#I need someone to tear me open and look at my bare soul and see me and understand

[snowflake-sage]

[tetzoro]

SLOW MORNINGS — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. kuroo tetsuro !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after two years, you finally agreed to move in with kuroo and after your first night together, kuroo reflects on his perspective of love — and how much you’ve influenced it.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : fluff, fluff, fluff ! — WC : 1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : this was lost in the abyss on kuroosdarling but i rescued this cheesy lil piece. enjoy !! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

love was something kuroo always found in fiction.

whether it would be from the stories his grandmother used to read to him as she tucked him into bed, her sweet voice filling his mind with a longing desire to one day have even a fraction of that love.

or in the books his father swore he didn’t own but yet somehow found themselves nestled in between the self help and business books that collected dust on his bookshelf. the tattered covers showing signs of wear and tear that could only come from a devoted reader.

but he never thought he’d make it here and experience a moment like this for himself. he never thought that this was something he’d ever even want at all. relationships had always been pushed back into the far corner of his heart, the fear from his parents ultimate brutal destruction overshadowed his desire for it.

so he never chased after love.

but then you chased after him. and he couldn’t help but welcome you in his arms. you were everything he never thought he needed. you brought peace and serenity into his life. kept him grounded, balanced but still somehow always knew how to push his buttons and keep him on his toes at the same time.

you were the perfect partner for him.

the day he met you, he had no idea how much you were going to infiltrate his life. you went behind enemy lines, storming towards his heart all without making a noise. the perfect stealth attack that left him questioning if he ever had any defenses to begin with.

but he supposed that all boiled down to a simple fact. he could act blind all he wanted, but his soul knew better, for it was the very thing that led you right into his heart, letting you steal it and make it yours.

he was just happy that it was finally in safe hands.

it all brought him crashing down to this moment — seeing your toothbrush innocently sitting next to his in the little ceramic glass by the bathroom sink. the little reminder that showed he shared his space with someone, actually letting them into every crevice of his heart. the thought had him getting a little emotional at 6 in the morning.

because he could easily look over to his right, through the opened bathroom door and see you still peacefully asleep in his bed — your shared bed. and it warmed his heart to no end.

as if you could sense his thoughts, you shift awake, watching him as he stared back at you.

“morning tetsu.” you whisper into the otherwise silent apartment. it took him a second to process the words as they spilled from your lips, watching as you slowly get up and stretch in a way that reminded him of a cat when they first rise from their slumber.

“morning sweetheart.” he smiles, his toothbrush haphazardly hanging out of the side of his mouth. you giggled at the sight, causing his grin to spread wider — wide enough for it to slip out of his mouth and into his hand. his reflexes from volleyball always came in handy when he needed it most. but he supposed he still looked like a fool in front of you — you just had that effect on him.

“you still asleep in there or something?” you ask, teasing him as you wander into the bathroom, wiping some toothpaste off his cheek before wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

“tell me, is it possible to get too much beauty sleep? because you’ve never looked more gorgeous.” he murmurs back, his large hand covering yours as he held your gaze in the mirror. he relished in the flustered expression you tried to hide as your face burrowed between his shoulder blades.

“so cheesy this early? my oh my, we’re off to a good start.” you giggle, your lips pressing against his bare back as the sound escapes you, sending chills all throughout him.

“you better believe it.” he smirks, happily leaning back into your touch. “how’d you sleep?”

“i slept great.” you poke your head out from behind him, smiling as you met his gaze in the mirror once again. it was hard for him not to immediately match your smile, the light in your eyes already brightening the dawn of the day. so he didn’t bother to fight it as his lips lifted upward. “our first night together in the apartment.”

“our apartment.” he quickly corrected, his palm patting your hand soothingly.

“our apartment.” you repeat. you pivot so you’re next to him, lightly bumping his hip with yours so he’d step to the side, giving you some room in the cramped space. you reach over and grab your toothbrush, the very one he was so caught up in only moments ago.

the quiet space now filled with life as you start your morning routine. he resumes brushing his teeth, watching each step you take.

how could something so mundane fill him with such joy?

your pretty eyes meet his in the mirror once again as you start brushing, slightly widening them in surprise under his watchful gaze.

and you were just so cute, sleep still clinging onto your sweet features as if you were internally fighting to stay awake. the two of you had plenty of sleepovers prior to you moving in, but this felt different.

this was the start of your lives together.

and it made him happy. so happy that he couldn’t help but chuckle, watching your face scrunch up at the strong minty toothpaste he used.

you couldn’t hold back your laughter either, lovingly looking at him through the mirror as your shared giggles fill the room.

if this was the first day to the rest of your lives together, he knew it would be filled with nothing but love. the kind of love he thought only existed in cliche movies and sappy poems. the kind in the bedtime stories his grandmother would read to him. the kind he found between the annotated pages of his father’s books.

but he found all of that within you, the love of his life.

thank you so much for reading :3

[n0cturn4]

Was it worth it?

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader Summary: In his arms, with the last breath of life Word Count: 948 Music: Hurt Like Hell - Madison Beer

The abandoned building loomed in dark ruins, like a monument to oblivion, its peeling walls and partially open ceiling letting in only scattered drops of the rain outside. The dense shadows of dusk seemed to hold a vigil around us, and the heavy air carried the smell of rust and dampness, so thick it felt as if time itself was trapped there, holding everything stagnant except for the pain.

And then, in the middle of that desolate scene, my eyes found her. She was leaning against the wall, pale, her trembling lips shaped into an expression of exhaustion that no battle could explain, one hand pressed against the open wound on her torso. Blood slipped between her fingers, slow and dark, as if each drop was being pulled from the very essence of her. My heart clenched at the sight, realizing this was no longer one of the many wounds we healed in silence. This was something far deeper, a kind of sacrifice that should never have been hers to make.

She lifted her eyes to mine as she sensed my presence, her face marked by an exhaustion that went beyond the physical, an exhaustion that burned into the soul. Yet still, she managed a tremulous smile—a smile that, somehow, seemed more of a farewell than a greeting. Leaning against the wall, her frail and fading body seemed to struggle against an invisible weight pulling her down, as if the simple act of continuing to breathe demanded every fragment of strength she still possessed.

“Why…?” The question escaped my lips in a whisper barely audible, tearing through the oppressive silence surrounding us. I moved toward her, each step heavy, each movement carrying the weight of what I knew I couldn’t fix. I knelt by her side, my knees pressing into the dirty, damp ground, but none of that mattered. I was so close that I could see the contours of the bloodstains on her clothes, the dark color I knew so well but had never wanted to see there, on her.

She tried to speak, but the sound came out weak, sliced through by the pain. Her lips trembled slightly, and I saw hesitation in her gaze, as if she was afraid to let me know everything that was inside her. I touched her hand, feeling the warmth of life slipping between our fingers as she struggled to find the words. There was something solemn and irreversible in her eyes, as if she had already accepted a fate I still refused to see.

“I… I wanted to protect you, Dad.” Her voice was faint, a breath barely reaching my ears, but every word carried the determination of someone who knew that sacrifice was inevitable. “I knew the risks… knew it would be a one-way road… but I didn’t care. It was my choice.”

I felt my throat tighten, swallowing hard, trying to contain the unbearable weight now crushing my chest. There, in the middle of the shadows, with my daughter fighting for each second of life, the mantle of Batman felt useless. I was nothing but a father, and watching my daughter fade in my arms was a suffering no battle could prepare me for. I held her hand tighter, as if I could anchor her to life, as if I could convince her to stay.

“You didn’t have to do this.” My words came out shaky, almost like a murmur of despair. “I should… I should have protected you… should have stopped you… never should have let you walk down this path.”

She gave a faint smile, that sad and tired smile that bore a courage I had never seen before. Her eyes, even weakened, met mine with a depth that destroyed me inside. She knew, knew everything, and still, she looked at me with an acceptance that felt greater than any understanding I could have.

“Was it worth it?” The question escaped my mouth almost without thinking, a mixture of pain, guilt, and the desperate hope that, somehow, her words could relieve me of this weight that seemed to crush my soul. I needed to believe that all of this wasn’t in vain, that everything she had endured had a greater purpose.

She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling almost imperceptibly. Her trembling hand touched my face, a final gesture of affection, and when she spoke, each word came out in a whisper laden with unshakable strength:

“It was worth it, Dad… it was worth it, because I would do it all over again, just to know you’re still here. I was never just your daughter… I am your shadow, and that is my part in your legacy. You gave me purpose. Now, you have to go on, even if I’m not here. You have to keep Gotham safe… that’s the path I chose, for you.”

She closed her eyes, and her hand slipped softly from mine, leaving her last breath to escape her lips. I remained there, holding her in my arms, feeling the weight of loss rooting itself within me, a profound emptiness taking over what had once been a simple desire to fight. The rain outside seemed to intensify, as if the city mourned the loss of a silent heroine, a warrior who had sacrificed herself for something greater than herself.

For a long time, the only sound that filled the space was that of the rain, like a sad melody merging with the emptiness left behind. And I knew, there and forever, that this sacrifice was the greatest Gotham had ever demanded of me—a sacrifice I would carry with me for the rest of my life, a sacrifice that, as she had said, was now an inseparable part of who I was.

[ragingbookdragon]

It’s an incessant knocking that pulls him from the fragile sleep he’s managed to get himself into, barely tugging on the balaclava before he opens the door, damn the risks, if someone wants to kill him at his own front door, he’ll let them. That is until he cracks the metal door from the frame and sees her standing there in her nightclothes, tear-streaked face in the cool Birmingham night.

He opens the door for her. “What are you doing here? Where are the children?”

“Left them with Denise.”

Denise. The only babysitter he approved of to watch his newborn daughter and six-year-old son.

“What’s going—”

She isn’t even two steps inside the apartment and she’s falling into his arms, dry sobs escaping her throat as she cries, “He’s gone, Simon. He’s gone.”

His eyes widen, she’s just now finally coming to terms with the fact that she buried her husband two days ago. Once a proud army wife, now a frenzied, exhausted widow, unsure how to raise two children by herself and go on.

“He’s gone. John’s—oh God, Simon, he’s dead.” She stares at him wide-eyed and gutted. “My John, he’s, he’s gone.” She cried out all her tears a few days ago when they first showed up at her door, and he watches as she raises her hands to her face, fingers caged around the sides of it as she sobs, “He’s gone, Simon. What am I going to do?” She’s working herself into a grief-driven anxiety attack. “What am I gonna do? How am I going to raise our—our children, oh, Simon, she’ll never know him.”

Tears finally come to her eyes, and she stares up at him in his arms.

“My sweet Morrigan will never know him,” she whimpers. “Oh, my sweet girl. She’ll never know how much he loved her.”

“She does,” he says, and he takes her chin in her hand. “Now you’ve gotta stop this. You can’t do this. You have to get it together.”

“But he—”

“Johnny’s dead. But your children need you. JJ and Morrigan need you.” It’s harsh but it dries up her tears as she stares at him with a pitiful look.

“I can’t do this alone,” she whispers. “I need him. He…John made it better. He always made it better. Without him…” she gazes at him. “What am I supposed to do, Simon? I’m all alone.”

“You’re a fool to believe that,” he replies and pulls her close; he misses his best friend too, unable to stop the tears that come to his eyes. He inhales shakily, feeling dampness grow in his sweatshirt, remembers how he had to sit down and explain to little JJ that his dad was gone. How he made a six-year-old boy promise to be strong and be the man of his home and watch his sister and mum, while the child in Simon was grieving the exact same thing.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers into her hair. “C’mon love, I got you,” he says, holding her tight as she breaks down into sobs again.

***

It’s horrible. His best friend hasn’t even been dead for a week and already Simon can’t help but feel his heart yearn for her. It’s a little cliché, laying the sleeping widow in his bed, smoothing her hair as be bends down and kisses her forehead. There’s something about the way her tear-stained cheeks glisten in the moonlight but he looks away and grabs the pillow from the other side of the bed and a blanket from the closet before he lays out on the floor beside her. Her hand falls over the side of the bed, and damn Simon’s soul, forgive me, Johnny, he props his elbow up and takes her hand, gently squeezing it in his large one, feeling her faintly squeeze back.

