#angsty smut my beloved

[sparrowxlake]

Silent Vow - Lucy Maclean x Fem!Reader

summary: the trail has gone cold, leaving you and Lucy to look for leads in the last settlement before the Mojave. she's struggling with the weight of recent revelations and you think you know just what she needs to lift her spirts.

warnings: 18+ content minors dni, angst, smut, vaginal fingering, oral, lucy tops, f!reader recieving, masturbation

From your position, comfortably leaned against the post outside of the bar, you’ve got a good view of the busy marketplace. It’s early in the evening, and the market is bustling with activity. Stands are tightly packed into the dusty square, dozens of people weaving in and out of the crowd. 

You’ve already done your part here, asking around from the store owners in the area. It’s been a couple of days since the trail had gone cold, Hank Maclean seemingly disappearing into thin air. After his escape back west, Lucy’s been searching with a mix of fervor and apprehension. You’re not sure what it’s for, in the end, but you’re more than happy to help your companion see things through. 

This settlement is the last before an unforgiving stretch of road leading toward the Mojave. Last chance to catch any leads before you spend a few miserable days traveling toward Nevada. Lucy puts on a brave face, because it’s in her nature, but you sense the anxiety bubbling underneath it all. 

Still, when she turns your way and catches your eye, it’s as if that worry she’s holding onto slips away, if just for a moment. She beams, a broad smile spreading across her features as she sends you a thumbs up. It would be easier keeping your composure in the face of a Deathclaw, you think, than not crumbling at the sight of that smile.

She returns to the salesperson she’s speaking with, and you hope for her sake that someone here has some information for her. As it stands, you’ve been unsuccessful with your own shakedowns. Nobody in the past three settlements has any idea where this guy could have gone. 

When you reconvene with your companion, she looks eagerly to you to speak first. You rock back on your heels as you give an apologetic shrug. “Nothing.”

“Really? You asked in all the shops? Maybe I could-” “Lucy,” You say, reaching out to rest your hands on her shoulders, steadying her. 

Her expression has shifted from hopeful to crestfallen. Frankly, she looks exhausted, dark circles ringing her eyes. Since her confrontation with her father and the chaos that followed, Lucy’s been slowly spiraling toward full-on hopelessness. You’ve been doing your best to keep her spirits high, and she does try - maybe more for your benefit than her own.

“We’ll find him. We can check again tomorrow, alright?” You offer, lightly squeezing her shoulders in a reassuring gesture.

When she looks down, her eyes are stormy with a mix of emotions. Frustration, fatigue, grief. You don’t blame her. Her whole world was blown up in a moment, and she’s left to put back the pieces. She knows she doesn’t have to do it alone, that she can rely on you, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that things are utterly broken. 

“C’mon. Let’s find somewhere to rest for the night. We both need some sleep.”

You find a place to stay, more bar than inn, but you don’t complain when there’s a cheap bed. It’s not an especially nice room, but it certainly beats sleeping on the ground. 

The bed is small, no more than a mattress on a rusty frame. There’s a small table, a lamp, a broken dresser. What’s really surprising is the attached bathroom. It’s dingy, but it has running water and a shower. You can’t help but light up at the thought of properly cleaning up. There’s only so much one can do with bottled water and a rag. 

You let Lucy take a turn first, hoping the opportunity to clean will help brighten her mood. You wait on the edge of the bed, twiddling your fingers, reflecting. It’s been a difficult few weeks since you met Lucy. Things have changed so quickly between the two of you and it’s hard to make sense of it. You had thought of it as a job at first, helping her find her father. Lugging around a rotting head for the benefit of a near-stranger. And then, you found yourself falling for her, quicker than any previous romances. Lucy is very different from the women you’ve been with before. It’s not just that she’s from a vault, it’s her outlook. There’s a certain jadedness that comes with surviving the wasteland, something Lucy just doesn’t have. She tackles life with a smile and sunny disposition. You feel this need to protect that part of her, to keep the wasteland from taking that from her. 

In the end, it may be the person who instilled her with those values that ends up undoing her. You shudder at the thought. 

She’s so strong. You think that the sort of blows she’s been dealt would leave you utterly broken. A whole life, shattered. 

Just when you think you might check on her, Lucy emerges from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. She looks a little refreshed, you decide. Progress.

You make your shower quick, eager to get back out to your companion. It makes you a little nervous to leave her in the room by herself, alone with her thoughts. So you scrub the grime and dirt from the road away at a breakneck pace under a spray of uncomfortably cold water. 

You take a moment to scrub your clothes as well, not having an abundance of spares. You take what opportunities you can to clean them. Lucy’s done the same, leaving her clothes hanging on one of the towel racks. You sling yours over the curtain rod before exiting the bathroom. 

She’s right where you left her, bundled up in a towel sitting on the edge of the bed. She looks up at you and forces a smile. It doesn’t reach her eyes.

“You wanna talk about it?” You ask, settling next to her, sitting shoulder to shoulder.

Lucy sighs, arms tightening around herself. “I don’t know what to say that hasn’t already been said.” “Say it again, then, if you think it’ll help.” You nudge her and offer a reassuring look.

“Not sure if stewing in misery has ever helped anyone,” She mumbles, brows knitting together. “But sure, worth a try right? I’m sure talking about how my whole life has been a big lie, how everything I was raised to believe has been a complete joke. How my father, who I’ve idolized like a complete idiot, is an actual monster who’s responsible for who knows how many deaths. That’s not even including the people who’ve suffered because of him. Because of me…”

She presses her face into her hands, body tensing. She curls in on herself, nails biting into her arms as she grips herself.

“And I shouldn’t feel guilty, right? I was a little girl, I didn’t even remember it, not really. I shouldn’t feel guilty, but I do. For being here. For having the nerve to come out here and stumble through the wasteland with my stupid, naive attitude. I mean, I really thought I could just come up here and smile my way through the wasteland and bring Dad back home-”

Her voice breaks and she laughs dryly. It’s a soul crushing sort of laugh that makes your heart ache more than you thought it could. 

“I don’t think you’re stupid. You couldn’t have known about him, about any of it. You did what you thought was right, and nobody can fault you for that,” You reply, voice soft, carefully offering comfort. You don’t want her to think it’s disingenuous, and it’s not. 

“Lucy, you’re not wrong for feeling any of this. But, none of this is your fault. What he’s done isn’t a reflection of you.”

Lucy’s head snaps up at this and her eyes blaze with anger. “If I’m not a reflection of him, then what am I? All my life, everything I’ve done, it’s all been for him. To be him. To make him proud.”

You take a breath, steeling yourself. She laughs again, bitterly now.

“You’re not him. You’re you. Sure, he’s a part of you, the same way your whole community is part of you. Everyone that’s ever meant something to you is in there, right? Your brother, your friends, your mother. That’s all there too.” Lucy watches you, anger shifting into something else. You’re not quite able to read into her expression, so you continue, digging deep to find your conviction:

“The way you were raised, your beliefs, Golden Rule and all, that’s not wrong just because he taught it to you. You shouldn’t let him take that from you too.”

She looks away from you, eyes glassy. You reach out, gently taking one of her hands. She tenses at the touch, just for a moment, then intertwines her fingers with yours. Lucy doesn’t cry. She’s tired of crying over her father. Tired of crying over anything, frankly. Just tired. 

But she allows herself to feel all of it as she thinks about your words.

It’s a while before she responds, sitting still as a statue next to you, your fingers still intertwined. She opens her eyes finally, looking at you, having found her resolve again. 

“I think I needed to hear that. Thank you.” Her voice is soft, just about a whisper. She leans her head against your shoulder tentatively before relaxing into your side. 

You press a kiss into her still-damp hair, a reassuring and affectionate gesture. “Anytime, Lucy.”

She hums appreciatively, squeezing your hand gently. “Go ahead and tell me more nice things. Help rebuild a poor girl’s self-esteem.” You laugh softly at that, meeting her gaze. She’s starting to get a familiar warmth back in her eyes, and it makes you melt a little bit. “Hmm… What can I say that hasn’t already been said about Lucy Maclean?” She makes a face, features scrunching slightly. You melt further, expression softening. Her cheeks start to tint pink at your look. “Let’s see… You’re a good person. So full of empathy for others that sometimes it pisses me off. You want to see the good in everything. And you’re good at it. I can’t even really be mad because you’re so genuine.” You find yourself leaning in closer, shifting slightly where you’re seated so your knees bump together. “You really believe the world could be better than what it is. That we could really come together and make something out of this mess. You make me feel like there’s some hope. Like there’s a future worth working toward.” This time, she’s the one moving closer. “I don’t know about that… I want to run back to the vault half of the time and just forget about this.” “But you don’t. You’re still out here. I know we aren’t going east just for revenge or something petty.” She shrugs, eyes alight with something akin to amusement. Lucy can’t help the smile that’s starting to spread across her features.

“Oh, one more. You’re going to really like this one,” You say, sitting up straighter, voice full of confidence and bravado. “You’re really, really pretty.”

Lucy tries to make a disapproving face, but loses composure and laughs. It’s the first real laugh you’ve gotten out of her in days. It’s like music, you could listen to that sound all day. 

You aren’t sure if it’s you or her that closes the distance, but your lips meet in a soft kiss, both smiling into it. Everything feels warm and fuzzy, like snuggling into a warm blanket. You’re enveloped by a sense of comfort, affection, connection. It’s a better high than any chem. 

The air slowly shifts from a comfortable warmth to a static tension, each touch, each kiss, sending sparks through you. You don’t want to push her into something she’s not comfortable with, but when you pull away she’s following to close the distance again, kiss insistent, deeper, hungrier. 

Her arms wrap around your neck, hands in your hair. Your stomach lurches deliciously as she traces her tongue over your lips.

This time, she is the one pulling away, taking ragged breaths as she tries to catch her breath. Your eyes meet and it sends a shiver down your spine. She holds your gaze, eyes dark with desire.

Before you can ask, she’s saying, “I need you.”

You just nod, eager to please. You set yourself to the task at hand, determined to take her mind off of any unpleasantness, to help her forget her troubles for tonight. 

Your mouth finds her neck, pressing kisses along the sensitive skin as she holds on to you, sighing softly as your lips brush along her skin. You want to see that every inch of her is appreciated, is cared for, is worshipped. 

She’s tossing aside her towel, then yours, before your hands even think to do it. She pushes you back to straddle your waist, leaning forward to capture your lips in a searing, possessive kiss. It all happens so quickly, your head is left spinning. “This is supposed to be about you, Lucy,” You manage to get out between kisses.

She pulls back enough to look at you properly, smiling innocently, as if she doesn’t have you naked, pinned at the shoulders. “It is.”

You don’t fight her on this. If she wants control, you’re happy to give it to her. You relax under her, hands resting on her waist as she presses a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. Your heart clenches and you look up at her with adoration. In this moment, you think she’s very much like her own sort of nuclear weapon. Warm, bright, completely devastating. 

Lucy gets a certain look when she tops, a confident determination. She has it now as she sits up and lets her eyes rake over your body, trailing a hand slowly down your throat, between your breasts, stopping short of your navel. You swallow thickly, the movement drawing her attention back to your throat. Another innocent smile as she leans down and ghosts her mouth over your skin. 

You whine, fingers digging into her soft skin. The sound only spurs her on, nipping and sucking a path down your throat to your collarbones, leaving a trail of wet, red marks. Your hips shift involuntarily, bucking upward, seeking friction and finding none. 

Feeling you shifting under her, she repositions herself, careful not to break contact between her mouth and your skin, slotting a thigh between your legs. You’ll have to make due with it for now, grinding lazily against her leg, wishing it were her hands or mouth. She smiles against your skin, making a low sound in her throat.

Your hands trace up her sides, over her back, mapping out the planes of her body under your eager fingertips. Every touch is like a jolt of static, rippling through your body and igniting a heat low in your stomach. You ache for her, the grinding against her leg doing little to sate your hunger. You whine again, needier than before. 

“Tell me you want me,” She says, voice muffled by your skin. 

Her mouth is on your chest now, tracing her tongue over the curve of your breast. Her pace is maddening, a slow and torturous assault on your senses. When you don’t give the response she wants, she bites, just hard enough to refocus your attention. You give a sharp cry, more surprised than anything. 

“I want you, Lucy. Please, don’t stop,” You gasp, voice ragged and rough. 

Her eyes flick upward to meet yours for a moment, swirling with need and dark intentions, before returning her attention to your chest. Her mouth kisses and licks over your breast, her hand attending to the other. You arch up into her touch, soft moans falling from your lips whether you want them to or not.

Your body responds of its own volition, writing under her every agonizing touch. It’s a sweet torture, one that you’d readily submit yourself to again and again. She pulls her head back and your hands fly to her face, pulling her back up into a rough kiss. Lips against swollen lips, tongues and teeth, leaving your mouths smeared with saliva.

“More, please,” You plead, hips rolling against her thigh insistently. 

She nods eagerly, mouthing over your jawline as her hand travels down your stomach, between your thighs. Your hand grips her wrist, guiding her hand down. She lets you, smirking against your jaw. 

You whimper when her fingers finally make contact with your folds, still gripping tightly to her wrist. Her touch is feather-light, less teasing and more worship as she traces over your slit, slowly, deliberately. Your head falls back against the mattress, muscles quivering with the intensity of your building need. It’s too much and not enough. You want her to delve in to you and you want this torture to continue on into forever. 

“All this for me?” Lucy teases softly, breath hot on your ear. 

“Can you blame me?” You respond breathlessly. 

“Guess not. I am good at this, right?” Her voice is still teasing, but there’s a cocky undertone, because of course Lucy’s cocky. 

In the short time you’ve known each other, Lucy has proven herself a fast learner across the board. Sex has been no different. She’s gotten you down to a science. If she wanted to, you’re sure she could take you apart with a few precise touches. 

“Shut up and fuck me already.” Lucy laughs again, warm and light. It’s the kind of laugh that would have you melting, under different circumstances. But, as it stands, your skin is ablaze, body so consumed with a desperate need for the woman on top of you, the last thing you’re thinking about are warm and fuzzy feelings. 

“Okie-dokie, you asked for it.”

She continues the slow strokes of her fingers a moment longer, before moving down between your legs. Her mouth replaces her hands, tongue delving into your folds, moaning against your core. You fist your hands in the sheets as she flicks the end of her tongue over your clit, drawing out a high whine. 

Your mind is a haze of lust and disjointed thoughts. You can hear yourself whining and moaning and begging incoherently. All you can do is chase your fast-approaching release as Lucy’s mouth works between your legs.

Her fingers press just below her mouth, slipping into you with little resistance. Her thrusts are shallow and slow, working in time with the pace of her mouth. You arch up, your hips roll, seeking more friction, more pressure, just more. 

“Lucy, please,” You plead, unsure of what you’re begging for. For release, for her to never stop? Either way, she smiles against you, pulling back for a moment to assess her work. 

“You’re already so close. Hold on a little longer. For me.” Her voice is so soft and affectionate. Lucy’s mouth doesn’t return to where you need it, not right away. She nuzzles into your thigh gently, pressing gentle kisses as her fingers fuck into you, curling inside of you, setting every nerve ending alight across your body. You cry out, desperately grinding into her hand.

Her mouth is back again, sucking your aching clit into her mouth. You garble out a mix of curses and pleas, hands flying to her hair to keep her firmly in place, giving you better leverage to grind against her face in desperate need. There’s nothing else, just Lucy, the dual stimulation between your clit and pussy, the edge you’re hanging over. 

Lucy focuses intensely on bringing you to your release, upping her pace to a relentless assault. She needs this as much as you do. Through your unfocused eyes, you’re aware that she has her free hand between her own legs, chasing her own release as she brings you to yours.

The sight of it has your hurtling over the edge, orgasm ripping through you with an unexpected intensity, like a tidal wave. You’re consumed completely by your release, vision whiting out, voice crying out hoarsely, throat burning from overuse. Your hips stutter against her face, but she dutifully licks and fucks you through your orgasm. When you finally start to come back to yourself, she’s the one seizing up, choking out a moan, face pressed into your thigh. 

You’re utterly spent, or you might try to drag her up to initiate round two. Boneless, you lay panting and trembling with Lucy collapsed between your legs, riding out the high of her own release. Your hands are still in her hair, you realize, loosening your grip on her as you begin to gently stroke her brown hair. 

You both bask in the quiet for a time, comfortable in the quiet intimacy of the dim room. Lucy moves first, though she doesn’t move far. She rests her hands on your stomach, laying her head overtop of her hands, gazing up at you affectionately. She’s got a silly, lopsided smile, so pretty you think you could cry. 

“You alright?” Lucy asks gently, though the cocky edge to her tone is still present. 

You’d roll your eyes if you weren’t so thoroughly fucked into exhaustion. “I’m great. That was… yeah, that was good.” 

Her smile broadens, eyes sparkling. You lightly push against her face, turning her to look anywhere else. She laughs, pushing back against her hand. “Don’t let it go to your head,” you tell her, suppressing your own bubbling laughter. 

She moves again, settling beside you so she can pepper kisses over your face as you squirm uselessly against her, her arms snaking around your waist. She holds you firmly in place so all you can do is endure her assault. By the end, you’re both lost in a fit of giggles. It takes some time to regain composure, but when you do, she pulls you into a gentle kiss, slow and easy, like you’ve done it a thousand times before. Like you’ll do a thousand times again. 

“Thanks for that. I didn’t realize I needed it,” She murmurs once she’s had her way with you, face nuzzling into your neck. 

“Feels like I should be thanking you. But yeah, any time,” You reply, sounding almost shy. 

You trace idle patterns over her shoulders, marveling in the feel of her skin under your fingertips. Her arms tighten around you, as if she could pull you into her, becoming one body. You sigh contentedly, looking up at the ceiling. 

When you two are like this, fitted together like two perfectly matching puzzle pieces, you can’t help but feel like this is what you’re meant for. It’s not as much as a revelation as it is something you think you’ve always known. Wherever she wants to go, you’re going to follow. As long as she’ll have you, you’ll be by her side. 

Lucy’s fingers find your chin, tilting your head back down so you’re looking at her. You wonder momentarily if she can read your mind as your eyes lock. She looks at you with a renewed resolve, a silent vow that mirrors your own. Neither of you need to speak to know what’s being communicated. And, for now, nothing else matters but that. 

[madrabit]

for the kiss ask thing? :3 bonace, 25

Heho ✨️

So this has been sitting in my ask box for.... a while now. I'm very, very sorry for that, anon (and also sorry to everyone else still waiting), you've probably already forgotten about sending me that prompt, but sometime ago, I promised to fill all the kiss prompts I received and I will be doing that, it might just take a while.

This turned out way longer than intended and had slowly been evolving into a little 5 + 1. I will post the first chapter as an answer to this prompt, and every subsequent chapter will be posted on ao3, so if you want to keep up with it, you might wanna check it out there!

If you want me to write you something as well, you can send me a ship and a kiss 🩷 or a ship and a prompt ✨️ ( the second one is a spicier list)

Anyway, enjoy ☺️����

25. ... as a yes (five times a kiss means yes and one time it means yes)

I.

It wasn't the first time it happened, but it was always rough watching it play out.

Nace could see Bojan start to shake the second they left the stage.

It was almost unnoticeable at first, a small thing that could easily be blamed on the adrenaline still rushing through all of them, making them giddy and restless.

But Nace noticed the difference as Bojan kept pacing the room after they all had a quick shower, not answering when Jure asked him if he also wanted something to snack or when Jan tried to talk to him.

Not a moment later, Bojan turned on his feet, heaving for breath as he stormed off in the direction of their backstage restroom. He was stumbling, bumping into one of the girls working at the venue and just rushed past her without apologizing, even when she tried talking to him.

Quickly, Nace followed him, throwing the girl a smile and a quick “sorry” and he barely managed to get to the door before Bojan was able to shut and lock it.

“Bojan, stop”, he said softly as the younger tried pushing the door closed, tried pushing him away and shutting everyone out to be alone in his panicked state.

It was surprisingly easy to open the door wide enough to squeeze through, even though Bojan was leaning against it to block entry, and when he finally got inside the little bathroom, Nace closed the door himself and locked it.

“Go away…”, Bojan mumbled, his quiet voice breaking at the end and he backed off until he hit the wall, sliding down on it until he ended up on the floor. A tiny sob ran through him and he hugged his legs close to his chest, burying his face in his knees to hide away as more and more tears fell.

“Oh Bojči”, Nace sighed softly, crouching down in front of the younger man, reaching out to touch his arm, but stopped, hand hovering in the air uselessly, not sure if he was allowed to touch him right now.

Carefully, he let his eyes wander over Bojan's shaking form, noticing how much smaller than usual he looked, how he barely seemed to hold on.

And Nace would love to just take him into his arms, shield him from whatever was making him feel this way, just like the first time Bojan was breaking apart after a gig at which he already had a panic attack on stage. Physical touch had helped before, had calmed him down enough to push through that feeling, but Nace didn't, couldn't, know if it was the same now, if Bojan wanted to be touched or comforted at all.

“Can I touch you?”, he asked gently, voice low and quiet to not startle the boy in the relative quiet of the tiny bathroom.

After a moment or an eternity, Bojan nodded, face still pressed against his knees and carefully, Nace reached out again, tracing his fingertips over Bojan's arm, watching goosebumps form on the clammy skin.

“It's okay, Bojč, I'm here…”

Bojan let out a tiny little noise, shifting slowly at first until suddenly Nace had an arm full of sobbing puppy. The force with which Bojan had thrown himself at him almost made them topple over, but he could regain his balance, wrapping his arms around Bojan's shoulders.

“Breathe with me”, he whispered, taking deep breaths and slowly, he felt Bojan try to follow his breathing pattern through sobs and raspy gasps for air.

Nace didn't know how long they were already sitting on the floor of the bathroom, just breathing together, but he was glad he could do this for his friend, could help him through the rough time he was having. That Bojan let him in, let Nace see him like this, vulnerable and raw, and was accepting his help and the comfort Nace was just all too willing to give him.

“Let's get you to the hotel, yes?”, he whispered into Bojan's ear as the smaller man finally seemed to calm down a bit, nuzzling his soft, freshly washed hair and Bojan nodded against his shoulder.

Fingers dug in his back when he stood up, pulling Bojan with him, who was clinging to him like a lifeline, face now pressed against Nace's neck and in less than a few minutes he managed to guide the still shaking singer through the backstage area, outside and into the van after asking Kiki to quickly drive them to back to their accommodation.

On the drive, Bojan was clutching a bucket, head hanging low between his shoulders as a sudden wave of sickness hit him once the car set into motion while Nace soothingly rubbed his back. Gently, he let his hand run through still slightly wet hair, talking in a low voice, babbling about everything and nothing, just so Bojan could ground himself with a familiar voice, and could ignore the shaking of the car and the bumpy roads they had to take.

Kiki dropped them off with a worried glance, telling Nace he'll have the others collect their stuff, which Nace knew Kris had already done as soon as he saw the bassist steer an unresponsive Bojan to the private back entrance of the venue.

Once they made it back to Bojan's hotel room, Nace made quick work of stripping the smaller man of the clothes he had thrown on after his shower at the venue, putting him in some shorts and a large shirt instead and then carefully tucked Bojan into bed after getting him to drink a few sips of water.

Nace was about to get up from where he sat on the edge next to his friend, ready to go to his own room and let Bojan have some privacy, but before he could even make a move, a tentative hand wrapped around his wrist, tugging on his arm to make him look back down at the boy.

The shaking has gone down for the most part, replaced by little yawns and sniffling, tears almost all dried up. But the anxious stare in his eyes showed how much Bojan was still shaken up, still not completely out of the spiral and Nace was afraid Bojan would get dragged under again the second he was alone with his own thoughts.

“Stay?”, the younger man croaked out, clearing his throat and Nace took a deep breath, thinking about it for a moment, even though he already knew he wouldn't be able to say no, not when wide doe eyes looked up at him, practically begging him for comfort.

Without thinking too much, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Bojan's forehead.

“Scoot over”, he chuckled as he kicked off his shoes and pants, sliding under the covers as soon as Bojan lifted them for him.

Once he was settled, the singer turned to face him and instinctively, Nace wrapped him up in his arms, pulling him closer and tucking him right under his arm, while Bojan put his head on Nace's chest.

“Thank you, Nacko”, Bojan mumbled into his shirt, rubbing the tip of his nose over Nace's pec, wrapping his arms around the older man and squeezing him like a life sized teddy bear. Nace felt a fond feeling spread through him as Bojan's breath slowly evened out and the younger soon fell asleep.

Check it out on ao3

[arcielee]

ahhhh arcie! happy birthday!

thank you for being such a feral and lovely raccoon in our own life and perpetually bringing kindness and sweetness in our life!

thank you, in conclusion for being (amazing) and yourself!

hope you'll get a lot of cake to eat!

Angsti, my beloved, thank you 💜

[sttoru]

#𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: “show me you’re shameless, write it on my neck, why don’t ya?”

cw. married!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, angst to comfort. cheating/infidelity. unprotected. crēampie. bréeding themes. soft angsty-ish sèx. petnames ‘baby, sweetheart, wifey’ not proofread !

satoru has never loved the woman he married. he’s never felt an ounce of attraction or affection towards her. it’s hard to be around someone who he’s supposed to love and cherish, when all he can think about is you.

it’s you he was supposed to end up with if it wasn’t for his damned clan. setting up an arranged marriage behind his back and only telling him last minute of their plans— a bunch of assholes they are.

satoru could’ve declined, disagreed, ran away. he had all the power to, but he had fully convinced himself that his actual soulmate - you - would never return his love, which is why he settled.

. . . he was proven wrong after it was already too late.

“i love you s’much,” satoru grits his teeth as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his sweat trickling down his forehead. his hips move in a gentle rhythm, as tender as his arms are holding you. he never treated you roughly.

satoru wouldn’t do that to the love of his life. the one who he’s supposed to call his wife, his beloved. he’ll find a way to achieve his dreams. he’ll do anything to end up with you and escape this messed up arrangement.

but for now, he’ll love you like this. every day, behind the other woman’s back, for as long as he can.

“i love you too, ‘toru,” you sigh, tilting your head to give the white-haired man access to your neck. his tongue wets your sensitive skin before sucking on it. he’s claiming you as his— like he usually does whenever he manages to get ahold of you.

“say that again,” satoru whimpers against your throat whilst leaving soft kisses all over. the sounds of your bodies meeting bounces off the walls, the lewd noise of flesh hitting flesh is a melody that you both enjoy behind closed doors.

“please,” satoru pleads. you’re surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. he holds onto you - ruts into you - like he’s never experienced this before. his cock twitches and throbs within you, desperate to reach that aching release.

you swallow the lump in your throat. you feel bad doing this right on the bed that satoru shares with his wife, but you also couldn’t care less. “i love you, satoru, i really do,” you moan near his ear.

the sorcerer shivers at your pretty voice uttering those three words to him. his big hands hold onto your waist, fingers digging into your skin, leaving small dents. his breath hitches, “oh, fuck. y’do, huh?”

satoru curses as he lifts his head from your neck. the view of you beneath him while you take his dick all the way inside your sopping cunt is addicting. it’s also way too slippery because of the mixture of cum on your lower body and the sheets.

“ah,” you look down at the place your bodies meet the second you feel his cock slip out of your pussy. you reach a hand down and guide his tip back to your folds without much thought.

it’s a sight that makes satoru nearly bust a nut right then and there. “missin’ me already?” he tilts his head, that boyish smile on his lips reappearing again. his soaked, white bangs cover his ethereal eyes a little, yet you can still notice the playfulness in them.

