#i have the worst timing for rhythm fights

[nateezfics]

I don’t know if it would reach you but I’ll give it a try

ATEEZ reaction to Make-Up Sex after their S/O distancing themselves after a fight

MAKE UP SEX WITH ATEEZ

PAIRING — ateez x reader

GENRE — smut, romance, angst (the slightest bit), make up, boyfriend!ateez, fem!reader, sub!reader, soft dom!ateez

WARNINGS — mentions of arguments, smut, unprotected sex, make up sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, use of pet names (baby), intentional lower case and small font, intentional word abbreviations

WORD COUNT — 1.2k

SUMMARY — make up sex with ateez after an argument.

HONGJOONG

“c’mon, baby. need to hear you. please.”

his thrusts increased in speed, fucking into you at a rhythm just as messy as his thoughts. your moans poured out of you, your hands clutching at his back until he groaned at the way your nails pierced his skin. he soaked up every last one of your cries, reveled in the way you clung to him like a lifeline. god, he’d missed your voice, missed you. he hated arguing, even more so when he knew he was in the wrong. your silence was the worst part of it all; he wasn’t able to stand it not even a day before he was clambering back to you.

hongjoong’s hips pistoned into you with a purpose to pull every last sound from you until you were falling apart underneath him. you cried into the nape of his neck, your hold on his back never letting up. “hongjoong, hongjoong, hongjoong…”

his name on your tongue was enough to undo him. he held you close to him quickly after, kissing all over your face and showering you with proclamations of love and apologies.

SEONGHWA

“fuck, i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

seonghwa was urgent, desperate to make you fall apart. his thrusts were hurried and they were deep, cockhead kissing against that sweet spot inside you repeatedly. he buried his face in your neck, kissing your warm skin. his hand searched over the sheets for yours until he found it. his fingers locked with yours and he gave you a loving squeeze. it was little actions like this that reminded you of how much he adored you. and you reveled in the little acts of love, thankful to have a boyfriend that cared enough for you to show his love for you after arguments.

“seonghwa,” you breathed between moans. “i love you.”

seonghwa smiled. you forgave him. “i love you, too.”

YUNHO

“i love you. so damn much. gonna make you feel better, baby.”

yunho’s breath was hot against your ear. his lips rested just at your temple as you sat across his lap, your arms around his shoulders while one of his hands touched you between your thighs. two long fingers stuffed your leaky hole, making you mewl into his neck. he felt your hold on him grow tighter, and he smiled. he kissed your temple. he scissored you open, preparing you for his cock later, fucking your pussy with his fingers until he felt your slick begin to drip down his hand.

“l-love you,” you whispered, though it was almost too much to manage as his fingers brought you closer to an orgasm. “i feel s’good, yunho.”

and yunho kept making you feel good, eventually breaking you apart on his cock and fucking you until your argument was long forgotten.

YEOSANG

“please, wanna know how good i’m making you feel. wanna make it up to you.”

yeosang’s hands were placed on either side of your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock. he watched you, witnessing the view of you above him, your head rolled back and mouth agape. you looked divine like this, and all he wanted to do was make you feel this good forever.

your hands found stability on his thighs as you began to lose yourself to the pleasure. “i feel good, yeo. fuck, so good.”

yeosang urged you to an orgasm, cursing under his breath as he watched you fall apart from above. you clamped around him like a vice and his cock throbbed with need to release, but he withheld his own end. he flipped you over until you were flat against the mattress, taking his spot above you. he didn’t waste any time before sliding back into you with a languid thrust.

“give me one more, please. don’t wanna stop until i’m sure i’ve earned your forgiveness.”

SAN

“don’t wanna fight ever again. just wanna be with you like this. god i’m so sorry, baby.”

san hugged you tightly, keeping your frame firm against his. your back was against his chest, his hands fondling your breasts, and his mouth at your ear. his cock drove into you so deep and slow it made your brain short circuit, turning to mush in your skull. he fucked you with practiced precision, it was like he was trying to use his body to tell you how sorry he was. one of his hands left your chest to grip the bend of your knee and pull your leg up to offer him a better angle.

with each thrust, the memory of the argument began to vanish. all you were able to think about was him and the rapidly approaching orgasm. “i forgive you, san, just make me cum. please, please, please!”

“oh baby,” san cooed with a kiss to your ear. “don’t you worry. i’m gonna make you cum. gonna make you fall apart, and then do it all over again. gotta make up for all the lost time, yeah?”

