relationship. fluff. chan missing you while he’s on tour. (0.6k words)

“Chan?”

It’s 11pm for you when he calls from his hotel room, somewhere oceans away. There’s still sleep dripping from your tone, and he can almost hear the rustling of sheets from your end.

“Sorry baby, did I wake you?” Chan speaks so quietly it’s almost a whisper. He was careful not to shake you out of your silence.

“Mmm, no.” You croak out.

He knows you’re lying, could almost picture you jolting from your sleep at the familiar buzz of your ringtone. The thought makes him swallow, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

“Is there a reason why you’re calling?”

He pauses before answering. Chan has no idea how the fuck he’s feeling right now, but he knows he misses you.

It’s been 4 months since he last saw you. All he has are pictures of you in his phone, and occasional phone calls that will never suffice to the way you sound in person. To the way you feel in person.

Chan stares out the big fucking window from where they’re staying, finding comfort in the thought that you might be looking at the same moon.

He swallows again. “Does there have to be a reason?”

“Of course not.”

“Just miss you.” He breathes out slowly, head tilted on the glass windows. “And I wish— we didn’t have to be so far away all the time.”

He’s thinking of you, imagining how you look right now with tired eyes. He’s thinking of what it would be like if he was there right now. You’d probably be asleep, tangled up in each other’s limbs. It would look uncomfortable from an outsider’s eye, but he knows. Knows how it feels to have your heartbeat pressed against his and how nice it feels.

You sigh. “One more month.”

The tone in your voice is gentle, yet knowing. He knows you miss him too.

“For now, you need to sleep, no?”

It’s 3 in the morning for him, and he’ll have to be awake again in three hours.

“Can’t.” He bites his lip, swallowing hard as he tries to fight the sob brewing in his throat. Your heart clenches at the way he sounds, knows that when he feels, he lets it take over him.

“Will you be able to sleep if I stay on the phone?”

“Maybe.” Shaky.

“Okay. Have the kids been treating you well?”

A smile pulls at his lips at the mention of his best friends, and the topic change does a good job at masking the nauseating pain of missing you. A bandaid. A temporary fix.

“Still loud and stubborn, but I wouldn’t want them any other way.”

“Hmmm, I won’t be surprised if you come home with a head of white hair.”

He laughs at the thought, running a hand through his hair. “I think I’m already starting.”

“Then Seungmin calling you an old man is justifiable, then?”

“I don’t think I like you teaming up with the boys against me. You’ve signed up on my team the moment you said yes to being mine.”

You laugh from your end, and Chan’s heart flutters at the sound. He can almost see you with your crescent eyes and the cute scrunch on your nose, the one you do when you cackle.

He tries not to think about it too much. Tries not to picture himself right there with you. He knows it’d only rip the bandaid he’d desperately plastered on himself.

“Not sleepy yet?”

“Just a little.” He admits quietly, a yawn escaping his mouth.

There’s stifling from his end, and you can only assume he’s slipped himself back into the covers of his bed.

You keep telling him stories, no matter how menial, anything to keep him company. You know he just needs to hear your voice, has told you before how simply hearing you comforts him—it’s a calm only you can offer.

Chan breathes in and out slowly.

It’s four in the morning now, and there’s quiet snoring in the background.

“Goodnight Channie. One more month.”

[libbyfandom]

“In This Life, and the Next. I Swear.”

Happy Holidays, have a bittersweet reincarnation fic.

Summary: Mizu may not believe in reincarnation, but you do. You'll believe in it enough for both of you. You may not be strong, but your soul is. You'll carry her to a better lifetime.

Content Warnings: Did your really think no one would die in a reincarnation fic? Hmmm?

“Next lifetime, you have to court me,” you murmur into Mizu’s neck as her fingers trace along the bare skin of your back where you lie atop her. “None of this... stoic loner act where I have to wear you down into letting me love you. Yeah?”

Mizu snorts, her other hand resting over her eyes. “Not on your life.”

Making an offended noise, you bite her collarbone in retaliation, hearing her laughter fill the inn room.

“When we come back, I want our lives to be simple,” you say as Mizu helps you down from the horse you borrowed on your escape from the last town.

Resisting the urge to let a sigh slip at this fantasy coming back up again, she mutters, “Yeah? You’d prefer to have a boring life, after you basically attached yourself to me and Ringo to escape your home?”

“Well yeah, I’m getting all of my adventuring done in this life cycle.”

“And you don’t want that again?” Mizu starts to lead the horse toward the outer skirts of the city, hoping to find a stable to leave it without being spotted.

You walk alongside her, studying her passive expression. “I do." A beat. "But I want you to have peace more.”

Her eyes dart to you, genuinely caught off guard. The openness, the honesty in your face has a bubble of overwhelming emotion welling up in her chest.

Her head turns back to the road, retreating into her silence to avoid speaking and risking her voice betraying her.

But after a few minutes of her staring off into the distance, she quietly says with a softened brow, ��That’s kind.”

‘Do you regret choosing this life, knowing how quickly it will all end? Or did you walk into it blindly, optimistic for some happier resolution?’

Mizu jerks you up into her arms, apologizing frantically over and over as you scream in pain when she applies pressure to the stab wound deep in your stomach. She tenses her grip as your body tries to seize and jerk away from the splitting, hot pain radiating through your nerves from pressure on the gash. You’re too scared to look down and see your own insides peeling away from each other.

Taigen and Ringo are fending off the last few bounty hunters, the clashing of swords and knives fading into the background as you dig your bloodied fingers into her haori. “Come find-find me again,” you say with frantic eyes, swallowing back another mouthful of metallic blood forcing its way up your burning throat.

“What?!” Mizu’s attention is torn between keeping an eye on her back and wrapping a torque around your middle from the fabric she torn off your kosode.

You grab her face, leaving a bloody streak on her cheek as you force her to look at you. Her widened blue eyes are forced to look into yours with no barrier, her glasses lost somewhere in the snow from the fight. You can feel how fast your body is losing warmth. The edges of your vision are blurring, and the draw to fall asleep is growing more powerful than the burning gap in your stomach. Mizu may not know how to die, but you-

‘I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so, so sorry.’

You need her to hear you before everything stops. So you grip her cheek and stare into her panic-stricken eyes. You’re scared too, but you’re more scared of coming back to this world and not seeing her again than you are of not coming back at all.

“Come find me again.”

Mizu hates the concept of promises, and the bigger and more impossible they sound the more she avoids them. But you nose is turning pink from the cold, or from your crying. Tears are trailing down the sides of your temples, cutting through any blood stains across your face.

And she hates promises.

Tears well in her own eyes as she clenches her teeth against a violent sob.

But she hates denying you proof that she loves you more. If you pass without it… if you die with the last words in your ears being 'I can't'…

Every whisper and cry of “Onryō” she’s ever heard echo louder and louder in her head until they're all scream chanting in unison. She blinks, and for a heart-freezing moment your terrified eyes turn her shade of blue.

“Onryō!”

“ONRYŌ!”

"𝔬n҉𝔯y҉𝔬o҉𝔫r҉𝔶o҉𝔬n҉𝔯y҉𝔬o҉𝔫r҉𝔶o҉𝔬n҉𝔯y҉𝔬-"

Her hand lifts away from the rapidly growing stain of blood coming through the makeshift torque across your abdomen and settles on your cheek.

She forces the corners of her mouth up into a reassuring smile as her own body trembles.

“Okay,” her voice wavers as she blinks out tears. “I’ll come find you.” Her voice is like a child making their first vow. “I’ll, I’ll come find you again.”

You smile weakly, and despite her own forced one, her eyes fill with terror for just a moment at the blood staining your teeth.

You reach up and tug her hair out of its high bun, watching it tumble around her shoulders.

You need your soul to memorize what she looks like when she’s not hiding. For next time.

Your own smile wavers. “You have to. I won’t… I won’t forgive you if you don’t.”

The fragile look on her face crumples into despair. Mizu leans her temple against yours as the sobs overtake her, her long hair draping over both of your faces and blocking out the world. “I will. I will I will I will I will I-“

Her fractured voice fades away, and your vision swims.

But your soul is at peace.

‘It's your turn, Mizu.’

‘I ended up burying you with as many red spider lilies I could scavenge. They’ll help guide you to the next life. I made Ri( ) swear to bury me next to you with just as many. If he’s around to collect my corpse when I go. If anyone is. ( )I used to not care if anyone did, as long as I finished my mission. But now I’m terrified something happens and I can’t keep my promise.

I’m sorry. I miss you. I’m sorry I made a promise that’s out of my hands.

( )

I’m sorry.’

You stare down at the spread of papers and antique diaries written in kanji. You’re trying to organize them by chronological order based on context from the letters and diaries, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult as you go. Especially with words smudged and faded by centuries of time. You rub your eye behind your glasses.

‘She really is making this hard for me.’ You sigh through your nose as you bite down on the end of your pen.

“Excuse me?”

“Hm?” You glance to your side, surprised to be pulled from your work and come face to face with probably the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen. “Hello?”

“Sorry,” she smiles, lowering her head to pull her tinted glasses off. “I just saw you over here and uh-“ her expression goes a little strained as she looks for the right words. “I just, uh-”

You glance between her and the spread of antique writing from the archives. “Are you the person that checked these out last? Do you need them back?”