“yeah, i do,” you sigh, whining a little as his cock slowly fills you up all the way again, “i always miss you, ‘toru.” you never fail to feel so full whenever you’re intimate with him— he’s big and knows just how to use that to his advantage.

satoru pouts at your words. he knows what you’re indirectly referring to amidst all the physical pleasure. he tries to make as much time for you as he can, without raising suspicion. though sometimes he fails to see you for days. balancing his work schedule, along with his many other duties and his private life was a hassle.

it’s frustrating when satoru is leading a double life, for both you and him. there’s nothing more in this world that he wants than to have you beside him forever. as his wife, not his secret lover.

one day, soon— he promises silently to himself and to you with a kiss.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes out, his thrusts resuming. two of his rough fingers roll your nipple between them, his tongue following to circle the sensitive bud while he drives his dick in and out of you repeatedly. “but i’m all yours tonight, yeah? only yours.”

you nod mindlessly. you trust satoru, he’ll figure this all out. for now, you’ll enjoy every single second you’re able to spend with him.

“mhm,” you hum before your eyes focus on his neck. you know he’s told you not to leave any marks on him, but tonight, you’re feeling shameless. your hand on the back of his head pushes him down until your lips touch his neck.

satoru’s eyes widen at your unexpected action. he can’t deny you anything, even if this is a risky thing to do. he moans when you suck and bite on his skin. you’re leaving hickeys he will have to hide from his wife.

“naughty fuckin’ girl,” he tries to groan, though it comes out as a choked up whimper instead. he bites his lip and his eyes nearly roll back when your legs wrap around his waist, all whilst you’re leaving those dark marks on his neck.

you softly giggle at your own bold move. satoru however, seems to enjoy this more than he thought he would. he allows you access to his neck while he focuses on his set pace.

“y’ just want me to get caught, hm?” the white-haired man clicks his tongue, his balls slapping against your ass, your juices sticking to his skin which makes the sounds of his thrusts even louder. lewder. satoru huffs, “want that woman to know jus’ how well i fuck you, sweetheart?”

you feel your body heat up, the knot in your lower tummy tightening. his increased dirty talk only could mean one thing; he’s close. and so are you. the pleasure of having satoru inches deep in your cunt after not seeing him for two whole days, is driving you insane.

“yes, fuck— yes,” you hiccup, feeling absolutely no shame at this moment. you don’t care how loud you’re getting, if satoru’s neighbours were to hear him have sex with a woman that’s not his wife.

the man himself doesn’t even seem to mind it either. not when he’s this close. he pants before pressing soft kisses against your forehead. the lingering feeling of your lips against his neck remind him of the hickeys you’ve left.

satoru moans against your hot skin. his dick twitches, his balls tighten and his arms wrap around you to cradle you against his bare chest. he’s going to fill you with his hot cum like you deserve. you deserve every single drop and he wouldn’t give it to anyone else but you.

“shit, g’nna cum,” satoru warns after a small whine leaves his throat, “take it, baby. don’t waste a drop, wanna breed you full.” his thrusts turn a bit erratic, body pinning yours to the mattress so you have nowhere to run. all you can do is lay there and take it— take his cum while you reach your own climax.

white dots appear in his vision as satoru releases rope after rope of hot, sticky cum inside of you. his hips are pressed tightly against yours— leaving no chance for his seed to trickle out of you.

the satisfaction that fills satoru’s chest is like no other. a small grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he leans his body weight on top of you slightly, catching his breath. your trembling frame rests beneath him while you’re trying to regain composure as well.

“there y’ go, atta girl,” satoru coos and kisses your forehead. he treats you so well, even after sex. he treats you like you’re his true wife. which you should be.

he rubs your sides with his hands to calm you down. his own breath is still shake as he looks down at you with a grin. a wicked idea pops up in his head once he sees the thick trail of cum that’s left on your slit after he pulls out.

“y’know how i told ya that i’ll make y’ my wife one day?” satoru hums, eyes focused on both your face and cum-covered pussy. he has told you before that he will find a way to officially make you his.

and he finally just realised the perfect way to do it.

“mhm,” you nod with a dazed look in your eyes. you wrap your arms around satoru’s shoulders and hug him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. you can practically feel the smirk on his lips as his breath ghosts over your ear.

his hand travels down to your tummy, fingers splayed over the soft flesh; “good, ‘cause y’re gonna need to play the part for me already. gonna fill you up ‘til you’re nice and swollen with my kids, wifey.”

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place (completed)

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Warnings for: death of a loved one, smut, grief, angst (it gonna be angsty!), Bucky not always being a good guy.

✨ I’m afraid I don’t have a taglist for this series, I don’t use them as I’ve had technical issues with them in the past. Sorry! ✨

Full disclosure I'm not entirely sure where this came from...or where it's going lmao?? But I've wanted to do my own Biker!Bucky for a long time. Planning on this one to be ANGSTY and Bucky and Reader (Sugar) are going to be super stubborn hehehe.

Title comes from my fave Talking Heads song.

Let me know what you think! Always grateful for comments and reblogs.

If you enjoyed this series and would like to buy me a coffee, here's my Ko-Fi link 💐

🏍️

Chapter One - Home is where I want to be

Chapter Two - Feet on the ground

Chapter Three - Head in the clouds

Chapter Four - Pick me up

Chapter Five - I feel numb

Chapter Six - Nothing's wrong

Chapter Seven - Make it up as we go along

Chapter Eight - Born with a weak heart

Chapter Nine - Say goodnight

Chapter Ten - I'm just an animal looking for a home

Chapter Eleven - Cover up the blank spots

Chapter Twelve - I love the passing of time

Chapter Thirteen - I can't tell one from another

Chapter Fourteen - Eyes that light up

Chapter Fifteen - Hit me on the head

Chapter Sixteen - She lifted up her wings

Chapter Seventeen - You got a face with a view

Chapter Eighteen - Did I find you, or you find me?

Chapter Nineteen - This must be the place

[minhosimthings]

Elysian || 18+

Synopsis: you never wanted to fall for the only son of the family yours hated. And yet you did.

Pairings: Mafia boss!Hyunjin × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, mentions of dagger, kind of knife play?, P in v sex, fingering, angst, fluff, forbiddened love, mafia boss au, mention of poison, blood, food and alcohol, reader wears a dress, implied mental abuse, fluffy at the end but it's really angsty in the middle sorry yall

A/N: ahhh this took a lot of time to write because I wanted everything to be PERFECT. and in my opinion this is the best shit I've ever written Mona 2am brain go burr. Also this is dedicated to my beloved @astraystayyh and Hyunjin's photoshoots which have made me go feral approximately 143 times

Red.

You remembered it as a hibiscus, decorating the gardens of your family's estate as child. You remembered it as the ugly hue of your grandmother's rug, the only thing you'd fixate on whenever the stench of blood filled your nose. You remembered it as your family's emblem, in a kingdom of money and roses and whatnot. You remembered red as death.

But you never thought you would have remembered red as the colour which outlined the shadows of the painting in front you.

You never though red would remind you of one of your most favourite persons ever, of his plump pink lips and gorgeous waterfall of hair you would decorate with rose petals anyday.

You never thought red would remind you of Hwang Hyunjin.

Red, as the multifaceted colour it is, fascinated you. It was like an idea in your head, hard to drive out, impossible to kill. What was red truly? What shades did it hide?

Red as a ladybug or red as a lobster? Red as a tulip or red as red as a new bride's cheeks? Red as lipstick or red as a gown? Red as roses or red as blood?

Red as the dominating colour of Hyunjin's palette was the correct answer to you most of the time.

You could recall the first time you had ever met him. Five months ago or had it been a year? You didn't remember much, just the fact that Hwang Hyunjin saved you, the 'enemy' from a bullet wound when he could have let you rot and made his family proud. The Hwangs were nefarious for their merciless behaviour, and yet you found in Hyunjin, a different kind of warmer mercy.

A mercy which you preferred because no one else gave it to you.

And that was how you found comfort in Hyunjin, a sense of familiarity that made you believe that you could be your true self with him and not just another painted version of you. Granted, he did paint you, in various shades of golds, violets and reds.

Painstaking as they were, you loved your short lived secret sessions with him. He was like a thief, quietly sneaking in through a window, and stealing away your heart with his demeanor.

Both of you came from families who despised each other, there was a certain Romeo-Juliet element to it all that both amused and frightened you.

But no matter what thing troubled you, you always had your memories with him to come back to. Especially those soft tender moments when you realised how much you craved a normal life away from the money and the blood.

You remembered one moment better than most others. It was the first time you said the poisonous word. It was that time in Italy...or was it Belgium? All you seemed to actually recall was the time you first walked into the love which Hyunjin gave you.

Dark chocolate eyes flickered over your naked body as it sunk beneath warm water, a bottle of liquid soap shone a bit in the candlelight as Hyunjin poured it into your tub. His ethereal figure was like a God in the pale moonlight coming from the tiny window.

“Just a little something extra to provide you some… relief,” he smiled, dipping his elegant hand into the waters to stir it around.

Hyunjin knew you were an assassin, carefully molded into one by your family, nevertheless he saw more than what he was supposed to. He saw you as a human instead. A human who was tired of all the blood she had spilt.

Your body easing into the water, you barely noticed the ripples of Hyunjin slipping his carved body beside you. It barely registered, his arm wrapping around you, the warm water pouring down your neck to rinse off the blood, the trickles that run down your face as he wets your hair and washed it clean of sweat and more.

You couldn't remember the last time you had felt like this, so relaxed so taken care of. So you said it, you said the word without a moment's waste.

"I love you" you had blurted out without a second thought, "I love you, Hwang Hyunjin." The name mattered to you in ways you hadn't ever fathomed before.

And the worst thing was he said it back. With a kiss to imprint it.

And now here you were, eyes flickering between the ceiling and each other. The warm light of the massive ballroom shone its glory onto you as you clutched your champagne tight to your bosom, making sure to distract yourself with it, whenever your stolen glances at Hyunjin were caught by someone.

You hadn't been forced to attend the ball by any means by your family, in fact you volunteered for it. You had waited eagerly for your target's name, your mother stressed that it was an important one, and as the quietest daughter it would have been easy for you to kill in plain sight and prove once and for all to your father that you were ready to take over as the heir to his 'buisness'. Maybe you'd finally have the fame and the power you craved off as a child, like some starved deer eating its own kind.

But now, you clutched the tiny vile of hemlock close to your hip, carefully dropping it into your pocket, all the while staring at Hyunjin across the room, who was laughing with someone you recognised as a painter Hyunjin adored. His raucous yet polite laughter, gorgeous strands of hair framing his face, your heart sobbed at the thought of slipping poison into his veins.

If you had even a modicum of respect for your own head, maybe you would have sneaked the hemlock into his drink at the slightest moment. Unfortunately though, you didn't and so it came to be that you resorted to dissecting a serene painting until hopefully Hyunjin ultimately noticed you.

The painting fascinated you, it was one you hadn't ever seen before. Dark blue traced the outlines two people, with grey hair and wisened foreheads, holding hands through a rough brown canvas. You smiled at the painting before taking a sip of your champagne. Love, eternally, was one of Hyunjin's most beloved topics to waste all his blue paint on.

Words rushed through your mind as your eyes traced each brushstroke. Whips of harsh sentences and scenes of conversations, contrasting the soft daubs of paint, flashed in front of your eyes.

'The Parks? Mum I can't do that!'

'You want to be useful to this family? Marry him and you'll be more than useful'

'But Mum...!'

'You think you have a say in this? Shut up and do what's good for that useless head of yours'

"Admiring my work, my love?"

You flinched slightly at the different voice, which sounded like spring rain and lily pads. Spinning on your heel to face the source of the voice, you found yourself melting into a pair of beautiful eyes, the kind of eyes that made thieves wonder why they ever bothered to steal pieces of art. His eyes—the color of an intoxicating champagne—beckoned you over with nothing more than a warm smile.

"What?" Hyunjin chuckled, seeing you stare at him, "Did I get fondue on my lips again?"

"No, just..." You trailed off, not finding the correct words, "You look good."

"As you do, my sweet." Hyunjin's hand took yours and brought it up to his lips, "God, I wish I could paint you right here."

"Hyunjin," you gave him a playful look, unsure of whether or not it was hiding your fright, what if someone saw?

Hyunjin's arms went to your waist, pulling you closer to him, which felt like syrup wafting through the air, sweet with a touch of familiarity. He leaned in, you felt his hot breath on your neck as he whispered, "None of your family or their spies are here don't worry."

You took in a shaky breath, as you felt his long, dainty fingers reaching up your thigh, fiddling with something strapped tightly to it. Hyunjin smiled into your neck, as he continued to fiddle with the leather.

"That's how they plan to kill me?" He chuckled, "With a dagger strapped to the ravishing thigh of the love of my life?"

"That's just Plan B." You whispered, shoving his hand off gently, as your eye caught a waiter in the corner glancing at you and Hyunjin, "Just in case the hemlock doesn't work."

"Willing to test that theory?" Hyunjin stepped away from you, leaving your body colder than you wished. His cocky smile, his raised brow and relaxed demeanour, he was like a like a cat lounging in a garden, at peace with watching the world pass on.

"In front of everyone?" You questioned, "don't tell me the only son of the Hwangs is becoming soft for someone like me."

Hyunjin's mouth stretched lazily as he grinned at you, extending a hand for you to take.

"Let's go somewhere private?" He asked, not giving you time to answer as he basically dragged you across the hall, where magnificent stairs led to the upper floors of the luxurious mansion. Gossiping eyes followed your movements, well, more precisely, Hyunjin's movements, as he led you up the stairs, making sure not to step on your tartine dress, as you carried the fabric behind you with regal grace.

"Now," Hyunjin smirked as you climbed onto the last step, now well hidden from the party downstairs, "Shall we?" And he broke into a run, dragging you behind him, giggling maniacally like a child in the summer. You were sure you heard your dress rip, but you had not a care as you ran with Hyunjin down the corridor, to the last door, his bedroom. The walls of the corridors were lined with paintings, Hyunjin's evidently, fading edges of canvases standing out against the ruby of the wall paint and the carpeted floor. You recognised each and every painting. A painting of a woman amongst daffodils, another of the same woman in an abandoned mansion which Hyunjin had always told you would be that women's one day. The day he married that woman to be specific.

'The woman in my dreams', Hyunjin told his family when they asked him who she was. 'The woman in my dreams', Hyunjin told his patrons when they asked who she was. 'You', Hyunjin told you when you asked, though you knew, but you still questioned him, in between chaste kisses on the neck and giggles. Hyunjin came to a halt in front of the oak carved door, a tiny metal label on top spelling his name in cursive letters.

"How about we put that dagger to use then?" Hyunjin pressed your back against the door in no time, devouring your being as he tasted the honey of your elysian lips. His hands went again, to your thigh, fumbling to take the dagger out, but you were quicker in your actions. Your hand had been resting on the door's handle, and as you tugged on it, both of you fell back into the room, lips never wanting to leave each other's company.

"Jinnie," you made a sound of pleasure as you pulled away from him, suddenly aware of the audible music coming from downstairs, "Maybe not now."

"Come now love," Hyunjin laughed, striding into the room, where painting supplies lay cluttered next to a pristinely made bed, "Don't say that after we escaped from the prying eyes of everyone downstairs."

"Hyunjin," you looked at him with reprimanding eyes, how could you tell him the actual reason? "Don't you think it'd be suspicious to my family if I return today with messed up hair and a torn silken dress after merely slipping poison into someone's champagne?" How could you tell him to make you stop falling more for him? "This shit is expensive you know."

"Would it not be more dangerous if you were to return without killing the Hwang family's brightest hope?" Hyunjin's voice, though low, spoke it's volume, as he removed his coat, throwing it onto an empty chair.

Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward Hyunjin, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around his hair, a palpable tension filled the space between you.

His ethereal eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting. 

Without even a moment of hesitation, you kissed him.

Hyunjin's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of his soft hair, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer.

He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.

"so pretty..." he mutters, taking in the sight of your body.

Hyunjin's lips attach to your skin, leaving deep marks of love all over which wouldn't go away for days now. You stifled your moan, as his lips sucked on your collarbone, you could feel his erection pressing through his pants to your core, making you accidentally whimper.

Hyunjin's ringed hands made their way up your right thigh, the slit in your dress allowing him to caress the soft skin, the cold metal of the ruby created dagger hitting his skin like soft cotton to a wound.

He couldn't explain how attractive it was to him, the carved golden hilt, the blood red jewel in the centre, and the carefully shaped blade of the dagger, decorating his most favourite muse. You were a painting come to life for him.

You were his painting, his magnum opus, a canvas as precious as an angel's wing.

Your mind, on the other hand, was racing at a hundred miles per the hour. How could you tell him? How could you tell him the truth he'd always known? That your love was one the stars crossed each other to find?

You draw him into another uncertain kiss, this one your confused mind didn't think much about, and trailed a hand up the smooth skin of his exposed chest. Hyunjin signs into your mouth and runs both his hands down your sides, pausing to squeeze your thigh, and the cold blade pressed against your skin again.

“My love, that was by far one of the most sexy things I’ve ever seen.” Voice low and seductive, your lips barely pulling away from him. "I really can't believe you chose this one out of all. You know it's my gift don't you?"

"Hyunjin..." You trailed off, impatiently pulling away from his lips, "we shouldn't, we really shouldn't."

"Why not love?" Hyunjin's lips pressed against yours again morphing into a gentler kiss, he was evidently trying to calm you down.

"Hyunjin please don't." You begged with him, as if you were begging for your mind to stop itself before you went too far. You had to stop falling for him before it was too late. And yet how could you?

"Princess-" Hyunjin began before looking at you with worried eyes, "You're scaring me what's wrong? You can talk to me."

"What's wrong is we shouldn't be doing this." You tried to feign disgust, but all that came out was pathetic love for Hyunjin, 'Don't let me fall in love again' was what you had meant to say.

"Princess—"

"No!" You all as but screamed, forgetting that you were currently above a party filled with guns and roses, Hyunjin stood shocked in front of you at your sudden outburst, the air around you stilled, as words came out like vomit.

"listen, I am to get married to the Park family's eldest son, and if anyone, anyone, finds out about this," you stopped and took in a breath, "we're dead, Hyunjin, both of us! Or worse shit I can't even fathom to think about!" You took a breath at every word, stressing each note like a violin's vibrato, "And I'd really fucking take this poison myself rather than living in a world where everything tries to stop us from being together. So, please Hyunjin," your eyes held whispers of pained love, "Don't let me fall into this depth of love, because I just know I can never climb out."

The silence that overtook the room was heavy, heavier than you would have liked. You could have endured bullet heads, burn marks, fractures, but this was the greatest wound of all. The greatest pain you'd endured was the one you had always been deprived of.

Love, had it always been such a sin?

Your head felt dizzy as you say down on the bed, letting the soft material of the cover sink in. The dagger round your thigh and the air round your being felt tighter. You felt as if you could have drawn oceans of blood at that moment.

"Love," his voice echoed through your entire being, "look at me.

Your head turned to look up at him, as his hands quickly straddled you onto his lap, one of them squeezing your right thigh, eliciting a quiet moan out of you.

You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The ethereal, devilish angel, Hwang Hyunjin had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.

"Hyunjin I-"

"I don't care what or who comes in our way. You, my dearest, are mine, and mine alone." Hyunjin growled into your ear, his anger would never seep through to you but on certain occasions it would certainly scare you, the way his anger was cold as an icicle, rather than fiery like a volcano.

A groan rumbles through Hyunjin's chest, and he dips down to give a playful bite to your bottom lip, earning a squeak you will deny if asked about later.

One of his hands moves down to delicately play with your breast, kneading softly before pinching your nipple between his finger and thumb. You break the kiss with a breathless gasp, tugging at Hyunjin’s roots, forcing a ragged groan from him. Hyunjin wastes no time to pepper kisses down the column of your neck. He pushed the hair out of his eyes before he grabbed you by the waist and rubbed his cock up against you. He could feel heat settle in his body as his cock throbbed for you. He wanted you, he needed you more than he needed air. And he was more than willing to let you know that.

Stripping off your clothes and throwing it to the side, Hyunjin climbed up the bed and grabbed your hand on the way, hauling you under him. He wasted no time in lining himself up with you, throwing his head back in a groan as your pussy enveloped him.

Hyunjin groaned through grit teeth as he pushed his cock into you. You tensed and he groaned louder, he held onto the bed under you and moved all the way inside of you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tightly as he started to thrust. You moaned into his skin as he moved against you.

His mouth went to your neck, leaving dark scars there. His teeth hit the ruby of your necklace, as he took it in his mouth and tugged at it, making you gasp loudly.

Your body felt numb but in a pleasurable way. You could only lie there and accept all the pleasure that he was giving you. He kissed your soft face, he could feel your racing heartbeat under your skin. His face went back to your neck where he left more bruises on the flesh. He felt heat through his body as the pleasure coursed through his veins. It was arousing, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling.

"You're mine." Hyunjin growled through a symphony of soft sighs, "I will never let anything get in between us, alright?"

The only response he got was a pleasured moan escaping from your lips, but he took it. He took pride in the way he could make you feel like this.

Your head fills with pleasures, not a single thought could form in your head. “Fuck you feel so good doll” he groans holding your hips down and slamming deeper inside you. “G-god Hyunjin! Feels…s-so good!” You cry.

Your eyes begin to roll back feeling how good he felt. His tip hitting your G-spot making you ready to cum just as fast as before. “H-Hyune fuck I’m gonna c-“ you are interrupted by his hand gripping your throat, choking you.

“Fuck baby you got wetter just from that… god you're so good” his mixture of degradation and praise had your body a dripping, desperate mess. You couldn’t believe the hold he had over you.

His breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. His tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”

“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the bed with the sheer snap of his hips. Your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.

He felt you trembling hard, pulsing around his cock as you got close to cumming. He works himself deeper inside you, stroking all the places you need to reach that high point. A few more thrusts and you burst. You gush around him with a long whine.

You squirm and buck as he holds you in place and keeps rutting into you until it becomes too much for him. He also lets loose and shoots his cum inside you. He fucks it into you a bit, before slowly pulling out.

Slightly panting and out of breath, Hyunjin's figure could be seen gracefully outlined by the moon's tears penetrating through the tall, stained windows. He gets up and fetches a towel, gently cleaning you up as your eyes flickered between sleep and consciousness.

"Are you alright, love?" He questioned you, his fingers tracing shapes on your hips as he layed down beside you again, clearly not in the mood for wearing his clothes. Neither were you, so you turned your body towards him, allowing him to wrap you into the cocoon of his warm muscles. Laying your head on his chest, you felt his hand, once again, reaching for your thigh.

"You really do like that dagger don't you?" You laughed, as he caressed the metal.

"You should wear it more often, maybe for a painting?" Hyunjin's suggested, a smile like the air after rain, fresh with the stench of earth and dew, imprinted on his face.

"Hyunjin I-", you began, taking a breath before continuing, "What about—about my family?"

You swore you could have heard Hyunjin gently scoff, but you ignored it as he brought you closer to him, the space in between you practically empty.

"Stay here for tonight." Hyunjin said, "and if they come in search of their 'beloved' daughter," he scoffed once again, muttering a curse underneath his breath, "I'll tell them I stole her away from her tower."

"More like stole her dagger away." You giggled, finding his obsession with the strap on your thigh amusing. Hyunjin merely smiled at that, and silence fell again.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

Red wasn't that bad of a colour after all. Not when it reminded you of Hyunjin, not when it reminded you of secret kisses and poisoned paintings, and certainly not when it reminded you of love.

"I love you too, Hyunjin."

[autisticempathydaemon]

Hello... again! Are you hyperfixated on RedactedAudio?

Do you want (need) to know who to follow to cultivate your dashboard and feed your gremlin brain good, good boyfriend roleplay content and my first recommendation post of magnificent fan-artists and fan-writers wasn't enough dopamine for you?

Cool, I’ve got you, and I’ve got even more hyperlinks. Buckle up.

(Note: This is by no means a comprehensive, objective, or complete list, as I have biases and favorites and limited time. If you feel I've missed someone, please feel free to reblog with your additions! I just would have loved a guide like this when I got into the fandom back in August 2022 and wanted to spread some positivity~!)

Fanfiction:

@agentplutonium: they/them

Pluto is just one of the many gorgeous people who've migrated to Tumblr now that Twitter is, ya know, on fire. I've been following them on Tiktok for ages, and I'm so pleased they joined us on tumblr now! Highlights: "Constant" and "Inconvenience" mean the world to me, because there are just not enough aspec headcanons in the fandom, we could always have more.

@angelicaether: they/them

Aether is a fucking gem unto this fandom- not only do they run Sky Side, a friendly, closeknit (hehe) server for 21+ Redacted fans but they also were who we have to thank for Redacted Kinktober 2023, bless them~ Highlights: New Job Posting is magnificent if you’re in the mood for some David/Angel smut today and this cute couple crossover fic if you’re feeling more SFW!

@caelumsnuff: they/them

Phoenix is magnificent, creative, and endlessly sweet. I also respect the hell out of anyone that can take the anon hate that they get with as much grace and attitude as they do /gen /pos Highlights: I love this gift for the Quinn-fuckers they wrote, I do, but I have to admit I'm partial to the Imperium!Vincent/Imperium!Asher piece they did, because their tension and hatred was just too palpable to deny, I needed it.

@empydoc: any pronouns

Empy's Soul Eater AU has not only taken over my life but has also got me deeply wanted a Soul Eater rewatch. God forbid xe succeed because this post has already been delayed enough /j Highlights: I love the Marcus/Asset post, because that's my favorite pairing but also because Asset as both an android and a weapon is so, so interesting. Blake/Bestie's is also a particular gem, because being a meister just gives him a new dimension to his manipulation and I love it.

@floofdeloop: she/her

Not only is Floof a beloved fic writer but she's also one of the adored DJs of the fandom. Are you really a fan if you haven't looked up Redacted on Spotify and saved all her playlists? /j Highlights: Her whole playlist page is literally so good, but I love the cute, domestic vibes of this Geordi one or the tragic, angsty, Britrock vibes of this Porter playlist~!

@joshusten: they/them

Sten is one of if not the writer that comes to mind when you're looking for amazing Guy/Honey content! Highlights: Bitter Melon is my personal favorite of their work; what can I say? I'm a sucker for a little jealousy in my fics. You also can't miss Honeysuckle, their most recent piece which gets into Guy's canonically less-than-pure mind~

@pinksparkl: she/her

Gosh, where would we be without her? Pink never has a bad word or thought for anyone and just persists in being a delightful, sweet presence in the fandom. Highlight: I can't decide what I'm more obsessed with- their Adam-centric fic exploring the Progeny/Maker bond or their nsfw Gavin-centric with his tail exploring Freelancer nudge nudge wink wink

@redlikeredacted: they/them

Just as their blog says, they are the CEO of Dasher. In my head, they are the president of both the David/Asher and the Autistic!David fan clubs, and I'd vote for them a second and third term okay I love Red Highlights: Their "David bottoming for the first time" fic is everything to me okay I am here for nothing but this except maybe this Milo fic where he gets Aggro~

@teafairywithabook: she/they

A lovely writer, voice actor, and person, Cheri does it all! With a whole 34 Redacted works on AO3, they are a must-follow. Highlights: I'll provide the masterlist of previously mentioned works, but I must recommend her nsfw Avior/Starlight fic keeping us sated until we finally get an Avior BA and their fic of Alexis's POV of Sam's turning I couldn't not okay I'm just a person I have biases

@tepid-judas: he/they/it

My favorite Adam stan, my friend, and the person who converted me into an Adam/Brighteyes shipper, I thank Judas every day for that. Highlights: I love their series of epistolary fics, because who doesn’t love a good letter, but I would be remiss if I didn’t rec his DAMN polycule plus Xavier fic cause fuck canon let's add frosty the snowman to the orgy /lh

@themonotonysyndrome: she/her

Lady, my dearest friend and greatest foe~ How else do I describe the gorgeous, sociable, friendly person who bought Alexis/Christian into the world and ruined my life? (affectionate) Highlights: Let these two assholes in love take you on a ride, fall in love with them too. If that's not your vibe, I cannot recommend enough her insane, gen z Bright Eyes being an absolute fucking terror /pos

Fanart:

@androgynouspenguinexpert

Can YOU believe Penguin's only been posting art since, like, December? I certainly can't, because it's like they've drawn every boy at this point and each is as smoochable and adorable as the last. Highlights: Their Porter is one of my favorites; what can I say? Who can resist this high ponytail and cape combo? I also love their Hush, cause look at him~! He's adorable! Penguin gives all these boys such luscious, floofable hair; I love them!