Strongest soldier you’ll ever meet, tough as nails, hard as steel.

But at Simon’s core, he is, a weak, weak man.

[jenomi]

i love you, i'm sorry

pairing: idol!jeno x idol!reader c/w: light physical abuse (reader falls on the floor) a/n: you ask and you shall receive! i got a lot of requests for a part 2, so here it is :3 read part 1 here!! but this can be read on its own :)

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

I push my luck, it shows Thankful you don't send someone to kill me

"why??" you cried tears streaming down your face, "just tell me why, and i'll go."

jeno could only look down at his feet as you asked him for a real reason why he was breaking up with you.

you were fully aware how pathetic this looks from an outsiders perspective, crying and begging for an explanation from a man. but it wasn't any man. it was jeno. your jeno.

"is it something i did? tell me, i'm sorry! let me fix it and make it up to you" your knees stung from crouching on the couch and your eyes and throat hurt from the tears you're shedding.

"i don't see a future with you, y/n" jeno whispered.

you looked up quickly, your eyes opened wide in shock. your voice is so small, you weren't sure if he heard you when you said, "what?"

you always talked about your future. in all honesty, jeno would talk about it more than you. how he'd buy a house for the both of you to start a family and a place comfortable enough to stay home and never have to leave. you loved talking about your future with jeno. it brought you so much joy and comfort. so him using this as a reason to break up didn't make sense but it also hit you where it hurt. how could it bring you comfort when it was the same reason jeno was leaving you?

"look at us now!" jeno was frustrated now, "we barely do anything together, we can't even go outside without being scared. you barely have time for me. how would we ever last?"

you sat there stunned. you were at a lost for words. you thought your love for each other rose above all those problems. you talked about them at length with each other, and you would always assure each other that it was no problem. even last week, you had reassured each other. but now, jeno's coming back and saying it was all a lie? and he's not happy?

jeno shakes his head as he gets up off the couch, "i'm going out, when i come back, have your stuffed packed up and go"

you chase after him and grab his hand. "please baby no. i'll tell my company, i'll find a way to make it work please just don't leave right now. let's talk." you were back to begging.

jeno tried to shake your hand off his. overcome with emotion, jeno used too much strength, and when he tried to shake you off, his force caused you to fall on the floor.

you cried out when you landed on your hands and knees. jeno was so shocked and confused. it was an accident, he never meant to hurt you.

you started sobbing but jeno couldn't comfort you, so he left. he left you crying and bruised on the floor of his apartment.

jeno winces at the memory. he couldn't believe he hurt you, both emotionally and physically, at the same time. what possessed him to do that? he was raised to be a gentleman, but in that moment, he was everything but.

he's surprised he's even alive right now. he knows you told all your closest friends, including his best friend, jisung who you were closest to. he knows the only reason his life wasn't threatened was because you told your friends not to come for him.

and now he's at your door. he knows there's a high chance you'll slam the door in his face, but he needed to see you and speak to you to ease the pain in his chest. he hopes with his whole heart and soul that you'll let him in, because if you don't, he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to recover.

jeno takes a deep breath before knocking on your door.

I tend to laugh whenever I'm sad I stare at the crash, it actually works

you open the door only to pause in shock to see your ex-boyfriend at your door with take out from your favorite restaurant.

"hi?" jeno meant to say but it comes out as a question, a scratch of nervousness and sadness in his voice. "did you eat yet?" he raises the takeout to his chest.

your heart throbs at the question. he would ask you that all the time when you were together and would always nag you to eat something. in the end, he would always order the perfect thing for you, exactly what you wanted even if you didn't know yourself.

"no.." you whisper.

"can i come in?"

ashamedly, you open the door further to let him in without any hesitation. relief floods through jeno's veins.

jeno moves through your apartment with ease, knowing where all your utensils and plates are, knowing which drawers have soft close and which don't, it's like he never left. your heart splints down the middle once again remembering that your relationship isn't what it once was. despite that, you let out a small laugh.

"why are you laughing?" he faces you, eyes curious.

"i don't know," you reply, "i guess i'm sad."

now it's jeno's turn for his heart to split, since when do you laugh when you're sad? is he the reason why? he hopes not, he wants you to remain the girl whose laughter is full of joy, not a girl who laughs to cover for her sadness.

jeno doesn't know what to say, so instead he asks, "how have you been?"

you think it's ironic that he's asking you that knowing full well that he saw you cry during your performance last week. your performance dedicated to him. that night brought up a lot of memories for you, happy memories and seeing jeno on the verge of tears there made you think he missed you too.

but then you remember how it ended. how he left you broken on his apartment floor and then told you to stop reaching out to him. looking back at the mess that was the end of your relationship, you found yourself pushing the memories towards the back of your mind yet again as a feeble attempt to move on.

"fine," you lie. jeno only nods in response.

I wanna speak in code Hope that I don't, won't make it about me

jeno pulls out a chair for you and gestured for you to sit down, then takes the seat closest to you. he begins plating the take out food for you. you want to stop him and tell him you can do it yourself, but its been so long since someone's taken care of you that you can't help but just let it happen. jeno's glad you're not retaliating since he wants to take care of you. it's like second nature to him. he wants to take care of you for the rest of his days. but he doesn't want to scare you off. especially after what he did.

"i saw a smiski at a cafe the other day," jeno says before digging into his food, "i thought of you."

you loved smiskis. they were scattered all around your house, with one sitting with you at the dinner table now. you loved how they were little companions representing a silly, comfortable home life. it reminded you of your own life, and your life with jeno as homebodies.

you smiled at jeno before taking a bite as well. it was cute that he saw those figurines and thought of you. "my friend went to watch the f1 race in the UK and I thought of you when McLaren didn't win," you tease.

jeno chuckles, flashing his signature smile making your heart throb, in agony or love? you're not sure.

you fall into a comfortable silence as you share your meal together. it was alarmingly easy to act like this was just another day after work with your boyfriend.

"how have you been?" you finally ask in return. it was only right.

"busy," he admits. he doesn't want to say there was a reason he purposely tried to keep busy. he didn't want to burden you. and he definitely didn't want you to think you were the problem because he knows it's all him.

"are you taking care of yourself?" you ask him.

"not as well as i was when i had you," he looks into your eyes.

you're stunned into silence, yet again, but with hope and not dread like the last time he spoke to you.

he sets down his chopsticks before folding his hands and facing you, "i came here to tell you i'm sorry. i'm sorry for how we ended and how i left you. it was a shitty thing to do and it haunts me every time i close my eyes to sleep. i don't expect you to forgive me, i wouldn't forgive me. but i know i hurt you with the way i treated you, you didn't deserve that. and i just want to say i'm sorry and you didn't do anything wrong. i was out of my mind. please don't blame yourself."

the wind is knocked out of your lungs at his confession. you were overwhelmed by him admitting his wrongs and calling you out to tell you not to blame yourself, because you were. he apologized but didn't do it to make you forgive him, he wanted to help take the burden of wondering what you did wrong off your own shoulders. it was the closure you needed.

the back of your eyes tingle with tears.

"don't cry," he says wrapping his warm hand over yours on the dining table, "i'll go. i don't want to bother you any longer."

he grabs his plate and rinses it quickly in the sink before heading towards the door.

much like the last time, you quickly get up and grab his hand, "don't go."

jeno turns around, eyes wide and looking into your soul.

"don't go. stay. it's late. you can sleep on the couch." you say still grasping his hand with tears in your eyes.

"okay," he whispers slowly. how could he leave when you ask him to stay?

you grab an extra pillow and blanket from your bedroom and bring it to the couch. as much as you wanted jeno to sleep in bed with you tonight, you needed space to think about what he said and sort out your own thoughts. but you wanted the comfort of knowing he was at home. with you.

you and jeno work together to set up the couch, working in silent synchrony and harmony. the domesticity of it all makes you both emotional.

as you stand back up after tucking a sheet into the couch, jeno wraps you in his arms and says what he came here to say all along,

i love you, i'm sorry

[kissitbttr]

insecure toji :(

—

toji is great at hiding his insecurities. best at it, even.

to be a man you are not allowed to showcase any emotion nor shed a tear in front of anyone. it would bring such great dishonor to family, especially to zenin.

that’s how he was raised by his father. he’s got the marks and bruises to prove it, hasn’t he?

but one thing that toji is very much insecure about is he knows how financially unstable he is.

by any means, he’s not poor. yet, he’s not enough either. and it’s never become a problem for him until he has you.

a beautiful woman whom he had met exactly a year ago at a dingy bar when he had just gotten off from his late shift,

he remembers vividly how you looked that night. sophisticated and gorgeous. a dress that fits your body too well and a voice that could make any man weak at their knees.

it was obvious you had eyes on you as a conversation was shared between you and a few friends, yet you paid no mind at first.

but you took that chance anyway and looked to your right, a small chuckle heaved from you as the man quickly averted his gaze down to his lap with a small blush upon his cheeks. embarrassed that he got caught.

“you came alone?” you asked, resting your chin upon your open palm with a small head tilt,

“y-yeah” he laughs, nodding at you. “just got off from a shift, figured a drink would be nice”

you hum, smiling at the handsome man few feet from you. “graveyard shift?” a little tease won’t hurt,

“something like that” he laughs again and you might be biased because he has the most cutest one you’ve ever heard, “all that and still not enough to treat myself somewhere nice”

a joke but you see how much pain he hides when he says that,

“eh—as long as you’re still alive, there are lots of things that needs to be grateful for” you shrug as you answer. “are you grateful, sir?””

never in his life has he ever heard someone asked him that question,

“very much so, ma’am” he nods yet again, lips stretching into a smile and you catch a glimpse of his thin scar adorning his lips. “or at least i try to be”

you listen well to what he has to say. “try” you repeat the word he just said. “exactly—it’s better to say that rather than completely give up everything—got someone back home?”

he chuckles, lacing his fingers together. “if you meant a three year old son, yes”

“he means a lot to you then?”

“i’d give him the world” he corrects your statement in seconds, thoughts of little megumi clouding his mind. “the only thing that keeps me going”

“well—“ you begin again before saying goodbyes to your friends and colleagues. “that makes him your purpose, then”

he hums, confirming everything what you had just said as the two of your continues to stare into each other’s eyes.

“why don’t you come over here? talk to me more about you” you offer,

“would hate to ruin your evening, ma’am—my shit is far too complex and boring” he chuckles,

you shake your head in disagreement, smiling at him. “every human’s life is complex—it just depends on those people around us who’s willing to sit and listen—and i chose to listen. so come here” you push a stool in front of you with your feet for him to sit on,

little did you know, toji immediately fell in love with you that night,

“i’m broke, angel” he admits out of the blue, earning a glance from you. “i don’t know why you wanted to do anything with me when i could barely give you something”

your brows are furrowed, “toji wha-“

“i saw those two men tonight who came up to you. very well dressed men” he swallows a lump, “they could probably fix your life. seeing the watch on their wrists? i mean” he chuckles with no humor laced in it and it concerns you even mode,

“who wouldn’t?” his eyes then move briefly to yours, whose eyes scanning through his features like there’s something deeply wrong about him. “you’re a beautiful woman with a the kindest soul i’ve ever seen and i’m just the lucky bastard who gets to be with you… I still question myself sometimes ‘why on earth does she wants to be with me?’ “

“they could provide you better” he ends the sentence with a small voice

“baby” you speak with tenderness, fingers quickly moving under his chin and get him to look at you when he refuses. “toji baby, look at me”

and it nearly damn breaks your heart when you see toji struggles to push back his tears,

“where is all of this coming from?”

he shrugs merely as a response, shyly looking down,

“I’m supposed to be the man of the house, treating you nice, getting you jewels and shit but i barely can cover up bills to pay” he admits,

and if silence was the only thing you could hear that night, then a chip of your heart could probably still be heard.

“i don’t fucking care” four words leave your mouth sharply. “what you-we” you correct, “have to go through—i will go through it with you—and i will not leave you behind”

toji releases a breath as your thumb pads against his skin, eyes staring contently into yours with a heart that beats softly for you,

“if i had to sit my ass all night, going through jobs applications, and waking up in the morning to drive you for hundreds of interviews then i will” you firmly state, both hands now cupping his face as you wipe away his small tears.