“No. I just-" She makes a face. Whatever she planned to say when she came over was quickly unraveling. Her eyes dart away, and land on the diaries. Her eyebrows furrow slowly, something flickering in her blue eyes.

Very pretty eyes…

She jerks her chin down at the spread of papers. “What is that?”

A little thrown off at the changes in conversation, you pick up one of the diaries. “Um, this is work for my master thesis. I’m studying unknown woman and queer history of Edo Japan.” Your fingers drum over the cover. “Came across this treasure when going through the archives. It’s a bunch of writing from a rogue swordsman to his lover after her death. But in my review of it, I’m positive I can prove that he was actually a woman,” you grin a little with pride, shifting your weight side to side with delight at getting to discuss your research.

“Lesbian samurai,” she laughs lowly, eyes warm.

“Something like that,” the corners of your lips lift up.

“Well that’s really fascinating,” her fingers trail across the edge of the table as she steps closer. “I’d love to hear more about it. Maybe… over dinner?” The corner of her mouth grimaces for a moment, her eye twitching once with frustratation at herself with that cheesy delivery.

Your lips part, eyes widening with a breathless little “Oh.”

The woman gains confidence from how your eyes light up behind your glasses as you flush. Her hand squeezes her shoulder, a nervous tic. “I’m sorry. I saw your over here and had to give it a shot.”

“No, I’m glad you did,” you’re quick to reassure her. You look up at her with bright eyes as you dig through your backpack for notebook paper.

“I wouldn’t have forgiven you if you didn’t.”

A tilt of her lips, her hand outstretched. “Mizu.”

You introduce yourself.

You hold out the pen and paper to get her number, and she asks as she leans over to scribble it out on the table, “Anything good in those letters?”

“Most of it’s pretty grief heavy,” you smile sadly. “But in a poetic and romantic way? Like, even though her love was gone, probably pretty young, she kept her memory alive as she fought through life.”

Mizu glances up at you, and something tightens in your throat and sinks into your stomach. You don’t know why you admit quietly, “The first time I read them I started crying in the archive room.”

A beat, where you feel dread creep up your neck at suddenly tanking the mood.

Her face grows impassive, deadly quiet for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

You quickly blink back tears that come on alarmingly fast. “What?”

Mizu blinks too, straightening up. “Just, sorry that it made you sad. I guess.” She smiles again, albeit a little smaller this time, and hands over the paper. “I guess I’ll see you? Hopefully soon?”

A soft laugh huffs out your nose as that melancholic moment passes. “Yeah,” your hand brushes against the inside of her palm as you take the paper. “Really soon.”

She leaves you with a satisfied grin, her nose scrunching up as she turns and walks off.

You watch her go, feeling something tighten in your stomach again at how relaxed she looks.

You look down at her number, and see that she slyly signed it with the kanji for “Promise”.

As you begin to organize the letters to skim through them again, your hesitate on the one you had just been reviewing. You hold it and the notebook paper up side by side.

The letter unfolds and a single, dried, book pressed red spider lily flutters to your feet.

Mizu perfectly copied the handwriting of the swordswoman’s kanji.

“Huh.”

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Just you and me

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (y/n)

Warnings: smut!!, fluff, a little bit of everything

Background: You, Carlos and Charles are at a Ferrari event. You came with your longtime best friend Carlos, and Charles brought with him the girl he's currently seeing, even though he's not really interested in anyone else but you. You and Charles have liked each other ever since you met, but you've never gotten into anything serious. You were always seeing other people on the side and that was fine for both of you until you realized that you fell for him.

Y/n's pov

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" Carlos asks kneeling down in front of me. "Hey, are you okay?" He asks again noticing another tear roll down my face.

I honestly don't want to talk to him right now. I don't wanna talk to anybody. I feel pathetic because I'm letting myself feel this way again over a guy. It's humiliating. But it's not Charles' fault. It's no one's fault but mine. I should be in control of my own feelings but here I am yet again letting my mood depend on others. It seems that the more you resist certain things, the more they hurt.

"Look at me." Carlos says lifting up my chin making me look at him but I quickly look away.

"I'd really appreciate if you could leave me be with myself right now."

"I will if you tell me who made you cry?" He takes off his blazer and wraps it around me.

"I made myself cry." I sob putting my palms over my face. I can't wait to look myself in the mirror and see black mascara all over my face. Luckily the amount of alcohol in my system tells me to not give a shit about it.

"Why you two do this to each other, I'll never understand." He sighs.

"He went home with her?" I dare to ask even though I'm not sure if I want to hear the answer.

"She wasn't feeling well so he took her home, but-"

"There you are, fuck I'm looking-"

Charles. He took her home, but he'll be back. Feeling of relief and feeling of anger are fighting inside of me when I see him.

Without saying a word, Carlos stands up and leaves us alone on the terrace. I immediately stand up and head after Carlos not wanting to look at Charles, but before I can leave he tightly grabs my wrist and pulls me to him.

"Let go." I say through my teeth.

"No." He says coldly not breaking the eye contact. "What's wrong? Are you crying because I left with her?"

I laugh at his question. How dares he? "Crying because of you? You're not worthy of that, Charles." I obviously lie yanking my wrist out of his grip.

"See I don't think you're telling the truth." He takes a step closer to me leaving a small gap between us. "I know that just the thought of me being close to her or touching her.." Oh my God my heart literally aches picturing them in my head.

"Stop.." I whisper quietly squinting my eyes desperately wanting to erase it from my mind.

"It makes your blood boil." He says looking down at me. "And I wouldn't want it any other way."

"What?"

"C'mon," He takes a strand of my hair and puts it behind my ear. "We both know we can't stop thinking about each other. Whose blazer is on you?"

"It's Carlos'." Right as the words leave my mouth, he takes it off of me making it fall to the ground and the cold breeze hits my skin.

"Come with me." He takes my hand again, but I stop him.

"No, Charles, I don't wanna go with you." I lie, but he ignores me. "I'll scream, I swear-"

"Go ahead, scream. The press is just waiting for some interesting shit to happen. I'm sure you'll make the headlines tomorrow morning." He cuts me off and I have nothing to say back at him.

I follow him out of the terrace through the long corridor to the elevator. The elevator takes us up to the top floor of the hotel. We get out and Charles pulls a card out of his pocket unlocking the door of the hotel suite.

As we step inside, Charles takes off his blazer throwing it onto the bed and I go straight to the huge glass wall that has an exit to the balcony. The only light in the room was the one that came from the outside and I didn't mind. I cross my arms looking at the city lights outside not knowing what to do nor how to act. I'm so tired, emotionally tired. I don't have the energy to argue, to scream, I don't even have the energy to fight back or try to prove my point over anything anymore. I am tired of feeling this way.

I feel his arms on my waist as he appears behind me. He places a soft kiss on my shoulder and then on my neck making me close my eyes and lean my head on the opposite side so that now he has a full access to it.

I let out a small whimper as his left hand travels from my waist to the front side of my neck gently gripping it his rings leaving cold traces on my skin.

"Fuck, y/n.." He breathes out. "I want you so bad, you don't even realize." As he says that he presses himself against me and I can feel how hard he already is.

He spins me around and crashes his lips on mine and in that moment I completely give in. I forget what I was mad at him about. I decide not to overthink this, I just want to surrender to this moment and honestly I don't want it to ever end. Even if I wanted to resist this I couldn't. I want him more than anything and I want him to make me his even though in my mind I've been his from the first day we met.

He deepens our kiss as his tongue swipes lightly over mine. His hand finds its way over my thigh to my panties passing with his fingers over the thin damp fabric. He pulls them to the side with his two fingers and slowly starts rubbing my clit in circles as I lean my head in the crook of his neck.

"You're dripping, fuck..Look at me." He whispers and lifts up my chin with his other hand making me look him in the eyes. "You're so wet for me baby. Tell me, tell me what do you want me to do?"

"Charles..." I don't feel confident enough to say profanities back to him, but hearing him talking that way was music to my ears.

"Tell me what you want baby. I want to hear you. Do you want me to finger you?" He asks and I nod digging my nails into his skin.

"Finger me, please." my mouth fall open unable to say anything as his fingers hastily start going in and out of me.

"I really wanted to be gentle with you tonight, but you're making it too difficult for me." I moan at his words and at the loss of touch as he pulls his fingers out of me just to push them back inside. "Open your mouth." I obediently do as he orders and puts his fingers in my mouth. I suck on them paying special attention to his middle finger without taking my eyes off of his.

"Fuck baby..Look what you're doing to me. I'm so hard for you it fucking hurts." He mutters under his breath stroking his cock through his pants that looked as if they were about to snap open under the pressure. We continue to kiss passionately ripping off the clothes from one another.

"Please baby don't make me beg." He throws his head backwards desperate for my touch.

I start kissing his neck and unbuttoning his pants at the same time. He cups my cheeks as I slowly start pulling his boxers down his legs. My knees hit the floor and I don't waste any time as I put him in my mouth. Charles' moans intensifies when I look him up in the eyes.