@cute-brainz: she/they/it

Kindly, lovingly, respectfully, Cute's listeners designs reduce me to a sniveling, simpering puddle of a simp. I become nothing but a humble, simple straight man, and none of you came blame me good god their listeners are hotter than all the redacted men- Highlights: Like, look at their Lovely: the hair, the singlet, the VIBES? Fuckin irresistible; like Vincent, I'd give them anything their heart desires. And their ANGEL? The MINUTE David Shaw fumbles that bag, I'm on my knees with a ring hello earth angel will you be mine

@darling-solaire

Darl has been posting art for only a month and a half at the writing of the post, and yet I feel like I've loved their Solaires for forever. They, as a unit, are hot and tragic as fuck, and I love them. Highlights: I am obsessed, particularly, with the Solaire family portraits, but maybe that's because my girl Alexis is up there, and I love her. There's also this bust compilation of more Redacted boys in case you didn't find your favorite in the Solaires~!

@free-boundsoul: she/her

Okay so, like, vibe with me did you ever love Lisa Frank products with the bright, saturated colors and sparkling eyes but wish instead of cuddly animals that there were really hot men? Then Savvie is the artist for you~ Highlights: One, it's fun to see a Regulus that's not blue, okay? It's thinkin outside the box. Two, the CRACKS? WITH THE GOLD PEEKING THROUGH? I'm inconsolable my god. Speaking of daemons, Fool!Gavin is sort of everything to me. He's just really rocking that sweater vest!

@hotmcrodz: he/they

I know for a fact that I'm not the only one obsessed with the way Jai draws human anatomy. I have unironically seen a Jai piece in the tag and gone "WOWZA" like I'm Jim Carrey in The Mask; that's what they do to me. Highlights: This Milo was one of the pieces that made my eyes pop out my head like a cartoon wolf; I think it's the shirtlessness plus the muscle pose. I just couldn't handle it. I also reacted like that to their Babe because I am an equal opportunity pervert /hj

@izzuku: he/they

Izzuku designs characters with the most realistic and gorgeous body types; like, I love the soft jawlines and how warm and touchable they draw skin. Every Izzuku design is kissable as hell. Highlights: I have to recommend his Regulus and Hush designs, obviously, they're my favorite men. However, I can't let the world go by another rotation without recommending this special Halloween version of Vincent~!

@kilarthmac: she/they

In case we needed another reason to love and appreciate the iconic timestamping account we all recognize from the Redacted comments, we cannot neglect their fanart! Highlights: Like, look at this brought-back-wrong Vega! This Hush with his cute face and off-putting air! He's so cute and so weird! I also love this piece they've done for one of my favorite rarepairs, Imperium!Lasko/Adam~

@latenightsleeper: he/they/it/she

My kinfolk and my beloved, one of the few people who understand me and the vision that is beautiful, blonde, dumb and lovable Christian. They will give you so many feelings about Darlin and Christian, and they will cause you agony /pos Highlights: Obviously, I'm obsessed with the Tank/Christian art like this one (Christian is just so cuuute), but we're all obsessed with this Sam/Darlin animatic set to Eat Your Young.

@maxpaulll

An amazing artist that I'm so glad we managed to get to migrate to Tumblr from Twitter so I could put them on this list~ Highlights: I am obsessed always with their Indigenous character designs, especially David. Like, look at him, he's indescribably beautiful, outshone by no one except maybe Max's Imp!Vega, because oh my god look at him~

@nortyourself: she/her

I don't think there's anyone who's not obsessed with at least one of Rachel's pieces; like, I believe she'll get to every Redacted man with the speed and beauty she works. Even Reticuli has gotten the Rachel treatment and been made hot af. Highlights: Technically, this Imperium!Damien just takes me breath away; like, it would be blown up and framed in his palace (for all of his short and tempestuous reign). Personally, her Hush has a dear and special place in my heart. He's just my favorite~!

@penncilkid: any pronouns

One of the most gorgeous and darling and non-stop creators in the space! They're a true triple threat, kicking our hearts in the butt with their art, their writing, and their audio roleplay series~ Highlights: With so many mediums under their belt, it's so hard to choose. If you're looking for purely Redacted content, their art is prolific and so creative, I've got to share the whole gallery. If you're in the market for a new VA to fall in love with, you've got to check out their youtube channel~!

@pycth: any pronouns

I dont have anything creative or profound to say here- all of pycth's designs are smoking hot and would render me selectively mute with a glance, 'nuff said. Highlights: How can I PICK? Ugh, hottest of the hot that comes to mind has got to be their President Moore art; like, this pose isn't FAIR. On the other end of the spectrum, if you want your heart kicked in the butt, I don't think any of us are over this Sam piece or ever will be.

@rainingcatsandjune: any pronouns

Another new artist who's only been here since April, and yet- I would die for his and his fine-ass, touchable Sam. Like, hell, render any man pretty like that, and I'll die for him. That's how pretty this art is. Highlights: Like, look at him. How does one do anything but look at him, especially in this pose? Again, look at him! Look at the hands. The soft, touchable glow and how it lights and shades his and Darlin's skin. The broad shoulders good god~

@sainthowlzon: they/he

You can't turn a corner on tumblr without seeing some of Howl's adorable Scribble Dolls or Icons! (Or any other social media actually. I feel like I've deffo seem some of Howl's icons on Tiktok too.) They're cute, they're iconic, and there's one for almost everyone! Highlights: Here's that full set of icons for your perusal; my personal favorite is Asset's. And here's the full set of Redacted Scribble Dolls; my favorite is Regulus, I think, because of his freaky vibes, but it's so hard to pick!

@sincerelywhistler: any pronouns

Like everyone with a working set of eyes and a beating heart, I am obsessed with all of Wes's designs; like, who wouldn't fall in love at first sight with all those beautiful and often shirtless people? Highlights: There's honestly too many to pick from, but I'll TRY. Their Gavin is an absolute must, I share it with the Discord on sight, he's that it girl if you will. Oh, and one cannot neglect Avior's HBS piece; I'm not even an Avior girlie, and I was like daaaaaamnnnnnnn~

@slushiepizza: they/them

Where would all the guy-lovers be without Slushie and their absolute cornucopia of Guy and Honey delights? Like, where else would we get our homemade, MacGyver'd serotonin? Highlights: The "Everyday" series is everything to me, and I mean everything; Guy has become too relatable and has struck me right in the heart. If you're not in a Guy mood, I'm also in love with their older, cozy Anton~!

@s0lairee: she/they

Jo's style is just so clean, so cute, and I really love it when they play with lighting in their pieces. Like, we are almost, almost there to making me stan Vincent if you're gonna drape him in moonlight like that... Highlights: ...thought, if I had to pick, I'd probably lean more towards Vincent's partner. They're rocking the red eyes, I love them! I'm also obsessed with their freckle-y, sweet Lasko, because who isn't?

@strawberrybouvine: he/they

The artistic equivalent of gourmet candy, I am absolutely obsessed with the gorgeous colors of Jasper's art and cannot get enough of the sweetness! Is this sugar running through my veins or unparalleled cuteness? Highlights: I'm not even a David stan but, like, jesus christ, the long hair and hairy chest makes me want to go feral. Don't even get me started on the cuteness of his chibi art, I really will start foaming at the mouth.

@theflowersaremine

I don't know exactly what medium Haylin uses or what colors or effects they use, but goddamn it makes those men so dreamy. I'm not even a Sam stan, but that's a smoochable man right out of Gilmore Girls /pos Highlights: Like, are you seeing the Gilmore Girls vision? That's a handsome man from a wholesome show geared for women- almost as handsome as this art of David. I see this smile in my dreams; it's so beautiful.

@venuslove-28: any pronouns

Venus's art is strawberry and vanilla soft serve injected straight into my heart; it's so familiar and cute, so charming, and I want to stim and bounce in excitement when I see it. Does that make sense? It'll make sense when you see it. Highlights: Personally, I have never and I will never stop thinking about this Huxley, I am simply not capable. Their Avior is also cuter than all get-out, I must admit.

@wingless-cupid

I don't think anyone does cute and colorful and pastel and kawaii quite like Cupid. You can't help but look and admire all the eye-catching colors and then want to hug their cheery, dynamic characters! Highlights: I'm highkey obsessed with their Freelancer and DAMNily and all their d(a)emons in general. Like, look at this! Minh is such a cutie and a simp, I love them! I'm also constantly thinking about this art in particular, because look at all these PRICELESS EXPRESSIONS!

@yoteako: he/it

Would you like stunning, high quality art and tragic, old man yaoi on your dash? That's a silly question; of course you do which is why we're going to follow and love on Yote. Highlights: See how beautiful, doomed, and intimate this multi-page comic is about two characters who've never canonically spoken? That's devotion. On the less forsaken side of the narrative, their Gavin/Lasko ship art is embedded into my heart.

If you’re reading all the way here, I hope you found the post helpful and smiled while making your way through it! Or both! The RedactedAudio fandom is truly one of my favorite spaces on the internet; it’s so intimate and creative, and I’ve found some amazing, perfect friends here, so I hope you will too 💖

[thecapricunt1616]

Kinktober Day 9 🎃

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 (𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭): He continued to rut his hips in and out of your mouth, grunting hotly “god sound so fuckin-“ he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you down further so you’d gag and choke around him “so fuckin hot chokin’ on me like that baby” you pulled off, coughing into your arm and wiping your face 

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Eeeee! It's day 9/31 of kinktober! I am queuing this in the drafts on 10/3 & I feel like i'm so behind! Aaaa! Trust and believe that I am writing as quick as I can though! Cooking up more fluffy smutty angsty goodness for the rest of the month! I hope you enjoy todays rendition of kinktober 2024 with our beloved short king Lip! :D BTW If you'd like to see my schedule/masterlist for this celebration click right 🎃here🎃; & if you'd like to also check out my masterlist for Promptober 2024 click right 🦇here🦇. & If you'd like to be added to the taglist for either celebration, comment on the according masterlist & I will add you! 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.0k+ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Dirty talk, smut, M-oral (receiving), a little bit of degradation, pet names, no use of y/n! 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬: @/𝘀𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗸𝗮-𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗰𝘀 & @/𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗰𝘀

“Look a’you mmm? Such a pretty thing with a mouth full’a dick” Lip purrs, scooping his thumb around your swollen slick bottom lip that was wrapped around his shaft, collecting a glob of saliva and sucking it off his thumb sensually. 

He continued to rut his hips in and out of your mouth, grunting hotly “god sound so fuckin-“ he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you down further so you’d gag and choke around him “so fuckin hot chokin’ on me like that baby” you pulled off, coughing into your arm and wiping your face 

“Y’bein’ mean now” you smirked a bit, knowing damn well that you both enjoyed when Lip got a little mean with you. 

“Awwww and when did you turn into such a little fuckin baby? Cut the act you love when I fuck you like a whore. Hands and knees” he ordered and you quickly got up, getting on your hands and knees on the springy mattress covered in navy jersey sheets. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it why assume that?” You arched your back pretty for him, looking back with your cheek smushed to the mattress. He smirked, his hand coming down on your ass hard causing you to yelp in pain, which he soothed a bit by roughly grabbing your cheek and rubbing the flesh before spreading you open. 

“Oh you fuckin like it” he spit on your already dripping hole, enjoying the way it ran over your folds and clit, causing you to clench around nothing. “Soooo fuckin eager f’my cock mmm?” He lined himself up, thrusting in until your hips smashed together. 

You buried your face in the mattress as it contorted in pleasure, crying out as he roughly grabbed your hips, using them as handles to fuck you back on his thick length. He grunted hotly, head falling back as he picked up his pace. 

“Jeeeesus fuckin Christ baby take my cock like you were made for it” he breathes, fucking into you harder and you laid there nearly drooling onto his sheets, getting fucked absolutely brainless. 

“God fuckin look a’me. Look a’me while I fuckin wreck this pussy” he let go of one of your hips to pull your hair into a ponytail in the grip of his fist, pulling you into a deeper arch so he could better see your face. 

Your eyes were squeezed shut in bliss, jaw slack as you mewled and whine with each smack of his hips against the fat of your ass. Brows furrowed, panting so hard your tongue nearly fell out of your mouth like a puppy. You couldn’t even feel them, but there were streaks of tears running down your cheeks that Lip began licking away. 

“F-I fucking love you” you manage out and he huffs a laugh against your cheek while his tongue laps a tear up to your cheekbone. 

“Who d’you belong to, who fuckin owns you?” He breathed against your temple, thrusting more upwards so with each stroke he would be rutting against your gspot. You sobbed in pleasure, back arching more into him and hips beginning to shiver. A whiny cry left your throat when the hand with a bruising grip on your hip momentarily released to spank your other cheek in a way that the harsh slap bounced off the walls. 

“You lip-fuck, lip-Lip Gallagher fucking owns me” you sobbed, and he grunts hotly, letting go of your hair to resume the hold on your other hip and you practically melt into the bed, ass up face down. 

“Fuck- say that shit again- say it baby” he bit his lip roughly, his hands sliding up the curve your waist and squeezing it greedily. 

“Lip fucking Gallagher owns me” you said louder and he moans, sliding his hands under you to cup your breasts. He squeezes them, tugging at your nipples and rolling them between his fingers causing you to clench around him in a way that made his abs flex. 

“Jesus fucking Christ” he pulls you up so your back was flush to his chest, continuing to thumb at your nipples as he thrusts up “I own-this-fuckin-pussy“ he accentuates each word with a deep thrust. “I want everyone to fuckin know it baby, I want you to scream let everyone know how good I fuck this pussy mmm? How good I take care of my pretty things” he purrs in your ear, his right hand coming up and wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough to cut off a bit of blood but not your supply of air. 

“I’m-mmmh I’m f-fucking cumming” you stutter out, feeling that red hot coil settled in your pelvis about to snap. He groans in excitement, other hand sliding down your stomach, finding your throbbing nub and rubbing in tight firm circles, the action causing you to choke out a cry. 

“W’as that pretty girl? C’mon- louder, I want everyone to know” he said in your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Lip- fuck- fuck lip!” You cried, heat clenching and releasing around his cock in a way that made him bite harder on his bottom lip to keep from cumming. 

“Say it- cmon fuckin say it” he grunted, thrusting harder. 

“I’m fucking cumming!” You shout, as much as you could with his hand still around your throat. Your head fell back on his shoulder as your hips quiver, fucking you through it and moaning into your hair when he felt you gush around him, dripping down over his balls. 

“God I fuckin love when I get you to fuckin cream all over me, shiiit im getting close-“ he pants, pushing you down on the bed and holding a wrist pinned behind your back as he drills you into the mattress. With each thrust, the headboard taps more like slams into the wall and the mattress squeaks under your weight. 

“Who else fucks you like this? Mmm? Tell me baby who else can slut you out like this?” He asked cockily, knowing the answer already but loving to have his ego stroked, especially by you. 

“No one- no one daddy, only you” you cry into the mattress, gasping in pleasure when you feel his warmth fill your deepest parts. 

“Tha’s right. Fuckin own you, my fuckin girl”. 

Fin

Tag List: @carmenberzattosgf - @daysofyellowroses - @mouseymilkovich - @galactiicpup - @gallaghersgal - @maggiesarchives - @carmybrainworms - @l4long-winded - @babyspiderling - @southsideserendipity - @djlnkaled

[toodelusionalforreality]

Absolution

Azriel x Reader(N)

Summary: Two lovers separated out of necessity finally reunite, only for a brief tryst.

A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. It's an extended universe for a plot I was working with details tbd but doesn't involve much plot here. So it should be an easy read. This is my first ever Tumblr publish and it's scary!! So be kind. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: ~4.5k

Warning: NSFW, 18+ SMUT, f!receiving, m!receiving(barely), sappy start+spicy middle+angsty end (i guess), voice kink, p in v. Mentions of OC other than reader[not enough editing/proofreading/formatting]

Azriel stepped into the room desperately holding on to the moment, afraid Crone Mother would change her mind. N sat on the balcony—like every evening, on the floor, her legs crossed, her hands clasped in her lap. The curtains came alive with the touch of a gentle breeze to guard her from him. Her sheer dress melded with her body under the radiance of the fading sun, her skin aglow as if made of stars and gold. Summer flowers adorned her hair, tucked into the braid that unravelled after the day’s practices.

His shadows peeked over his shoulders and swarmed his hands buzzing with excitement. With each silent step, he prayed he didn’t break her trance. He settled before her—bringing his knees to his chest, he rested his elbows on them, and his wings tucked tight to his body.

The hue of the setting sun made everything heavenly about her—soft, ethereal. Wisps of hair teasing her cheeks, the knowing smile on her lips, the slight flutter of her eyelids under his stare. A sigh escaped Azriel’s lips. It was a worthless attempt to hide his presence from her, the one who held the sight. 

Azriel wasn’t a fool to waste the mercy bestowed upon him after months of longing to be close to his beloved. He stretched on the floor, his head finding its rightful place in her lap, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her scent and warmth made their bond burn brighter and he sighed in contentment.

After long minutes, N rested her palm on his head. Her fingers carded through his hair, and her nails scratched his scalp the way he liked. A thumb teased the shell of his ear and his wings responded with a sudden tremor.

Azriel smiled. He buried his face into her thigh. Air shifted around them as her body answered to his touches and breaths. Despite the need clawing in his chest, he chose to wait a few minutes, to savour the comfort of her simple touch.

N broke the silence. ‘How was your day?’ Her voice was as sweet as ever.

‘Long. Excruciatingly long,’ sighed Azriel. ‘I started with your friends from the armoury today. Until your mother sent me to the gardens.’ He remembered the smile on the older woman’s face when she took him away from the others. A secretive, mischievous one. ‘She enjoys testing me a bit much. She made me tend to your roses.’

N laughed, the sound sending a shiver through him. ‘That must have been a vision. Maybe she’s exacting revenge for how you treated her back home.’

Azriel’s heart thudded in his chest. Home. No matter what Crone Mother said, N had one home. It was with him, in Night Court. ‘I think she’s forgotten all that. She’s more interested in stealing you from me.’ His arms tightened around her and his shadows whirled around them emphasising their master’s possessiveness, ‘But I don’t mind. As long as she lets me be with you for a while.’ His lips twitched. ‘Did you know everyone here addresses me as your mate?’

Another laugh broke through her lips, ‘They're not wrong.’

‘No, they are not.’ Azriel finally looked up. Her eyes were already on his face. ‘I’ve been called many names over centuries. Shadowsinger. Spymaster. But this one,’ he leaned up to her face, ‘I like the most. To be known as yours before they even know my name.’ He got to his knees and trailed a knuckle along her jaw. ‘I’d like that for the rest of my life.’ Their bond strummed a tune so loud that rendered him senseless. ‘I want to have a life with you. A home, a family. Anything you want, any way you want. As long as you want that too.’

‘You mean that.’ N stated as if she needed to reassure herself. She stared at him with a mask of impassivity on her face that almost rivalled his own as a spy. Then, she smiled. ‘But I’ll have you know there will be more tests from Crone Mother.’

'I’ll suffer anything for you,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘So that’s a yes?’ N nodded before her eyes sparkled with mirth. ‘What is it?’ His senses warned him, his shadows stood alert on his shoulders. 

‘Well, technically, we’re married.’

Silence fell between them. Azriel’s fingers left her skin.

‘What?’

N shrugged. ‘Do you remember the first time we duelled?’ Her voice was steady but her hesitance broke through at the sight of the male who sat frozen in front of her. ‘You made me bleed. You proved you were my equal. And, it all happened after the bond snapped for you.’

Azriel remembered that day. He had wanted to impress her. It was the day he felt the warmth of her breath on him for the first time. For days and nights to come, he relived those moments until his skin prickled with heat.

N’s unsure laughter died soon when he didn’t even blink. His shadows retreated. His end of their bond quietened, alarming her. 

Finally, he said, ‘All this time you were my wife?’

Her breath stuck to her throat. ‘According to our custom, yes.’

‘And you kept that a secret.’ His wings flared behind him to their full glory and his eyes narrowed. ‘What did we discuss about your secrets?’

N leaned back, ‘Was I supposed to tell you all this when I had your blade to your throat? I’m not sure you’d have been open to that conversation.’ Her voice reeked of confidence but Azriel saw the facade waning in her darkening eyes.

Memories flitted through his mind—visions of her from the instant he laid his eyes on her to the present. Every misfortune they endured, every second they spent in love, every. . . 

He stalked her on his knees, his hands on either side of her. He hissed, ‘You slept with those males after that.’ A sound escaped his throat, a rumble deep from his chest. ‘My wife slept with other males to spite me.’ 

N stared at his lips and swallowed thickly. She hurried back, her hands slipping on the smooth marble under her. 'Azriel,' she whined wincing at the way her body welcomed her impending doom.

Azriel inhaled sharply. ’You like that? When I call you my wife?’ He chuckled darkly. His lips whispered against hers, ‘Of all the things you kept from me, this is the worst. You’re not getting out of this easy this time.’

N pleaded with her eyes. Her breaths shuddered. ‘They are watching.’

‘Then they’ll know my actions are justified.’

Azriel dove for his kill but before his hands grasped her, she faded away. Her airy laughter echoed in his ears. She stood in the middle of the room—her hands gently clutching her skirt to free her feet, her braid coming undone over her shoulder, teeth sinking into her plump lip—a vision of devilry and seduction.

His eyes flashed up to hers with a glint. His shadows who wanted vengeance of their own circled his shoulders and arms with a frenzy. N was in trouble and she knew it. She turned to run only to be met with his hard chest emerging from a dark mist.

‘Did you really think you could get away?’ He caressed her cheek, ‘There’s no escape from me. You should know that by now.’

N slid her arms around his neck. ‘Back then, we barely knew each other. I didn’t want to scare you.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’ She sent every ounce of sincerity in her being through their bond, still he kept his end cloaked.

Azriel pulled his arms away. Dark amusement shone in his eyes. ‘As if a silly apology is going to save you.’

N smoothed her palms over his chest. ‘I know.’ Her lips brushed against his skin, littering his face with soft pecks. ‘I know,’ she kissed the corner of his lips, moving closer and closer to the centre as she breathed the words, ‘I’ll make it up to you. For every secret.’

Even as N pressed her body into his, Azriel stood unmoved with a cruel smirk on his lips and his hands by his side. Her fingers wandered over his sculpted torso before unbuttoning his shirt. The shadows on his shoulders swayed, watching, waiting. The regal female who made others quiver with fear grovelled for his forgiveness, and his wretched heart grew giddy with power and pride.

Azriel itched to grab her waist and bite her lips until she bled for him again. A true victory in this duel. He closed his eyes in a wasted effort to tame his thoughts. At the first touch of her cool fingers on his bare chest, he almost gave in. 

His eyes snapped open the moment N pulled her lips away. She dropped to her knees, her fingers dancing on his hips. Pressing a kiss below his navel, she inched her hands between his legs and fondled him with the heel of her palms. The warmth from her hands seeped through the cotton, which he was forced to wear upon their arrival, promising him the pleasure that awaited him.

In all the years with her, Azriel treated her lips as a relic–sacred and holy–a crown jewel in the trove that was her body. Something to be guarded, treasured, worshipped. He never had to take her mouth the way she offered to him to reach for the stars.

N smiled sweetly. The goddess who witnessed every vice and virtue under the sky knelt before him with love in her heart and devotion in her eyes.

Enchanted, Azriel watched her. His lips parted with a shaky breath. Their bond blazed with emotions he couldn’t name. At that moment, he knew there had never been nor ever will be a male more blessed than he was.

His scarred hand cradled her cheek tinged with a soft blush. She leaned in, closing her eyes, trapping his hand between her shoulder and face. She sighed. She kissed his wrist, his palm, his fingers. 

Azriel couldn’t decide which was in more pain—his heart or his cock. Both, mere toys in her hands. 

N grazed her lips against his clothed hardness and Azriel closed his eyes. His head fell back. A gasp escaped deep from his chest when her tongue soaked him through the fabric. He couldn't remember why he wanted to punish his sweet mate. He was close to breaking already and all she did was tease.

A sharp scrape of her teeth along his length had him bury his hand in her hair softer than the flowers that tumbled down her breast. He hissed in warning as his eyes held hers in a glare. 

‘I want you to look at me,’ she smiled. That damned smile that masked her every cruelty.

Too much time had passed since they felt each other’s skin. Months, almost a year of not seeing each other, not holding each other. And there she was ready to worship him with her entire being if only for a night until their time ran out. Every move of hers had his heart wring in pain, the desire through the bond overwhelming and consuming his soul.

His shadows swooped down and pulled her to him. Azriel crashed his lips onto hers before her feet rested on the ground and stole every little breath from her chest. His shadows brought them to her bed, delicate and soft fit for a queen, like her. 

He pried the cord that held her dress together below her breasts. His lips ventured south leaving a trail of red on her neck and chest while N rewarded him with her moans. Shadows, ever obedient, parted her dress to make way for their master’s hand to relish the smoothness of her skin. He caressed every inch of her body with his marred hands except where she ached for him the most. She pleaded and moaned, guiding his hand between her legs. 

‘You shouldn’t have lied to me,’ he growled, letting his canines scratch her jaw. ‘You know how I feel about secrets, don’t you?’ A sob left her lips as the back of his fingers teased her entrance with the barest of touch. ‘Is this what you call making up? Crying and moaning until your husband fucks you?’

N froze. Her eyes stared into his with unspoken emotion that radiated clearly in their bond instead. ‘Azriel, please.’ His hand came down hard between her legs. She arched her back beautifully for him as a silent gasp escaped her lips.

Azriel memorised every pull of her muscles. ‘You should’ve known better.’ He slipped his fingers in and out, barely past her entrance, coaxing moans out of her. Her wetness had his mouth water. He undid his pants enough to ease himself out and thrusted into her in a single move.

They were perfect for each other—masochists at heart, denying themselves release until the day for their reunion drew closer and closer. N reached a hand out and clawed at his chest. Her eyes widened and soon glazed with pleasure. Her lungs ached for air. Her body begged to escape the feral male whose only intention was to devour her body and soul. Yet, she wrapped her legs around him.

Azriel waited panting, his heart losing its rhythm, shirt clinging to his back. N tugged him closer with her heels on his ass. He growled, baring his teeth. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her to his chest. Her eyes fixated where his hips snapped against hers, where they were finally a whole. Each of her whimpers nudged him to quicken his pace.

He felt his release closing in. ‘Is this what you want?’ She looked up, mewling for him, her eyes burning with tears. Too soon. He pulled out of her weeping cunt and dove in with his tongue.

N cried out his name, sweeter than any melody she had ever sung for him. Her body slumped on the bed. She sought for leverage, her hands fisting the pillows. As she felt her fingers grasping at reality, shadows weaved around her wrist and pinned them above her head.

Azriel watched his mate’s body collapse and crash at his ministrations. He dug his fingers into her thighs tearing them open. Her bright eyes pinched shut before she met his crazed ones. With her chest glistening with sweat, her neck reddening, and her teeth sinking into her wet, swollen lips, she came.

Watching her body shiver with every lick of the evening breeze, Azriel rid himself of his clothes. He leaned down to kiss her lips, but she stared dazed. He laughed and nipped at the insides of her bicep, clearing the fog in her mind. Her arms flushed red as blood rushed back. Her fingers twitched and his shadows trickled along them. She came alive with whines when he slipped his fingers inside her.