“i will not just sit and watch you fall” hearing your voice almost breaks is enough to make his heart clench too. “who bought megumi his favorite books yesterday?”

toji gulps. “i did”

“who bought the groceries this month because we wanted to have pasta for dinner?”

“i did” he answers again, hand holding your wrist,

“who made reservations at that crazy expensive restaurant on the South because his demanding ass wanted to treat me something?”

hearing that makes him chuckle, nodding. “me”

“yeah” you confirm. “you did, baby.” a small smile appears on your face. “so as long as you’re able to put food on the table, you’re okay. as long as you’re able to give megumi what he needs, you are not broke. as long as you have a roof over your head, treating me good, we are okay. you hear me?”

he nods once again, feeling his heart fails to finds a steady rhythm by how gentle yet firm you are with your words.

“but you mentioned about the dress—“

“ay, papi—enough” a groan escapes you. “i don’t give a damn about a 2,000 dollar dress knowing you’d probably rip it off of me anyway”

toji releases a loud laugh, his hands moving down to your waist. his forehead knocking softly against yours, holding onto you tightly as if he’s afraid that you will disappear.

it is at this moment that toji realizes at this point that no one would probably put up with him nor understand him like you,

because it is what it is. you love him for him not for the money he owns. you look at the whole landscape and saw a real man. that’s what made you fall in love

“none of that bullshit anymore, okay? please?” you beg with wavering voice, hurt that your boyfriend is feeling this way about everything,

“okay—i’m sorry, angel i just—“

“i get it baby, i get it” you nod, kissing his lips. “but you don’t have to be scared with me, yeah? i got you like you got me. and when shit gets too hard, i’ll still be here for you. for megumi” you promise,

“if that was your way of trying to get rid of me then you need to try harder—i’ve had worse and there’s no way in hell i’m leaving” a playful statement that brings another laugh between you two,

“i’ll put the ring on it one day, princess—i promise” and he will, he knows he will,

you know that too,

“i know baby—i know”

maybe lucky isn’t the only thing he’s feeling when he’s got you

—

not proofread so its probably a mess

[milfloveer]

Premonition 🦋

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

Plot: You have a terrible premonition about the person you love

Warnings: angst maybe but comfort and some fluff wins hihi; premonition of Lilia's death

A/n: Alright fam I'm currently in grief for my wife Lilia and I need some comfort and this was what came to my mind, so please enjoy as much as I do

I woke up frantically gasping for air "LILIA! NO!" I scream from the top of my lungs, tears staining my cheeks. The contact of someone's hands— No, not someone's, Lilia's hands, grabbing my face make me look at her face and the world falls on me.

Sobbing my heart out I lounge my body to hers and hug her tightly, crying my soul out as she says sweet nothing against my ear. Our bodies rock back and forward into a comforting movement, one of her hands holding the back of my head and the other on my lower back, pushing me even closer to her, her face nuzzled into the crook of my neck as mine is against her chest.

As I calm down I slightly pull away and look her in the eyes, ignoring the other members of the coven, probably in distress for seeing the scene before them "Lilia, please don't do it..." I sob with tears still in my eyes.

Lilia looks at me confused with her eyebrows furrowed "Do what?" she asks "Please, I'm begging you- I- I need you." I say between sobs, Lilia seems surprised by my words and so seems the rest of the coven "y/n what's going on? What did you see?" Agatha asks a little frightened cause she knows my premonitions weren't a good thing.

The premonition flashes through my mind again and I tightly close my eyes as I shake my head "No- NO! Please, make it stop!" I sob gripping Lilia's hands which were now on my face trying to stop my movements "Guys what do we do?" Alice asks, concern evident in her tone and her question directed more specifically to Agatha and Lilia than to the whole coven.

Lilia looks at Alice and then at Agatha, the later masking her distress and concern by shrugging her shoulders "We can't do anything about it. So we wait." she says, making the others groan and sigh as Lilia refocus on me again. She leans in and lays her forehead against mine making me open my frantic eyes and look at her concerned ones "Please, please, don't do it- don't leave me. I need you." I whisper, barely audible at the end "Why are you saying this, darling. What did you see?" she asks softly and carefully, I take a deep shaky breath before answering "I saw you falling... Sacrificing yourself..." my voice trembles as I try to say what I saw, she frowns "Please, don't do it, Lilia. Please." I beg her, fear evident in my voice and posture.

Lilia still doesn't understand why I'm begging her, why all the fear, the crying and concern from my side about her, we're good friends, but we knew what the road was when persuaded to go by Agatha, to join her coven "But darling, why are you so afraid of losing me?" she asks "Because I love you." I blurted out making her gasp softly with the impact of the words "Y-you do?" she stutters and I realise what I've just said and try to move away from her, but she won't let me "I'm sorry, Lilia." I say trying to contain the tears of embarrassment and rejection "I hope you're apologising for not telling me that sooner, darling." she says, her voice soft, dripping with tenderness and... Love?

My eyes lock with hers as searching for the answer, then I feel her soft and delicate lips against mine. The whole world disappears and it's only me and Lilia at this moment, our lips move delicately, lovingly, like sharing all the feelings for each other without words, it's... Magic. She pulls away and rests her forehead against mine once again "I love you too and I promise I won't leave you, my darling." she breathes out, brushing against my lips and in that precise moment I knew I didn't need to end the road, my heart was complete, bursting with love for the witch in front of me.

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: seungcheol

forbidden romance

'in another life, i'd made you stay'

it's risky. it's risky, and stupid, and he can't even begin to list all kind of disastrous things that'll happen if someone catches him right now and yet. seungcheol is still here, rushing quietly, moving as a shadow throgh the rose garden, getting closer and closer to your chambers with each step. seungcheol is a rational man, an intelligent prince, a pride of the nation - how did you turn him into someone so foolish?

seungcheol lived his whole life putting his family and his duty to the kingdom first, cared only about becoming a graceful king who'll take good care of his people. seungcheol cared about politics, about this year's harvest, about wellbeing of his people - he never cared about... romance. he lived with knowing that he'll marry someone whose background will strengthen position of his home and that was fine by him. that was more than fine by him, something he never thought about until you happened.

'my prince, is that you?'

barely there whisper makes him straighten up. seungcheol carefully dislodges himself from where he was hiding behind tall oak tree and takes quiet steps in your direction until his frame isn't illuminated by moonlight. you are there, so close and so far at the same time: he can see the color of your eyes but he cannot feel your breath on his cheek. seungcheol prides himself in being strong-willed at the face of temptations, but how can he resist you? everything in him calls to you, wants to step closer, wants to hold you in his arms and be the one to steal the first kiss from your lips. seungcheol prides himself in being strong-willed, but he's crumbling at the face of your smile.

'you came,' you sound awed like you can't believe it to be true. small step forward from your side and then immediate step back, filled with hesitation and embarrassment. 'i did not dare to bring my hopes up.'

'i promised,' seungcheol's knuckles are turning white from how hard he's clenching his fists. god, if only he could step closer, if only you weren't already promised, if only - 'and i always keep my promises.'

smile on your face is bittersweet and it doesn't suit you at all; you should be smiling all happy and sweet, like the very first time he saw you. your eyes should never look so sad, they should be shining with joy and love, like they do all the time when both of you meet on royal events. seungcheol wished he wasn't the only son. seungcheol wished his father thought of your family as a match for him. he wished he met you earlier, so you two'd have more time. he wished he didn't come here to confess his love to someone he has no chance with, to someone who's going to marry another man tomorrow.

'you always keep your promises...' you echo, lost in the thought. 'i wish i was promised to you.'

these words slash seungcheol's heart in two, leave him bleeding and wounded. his mouth opens and closes, stubborn tears well up in his eyes. 'i wish you were,' he agrees, looking up at you. at his answer you raise your head and meet his gaze, prince hopes you can feel all his feelings for you. 'i rarely wish for anything, but i'd beg on my knees on the altar of the Highness, i'd let our enemies run me over, all to be able to have your heart, princess.'

he doesn't dare to call you 'my princess', because you are not his and even when you call him 'my prince', he can't do the same. someone has to stay rational, someone has to not fall -

'no need for all of that, my prince. you already have it. my heart is yours and what happens tomorrow will not change it.'

seungcheol has no chances. he fell for you, for your honesty and openness and he can't keep his composure when you bare yourself in such way. 'my heart is yours, my princess. and what happens tomorrow will not change it either.'

four steps. he can take those four steps and wipe those tears from your cheeks - but he doesn't. he doesn't and his soul dies somewhere with your hope, when you take a step back and hastily wipe away your tears. he knows you waited, hoped for him to be the one to make first move, but seungcheol can't. his people, his loyalty, his kingdom - he can't.

'be gone, choi seungcheol, prince of the west kingdom. i wish you well.'

your tone is clipped, cold, void of any affection and warmth. i deserve it, seungcheol thinks, keeping his face composed. i know i deserve it, but it hurts too much. he doesn't trust his voice not to break, so seungcheol only bows lowly and doesn't look at you, even when he hears you sniffling. keeping his head low, seungcheol turns away and goes back, leaving tiny pieces of his heart on the way. maybe, he thinks, looking up at the full moon, maybe in another lifetime we could be lovers.

a/n: second one in 'love trope' series, what do we think? come to my inbox please :') - nini

you can find other works here

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Six: Bucky Barnes + Mirror Sex

Your self-confidence is about as low as it's ever been. Your boyfriend tries his absolute hardest to show you that you are beautiful and unique, and he has been missing everything in his already very long life.

Yet you fear that sometimes you aren't enough for him. Your Bucky is a super soldier with stamina you can't always keep up with. That added to the fact that you don't like how your body looks; the bedroom isn't your favorite place.

You dislike your stretch marks, your hips dip a little more than you'd like, or how you can't wear tight dresses like anyone else in the Stark Tower can. How pudgy your stomach is, or how puffy your cheeks always are.

It's not like you don't try; you try for the sake of your own, but also Bucky's. You fear that one day, Bucky will have enough of your looks and low self-confidence that he'll up and leave you for a better-looking version.

Bucky's return from his latest mission has his muscles tight, and his need to see his baby girl is high, except when he finds you. The tears staining your face have him dropping his bags and rushing in to see what's wrong.

"Baby girl, What's wrong?" There, you sit on the edge of the bed with your jeans halfway up your pudgy thighs, tears rolling down your soft features. "I'm fat." There's no arguing with you when you're like this and no way to make you see past your hatred. Bucky lowers to his knees in front of you. "Baby, you are not fat." Bucky would never lie to you, but what Bucky says doesn't compute right now.

"Yes, I am. I can't fit into my fucking jeans; I can't wear what Natasha and Wanda wear to galas. I will never be perfect for you, Bucky. I just know that one day you're gonna…" Tears roll down your face even more now, and you can't bring yourself to finish your thought.

"I'll do what, love?" Bucky asks, trying to understand how his beautiful and fantastic girlfriend thinks so little of herself. "That one day you'll get bored of me and leave me for someone like Sharon." Your words come out in a rush as more tears wet your soft cheeks.

To say Bucky is taken aback by your words is an understatement. He would never leave you for anyone and mostly wouldn't leave you for Sharon. Your face hangs low between your shoulders, "Baby, I need you to listen to me." Bucky says, taking your hands into his and shifting you around. He's now sitting in your spot, legs wide and open for you to slot yourself in. "Listen to me very carefully, love. I will never, ever leave you for someone else. You are my heart and my soul." "But" "No buts, Y/n, you are my everything, and I think it's about damn time that I make you realize just how special you are to me," Bucky says, tugging you close to his chest. His hands are harsh against your warm skin as he tugs the betraying jeans down your legs and off to the side.

"Now come here; I want you to sit in my lap. I want your back pressed against my chest." You nod and follow your boyfriend's instructions. You end up in his lap with your back pressed against his warm chest. Legs locked on either side of Bucky's thick thighs.