"Fuuuuck." The eye contact almost sends him over the edge. It drives him completely crazy. "Baby, I'm gonna cum if you keep looking at me like that." But I want him this way, crazy over me, craving my touch as much as I'm craving his. He pulls my hair into a ponytail and pushes me deeper on his cock hitting the back of my throat. I gag around him making him moan in pleasure and he slowly pushes his cock all the way down my throat again enjoying the view.

"Fuck, I can't hold back anymore. I need to be inside of you. Come here." He breathlessly pulls me up by my elbows and presses me against the glass wall. He lifts up my dress and my right leg with one hand and with the other he pulls my panties aside thrusting himself into me.

"Charles we're at the window. Somebody could see us."

"Good. Then everybody will finally know how much you're mine." I feel warmth in my stomach at his words. God, it feels so good to hear them. "Do you want this?" He asks. I nod whimpering, but the answer doesn't satisfy him. "I need to hear you."

"I want it, I want you." I manage to say.

"Are you close?"

"Yeah, I'm so close Charles" I squeal digging my nails into the skin on his back.

"Me too baby, where do you want it?"

"Inside, cum inside me. Fill me up." The words that I whisper into his ear alone are enough to make his eyes roll and release his cum deep inside me. My legs start to shake and he quickly catches me holding me tightly in his embrace and leaving kisses all over my face.

"From now on it's just you and me okay? No one else, just you and me. No more messing around. I only want you y/n. I always have."

"Just you and me."

[itsgreti]

UNSPOKEN FEELINGS

pairing. james beaufort x f!reader

summary. james realizes he has deeper feelings for lydia's best friend.

warning. slight cursing, mentions of cheating

word count. 1.4k

a/n: i just watched maxton hall and felt the urge to write a quick fic. english is my second language, so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate and text me! (divider is made by rookthornesartistry)

The prestigious campus of Maxton Hall Boarding School was a world itself, where the rich teenage life unfolded in all its complexity. Among its many students were James Beaufort, the charming and popular heartthrob, and his twin sister Lydia, known for her big mouth, but besides that, intelligence. (Y/N) was Lydia's best friend since they were toddlers, and because of that she often finds herself in the company of the Beauforts. Despite this, (Y/N) felt like a shadow, always in the background and unnoticed by James. His attractive presence draws attention, as he walks around the hallway, towering over others, always surrounded by admirers. Like everyone in the school, (Y/N) also had a crush on him, but she knew she would always be only his little sister’s friend. And she had long accepted that.

The (Y/L/N) family is famous internationally, because of their luxurious, high-quality dresses. They often collaborate with the market-leading fashion brand, Young Beaufort. But (Y/N) usually wished for just a simple way of life, without fame. All the children, who inherit their family’s legacy, are burdened by the weight of expectations and pressure.

To make things worse, it was a chilly afternoon when (Y/N)'s world shattered. She had been dating a boy from another school, a relationship that seemed promising but ended in betrayal and heartbreak. The boy had just played with her, and thrown away her without a second thought. (Y/N) was devastated and hurt.

Lydia was away on a school trip, leaving (Y/N) with her emotions alone. She wandered the campus aimlessly, eventually finding an isolated bench near the gardens, where she let the tears flow freely.

Unaware of (Y/N), James had noticed her distressed state from afar. He had been passing by when he saw her sitting alone, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Concerned, he approached quietly, unsure of how to begin.

"(Y/N)," he said softly, startling them. "Are you okay?"

(Y/N) quickly wiped her tears, attempting to make herself presentable. "Oh, James. I'm fine. Just... having a rough day."

James sat down beside her, his expression gentle but insistent. "You don't look fine. What happened?"

The unexpected kindness in his voice broke through (Y/N)'s defences. She looked at him, eyes filled with pain, and sighed. "It's just... this guy I was dating. He turned out to be a jerk. He used me and then just... dumped me."

James's jaw tightened, a flash of anger in his eyes. "Who is he?"

"It doesn’t matter. He’s not from Maxton Hall." (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders.

When James heard the pain in her voice, he decided to deal with her now, and it will be enough later to get to know about that asshole. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). You didn't deserve that."

(Y/N) shook her head, feeling small and insignificant. "I should have seen it coming. I'm not exactly someone would notice."

James frowned, shifting closer. "That's not true. People notice you, (Y/N). I notice you."

(Y/N) looked at him in surprise. "You... notice me?" she said with irony.

James was confused, but nodded, his gaze sincere. "Of course I do." (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat hearing those words. "You're important to Lydia, which makes you important to me. And beyond that, you're a great person. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life."

The warmth in his words and the intensity of his gaze made (Y/N) feel a flicker of hope. She had always seen James as someone out of reach, but here he was, sitting beside her, offering comfort and understanding.

"Thank you, James," she whispered, feeling the weight of her sadness begins to lift. "It means a lot."

James smiled softly, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze hers. "I do care about you, (Y/N). And if that guy couldn't see how amazing you are, then he's the one who's missing out."

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the cold air around them a sharp contrast to the warmth blossoming in (Y/N)'s heart. James's presence was a balm to their wounded soul, a reminder that she was not alone.

"Do you want to talk more about it?" James asked, his voice gentle. "Or maybe we can just sit here for a while. Whatever you need."

(Y/N) smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude and a newfound connection. "Sitting here is nice. Thank you, James," she said feeling his arms pull her into a hug.

As they sat together, (Y/N) realized that maybe, just maybe, she had been wrong about James’s emotions towards her. Perhaps he had been seeing her all along, and in this moment of weakness, she had realised that her feelings for her had not changed over the years.

The weeks following that emotional afternoon saw a gradual but significant shift in the dynamics between James and (Y/N). Where once their interactions were only about polite nods and casual greetings, now there were shared moments, conversations, and a growing sense of friendship.

James found himself looking forward to seeing (Y/N) more than he ever anticipated. Her presence was comforting, her laughter infectious, and her perspectives refreshing. He was drawn to (Y/N) in a way that was new and unexpected, and it unsettled him in the best possible way. He finally had to admit that he had lied to himself all the years when he said he didn’t care about (Y/N).

(Y/N) felt the change too. She was still close to Lydia, but now James seemed to seek her out independently. He'd join them for lunch, walk with them between classes, and even invite them to hang out with his friends, to where (Y/N) always refused to go and eventually Lydia accepted it. It was confusing but exhilarating.

One evening, while Lydia was busy with her extracurricular activities, James invited (Y/N) to study with him at a cosy coffee shop off-campus. They settled into a quiet corner, books and notebooks spread out before them.

"You know," James said, looking up from his notes, "I never realized how much fun studying could be until I started doing it with you."

(Y/N) laughed softly, their cheeks flushing. "I have never thought that once in my lifetime I will hear that from the mouth of James Beaufort, but I think you just enjoy the coffee and the company."

James smiled, but there was a depth to his gaze that made (Y/N) look away shyly. "You're right about that. But it's more than that. You're different, (Y/N). In a good way. You make everything better."

(Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable. "Thanks. Spending time with you isn't that bad either."

As the weeks went on, James's feelings for (Y/N) deepened. He found himself thinking about her at odd times, daydreaming about their future conversations, and feeling jealous when he saw her with others. It was during one of these moments when he saw (Y/N) laughing with Cyril, that he realized the truth: he had fallen for (Y/N).

The next day, James asked (Y/N) to meet him in the gardens where they had first bonded. The air was cool, the sky painted with the hues of sunset.

"(Y/N)," James began, taking a deep breath. "There's something I need to tell you."

(Y/N) looked at him, concern flickering in their eyes. "What is it?"

"I've been thinking a lot, and I realized something important," he continued, his voice steady but his heart racing. "That day when you sat with me here, something changed for me. Spending time with you, getting to know you better... I've come to realize that I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings."

(Y/N) stared at him, her breath catching in their throat. "James, I... I-"

James stepped closer, his eyes locked on her. "You don't have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know how I feel. Whatever you decide, our friendship means a lot to me, and I don't want to lose that."

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes, but they were tears of happiness and relief. "James, I feel the same way. I've liked you for a long time, but I never thought you'd feel the same."

James's face broke into a radiant smile, and he reached out to gently hold (Y/N)'s face in his hands. With that, James leaned in, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, a perfect blend of nervous excitement and genuine affection.

As they pulled away, both of them breathless and smiling, James whispered, "I've wanted to do that for so long."

(Y/N) smiled back, her eyes shining with happiness. "Me too."

[yandere-3-sagau]

Yandere!Wanderer x Secret Creator Reader Pt 2

warnings(s): slight angst, kinda? humanish wanderer (he can bleed, throw-up and cry), its unedited cause i’m spam posting my drafts <3

word count: nunya

First Part: Here

Wanderer never realized how much you affected his daily life until your absence began to sink in. He never noticed how much your smile and kind greetings made his heart flutter until his heart ached from the emptiness.

At first, he didn’t really think your absence was such a big deal til he’d wake up with tears in his eyes and the faint whisper of the name you had given him ringing in his ears. It was like you were haunting him. How could you name him with such care but disappear and not even think to visit? Did you really abandon him? Were you lying when you told him the meaning of his name?

Wanderer began traveling the world, following any reported sightings of the creator. Each time he’s left with a dead end, he feels his sanity wear thinner and thinner, a gentle touch away from snapping.