MINGI

“sorry, sorry, sorry. let me kiss it better. please, baby.”

mingi’s large hands gripped at your thighs firmly but tenderly. he had you splayed open before him as he feasted on your essence, pouring every ounce of himself into your pleasure. his pointy nose bumped your clit just as his tongue passed between your folds and your back arched prettily off the mattress. he needed to make you feel good to make up for the fight, to use his tongue to show you how truly sorry he was.

“mingi, ‘m gonna cum…” you sounded so sweet, and fuck, you tasted even sweeter. he pressed his face further into your cunt.

“gonna make you cum as much as you want to, baby.”

WOOYOUNG

“wanna make you cry from pleasure, not from pain. fuck, i’m sorry baby.”

wooyoung’s thumb wiped a fallen tear away, palm warm against your cheek. he gazed down at you just as he pushed himself in again. your lips trembled and brows furrowed; you looked so beautiful when you cried from how good he was making you feel. it was a much better sight than seeing you cry after arguing with him, and much better than hearing your sniffles from the locked bedroom. he caressed your cheek with his thumb while his hips quickened in tempo, cooing at you sweetly as you began to whimper.

“wooyoung, please.” your plea was soft, broken. he soothed you with kisses against your forehead. he kept the same pace, hips gliding back and forth until you were coming undone underneath him.

he was there to console you, to guide you through your high with tender touches and words.

JONGHO

“i love you. please, need to hear you say you still love me, too.”

jongho wasn’t able to keep his hands off you. he caressed your frame, attentive to every dip and curve, as his cock slid in and out of you. you were breathless under him, mouth opening and closing like you were attempting to speak. “please, baby.”

you swallowed a moan. you gripped his wrists at either side of your face, holding onto them like a lifeline as you tried to gather your thoughts. “i lo—” a moan, “love you, jongho. s’much.” and no argument could ever change that.

jongho dipped his head down until his forehead was against yours. his eyes found yours, and he adored the way yours were glazed over from the pleasure. he smiled lovingly, and the sight made your insides flutter. “you’re amazing.” jongho followed up his words with an increase in tempo, fucking you deep until you fell apart under the weight of pleasure and love.

TAG LIST — @abiaswreck @hongthoven @jungkookieprincess @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @thesafecafe (if you’d like to be on my tag list, find the tag list form link on the pinned post on my blog!)

NETWORKS — @kflixnet @wonderlandnet

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

[chuuniversal]

cw: rough sex after an argument, brat taming, bratty! fem!reader, maybe ooc zayne, mentions of spanking, not really proof read thoroughly. i was hacked idk this is straight up smut…. @zehrbear <3

thinking about being fucked by zayne after a heated argument, his papers and notes scattered on the floor along with your panties and his black tie and slacks. it’s been non stop with you today, distracting him at work, picking unnecessary fights, and the worst offense being eating his parfait in front of him. he’s fucking had enough.

he has you bent over the desk, pretty fucked out face pushed against the cool surface while he pounds into you mercilessly. he’s tired of your fucking mouth, sassing him non stop and being catty. if you’re gonna talk the least you can do is moan his name, and that you do.

oh f-fuck! zayne! z-zayne please! s’too much- oooo!!

the grip he has on your doughy hips is lethal, fingers sinking into your skin as his hips collide with your ass. it’s embarrassing how wet you are, slick coating the length of his dick as it pushes in and out of your greedy pussy. and fuck you’re tight too, warm soft walls squeezing him tight every time he lands a smack on your ass. you can feel him so deep it makes your mind numb, you can’t help but inch away any chance you get. unfortunately for you though he’s not letting that shit slide, pulling you closer to him as he fucks you deeper.

mm no, angel. don’t run from it now, what happened to that fight you had earlier? don’t tell me you can’t take it?

his thrusts become thunderous and the desk you’re being fucked against bangs against the wall, loud thuds in rhythm with your cries and his strokes. you swear you’re gonna cum, all you can think about is zayne’s dick hitting that spot over and over and it’s making you go crazy!! your cunt flutters around him and you grab onto the desk for dear life as you try to ground yourself, your thighs uncontrollably shaking from your orgasm.

you’re such a fucking mess after too, pretty lashes wet and mascara smeared and runny, your cunt leaking a mix his and your cum down your thighs. you just wanna catch your breath and regroup…. that is until zayne turns you around and lifts you up so that you’re sat on the desk he just fucked you against. he grabs your chin and shoves his tongue in your mouth and a sloppy kiss, and you can’t help but whine against his lips. he hooks his arms under the backs of your legs and lets his throbbing cock rub against your puffy cunt, the tip bumping against your clit hungrily.

since you have so much to say, say it to my face, yeah?

he continues rubbing in between your sticky cunt as he taunts you, it’s so twisted how he’s taking joy in the fact that you can’t even speak or form a thought. only worried about having your greedy cunt filled full and getting what you want. it’s not long before he slides his dick into you again, eyes never breaking contact with your teary ones as he fucks into you slowly, each stroke hitting deeper and deeper until he quickens his pace again.

nothing to say now, right?