"I want you to look in this mirror." He says, pointing directly in front of you. "I want you to keep looking at me through this mirror as you make yourself cum on my fingers." His words make your eyes big, "Bucky, that's not." "No. I have made some mistakes by not caring for you or making you realize how much of an absolute gem you are in my life. You are the one that keeps me steady. Now, would you please let me take care of my girl?" You nod, unable to deny Bucky unlonger.

"Good. Now, keep your eyes on the mirror." Bucky's thick finger rips your danity panties apart, leaving you bare for the both of you to see. If Bucky couldn't tell how wet you were from your panties, he sure can now. Slick drips from your cunt as your clit pulses with need.

"Look at you all pretty and wet, waiting for me to return home and please you." He whispers into your ear. You hum with need and watch as Bucky gathers your dripping slick from your cunt, using it to tease your clit. As you watch Bucky's fingers, eyes, and muscles, your lip is bitten between your teeth. Everything about him is hot as he plays with your clit and then inserts just one finger into your pussy.

Thick and longer as he pumps gently in and out of your pussy, adding another when your head falls over his shoulder. "No, pretty girl, I need you to watch yourself remember." He reminds you, and your head tilts your forehead again to watch as your boyfriend makes you cum all over his fingers.

When Buckky adds a third finger, your legs start to shake, and your hips begin to buck up, begging to meet his delicious fingers. "Fuck Bucky, please I need it faster." You beg through moans that echo off the walls of your bedroom and cause the zipper of Bucky's camo pants to dig into his growing thickness.

"If faster is what you want, then I'll give it to you, baby," he mutters as he watches your slick drip down onto the hardwood floor. It's not long before the coolness of Bucky's metal arm is all you can feel. Your head falls back as your cum around Bucky's fingers.

Bucky fucks you gently through your high, keeping you there as long as possible. "Hmm, such a pretty girl when she cums all over my fingers." He whispers. Your heart is beating against your chest, and your cheeks are red.

When you come down from your high, Bucky is licking his fingers clean and keeping you tight against his chest, but you can feel his hard cock against your back. When you move to the floor between his legs, Bucky stops you. "No honey, today and the rest of the night is about you. I don't care; I'll cum in my pants like a teenage boy as long as you know how fucking amazing you are to me, how important you are in my life." You nod and snuggle the best way you can against Bucky'ss chest. Feeling the steady beat of his heart through your chest.

Completed on: 07/30/24

Posted on 10/06/24

Kinktober 24

[ibetonlosinghuskies]

patience and pleasure pt 7

summary: paige drives to azzi's house, overwhelmed with emotion after finding her letter.

disclaimer: as always, everything i write is fictional!!

cw: fluff, angst, sexual content (not smut)

word count: 5.2k +

author's note: i know this was LONG awaited, i'm very proud of this, i hope you enjoy! (the yearning never ends.)

paige's pov:

the rain pelts against my windshield, a rough pattering mimicking the beating of my heart. my hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles white with determination. the road blurs in front of me, but i ignore it.

each second feels like an eternity without her. the engine roars in protest, but i can't slow down—won't slow down. my breath comes in short, sharp gasps, fogging up the windows. the world around me blurs, all i can focus on is getting to her.

streetlights fluttering through my windows, each frame a blink between her eyelashes. the momentum of each flicker, a flashing reminder of her polarizing stare. the way she illuminates my world for fleeting moments before plunging me back into darkness.

i miss her every time she closes her eyes.

the soft air from the a/c hits my cheek, fogging up the windshield. i take a long blink, remembering azzi's soft exhale. the stillness in her breath, like lake water settling on a shore. i need her exhales to become my inhales.

i need to breathe her in.

as i approach her neighborhood, a warm yellow glow bathes the streets. the rainwater picking up a golden hue from the streetlights, water droplets on my windshield becoming tiny suns.

it's the exact shade as azzi's eyes in the sunlight. my honey glow—sweet and warm. her eyes, a lighthouse on a distant shore, casting its glow across the waves, even when i was too far to feel its warmth.

i've lived a thousand lifetimes between her pupil and her iris, swimming in the whites of her eyes, afraid to go deeper.

i'll let her see me this time, really.

no more half truths, i'll bare my soul to her. i'll either drown in the depths of her gaze or finally learn how to breathe underwater.

everything around me feels like it's pushing me towards her. the rain, the lights, the very air i breathe—it's all azzi.

it's always been azzi.

as i pull into her driveway, the world seems to pause. the rain softens to a gentle hum as if nature itself awaits my next move. my hands shake as i pull the key out of the ignition.

i take my first unsteady step outside the car, my knees buckling underneath me. i feel like i'm standing on stilts, hoisted by the unraveling of her confession.

azzi's letter burns a hole in my clothing, heating my jacket pocket. i slip my hands into my pockets, the letter folded into the center of my fist, my lifeline.

the paper crinkles softly as i tighten my grip, and i swear i can feel her pulse between the lines.

my fingers tremble under the weight of what i'm about to do. i feel my entire body quiver, i can't tell if i'm shivering because of the rain or if my skin shakes at the thought of her being mine.

her words in my fist, i knock at her door.

azzi's pov:

the soft knock on the front door jerks me from my thoughts. i rush to the window, peeking through the blinds. my heart jumps when i see paige's car.

i yank the door open, and there she is. paige, standing in the pouring rain, clothes clinging to her body, soft blonde curls forming out of humidity. she looks...lost. vulnerable. beautiful.

she's out of breath like she'd just ran here, chest rising and falling rapidly, broken up only by the slight tremble of her tears. her soft blue eyes staring right at me—right through me. she sniffles and i feel my heart ache at her pain.

oh my god, did something happen? is she alright?

my mind races to the worst-case scenarios, anything to make sense of this. did she get into an accident? did someone hurt her? is her family okay?

i'm protective immediately, the urge to soothe her is intense. it pierces through my body, cutting deep into my mind.

"paige?" i call out, my voice muffled by the rain's delicate song. "are you okay?"

she doesn't respond. she just stands there, her chest heaving. eyes wide and filled with an emotion i don't recognize. it terrifies me, seeing her like this, like she'd crumble at the slightest gust of wind.

i take a careful step towards her, stepping out into the rain now. the urge to comfort her is visceral. like a flower bending towards the water, i find myself drawn to her sorrow, ready to absorb it all—drink it in through my skin.

i want to pull her into my arms.

my fingertips twitch, bones aching to hold her close, to shield her from whatever's causing her pain. i want to wrap my arms around her like vines growing on trees. i'd be her living shelter if she'd let me.

i want to brush back her wet hair.

my hands burn at the thought of stroking her wet blonde curls, tucking them behind her ear. they tremble with anticipation, like petals quivering in the breeze, eager to soothe.

i want to catch every tear falling from her eyes.

sometimes i think my palms were made to hold her face, to hold her sadness between my fingers. i look down at the lines of my palms, splintering like the stems of a leaf, tiny breathing pores, soaking in the oxygen of her tears.

"paige, please," i plead, my voice softening. "you're scaring me. what happened?”

the silence between us grows cold. she takes a shaky inhale, her lip quivering slightly. then, without warning, she lunges toward me, arms wide. she wraps around my waist, her head resting on my shoulder.

the shock of her touch jolts through me like lightning striking a tree. her rain-chilled skin sends shivers down my spine, but i can't help but pull her closer. the dampness from her clothes seeps into mine, a physical manifestation of her love. paige loved in a messy, all-consuming way, like floodwater—it soaks into everything it touches, leaving nothing untouched.

what could have happened to break her like this? i feel protective, like i want to hide her vulnerability from the world. keep her in my arms, where i know she's safe.

whatever this is about, it's serious.

i feel her heart beat against my own. i can't put a name to it, but i know her pain like it's mine. an ache that's lived between my ribs since the first time we met. i feel a yearning pulse through me, a sap rising from where we're connected, flowing through my capillaries.

there's something familiar about this pain, this vulnerability. it's an amalgamation of every time i wanted to tell her how i felt but couldn't find the words.

the very same ache that haunts her eyes now has lived inside me for years, a familiar shadow nestled in my chest. if the ventricles of my heart were like the branches of a tree, paige would be the root. she's the source from which my love grows, the sustenance maintaining everything that's ever flourished through me.

in this moment, with her in my arms, i'm aware of how our pain and love intertwine, delicate yet resilient. standing against the test of time, of fear itself.

"i remember everything," she whispers into my ear, voice breaking between words.

everything?

every word, every touch, every lingering stare.

the weight of her confession settles over me. my mind races, replaying every moment i thought i was lost to her.

i think of that night. the way she begged me to believe her, her eyes soft and desperate. how badly i wanted to trust her words, to put my entire weight on the syllables between her lips. the truth of her words felt so far away then, but now as i stand here, i realize, i'm holding them in my arms.

her tears hit my shoulder as she cries. each one a gentle plea, begging for forgiveness, for renewal.

i feel her release her full weight, as if finally unburdening herself. the sudden heaviness is both physical and emotional, she's passing me the weight of everything we haven't said yet. her vulnerability, her complete surrender, it seeps into my bones like rainwater into soil.

she melts in my arms.

we've always done this dance, a push and pull, passing this weight like a secret too precious to voice, but too heavy to hold alone.

"that night i said i loved you," she whispers, barely audible over the rain. "i remember everything, i meant everything."

god, i should've kissed her that night.

my world stops turning at the stillness of her breath. her words hang in the air, heavy with implication. my throat tightens, and i feel a rush of emotions flood through me—relief, joy, fear, and overwhelming love, all tangled together in the roots of my heart.

i try to speak, but the words escape me. my vision blurs as tears well up. mingling with the raindrops on my cheeks, warm rivers cutting through the cold, kissing her shoulders as i cry.

instead of responding, i bury my face in her wet curls, breathing in her scent. i'm grasping at any faint contextualization of her like i'm drowning. it doesn't feel real.

i'm pleading with myself, please stay here. in this moment.

the warmth of her breath against my neck, the way her words slide down my collarbones.

please let me hold on to this.

the pressure of her body on mine, the point where our hips meet, the perfect way her chin fits into the crux of my neck.

i've wanted this for so long.

the subtle tremor in her breath. something i'm only able to feel when i'm holding her this close.

i try to ground myself in this moment that feels both surreal and the most real thing i've ever experienced. my heart is pounding so hard i wonder if she can feel it, a rhythm that beats out a single word to her chest:

finally. finally. finally.

paige pulls back slightly, just enough to meet my eyes. her cheeks flushed, raindrops clinging to her eyelashes like pearls on a string. something in her eyes changed, a new openness. she's letting me see her, for everything that she is.

"i was so scared azzi," her voice soft. "for so long, i'm so sorry."

she shouldn't be the one apologizing.

“i was scared too,” i breathe, the words hanging between us like mist.

she has no idea how the thought of losing her has petrified me. since we were younger, she's had a grip on my life, a grip that if loosened, i'd fall into the depths of my mind.

her hand moves between us, and i watch as she pulls out a folded piece of paper from her pocket.

my letter. in her hands.

it's both fragile and monumental. the folded paper in paige's hands—a ghost of who we were haunting who we may become. a piece of my past self suddenly tangible in her hands, my feelings becoming real under her touch.

time seems to slow as i stare at it, memories flooding back. the weight of the pen in my hand, the trembling of my fingers. the fear, the hope, the undeniable love—all feelings meant for her, finally brushing against her skin.

i don't know if i ever truly believed she'd find it—find me.

my heart pounds in my chest, a faraway echo of what i felt that night when i wrote it. part of me wants to snatch it away, to protect that young, vulnerable version of myself. but the other part—the part of me that's been waiting, hoping, dreaming, for this very moment—feels nothing but joy.

in her eyes, i see whispers of an upheaval. with just the bat of her eyelashes, paige threatens to uproot us both, to expose what we've kept buried for so long.

my letter, a shovel scraping at the soil of our silence. each word a strike against the earth we've tended so carefully. her eyelids flutter, and i feel the foundation of our friendship quake.

she’s gutting me, with the ink of my own pen.

but maybe, this is what we need. to be torn open, raw and honest. maybe this was bound to happen, a love as gentle as ours, only uncovered by the scarring pain of vulnerability.

i look at her, scanning her every movement. her hands shake as she unfolds the paper. she looks wrecked, her hair wet and clinging to her face. but still, beautiful. i don't think paige will ever not look beautiful.

she's still so pretty, even when she's tearing me open.

our relationship, until now, has been a delicate garden—beautiful, tender, gentle. watered by the undercurrent of everything unspoken. but this revelation, burns under our pulses, hot blood coursing through our veins.

at first, it feels destructive. our patience has kindled a fire within us both. a steady warmth i've always felt when i looked at her, now becoming a searing heat. our complacency has become invasive, encroaching on the blossoming of new life in our little garden.

i realize now—this isn't destruction. it's renewal.

the flames lick the edges of our composure, melting at my resolve. and finally, i see her for who she's always been.

my girl.

this fire between us is a controlled burn, prescribed almost. it's clearing away the underbrush of every unsaid word and hidden feeling, making room for something to grow—something beautiful, something necessary.

the rain slows to a soft drizzle, even nature bends to the will of our love.

paige's pov:

i take a deep breath, holding the letter between my fingers, stroking the veins on her wrist. i watch her pulse beneath her skin quicken under my touch.

please tell me you want this too.