Her desire came in waves through the bond. A groan rose from his chest, a guttural rumble. Even after his transgressions, she only wanted more, more of him. N clenched around his fingers at the sound. Azriel chuckled darkly into her ear. N curled into herself and clenched again. A renewed glint came to his eyes as he stared into hers. 

‘She likes my voice, does she now? I always wondered. . .’ He lowered himself between her legs again, his second haven, the first being her embrace. A series of soft ‘please’ escaped her but the lust in her eyes told a different story, the bond sang a different tune. And he chose to heed its calling.

He wrapped a hand around her thigh and pushed the other aside with his shoulder. He didn’t want to miss this one. It was no new knowledge. He always had his suspicions, years of practice in observing the unobserved. But to finally see it with his own eyes, he was desperate to witness it. He wanted it to be true, he prayed for it to be true. 

The room was filled with nothing but N’s silent pleas. Her wetness glistened in the last lights of dusk promising him an elixir crafted just for him. A fresh wave of arousal rolled over her body. Azriel hummed, breathing in the scent.

‘So pretty,’ he exhaled. His eyes took in every flutter that invited him back. ‘You like being praised, don’t you?’ N moaned fighting against the shadows that held her hostage. Azriel pulled her close by her hip and inhaled—loud and deep—his nose almost touching her. 

‘Always wet for me, eager for me.’ His voice softened, his taunts dying as if his anger was meant for N and not her cunt, ‘I missed you so much. I can tell you missed me too,’ he pressed his lips to her thigh, his eyes unwavering, ‘by the way you wrapped around me, by the way you swallowed me.’ His cock throbbed at his own words. 

He rasped, ‘Look at you, teasing me. Do you want a kiss?’ He flattened a hand on her abdomen, his fingers stroking deliberate patterns. ‘My tongue, my fingers? Hmm?’ Her hip jerked up for more and he pressed a kiss to the arch above her clit.

'Azriel, please. I want more.'

‘So wanton, so needy.’ A wisp of shadow licked her entrance once and N closed her eyes. Her hips moved in tandem as if she could materialise what she needed out of thin air. ‘So beautiful.’ Azriel grazed a thumb along the junction where her leg met her hip. N fell back with a groan.

‘You want me, don’t you? You never lie to me,’ another kiss to her thigh, ‘You can’t lie. Unlike N,’ his eyes finally caught her desperate ones. For a moment, he almost felt tyrannical to let the wicked smile pull at his lips. N threw her head back and circled her hips again.

‘That’s it, pretty. Show me how you’d fuck me. Show me how beautiful you are.’ His tongue trailed a line alongside his thumb, ‘Come for me.’

Her legs went taut around his shoulders. Her toes dug into his back next to where his wing emerged from. When her stomach sank in, Azriel shoved two fingers inside and held it there as she unravelled with a choked moan. 

Pure, perverse pride filled his chest as his mate bucked and thrashed at the impact. Azriel was sick—sick at heart, sick in his desires. He never denied it. But it hardly felt a sickness with N trembling with his fingers inside.

Having lived through the horrors he did and committed unspeakable sins over his lifetime, Azriel knew there was no absolution for him. Nor that he cared. He already had his heaven, right there, in front of him, basking in the afterglow of pure pleasure.

He nuzzled his nose into her thigh to steal a little more warmth from her exhausted body. He brushed his cheek against her, closing his eyes, savouring the moment before his primal need destroyed the only person he loved the most. He hummed satisfied, pressing the lightest of kisses to her skin, his pathetic attempt to atone for the wicked he unleashed upon her. His heart should cower in shame and guilt, yet it swelled with love and hunger.

His name, whispered once, tore his attention from his perverted thoughts. He never cared for what he was called. But in her sweet voice, a sacred chant uttered in the confines of their chamber, he liked no word more than his own name. His shadows answered her call, smoothed over her sweat-covered body apologising for their master’s sadism, burning her skin with their delicate coolness. Some mercy, for they were no better than him.

Azriel brushed a thumb along her cheek gathering her tears away, a tender kiss placed in their stead. He smiled like a gentle lover. He parted her lips with his fingers soaked in her essence and slid them past her teeth.

With hooded eyes, N looked up at the male who sought the remnants of her soul clinging to her body and sucked on the tips. Her tongue rivalled the wetness between her legs. She was a true seductress.

Azriel lapped at his fingers and the lips sheathing them alike, tasting her whole at once, embracing the insanity he fought to stave off for so long. Even when he slipped his fingers out of her mouth, even when he pressed his body onto hers, even when he lined himself to her welcoming heat, he didn’t break the kiss like her lips were his only tether to reality.

N stilled beneath him. Another tear slipped from the corner of her beautiful eyes. Azriel was cruel, but he was capable of loving his mate right. He wrapped a hand around her shoulder and smoothed a palm over her hip. He inched in slowly into her pulsing cunt, ‘Give me one more, love. Just one. For me?’ 

His mate, ever merciful, nodded. The adoration that flowed through the golden string between their hearts reflected in her eyes. ‘Please,’ she said breathlessly, ‘please, Azriel. I want to touch you.’

The one whose dangerous hands slit throats of the most feral of males and females with grace asked to touch him so sweetly. How could he deny anything to her?

His shadows didn’t wait for his instructions. They released her arms and slid over to the skin their master left unattended, staking their claim on her body. Azriel reined them back only to lose control again. She made him jealous of his own shadows, ones meant to serve him, ones who forgot their place around her.

A long sigh pulled his focus back to her. Too exhausted to hold him like she always did, N ran her hands along his sides. ‘I missed you.’

‘I missed you too.’ Azriel lifted her thigh higher and wrapped it around his waist ripping a whine from her throat. He did miss her. He missed everything about her. Her raw devotion to him, her pure heart, her unconditional love.

As he moved deeper and deeper still, he felt it. The echo of a song he knew too well, one of love and longing that kept them connected through the times of separation. Beyond the familiarity of its thrum, he recognised something else.

Like catching a flicker of light after being lost in the dark for long. Like the first time he gained control of the darkness he was born with. Like the first time he tasted his freedom. In her arms, everything made sense. His breaths strained.

Tears flowed freely from her eyes. ‘I missed you,’ There was a tremor in her voice. Azriel soothed her with his own declarations but she shook her head, ‘Don’t make me leave you again. Please, I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t, not without you.’

Azriel always believed he loved her more than she could love him in her lifetime. His petty display of jealousy and temper, a proof of his love. What an arrogant fool. His heart ached for failing to truly see his beloved’s feelings for him, how deep it ran in her veins, how it destroyed her while it breathed life into him.

He pulled her close, enveloping her in his comfort, and his wings draped around them.

‘Promise me, Azriel.’ She closed her eyes, ‘Please.’

‘I’m here now,’ he caressed her cheek. He left kisses on her forehead, eyes, cheeks, and finally on her lips. ‘I’m here. I’m with you, love. I’m here.’ And at those words, N let go one last time leading him to his release.

Azriel left his shaking mate in the bed with a kiss when he came back to his senses to draw a bath. He stood by the door of her bathroom and watched his shadows tickle the skin below her ear. A light chuckle escaped her lips as more chased her hand. It was a sight he was used to and missed dearly.

N smiled at him as he carried her in his arms. Her body shivered at the first touch as Azriel lowered her into the tub. She tugged at his wrist, and he joined in. She leaned her back into his chest and closed her eyes. The water washed her exhaustion away while his hands massaged her tender flesh. Her eyes struggled to stay open and she sank deeper against him. As he dried her tenderly after, she watched him with an easy smile.

Azriel carried her out to the bedroom and paused. Fresh sheets lined her bed. Sweet fragrance of jasmine lingered in the air. Lit candles stood on windows and her desk. Moonlight streamed past the drawn curtains. His shadows failed to notice, too lost in her as he was.

‘I told you they were watching,’ N said, her voice quiet and tired. 

He eased her into the bed and pulled a blanket over her legs. He traced the marks of red on her stomach and between her breasts, marring her pristine skin—still a masterpiece—complete, perfect. ‘Do you think they’ll let me near you again after seeing what I’ve done?’ He couldn’t stop the smile that cruelly tugged at his mouth.

N groaned, throwing a hand over her eyes. ‘I’m pretty sure Mother Aarzu is already dissecting how you wrecked me for her next seduction lesson.’ 

‘Well then,’ Azriel laid beside her and pulled her to his chest, ‘I’m willing to contribute more to these lessons. They sound very necessary.’

She glared from behind her hand. ‘Mock all you want but your brothers are worse. I bet Rhysand was listening to your thoughts the whole time. And they are already planning on ways to taunt you.’

Azriel lifted a brow. He opened his mouth to defend his ability to guard his thoughts when his brother’s laughter echoed in his mind. ‘Your shields are pathetic when she’s around. They went down the moment her lips were on you.’ N flinched in his arms and he knew his brother invaded her mind as well for his next words, ‘Thanks for the show. Quite an. . .inspiration.’

N scoffed, ‘I don’t know why we do it behind closed doors.’ Her words had his mind conjure ideas already. A frown appeared between her brows. She looked at him sharply when she felt a hardness pressing into her hip, ‘We’re not doing that.’

Azriel laughed aloud. Something he hadn’t done in a while after he sent his mate away. ‘Anything my wife wants,’ he teased. He cradled her face against his chest and kissed her eye. ‘Anything you want.’

[kisses4kaia]

in my feelings - tommy shelby

summary; you hate tommy shelby. tommy shelby hates you. from the way he walks to the way he talks, you hate him. and from the same things, he hates you, too. infinitely. imagine your dread when you are put in a position where you are forced to gain thomas’ help.

warnings; smut, angst, enemies to lovers, angry sex, rough sex, piv, and all around dirty fucking filthhhh, oh yeah and a shit tom of cursing☺️

a/n; angsty enemy’s to lovers with tommy shelby?? me thinks yes

PART TWO OUT NOW -

as your father tells you that he has to sell the farm you grew up on, the soil that held so many memories, the land that raised you to be the woman you are today, your heart broke into a million pieces.

because, see, without the land, there would be no places for your horses or other beloved animals to go, meaning you would have to sell them, too.

when the tears began taking a seemingly permanent residency in your eyes, he pulls you into a hug. “no, no, there has to be another way!”

and as the tears stained your fathers coat, he spoke. “there is one thing,”

and that is exactly how you got here. sat across from your mortal enemy since your schoolgirl days, tommy shelby, in his office.

he had that stupid, smug, annoyingly hot, smirk on his face.

“so, you’re telling me, that you need to marry me,” he practically laughed in your face.

“i don’t need to marry you, the farm does. if we get married, then a portion of your income goes to my family. and then, after saving enough, if everything goes right, we can get divorced and we never have to speak again.” you explained.

he nodded. “okay. say i do accept this outrageous proposal, what’s in it for me?”

you figured he may ask that. “my late mothers brother is the chief of police in birmingham. i can make a few calls, get them on your payroll, only without the pay.”

“but i am paying, aren’t i?” he furrowed his eyebrows and nodded once, making a statement more than a question.

he’s a smart man, so you figured he may say that, too. and here came the most humiliating part.

with a sigh, you spoke. “as my husband, you can… have me whenever you want,” you memorized what you were going to say earlier when it came to this, and only spoke from that script.

your voice was low, static, the humiliation of having any emotion in your voice would be too unbearable.

you honestly couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth and apparently, neither could tommy.

you weren’t so bothered by the prospect of fucking thomas, as much as you hated to admit it. it was just knowing that he would definitely hold it over you to the worlds end.

“you’re so desperate to save this farm, that you would let me fuck you whenever i want, however i want? if i pay you? you do realize that’s the definition of whoring?” he was genuinely amused at your proposition.

you scoffed, in disbelief kf his immaturity. “yes, i do realize, thomas. and yes, i really am desperate,”

he seemed to be in thought for a moment before speaking. “and what makes you think i want to fuck you? you’re really so narcissistic?”

you genuinely laughed at this. “you’re one to talk about narcissistic. and you’ll fuck just about anything that moves, i can’t imagine i’d be much of an exception,”

thomas chuckled lowly at this, his face seemingly challenging you. you wouldn’t let yourself be bullied, so you straightened your posture and finally asked. “so?” your voice was flat, almost disinterested.

he stared at your face for a few moments, like he was trying to break past your stoned demeanor.

“alright. we have a deal.” he confirmed. you nodded, fighting back happy tears.

as he held his hand out to shake, you glanced at it once with a silent decline.

“what, you’re ok with letting me fuck you like a whore whenever i want but you don’t want to shake my hand?” he stood, and because you wouldn’t let him have power over you- ironically enough- you stood, too.

“i didn’t realize you were so sensitive, shelby,” you spoke up.

“and i didn’t realize you were so headstrong, shelby,” he enunciated the last word, letting the epiphany set in for you.

oh god, you were going to be a shelby. for at least a few months, you were going to be a shelby.

you tried to make peace with the fact, but the it was just gnawing at you that all of this was plain unfair.

nonetheless, you shook his hand.

—

“what’s she doing here?” arthur’s thick accent sounded throughout the room.

tommy decided it’d be best for you to be there when he informed his family of the arrangement.

“well, brother. that is because she is my soon-to-be wife,” he cut straight to the chase and your eyes widened at his directness

polly nearly spat out her tea, john bursted out laughing, and the whole room was generally in an uproar.

ada, too, was puzzled, but quickly sedated the energy in the room with a loud “shut the fuck up and listen to the man!”

you were sat on a chair next to thomas’ standing body, not speaking.

“you two are getting married? you two? has hell frozen over? can pigs now fly?” john joked, but was serious in his disbelief. and he was right to. it wasn’t a secret that…

it all started in year nine. tommy was a 10th year and obnoxiously ‘cool’. he would hang out with the secondary school boys, sleep with their sisters, and torture anyone who’d let him, and most people did.

he was smart, but so were you, and you would not let him.

you were the only 9th year at the top of a predominantly year 10 class, tommy being a close second.

see, the shelby boy wasn’t used to anybody being better than him in any sense, but you made him get used to it.

he couldn’t stand you. from your way-too-short plaid skirts, to the way your hand would shoot up at every question asked.

he hated how he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you in class when you had your hair tied up in a pretty ponytail, gnawing on the eraser of your pencil, your eyebrows twisting in confusion when you couldn’t figure out an answer on a test.

just looking so innocent.

and most of all, he hated the nights he spent with his hand wrapped around his aching cock, whispering your name to himself like a prayer until he came hot strings of cum all over his heavy chest.

tommy rolled his eyes at his family’s immaturity. “it’s an arrangement. she needs money, and her uncle is the chief of police. we can take the coppers off our payroll,”

he left out a small detail but you weren’t complaining.

“after a few months, we’ll get a divorce and we can forget we ever crossed paths.” you spoke for the first time in the meeting.

the transaction seemed simple enough to most people in the room, and they all seemed to accept it.

“anyone have a problem with it? speak now or forever hold your peace,” he called out to the room, waiting for a potential objection.

and one never came. “alright, family meeting adjourned,” tommy waved everyone out of the room.

—

the weeks leading up to the wedding felt like they went on forever.

polly dragged you by your wrist to what seemed like a million different modistes and boutiques, dress shops and spas.

it was exhausting, but in bad there is good.

ada became your closest friend. she was the only person who knew about the other condition to you and tommy’s matrimony.

you were friends even as schoolgirls, despite you and thomas’ disdain for each other.

and now she was your best friend, and you felt inclined to make her your maid of honor.

the hours before the wedding were the worst of it. at least six women were in the room at all time, scrutinizing you to the moon and to saturn. they studied and judged every crevice and line on your face and body.

after being poked and prodded at for forever, it was finally time to walk down the aisle and see your soon-to-be husband.

you were in an over the top, yet elegant gown, the purest color of white you’d ever seen, with a sheer veil covering your face.

you did look quite beautiful, you thought as you looked in the mirror. but you couldn’t help but begin to cry.

you cried because you thought the day you’d see yourself in white would be under much different circumstances. you wanted to marry someone you loved, and for that someone to love you, too. and lord knows, thomas shelby did not love you.

even despite your own feelings for him.

ada came up from behind you in the floor mirror and rested her head upon your shoulder. “you look beautiful,” she spoke, noticing, yet disregarding your tears.

“thank you,” you sniffled. “it will all be okay. i spoke to tommy, he’ll treat you well, i promise,”

her words provided some much needed console to you. “thank you, addy. i wouldn’t have made it had you not been with me. thank you, and love you,” you turned to look at her face.

she just smiled and hugged you. “in less than an hour, we’ll officially be sisters. that should prove some motivation to get your ass down that aisle!” she exclaimed, already tugging on your arm to leave the room and enter the chapel.

you laughed and allowed her to pull you away, long since forgotten your woe.

—

“with the power invested in me, i now pronounce you man and wife. you may now kiss the bride!” the priest announced, signaling for you and tommy to get off of your knees and kiss.

as you both rose to your feet, thomas brought his face to yours in a seemingly disinterested kiss, it almost seemed practiced.

it caught you off guard, and caused a deep sadness in your belly, but you shut it down as ada, polly, esme, and all of the female shelby’s came to congratulate you.

you and your new husband were dragged outside to the car, destined for tommy’s estate, where festivities would begin.

the drive was short, and your patience was thinning, as you just wanted this all to be over.

you knew you were in for a long night as people began flooding into your new home.

and like every shelby-hosted event ever, an all-out rager-like party commenced.

thomas would not speak to you. unless, of course, somebody who was none the wiser to your contract would mention how in-love the two of you seemed. then he could not stop smiling at you, holding your waist tight, even sometimes kissing you.

you had never wanted to die more.

you must have drunk atleast eight glasses of champagne by the end of the night, just trying to get through it.

and that is how you spent the rest of the evening. you got through the first dance, you got through the kind old women talking about what an attractive couple you both made, and you got through seeing tommy flirt with other women at his own fucking wedding.

and at last, it finally came time for the party to end. you practically shoved people out of your door, ready to sleep in your no-doubtedly own bedroom.

you knew it was an arrangement, it was a tale as old as time, and yet you still couldn’t help but feel disappointed. nothing went the way you wanted, nothing. and at the end, all you had to show for it was a farm. it was actually kind of hilarious.

a maid hurriedly showed you where you’d be sleeping, and as you walked into the room, you realized it was indeed thomas’, with the way papers were stern all over the desk and the whiskey on the tray beside the bed.

she was gone before you could turn and ask any questions.

you groaned and sat down on the settee across the room from the bed, your dress making it impossible to see your feet as you tried to remove your heels.

your hair was next, pulling the many pins out of the intricate hairstyle.

you were almost out of this nightmare of a dress, before your zipper got stuck. “fuck,” you groaned.

“couldn’t wait for me before you started undressing?” your heard thomas’ deep voice from the door. he was teasing you, obviously, but you really weren’t in the mood for it.

“thomas, i’m tired. you try spending 8 hours in a dress of this size, then see if you want to tease me for trying to get out of it as soon as i can,” you quickly snapped back, and also quickly getting frustrated with the zipper.

he seemed to understand that you were not be messed with at the moment, so all he did was approach you, turn you around by your shoulders, and tug the zipper down until the dress pooled at your feet.

you hurriedly stepped out of it and sighed, feeling like the weight of the world was off of your shoulders.

“thank you, thomas,” you said contently, rubbing your shoulders, not realizing your compromising position.

you were half naked, only covered by your meticulously created and tailored white lingerie, and knee-high white socks.

apparently, thomas’ eyes could not force themselves to your face, because even as you realized his gawking and called him out for being so materialistic, he wasn’t seeming to follow what you were saying.

instead, all he did was walk over to you, place his hands on your waist like his life depended on it, and kissed you deeply, the kind of kissed you yearned for at the alter.

you almost got lost in it, before all the horrible memories of this past night came flooding in. you quickly pushed him away and slapped him right across his perfect cheekbones.

“fuck was that for?” he’s asked as if he was taken aback, yet made no effort to move away from you.

you scoffed with a laugh, but nothing was funny. “you know, i would be surprised had i not known you,”

“what are you talking about?” he seemed as though he was getting mad at you being mad, which you caught and fueled your anger further.

you got up in his face, sticking your finger in his chest and spoke condescendingly to him.

“you know, you could at least wait until after the fucking wedding to start to begin practically sticking your dick in every woman you see!”

“we never agreed on loyalty! that wasn’t part of our arrangement!” his voice began to increase in volume as well.

you glued your eyes to his piercingly blue ones and leaned closer to him. “i hate you, thomas shelby.” you whispered, yet your tone was anything but gentle.

“yeah? well, you can bet i hate you more,” he stood straighter, his height forcing to you look up at him.

the two of you stood there, waiting to see who would break eye contact first. he did, looking down at your lips, but just as quickly, he was right back onto your eyes.

“fuck it,” his thick accent almost growled, grabbing your face and smashing his lips unto yours.

this one was different from the one earlier. that one was a feigned love, a lust. this one was angry, hateful, and sultry.

oh, how you hated him, however his aggression intrigued you, making you kiss back even harder, forcing your tongue into his mouth.

your lips stayed connected as tommy walked you back to his desk.

your tongues fought for dominance and only disconnected for air. he fumbled with his belt before sliding off his jacket and removing his shirt.

he roughly pulled down your panties and unclipped your bra with one hand.

“jump,” he muttered into your mouth. you do so and he catches you, preceding to sit you on the desktop.

tommy runs his middle finger down your slit, collecting the embarrassing amount of wetness from you.

he chucked lowly before gripping your hips and lining his cock up with your entrance. “hate me, huh? i don’t think this cunt quite agrees with you,” he teased, but you were quick to rebuttal.

“i don’t think your dick agrees with your supposed hatred for me, either,” and you were right, his cock was painfully hard.

he suddenly decides he’s tired of teasing and pushes his full cock into you, bottoming out when he feels his tip prod at your gummy wall.

a choked gasp was emitted from you, and it sounded like heaven to thomas. he groaned as he pulled out almost all the way, then slammed into you again.

his speed is relentless, showing no mercy for your unprepared pussy. as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t deny how good it felt.

you wrapped you legs around his hips and tangled your hands in his hair before whispering in his ear, “i fucking hate you, hate you so fucking much,”

his growls were animalistic as his thrusts became more determined. “fuck you,” tommy gritted, right before a long since held in moan fell from his lips.

as much as you hated to admit it, you found your orgasm building in your stomach, the heat becoming unbearable.

“oh, shit, i’m gonna cum, oh my god,” you moaned loudly, your pussy tightening around him.

your release came to you in a hot white flash, your back arching impossibly more, your chest pressing against his, and you were on the very edge of the desk now.

a string of curse words and moans flowed from your lips like chords from a song tommy never wanted to end.

you whined at the sensitivity of your cunt, tommy not ever slowing down. “sh, sh, shhh. i know, i know, doll. i’m almost there, just hold on a little longer,”

soon, his hips met yours in one final, deep, long, thrust as he released bands of warm hot cum into you.

“fuck me, y/n,” he let out an exasperated laugh as he pulled out of you, watching the both of yours ecstasy pour from your abused hole.

“i believe i just did, thomas.”

[ugh-yoongi]

about u | jjk

❝ this song is about a love that you can’t reconcile—wanting to make a home out of a person that has proved to you time and again that they are not a home; they are just a person. it’s about retracing scars, negative patterns, all with the silent belief that moments of communion and understanding might justify months of misfiring and regret. we’re all just trying to get back to that ‘first high’ feeling—an honest endeavor, however futile. ❞

✤ PAIRING jungkook x f. reader ✤ GENRE exes to fwb to strangers, college/grad school au; angst, smut ✤ RATING explicit. minors do not interact. ✤ WARNINGS toxic & self-destructive behavior (inc. jealousy and possessiveness). infidelity (with an external partner). reader is bisexual (which is not a warning but a general statement so the homophobes stay away) and there is a brief mention of coming out. two people who are both too honest and unable to communicate. swearing. cigarettes and alcohol use. kissing, some spitting, fingering, oral sex, protected vaginal sex. every time i asked jess to read this over for me she always came back with "jfc jewel" so i guess this is angsty. unhappy ending. ✤ WORDCOUNT 7.3k ✤ LISTEN TO this was based off of "winterbreak" by muna, but there are bits and pieces of the entire about u album in here, "everything" and "outro" especially. ✤ THANK YOU to muna for writing the album, @the-boy-meets-evil and @hot-soop for reading over this for me multiple times and putting up with all my brainstorming and my beloved @here2bbtstrash for the extra set of eyes. ✤ AUTHOR'S NOTE hi, thank you for reading! i cannot emphasize enough how much more sense this story will make if you listen to about u in the background. i would also like to reiterate that these two are maybe not all that likeable most of the time, but i hope they're still human. as i once saw in an ao3 tag, you are more than the worst thing you've ever done.

[ the first. ] You’d read an article once—something about the second time you fall in love.

It’s going to feel different, it’d said. The first time felt like a dream.

As you stare across the kitchen at Jeongguk, you think that might be true. The part about it feeling like a dream, because it used to be a pinky-lavender haze and everything that has come after hasn’t felt so good. Not a nightmare, but close. At least with nightmares you can force yourself awake. You can tell yourself it wasn’t real. You can pretend.

This is as real as it gets, watching him smile over the rim of a plastic red cup. Someone else’s hand on his arm. The girl it belongs to looks nothing like you, and you wonder if she’ll be the second time he falls in love. You also wonder why you didn’t stay home. You wonder about fault and regret and if either of them even matter. No, you eventually decide: there’s just you in Taehyung’s kitchen and Jeongguk on the other side of it and the result of a million decisions in between you.

There had been a plenitude of reasons you’d fallen in love with Jeongguk, but he’s undoubtedly beautiful. Soft, tinkling laugh; a smile that reaches his eyes. Not all that long ago you used to be responsible for both, so there’s a lingering, bitter sting beneath your wonder. Jeongguk is beautiful and no longer yours, and that’s enough to have you retreating to the living room.

Jimin’s at your side immediately. Wraps an arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of your head that does little to alleviate your guilt. Missing someone is always easier with thousands of miles in between you. All those distractions. Just like a nightmare, distance lets you pretend. Not so easy to do when all those ghosts come back to haunt you; when you can still hear Jeongguk’s soft voice in the kitchen. The music is so loud but you’d be able to hear him anywhere, you think.

Even places he’s not.

Jimin leans down, forces his way into your personal space. “Are you doing okay?” he asks, and his words are warm and wrapped in alcohol, but you nod. You’re scared you might start crying if you open your mouth. Afraid of what might come out besides shuddering breaths, which just makes you feel stupid. Baby’s first breakup, you chide yourself. Maybe Jimin can get you a commemorative ornament.

Taehyung is turning twenty-four and it should be joyous. It is joyous. People that aren’t you are laughing and dancing and pressing their cheeks together as they huddle close to take selfies. Someone you don’t recognize is cackling wildly as they wrangle Taehyung into a headlock and smear cake frosting on his face. Someone else is tutting and running a rag under the tap to wipe it off and then the frosting is gone. It’s hard not to draw parallels.

There one minute and gone the next.

Gently wiped away.

But the feeling lingers, doesn’t it? The tack of the frosting, all the love that transpired between you and Jeongguk. Sometimes you fear it’s permanent—not able to be wiped away with a rag run under the tap, not able to be wiped away at all. Just this burden you’re cursed to carry, because Jeongguk isn’t and can’t be yours but knowing does nothing to erase the past. Doesn’t help you forget. It’s fucked and it’s unfair, but that’s just the way it goes.

“I think I should leave,” you say, watching another scene play out in the kitchen. Jeongguk fills a cup and hands it to a different pretty girl. Everyone here is so pretty. Makes sense; so is Taehyung. Pretty people are drawn to one another like that. “Is it too soon? Will it be obvious?”