It isn’t until he hears of a parade being held to welcome and thank the creator for restoring the kingdom of Khaenri’ah. He drops everything he’s doing, and heads straight to your supposed location.

When he gets there, the streets were crowded with people watching as you give a speech high up on a balcony.

He ignores everything else, his focus entirely on you. It’s as everything melts into the background and his actions are on autopilot.

He flies over your position, not hearing any of the gasps erupt from the crowd nor noticing the guards that seem alert at his presence.

His are wide and blown out as he grips your wrists tightly.

“Wanderer…”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT…” he says, tears lining his eyes. Your eyes furrow in confusion. He seems unstable, face full of desperation.

“What do you mean…”

“… my name,” he says quietly. “Say my name!” You pause for a bit, not understanding what he wants. Finally, you speak.

“__”

The voice he has been longing to hear… the name he dreamt of you saying reaches his ears.

He lets out a choked sob, all the emotions he held in finally spilling out as he grips your clothing. It’s like nothing else in the world matters but the two of you.

Even as there are whispers all around speaking of blasphemy.

Amidst his sobs, he asks you all the questions that had been plaguing his mind.

“Do you really see me as a gift… a blessing? Am I really that important to you…”

You’re silent, unsure what to say as all eyes watch you. He feels his heart break at your silence.

“I’m sorry!” he shouts, hands trembling. “I’m sorry I haven’t been using it. I love it! I love what you named me, I really do!”

“I’m your blessing, right? Why aren’t you saying anything.” His movements grow desperate as he shakes you. “… you said so yourself, you can’t take it back. Why aren’t you speaking?!”

You notice the judging eyes staring at the man on the floor. You try to push him off of you but he lets out another heavy, choked out sob, his tears flowing harder. Your attempts to get him off you is seen as a form of rejection. “You-“ he suddenly doubles over, throwing up on the ground. ”…you can’t abandon me!” He screams.

The guards grow closer and he finally notices them. “Please…” he crumples to the floor, trembling hands clutching his chest. He gasps as he finds it hard to breathe. He feels a pressure in his head, and suddenly blood flows from his nose.

You begin to panic, seeing him cry so hard his nose begins to bleed. You bend over and bring him into your arms. Rubbing his back, you call out the name you’ve given him. “I’m not abandoning you. You’re a gift.”

He shakes his head, pushing himself further into your arms. “I’m yours! I’m your gift…” He needs to hear you say it. He needs you clear all the insecurities and doubts in his heart. He truly looks pitiful, his face covered in snot and tears.

The guards are unable to pull him away from you no matter how hard they try. His grip on you is like iron. The guards have no choice but to disperse the crowd. With a nod of your head, the guards allow the two of you some privacy.

Almost an hour passes of him crying into your arms, begging you not to abandon him and demanding you say his name over and over again.

Finally, his tears run out and he’s left sniffling with his eyes swollen shut from the salty tears.

“You love me, right?” he whispers, staring up at you from his position in your arms. You sigh and press a kiss to his forehead.

“Yes, I love you ___.”

He smiles with his red puffy eyes and tear stained face.

“I love you, too…” he whispers before he passes out, the exhaustion finally taking over. You try to move but even unconscious, his grip is tight and unrelenting.

You sigh and let him cling to you. You’re glad that he likes the name you’ve given him but you’re a bit concerned on how much importance he’s placed on it. As you relax in his hold, you fail to realize that simply typing in a cluster of letters into a game has set your fate in stone and that no matter how hard you try to deviate from it’s tracks, you’ll never be free from it’s grasp.

[kings-highway]

OKAY BUT I COULD TALK ABOUT THIS FOR HOURRRSSSSSS

Tsukishims shoving his nose into his book because he's a blind little bat, the lose Yamaguchi is in, long hair Suga!!!! Iwaizumi's little melancholy line there :')

BUT THE FIRE SCENE HOW INCREDIBLE DOES THAT LOOK? Idk if there are any non-artists out there looking at this but I *NEED* yall to understand how difficult it is to capture fireglow THIS atmospherically? like this is phenomenal work, the fire looks so warm but the splotchy dark background makes it feel SO dark and I'm obsessed with the fireglow reflection in Daichi's eyes and the way he's holding the spear and how little Hinata looks. Like it's so perfect idk if I'm explaining myself correct but the atmosphere of oppressingly lonely and dark but so warm and connected to family and I just

I'm going to be biting this one too. Just gazing at it lovingly all day. You can't stop me.

more drawings based on This Is Not The End by @kings-highway (on ao3)

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

beautiful

pairing: boyfriend hyunjin x skinny fem reader

genre: comfort, soft smut

word count: ~2.2k

warnings: reader is insecure about her body, crying, pet names, unprotected sex

an: this is for the person that requested this in my dms (it won’t let me tag you but i’ll send you a message that i posted it!) and it’s also for @jsabimi (she didn’t necessarily ask, but i also wrote it for her lol i hope that’s okay) i really hope i did this one right. i am a chubby girl myself, so i don’t really have the reference for feeling too thin. im really nervous to post this but i tried my best to put myself in that frame of mind and i just hope it turned out okay. i hope it’s comforting because yall deserve that. ♡

masterlist • chubby girl version w chan

‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼ adults only • mdni ‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼

it was a normal sunday. soft lofi music played in the background as you bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up after lunch. your boyfriend had disappeared to his room, suddenly saying the urge to paint struck him and he must not ignore it. that was a normal thing for him, so you just chuckled and agreed. he hadn’t been gone but ten minutes when you could hear him calling.

“angel?” he called from down the hall. you continued wiping the counter with a cloth as you called back to him. “yeah?”

“could you come in here please?”

you folded the towel up nicely and sat it next to the sink, before padding your bare feet down the hallway. you poked your head in the room. hyunjin was at his desk, papers strewn across, paint tubes precariously perched on the edge. his hair was every which way, having run his fingers through it over and over. he turned when he heard you approaching.

“could you come here, my love?” he stuck his hand out, reaching for you. you smiled and crossed the distance of the room, placing your hand in his. he pulled you into his lap. he looked down at you with soft eyes and brushed your hair over your shoulder, exposing your neck. he kissed you there, gently, no hidden meaning or lust behind it, just a simple peck. “do you think you could pose for me?” he asked, kissing the material of your t shirt that covered your shoulder.

your stomach turned in knots. pose for him? like how? you looked at him. “i don’t know hyune..”

“please? i want to paint but i need inspiration.” he nuzzled his nose against the skin of your throat. “and you’ve never let me paint you before.”

he was right. and it was for good reason. him painting you meant you had to sit and let him look at you for who knows how long. just sit there and let him study your body. you didn’t think you could do it.

“why don’t you paint me some flowers?” you suggested.

“i’ve painted so many flowers.” he whines. “i want to paint you.”

tears started welling up against your waterline. you wanted to make him happy, but you really didn’t think you could do this. and that made you feel.. ridiculous. a single tear fell over your cheek and landed on his wrist. his head snapped up, analyzing your face.

“angel..” he soothed. “why are you crying?”

the acknowledgment of your tears only made them fall quicker, soft streams flowing down your face. he did his best to catch them with his fingers. “you don’t have to pose for me. i didn’t mean to make you cry.” he guided your head to his chest, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing gently. you sobbed quietly into his shirt.

“lovely, where is this coming from?” he whispered.

your hands balled in the material of his shirt, your head shaking back and forth, unable to get the words out.

“did i do something?” he asked. “let me help you.” he rubbed soft strokes across your back.

you took a deep breath, doing your best to calm yourself, before looking up at him. he was blurry through your tear filled eyes but you could still see the concern on his face. “posing for you.. is scary.”

he wiped your cheeks, petted your hair, did anything he could think of to comfort you. “why is it scary, my love?” he took one of your hands in his and squeezed. “it’s just me. there’s nothing to worry about.”

you looked down at your joined hands. “i don’t want you to look at me..”

an expression of pure confusion washed over his features. “don’t want me to look at you?” he thought about it for a second. “angel, i hate to break this to you, but i look at you all the time. it’s one of my favorite things to do.”

a watery chuckle escaped your throat at that. “but looking at me for a moment is different than studying me for a painting.” you tried to explain yourself. “i’m not.. pretty enough for a painting.”

“where in the world did you get the idea that you’re not pretty enough for a painting?” his heart hurt at your words. “if anything, you’re too pretty. i’m not sure my painting skills would do you justice.”

“you’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend.” you sniffled.

he thought hard about what he could do to make you see what he sees. how he could make you understand. he thought if you would just let him paint you or draw you, that maybe you could see. “do you trust me?” he asked suddenly.

you nodded without hesitation. you trusted him more than anyone else.

“even if it’s scary, trust me. okay?”

you nodded again, your nervousness growing.

he patted your thigh twice. “go sit on the bed for me.” he kissed your cheek before gently shooing you in the direction of the bed.

on shaky legs you did as he asked, awkwardly perching yourself on the edge of the mattress and facing him. he grabbed his sketch pad and a pencil and held them in his lap. “now take your clothes off.”

you eyes widened in fear. “hyune..” you said in protest.