"do you still feel this way about me?" i ask, sounding much more insecure than i intended.

azzi's eyes flutter closed for a moment, and i see her swallow hard. "yes," she exhales. "more than ever."

my heart leaps at her words, but i need more. i need to be sure.

"tell me," i urge gently. "i need to hear you say it."

something flickers in her eye, a look i've only seen a few times before. in this moment, i feel the power she holds over me. it's palpable, electric. her eyes, usually soft and warm, now a sudden, intense flare of heat and light.

i'm caught in her gaze, captive to the desire i see there. i feel my knees weaken, joints softening at her warmth. i find myself pleading again, my words spill out like water from a broken dam, desperate and uncontrolled. anything to soothe the ache she burns in me.

my thumb strokes her forearm, "you want me to be your friend?" i touch her to comfort her. it would kill me, but i'd just be her friend if she asked me to. the thought sends a pang through my chest.

but i'd do it. for her.

azzi tries to speak, but i continue, moving my hands to her waist. this time, i'm touching her selfishly. my hands move hungrily, needed to be fed by the curves of her body. she needs to feel it.

she needs to know what she does to me.

"you want me to be your girlfriend?" my voice drops lower, with confidence i don't know where i found.

the way i say ‘girlfriend’ is long and drawn out, i let myself taste the word.

"paige—" azzi starts, but i'm lost in the moment.

i won't stop until i know she feels it too.

my hands tighten on her waist, pulling her closer. i resist the urge to dig my nails into her side, to sink into her.

"say it, azzi," i plead softly. "tell me what you need me to be."

azzi's eyes lock with mine, filled with emotion. there's a seed planted deep in her iris, shining under the moonlight, begging to be watered.

"you," she whispers. "just you."

i'd give her the world, the moon, the stars. but it's just me that she wants?

"and i'll be it," i promise, my voice leaks from my lips, watering her passion.

"paige," she breathes my name like a prayer. "i need you, i always have." she moves her hand to cup my face, "it's always been you."

it feels like she'd stole the words from my lips. has it always been us?

i tilt my head to the side slightly, leaning closer to her. something pulls me towards her, an invisible string tied from her lips to mine, a vine reaching for its trellis.

our lips finally meet, and it's sudden like the first drops of rain. the kiss starts soft, patient—smooth droplets hitting the surface of our parched earth.

her lips are delicate against mine, slightly parted, inviting me in. my hands slide up her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through her clothes.

god, the things i'd do just to touch her skin

but quickly, it deepens, burrowing into the soil of my skin. it's urgent and desperate. i take her all in, absorbing the pressure that's been built from years of silence.

her fingers thread through my hair, gentle yet persistent, pulling me closer. she's pulling at the roots between us, the foundation of our friendship. with each tug, years of platonic growth give way to something wilder. she's begging for unity in her grasp—for us to become one.

something blossoms between our lips, her tongue—like roots seeking water. the taste of her breath, something i've known for years but never consumed, now fills my lungs. an implicit craving, like the earth after rain. it's intoxicating, addicting.

she's breathless already, and i've barely started.

i finally breathe her in, like a sapling breaching the surface of the soil. i feel air for the first time, i feel truly alive. i pull her closer, our bodies flush against each other, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against mine.

"you need me, huh?" i pull back slightly, smiling into her kiss. all of my daydreams manifested in my hands, blossoming under her touch. moving to her neck, i kiss her gently. like raindrops down her collarbones, my tongue slides down her neck. "do you know how badly i've wanted this?"

i feel her gasp at my touch, a sound i've been dying to hear. when i pull back her cheeks are reddened and sweet like fruit.

look at her, all flushed and desperate. i did that.

every touch, every shared breath is a promise, nurturing this thing growing between us.

this feels like home.

i pull back slightly, my forehead resting against hers. our breaths mingle in the small space between us. i can't help but smile at the simplicity of this moment.

"i'm so in love with you," i whisper, the words tumbling out before i can stop them.

azzi's eyes sparkle, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "yeah, me too, unfortunately."

"hey!" i pout, giving her a playful shove. i can't hide the laughter building in my chest. it was so simple, so easy, so us.

she giggles, pulling me closer. her hands run up and down my arms, and suddenly i'm aware of how chilled i've become standing out here.

she seems to notice too. "as much as i'm enjoying this," she says, her voice soft, "maybe we should go inside before we catch a cold."

i nod, my body still humming from her touch but now chilling from the dampness of the earlier rain. "yeah, you're right."

i take her hand, fingers interlocking like we've done this a thousand times. it's so natural, it almost makes me cry.

just then, an idea sparks in my head, and i release her hand. without warning, i scoop azzi into my arms. she lets out a surprised laugh, her arms instinctively wrapping around my neck.

she wraps her thighs around my waist, trusting my arms to cradle her. i'm reminded it was her willingness to let go, to trust, that brought us here.

she's featherlight in my arms, like she's always belonged there.

i carry her to the doorframe, smiling like a little kid. i step over the threshold, and i can't help but feel like a newly wed couple. we may not have the rings or the witnesses, but this feels just as special. we're crossing a line we can't uncross, stepping into the new versions of ourselves.

she'd make the perfect bride.

her house is warm, welcoming. the air speaks to me in whispers against my damp skin, "welcome home."

i set her down gently in the entryway, taking a step back to admire her. she glows in the soft light of the living room, it's surreal, like seeing an angel in the glow of a television screen.

i want to memorize her like this—hair tussled from the rain and our kisses, cheeks flushed with warmth that has nothing to do with the temperature. she looks like a painting come to life, all soft edges and warm hues.

she's always been beautiful, but now she's my beautiful girl.

i take a long moment to drink her in. the realization of everything finally hitting me. it's enough to tear me to the ground.

i get to love her.

azzi's pov:

she looks at me like i'm the most precious thing in the world. like i'm fragile, like she can shield me from any pain this world has to offer.

"i should probably shower and change," i say carefully, not wanting to break her gaze.

paige's face falls slightly, reminiscent of a lost puppy. she nods, moving to sit on the couch. my heart aches at the thought of leaving her, even for a moment.

an idea strikes me, bold and thrilling. i reach out, catching her hand. "do you...want to join me?"

her eyes widen, a mix of surprise and desire flickering in her stare. a small smirk forms on her lips. without a word, she nods, allowing me to lead her upstairs.

she's such a good listener.

i feel her eyes trace my body as i climb the steps, careful not to creak the staircase. she doesn't release my hand, her grip firm and longing.

i shut the bathroom door carefully and quietly, then reach to turn on the faucet. steam begins to fill the air, clouding the space between us. i face paige, my hands nervous yet bold—a new confidence born out of the heat of our confession.

i reach for the wet hem of her shirt, fingers tracing against her stomach. she stays perfectly still, her breath catching when she feels my touch.

i undress her slowly, anxiously. her damp clothes cling to her body, reluctant to release her to me. i pull her shirt over her head, her hair catching on the hem, falling into place perfectly.

i tuck a strand that's not out of place behind her ear, any excuse to touch her.

paige's eyes never leave mine, full of trust and hunger. i've seen her vulnerable before, but never like this. in a quick moment, we just stand there bare in front of each other. it's tender and overwhelming.

i help her into the shower, holding her hand and she steps into the water. i'm struck by the intimacy of this moment. it's not just about physical closeness, but about truly seeing her.

she's seeing all of me right now. maybe she always has.

despite, being completely naked in front of her, her eyes never leave mine. she stands with her back to the shower head, her wet eyelashes fluttering. water cascades over her shoulders, washing away the last remnants of distance between us.

i didn't have to see her like this to know that she's beautiful. i knew before i even saw her. the first time i heard the sound of her voice, a sweet cadence like sand slipping through my fingers.

she's beautiful at her core.

"what are you thinking about?" i ask softly, prying for more of her. the most precious parts—her dreams, her thoughts, her mind.

paige takes a deep breath, and i can see years of thoughts race through her mind. her voice trembles slightly as she begins to speak.

"i've always loved the way your eyes look in the sun," she reaches for my waist. "the way they catch the light."

i feel like poetry underneath her tongue. her words, soft and melodic, spilling out of her like ink bleeding from a pen.

she continues, "the way my thumb fits into your dimple." she pulls me closer, water coursing over her shoulders, dripping onto my chest.

she molds me like clay with her hands, i become real for the first time. if i'm her muse, then she's the artist. both the admirer and the creator.

she's made me who i am.

unlike most modern artist, she's doesn't see me as unfinished, a work in progress. her gaze doesn't search for potential or seek to change me.

she sees me as i am.

thumbs pressed into my sides, sculpting my form with loving hands. she doesn't touch to change, she touches to admire, to consume.

"i love how you see beauty in everything," she pauses, moving a hand up to my cheek, "in me."

"you make it easy," i smile, leaning into the palm of her hand.

she pulls me in for another kiss. this time it's slowed, gentle. she strokes my face softly, like brushing paint on a canvas.

this is so much better than i could've ever imagined.

i thank myself for writing that letter years ago, for tracing her beauty with ink on paper, so that one day i may trace it with my tongue on her skin.

when she pulls back, i feel my body ache. i don't know how i'm going to live with the taste of her on my lips, a hunger that's never satisfied.

"turn around," her voice low and husky. "let me wash your hair."

paige's pov:

i feel so lucky.

for all of the things i get to notice about her now. there's so much more to love.

a beauty mark underneath her left breast. the subtle dip at the base of her spine. the way her curls stretch under the weight of the water. the soft curve where her waist meets her hips.

i've spent years memorizing her with my eyes. now i get to learn her all over again with my hands, my lips, my tongue.

she turns, her back facing me. i hold the nape of her neck in my hand, as she leans into my palm. the way she releases herself to me, it burns something deep inside me.

god, how long have i dreamed of this?

i run product through her hair, watching as her curls soak it in. they lengthen at the added weight, giving it a new texture i know i'm going to grow to love.

i strain my neck closer to her ear, my breath heavy on her skin. i catch sight of her neck, a delicate line like a brushstroke on a canvas. her eyes closed shut, i take a moment to admire her.

azzi is living, breathing art. something baroque—tragically beautiful in its intensity.

i wash her hair with careful fingers, i'm slow to learn her body. i want to get it right, to be perfect for her.

when i close my eyes, she's all i see. the lines of her body burned into my mind from this simple moment. i imagine her neck bending in this way with my face between her thighs. her soft breaths turning into rampant gasps, a song meant only for my ears.

i finish washing her hair, running the water through her smooth curls. guiding her by her waist, i turn her to face me. my hands betray my mind, lingering on her hips, pressing deeply, trying to stifle my lust.

i tell myself: slow your hands, steady your thoughts. we have the time now.

she gives me a look that tells me she can feel my desire burn through my fingertips. eyes wide and filled with an emotion i'm learning to recognize. a look specifically reserved for me.

she cannot look at me like that.

she knows what it does to me, she sees it in my face. but she just smiles sweetly, kissing my cheek before stepping out of the shower.

i'm left there for a moment, dazed. it doesn't take long before i find myself chasing after her, trailing like a shadow. she tosses me a towel, before wrapping herself in one.

she leads me by the hand to her bedroom, her skin still warm from the shower. she searches through her closet, pulling out an old, worn t-shirt—one i recognize from years ago.