Jimin sighs, wraps you in a hug. Says, “Oh, love,” in a way that’s too sympathetic. Makes you sound too pathetic. “No one will blame you. These things are hard.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Not that you don’t appreciate Jimin’s reassurance, but sometimes it all feels a bit silly. Weren’t you the one to walk away? Call it off? Are you allowed to mourn the very thing you destroyed?

And Jimin, bless him, is so patient with you. Asks if you need a ride home and you wave him off, remind him your parents’ place isn’t far, that the cold might do you some good. You tell him you appreciate him and his night shouldn’t be ruined on your account, and you just laugh when he tries to protest, tell him to go get himself another drink.

“Text me when you get home,” he says, voice stern, and you brush that off, too. “I’m serious. It’s late and it’s dark and anyone could be out there—”

“Maybe I should walk you home, then?”

All those articles you read about the second time you fall in love didn’t mention this. Said nothing about the way a voice will always be able to turn your world on its axis and how to right it again. Said nothing about how to coexist with ghosts. Said nothing about what to do with all the yearning and the pain and the stupid, selfish strands of hope. There are paragraphs about an overarching, general grief, but nothing about the specific one living inside of you.

The shock on Jimin’s face is reflecting your own. It’s nice to not be the only one caught off-guard and stammering over their words. It’s nice to have a friend when it feels like your entire world is on the edge of collapse. “I don’t…” he begins. Swallows thickly and turns to look at you, an obvious question biting at the back of his teeth.

You know the answer.

You know that what you should say isn’t what you want, just like you know it isn’t fair, this thing you’re doing. Because you turn to Jeongguk and say, “Are you sure?” which might as well be a yes, because you’re selfish and suspended in this liminal space and don’t want him to go home with anyone else. You don’t want him to move on.

He shrugs. “It’s on the way.”

You say okay. Let Jimin help you into your coat, hide his face in your neck as he tells you to be careful, and that stings. You’ve never had to be careful around Jeongguk before. The two of you never, ever hurt one another—until you did. The kind of hurt your heart hasn’t easily forgotten, is still stubbornly clinging to.

Your heart wants Jeongguk, always.

You want Jeongguk, always, so you let him grab your hand, link your pinkies together. You let him lead you out of the house and don’t turn back to see who might be watching. God, you want to, though. Want all those pretty girls to see that he’s leaving with you. Want them to know it’s your name that’s branded on his heart; your name beneath his skin. For once, you want someone to want what you have.

It’s strange. The two of you have been apart for eight months, and there’s a lot of things you might want to tell someone in that amount of time, but you find it hard now. Don’t know where to start, which words to use. Don’t want to say something stupid, because Jeongguk is just walking you home but you’ve assigned a lot of meaning to it, and eight months is a long time to yearn for something and finally get it.

So you say, “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” because it’s something that’s true and easy to say.

Jeongguk doesn’t answer right away. Drops your pinky so he can hold your hand properly—fully, all five fingers intertwined—and squeezes. “Is it weird for you?” he asks, and he doesn’t sound nervous. Almost sounds like he’s smiling a little, giving you shit. He sounds familiar.

“No. I don’t know. Maybe a little.” He asks why? at the same time he passes under a streetlight. Lights up golden and amber. He’s beautiful—“I don’t know. It’s just… I guess it’s just been a long time. We didn’t leave things the best.”—and no longer yours.

The Jeongguk walking beside you is not the same Jeongguk that walked out of your dorm eight months ago, tears staining his cheeks, the smell of a goodbye fuck still clinging to his clothes, his skin, sweat still dotting his hairline. This Jeongguk is sharper, more selfish with his laughter, and you wonder about all the ways heartbreak can change a person. How you’re changed for facilitating it. You wonder if Jeongguk blames you before deciding you’re too much of a coward to find out the answer.

“Was it that bad?” When you look over at him, he’s chewing on his lip ring, trying to bite back a smile. “You’ll have to remind me. I don’t remember.”

You stop walking, jerking forward when Jeongguk is left unaware and keeps going. “That’s not funny,” you say. “Jeongguk, that’s not—I did what I thought was best, okay? I thought I was doing the right thing—”

The smile drops from Jeongguk’s face. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he says, and he’s hesitant to reach out and touch you but he does it anyway. Cups your face in both hands. “I know, it’s okay. That’s just—it’s just life, right? You did what you had to do, babe. It’s okay.”

You did what you had to do, babe.

Did you?

Jeongguk is selfish with his laughter but never his affection, and knowing that feels like an albatross around your neck. You have broken him so entirely, but he’s still kind to you, finds it a worthwhile thing to be.

His eyes go to your lips. Tattooed fingers dimple your face just a little more, dig in deeper. When you dare to take him in, he looks… different. No longer amused, the way he was just seconds ago; now, there’s something dark there. Longing, anger, hunger. Jeongguk looks like he wants to swallow you whole and make you suffer; looks like he wants to cage you beneath him and worship you through the comedown.

I’d let him, you think as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. As you smell the smoke that lingers, the sweat and the alcohol. I’d still let him.

It’d be so easy to press a kiss there. To feel his skin beneath your lips: flushed, still warm from the party, not all daunted by the bitter winter wind biting at your cheeks. As you lean in further, you wonder if it’ll taste the same. You wonder how much can change in eight months and if all those old comforts change, too. If it’s something inevitable.

Jeongguk moves his hands to your waist. Crawls his fingertips beneath your jacket and finds bare skin. Sucks in the smallest bit of air, and you would’ve missed it had it been any other time, but winter is always quiet and subdued. Always smells transitional, something dangerously close to hope and redemption.

And eight months is a long time to miss the feel of someone’s lips, isn’t it, so you think you can be excused for reaching for something you thought you’d never have again.

The first kiss is hesitant, testing; pressed to the spot just beneath his ear. Maybe you don’t know this Jeongguk, but you know the version of him you used to love—the one you still do—and you know the way he’ll sigh. You know the way his hands will grip tighter. You can still hear it, the way you used to kiss him there and he’d say, don’t start something you can’t finish, baby, and the way you’d laugh and always, always finish it. Can still feel the warmth that used to bloom in your chest. The love.

Jeongguk won’t say that now, you know. Wonder if it’d sound more like don’t start something you already finished if he did. He huffs a small laugh, more an exhale than anything, and asks, “What are you doing?”

And you answer, “I don’t know,” because it’s honest. You admit, “I guess I just miss you,” because it’s true.

A war wages within Jeongguk. You can see the storms, the white flags that are close to being thrown out. Can see the way his gaze flits between your lips and your eyes. What he’s looking for, you don’t know, but the storm rages on. And just like real life, just when you think it’s at its worst, there’s a break in the clouds: a tangible beam of silvery-warm light when Jeongguk tangles his hands in your hair, thumbs at the hinge of your jaw. Jeongguk tilts your head back and looks ethereal in the amber glow of the streetlights.

He says, “We shouldn’t,” and you nod, because you know and the anguish on his face is surely mirrored on yours, but when he follows it with, “let me take you home, let me take care of you,” you find it impossible to care.

You nod.

Everything is amber.

Eight months is a long time to go without the way Jeongguk kisses you: intentionally, demandingly, insatiably. He still tastes the same. Tastes like the first time you’d ever dared to kiss him, back at that party freshman year, tongue flavored with cheap liquor. Jeongguk tastes forbidden and feels like coming home.

You couldn’t say how you make it to Jeongguk’s apartment, but the way you stumble over the threshold feels familiar. The way the door is barely locked when Jeongguk crowds your space; picks you up, wraps your legs around his waist, presses you against it, hips moving on their own accord, rutting, all those little sounds spilling from his lips—everything is familiar. This is not just a practiced song and dance but something memorized. Something instinctual. You could be apart from Jeongguk for years instead of months and your body would still know what to do.

He carries you to his bedroom and you don’t think about who else has been between his sheets, because he puts you down so gently. Kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck—all gentle, powder-soft. Sounds like spring when you paw at the velvety cashmere of his sweater, pull it over his head, and he sighs. Feels like he’s breathing fresh life into something he shouldn’t, something long dead, but then you skim along his warm skin and your world is reduced to the way it feels like silk beneath your fingertips.

“I still love you,” Jeongguk whispers against your mouth, his inked fingers toying with the button on your jeans. Pops it open, pulls the denim down your thighs. Doesn’t bother pulling them off, only goes as far as your knees. And it’s uncomfortable, the way it’s bunched there, but the way Jeongguk says, “Fuck, missed you so much,” is so sweet.

Everything happens too fast.

Jeongguk leaves your shirt on. Drags it up and over your breasts and kisses at the newly-exposed skin. Sinks his teeth in, lets it hurt for a second before he laves over the marks. Settles between your legs and coaxes an orgasm out of you with his mouth and his fingers. Speaks his praise into the juncture of your thigh, breathless as he touches himself, strokes his cock with the wetness lingering on his fingers. Looks so, so pretty when he sits back on his haunches and says, “Just wanna look at you,” and makes it sound wistful and longing.

Makes it sound like it means something.

He’s still touching himself, still slicking himself up. There’s a split second where he goes to move and thinks better of it. Looks to the side before looking back at you. The storm kicks up again. “Have—” he begins before he swallows thickly. Dares to look hopeful, even through the squall. “Have you been with anyone else? Since…?”

You haven’t. Tried to, once—another stupid party, more cheap liquor passed to your mouth from someone else’s, but it hadn’t gone anywhere. They hadn’t tasted like Jeongguk; hadn’t felt the same. Two puzzle pieces that fit together all wrong.

Jeongguk has, though. Something you’d heard from a friend of a friend that you weren’t meant to. They’d called it a rebound, and it had bloomed so many ugly thoughts in your head. Five months had passed. Jeongguk was fucking someone else in his bed while you were in yours, torturing yourself over whether or not to tell him happy birthday. Whether it was allowed to or not, it’d stung.

(You had. You’d reworded the text a million times, plucked up all the courage you could find before you sent it. It’d gone unanswered, just like you expected it would, and you thought it was because Jeongguk didn’t want to talk to you. Thought you were digging your fingers into wounds that had yet to heal, so it’d stung but you understood.

But Jeongguk hadn’t answered because he was fucking someone else. Had someone else’s taste on his tongue; was panting someone else’s name into the dark. The embarrassment had been the worst part.)

Still does, if you’re being honest with yourself, so you lie. “I—yeah,” you answer. “Just one.”

Looks like it stings Jeongguk, too. “Right,” he responds, blinking back tears, and he’s got a lot of nerve, you think. “Yeah, okay, I’ll just—a condom. Are you…”

“Jeongguk—”

“Are you sure? Maybe this isn’t…” He huffs. Drops the condom on the bed, hangs his head. “What are we doing?”

You stare up at the ceiling. Nothing up there but the swirls in the plaster. “I don’t know,” you admit. “Hurting each other, probably.”

Jeongguk walks his fingers down your thigh. Grips at your skin, wants it to bruise. Wants you to have something to remember him by come morning. “Sometimes I’m really mad at you, you know?”

“Yeah, trust me, I know.”

He nods. Refuses to look you in the eye now that you’re watching him. “I still love you so fucking much and I’m still so angry. What am I supposed to do with that? What am I… fuck, I thought I was over it. I thought I’d see you and not feel a fucking thing.” There’s fresh ink on the back of his left hand. You hadn’t noticed it earlier, but you notice it now, when he runs his hands down his face.

You also notice the way the atmosphere shifts, the split second in which his heartache bleeds into something else—resolve, maybe. Obstinacy. Like he knows how this is going to end and he’s going to do it anyway. He’s going to find the most painful part and press on it, dig his fingers in, and it’s just an inevitable, foregone thing. Something he can prevent and something he’s choosing not to.

“You fucked someone else,” he sneers. Rips the foil open with his teeth, flashing too white in the dark of his bedroom. Rolls the condom on like it’s an inconvenience. Like you’re an inconvenience. “Was it good? Was it worth it?”

You roll your eyes. Feel the way your breath catches in your throat, because you’re not going to cry. Jeongguk fucked someone else and is vilifying you and it’s hypocritical and ugly and unfair, but you’re not going to cry over it. You’re going to press the gas pedal as far as it can go, say, “Yeah, it was,” and find some wicked delight in the way his eyes squeeze shut, as if it can spare him from the pain.

The two of you used to love each other. Jeongguk used to smile down at you when you were naked beneath him like this. Used to lean in close and whisper that he loved you just as he pushed inside even though you knew, you could feel it in everything he did. Now, there’s no smile. Now, he leans down and spits on your pussy and pushes inside and doesn’t tell you a goddamn thing.

Not with words, anyway.

Because the way he fucks you says it all. Impersonal, desperate, bitter. He grips your hips and fucks into you frenzied and fast. Takes your hand and puts it on your clit and tells you to get yourself off. An inconvenience. Tells you he misses your tight cunt, tells you he misses the way it milks his cock, tells you he misses watching the way you come undone underneath him, but he doesn’t tell you he misses you.

There’s a moment, just after he spills into the condom and stays inside, just catching his breath, when you think he might say it. Might tell you he loves you around the lump in his throat, might apologize, might ask if you two can’t figure it out.

There’s only a moment.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything. Lets the moment pass. Pulls out and ties off the condom and wordlessly gets up to throw it away. It’s the silence that pisses you off. The disregard. Jeongguk hates you for something you’d lied about doing that he’d done for real, so you can be wordless, too. You can treat him like an inconvenient, cheap fuck, too. You can get up and find your clothes and pull them on and let him watch, words biting at the back of his teeth, and you can tell yourself to feel nothing.

You can say, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” and not shy away from the resentment in your voice, because it’s properly placed. “You fucked someone else, too, so you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, Jeongguk.”

Eight months is a long time to miss someone, to play at daydreams. To think of all the things you want to say, the things you’ll do. In not one of them did you think about this: you, fully dressed and stinking of sex, saying, “It’s late. I’ll show myself out.”

Jeongguk, tears glistening on his cheeks, saying, “No, let me—baby, I’m sorry, please—I’ll drive you.”

A shake of your head. Jeongguk doesn’t push it.

Roll credits.

[ the second. ] Jimin wants to talk your ear off about it—the girl you’re seeing.

It’s new and there isn’t much to say. You tell him the two of you met at one of the student showcases put on by the art department and leave off the part about all of Jeongguk’s old friends being there, that he would’ve participated, too, if he hadn’t dropped out after you broke his heart. Leave off the part where you would’ve been there to support him instead, in another life. Leave off the part where it’d just been morbid curiosity: you, not an art student, wandering those halls to see if Jeongguk’s photographs were still framed on the wall.

“Is she nice?” Jimin asks, head nearly knocking into yours as someone shoves by him. “Fucking asshole.”

You nod. “Why would I date someone that wasn’t nice?”

Jimin, perpetually unbothered until he decidedly isn’t, sends you a look that he hides behind the rim of his cup. “Because you’re in your self-destruction era and aren’t thinking clearly.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. You know I’m happy if you’re happy, but…” He pauses as he trails off. Tries to wrap his words in something delicate. “It’s pretty clear you still aren’t over it. That’s all.”

You snort. “That’s all?” you repeat, like it’s some small thing. Like it’s normal and fine.

“I’m sure it’s easier to pretend when the two of you are thousands of miles apart,” Jimin amends, and he must see how you bristle, stung by the callout, because his eyes soften. “Tell me about her.”

She’s beautiful and kind and smart. Smokes clove cigarettes and the smell is always clinging to her skin. You know how to make her come but don’t know what she’s majoring in—fashion, you think, because she’s always holding fabric swatches against your skin. Tells you what suits you and what doesn’t. Tells you which textures don’t work, what’s too warm, and she doesn’t need to tell you what’s too cold because you already know it’s you.

She’s beautiful and kind and smart and has no idea you’re still in love with someone else.

But you can’t tell Jimin that, can you? Can’t tell him about how she’d dragged you to a private corner in the gallery and kissed you breathless; the way she made you come on her fingers; the way Jeongguk’s name nearly slipped out of your mouth as you shook. Can’t tell him that she’s got arms full of art. Delicate patchwork; nothing like the harsh, bold colors inked into Jeongguk’s skin, but it feels the same to trace the lines.

You can’t tell him much of anything, so what you settle on is, “She’s nice—good for me,” and it doesn’t sound convincing to either of you.

Jimin doesn’t call you on it, though. Not again. Instead, he keeps his gaze steady, staring into the fire, the flames dancing wildly when you meet his eye. “You need to be careful,” he says. “You’re going to hurt her, too. Maybe worse than you hurt him.”

“Jimin—”

“Just be careful,” he reiterates, and all you can do is nod. What else is there to do besides wait for the inevitable crash and burn?

And it’s a little unfair, you think, that Taehyung grows older every single year. A little unfair that guilt won’t let you decline the invitations. A little unfair that you can still pick Jeongguk’s laughter out of a crowd. A little unfair that these hometown friends-turned-acquaintances still throw sideways glances whenever someone else touches him, as if he still has someone to answer to; as if they’re expecting something.

An hour. You’ve survived an hour longer than you did last year, and it’s not much but you’re still proud of yourself. You’ve had a drink, talked to someone other than Jimin. Managed to ignore the way Jeongguk is ignoring you; the way he immediately leaves a room as soon as you enter.  Maybe it’s better like this, you reckon. Maybe it’s what you need.

An hour is long enough. Jimin doesn’t comment on the way your bones crack when you stand to leave. No one needs a reminder of growing older. He doesn’t ask if you’ll be okay, either; if you need a ride home. Instead, he stays quiet as he studies you, clearly wondering if lightning strikes twice. If you’re going to be able to walk past Jeongguk and out the door without making another mistake.

You can at least make it across Taehyung’s sprawling yard and to the house. You can dodge the sweat-slick bodies and the girls sitting in laps. You can toss your empty cup in an overflowing trash can. You can pretend the eyes on your back are well-intentioned.

You can make it to the bathroom.

Annoying, the way your phone has been vibrating all night only to disappoint you. Irrational. You scroll past the emoji-laden messages, the coy flirting, because they’re from the person you’re actually dating—the person you told you were going to sleep early—and not from Jeongguk. You should feel guilty. You should feel guilty, but the face staring back at you in the mirror doesn’t look guilty at all.

She looks tired. A little beat-down, but that’s life.

Maybe that’s just what happens when you’ve spent the last two years of your life chasing after ghosts.

A knock at the door startles you. Sends your phone tumbling to the floor, screen probably cracked to hell, and you swear under your breath. “Just a minute!” you call out, a little stunned from how threadbare you feel all of a sudden.

Still, the knocking continues, and you’re on your knees on this bathroom floor and all you want to do is cry. You don’t want to be on this floor in this house. You don’t want to keep putting in the effort of maintaining the facades of all these friendships. You don’t want to keep coming back to this town, don’t want to keep being confronted with the harsh reality of all your mistakes.

“Just a fucking min—”

The words die on your tongue, because there Jeongguk stands, all the air in your lungs dissipating at the amount of space he takes up. Even worse when he steps inside and locks the door behind him. You feel like you’re going to drown. You feel like you’re going to scream or cry or both, and you’re still on the floor, still on your knees, and it feels too much like penance when you look up at him. Feels like you’re groveling, praying for forgiveness.

You stand quickly, ignoring the rush of blood to your head, the way your legs tingle. Jeongguk still hasn’t said a word, doesn’t seem like that’s going to change, either, and it’s really all you can do to stay on your feet when everything in you is screaming to collapse.

Eventually, he says, “You’re seeing someone,” and it isn’t a question, not really, but it borders on one. It’s a question and a confirmation and somehow sounds a lot like he’s asking for permission for something.

“I—yeah.” You swallow. “It’s new.”

He hums. Steps a little closer. Leans against the sink. Darts out his tongue to swipe at his bottom lip before he tugs his lip ring between his teeth. “Yeah? Does he treat you well?”

“She,” you correct, and there’s a flash of something in his eyes. Surprise, maybe. Jeongguk, at one point, had known everything about you, but not this. “And yeah,” you add on, barely a whisper, “she does.”

Part of you feels embarrassed. Jeongguk had known everything about you but not this, and you shouldn’t feel embarrassed or guilty but it still sits there in the middle of your chest. Feels like you’ve been keeping secrets. Feels like shame, even though you aren’t ashamed. Feels like you’re awaiting judgment. But the surprise in Jeongguk’s eyes disappears and something else settles in its place—uncertainty, if you had to guess.

“Are you happy with her?”

You shrug. “Like I said, it’s new.”

And Jeongguk is as emulous as ever, because he asks, “Does it feel like what we had?” and you already know the answer is no.

“I’m not sure anything will.”

It’s honest; you hadn’t said it to appease him, but he looks pleased anyway. You’re starting to understand why so many people write about their first love. Why it’s such a powerful role to fill. Because you and Jeongguk are standing in a bathroom behind a locked door, feet apart from one another, and you think, I don’t think there’s anyone I will ever love more than him even though it’s been two years. You think, I don’t think I’ll ever recover from this.

You think, I would try over and over and over again if he asked me to.

Later on, when you’re alone in your childhood bed and your face is streaked with tears, only your shame and guilt for company, you won’t be able to figure out who moved first, but one of you had.

Once upon a time, you had known everything about Jeongguk, too. You could recite his taste from memory, but it’s different this time. He licks into your mouth and it tastes like ash—nothing like the clove cigarettes your girlfriend smokes, but close enough that the parallel burns like acid in your throat. It’s close enough that you can keep your eyes shut and pretend again.

This time there’s no softness to be found. There’s just Jeongguk’s mouth pressed to yours, barely letting you breathe, not wanting anyone to hear. There’s just the sink digging into your back. Jeongguk’s hands gripping at your waist, pulling at the hem of your skirt. There’s the frustration and desperation of two people who love each other but will never, ever get it right.

There’s Jeongguk asking, as he spits into his hand and slicks you up, if you’re going to tell her.

There’s you, already too far gone, saying you don’t know.

There’s Jeongguk asking, as you’re clenching around him and dragging him with you to the edge, if you’d come back to him if he asked you to.

There’s you, already knowing the answer to this, too, saying you would.

But this isn’t that and Jeongguk doesn’t ask. When it’s over, he tosses the condom and does a half-assed job of helping you clean up and he doesn’t ask. He splashes water on his face and fixes his hair and he doesn’t ask. He tucks his cock back into his briefs and zips his jeans and he doesn’t ask.

Jeongguk has one hand on the doorknob and he doesn’t ask you to come back. Instead, he asks, “How long are you gonna keep doing this?”

For once, you don’t have an answer.

[ the third. ] You go even farther away for grad school.

You try to put more distance between you and Jeongguk, more distance between you and all the skeletons in your closet, but you just pack them up in different boxes and bring them with you.

You spend New Year’s Eve chain-smoking in your parents’ back yard—that same brand of clove cigarettes, because hearts are easy to break but some habits are not. Sometimes it’s a comfort to hurt yourself in the same way you hurt others, so you chain-smoke and you don’t go to to Taehyung’s birthday party because you weren’t invited and it doesn’t sting in the same way that it doesn’t sting that Jimin doesn’t call you once you’re home because he hasn’t spoken to you in a year.

The clock ticks down to midnight. Someone sets off fireworks. Absolutely nothing changes.

There are no half-baked resolutions. There’s no hope that this is going to be the year you get your shit together. There’s just you and the bed you’ve made for yourself; the autopilot you can’t—won’t—turn off, because you don’t know where you’re going anyway so you might as well just go wherever it’s taking you. There’s guilt and there’s shame and there’s baggage, but they’re all old friends. Those are old scars.

The sweatshirt you’re wearing doesn’t belong to you, and it does little to protect you from the bitter cold that bites at your skin. Jeongguk doesn’t belong to you, either, but he keeps coming back to you like he does.

“Mind if I sit down?”

You shrug, gesturing to the empty chair beside you. The small fire you’d built is down to its last embers, and it’s what you focus on, because you can’t focus on Jeongguk anymore.

“You weren’t at Tae’s.”

“Wasn’t invited.”

“Oh,” he breathes. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I would’ve—”

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t have gone anyway.”

He seems to hear what you don’t say. I wouldn’t have gone because I can’t be around you anymore. I wouldn’t have gone because I don’t trust myself with you. I wouldn’t have gone because I’ve burned down every good thing in my life trying to keep you. “Oh. Yeah, that—that makes sense.”

He’d texted you. Asked if he could see you. Just wanted to talk, and you’ve never cared much for symbolism, but nearing midnight on New Year’s Eve had seemed as good a time as any to let it go, so you’d said yes. Now, when there isn’t much to say, all of Jeongguk’s flimsy excuses are laid bare. Transparent.

“Was Jimin there?”

Jeongguk nods. “You didn’t know?”

You shake your head. Feels like it’s made of concrete. “No. We haven’t talked since last winter break.”

“Because of—”

How cruel, that you’d confessed to Jimin instead of the one person who deserved to know. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shrug again. “It’s okay. I don’t think it’s permanent, just until I can get my shit together, I guess. Wasn’t fair to drag him into my mess anyway.”

“It’s not that easy,” Jeongguk says, and it sounds like something he wants to be true. It sounds like something he’s said countless times in defense of himself. “We’d—I’d do it if I could.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “of course.”

Silence creeps up again, so you dig another cigarette out of the pack and offer one to Jeongguk that he waves away. “Cloves? That’s a weird choice.”

“Just something I picked up along the way.”

He hears you again: They’re what she used to smoke. It helps me heal to hurt myself with something that reminds me of her. Sometimes I chain-smoke clove cigarettes and I don’t wash the smell from my hands, my clothes, my hair, because it makes me feel less alone.

So he asks, “Was it real?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you answer, flicking the wheel of your lighter, words spoken around the cigarette stuck between your lips. “It never had a chance. Not a real one, anyway.”

“Do your parents know?”

“Know what? That I went away to college and started fucking women?” Jeongguk shrugs. Has the audacity to look embarrassed. “What are you trying to ask me? You wanna know if I keep coming back to you because I’m scared to come out to my parents?”

“No. I don’t know. I just—”

The laugh that escapes you is scorched and bitter. Sounds the way the tobacco tastes. “No, Jeongguk. I keep coming back to you because I keep hoping you’ll ask me to.” I keep hoping you still want me.

“I almost did,” he admits, and you can hear how he swallows around the lump in his throat. “The first time.”

“When you were a dick about me sleeping with someone else? Yeah, okay. You didn’t want me back, you just didn’t want me to be with anyone else.”

He huffs. “How the fuck do you know what I want? You’ve never bothered to ask.”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” comes your response, stilted and practiced. “It doesn’t matter what we want, because we’re just going to keep hurting one another trying to get it right.” You suck in a breath, wipe furiously at the tears on your cheeks. “And we’re never going to.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Then ask.” Jeongguk startles, looks at you with wide eyes. “Ask me to come back for real, Jeongguk, and I will.”

A beat of silence.

Two, three, four.

Someone sets off another round of fireworks. A dog barks. It’s so cold that you can see Jeongguk’s breath each time he exhales, each time he breathes out instead of speaking. All the words he isn’t saying. And it’s exactly how you knew it would go, but it does nothing to tamp down the devastation in your chest.

You’d confessed your transgressions to Jimin and thought your silence to your ex-girlfriend was a gift, that it was sparing her the pain of what you’d done. Now you understand that someone’s silence can be the most vicious thing of all.

[ the last. ] Graduation looms. It’s the last winter break you’re spending at home.

Your therapist suspects you get your compartmentalism from your parents.

They don’t mention it. They see the stack of boxes and your bare bedroom walls and they don’t say a word about any of it. They watch you pack everything in your car and don’t offer to help. They process their grief silently, and when you can’t stand it anymore, you say, “I dated a woman my senior year of undergrad, you know.”

They don’t say anything to that, either, but it feels good to tell them. Feels a little like freedom and reclamation, like you can be who you are in front of others.

When you leave for good, you don’t want to repackage all those same skeletons.

So you meet Jimin for lunch and you take it in stride that everything is weird, that there’s nearly two years of silence to fill. You don’t ask for forgiveness and he doesn’t demand it of you, just asks if you’re doing better. “I’m doing the best I can,” you answer, and it’s human and honest enough that he accepts it with a warm smile.