“do you trust me?” he interrupted. you nodded again. “it’s just me and you, angel.”

your eyes welled with tears again as you grabbed the hem of your oversized shirt. it fit you more like a dress and that’s the way you liked it. it did its job to hide everything. but if you took it off.. everything would be visible. you started to spiral. has he ever seen you naked in the daylight before? maybe he doesn’t really know what you look like. would he think you looked bony? would he be disgusted?

“baby you’re overthinking.” he said. “i’ve seen you bare before, and you’re so beautiful. this is just a different setting. it’s okay.”

you wondered for a fleeting moment if he could read your mind. and with a deep shaky breath, you lifted your shirt over your head and dropped it on the floor. you had your eyes closed, you arms wrapped around your middle. the cold air giving you goosebumps.

“there you go, pretty.” he smiled. “now your pants.”

the pants seemed easy after your top was off. you kicked them to the floor, leaving you in just your bra and panties. you still had your eyes closed, not wanting to see his face, to see the disappointment that must surely be in his eyes.

you heard him exhale, a shaky sound. “now.. uh.. could you lean back? rest on your hands?”

you did as he asked, putting your hands behind you and resting on your palms. you felt fully exposed now. your body shaking with fear. you worried that your ribs were visible. that your hips were poking out. but you refused to open your eyes to check. keeping them closed was the only thing keeping you from panic.

he exhaled a shaky breath again. “my love.. you are breathtaking.” you could hear his pencil scraping against his paper, slowly and then quickly, slowly and then quickly, as he drew lines and shaded shadows.

after what felt like forever, sitting in the same position, you got lost in your own head, with your eyes closed and the rhythmic sound of his pencil, you felt peaceful. you didn’t notice him get up from his chair and cross the room. he knelt on the floor in front of you and reached out to touch your thighs. but he didn’t want to startle you. “angel..” he breathed out, a soft whisper.

you opened your eyes to find him kneeling between your knees, slowly bringing his hands to your skin. your breath hitched in your throat as his lithe fingers came in contact with your soft thighs. he gently spread them apart, his fingers ghosting up to your waist. he slotted himself between your legs, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you closer. he kissed your skin. kissed your hips at the hem of your panties, kissed your tummy just above your belly button, kissed your ribs under the cup of your bra, kissed your sternum. your hands found his hair, you insecurities slowly fading away with each kiss.

“you’re stunning.” he mumbled against your skin.

you shook your head no, unable to believe him, but loosing focus with him being so close.

“you’re perfect.”

he looked up at you through his lashes as he expertly unclasped your bra behind your back. he detached his lips from you to help you remove the clothing item and tossed it over his shoulder and onto the floor. his lips immediately returned to your skin. his tongue found your nipple, swirling and flicking. he watched as your head fell back, your mouth open. he was doing his best to commit it all to memory, doing his best to take in every detail so he could put it to paper later. he crawled up your body, his lips never leaving you, but traveling up. he kissed your collarbones, your neck, your jaw, and finally your lips, as he helped you recline back onto the sheets.

he kissed you deeply as he hovered over you, one hand supporting his weight, the other hand rubbing softly over your panties. you sighed against his lips, your body tingling. his tongue explored your mouth, he tasted of the coffee he had with his lunch.

your hands roamed under his shirt to feel his torso, running up and down the expanse of muscle. the hand he had in between your legs, gently pulled your panties to the side. he slipped his middle finger between your lips. “so wet baby..” he breathed against your mouth. “so beautiful.”

he slipped a finger inside, and then another, slowly pushing in and pulling out, curling them to touch that special spot inside. your nails dug into his bare shoulders, a gasp falling past your lips. he continued his motions, the sounds of your arousal floating in the air around you. and too soon for your liking, he removed his fingers and sat back on his heels. he looked down at you, admiring. and you could see nothing but love in his eyes. maybe a pinch of lust clouded his vision, but mostly love.

“you are so beautiful.” he ran his fingers over the skin of your tummy. “i could never paint this. i could never get it right. but god i want to try.”

he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down, along with his boxers, kicking them off. he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it in the same direction of his pants, a growing pile of both your clothes on the floor.

he grasped himself in his hand, rubbing up and down, spreading his arousal along his shaft. “do you see what you do to me?”

“please..” you reached for him, quietly begging.

he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed himself in. his body fell on top of yours. one hand cradling your head, the other hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers together. his head was buried in your neck, kissing and licking your skin as he breathed in your ear. you moaned at the feeling of him inside of you. “my love..” he breathed. “so beautiful, my love.. fuck..”

his thrusts increased in speed and you fluttered around him. “feels so good..” you whined.

“you’re a goddess..” he kissed your neck and bit your earlobe. “i can’t last much longer.. cum with me.”

and with a sigh of his name, you let go around him, squeezing him, causing him to release inside you with a whimper.

he collapsed next to you, breathing heavy and kissing every inch of skin he could reach with his lips. he collected himself for a moment, enjoying this proximity, before pulling away and standing up. you admired his body, his muscled back, as he returned to his chair at his desk.

“where are you going?” you pouted.

“i have to finish the sketch.” he said, grabbing his pad and pencil. “i got too excited earlier while looking at you and couldn’t finish it.” his face flushed with his confession and you smiled, eyes falling closed in a state of bliss.

you were almost asleep when you heard him get up and return to the bed. he sat next to you and presented you with the sketch. you looked at the paper and then looked at him, shocked. you sat up and took the paper from him, tracing the lines with your finger. “hyune.. this is..”

“beautiful?”

you looked at him. it was. that’s what it was. it was beautiful. “this is me..?” you asked in disbelief. but of course it was. you could see it. it was clearly you. the point of your nose, the curve of your shoulder, he even added a little color on your cheeks and lips. it was definitely you and it was beautiful.

“this is how i see you.” he said. “and it doesn’t even come close to capturing how truly stunning you really are.”

and for the first time.. you kind of believed him. you could see it with your own eyes. a work of art in front of you. and you were sure that your insecurities would return. but now you knew, that in those moments, you could return to hyunjin. return to his sketch, and be reminded that you really are beautiful.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

am i posting this at 11am on a tuesday? you bet i am. when inspiration strikes, you gotta roll with it. ik ive been posting a lot of ramblings and depressing shit on my blog recently and i really appreciate you guys letting me do that. am i back now? idk. i hope so. fingers crossed. ♡

[scarlethexelove]

There Is Nothing Wrong With You

I know it says Sorry For Your Loss but it was the only one I could find and this was what I wanted. Also Not mine

Pairing: Wanda x Autistic!Reader

Word Count: 895

Warnings: Barely any angst, Comfort, Fluff, Self-Hatred, A little bit of hitting oneself

A/n: Wanted to write this short little fluff story with Autistic reader. This really has to do with Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, which is also highly linked to ADHD. I can struggle with it just wanted to write a comfort for it. So hopefully others can enjoy.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Wanda makes her way back to her room. She comes across your door slightly cracked and peers in seeing you sitting on the floor in front of your bed building a Lego set as the tv plays quietly in the background. She slowly opens the door and ventures in shutting the door behind her.

You had been avoiding Wanda all day and if you couldn’t get away you would give her one word answers. She was getting frustrated and upset that you were acting so cold. She was also worried that maybe she had done something to upset you. Wanda had told you something that she thought was minor and you apologized profusely to her not meaning to be upsetting or annoying to her. But you had worked it out and were fine last night when you said your good nights.

You hadn't even noticed Wanda come in until you heard the clicking of your door shutting. You look up at her and immediately wish that you could run, but there is nowhere to go and you know that you will have to deal with this now. Wanda won’t let you go until you talk to her and you know that. 

“Y/n/n what’s wrong? You have been avoiding me all day and when you’re not you are being cold and kind of rude.” Wanda sits down on the floor an arms length away from you. You start to fidget a little and pull your knees to your chest. “I’m sorry.” You look down not wanting to meet her gaze, your voice small. “Is this about last night?” She asks gently, hooking her finger under your chin and lifting your gaze to hers. There are tears already in your eyes as you shake your head trying to stop the tears from falling. She can see the conflict behind your eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s not you. I’m the one who is messed up. I mess everything up. I ruin everything. You don’t deserve this. You’re better off without me.” Your words come out fast and broken. Her heart breaking hearing your words. Your left hand threading through your hair as you take your right hand using your palm and hitting it against your head hating yourself hating your brain for making you this way. Continuing to mutter “Stupid, so stupid.” 

Wanda’s hand gently gripping your wrist and pulling them to her chest. Your hands gripping at the top of her shirt as she pulls you into her lap wrapping her arms around you tightly as you begin to sob into her shoulder. She gently rocks the both of you as she whispers reassurances in your ear. Lightly kissing the top of your head, keeping you tightly in her arms calming you slowly.

Once your sobs turn into sniffles Wanda gently pulls you back cupping your face in her hands. She uses the pads of her thumbs to wipe the tears on your cheeks. She is being so soft and tender with you which just makes your hate for yourself even more. She shakes her head with tears in her eyes. “You did not mess anything up and there is nothing wrong with you. You are perfect the way you are.” She gives you a tearful smile gently rubbing your cheek. You nuzzle into her hand looking for comfort. “Please don’t ever say I’m better off without you detka. I have not so much already and I can’t lose you too. I would give up the world to see your smile. You mean everything to me.” You can’t help the tears rolling down your cheeks at her words. She gently kisses your forehead, then your nose, and then finally leaves a kiss on your lips before leaning her head on yours. “I love you Y/n.”