"here," she says, offering it to me with a smile that tugs my heart. her brown eyes soften.

i'm jealous of the eyelids that get to hold her gaze.

i slip it over my head, letting the fragrance of her presence engulf my lungs. i feel like a kid again, in her clothes. the fabric, a hug from that young girl who was so scared to tell her best friend she was in love with her. the stitches holding together years of sleepovers, laughter, and shared secrets.

it still fits perfectly, enveloping my entire body. i change into a pair of shorts, completing the outfit.

"sit," she gestures to the bed, brush in hand. azzi sits behind me reaching forward to scoop up my hair.

her hands work gently, sectioning my hair, before running the brush down my back. azzi's fingers occassionally brush against my neck, sending chills down my spine. she hums softly, a habit of hers i've noticed since we were kids.

has she always been this tender? or is this new?

with each pass of the brush, she's smoothing away years of misunderstanding. she soothes the regret built up inside me for not telling her sooner.

how did i ever live without this? without her?

as she finishes, her fingers run through my hair, shaking out my curls delicately. i close my eyes, silently begging for a few more seconds of her touch.

i turn to face her, our eyes meeting. in this moment, wearing her clothes, her fingers in my hair—i've never felt more myself.

she reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small shiny object.

her lipgloss.

she applies it to her lips, slowly and thoughtfully, not breaking eye contact with me. the light catches the soft shine of her lips and i'm mesmerized.

she leans in, closing the distance between us. her hand on my cheek, gentle yet sure. when our lips meet this time, it's softer than i ever imagined.

it's the closeness i've been begging to feel from the start.

i taste the sweetness of the gloss, feel the warmth of her breath, and suddenly i'm home. this is everything i've ever wanted—to be seen, to be known, to be loved by her.

"i love you," i whisper into her lips.

she smiles, pulling back slightly. "i love you too." i feel her words resonate with my entire being. she means it.

i'm left with her on my lips, in my heart, intertwined into the deepest parts of me.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝕽𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | Teaser

Hang the sinner by his wings.

Tags/Warnings: Demon!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Modern fantasy AU, Angst, slow burn, mature themes, hurt and comfort, Tags vary for each chapter

Length: ~4k words per chapter

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

He can't even get you to drink anything at all, but he has to if he wants even the slightest chance at getting that rogue demon out of you.

He tips the cup of water against your lips to aid in getting you to drink anything and replenish what your body so desperately needs during this time- but he knows, deep down, that you can't keep this fight up much longer than you already have. Your soul might be strong, but your body is already hitting its limits- muscles trembling from the force of the most recent attempt made to possess you.

"There you go.." he hums to you in gentle reassurance, unable to contain his affection for you even if you're incapable of returning any of it. He can't help the way his hand runs over your back to try and comfort you, even though he knows it means nothing to you.

You feel nothing for him but indifference. You don't even hate him.

Knowing what he does now, he's aware of the fact that this entire situation is partially, if not entirely, his own fault. When he saved you centuries ago, he also made you very much horribly attractive for houseless demons like the one currently attempting to use you as more than just a host, but even if he knew back then what he knows now, he would've still gone through with it.

He'd save you any chance he'd get. And maybe that's the sickest part of his whole curse.

The knife on the table is another way out for you, of course. A dead vessel is worth nothing to a demon of this kind, and maybe, it would let you rest for once as well- but he knows that even if held against the prospect of eternal punishment, Jungkook wouldn't ever be able to be the one to take your life. After all, he did what he did many lifetimes ago to save it, and not have it taken either way.

He didn't just buy you time.

He bought you the guarantee of a full life, with every reincarnation.

Jungkook helps you back into bed after letting you calm down for a little bit, before he opens the door to let your friend back inside. At the sight of him, you immediately begin to reach out and cry, and the sight alone has his heart in a chokehold.

Or whatever is left of it, in this case.

Your tears are salty in the open scars he has inside of him, but the fact that you can even shed them at all makes the sting feel a little less harsh. He can deal with this, as long as he knows you're getting the life you were almost denied. He can see you smile, and cry, and love-

Even if it's in the arms of someone else.

"She's a lost cause." Yoongi mumbles from a corner, watching Jungkook who closes the door behind him.

"She's not." Jungkook denies.

"You barely made any progress." The fellow demon shakes his head at him. "You're torturing her."

"I'm saving her." The younger demon denies. "Any progress is progress."

"And how long can you stand this, I wonder." The cat eyed man asks, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall behind him. "Let me-"

"No." Jungkook instantly denies. "You'll kill her."

"And maybe that's for the best, my friend." He offers in sympathy. "Why are you chasing after someone who cannot even love you?"

"Because if I don't,.." jungkook mumbles, turning to look at your closed door.

"...then everything I sacrificed has been for nothing."

[l0serloki]

Roommates

Nanami Kento x Reader

Summary : The AC broke on a hot summer week. It didn't help that your roommate was very attractive.

CW : SMUT, f!reader, oral (f!receving), tiny use of slut, praise, multiple orgasms, creampie

masterlist

You loved having Nanami as a roommate. He was considerate, clean, kind.. and fair on the eyes. Not that you would ever admit that to him. But one thing was that it had been really hot. And the AC in the apartment had been broken for going on a week now. Every morning you’d wake up to a shirtless Adonis making eggs, giving you a light smile and a wave. One person could only take so much.

You slipped into bed, your body warm after coming in to see Kento in only low hanging basketball shorts. His v-line just begging to be on display, those firm arms.. You groaned. This is not appropriate to be thinking about. But you did have to take care of the problem itself.

Your hand inched down, slowly beginning to touch yourself. Your eyes scrunched as you began a faster pace, trying to muffle any noises down so Kento would not think you’re a pervert. 

But your pleasure never fully came, every time you’d get close and work yourself to the edge it failed. You had tried three times and finally, with anger and tears brimming in your eyes you gave up. You threw your hands on the bed as you moved to get up when a knock on your door startled you.

“Y/N?” Kento’s voice said and you quickly tried to shuffle your pants on to look more decent.

“Yes? One second.” You choked out as you checked yourself in the mirror before opening your bedroom door. Your mind nearly exploded at the sight of his bare chest at eye level with you. His arms flexing as he leaned one against the doorframe, staring down at you.

“Are you okay?” He raised an eyebrow and you felt yourself grow nervous. He hadn’t heard you, had he?

“Y-Yeah! I’m fine. Are you good?” You looked up at him and he just gave you a chuckle as his hand moved to grip at your wrist.

“My hands are better if you want.” 

Your jaw dropped as you felt heat pool in your stomach. He had heard you. And he was offering to help? It didn’t feel real.

“Oh Ken that’s..” You started only for him to interrupt. His body bullied its way through the door before he looked back.

“Can I?”

You felt your soul leave your body as his hand reached out for you, barely skimming your side. You didn’t trust your voice so all you could do was nod. His large hands gripped at your waist as he slowly leaned down, his lips brushing against yours.

“You’ve been driving me insane. Coming in here every night like I can’t hear your moans through the walls. And I could’ve sworn you said my name a few times.” He smirks as his hand brushes your jaw before pulling you in for a kiss. Your moans were muffled as he pushed you against the bed, caging you below him. You could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

“K-Ken-” You gasped out as he separated from you, his lips trailing down your neck.

“Shh sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.” His hands rubbed at your sides while he gave you a soft smile before disappearing into the flesh of your chest. Your hands gripped at his hair at the sudden motion. Your legs locked against his hips as you tugged desperately at him in an attempt to get some friction.

His hand smacked lightly at your thigh as he looked up with a devious smirk. 

“Is someone that desperate already? Do you need help?” He cooed and you nodded quickly.

“Please Kento don’t tease.” You had already had enough failed orgasms for the week. Now with him here to help you wanted nothing more than to ride him into oblivion.

“Poor thing. Let’s see how you look, hm?” He gave you a devious look as his hands tugged away at your shorts. His eyes stared down at the damp spot on your panties and you felt exposed. You made an attempt to shut your legs before he grabbed them and pushed them still.

“Don’t hide, princess. I want to see the pretty mess your cunt makes.” 

Your eyes go wide at his vulgar words. He only added on to it as his thumb brushed down the wet undergarment. 

“Can I?” He grabbed at the elastic and smacked it against your skin. Your body was practically screaming for his touch at this point.

“Yes. Please Kento.” You pleaded and the man gave into your request. He pulled down your underwear and lowered himself between your thighs. His honey eyes stayed on yours as he stuck his tongue out and licked a strip up your cunt. You convulsed just at the lewd sight alone, your fingers automatically digging into his hair.

“Relax darling. I’ll be sure to make you feel good.” His voice was soft as he swatted your arms away. His tongue lapped at your slit, eating away like a starved man. Moans ripped through your throat as he bullied a finger into your hole.

“You’re clenching my finger so hard baby. I can just imagine how tight you’ll be for my cock.” His voice was hoarse as he began to pump his digit in and out. His eyes stayed on you as you threw your head back in pleasure.

“F-fuck Kento. More..!” You pleaded and the blonde only chuckled.

“Such a needy little slut.” He tutted out as he added another finger. Your body shook from its impending orgasm. He leaned back down to suck on your clit, pushing you over the edge.

“I’m cumming..!” Your body shook as he slurped away at your juices. His fingers fucked you through your orgasm before slowly pulling out. Even through your foggy state you looked down and almost came again. Ken’s face was covered in your slick and he was licking his fingers as if he had just had a dessert. 

“You taste so good sweetheart.” He smiled as he noticed your stare. You could only hold your arms out in a needy fashion, motioning for a kiss.

His lips met yours as his hand moved to massage at your tits. 

“Can I fuck you?” He peeked up from the kiss. His empty hand rubbing himself through his shorts. You felt yourself throb at the sight alone.

“Yes please. Need you.” 

Your words were enough to knock him into action. He slipped his pants and boxers down with one swift movement. His cock smacked against his toned stomach, beads of precum forming at the scarlet tip.

“Tell me how much you need me baby.” He smacked his member against your folds, his eyes piercing down at you with desire.

“Need you so much Kento. Been thinking about this for so long!” You practically scream out as your body pleads for more attention. 

He lets out a hum of approval as his cockhead teases your wet hole. 

“Good. You’re mine now. Okay?” He gives you a smirk as he slowly sinks into you. Your hands grip onto his back as he bottoms out. He feels so deep and so thick. 

“Ken..” Your voice sounds almost incoherent as your body tries to adjust. He just chuckles down at you as he watches your fucked out face.

“My pretty girl takes my cock so well. Your pussy is so tight.” His voice is strained as he feels you clench even harder. “I’m gonna fuck you so good. Just like you deserve.” 

His thrusts begin to take up haste, your mind turning to mush. His hands gripped at your hips as he pulled you down like a ragdoll.

“Feels so good..!” You grunt out as you feel the familiar coil in your stomach. You can feel his thrusts getting sloppier as well.

“Yeah you do. B-built to take me. Can I cum inside?” Kento pleads as he looks down at you, sweat dripping down his neck. His words alone send you over the edge, strings of yes and fuck leaving your mouth.

“Y-yeah darling that’s right. Take it all.. Good girl.” Kento growls out as his seed fills you full. He waits as you both come down from your highs before slowly pulling out, watching as his mess drips out of you.

“Maybe one more time wouldn’t hurt?” He grinned as he looked up at you. You could only snort.

“One more.”

[sixxteenbullets]

HIDDEN AWAY-

Saw smth the other day and I can't stop thinking about it.

Pairing: Henry Bowers x fem!innocent!reader

Warnings: u and Henry getting walked in on by Patrick, being watched doin yk, swearing, sexual themes.

______

HENRY Bowers had a girl that was the opposite of him. She was a kind, sweet soul and he wanted to keep her that way. He knew exactly who he was and who his friends were, so to keep up with his goal, he needed her to stay away from his friends. The issue sounded easy to defeat, if his friends were normal.