Jeongguk is more difficult.

There’s no way to neatly box up that kind of baggage.

You’d intended to stop by his apartment to talk, tell him you aren’t coming back anymore. There’s nothing left here for you, you’d told him, and there was a flash of something. A there’s me, isn’t there? that had gone unsaid, destined for the same fate as a million other unspoken words between you.

Because there is him, but there’s also the way you’re desperately trying to claw back into something resembling normalcy. You’d lost yourself when you also lost Jeongguk, and you need to figure out who you are without him. You need to know who you are once you stop running and let your demons catch up with you. You need to hear what they have to say.

Maybe Jeongguk had said it best last year—“It’s not that easy. I’d do it if I could.”—because you’re nothing if not predictable and self-destructive.

You’re nothing if not naked and on your back beneath him, your fingers threaded through his hair as he rocks his hips into you, more tender than you deserve. His lips are ghosting along your skin and every press feels like a brand. Feels like he’s both making a mockery of you and declaring you ruined for anyone who might come after him. Feels like you’ll love him until you die.

(Some version of you must exist outside of Jeongguk’s grasp—outside of his orbit, his bed—but right now, as he twines your fingers together and pins them above your head, you can’t figure out who she might be.)

Eight months had been a long time to think of all the things you wanted to say, and four years is worse. Four years, and you still can’t bring yourself to ask him to try again, but there’s nothing after this, nothing to lose, so your voice is hoarse and raw when you say, “Jeongguk,” and he groans a little, nips at the column of your throat because he loves the way you say his name. “Jeongguk,” you repeat, because he senses the urgency, hears what you aren’t saying.

“Yeah, baby, say it. Whatever it is, tell me.”

He rolls his hips faster. Before, he would’ve tried to prolong the ending, but he’s hurtling towards it now. There’s nothing after this, you know, but you need the confirmation. You need to finally put all of this to rest. “I want to—” His cock strokes someplace that whites out your vision. “Fuck, want to—want you to come with me.”

He laughs, full of himself, probably smirking out the side of his mouth. “Keep squeezing me like that and I will soon.”

“No,” you insist, shocked at the conviction in your voice, “when I leave. Come with me.”

Everything slows. Jeongguk pulls back, moves his hands to cover himself, and there’s nothing but cold confusion in his absence. “What?”

“I didn’t ask you before. Last year. I just—I left it up to you, and you’re right, I didn’t ask what you wanted, but I didn’t tell you what I wanted, either. But I’m telling you now. I’m asking—”

There was never going to be anything after this.

Jeongguk’s silence says it all.

The way he pulls out and rolls you onto your stomach. The way he fucks as fast and as hard as he can. The way he used to love you openly and honestly and now holds whatever’s left close to his chest like it’s something to be ashamed of.

Someone’s silence can always be the most vicious thing of all.

Roll credits.

thank you so much for reading, and an additional thank you in advance if you decide to reblog my work. as always, my inbox is always open for any feedback! ♡

[mango-yoyo]

you have really good taste in fanfics in the tag game so was wondering if you would mind sharing so more of your favourites?

oh my god YES

i would love to thank you for asking <3

because i have no self control, i'm going to restrict myself to 3 5 10

1. the condominium community committee by @jusst-you-race . it's funny, it's light-hearted, and it has all the good feels. honestly it's the chat fic of chat fics, where the grid all lives in the same apartment building and have different lives, but are still super close! if you're feeling a bit down or if you want something fun, this is a great fic to read! status: WIP. word count: 28K+

2. crash landers by @janinaduszejko . carcar omegaverse my beloved, where oscar is an alpha and carlos is (secret) omega. a little bit angsty, a lot bit smutty, and overall delightful. it hurts a little bit, but it feels so good, and there's a happy ending! status: completed. word count: 57K+

3. i’m going back to 505 (if it’s a seven hour flight or a forty five minute drive) by julodinae_sunsets. another omegaverse (my weakness) but this time it's maxiel, where daniel is an alpha and tries to court max by accident, but stops himself because OBVIOUSLY max is an beta and doesn't want that. well. he's wrong. but second chances exist for a reason. it's really enjoyable so far, and it's made me grin stupidly way too many times, so. it's a win! status: WIP. word count: 19K+

4. Don't Want Your Sympathy (Just Your Company) by @1425fivefive . landoscar, where oscar is outed via blurry photos of him kissing another guy at the club. to get his mind off it, lando offers to have him stay at his place for the summer. a very cute teammates to friends to lovers, with a little bit of hurt but a lot of comfort. and smut. also, logan is best friend goals, honestly, and the little pockets of humor make you laugh when you least expect it. status: completed. word count: 64K+

5. Sunlight by @onboardsorasora . an absolutely delightful magical realism au (my other weakness) with a dewis pairing. they're one of the authors that got me into the pairing in the first place! people are touched by the elements in varying degrees. some people aren't touched, while others are touched by rare elements (like sunlight). daniel doesn't think he's touched by any. it's whumpy and a bit angsty but so, so sweet. honestly a lot of fluff too, with a sweet ending. status: completed. word count: 10K+

6. Loud and Clear by @oscatmeowstri . race engineer oscar with driver lando au, landoascar. it was wonderful. the formatting was so cool, and their relationship developed really well, from colleagues(?) to friends to occasional kissing buddies to lovers. some angst, but it's resolved pretty quickly, and there are lot of fluffy moments. status: WIP. word count: 48K+

7. cheap wedding (sticky pretenses) by @wormeo-and-juliette . i know i've mentioned the strollonso work by her before, but this is also so, so good. honestly, all her works have got me in a chokehold. it's lesteban, with a marriage of convenience (that eventual turns into love!). lance shows up in rural France, meets esteban, decides they're both lonely, and proposes marriage. absolutely delightful, and there's even the public coming-out which had me squealing. status: completed. word count: 12K+

8. champagne problems by @brocedesmadhouse . it's a love story to brocedes, and it's beautiful, heart-wrenching, and utterly amazing. toto gets replaced with a new team principal — who happens to be nico rosberg. it's set during the 2024 season, and it made me both cry and laugh — sometimes at the same time. absolutely wonderful. status: completed. word count: 60K+

9. empty streets, it's only you and me now by @the-ships-to-rule-them-all . intriguing and sweet, it's an exploration of Jewish folklore and golems, with sweet, sweet strollonso. lance has a golem, who happens to be incredibly protective of fernando. lance also happens to be in love with fernando. it's very cute and has the perfect plot-to-smut ratio. status: completed. word count: 5K+

10. k19tog (knit 19 together) by @nobrakesdown . really sweet and lovely, it's set in the 2022 season with seblance teammates. lance is a knitter, and seb convinces lance to teach him — and eventually, the rest of the grid. really heartwarming, and it has serious grid-as-family vibes that had me smiling like an idiot when I read it. also got me interested in the fiber arts, and it's really cool! status: completed. word count: 7K+

there are so many more fics that i could rec, but the sake of this post (and my need to study) i will limit it to just 10. please let me know how you like these recs, and feel free to rec for more (and if there are any particular pairings you're looking for)! this was a lot of fun, thanks for asking!

[bugs1nmybrain]

Okay, I decided to wake up and choose violence, so here goes? Imagine? Shigaraki with a pudgy kindhearted girlfriend (quirk or quirkless) that he absolutely loves so much🥰 The two of them have been dating Since he first assembled the LOV, (or before than?) So, after the fight against Re-Destro both Re-Destro and trumpet found out that Shigaraki has a girlfriend. The both of them were very, very bothered and disturbed by it, because they think that the idea of him having a girlfriend would just get in the way of his plans? and when Shigaraki here’s about all of the negative things that they’re saying about his beloved and he LOSES IT! Like completely lost it 😱 and Confronts them about their bullshit And put them back in their place. 

with all my heart - Shigaraki x Fem!Reader

First off, AMAZING PROMPT! I love when people perceive Tomura as a lovebug because he IS

warnings: a mention of sex but no smut, fem-reader with she/her pronouns, swearing, the writing isn't cohesive and is totally off topic at first, white-haired Shigaraki, ANGSTY backstory about their love, kind of fluffy!!, short story, not proofread and likely has typos

Throughout all of Tomura Shigaraki's efforts to bring hero society to its knees, there has always been a deep-seated emptiness within him. It became painful for him, so much so that he would dig himself completely raw before falling asleep at night. He hated it. Even when he made progress and advancements in his goals, he felt hallow.

Until you made him feel whole.

You two met right after he had gathered the League together, by a very casual encounter. Tomura was known to go on walks at night when he felt frustrated, and so while he was trying to process all that was happening and the wonders his group was going to pursue, he stumbled upon you at the park.

Sobbing, he heard. It was startling, and he almost wanted to leave. He picked you out, though, huddled on a bench and shaking with your phone in your hand. You were wearing a pencil skirt and some graphic t-shirt, with eyeliner streaming down your face, and surrounded by literal broken hearts. Tomura felt a tug at his heart, somehow. He didn't understand it, and hated how much dread he felt while looking at you. He didn't understand why he resonated with you so much then until he had fought Re-Destro and the memories of his past awoken.

When you looked up at him, he felt stuck. He didn't want to leave, but he also didn't know what to do.

All he could manage was a mumbled, "Hey."

You had been kicked out of your parent's house because they didn't approve of your so-called "lifestyle." That "lifestyle" consisted of wearing fashionable clothes, not meeting their expectations even though you tried extremely hard to be productive, and above all else- you hated hero society. They hurt you emotionally to the point that you had contemplated horrible things, only to be thrown out. A so-called "snowflake" in their eyes, but when Tomura listened to what you had to say, he told you to "let it snow."

The way you warmed up to him ignited a protective and playful spirit in him. He instantly offered for you to live with him, which was hasty, but it would soon blossom into a sweet and beautiful relationship between the two of you.

You've told him many times about how he "saved" you, and to that he tells you to shut up, but never maliciously. He knows deep down that he feels warmth knowing that he could offer you safety, in his own crooked way. You did the same for him, he'd argue. You stuck with Tomura throughout all of it; when AFO was arrested and they had to live dirt cheap, when he was insistent on beating Gigantomachia, throughout all his meltdowns and bad moods, you were there to hold him and let him just be. After a long day of taking a beating and destroying what he could, he came back to you, and you'd make him whole again. He loved you so much.

So to hear this bird-faced baldy and snob politician with a pedo-stash talking shit on you? He was not having that.

-

Shigaraki lingered outside Re-Destro's office. He had the door closed, but he could tell he was talking to Trumpet. Shigaraki was going to approach him about buying the League (and you) a night out to the casino, but he couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"I never even expected Shigaraki to be able to have a romantic partner," Trumpet comments, almost impressed. "I can almost guarantee she's with him because she feels that she has no other choice."

"Either way, she's slowing down operations. I don't mean to question the Grand Commander, but-"

"He comes to meetings, clicks his pen with a few "uh-huhs" unless he's the one talking, and when the meeting is over, she's right outside the door," Trumpet continues.

maybe if you guys talked about shit I cared about, things would be different

"He strolls off with her, giving her the attention that he should be giving to the cause."

"Not to mention, her quirk doesn't have any practical use. Nothing that would help protect the cause."

(Your quirk was a fascinating one, and multifaceted, actually. When you were feeling emotions of love and adoration, you produced bubbly hearts around you. Their color depended on the context of love you felt. However, your quirk had an added bonus! Which was that when you loved someone deeply, their quirk had no effect on you.)

(I guess you could consider this like Eraserhead's quirk mixed with La Brava's. However, this quirk wouldn't work for characters with external quirks like Explosion, Electricity, or Fire, because those are produced as a substance and not as an on-contact quirk. So for her, quirks like Tomura's would apply, but so could Brainwashing, Erasure, Toga's quirk (I can't remember the name), Zero-Gravity, etc.)

"Maybe we could find a way to get Shigaraki to focus on the real mission. Draw her away from him, and have her see his true colors, that way her quirk loses its effect.."

Oh he had heard ENOUGH now.

Some childish spite in Tomura wanted to decay the whole door down and say "listen motherfuckers," but he did things the adult way. Sort of. So he waited until their conversation was over. Trumpet started to leave and turned the doorknob to be abruptly faced with Tomura's "oh you've done it now" smile.

"Oh-jesu-"

"Grand Commander! What is it you need? Did your weekly payment go through? Any mistakes? Let me know and I'll fix it!" Re-Destro exclaimed, half-genuinely at his awe of Shigaraki, and half trying to throw a bandaid over what he knew Tomura had heard.

"Oh, you're going to have to do a lot of compensation for the bullshit I just heard," Tomura grumbled, trying to go with intimidation rather than attack.

"I-I don't understand!"

"Re-Destro..." Trumpet cringed, knowing that Tomura was on their asses.

"But you understand so much, don'tcha?" Tomura turns the other way to face Trumpet, too. "And so don't you? How about I give you two some grand advice and say this: mind your own fucking business and if you have a problem with my woman, you're going to have to tally your asses off because she's NOT leaving."

"I don't mean to impose Shigaraki. It's just that she takes up quite a bit of your time."

"And how many of us are there to be attending to all the dirty work? Mr. "I'm-going-to-hide-up-in-my-tower-while-my-people-go-after-the-big-bad League of Villains?" Yeah, I'm sorry that you two are some miserable geezers who have to pay to get laid, but I'm not cutting corners with Y/N because you guys have some sticks up your asses. Get the hell over it."

"I-I understand, Shigaraki!"

Trumpet began to roll his eyes and excused himself to leave, and was immediately startled with another face he did not want to see.

"Hi babe!" Tomura smiled wide with puppy eyes when he saw you standing in the doorway.

"Hi Tomura," you smiled back, tiny pink hearts popping around you. The two older men could immediately sense the "love-bird" energy between the two of you and felt annoyed. You practically tip-toed your way into the room and stood beside Tomura awkwardly.

"How'd you know I was here?" Tomura teased, brushing your hair out of your face. He gave zero fucks about PDA right now. They deserved the discomfort in his eyes.

"I saw you up the stairs when I was looking for you. I woke up and you weren't in bed."

"Sorry, baby, I should've told you before I left. I was just coming up to Re-Destro's office to ask him something," Shigaraki slied while averting his attention over to Re-Destro. "You know, y/n's been telling me about how she really wants a PC."

"Oh, is that so?" Re-Destro fake laughed.

You simply nodded shyly, feeling put on the spot, but knew full well what Tomura was doing. You had ironically heard what Tomura was saying to them right after he was eavesdropping himself.

"Yeaaa. She wants a really expensive one, too."

You actually had only wanted a pretty standard one; you were humble. This was Tomura just pulling some extra strings for you.

"Is that too much, Re-Destro?" Tomura pestered. Trumpet snuck out and had been long gone by this point.

"Of course not! Just tell me the price and I'll make it happen."

"Thank you," you said quietly, though you and Tomura both knew that was meant for him and not Re-Destro.

-

When you and Tomura left Re-Destro's office, you headed back to your shared room. Tomura held your hand delicately, thinking about what they said before about trying to make your quirk ineffective toward him. A part of him feared that happening since you started dating, and their comments only reinforced that anxiety for him. You squeezed his hand tight in realization and continued to snuggle up on him like a clingy cat.

"You know I love you, right?" Tomura mutters.

"I love you more, Tomu" you bubbled with an infestation of smokey hearts blowing in his face.

"Jesus! Haha, I guess so.." he smiles, waving the hearts out of his face playfully with an instant frown following.

"What's wrong, Tomura?"

"Nothing. I mean, I guess I'm just angry at them, for saying those things about you."

"I hope I'm not a distraction like they said."

"What? No! Don't ever fucking think that, please. I swear, if they ever tell you that you're getting in the way, or try to turn you from me, I give you full permission to kill them. Or come to me, I'll do it for you. I love you."

"I love you, too."

"You already said that, dummy."

"You said it too!"

"Fuck," Tomura cackles, pulling you in tight for a kiss. "Did you know that you're my comfort character, y/n?"

"Oh really?" you laugh.

"Duh. You're my favorite person, and...you make me feel warm? Which means you're stuck in this bed with me until I say you can leave."

"Aye-aye, Grand Commander," you obeyed sarcastically, hearts fluttering around you too as he pet your hair.

"Good girl. I'm not letting any bald-headed asshole try to take you from me."

"They couldn't do that, Tomura. I love you too much."

"You said it again."

"And I'll say it a thousand times more," you said, kissing his cheek tenderly as you continued to hold him until your brand-new PC arrived at your doorstep (under 24 hour shipping! Thanks Re-Destro!).

[heartfeltcierra]

Donquixote Doflamingo X Female Reader NSFW "Daydreams of Dressrosa"

Anon-I noticed you have a request box. I just wanted to say your writing is 🤌🏻 *chefs kiss*. I wanted to request something angsty and maybe even smutty with Doflamingo. I’ll let you decided if it end fluffy or not. I knows he is problematic and controversial as hell (I can fix him) But if you don’t write for him I completely understand! Thank you and have a amazing day my beloved heartfelt!

AN-So I totally took this and ran with it lmao. I just recently finished the Dressrosa Arc and I find Doflamingo to be a interesting character. This was a welcomed challenge for me. I've never written for a villian before and It's been a hot take since I've written smut. With that being said it's also the dirtiest thing I've ever written. I ran laps around my house just writing this. But thank you for reading my work and I hope you enjoy this my beloved anon :)

Masterlist

Side note- As always this story is plus sized reader friendly!

Word Count- 7.5k

*Any thing in italics is readers thoughts or a flashback. *

!Trigger warning! The relationship between Reader and Doflamingo is extremely toxic with emotionally abusive undertones, please never let anyone treat you like this.

~NSFW Warnings/Content~ Dom Doffy/Sub reader, PWP, Pre established situationship, A tiny speck of pet play, Doffy misuses his devil fruit powers (Spoiler alert he makes a clone.) Humiliation, Name calling (Slut, whore etc) , Reader is slapped once, Spanking, Degradation, Oral Sex (Fem giving and receiving) Fingering, Implied squirting and use of reward system. I tried to stay true to Doflamingo's character, but he may be OOC in some parts!

   From the moment you woke up to a quiet and peaceful palace, you immediately knew something was up. You asked one of the guards where everyone was and much to your surprise Doflamingo and the top executives have gone out to a meeting. And according to him,  they won’t be back until dark. It’s very rare for all of them to be gone at the same time, but you're thankful. It’s been a long time since you've had any alone time, so you were going to make every moment count. 

  You’re currently in the courtyard pool floating around on the huge blow up flamingo Doffy bought a while back. No one ever uses it considering most of the family have devil fruit abilities and aren’t willing to risk falling into the water. So you’ve laid claim to the giant pink float. You’ve even given it the nickname “Mini Master.” 

 “Now let’s get down to the real fun.” You smirk before pulling out a book from your favorite romance series called “Daydreams of Dressrosa: a collection of love stories from the kingdom of passion”. You read them in secrecy. The only other person who knows is Baby 5, her being the one who sneaks them to you. You knew if Doffy found out about them, he’d probably be pissed, saying something to the extent of “What can a book offer you that I can’t?” And the answer to that was simple. Romance and love. The two things he would never be able to offer you. It’s sad, but nonetheless true. 

 You open the book and turn to where you left off on story #17 titled “Carnivals and Carnations”. The couple in the story are going to a carnival as a first date. The story was super cheesy, but you're living for it. You squeal when the guy puts his jacket around the girl's shoulders because she is cold. It’s funny how something so simple causes your heart to swoon.  But your favorite part so far was him winning her a stuffed bear from one of the game stalls. You can’t help but think of Doffy doing something like that for you, no doubt you’d walk away with every stuffed animal and trinket you wanted. But how Doffy would win them is the part you find funny. He’d probably use his devil fruit ability to ‘Win’ (Cheat)  or he’d scare the person running the stall until they gave up everything. It brought a bittersweet smile to your face. The poor hopeless romantic in you still hasn’t accepted her fate. Once you got stringed in with Doflamingo, any chance of you experiencing sweet and innocent love was thrown to the wind. 

 You can’t help but be jealous of the girl in the story. When you were a teenager you dreamed about finding a man who would love you and treat you like a princess. Now here you are as an adult and plaything to a criminal. You knew he was bad, you knew he had done horrible things. But something about him lured you in. Tears trickle down your face and onto the pages below. You yearn for the impossible from him. But it’s Doffy, and he will do whatever he wants, when he wants and without even thinking about anyone else. You know this better than anyone. 

 ~Flashback~

 “Doffy, can I ask you a question?” You pulled your sore and sweaty body from the bed. Doflamingo was in the middle of putting his shirt back on,but stopped when he heard your hoarse voice call out.

 “Well would you look at that.” Doffy seemed to be amused, smirking at your trembling form. “My little girl didn’t pass out after all. I was almost certain you would, considering how hard I was on you.” You were on the brink of passing out from his rough treatment, but you clung to consciousness. “For that I’ll answer your question. Go on.” 

 “Well I guess it may be more of a favor, but.” Your mind and heart raced even more than it did earlier. All because of what you're about to ask him. “Do you want to shower with me and maybe we can cuddle together for a while after? I know you're busy and I won’t take up much of your time, just a few minutes I promise!” You watched Doffy’s smirk disappear, replaced by one of  his more disapproving looks, causing your heart to drop.

 “You want me to shower with you and stick around for “cuddles”?” You muster the strength to  nod at the man. His lips curled into a wicked smile before he laughed in your face.  “What a joke. Do you think I have time for something so stupid? Never ask for something like that again. Got it?” You couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down your face at his cruel words. His large hand reached out and grabbed your face, giving you no choice but to look at him. “Speak girl.”

 “Yes. I- I’m sorry Doffy.” Your cringe at how your words struggled to come out through the small sobs. Times like that reminded you how cruel Doflamingo was. Your heart shattered into a million pieces. 

 “Good.” He released your face and without another word, walked out of the room as if nothing happened. To him it probably was nothing. Your body fell against the bed as a few remaining tears slid down your face. Your hands snaked around one of the spare pillows on the bed, in search of the comfort you so desperately needed that night.

~Flashback end~

 It had been weeks since that night and not once has Doffy come to your room for a “session”. The more you think about it, the more uneasy you become. It’s unlike him to go that long without sex. Maybe he’s getting bored with you or maybe he’s getting it from someone else. Both of those thoughts stung. At the end of the day, you're just another woman at his disposal.

 You look into the sky and see the colors changing with the sunset. You didn’t have much time left before the family would return. A small sigh leaves your lips as you open your book again. Now where was I? The couple were now riding on a ferris wheel.  The man wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders, causing her to scooch closer to him. The ferris wheel came to a halt, leaving them at the very top. They admired all the lights and the way the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Their eyes locked onto each other. You can’t help but giggle knowing what’s about to happen. The man gently cupped her cheek as he slowly moved his lips towards her. Her eyes closed as his lips barely ghosted over hers. A small tug on the float causes you to close your book. Before you had a chance to investigate the cause, the float was pulled out from under you. Your body tumbles into the cold water alongside your book.

 “Fufufu~.” You hear Doffy’s muffled laugh as you swim back up to the surface. You cough up a little water you inhaled as Doffy continued to laugh. Judging from the way his fingers were bent, he was the one who knocked the float over. “Did the mouse have fun while the cat was away?” Your eyes roll at his snarky comment. You want to splash water on the cocky warlord, but you also want to live long enough to finish your book. Wait, the book! You frantically swim around the pool until you notice it sitting at the bottom of the pool. You take a deep breath in before diving to get it. You emerge once again holding the soaked book.

 “Well the “mouse” was having a fine day, until you destroyed its book.” You hold the book up and watch as the pool water drips from the pages. “And I was getting to the good part too.” You mumble the last part. 

 “Good part?” A wild smirk forms on Doffy’s face. With a flick of his left index finger the book was snatched from your hands and right into his. “What page was this “good part on”?” You watch as he skims through the book. 

 “112.” You swim over the edge of the pool and watch him read the page. For a man like Doflamingo, the scene will be underwhelming and quite boring. For a moment you think he was getting interested in the words, but it was short lived.  With a wet smack he closes the book and tosses it to the ground. You frown knowing the book will be unreadable by time the water sets in and blurs the words. I guess I’ll never know how it ends….

 “So that’s your definition of a good part?” You gave the man who was now towering over you a small nod. “When did my little slut become so vanilla?” Heat rises to your cheeks despite the cold temperature of the water around you.

 “I just thought it was cute. That’s all.” You let your body sink into the water in an attempt to avoid his gaze but your body stills. 

 “Trying to run away are we? Do I need to put you in your place Y/N?” You feel his strings loop underneath your arms. His left and right index fingers lift up causing your body to come out of the water in one motion. A shocked gasp leaves your lips as you fly out of the pool water and into the cold evening air. You sometimes forget that no matter how big you are, Doffy can and will treat you like a rag doll. You land rather ungracefully in front of the Blonde. Goosebumps rise onto your wet skin, but you're unsure if it’s from the cold air on your wet body or from the aura radiating off the man above you. 

 You peer into Doffy’s sunglasses and see your shivering body looking back. Your arms cross in front of your body in a sad attempt to warm up. You expect to see a sadistic smirk on his face, but you're met with an expression you’ve never seen on him. It makes you a little anxious not knowing what he’s thinking about or feeling. It dawns on you that he knows you read romance novels now, meaning he was most likely not very happy with you at the moment. 

 “I’m sorry If I upset you, Doffy. I promise I won’t read books like that anymore.” You try to diffuse the situation but it’s too late. His hand raises into the air. A sense of fear washes over you, causing your body to tremble even more. You feel a rush of wind in front of your face causing your eyes to slam shut. You tensed up preparing for the impact.. But it never came, instead the smell of his expensive cologne invades your nostrils as warmth engulfs your body. You let your eyes flutter open to see that he placed his pink feather jacket around your frame. It takes a while for your brain to process it. The cold, unloving and emotionally unavailable Donquixote         Doflamingo did something…. nice?   

 “Thank you young master.” He never lets anyone wear his jacket, NEVER. You wrap the jacket around your body more to enjoy its warmth. 

 “I was getting annoyed watching you shake like a pathetic little leaf.” He retorted with a scowl. “Now. Why don't I show you what a 'good part’ is supposed to be like.”  He points a finger at your neck, causing a string to connect to your flesh like a leash. He gives the string a firm tug, sending you to the ground on your knees in front of him. “Spread.” His commanding voice sends excitement through your veins.

 “Yes sir.” You move your knees apart as far as you can. The course ground below dug into your knees, but you didn’t care. As bad as you hate to admit to yourself, you’ve missed this and you’ve missed him. 

 “Good, now look at me.” You crane your head back in order to look up at him. Your body feels like it is shrinking as the10 ft tall man looms over you. Your mind goes blank when you feel the pointed tip of his shoe moving up and down your swimsuit covered pussy. “I’m going to cut you a deal so listen up.” His shoe puts extra pressure on your clit, causing a moan to escape your lips. “If you can be a good girl and do everything I say without question, I will give you a reward.” His foot retracts much to your dismay. But the mention of a reward entices you.

 “I will, I promise sir!” And just like that, you submit yourself to him. 

 “You will or else.” Doffy began to walk away leaving you to crawl behind him. You're thankful the steps he took were a lot smaller than normal, otherwise you’d have a hard time keeping up. It dawned on you how embarrassing the situation was. Here you are crawling around on all fours with Doffy’s jacket on. I probably look like a poodle. 

  You got lucky and didn’t run into any family members while Doffy paraded you around like the loyal lap dog you are. A couple of guards saw you, but they didn’t dare to say a word knowing Doflamingo would kill them on the spot. The door to your room was finally on site, but he walked past it. Your bedroom is the only place he agreed to do the deed in. It gave him the freedom to come and go as he pleased. You know better than to question him, but you're still curious as to where he’s taking you.