More tears stream down your face. You can’t believe Wanda just said I love you. “Really?” Your voice sounds small and hopeful. She tearfully smiles and nods her head. “I love you so much.” She kisses you pouring all the love she has for you into that one kiss leaving you breathless. “I love you too.” You whisper, pressing your head back against hers. The room fills with both of your giggles at the confession. As your giggles die down you both stay there heads pressed together as you bask in the closeness and love. 

“I’m sorry I was being so cold and rude I didn’t mean to.” You break the silence. Wanda shakes her head with a small smile on her face. “Detka I know it is hard for you sometimes. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Know that I will always be here for you even if we disagree or argue. I will be patient and understanding of your needs.” You can’t help that more tears are shining in your eyes and you look down. “Thank you Wanda. I-I want to be here for you too.” She lifts your head back up for a kiss. 

“I love you.” Wanda hugs you closer as you bury your head in her neck. “I love you too.” You mumble smiling into her neck. This wasn’t how you thought any of this would go. This is when you know you have the best girlfriend in the world and want to spend the rest of your life with her.

[daylite-writes]

A Healer’s Blunt Teeth - Yan!Capitano x Healer!Reader

(Pt 2 here)

In your homeland, the nation of war, healers are highly valued, highly sought after. This, however, does not grant them autonomy. Traded, won, and bought. That has been your life thus far. Now though, you’ve fallen into the possession of a man you know will never lose a battle.

cw: societal-typical captivity, Yandere-esc behavior, background death, non consensual touching/kissing, sharing a bed (romantic, but not sexual), consensual relationship, brief use of the word ‘master’ until Capitano shuts that down, time skip.

2.8k words

~~~

The sun was relentless, on the battlefield. Glaring down from the horizon, it was blindingly bright. It’s heat was so palpable it warped the rocky terrain around you. Your face, back, legs, all were drenched in sweat. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The worst part was the smell of the fallen bandits cooking under it.

You choked back a sob as another waft of the scent passed you. Rotting, seared. The battle was over, but didn’t dare to move from the spot behind a jagged rock you’d taken. Quietly, you cursed to yourself, “stupid, fucking—stupid. Gods, archons, fucking, idiotic—”

Idiotic team leader, idiotic fucking team. The scouts were supposed to make sure backup wasn’t within range, the talkers were supposed to intimidate them into to fork over their supplies, and the front liners were supposed to not fucking die should a altercation begin.

Apparently none of them did their job, because the moment swords were drawn, one of them sent a signal to a larger group of Fatui a ways back—the moment their backup arrived marked the start of the bloodshed.

They cut through your group with far too much ease. Trained. You didn’t dare peek out from your hiding place, but you listened to the ‘shirk, shirk, shirk’ as each bandit was double-tapped.

You bit your bottom lip hard, hard enough to draw blood, as footstepped creeped closer.

As a healer, you’d never been afraid of defeat. Even ones that had the entirety of the group you were with dead. But those defeats came at the hands of other Natlan people. Those were people who would spare the healer, finding better uses for you than death. The Fatui? No such promise. Surely they had their own, and in turn, you held no use.

The air was tense, silent, except for your stifled breathing and the click of the rifle as you struggled to load it. You swore internally, fumbling with the damned thing, before you heard a click.

You froze. The click was not from your gun.

“Drop it.” The Fatuus barked. You did so, weapon clattering on the ground, raising your hands in surrender, you kept your head dipped low. Unsteady breaths spilled from your lips.

“Please.” You begged, you weren’t a threat, you prayed they knew that.

One grabbed you, roughly, forcing you to stumble along as you were dragged into the blood smeared slaughter grounds. The sun, glaring in your eyes, made it hard to see. Eventually, the Fatuus shoved you, making you fall to yours knees—which sunk a little into the blood soaked mud under me.

The Fatuus said something, which you didn’t hear between your heavy breathing and rapid heartbeat pounding in your ears. It wasn’t for you—too formal and professional. You lifted your head—

The largest man you’d ever seen. Well, probably a man. Towering, with a helmet that looked like a shark’s metal maw shrouding his face in darkness. The blood pounding in your ears intensified. He was looking at you—he was looking at you—

You dropped your head down immediately, terrified of the man you’d been tossed before. Their leader, undoubtedly. It was a short lived reprice from his fearsome figure, as he soon grabbed your chin, dragging you to your feet and forcing your eyes to meet his void—

“You aren’t a bandit. You’re too scrawny, not toned, and you can’t load a rifle. You are for some sort of utility.” He tilted his head to look down over your body, before his eyes locked onto yours again. “Am I correct?”

“Y-yes—yes sir.” Your chest shook with every heavy breath. “I-I’m their healer.”

“Hm.” He said simply. The hand clasped around your throat and jaw twisted slightly, moving your head and body as he pleased. You let slip a sharp whimper, but didn’t dare say a word. He looked over you, appraising you like one would a horse or a fine good. Trying to determine your value.

“In the Natlan wilds, healers are usually bought, traded around between groups.” He lifted your head a little higher exposing your neck. What was he looking for? “Or taken, when a group died to another. Just one thing from which a victor is entitled to take. Hm. I wonder where you’ve been, healer.”

Too many places. From the moment you showed an innate ability for healing. Traded, won, bought off, defected to. Your knees threatened to buckle beneath you as you met his eyes.

His mask hid all but the slightest trace of blue eyes and a sharp, but you swore you could see the glint of sharp teeth as he dropped out, letting you collapse onto your knees in the dirt.

He turned to his soldiers, with a booming voice yelled; “Kill any left alive, take all supplies of theirs you find.”

Then, he turned back to you, voice quieter, but pleased. You hadn’t moved an inch from where he dropped you.

“What do you think of the cold?”

~~~

Capitano was your new boss. Not the Fatui—Capitano specifically.

You stayed in his tent during the day, and slept in the corner at night. It wasn’t like you were told to sit there, but you’d rather not risk punishment for asking for a bed. You weren’t sure how cruel the Fatui were, how cruel he was.

Besides, it was familiar. Sleeping at the foot of your latest warlord. A decoration when you were not working. Like a fancy vase, or an exotic fur blanket.

He came back to the tent one night, the troops reeling from a small battle. You didn’t know what against, only that he took a seat on the side of his bed, undoing his armor, and turning to you, silently beckoning. You approached, sitting beside him on the bed, beginning to heal his wounds.

You wondered how many had seen under the armor. He was strong, toned, and monstrous. Scars etched out of his back held veiny black scars that had to be from the void, his teeth, at times, seemed shinier than his blades and twice as sharp. His eyes…

Oh his eyes.

There was nothing wrong with them. Not visually, but…

You shuddered as you felt them on you again, your muscles threatening to lock up. Heal, right, you needed to heal him. Don’t disobey, don’t refuse, don’t show fear.

“Calm down.” He commanded, and you suddenly realized how your limbs were shaking.

“Apologies, master.” You took a small breath, forcing your hands to move steadier across his ribs. A gash, probably from some rifthounds. They’d been hunting the abyss deeper into the mountains.

“Hm.” He said simply.

He never showed any pain as you fixed him, despite healing—against most people’s assumptions—being no pleasurable experience. You wondered if he even staggered when the beast cut through flesh. You wondered how many he killed before one landed the lucky shot.

Scars faded, having curled up into themselves until they dissapeared, you pulled your hands back. You were on his bed, on your knees as he sat on the edge, legs planted on the floor. You were practically under his arm, in order to gain access to his ribs, but you didn’t move away, and wouldn’t. Not until he dissmissed you.

“Done?” He asked, voice even. Gods, did he even feel any of it?

“Yes, master.”

“Good.” He inclined his head slightly. A thanks. You, nervously, lips parted slightly, looked up to him, taking a second to glance at his maskless face. Was… was he going to dismiss you, or?

He met your gaze, and this time you could not stop your limbs from locking up. You felt like a rabbit, with the eyes of a wolf locked onto you.

He lifted a hand, his fingertips abyssal, dipped in black ink. Gently, he cupped your cheek. The little gasp you gave was one of fear, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Once again, he considered you, tilting and moving your head as he liked. “You’ve done well.”

If you could speak, you’d thank him. Call him master as the others you’ve served prefer, maybe bow your head. But no. Something in you, needed desperately, to remain very, very, still.

“You’ve served me well, for weeks, now. Not a whisper of what I look like among my men, not a peep of disobeyal from you. You haven’t so much as asked for a bed. I must wonder what has happened for you to be so… tamed.”

You said nothing.

“I think I could take you to the most beautiful place in Teyvat, and you wouldn’t dare ask to step outside my tent, instead awaiting my own permission. Hm.”

He tilted you head to the side, exposing your neck. This time, you began to shake. You’ve seen his teeth at times, they could tear your head free from your body—

“Captain?” You pleaded.

“Shhh. I’m not hurting you.” He whispered, you felt it more than you heard it, his hot breath across your skin. “Remain good and you can sleep in my bed tonight.”