Two boys, Belch and Vic, he trusted enough to stay away from her. After all, they weren't really ever interested in defying Henry. Though, Patrick was a piece of work. As much as he loved innocence, he loved pushing limits. He was tall, obsessed with pyro, and a sadist to the bone. That was exactly the kind of person Henry needed his girl to stay away from. Someone who could tear away her joy, make her sad and scared, and strip her of her kindness, turning her timid and quiet. He'd seen her that way once, during a bad fight, and he swore to keep her from those feelings for as long as he could. Only he could break her down.

"Hey Hen," Y/n smiled at him, her white teeth shining as bright as ever. "You called."

"Old man ain't gonna be home tonight," He pushed himself off of his bed and sauntered over to her. "Was thinking you could stay?"

She didn't have an ideal home life, either. She wasn't beat, like Henry, and she still had both of her parents, but they were mean. Driven by religion, the girl didn't get to choose her own path very often, and a lot of her decisions were made for her. That was part of why she kept her innocence. There was nothing she could do to break it.

"Yeah, totally." She walked closer to him, meeting him in the middle of his room, and wrapped her arms around his neck. His arms looked around her waist and they were pulled flush against each other. As their lips met, a bubbly giggle escaped her throat and she smiled against his mouth. His face remained straight, but the sound of her giddiness woke such a fierce happiness within him, it was hard to keep from giggling back at her.

"So what do you want to do tonight?" A mere whisper, barely audible. His eyes widened slightly as they met the ones that stared up at him. She never spoke like this. It was just a simple question, but there was a passion behind her words that she never had before. They had been dating for a month, and she typically pushed away his sexual advances, so when she made her own, he knew this was not something to pass up.

His hands ever so slightly lowered on her waist, resting on the peak of her butt. When she put up no objections, they lowered and he gave a small squeeze, which triggered another giggle. Just as he was about to say something suggestive, her lips crashed into his open mouth, and their tongues danced in harmony for a minute before he pulled away for a breath.

Her head leaned up to follow him, objecting to the end of their kiss, but she soon realized her own lack of breath. "What are you doing?"

"I want you." There was absolutely no sign of hesitation in her voice. Every bit of every word dripped with a lust that sounded foreign on her tongue. "Every inch."

He had heard enough. He had been waiting for over a month to hear her ask for him. To finally give herself to him.

Every fiber of his being itched to go fast, to shove her onto his bed and hear her screams as she cried his name. To hear the innocence dissolve from her voice, and only a sinful, whimpering cry would be left. But he didn't think she would like that just yet, so he willed his body to go slow, to pace himself and be gentle as he stole something sacred from her.

"I want you to be rough. Show me every side of you tonight. The good the bad and the parts you never let anyone see. You can have my body if I can have your soul." She always did that. Talk in poetic speeches, using grammer he's completely stranger to. And he loved it just as much as he loved seeing the passion in her eyes as every word spoke it's truth.

They were on the bed in no time, and her request rang through his ears. She wanted everything. And he would give her his life if he could.

Two shirts were thrown on the floor, one pair of pants, and one pair of shorts. Two half naked bodies desperately grinded into each other, craving release from the heat in their cores. Legs intertwined just as fingers did and the two eventually became one. One drawn out moan, one long kiss, one burning desire.

There was something artistic about the way two humans behaved in times of desperation. The way she would whimper and gasp when a particularly sensitive part of her body was touched, and he would see this and use it to his advantage. The way his mouth would open in a silent moan as she rubbed against him, creating a friction they'd never get enough of. Even with underwear on, they behaved wildly, leaving no room for any matter to interfere.

Somewhere in their passion, a door, forgotten to be locked, creaked open to reveal a few rather shocked faces. Not shocked to see their friend with a girl, but shocked to see him with a girl such as Y/n. Especially shocked that a girl like her didn't wear little pink cotton panties, but adorned a black lace thong instead.

The bigger male and the blond turned away, obviously not wanting to get their asses beat for the intrusion. But Patrick stayed for a minute. His eyes traced every inch of her body, and once he had seen enough, a low whistle escaped him.

The two on the bed jumped, and just as quickly as she threw herself down, he had an arm around her and held her close. She stayed pressed against her boyfriend, trying to hide her flushed face and body from the mischievous boy who stood watching her.

"When your done having your fun, why don't ya' let me take her for a ride?" A sickening laugh faded into a room with three emotions only. Arousal, fear, and pure fucking rage. That arousal faded from Patrick when he saw the expression that adorned his friend's face.

"Get the fuck out of here, Hockstetter, or I'll kill you right here." There was a malice in Henry's voice that he'd never heard before. A spark in his eye, a snarl in his lip, and a clenched fist that showed truth in every word he spoke.

If Patrick didn't stop staring at Henry's girl, he would be a dead man and a tortured soul.

So he ducked out of the room and approached the two other members of their gang, shaken and annoyed, completely unwilling to tell the story of the scariest moment of his life.

Henry considered chasing after his friend, showing him how absolutely enraged he felt that his angel felt unsafe. But once he thought back to her, and felt her shivering from his arms, she was his main priority. He pulled her flush against him, not sexually anymore, just possessively. His arms encircled her and she wanted to completely fade into him.

Sobs racked her body. She'd heard horror stories of the boy and his disgusting acts on not only girls, but just others in general. So, when he said he wanted to take her for a ride, terror crept throughout every crevice of her body. Not only did she fear him, but she was absolutely humiliated. Another boy has seen her half naked, not to mention the vulnerable situation she was in.

After a second of silence, she was able to make out a few muffle words against his chest. "Please don't let him take me."

"No one will ever touch you. You're mine, and he knows that now. I'm gonna keep you hidden away from all that shit."

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Shadows and tears

So this is a series about Azriel and reader. English is not my first language so please excuse any mistakes. I hope you like it!

Summary: Reader is a tortured soul who barely escaped the brutality of the Illyrian camps finding shelter in the Day Court. Her identity was well hidden until she caught the attention of the Night Court’s Shadowsinger. Will the mating bond be enough for their love to settle in?

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse and trauma

Masterlist

Prologue , Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5, Chapter 7 , Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Chapter 6

I need her

You landed in Helion’s court, and to your surprise Helion was waiting for you by the gates of his palace. Rhysand must have informed him. You thought and couldn’t stop the tears as your dear friend opened his arms waiting to embrace you in a loving warm hug, and he did just that as sobs left your mouth, your body shaking. He already knew what happened thanks to Rhysand again and you made a mental note to thank him when you see him again for saving you from a long heartbreaking conversation.

“Wanna go inside?” he asked you and you nodded in return.

He guided you in his office and you spent the rest of the evening drinking wine listening to him talk about what has happened in the day court while you were gone.

“Helion I’m so sorry…” your eyes watered again.

“Why sweetheart?” he asked.

“There were times that I thought about not coming back here, I had so much fun, I thought I could be a part of their family” you explained avoiding his gaze.

“Y/n that’s why I wanted to send you back, I knew that you belong to the night court, you can fit there, do way more things that you are meant to do… there…not here.” He said and continued “also I had a feeling that the shadowsinger is your mate…” he lowered his gaze, now he was the one who couldn’t look into your eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up about meeting your mate and then be wrong” he explained.

Letting a sigh, you leaned back into the couch and stared the ceiling. Million thoughts ran through your mind making you feel dizzy. “He will want to see you” Helion said interrupting the chaos in your head.

“No” the power in your voice surprised both of you, Helion only nodded not wanting to pressure you. “There’s nothing more for him to say, we spent so much time together, he was different with me… I thought this meant something but he ruined everything. The bond means nothing to me if it’s the only reason he wants to be with me.” You continued and the decision was pretty clear for you, you had felt a tug to the bond when you were flying here so he knew, you blocked him and continued your flight.

“Helion…. Can you break the bond?” you asked and Helion stared at you wide-eyed.

“y/n are you sure you want that?” he asked. “Yes I’m sure” you replied a determined look on your face. “If we do this then both of you will feel tremendous pain, I have to grasp the bond and rip it off you both, it will feel like I’m ripping a part of your soul, and the emptiness….the emptiness has caused faes to kill themselves” he explained with a pained look.

“I want to do this.” You repeated.

“Okay, go get some rest and we will discuss this again tomorrow” you tried to protest but he kept a finger up “IF you still want to do this tomorrow then okay…” he concluded.

You left his office and went back to your old room; it was still the same as you left it. With a sigh you fell on your bed and slept, you will need to be well-rested tomorrow.

Helion spent the night thinking, he wrote a quick letter explaining what you are planning to do and sent it to Rhysand praying to the cauldron that someone from the inner circle will be able to change your mind.

Velaris

Rhysand was restless, he was pacing back and forth in the dining room, all eyes on him, only Azriel and Elain weren’t there. Azriel disappeared as soon as he felt the bond, blocking everyone from his mind and Elain left in tears as soon as Rhysand scolded her and threatened to ban her from his court if she went anywhere near Azriel again. Feyre surprised everyone when she agreed with Rhysand and Nesta kept her mouth shut knowing that Elain truly fucked up this time. They wouldn’t ban her of course but they had to make a point.

He kept pacing until a piece of paper fell in his hands, everyone stared at him in question. “Oh no” he said as soon as he finished the last line pulling his hair. “What is it?” Feyre asked leaving her chair to get the letter.

“She wants to break the bond?” she asked a sad expression on her face. A gasp startled them as Elain appeared from behind the door. “See what you did? Are you enjoying this?” Mor shouted and Amren placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

Rhysand tried with all of his powers to break through Azriel’s shields, scrapping to show him the severity of the situation.

What do you want? Azriel’s question rang through his mind.

You need to get back here right fucking now Az it’s urgent Rhysand replied slightly using his High Lord voice.

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat, did something happen to you? He rushed on his feet and let his shadows embrace him moving him to the house of the wind. He saw all of his friends, he could feel their anger, their worry but also sadness.

“What happened Rhys?” he was shaking, trying to keep a cool demeanour and a cold mask over his face.

“She wants to break the bond.” Rhys replied and stared at his shoes not wanting to see the look on his friend’s face.

“Can she do that?” Azriel’s voice was shaking and barely above a whisper.

“Helion can.” It was Feyre who replied wanting to save her mate from this awful conversation.

“I have to go there, maybe I can change her mind” Azriel stated waiting for the approval from his high lord, not that he wouldn’t go if Rhys denied him, but he hoped that maybe his friend would offer to accompany him in this hard trip.

“I will come with you” Mor said getting up. Azriel stared at her and she offered him a tight smile “I like to think that we became friends while she was here, maybe I can help you change her mind” she continued.

Azriel nodded and headed for the balcony but was stopped by Elain who ran to him falling on her knees and hugging his legs. “Don’t go…please, let her break the bond, I can ask Helion to do the same for me and then we can be together, nothing will stand between us” everyone stared in shock.

“Don’t you get it?” Azriel screamed so loud that Elain flinched and fell backwards crawling away from the shadowsinger, he was terrifying, his eyes wide his wings tense and widespread, his hands in tight fists and shadows frantic around him, his voice rough and cold… his siphons almost breaking from the power that trembled Velaris. “I fell for her and my stupid mind held me back, I thought it was meant to be three sisters for three brothers but I was wrong. I need her” he kept screaming his voice breaking at the end.

“I need her” he repeated.

@cleverzonkwombatsludge

[zootopiathingz]

A Promise in the Dead of Night

“I’m scared…”

Her voice is but a whisper, that Alastor barely registers her words at first. When he does, he feels himself tightening his arms around her, his mind already preparing to shield her from danger that he’s not made aware of.

Something’s been off about Charlie’s behavior and he hasn’t been able to determine the reason. From the moment she stepped in his room, he’s known she hasn’t been in her usual perky mood. It’s not unlike her to pay him a visit in the dead of night. Hell, it’s practically become routine for them. If he doesn’t end up falling asleep with her in her own bed, he can expect to find her hours later in his room, quietly requesting that she stay. And he never refuses. How could he possibly turn down such a request from the radiant, smiling princess of Hell?

But tonight, that gorgeous smile of hers that normally greets him when she enters a room was absent from her face. Her piercing eyes that could read all the secrets of his soul were puffy from tears she must have dried before coming to see him. She hasn’t uttered a word until now. She simply opened the door and walked over to join him on the sofa he sits on and crawled her way into his arms. He hasn’t questioned her, but he finds it odd that she had been so quiet. Not even a laugh, or even a breath. Has she been holding her breath the whole time?