[bubblegumgothglados]

This is a RACK focused best practice guide to doing a drowning scene, more specifically a scene where you're repeatedly forcing your victims head under the water. These are my suggestions based on extensive research but they are only theoretical i haven't got to do this to anyone yet. If you have actual experience id love to hear from you please.

Pre-scene setup

Learn CPR. This is the single thing that I'm going to say is mandatory, everything else is just a suggestion this isn't. If worst comes to worst and your victim is drowning you need to be able to save their life.

Learn your victim. How do they react in pain, when they're scared or panicking, where are there mental breaking points. Especially helpful to have done breath play with them before, how long can they hold their breath, how hard will they fight, what are their non verbal cues. Are they the type of person who will push their limits past the danger point, are you comfortable shutting the scene down when they're begging you to continue.

Figure out your nonverbal communication. A safeword is important but not nearly enough for a scene like this. Their head is going to be underwater most if the time and they'll probably be struggling and fighting. What signs can they make to tell you to stop or slow down under these conditions. I would suggest giving them something to hold that can make noise, a squeaky toy or a clicker or something similar, with which to signal you.

During the scene

Use warm water. Cold water adds a whole plethora of new problems significantly increasing the risk. I'm not sure of the exact temperature but I think it should be either room temperature so your victim doesn't feel a temperature difference between the air and the water, or body temperature so the water doesn't change their core temperature. (If you'd like to use cold water or even ice water, if that's part of the appeal, ill happily figure out the additional risks in exchange for a video of you drowning your victim ^.^)

Watch their face. Like any other form of breath play hypoxia is a major risk. This post isn't about breath play, I'm assuming you know all those risks and how to manage them before you do something like this.

Start slow. Put your hand on their head but let them submerge themselves and then come back up when they're ready. This will get them used to the sensation and you used to the rhythm. Slowly increase pressure and intensity until you're forcing their head under and pulling it up against their will.

Have the person fill their lungs to capacity before submerging them. The reason being they will have to breath out before they breath water back in so as soon as you see the first sign of bubbles you can pull them out.

After care

This scene will be intense so the aftercare needs to be too. Again this post isn't about proper aftercare I'm assuming you know how to do that if you're doing something like this. But in addition to the usual.

Have a plan for monitoring your victim for the next 72 hours. There are two major complications that can occur after a drowning incident and both can take days to present themselves. The first is when a persons throat spasms and closes, this is supposed to happen when they initially inhale water but can happen much later. The signs to look out for include persistent coughing, irregular breathing, dizziness, confusion, and foam around the mouth and nose. The second is when water gets deep into the lunges it can cause fluid to build up which inhibits gas exchange causing the person to slowly suffocate. The signs to look out for can include coughing up blood, excessive sweating, anxiety, pale skin, and a crackling sound when breathing deeply. If your victim shows any of these signs get them to a medical professional asap, don't risk it these will both cause very painful death.

Enjoy ^.^

[girllblogging777]

𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑀𝐼𝑆𝑆𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑃𝐼𝐸𝐶𝐸

↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader (fluff, little angst)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 ���𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1,5k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you and mattheo reunite after two painful months of being away during summer.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

two months. sixty-five days. a thousand five hundred and sixty hours. that was the amount of time mattheo had spent away from you. two months of being secluded from the rest of the world, and from his own world, his girlfriend. two months of enduring the worst and most painful pain, both mentally and physically, inflicted by his father.

ever since he’d started at hogwarts, six years ago, mattheo had always dreaded the time he had to go back to the place others called “home.” despite the whispers and reputation that followed him at school, hogwarts was his refuge. it was the one place that gave him space away from his biggest enemy. because that’s what voldemort was to him, his enemy, not his father.

although mattheo rarely opened up about his family life. or the lack thereof, it was painfully clear for you what he was going through. you knew he would return to school with bruises on his body and scars on his heart, reminders of whatever horrors he had been through at the riddle mansion. the truth was, you had spent the entire summer in a state of anxiety, unable to sleep and feeling like a piece of your soul was missing and hurting. the fact that you couldn’t contact him gnawed at you and made you full of guilt and worry.