 “You’ll find out soon enough.” Doffy answers as if he read your mind. Much to your surprise you find yourself in front of the door to his room. In the time you’ve been with him, not once have you seen the inside of his bedroom. “Stand up.” The string on your neck beckons you to your feet. You wince as you stand up, knees throbbing due to all the crawling you’ve done.

 Doffy slings the door open and leads you in. The door clicks shut and the sound of the lock being turned echoes in the bedroom. His room was so big it made yours look like a mere closet. Your eyes land on the double king bed in the middle of the room. As you look at it, the only word that comes to mind is sin.  A blood red canopy surrounded the dark oak frame. The mattress itself was covered with a plush black duvet and luxury pillows. It was most definitely fit for a fallen angel like Doflamingo. 

 The string around your neck comes loose, leaving a ring of irritated skin in its absence. Doflamingo walks over to a red armchair that sat adjacent from his bed. He sat down and spread his long legs, giving you a perfect view of the hardening erection in his pants. With a devilish smile on his face, he beckons you over with a motion of his finger. Your body tingles with nervousness as you get closer and closer to him. You were only a few feet away from him when his hand came into the air, letting you know to stop. The same hand pointed a finger in the air and swirled in a circle. You nod and turn around to face the bed. A rush of air sends shivers down your body as the pink feather jacket was taken from your body, leaving you in your damp swimsuit. You turn your head and watch as the jacket drapes around the armchair Doffy sat in. 

 “Did I give you permission to turn around Y/N?” You whip your head back around to face the bed, causing Doffy to chuckle at your speed.

 “No sir, I’m sorry.” You hope your action didn’t piss him off enough to take your reward. 

 “I didn’t give you permission to speak either little whore.” Your body trembles at his condescending tone. “You're very lucky I’m in a good mood, otherwise you could have kissed that reward goodbye.” A wave of relief washes over you knowing it was still on the table. “Now strip and do not turn around for any reason.”  

 Your hands come up to the straps of your bathing suit. Slowly you pull them down your arms until your breasts popped out of the top. Your wet nipples harden immediately when they hit the cool air. Your hands come to your back to untie the knot, you struggle for a moment before it comes loose. With a wet ‘plop’ the garment hits the floor. You could feel your heart racing in your chest. You wanted this, you needed this. You take a shaky breath in and slide your hands down your curves until you reach the band of your swim bottoms. You curl your fingers around the fabric and bring it down until they fall around your ankles. You step out of the bottoms and kick them next to your top. You're now completely exposed to the heavenly demon.

 “Good girl.” Your body heats up at his praise. “Now bend over the bed.” You take a few steps forward and let your upper body fall onto the bed. You scooch back a little and spread your legs apart. “Spread yourself more.” You know exactly what he’s wanting you to do, and you're going to deliver. You slide your hands down your body until they reach the globes of your ass. Your fingers pull them apart, exposing your wet pussy even more. You wiggle your hips from side to side, showing him how needy you are for him.

 “What a dirty little girl, what will I ever do with you?” Your body tenses up when you feel something attach to your clit. A string? “Now I’m sure you're wondering why we came here instead of your room.” A moan leaves your throat when you feel the string moving your clit in small circles. You were so sensitive from being celibate for weeks, it took no time for your orgasm to start building. You hear Doflamingo let out an amused hum. “I can tell by the way your legs are shaking you're about to cum.” You have to hold back a scream as the string picks up the pace even more. 

 You dig your nails into the flesh of your ass in an attempt to ground yourself, but you are too far gone. Your hips start desperately swirling with the strings movement. Fuck it feel so good. But right before you could get your release the string retacts. Your head falls flat on the bed as tears of frustration form in your eyes due to the loss of your high. 

 “Can’t have that now, can we?” You don’t have to see Doffy’s face to know he’s wearing a shit eating grin. You should have known better than to think he’d let you cum this early. You hear him get up from the armchair. His loud footsteps reverberate in the room. You feel the bed dip as he hoovers above you. “Now as I was saying, the reason I brought you here is quite simple. Your bed is a little bit too small.” You feel his hot breath next to your right ear as he speaks. You wonder what changed? The size of your bed has never stopped him before. You tense up when you feel the bed dip on the other side of your body. Is there someone else here? “Too small for the both of us that is.” Your heart stops when you hear Doffy’s voice fill your left ear. It made no sense, how can he be on both sides of you at once? You try to lift yourself up, but a large hand keeps your face shoved into the mattress. 

 “Do you understand what’s happening now?” His voice fills your right ear again. You feel one of his hands wrap around your hair, pulling it back to leave your neck exposed. “I’ll give you a little hint.” Now it was back in your left ear. You feel hot breath on both sides of your neck before tongues lick up the sides in perfect unison. Rough hands grab your sides and with one quick motion your body was turned so your back was now on the mattress. 

 Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you see what’s above you. Your eyes land on not one, but two very shirtless Donquixote Doflamingo’s. They both wore the same lust filled expression. 

 “Two Doffy’s? How?” You mutter out in shock. Your nerves are on edge, one Doffy was enough to fuck you into a week long coma. But two of them? That would surely send you to an early grave. As Lao G would say “You’re a goner with a capital G!”   

 “While you were busy getting off on my string, I made a clone of myself.” The Doflamingo on your right spoke, meaning he must be the real one. “It talks like me, it can even use strings like me, but most importantly” Doffy pulls you up from the bed until your face is inches from his. “ It can fuck like me.” His tongue licks a wet stripe up your face. “But a slut like you should be able to handle us, right?.” You hesitate for a second, but nod your head in agreement.

 “Now let’s have a little fun.” Doffy’s clone spoke up, licking its lips. 

 “Sounds good. Hold the little slut up for me.” The clone nods and moves on the bed until it is behind you. Its strong arms hook under your thighs and brings you up until your back rests on its abs. 

 “It's almost pathetic how wet you are.” The real Doffy stole your breath by rubbing his fingers up and down your exposed slit. Your head slams back on the clone's hard chest when Doffy shoves two fingers deep into your cunt. The long digits rubbed along the top of your walls, paying attention to your sweet spots.  

 “Of course I’m wet. Don’t you remember making me fall into the pool sir?” You smile at Doffy innocently, but your bratty tone was anything but that. 

 “Is that it?” The dark tone in Doffy’s voice made you regret it instantly. And then you see the vein in his forehead pop out, you know you're in for it now. 

 “What a dumb whore you are.” The clone spoke before biting the side of your neck harshly, causing you to cry out in pain. “You are so fucked.”

 “Tell me you foolish girl, does this taste like pool water to you?” Doffy pulls his fingers from your dripping hole and shoves them in your mouth. You could taste your arousal as he shoves his fingers even further down your throat.

 “Aren’t you going to answer him?” The clone taunted before licking the bite wound it left. “I guess it’s hard to, considering your mouth is so full huh?” Your vision blurs with tears as you gag around Doffy’s fingers.

 “I’m going to take my fingers out. I suggest you apologize and beg for my forgiveness.” The fingers slowly begin to slide out. “Afterall, you want that reward, don’t you?” His fingers leave with a trail of your saliva. Coughs erupt from your throat as you catch your breath. Your mind has been so clouded over you forgot about the promised reward. 

 “I am very sorry sir. Please forgive me!” Your voice rasps out. 

 “That's all you got? What a lackluster performance.” Doffy grabs your cheeks and smooshes them together. “I’ll give you one last chance. Use it well, my patience with you is running very thin at the moment.” His hand releases your cheeks. 

 “Sir, please forgive me for being such a dumb brat. I’ll be a good and obedient cocksleeve the rest of the night for the both of you! So please use me until I deserve your forgiveness.” Tears are flowing down your face as you desperately beg him. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t take my reward from me..” You're unsure why you want the reward so desperately when you don’t even know what it is. 

 “That’s more like it. But I still think you need to learn your lesson.” Doffy's hand reared back before smacking you across the face. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to make it sting. “Now are you ready to be a good girl?” 

 “Yes sir.” You feel a few more tears fall down your face. Doffy’s hand reaches back out. You prepare yourself for another smack, but instead he wipes the tears away with his hand. 

 “Good.” You watch Doflamingo unzip his pants, freeing his hard cock. “Drop her.” The clone releases you so you fall, landing all fours. You feel the bed move underneath you as Doffy leans his body against the headboard. “Come over here and put that stupid mouth of yours to good use.” 

 You waste no time crawling in between his legs. You stick your ass up in the air and start licking him up and down. His cock twitches under your tongue as you lick the sensitive spot under his tip. You hear him grunt meaning he wants more. You give one last lick before wrapping your lips around him. His huge size stretches your mouth until it's borderline unbearable. One of his large hands thread through your hair before he slams into you. You do your best not to gag around him as he sets a rough pace. 

 “Her pussy is so wet, like it's crying for our attention.” The clone lands a harsh smack on your ass, causing you to yelp around Doffy’s dick. “See.” You feel its fingers run up and down your pussy before bringing its hand to show Doflamingo your glistening arousal. You feel a hard twitch in your mouth as Doffy grunts. He’s getting close. 

 “I’m going to cum and I expect you to swallow every last drop.” With a few more rough thrusts he fills your mouth full of his thick cum. You swallow every bit of it and stick your tongue out to prove it.

 “Where are your manners?” The clone grabs your hair and yanks your head back. “What do you say when your master gives you his cum?” The clone releases your hair so you can look back at Doffy. 

 “Thank you master.” You smile at him through lidded eyes. He let out a satisfied hum in response.  Although you're not able to see his eyes thanks to his sunglasses, you're certain they would have a glint of satisfaction in them.

 “Get her prepared for me. She’s going to need it.” The clone got to work right away by flipping you onto your back. It hooked your legs over its shoulders before licking a long stripe up your slit. 

 “A-AH~” Your hips arch off the bed as the clone starts to eat you out. Its tongue would swirl around your clit before diving deep into your cunt. You could feel pressure building in your lower abdomen already. “ F-fuck it feels so… good~ Your tongue is the best!” You feel the Clone smirk against you.

 “The best huh? So even better than the real one?” The clone gives your clit a harsh suck before looking up at you. “I’m flattered.” It landed a playful smack on your thigh before continuing its assault on your swollen clit. You throw your head back and notice the furious look Doflamingo was giving his clone.

 “Doffy wait I didn’t mean it like tha-” You cut yourself off as a wanton moan escapes your lips. The clone's tongue started stroking that spot deep within you that had your toes curling. “Right there please~ I’m gonna cum~”

 “I’ve had enough of this.” You feel Doffy’s body move from behind you. You whine when the Clones tongue leaves you right as you are about to peak. You bring your head up to see Doflamingo had joined his clone in between your legs. They were both gripping one of your thighs while giving each other a dangerous glare. Was he getting jealous…. of his own clone?

 “Well I haven’t, so back off.” The clone had no plans of backing down as it gripped your thigh tighter. 

 “Do you actually believe you're better than me? Have you forgotten that you're a damn clone?” Doffy clenches his teeth and grabs the clone around the neck. “I can make you go away with a snap of my fingers.” You hold in a laugh as you watch the two bickering. 

 “Well how about we settle this?” You watch as the clone pulls Doffy’s hand off. “Let’s see who can make her cum first.” An evil grin etches itself on Doflamingo’s face at his Clones proposal. 

 “Fine by me.” Doffy agrees as they both turn to look at you. You felt like conquerors' haki was being used on you the way your body froze to the bed. 

 They both start leaving kisses and bite marks down your legs. Slowly but surely they inched closer to the place you wanted them the most. Finally you feel their hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. 

 “Doffy.” You call out to the man himself, gaining his attention. “Please make me cum, only you can~” He smirks at you before his expert tongue starts lapping at your folds. It's very rare that Doffy eats you out, but when he does you're always left speechless. You wish you could thank the clone for pressing his buttons.

 “Don’t forget about me.” You feel the clone's tongue join Doffy’s. The two tongues fight for dominance as they lick every inch of your needy pussy. Your body vibrates from the sheer ecstasy you're experiencing. 

 One of Doffy’s hands snakes up your body to wrap firmly around your neck. You had no trouble figuring out which tongue was the real Doffy’s. Everytime he flicks your clit, he squeezes your neck as if to remind you who your pussy belongs to. 

 “I’m gonna cum~” Your hand grabs onto Doffy’s blonde hair as your body twitches.

"Your not needed anymore." Doflamingo pulls the clone away you before shoving two fingers deep into you. Your legs begin to shake as he syncs the pace of his fingers and tongue together. The perfect harmony of pleasure was driving you even closer to the edge.

 “That’s not fair.” The clone attempts to reclaim his spot between your legs, but was quickly shut down.

 “Have we ever been known to be fair?” With a snap of Doffy's fingers, the sound of string unwinding mixes with your moans. The clone had a scowl on its face before it disappeared. His fingers pick up the pace causing you to grip his hair tighter. “Be a good little girl and cum for me.”

 “Fuck~” Your body quivers as your overdue orgasm crashes over you. Doffy’s tongue detaches from your clit, but his fingers begin to rock up and down harder. You try to fight the urge to let go, knowing what would happen if you do. “Stop Doffy, I’m going to make a mess!”  Your warning came too late as your second orgasm washes over you, causing clear liquid to gush out of you. 

 “I win. Now to claim my prize.” Doffy places his fingers in his mouth and sucks your juices off them. It's hard to lose when you get rid of your competition. “Get on your hands and knees, now.” 

 You miraculously get yourself into the position he wants. Your hands shake trying to hold your worn out body up. Stay focused Y/N, don’t pass out. You hear the familiar sound of a condom being opened as the bed dips. One of his hands ghost up your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its path. The same hand wraps tightly around your hair as he bottoms out in one motion. He stays pressed up against your cervix for a few minutes, letting your walls stretch and relax around him. You move up and down his length, letting him know your ready.

 The pace he sets is rapid and ruthless. His cock effortlessly hits all of your sweet spots with every thrust. The blinding pleasure was starting to build up all over again. Your hands shook violently on the bed, you know they are going to give out any moment now. 

 “Are you struggling?” Doflamingo deep voice whispers in your ear. “Want your master to help you?” You weakly nod your head. Doffy’s free arm hooked under you, bringing you off the bed until your back was flush against his chest. He bottoms out again and continues his relentless thrusts. The new position gave him full control over your body, leaving you completely at his mercy. 

 The hand that was in your hair moved down until it stopped at one of your neglected nipples. He rolls the bud between his thumb and index finger before pinching it hard. You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. He then moves to the other nipple and gives it the same treatment. 

 “It feels so good.~” Your hand goes down to play with your clit but Doffy stops you.

 “Not so fast little girl.” He switches the position to where he is laying on the bed with you on top. “You're being so selfish, making me do all of the work.” His thumb starts circling your clit causing you grind down on him. “As a matter of fact you’ve not only selfish. You’ve been disobedient, bratty and you even went as far to say that stupids clone tongue was better than mine. You don’t deserve that reward, not even in the slightest.” His cold tone causes you to halt your movements. Something about it struck a chord deep within you. 

 “I’m sorry Doffy.” It hurt knowing he was so disappointed in you. You feel your mood declining. All the dopamine and adrenaline that coursed through your body had finally run out, leaving you emotionally vulnerable.  

 “I’m not finished talking yet, so stop crying and listen.” You were unaware of your tears until he mentioned it. You watch as his hand comes up to his sunglasses. He inhales a deep breath and pulls the glasses off. You bring your hands up to cover your eyes. No one has ever seen his eyes, not even Trebol has. “Look at me Y/N.” Slowly, you drop your hands. Your eyes connect with his. His right eye was ruby red, while his left eye was white and foggy. 

 “Doffy.....Your eyes are beautiful. But why? Why did you show me?” You look at him in awe. 

 “I can’t even answer that myself.” He sighs and runs a hand through his blonde locks. “It doesn't matter anyways. You still want that reward?” 

 “Yes, I do.” You were starting to think him showing you his eyes was the reward. 

 “Make me cum and it’s yours.” He crosses his arms behind his back. Out of everything you and him have done tonight, this was by far the most intimate.

 You slowly start going up and down his length. Every fiber in your body was screaming at you to stop, but the desire to please the man below you was louder. The lewd sounds of your body's connecting fill the room once more. You pick up the pace as you chase your high. Doffy’s hands reach out and grab onto your plush hips. His grip was getting tighter and tighter, causing your hips to roll and grind on him.

 “Fuck.” Doffy curses. One of his hands leaves your hip and moves to wrap around your neck. “Tell me, who does this pussy belong to?” 

 “My master.” You cry out as the grip around your neck tightness.

 “And who is your fucking master.” He brings your head down so your eyes meet his. 

 “You!” Tears of pleasure rolled down your face. “Donquixote Doflamingo!” You cling onto consciousness as you meet your final orgasm. Doffy follows you as he slams against your cervix. You stay still until his cock softens inside you. Slowly you lift yourself off him. Your body collapses on top of him the moment he is fully out of you. You know he is not a fan of skin to skin contact after sex, but you were too weak to hold yourself up.

 “Doffy.” You muster enough energy to lift your head. “Did I do a good job? Are you going to give me the reward?” Your vision was starting  to go in and out. 

 “Yes, I suppose you did.” A weak smile forms on your lips at his words. 

 “Good.” Your head falls back down on his chest. ”That makes me so happy.” Your eyes close and despite your efforts no to, you black completely out.

~While you were knocked out~

 “How amusing.” Doflamingo snickers at your worn out body splayed on his. “You put all that effort in for a silly reward, just to pass out before you're able to indulge in it.” He lifts your body off of his and lays you gently on the bed. He puts his sunglasses back on and calls a maid in.

 “How can I help you young master?” The maid was blushing ear to ear seeing the state you and him were in.

 “Go get something for Y/N to sleep in from her room and change the sheets. I do apologize, it’s my fault they got a little wet.” The maid's cheeks got even darker at his declaration. Doflamingo picks your limp body from the bed and makes his way over to the bathroom. “And if you tell anyone about this, I will cut your head off and send it to your family. You may go now.” 

 “Yes young master.” Her voice wavers with fear. With a bow she leaves the room.

 Doffy turns his shower on, letting steam fill the room. He sat you down on the shower bench so he could clean himself. After giving his body a good scrub down, he picks your body up and places you under the warm water. He leans your body against his and begins to massage shampoo into your hair. After rinsing the suds out of your hair, he poured shower gel into a washcloth and started to lather it into your skin.

 “You're missing out young lady. I’m even using my expensive soap on you~” No response. Doffy rolls his eyes and continues to rinse your body off. He turns the shower off after he deems you squeaky clean. He sat you back down on the bench so he could dry himself off. He threw on a pair of silky pink boxers and then got to work drying you off. 

 He picks you up and takes you back into the bedroom. The maid had laid your clothes out on the freshly made bed. Doffy grabs the night gown and places it over your body. He never in a million years would have thought about pampering a woman like this. But yet here he is.

 “I normally only take these off of a woman, but I guess I’ll make an exception just this once.” He grabs your panties and rolls them up your legs. He admires the small pink flamingo that decorates them. “I’ll have to buy you more of these.”

 He pulls the duvet down and places you under it. After turning the lamp off he joined you in the bed.

 “Baby 5……” You mumble in your unconscious state. “If you go out, get me the latest copy of “Daydreams of Dressrosa”. And don’t let Doffy find out.” 

 “I’m not Baby 5 and I already know you read those silly books you insufferable woman.” Doffy whispers in your ear and as he expected you don’t respond. 

 Doflamingo has never been one to fall asleep easily, normally he reads a book or ponders his next heinous act. But tonight he finds himself watching your sleeping form. The moonlight that peeks through the curtains casts an ethereal glow on your face. “Do you want to shower with me and maybe we can cuddle together for a while after?” He recalls your request from that night. You have technically already showered together, even though you weren't awake for any of it. Which was of course your (Doffy’s) fault. Now it was time to fulfill the last part of your request.  His arm hooks around your midsection and pulls you so your head rests on his chest.

 His arm wraps around your back keeping you snug against him. He’d never openly admit it to you, but he was enjoying this. From the way you snuggled closer to him, to the way your body molds perfectly with his. Like you were made for him. Because you were made for him. He has never been one to keep the same woman around for long. He viewed women how children viewed toys. They are fun for a little while, until something more fun comes along. But not you. You're different from the others who threw themselves at him. He of course finds you very attractive, but there was something else that allured him more. 

  You are truly like his loyal lap dog. No matter how much he neglects you and no matter how many times he metaphorically “kicks you”, the moment he sticks his hand out you come running to him with that dopey smile plastered on your face. You're so hopelessly devoted to him and he loves it. You can’t live without him, he knows that. But a small part of him feels the same way towards you.

 “I think I’ll keep you around. For now at least.” 

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

 Your body stirs awake when you feel something tickling your ear. You search for the cause only to hear light snores coming from above you. Slowly you raise yourself from the bed to see the source of the snores was coming from none other than Doflamingo. You bite down on your lip in order not to laugh. It was so funny to watch a man so powerful and scary snoring.  He was still human after all. One particularly loud snore causes a giggle to escape your lips. You slam a hand over your mouth and pray he didn’t hear. 

 “Mind telling me what’s so funny?” It was too late, the beast was already lifting up from the bed.

 “It’s nothing Doffy, you were just snoring.” You press your hands against his chest urging him to lay back down. “I’m sure I’ve overstayed my welcome, I apologize. Sleep well young master.” You scooch yourself off the bed only to be pulled back by a strong arm. He brought you back down to his tone chest and wrapped his arm back around you, caging you to his side. Butterflies erupt in your stomach from the gesture. You lips form into a wide smile as you enjoy the warmth he provided.

 “I don’t snore. And you're fine right where you are. This is your reward after all.” You feel his hand draw soothing shapes into your back. I must be dreaming.

 “If that’s the case, I really like my reward. Thank you.” Your eyes travel up to meet his. You were on cloud 9 and the huge smile on your face proved that. He rolls his eyes at you before slamming your head back down. “Can I request one more thing?” You muffle out into his pecs.

 “Well, aren't you a greedy girl? What is this request of yours?” You feel your heartbeat pick up. You hope this doesn't go south like last time. 

 “Will you please kiss me? I’m grateful for everything you’ve given me and I-.” Your cutoff when his lips connect with your. It catches you off guard, but you slowly melt into it. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Thankfully he pulls away before it gets too heated, you doubt your worn out body could go another round.

 “Satisfied?” You meekly nod before laying back down on him. “Good, now go back to sleep.”

 “One more thing.” You hear him groan out in response. “Now that I’ve seen your eyes, are you going to kill me?” The room fell silent before he started laughing.

 “Perhaps.” You don’t know what worse, the fact he’s laughing about it or not knowing if that perhaps was a joke or not. “Now go back to sleep or I may actually off you.” That time you could sense he was kidding. He was kidding right?

 “Yes sir.” And with that you fell back asleep in his protective hold.

 ~The morning after~

 You woke up alone in Doflamingo’s ginormous bed. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll off of the plush mattress. Judging from the amount of sunshine that filled the room, it was very late in the morning. You stretch your arms over your head and let out a satisfied hum.

  Your eyes scan the room and stop on a large tray of sweets sitting on a table. After last night activities, you've worked up a appetite. You walk up to investigate the confections and notice a couple books stacked neatly beside it. You jump up and down when you realize the books are the latest volumes of “Daydreams of Dressrosa”. And they were all signed copies! There was even a copy of the book that was destroyed in the pool yesterday.

 “What page was I on again?” You open the book and skim through the pages until you find a pink feather marking page 112.

 Unknown to you, a certain warlord watched you with a rare, but rather pleasant smile on his face.

~End~

[askinkiskarma]

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀𝕀: 𝕀 𝔸𝕞 𝕃𝕠𝕤𝕥, 𝔹𝕦𝕥 ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕀𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: in order to fulfil your revenge plans on Neteyam, you have to give up a lot of your life, including a future with a man who loves you dearly.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (@lanasblood trying to be better about this), smut (fingering, orgasm denial), strong language, neteyam and reader being horrible to each other lol

wc: 6.5k words

a/n: things are starting to get spicy besties 😌 i have to admit, although i am a lot more comfortable with friends-to-lovers, or more angsty tropes, i adore writing the sexual tension that comes with e2l and i hope i did it justice and you enjoy this chapter. i can't wait to hear your thoughts, bbs and thank you again for all the love and support on this series xx (thank you very much also to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art ily bestie x)

this is only half proof-read, so if you see any mistakes no you don't

na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, Tsakarem - Tsa'hik in training, tìlor - beauty, txepvi  - spark

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

In a perfect world, I'd kill to love you the loudest But all I do is live to hurt you soundless Say you see I'm lying, babe, and let this go I can never promise you tomorrow

The departing footsteps echoed through the forest as O'ì'en left you all alone, with a broken heart and the man that broke it, and the feeling left you empty, the hurt of what transpired, of what he did, what you did, how with each passing blow to each other’s lives, this was no longer just a petty rivalry but felt like so much more, like too much more. You threatened him, you spit all sorts of petty warnings about hell and burning - and in the heat of the moment, that sounded cool, and doable. Not anymore, as you stood motionless in the clearing and realised that Neteyam still had so much power over you, that his grasp on your life and on your heart was so tight, tighter than anyone else’s, tight enough to bruise and crush it with a tug of his fisted fingers. You removed yourself from his grasp like his touch burned you, which it felt like it did, and put distance in between your bodies, so that you could see him, so that you could clear your mind, so that his presence wouldn’t have the effect on you it always did, that you were sure was just your body recoiling in hatred, that always manifested itself in goosebumps and shivers down your spine. 

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” The tears stung as you willed them back into your tear ducts. It’s been 7 years since Neteyam has seen you cry, and you’ll be damned if that would ever change, and especially right now, as you watched the smirk grow with every departing step, with every erratic blink of your eyes, as you tried to stop them from falling down your face, as he knew he got to you, that he made you pay for the words you uttered to him before. 

“Oh, yawne. One day you’ll learn to not punch above your weight, and I guess since no one else is willing to, it falls onto me to teach you.” He walks slow, purposeful steps as he nears you once more, and his eyes boring into you, filled with intensity and a feeling you couldn’t quite place, that didn’t quite match the arrogance staining his lips like poison, stilled you in your spot, until he was so close, you could feel his warm breath and musky scent, until your heart boomed painfully in your chest, echoing loudly in your ears, marginally drowning out his next words. 

“Did you really think you could threaten me and everything I’ve worked for, my relationship and the rest of my life, without any repercussions, huh? Did you really think I would go down without a fight?” 

His hand raised and reached to push some unruly strands of hair out of your face, and you couldn’t look away from the soft glimmer in his eyes, that was so at odds with the rest of his face, you wondered if he even knew it was there. You wondered if he knew what it signified, because you didn’t. And despite your best efforts otherwise, you couldn’t deny the curiosity that deluged you, to try and find out.

The hint in his molten golden orbs dissipated as quickly as it appeared, and so did any middling emotion that tried you, as you once more found yourself reaching for your knife and unsheathing it, holding it in between both your hands, aiming for a shoulder… or a neck, and with a feral growl, you pushed your entire forced into the blow, and yelped in pain as one of his hands wrapped around both your wrists and twisted until the knife dropped pitifully on the ground with a loud clink. Tears threatened you once more at how futile the effort had been, how easy for him to overpower you like you were nothing more than a child, or a doll. He pinned your hands above your head and pushed you until your back collided with the bark of a tree and you felt the wind getting knocked out of your lungs at the contact. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… why must you always resort to violence… yawne?” Your eyes widened as the hand that wasn’t holding you ghosted over your cheeks, tracing the air right above your lips with his thumb, and you were struggling, yet again, with the feelings that were plaguing you, that made burning appear everywhere his fingers were, burning the travelled down your body until they reached your core, that throbbed and clenched, that desperately asked you for something you would never, ever give it. After exploring your face, and tracing your jaw, his fingers finally settled on your chin, pushing it gently until your face angled upwards to meet his and no further breath could inch its way down your airways at the sight of him, at the way he looked at you, at the way it made you feel. 