He… kissed you. Your brain almost short circuited when his lips dipped down to your neck. It was gentle, even when sharp canines nicked your skin.

Slowly, your body relaxed, and he pulled you closer, he kissed your neck, like a lover. A reverent one. Before you knew it, you were sitting on his thigh, whimpering as he placed a hickey high on your neck, one not able to be hidden. Between your beating heart and his… affection, he stopped for mere moments, not to breath or take respite, but instead to murmur soft nothings, “good,” “thank you,” “my healer,”, before he planted another kiss somewhere new.

His attention continued on for far too long, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself, or where this was going.

“Master…” you said, panting, it took everything in you to not bury your head in his shoulder and bite your lip. You felt deeply embarrassed. This wasn’t the first time a member of the people you’d been claimed by paid… special attention to you. But it was

“Captain. You will call me captain.”

“Captain.” You forced out, softly. “Can…”

He waited, not kissing your skin as you figured out how to work your tongue. It would better, right? To be with him than against. A healer alone is doomed. You thought for a moment, before quietly speaking.

“Can I kiss you too?”

“Yes.” He growled out, far too fast. A little aggressive, but, okay—you lowered your head, planting your own kiss on his neck, as gently as you could.

He groaned a bit, the vibrations of it tangible against your lips. “Bite down.”

For a moment, your brain short circuited. What?

“Bite.”

Well then. Slowly, nervously, you sank your teeth into his skin.

His hand cupped the back of your head—archons you swore there were claws on them—and pressed your head a bit further down, forcing you to bite down harder.

The sound that forced its way from his throat was guttural, not quite a growl, but deeply animalistic and satisfied.

“Good… healer. Good.” He huffed out. The hand left the back of your head, and you took that as permission to release the crux of his neck from your teeth.

You couldn’t help but be shocked at the sight you left. A perfect set of teeth marks against his neck, little beads of blood dotting it. If you hadn’t seen it yourself a few times, you wouldn’t be sure he could bleed. At least, bleed red. He held himself like a god among men, and his soldiers seemed to put him on a similar pedistool.

Your mind circled back to his previous praise. Good. You did well, he was happy with you. You wondered if you would be allowed to sleep in his bed tonight. You wondered if he’d let you refuse.

Realizing he’d been silent for a time, you glanced at him, cold, icy eyes glittering behind lax eyelids. He was watching you.

Your chest was heaving despite the little effort it took, but his breathing was strangely calm, rhythmic.

You felt a hand run through your hair, you closed your eyes and bit your lip.

“It’s late. Sleep in my bed, should you like.” He said simply, and you opened your eyes. His hand was still in your hair, and you’d never felt so calm in his presence.

“Alright.” You spoke, the sound barely a breath.

You slept in his bed that night, his arm around your midsection. You felt like the woman in a painting with a name you forgot. She lounged within a lion's den, resting her head against one’s chest, sleeping beside an apex predator.

~~~

Capitano’s time in Natlan was coming to a close. And in turn, yours was as well.

You laid lazily on the strategy table, your head and chest slumped forward into your arms. Under you, a map of Teyvat, with various pins and marks. The path home. Capitano had been pouring over it even after his generals left, marking it every once in a while, or muttering to himself. You’d been waiting for him to finish for hours now.

For all his animalisticicity, his libido was strangely low. Even after months of his physical attention—kisses, bites, sharing a bed—it took you initiating for him to grant you anything. You were happy for this, you supposed. But it did make him difficult to manipulate, unlike many other men who’d oblige after you puffed out your cleavage and bit your lip.

So, you had to resort to other methods.

“Captain… I’m tired.”

“Sleep then. I’ll carry you back when I finish.” He didn’t look at you.

“At the table? Darling…”

“You were the one that wanted to come to this meeting.”

“Yes, the meeting. Not the… what is this? Were the plans your generals made not sufficient?”

“I’m merely going over them again.”

“Alright.” You weren’t getting what you wanted. Not yet. “Perhaps I should walk back to the tent.”

His body shifted slightly, an action that on him, was like the moving of glaciers, heavy and lumbering. “You stay by me.”

It was a reminder, a weighty one. You did not have to be his lover, but you were his healer, taken by right of combat. The only right that mattered in Natlan. He held dominion over you either way.

You did not have to be his lover, but god was life easier that way.

“Sorry.” You sunk back into your arms, feigning just enough sadness and remorse to make him uncomfortable, even if he was visibly still as a mountain.

“You know you are not allowed to move through the camp alone.”

“I do. I just forgot, the last few chieftains I served didn’t bother overseeing my location or sleeping arrangements.” You lied. They did. Very closely in fact. You were a goddamn healer by blood, very expensive in the country of war. You slept at their feet or in their beds, sometimes in chains. But such facts did not serve you in that moment. “This… supervision is new to me.”

He sighed, setting down his quill. “I suppose this is done. We can return to the tent.” He moved around the table, coming up behind your chair before sweeping you into his arms. Hook. Line. Sinker.

“My legs function, Capitano. I assure you.”

“They did not seem to this morning.”

“I’m a healer, I can deal with some strained muscles.” You bantered back.

“Oh, so me bringing you breakfast was simply a ploy of yours?”

“Of course it was, surely you realized.” You grinned into his shoulder, taunting. “And healing takes time, imagine what the soldiers would say seeing me struggle to walk, coming out from your tent?”

“Hm.”

“Anyways, I said I could walk.”

“I wonder, do you ever accept the fact you may not get what you want? Or must you claw at me until I indulge you?”

“With walking?” You grinned, finding a stance you could sink your teeth into. “Are you afraid I may run?”

“Do you think you could escape?” Capitano met your question with one of his own.

You hummed, eyes closed with a soft smile, not bothering to indulge him until he answered you first.

Your eyes shot open as the warm metal of his gauntlet tilted your head up by the chin. He looked over your neck, scarred with the symbols of his love, and gave a content, “Hm. No.”

You rolled your eyes, a little insulted. “I could escape if I liked.”

“Of course, my healer.”

You pouted as he let go of you, your face falling down into his shoulder again.

“Fear not though, my healer.” His voice had a rasping, growling edge to it, making your body shiver in the Natlan heat. “There will never be anything to run from.”

~~~~~

Just a little thing! Hope y’all liked it <3

[pricesprincess]

part one | part two | angst | series m.list

silence filled the air on the other side of the phone as you waited for kyle, your foot tapping against the soft carpet, a muffled sound that was something more than just what you had in the background.

"kyle? hello? i'm not in the mood..." you muttered and sunk into the couch feeling the anger melt to concern which was always the first thing you had to deal with when simon didn't answer.

there was shuffling in the background, and then you heard simon's voice come over the phone, rough like sandpaper but it was still enough to calm your racing heart. he was safe and sound for now.

your fingers picked at the loose threads of the pillow that lay in your lap waiting for simon. "sorry love, john needed me and all the guys came over so i lost track of time." he murmured with regret.

"needed you for what? i must've of missed when you and him had a baby. you know what? forget about it, just another mess that i cleaned up and simone deserves the apology, not me." you hissed.

now that you knew he was okay and alive the anger came back ten-fold, zipping through your bloodstream and flushing you with heat as you gripped your phone. "i'll be there for breakfast, sorry luv."

once he was off the call you sighed and wiped at your eyes feeling the tears finally stream down your and wet your shirt as you sobbed in the darkened living room trying to calm yourself down for the time.

if simone came out and saw you it would turn into a never-ending night and you didn't want her to see you like this, red-rimmed eyes and a heaving chest from trying to be silent as you thought of simon.

all the memories you both had were now tainted by the push of divorce, wouldn't it better to live life like this or try to work it out?

picking yourself up from the cushions that threatened to eat you, you stood and made your way to your bedroom feeling your phone buzz in your hand. it was simon. against your better judgement, you answered the call and opened your bedroom door.

"can i see her? i know she's sleeping but i'd like to check on my princess and my wife." his voice was still sandpaper rough and tinted with something that clawed to the surface wanting to be free.

you sighed and took a few steps back to peek into simone's room watching as she cuddled with her teddybear that she had you get a shirt with simon's face on it. "fine, only for ten mintues. max."

even though you still no longer wear your ring you love simon, always have, and feared you always will. no matter who you dated, he would always be in the back of your mind and he'd always be your soulmate.

trudging back into the living room you gathered all the toys and put them in simone's bucket when there was a soft knock on the door pulling you away from the task at hand. "come in!" you called out.

thankfully with how small the apartment was simon heard you and stepped inside kicking his boots off and making sure he didn't track dirt through the place. when he came into the living room you looked at him and pointed down the hallway. "just please be quiet."

you watched as simon made his way down the hall softly and gently which was kind of funny with how big and imposing he was. unable to help yourself you followed after and peeked your head in too.

it felt like old times when you and he would check in on her when it was time to transfer her to her big girl bed which meant a lot of late-night bedtime stories and more kisses and cuddles to soothe her.

"she's everything you are." simon murmured feeling a lump form in his throat as he watched simone, then you rubbed his back.