Alastor brings his hand up to the back of her head that lays against his chest, raking his long claws through the soft strands of her golden hair. “Of what, dear?” He asks, his voice only slightly louder than hers.

She doesn’t answer. Not with words, at least. Instead she just further nuzzles her head against him, burying her face into the fabric of his coat like she’s trying to hide from something. Alastor swears he hears a faint whimper escape her—a sound that not only catches him off-guard, but fills him with rage. Several thoughts run through his mind like a herd of deer. What could have happened to her that would send her into such a fragile state? Who hurt her…?

Before jumping to conclusions, he decides to continue with his gentle approach. He shifts slightly, taking her chin between his fingers to lift her head away from his chest, her gaze instinctively meeting his. He’s met with the most heartbreaking look of vulnerability she’s ever displayed. He doesn’t like it one bit.

“What’s troubling you, my darling?” He questions her again, his thumb tenderly caressing the soft, milky skin of her face.

Charlie sniffles and briefly shifts her gaze downward as she struggles to answer in a way that makes sense. “I.. I don’t know.” She sighs shakily. She knows it’s a pathetic response, but she doesn’t know how to explain the hell-storm wreaking havoc in her mind.

Alastor stays quiet, only giving her a look that urges her to go on. And when she looks at him again, she does, however reluctantly.

“Oh Al.. I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach and no matter what I do, it won’t leave me alone.” Charlie lets out a small hiccup of a breath, leaning her head forward slightly, longing to lay on his chest again. “I keep having these horrible dreams. They play out differently, but they all end the same way…something bad happens, or someone attacks us, and one way or another, you get taken away from me. I don’t know what happens to you after. I always wake up before I can find out, but I’m afraid that it means you were…”

She pauses, not wanting to actually finish the thought aloud. She knows she doesn’t need to, anyway. Alastor can easily fill in the blank.

His signature smile, sealed by his lips at the moment, tightens at the corners. Charlie doesn’t see it, but his blinking eyes go wide for just a moment. It may be just a coincidence, it had to be. But what are the odds that they were both struggling with bad dreams about losing the other to some unknown force of darkness? Alastor hasn’t let it affect him like Charlie clearly has, because to him it shouldn’t have meant anything.

But to know that his princess was facing the exact same troubling phenomenon…that was a cause for alarm.

He doesn’t tell her of this. No, he refuses to worry her any more than she already has been. It’s his job to ease her worries, not increase them. It’s a burden he’ll bear for them both. What’s one more, anyway?

He pulls her in close to him as she snuggles into his arms. “Oh Charlie, you must not fret over something like night terrors.” He assures in a calming tone, trailing his hand up and down the length of her back. “They’re just dreams, after all. They cannot hurt us.”

“That’s the thing. What if they’re not just dreams?” Charlie argues, her body growing slightly tense at this thought she only just now realizes she has. “What if..it’s a warning?”

Alastor doesn’t even want to entertain the idea. He doesn’t want to imagine that that’s the reason behind their shared unconscious terrors. No, he won’t give into the fear. It will only consume them, and then they will be doomed to face it.

“You shouldn’t think like that, dear.” He says, leaning his head down, resting his chin atop of her head. “It will do you no good. You mustn’t let your fear control you.”

Charlie closes her eyes, her voice reverting back to its pitiful hushed tone. “I can’t stop it.”

There’s a brief moment of stillness between them. Neither dares to move from the warmth of the other’s touch. The air grows quiet, with only the cackling flames of the fireplace providing any source of sound. That is, until Alastor slowly lifts his head and pulls her back to face her again. The look in his eyes takes her aback. His grin is as wide as always, but there’s a subtle glimmer of sadness in his gaze that she’s never quite seen before. She’s not sure if she should feel touched that he’s grown so comfortable to express such vulnerability in front of her, or horrified of the meaning behind it…

“Then tell me what I can do to make it go away.” He raises his finger up to brush her bangs away from her forehead, before resting his hand against the side of her face, cupping her face in his palm. “Whatever it is, it will be done. Just name it.”

Charlie frowns softly, staring at him quietly for the longest minute. She’s not sure there’s anything he can do to make this all disappear. Alastor may be a powerful overlord, wielding immense power that has left even her impressed. But sadly, he can’t just snap his fingers and rid her of her fears like he wishes. Miracles like that weren’t possible down here in Hell.

There’s one thing he can do, though. As simple as it may be, it’s what she needs him to do.

Charlie leans her face into his palm, bringing her own hand up to hold his wrist as she looks deep into his eyes. “Just..promise me that no matter what happens, if anything happens, that nothing will tear us apart from each other.” She says, her voice trembling more and more with each word. “Whether these are just stupid dreams or not, I cannot lose you, Alastor. So please.. promise me now.”

Alastor gives her an incredulous look, raising his brow a little, just before he leans in, inching his face closer to hers.

“Charlie..my princess,” He speaks firmly, his voice lacking any static or filter that it normally carries, “I swear on my damned life, I will never let anything take you away from me. Not Heaven. Not Hell. Nothing is ever going to keep us apart. Do you understand?”

She nods slowly, and as she blinks the tears she’s been fighting back threaten to burst like a broken dam. Alastor kisses her, the tender touch of his lips bringing her a warm sense of comfort. He then pulls her back into his reassuring embrace, and at last the woman crumbles down. She cries into his shoulder, clinging onto him like she may lose him for good if she even thinks of letting go. He doesn’t say anything, knowing he’s said all he can to bring her solace and all he can do now is simply be here with her.

But they both know his words held nothing but truth to them. Charlie’s been the one good thing to ever happen to him in a long, long time. And he would sooner die again than ever let something rip that away from his grasp. He will hold onto her and use everything in his power to fight for her, and he will do it all with a smile on his face.

It’s alright, my love. Is his immediate thought when he hears that dreadful sound of her sobbing. He hugs her as close as he possibly can, letting his eyes fall shut as his face presses onto the mess of hair on her head. The shadow that resembles his shape looms over the pair, hovering its claws protectively over the woman in Alastor’s arms.

Anyone who tries to take you from me will be faced with a fate worse than death…

[papil0nglegs]

Fallen angel!Adam x Moth healer!Reader

Chapter 2: Consolation

(Ch.1) (Ch.2)

Warnings: Swearing, nightmares, more angst, mentions of genitalia, a bit of body dysmorphia

A/n: Tysm for the support on the first fic <33 again I’m new to this writing stuff so pls send feedback if you have any 🫶🏽 Also for this fic I added a bit more focus on Adam as a character because i absolutely HATED how 2 demential they made him in the show 😭

Adam’s dream pov:

Im back..

Back at the garden.

Lillith ran away a few days ago because of what I proposed to her.

When I found her she was with someone else.. the fucking clown

Why him?

Why not me?

Why not me?

What’s wrong with me-?!

3rd pov:

While Adam’s nightmare, about the fateful day he saw Lilith with Lucifer, he hears distant humming in the background. Beautiful humming, mixed with the sound of running water too.

He begins to open his eyes, however it was a challenge for him to do so, because of the hardened crust that formed due to his unwiped tears from last night. He turns his head towards the humming, causing him to groan.

You then stop humming, hearing his groans from afar. “Oh! You’re awake” you say in a happy tone, grabbing a bowl and filling it up with water, along with a cloth. You then walk towards him, sitting on an armchair that was next to the couch that he had been resting on.

Adam tries to get a better look at you by raising his head a bit towards you, but is barely able to do so because of the crust around his eyes blurring his vision. “Are you.. Am I..?” He asks in a low voice, interrupted by a cough.

That’s when it hit you, he’s a new soul. Your warm smile then fades into a worried frown. “Sigh, I’m sorry. But, you’ve passed, you’re in hell now.” You then grab the wash cloth, dipping it in the cold water and placing it on his head. “Just relax, please”

Adam sighs after them, then sitting up on the couch while holding the cloth against his head. “Whyd you take me?” He asks. “You want some dick or something..”

Your eyes slightly widen, out of all the assumptions he could’ve made you didn’t expect it to be that. “What? No I helped you because you looked like you needed help, and you didn’t seem to want to aggressively assault me. That can be difficult to find down here.”

He snarls at you, then standing up from the chair weakly. “Where’s the bathroom? I need to take a wicked hot piss right now” He yawns stretching.

“Down the hall to the left” You say pointing to the hallway. “I can show you if you’d like” You suggest standing from your chair.

“Fuck you, you think I can’t find the shit room by myself?” He snaps, getting defensive because of his fever.

“It’s possible” you admit, as well as intending to messing with him. “But go ahead, I’ll make you something to eat while you’re at it, you must be starving.”

As he stomps to the bathroom he mutters insults under his breath. “Hippie bitch, I can go piss by myself, you wanna hold my dick up for me too motherfucking whore-?”

As he enters the bathroom. He gasps quietly, noticing that big parts of his appearance have changed. He now has big horns, that look exactly like the ones that were on his extermination mask, except one was missing its pointy part entirely. His skin now a reddish grey, as well as his hair but much darker. He spreads his wings a bit, expecting to see his normally feathery wings, but they’ve now turned into dragon like wings.

He sneers at the sight of it, he’s now turned into the thing that he’s hated most. A sinner. An embodiment of the wicked and cruelest parts of humanity.

“Fuck..”

Y/n’s pov:

I continue to make the stranger something to eat, I don’t have much since I haven’t gotten groceries yet, so I’m just serving him some left overs. It always hurts seeing someone get hurt from the extermination, especially when I know I can do much, most people who I want to help after an extermination simply lash out on me, worst than what the stranger had just done now. So I’m getting a little hope.

Sure he’s being quite rude right now, but who wouldn’t be after what he’s been through. He’s probably a new soul, who just fell into an extermination. I can only imagine the relief he’s gonna feel when he finds out hell isn’t always like how he first saw it.

I hear the toilet flush, along with the door opening indicating that he finished his little trip. He goes to sit at the small dinner table next to the kitchen, and I notice that his hands are dry, too dry.

“You’re not gonna wash your hands?” I ask kinda weirded out.

“Umm, and why would I need to wash my hands? My dick is clean enough.” I roll my eyes at his response. “Anyways what’s your name babe?” He asks.

I then become surprised on how much pride he has, to call a stranger who had showed them great kindness and belittle them with such a name “Im sorry, but I am not your ‘babe’” I respond in air quotes. “Secondly my name is y/n, so there is no need for these immature nicknames.”

Adam takes notice of the name, “y/n? Oof, I dated a y/n before. She was so bitchy, maybe all y/ns are” he says in a cocky voice.

“Huh, well I’d love to hear about her sometime I guess.” I then place the plate of pasta to him. “It’s not much but it’s all I have, apologies” I say sitting on the dinner table with him. He then starts to absolutely devour it as if he hadn’t eaten for a month.

I laugh in slight amusement. “what happened? Did you die of hunger or something?” I ask jokingly, unaware of what my gesture of humor would to do him.

He pauses, looking down at the plate of food, his face seems saddened but not wanting to show it. I immediately begin to regret asking such a question.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it” I say in a worried tone. “I was born here so I wouldn’t know how bad it would feel, to die then enter a place like this. Please, forgive me.” I then place my hand on top of his free one, attempting to comfort him in a way. “So, what’s your name? I’ve been wondering what it is since I brought you here.” I ask trying to distract him from his sadness.

“My name? shit uhh,,, itss Adam.” He seemed a bit scared to ask me, not sure why. Adam seems like a pretty normal name for someone like him.

“It must’ve been scary huh? Falling into an extermination like that, angels come here every once a year to kill us,, it’s horrible.” I explain. “It’s okay, this place isn’t all bad, every now and then you find some nice people. Although they are hard to find.”

Adam stares as I explain a few aspects of hell, I’m glad he’s open to trying to find out how things work around here instead of immediately going on a killing spree like some sinners.

I really do wish that he’ll open up to me soon, and that I can open up to him. I’m not sure where this will go, I just hope that it’ll go well enough.