“You told me that you won’t mind burning in Hell as long as I burn with you. Well…” he broke eye contact to look around him at the forest surrounding you both. “Do you hear that, yawne? Fire is catching. And looks like we’re going to get to burn together after all.” 

“Let me go. I told you what would happen if you ever touched me again.” His smirk never faltered, but only deepened as his eyes trailed over your body, settling on your lower abdomen. 

“Mmm, yawne. I’m not sure you mean that.” It was your turn to reciprocate his guise, no ounce of shame or hesitation on your face.

 

“Let me go and you’ll find out whether I mean it or not.” his eyes widened, if only for a split second, and you felt like you imagined his grip on you loosening, or the fleeting sight of goosebumps peppered on his chest and neck, where your warm breath touched him. 

“Are you really going to miss your chance to find lover boy and apologise like the good girl you like people to think you are?”

Your eyes lost momentary focus as he spoke. His words, although as cruel as usual, made guilt peak its ugly head over the thin-veiled curtain it was hiding behind, and you knew he was right. This was irrelevant. This whole fandangle of aggression and snarky remarks you always engaged in was not what should be occupying your brain, it wasn’t what mattered. O'ì'en mattered. Fixing Neteyam’s damage… and your own - that’s the only thing that mattered right now. 

“Funny how quickly you seem to have forgotten about the one you supposedly love so much when I have your hands pinned above your head, isn’t it… yawne.”

His hands trailed over your arm as if on accident as he let you go and you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at his words, at his effect on you, at how hard you were fighting your own body and mind as they were struggling to regain composure from his touch, and his voice, and his presence.

Hate. That’s all it was. It consumed you, and you wish it didn’t, but at the end of the day, it was still just harmless, bona fide, unadulterated hate. You ignored the way your cheeks caught fire and burned beneath your skin as you ran towards the village, towards where you assumed O’i’en was headed, without sparing your biggest, your only enemy a second glance. 

'Cause I have yet to learn how not to be his This city will surely burn if we keep this as it is

You spent hours searching for him, but despite trying every place you knew he liked to frequent, all efforts proved futile. You knew he wouldn’t want to be found, but still, you held a glimmer of hope in your heart that at least subconsciously, he’d want you to find him, to allow him to explain what was mostly inexplainable and inexcusable - you couldn’t blame him for proving you wrong.

Eventually, as eclipse was nearing with each passing moment, defeated and regretful, you went to the nearby river, that was almost deserted due to the approaching evening, that you hoped would bring you some answers, or some solace… some strength. What were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to listen to Eywa, and your own heart telling you to go for this mateship that you knew was wrong, but felt drawn towards, for your own twisted, sadistic reasons? Or should you listen to your mind who told you to fight for what you knew would be a comfortable, healthy future, one that didn’t particularly enthral you, but hoped you could aspire to and embrace in time, with the insight that came with getting older? As always, the war between your mind and heart led to a painful impasse where both of them were bloodied and injured, but no discernible winners were left to claim victory on the choice, or on all the questions that plagued you. 

You recognised Jake’s steps and his scent as he approached you, and you sighed. You were not in the mood for a lecture. Sure enough, he sat next to you, looking at the waterfall falling violently into the otherwise peaceful river, that rippled and bruised at the contact. It was funny to you now, sitting here, how that was a perfect metaphor for your relationship with Neteyam, how in his presence, you were just a river, and he was a force of nature, there to disturb and perturb, there to change you, so aggressive and formidable, and so strangely necessary. You were sad at how much his presence in your life mattered, how you knew that despite all the hurt and the pain, you owed him so much of who you were, so much of where you were. Because he pushed you every day, to be better, to strive for more, to want to be more like him in some ways, less like him in others - a better daughter, a better friend, a better sibling, a better soldier, a better warrior, a better clan member. 

“Hey, kid. What are you doing here, eclipse will be upon us soon. You know the rules.”

“I know the rules, Jake. And with all due respect, right now, I really couldn’t care less about them.”

You turned to him and noted his expression melting from one of annoyance, raised eyebrow and an open mouth, ready to chastise you for your insubordination and recalcitrance, into a soft and pitying one, as he took in your tear-stained face and trembling lips. You never cried, not in front of anyone who mattered, so the fact that here you stood, so obviously distressed, concerned Jake more than he could say out loud.

“What’s wrong, baby girl? What happened?” 

“I… I need to find O'ì'en… I’ve been looking for hours, but I can’t find him. Have you seen him anywhere?” Your sniffles and a hoarse, broken voice were more than enough to bring a grimace to the Olo’eyktan’s face. 

“Oh, honey…” his arms circled your much smaller body and he squeezed, the much needed hug warm and very welcome. Your hand tightened around his forearm, and you started sobbing silently as he held you. You’ve always been immensely grateful for the Sullys and their patriarch, but especially so in moments like this, when his paternal instincts kicked in, a role he was much better at than he ever gave himself credit for. 

“I ruined it… I ruined everything. I should have told him, I should have been honest with him. I should have come to you and asked you to free me of this responsibility that I never wanted to shoulder in the first place.” 

“You can still ask, kid. We would never force you into something you genuinely aren’t comfortable with, and you should know that. In fact, you do know that. But you didn’t come. Why?” 

You had no answer to that, because truthfully, you didn’t know. Getting revenge on Neteyam wasn’t a good enough answer, and more and more, you realised that - and you knew Jake would challenge you on it as soon as the words came out of your mouth. Getting revenge isn’t a good enough reason to sacrifice your own happiness, and liberty, your future as a warrior and your future with the man you wanted to want so badly. It wasn’t a good enough reason because it wasn’t the reason - not the only reason, not the full reason, but that was something you couldn't think about, you couldn't even fathom, not yet, so you didn't.

At your lack of response, Jake sighed and looked contemplatively at the river being perturbed by the waterfall crashing on it, at the way the water rippled and undulated, at the way the bioluminescent glow of the underwater plankton, that was visible now that eclipse settled over the land, warped under its force. 

“Did I ever tell you I had this girlfriend back on Earth? This was when I was young, about your age.” You shook your head softly, not looking at him, still focused and mesmerised by the same view he was studying. 

“She was amazing. So kind, and sweet, and beautiful… and good. Too good for me. And I loved her. She was the first girl I looked at and thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be the one. I used to pick her up after her classes were over and we would just drive in my car, just down the coast, in Anaheim at sundown, and I remember feeling so happy, thinking that I would feel this way the rest of my life.” 

You thought about that, and about your boyfriend, who very much seemed like what Jake was describing, who brought you comfort and safety. You thought about walking with him in this place Jake called Anaheim, in a heavenly place away from hurt and pain, away from mistakes and fears, just two people who loved each other, who wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. You felt grief envelop you when the face that appeared in your visions wasn’t the one you wanted to see, the one you hoped you’d see, the one you needed to see. You hated your brain and your heart for not allowing you to commit to him the way you knew you should, in the way that would ensure you a future of happiness and peace, a love worth harbouring, a pure and kind love, just like the one Jake described. 

“What happened? Between… you and her, I mean?” Jake shrugged, a small, content smile on his face. 

“It just didn’t work out. I joined the military, she continued her studies. We would have never worked. I wasn’t good enough for her, and she deserved someone who could love her the way she was meant be loved. Anaheim is still a beautiful memory to me, and I’ll always cherish it, but it made way for something much, much better. For both of us.

I think sometimes we hold on to things we think we need, we want to want, but these things pertain to a version of ourselves that isn’t fully authentic. I think it’s easy to pretend when we’re with certain people that life is one way, that we could fit in it, in this world we’ve created in our heads, in the world that they inspire, but the sooner we accept the realities of our circumstances, of who we are and where we truly belong, the more time we have to enjoy life for how it’s meant to be lived: fully, wildly, being wholly ourselves.” 

He stood up and headed back towards the village, not before giving you an affectionate pat on the head and a squeeze of your shoulders. His last words echoed in your ears long after he departed, leaving you with so much to think about, and so much pain at knowing he was right, and that soon, you’d have to break a heart and learn to mend your own.

“You can still ask, kid. I just think, deep down, Anaheim isn’t for you… just like it wasn’t for me.” 

But I'd give anything to stop time And drive around Anaheim at sun down And teach my mind to put you first

It took the whole night, but you eventually found him, after a painful conversation with his mother, at a different river he used to love coming to as a little kid with his father, one much further away from the village. He was sitting on the river bank, lost in thought, his feet dangling mindlessly in the water that rushed downstream, agitated and tumultuous, much like your mind. You sighed deeply, trying your hardest to build up the courage for the most difficult conversation you’ve ever had, one in which you knew the end result was a broken heart, one that you caused, that you never meant to, that you would never want. You knew what it was like to be broken-hearted, sad and unmoored from the reality you’ve built up in your mind, from your hopes and dreams, from the future you were promised and now will never have again. But after the conversation with Jake, you knew it was the right thing to do. You loved O'ì'en, you truly did, just not enough to ever give him everything he needed and deserved, not for the rest of your life. You had darkness in you he would never be skilled enough to wander through, to bring light into, and you would never want him to try, not when it would dim his own light, that deserved to be nourished and heightened by someone, who much like him, was good and pure, and better than you’d ever be. 

“O'ì'en…” 

He wasn’t startled by your presence. His gaze didn’t shift from where it was intently fixed, and you knew you shouldn’t expect that it did. You wouldn’t want to look at yourself, either. 

“You know, I watched for so long the interactions between you and Neteyam, and they always made me sad and uncomfortable. The hatred that I could not understand, that seemed to occupy so much of your time and space in both your minds, that consumed you both. I watched it, and I wanted to say something, but I never thought it was my place. It hurt me, seeing you suffer at his hands, and hurt me that you always reciprocated, that you never took the high road, that you always felt the need to one-up him, to give as good as you got. It was so toxic and unhealthy, and I hoped in time, you’d move away from it. I hoped I could help you. But now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, not anymore. And I don’t know if I want to.” 

Tears rolled down your face with every word uttered, with every sentence that cut deeper and deeper in you, until you were bleeding and bruised, until it all hurt, being here, seeing him, hearing him, the past and the future, the present and your actions, and Neteyam’s actions, and everything that lead to this moment. It was so much easier to get your heart broken, you realise faintly, than to break a heart. Heartbroken, you could pity yourself, victimise yourself, tell yourself and the world that it’s not you, but the other person, the one who instigated it. You can sleep at night knowing you were wronged, that if it wasn’t for the pain that someone else caused you, things would be different, easier. There was nothing easy about watching a good person suffer and knowing you caused it, and you wondered how you were ever going to fall asleep again, how were you going to be able to live with yourself. 

“I didn’t choose this, O'ì'en… any of this. I need you to know this. Mo’at asked us to come to her as a matter of urgency the other day, she told us that Eywa gave her a sign, showed her a vision, and that by her will, Neteyam and I will have to become a mated-pair.” You felt bad about leaving out certain… extenuating circumstances, but you realise that sometimes, certain things are better left unsaid and once some words are uttered, some actions taken, they can’t be recalled, they can’t be reversed, they won’t dematerialise - their echoes will forever ring through time, leaving damage and hurt in their wake, and you didn’t want that - not for him. 

“Have you told her you don’t want to? Have you gone to the Tsa’hik, or the Olo’eyktan, or the Tsakarem and talked to them, told them you are in love with someone else, that you made up your mind? Did you fight for us at any point? For me?” 

Your eyes widened at his words, that had an edge to them you’ve never observed in him before, that you didn’t even realise he was truly capable of. The words stung needles on your skin and in your eyes, that had prickling tears still falling uninterrupted, like summer rain, soaking your heart and soul that hurt because you knew that you couldn’t give him an answer that would satisfy him… you couldn’t give him an answer at all. 

“They look at you like you’re their daughter. They would listen to you if you asked. But you didn’t, did you?” 

“I once overheard Lo’ak talk about you and Neteyam to his human friend. He was concerned about you. About both of you. But aside from that, he talked about you two like you were an inevitability. About passion that ran so deep there was no way only hatred fuelled it. That there must be something underneath it all. I heard this and it made me angry at the time… I thought that he was unreasonable and out of line. Naively, I took your affection at face value and never looked beyond. Until now, that is. When I realised that in our time together, all the time we shared, all the moments that were sweet and innocent and everything I’ve ever wanted, you’ve never once shared even a fraction of that passion for me.” 

“O'ì'en, no…” 

“I think, deep down, you don’t want to get out of this because it’s finally a way to bridge the gap that has existed between you and Neteyam for so long, a gap you secretly wished had never existed. I think you’ve been in love with him since you were children, and this was the perfect opportunity to change a path you thought was set in stone before. I think he’s in love with you, too. But both of you are too mean, too stubborn with each other to see past your differences. To talk.” 

“You’re wrong.” The temper was rising in your chest as his head continued shaking, denying your statement, as his words were processing in your mind, the unbelievable, insane, unreasonable words that you couldn’t believe were being uttered right before you, not by him. You wanted to scream at him, to shout and tell him that it’s all wrong, all of this, everything is all wrong. That the passion he’s talking about is just intense dislike that was so grand, so overpowering, it couldn’t be contained inside your body, nor inside his. That you were not in love with Neteyam - you hated Neteyam. With every fibre of your being, you loathed the man that hurt you so deeply, so intimately, for so long, that forsook the past you shared and the memories you made and what you meant to him, or what he meant to you.

You wanted to tell him that he’s delusional in ever thinking that man could ever be in love with you, when all he did was find new ways to torture you, to belittle you, to make you feel lesser than him, lesser than anyone he knew. How could that ever be love? How could that ever work? This was love. What you had with O'ì'en. Pure and good and kind and easy. Love wasn’t supposed to hurt, right? Love was supposed to feel natural, like coming home after a long, exhausting day, it wasn’t supposed to be what made the day long and exhausting in the first place. He was so wrong. 

But you didn’t find it in you to argue with him. Not with him. Someone else will have to bear the consequences of your repressed anger, but not O'ì'en, because he deserves better than what he got, and what you gave, and in truth.. none of this mattered anyway. Arguing would make no difference in this doomed relationship, so you calmed yourself for the time being and spoke in as even of a tone you could manage. 

“O'ì'en… I think you’re wrong. But, it doesn’t matter. You’re right that I didn’t talk to Mo’at, and that I should have. Regardless of the circumstances that led to this, I am so sorry. I will forever be sorry for the way you found out, for the way this came to be. I’m so sorry you had to be collateral damage in a war that is only mine to bear. I had a whole plan about how to tell you, I had so many things I wanted to say to you. That I’m grateful to you, and that I love you. That I’m sorry it wasn’t the way that you deserve to be loved, but I do love you. That I will never forget you, and your affection that shone so brightly over me, that was a safe haven from the bad storms I’ve had to weather for so long. That I’ll be sorry every day that I wasn’t good enough for you, but am relieved by the notion that one day, you’ll find someone so much better than me, someone who will be able to give you everything you deserve and then some, and I’m relieved in knowing you will be thankful to have been rid of me.” 

You decided this would have to be enough for now. One day, maybe you’ll be able to face him again. One day, maybe he’ll even be able to spare you a glance, or a smile. But not today. 

“I hope you forgive me one day.” 

“Me, too.” 

But I'd give anything to stop time, commit to you and not crimes Against your truth and lose sight of every divide threatening to undo this story But baby, I'm so sorry, I don't think that I'll ever memorise this route

It was a long way back to the village, and with every step taken and every moment passed, the anger that you tried to stifle for his sake came back ten fold - the tiring days of fighting, of crying, of suffering, of uncertainty and rampant emotions all building up within you, all coming to a calamitous zenith that threatened to spill all around you, that begged and urged for revenge, for payback on the man that caused it all, the man that was at the centre of all your life’s woes.

He ruined your relationship? Well… let’s see how he’ll like a taste of his own medicine. You knew exactly where you’ll find him, because you knew he’d be in the place he knew he could pester you the most, in a place that’s supposed to be yours, that he tainted over and over, that you will make sure to conquer back from him, the way you eventually would all of the pieces of yourselves he’s taken from you through time.

Your tent was quiet and untouched, unlike the little nook behind it, that was completely segregated from the rest of the clan, an oasis of secrecy and privacy in an otherwise bustling environment. A place that should be yours alone, but now hid two Na’vi, one of them mewling softly at the actions of the other. Neteyam was focused on his mate’s neck, their make-out session so intense, they didn’t even notice you until it was too late, until you stood behind them, until your presence was announced by a deep sigh and a disappointed click of your tongue.

“Oh, how disappointing.” 

The girl let out a distressed yelp at your voice and pushed Neteyam off of her, eliciting a deep growl from the man that was less than impressed by the interruption. 

“Am I interrupting?”  

You saw Neteyam’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you, at the way he knew what was coming. You laughed at his expression. What did he think was going to happen after what he’s done? What did he think you were going to do finding them here? The evil smirk that possessed you reminded you of his, and you wondered if this is how panicked you looked, too, when you saw him approaching you and O'ì'en.

“You know, if you’re going to continue going against the Olo’eyktan and the Tsa’hik’s wishes and cheat on your mate, I wouldn’t do it… you know, right outside of her tent.” 

“WHAT?!” The high-pitched screech nearly deafened you, but you didn’t let it show. Instead you just watched as Neteyam scrambled to get himself out of the eye of the storm threatening to tear him apart.

“Tìlor, I -“ 

“Ah, your boyfriend didn’t tell you?” Your smile was sickeningly sweet as you approached the couple, stopping right next to Neteyam, placing a hand on his arm, tracing the protruding veins that made saliva pool in your mouth, and you bit back a laugh at the girl’s rabid look, that looked a lot like she was going to pounce on you at any given moment - you hoped she did. Nothing would make you happier than to have an excuse to rearrange her braids. This girl that always looked down on you, that looked at you like you were an outsider or a freak, that never even tried to mask her jealousy, her disdain, her fear at the fact the Sullys preferred you, and always will. 

“I will be your Tsa’hik soon. Isn’t that right… yawne?” 

“So unless you want me to go and tell the clan leaders… and your mother… and your father, and everyone who matters that you’ve been fucking someone else’s mate and watch as little by little, your entire world falls apart around you, I suggest you realise this man right here, he’s not worth it. Not worth all the drama, not worth all the fuss. Just go, and find yourself a single mate, and give thanks to Eywa she’s rid you of him, cause damn, I know I wish I could be.” 

The hatred in her eyes was slowly replaced with fear and embarrassment, and for a second, just a second - you felt bad for her. Because no matter how badly she’s treated you, how she’s adopted Neteyam’s behaviour as her own with no reason or rhyme, much like O'ì'en, she was also just another collateral victim in a war that kept claiming lives and hearts, and you wondered where, if at all, the line would be drawn, when, if ever, would enough be enough?

You watched as she scrambled to fasten her top around her neck properly and without another word, she was gone, leaving just you and Neteyam alone, with enough tension in the air around you to suffocate you, to feel like smoke from a fire so grand, you didn't know if weren’t skilled enough to put out.

'Cause I have yet to know how to be mine You can try to unearth this soul I swear you'll hate what you find

“Why?” 

“You’re making out with someone behind my tent, knowing that would piss me off, after what you did yesterday, and you have the nerve to ask me why?” you threw your head back and laughed at the outrageousness of the question. Neteyam wasn’t stupid - far from it. He was also not naive, or oblivious, or harebrained. The question had no business coming out of his mouth, but yet it did. You didn't have time to ponder the reasons why.

“You see, Neteyam, I think you came here because you knew I’d come. Because you secretly wanted me to. Because you know deep down that this girl has nothing to offer you, and you just needed an easy way out to rid yourself of her, and you needed me to do your dirty work for you again. Well, you’re welcome, Neteyam. What the fuck would you ever do without me, huh?”

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite. All the theatricals of being heartbroken over what I did to O'ì'en and then you do the exact same thing to someone else, someone innocent.”

“Innocent, ha! You think I give a shit about your little girlfriend’s feelings, when you treated O'ì'en the way you did? He didn’t deserve this, Neteyam. Any of this. He’s good man, he respects you, and looks up to you. He -“ 

“He should have known better than to associate himself with you.” His bared fangs didn’t do as much to scare you, not nearly as much as his proximity to you did, at the way his eyes stared daggers at your face, that even in the heat of the moment, at the peak of anger and hatred, couldn’t help settle on your parted, wet lips. “He should have known better and realise that all you bring in people’s life is disappointment and pain. He also should have known better and realise you didn’t love him. That you never will. That you might try to act like it and convince yourself, but someone like him would never, ever satisfy you.” 

“And who the fuck would satisfy me, Neteyam? You? That’s rich. I bet your poor little girlfriend’s happy she’s rid of you. Bet you haven’t made her cum once. Too busy thinking of training and ruining my life, too busy thinking about how great you think you are to make room for anyone else in there.” You poked him in the chest with your index finger, right over his heart. Your touch lingered on his body, somehow unable to bring yourself to stop, half in awe at the way his heart was racing, at the way yours beat almost in sync with his, at the way you tried to convince yourself it’s because of the anger you were feeling, and no other reason.

“Yeah? Is that what you think?” 

And there he was again, once more grabbing you by your throat, and you wanted to object, and fight him, but you didn’t - you couldn’t -, not as you felt throbbing deep within you at the action, not as you had to push your thighs together to accommodate for the increasingly uncomfortable sensation, not as your loincloth was becoming more and more damp by the second. And you remember your words, and remember that you told him that if he ever touched you again, you’ll make him pay for it, but right now, in this moment, you couldn’t find it in you to speak a word, as the intensity of his gaze knocked the air out of your lungs and his fingers squeezed just enough so no more could get back in you. Your back scratched painfully against a tree as he pushed you into it, and you couldn’t help a small moan as his other hand pushed your loincloth to the side, brushing over your folds that were now sopping and swollen. He let out a soft chuckle as he felt you.

“If that’s what you really thought, you wouldn’t be dripping on my fingers right now, tsxepvi.” 

Slowly, deliberately, he started exploring your heat, thumb ghosting over your clit as he watched you squirm under his touch, struggling between what you knew you should do, between your conscious mind telling you you were going to pay for this in tears and heartache, and your subconscious mind screaming to let go, to embrace the overbearing desire to give in to him, as you did in the dreams you convinced yourself in time were nightmares, but knew more and more each day that it was just another lie you told yourself to keep going. 

One side of you won by a landslide, as he gently pushed two fingers in you, as he started increasing the pressure with which he was massaging your clit, and it felt so good, too good, better than anything you’ve ever felt before. You tried to contain the sounds coming through gritted teeth with all your might, knowing what he was doing, knowing giving him any indication of the pleasure he was giving you would mean another thing you’d have to pay for later, knowing you couldn’t allow him to enjoy this, you couldn’t possibly give him the satisfaction of knowing he could do this to you, but you couldn’t stop, not when his fingers curled in you and found the spongy part that made you see glimmering, blinding lights and his thumb circled your needy bud in the perfect way to heighten the sensations running through you, electrifying your every nerve. The moans turn into mewls as he increases the pressure and his pace, and you felt the pleasure in you reach a high that you were ready to ride out, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it, and you’re barely able to think about how fucking quick it was, how it took no time at all for him to get you there, how skilled his fingers, as they worked his ministrations on you. You had no will to think about what the fuck was happening, how weird it was, how the man you’ve hated for so long is doing this to you, before the feeling got too overwhelming to be contained anymore.

“Fuck, i’m gonna -“ 

“That’s right, tsxepvi. I can feel you squeezing my fingers. You want to come for me?” 

“Argh, I-“ 

The moan you let you wasn’t of pleasure, it was of deep, throbbing pain as the emptiness overtook you, as soon as he removed his fingers.

He smirked, an evil smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as his fingers found his lips and he sucked on them, his tongue swirling in between them, licking every single drop. 

“You taste fucking amazing, tsxepvi. Maybe next time, if you apologise and behave, you’ll actually get to cum.” 

And with that, he was gone, living you an empty, horrified mess, as the high came crashing down violently and the consequences of the last few minutes replaced it to lead you in a spiral of mixed thoughts and feelings, each one more terrifying than the last. 

'Cause I am lost, but not in you Yes, I am lost, but not in you

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak @sweetbread-m @eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog

[errruvande]

Fanfic writer interview

Thank you @thelettersfromnoone for the tag!! 💖

How many work do u have on AO3?

3, not your local AO3 girlie lmao

What's your total AO3 word count?

8 534

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes

I'll go with Tumblr ones, cause from my 3 AO3 works the biggest number I got is 31 lmao

Anyone but you (Legolas x f!reader)

Night watch (Legolas x Reader)

Well-deserved rest (Haldir x f!Reader)

One messy night (Boromir x f!Reader)

Transition (Haldir x f!Reader)

Honorable mention (since it's not fics but headcanons)

Green Council receiving a hot pic from you (HotD)

TLK men's reaction on being pet named

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to respond to comments! These little things are brightening up my day, so I wanna let the people know that they are my heroes hahaha

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I really think it's Transition. All in all it's a pretty dark story, a bit depressing I think (I had these intentions while writing at least).

Otherwise, I don't think I have angsty endings fics?

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

New family members for sure!! Was thinking hard what to choose, cause I think all of my happy ending fics are on the pretty same level on a happy scale, but I remember that I have this gen, non romantic baby and I love it so much ❤️‍🩹 There's a little TLK OMC for y'all

Do you write crossovers?

I wanted to say I've never done this BUT THEN!!! My Assassin's Creed (Ezio) x LOTR little headcanon!!! My beloved child!!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, not that I remember getting any hate on my fics

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, tho not much and on rare occasions. I used to write a lot of smut when I was younger (a teen), then I stopped being comfortable with it for a wild few years (tho reading never made me uncomfortable lmao).

Now I started writing smut again, idk what kind? Don't really understand what does that mean lol F x M traditional sex? Pretty detailed? If so, then yes lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't know 😂 Maybe, maybe not. I think rather not.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge, I don't think so.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

We tried with my friend a long long time ago. Didn't go well lmao It's hard and kinda stressing, cause you never know what the other person is gonna write (at least we had this SURPRISE system), so... You kinda have zero plot cause everything you want to write plot-wise can be ruined by the second person's plot lmao

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Athelnar?? Athelstan and Ragnar were my first ever OTP (quickly followed by Alfred and Uhtred). You could never beat that Athelnar shit out of my body lmao I've never written for them, but oh I do love them boys!

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Now, that's the HARSH one lmao

I think I have at least 3 OC stories that I really wanna write (2 for TLK and one for LOTR), but I'm scared that I will never actually do it. I never was good with multi chaptered stories, and these are indeed not a one shots 🥲

What are your writing strengths?

Ugh... I don't know? I think I was pretty good with dialogues and descriptions of the surroundings to build the atmosphere. But... I guess it's not for me to decide but for the readers?

What are your writing weaknesses?

I rarely finish what I've started lmao I should write everything in one go or else I'll never finish it... Or will finish it in two months even if it's a 2k words one shot

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I love them! I've only done it with my LOTR fics (with Sindarin) but I really love it. But I really love it when the language is different from the language of the settings? Like, if the story is happening in England and everyone is English, but you have two characters who can speak idk Dutch, let them have a Dutch language in their dialogue. I had a rant post about it not that long ago actually lmao You have to think about your in-universe language

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Ahhh Bungou Stray Dogs! I love them, and I'd gladly try to write something for them. Not a character/character but reader my beloved.

And maybe Stephane Narcisse (reign) my beloved and a reader

What's your favorite fic you've written?

The blood on my hands (Eomer) and Peace (Finan) are definitely my fave ones I think. They are dark and both explore some trauma

No pressure tags: @whitedarkmoonflower @lord-aldhelm @holy3cake @gemini-mama @emilyhufflepufftlk @persephones-journey @solinarimoon @mrsalwayswrite @emmanuellececchi @bilbotargaryen @levithestripper @mrsarnasdelicious @paula-in-dreamland