"what do you mean?" you asked quietly.

simon turned his head to look at you, his lips quirking in a smile as memories played. "she's sweet, kind, loving, and thinks about others above herself." he murmured, his head dipping down a little.

you met his heady gaze and crossed your arms over your chest. "don't be so hard on yourself si, she is tough as hell, doesn't take shit from anyone, last week she stuck up for her friend at school."

there was a moment of clarity and understanding as you nodded your head towards the couch. "simone would love to see you when she wakes." you told him with a smile that didn't meet your eyes.

he watched you slip away from him again putting the wall of space up, but this time it was a door.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

HEYY BABES SO CAN U DO A JJ x sister!reader (few years younger, she’s a teen.)

TW: depression, talks of SH, ED, etc…

Basically,

She comes home and seems off and all the pogues know she suffers from depression, and so JJ is like hey bbg (NICKNAMES PLS) and lightly tries to understand what’s going on, and she just kinda pretends nothing is going on. She goes to the bathroom to take anti-depressants and then all of a sudden she just desperately tries to look for something sharp to SH. She can’t find anything in the bathroom, so she slowly falls to the ground, has a breakdown, JJ comes and is all comforting and understanding and then after she explains to him how she almost relapsed, and then she well yeah u can makeup the rest

ℛℯ𝓁𝒶𝓅𝓈ℯ

warnings: depression, mentions of blades, attempted self harm. I am not responsible for what u read.

Masterlist

You raced home to the chateau, your hands shoved into your pockets. You held back your tears, taking a deep breath when you stood in front of the door, hand on the doorknob. You twisted it, immediately being met with the faces of your brother and his friends, all lounging on the couch or the floor, nursing beers and joints.

"Yo, what's up, idiot?" JJ asked you, turning to look. You stared back at him and his friends, before wordlessly making a beeline to the bathroom.

JJ turned around, creasing his eyebrows and shrugging at the odd interaction, chugging a beer. Everyone else seemed just as confused.

Worry began to bubble in his chest, and he tried desperately to push it down. The worry only grew when he heard the noises coming from the bathroom.

You locked the bathroom door, letting the tears silently fall finally, and looking at the medicine cabinet. You were throwing and shoving things around, trying desperately to find it, or anything at this point.

"No, no, no." you murmured under your breath, you couldnt find anything, not a blade or even scissors. Your skin was itching, the urge growing strong. You pulled at your scalp, finally falling against the door, your sobbing becoming louder. You held your hand over your mouth, trying to conceal them, but it was no use.

The urge to do it came suddenly, as soon as you left work actually.

"What the fuck...?" JJ muttered under his breath, all of them turning their heads, the room falling into silence now.

"Go check on her, dude!" Kiara told him, shoving his shoulder and motioning to the door.

JJ walked over to the door, messing with the doorknob. He furrowed his eyebrows, panicked, he rapidly moved the doorknob back and fourth.

"Y/n? Y/n, unlock the fucking door, dude. I'm not messing with you right now." He told you, still messing with the doorknob, then banging on the door.

He thought of the time this happened last time at home, his dad shouting and yelling in the background while Jj worriedly knocked on the door of your bedroom, your dad busting the door open and both of them catching on when they saw the sharp object thrown on the ground.

The banging caused to cover your ears, sobbing louder now.

"Y/n... Please don't tell me you did anything stupid." JJ sighed, you taking your hands away from your ears and wiping your tears. “Unlock the door, kid. Please.”

You slowly stood up, unlocking the door with shaky hands. His eyes went to your wrists, making sure nothing new was there. He sighed in relief, wrapping his arms around you, you continuing to cry into his chest with your arms at your side.

His hands cradled the back of your head, he slowly and quietly closed the bathroom door, giving you both some privacy. He waited until he heard nothing but your sniffles to let go. He grabbed your shoulders, staring at you.

"What happened, kid?"

"I... was working, and..." you paused, sniffling and wiping your nose. "I saw dad come up. He- he fucking came up to me, shouting and cussing at me. He almost got me fired!" You told him, anger lacing your voice. "Then he told me that-that I was the reason mom ran away, and I was the reason his life was so shitty, and tried to guilt trip me into coming back." your face creased up as you began to cry again, hiding your face in JJ's shoulder and grabbing onto his shirt.

“He told me that- that I was a terrible daughter, and he grabbed my wrist and-“

“Alright. Alright. You’re okay. Shh.” He swallowed, hand wrapping around you again. Unsure of what to do, he waited until you stopped crying to talk again.

He motioned for you to sit down on the closed toilet seat, and he sat down on the counter, swinging his feet.

“Dad’s- dad’s an asshole, okay? You know not a word of what he said was true, right? He just wants you to come back so that he can fuckin’ steal your money and have someone to be angry at. Fuckin’ prick.” He scoffed, shaking his head.

You looked unconvinced. He stared at you.

“Nothing he said was true, y/n.” He assured you. “He used to say some of the same things to me. You think I let it get to me? Nah. You wanna know why? Because he is a selfish, druggie, loser addict who no one loves. You’re not gonna be him, because you’re fuckin’ awesome, dude!”

You smiled and let out a nasally laugh, making him smile.

“You’re a wayyyyy better surfer and fisher than he is. And he’s a fuckin’ fisherman! How do you let a teenager beat you at your own job, man?” Your giggle widened his smile, you covering your mouth.

“I mean, shit, I would rather be stuck with you for 100 hours than him for a minute. And you ask anyone out there, they’ll say the same.”

You laughed with JJ, and the bathroom was silent until he spoke up again.

“Don’t do that shit again, okay? Especially not because of a nobody like Luke. Next time he comes to your job or even around you, call me and I’ll come beat his ass.” JJ put up fists, punching the air with grunts.

You laughed at his antics and nodded. “I’m sorry, Jj.”

“Don’t be.”

[shadow-riley]

hello! could you write about ghost reaction when reader calls him and tell him that there's someone in their house while he's working at base or on deployment? is the reader hiding? why is this invader in their house? how will simon deal with it?

YESSS!! tysm for the promt, @chariottie

prompt from: @chariottie

˗ˏˋ How i think Simon would react to you calling in distress ´ˎ˗

SFW, tried keeping gn!reader, slight fluff, light cussing, mention of gVns!

head canons:

immediately drops what he's doing, doesn't matter if Price gets upset with him, his sole focus is you.

tells you not to look into it and hide, quietly shushing you and saying soothing things. "shh, its okay, I'm on my way, darling"

keeps a cool front for you but is internally panicking.

gets a jet ride to you're location, disregarding everyone else on base.

brings Soap along (you two are prolly best friends)

Ghost was on base, about an hour drive from home, when you heard a crash downstairs. You froze where you were sitting upstairs in you're room, you could hear your heart beating in your ears, almost deafening against the eerie silence. Wishfully thinking it was just the dog, you walk into the hallway, but Riley, you're German shepherd, was at the top of the stairs, growling, his piercing gaze trained on something down stairs. The sigh made you're heart drop.

"What is it boy?", you whisper with false confidence lacing your words.

Feeling uneasy, you get Simon's number on speed dial. As you advance down the stairs you hear someone talking softly and inaudibly. Your breath hitches as you freeze, panic slowly invading your body like a parasite.

"c'mere, Riley", you whisper, a hint of pleading in your voice.

The German Shepherd follows you into you're room, where you quietly shut and lock the door. Trembling, you press the call button, waiting desperately for him to answer, each soft ring of the phone gnawing at your brain.

Simon wasn't expecting you to call, and you knew he was at work, si immediately he knows something is wrong.

"Y/N? what's wrong?" His voice is gruff and concerned in his British accent

"i think-i heard- downstairs- there's someone in the house...", you stutter through labored gasps.

Simon's heart drops. "you sure? It's not Riley-"

"NO! no, Riley is next to me" you stiffle a sob, keeping quiet and not wanting to be heard.

"Hide right now, do not go down there, Understood? I'm on my way, darling, stay on the phone with me", Simon is no longer focused on the task at hand, instead grabs Soap and claims his spot in a jet.

"It's YN." Ghost's voice comes out strained and gravelly.

"Si, you're an hour away-"

"shhh, i took the jet, you're okay, me and Soap are on our way."

A small yelp escapes your lips ass a loud crash sounds in the background, causing Simon to wince.

Simon continues to quietly whisper things into the phone at any attempt to calm you down, as well as.

The moment they land, Soap and Ghost are racing to the door, guns in hand.

"where are they?" Soaps accent comes out thick.

"upstair- oh fawkin' hell..." Simon lowers his gun when he sees a raccoon on the counter.

Soaps face forms into something that looks like disappointment with a hint of amusement. "bloody hell.."

Simon chuckles under his breath as he makes his way up the stairs to find your door locked. "c'mere, dalrin' it's me", his voice is softer, laced with concern and affection.

He smirks once he sees your disheveled, weary look and trembling frame appear in the door way. immediately he pulls you close to him.

"holy shit, Si..."

"i know, i know you were scared...but it was a bloody raccoon..." he runs his hand through your hair, smirking.

You freeze, a pang of guilt hitting you. "damn, was it? I'm sorry, baby-"

he stops you from apologizing. "dont apologize...don't ever apologize for calling me when you need me.."

"eugh..." Soap chimes in, feeling single.

Simon spends the rest of the day with you, making sure you're alright.

NOT proof read! tysm for reading! sorry if its crappy!!