“you don’t understand ! if something happened, i would never know,” you had told his friends, who you kept in touch with during the summer. “are you sure he’s okay? i want him back, i can’t bear the thought of him going back there again.” you declared when they all tried to reassure you.

as you said your final goodbyes to your family on the train platform, your eyes wandered the crowded station, desperately looking for the familiar brown-eyed boy you craved like oxygen. one by one, your friends appeared, excited to be back here for another year at hogwarts. you forced a smile, hugging them and making small talk, while fighting to keep your mind off mattheo’s missing presence..

once on the train, pansy cornered you and began to share every detail of her summer flings. you listened politely, but eventually you excused yourself, heading away from your friends and wandering through the narrow corridor of the train. still no sign of mattheo. your heart sank a little more every time you passed through another compartment where he wasn’t.

finally, you found an empty compartment and entered it, sitting down and resting your head against the cool glass of the window. the rhythm of the train was comforting, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, your fatigue won the battle. “where are you, matt ?” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips before you fell in a deep sleep.

the gentle movement of the train and the distant sound of voices in other compartments surrounded you as you slept, your body curled up on the wooden seat. the weight of the past few months, of sleepless nights and constant worry finally caught up with you, pulling you into a deep slumber.

you didn’t hear the compartment door open. you didn’t see the familiar figure standing there, hesitating, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at you for the first time in what felt like forever. mattheo’s heart ached at the sight of you, your face peaceful but marked by the signs of exhaustion and worry.

for a moment he just stood there, letting the reality of your presence wash over him. he had replayed this moment in his mind countless times during those two long months, as it was the only thing that kept him going. but nothing could have prepared him for the overwhelming rush of emotions now that he was here, seeing you again.

finally, unable to bear the distance any longer, he stepped forward. slowly, carefully and as if afraid to break the fragile peace of the moment, he knelt down beside you, his hand trembling as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face.

the touch was featherlight, but it was enough to wake you up. your eyes fluttered open, the memories of your dreams slowly giving way to reality. and then you saw him. mattheo, his familiar brown eyes filled with something deep and raw, something that made your breath catch in your throat.

“mattheo…” you whispered, as if saying his name would make him disappear, as if he was just another dream. but he was real, he was here with you, cupping your cheek and brushing it softly with his calloused fingertips. “it’s me,” he murmured with a rough voice filled with emotions. “i’m here, love.”

you sat up with a pounding heart, your hands reaching out to touch him, to make sure he was real. your fingers traced the lines of his face, the familiar curve of his jaw, the faint bruises that were fresh on his skin. your eyes unconsciously filled with tears, and you couldn’t hold them back any longer. “i was so scared,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “i didn’t know if… i thought-“

“shh” mattheo whispered, pulling you into his arms, holding you close as your body shook with sobs. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” you clung to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his robes as if you could somehow keep him with you, keep him away him from leaving you again. your touch was hurting his bruised body but he didn’t budge, because your presence was worth all the hurt in the world. “don’t ever leave me like that again,” you pleaded against his chest. “i can’t lose you, mattheo.”

he held you tighter, his own eyes stinging with tears he refused to let fall. “i won’t ” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “i won’t ever leave you again.” for a long moment, the two of you just held each other with nothing left but the sound of your breathing, the beating of your hearts in sync. you slowly pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still cradling his face.

“you’re hurt,” you said softly, your eyes tracing the bruises, the dark circles under his eyes, the pain that was visibly there. “what did he do to you?” mattheo shook his head slightly, closing his eyes for a moment as if trying to block out the memories. “it doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’m here now. that’s all that matters, i’m home.” because that was the truth, no matter how much time he spent back at the riddle manor, the only real home he had was you.

you opened your mouth to say that it did matter, that he couldn’t just brush it off like that and that you needed him to talk to you, but the look in his eyes stopped you. there was a darkness there, a pain that made your heart ache. you knew he wasn’t ready to talk about it, not yet. so you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “okay,” you whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “you’re home, baby.”

mattheo seemed to melt under your touch and closed his eyes, his arms still wrapped tightly around you as if he was afraid that you would disappear. but you didn’t. you stayed right there, grounding him and reminding him that you would never leave. “i missed you so much,” you broke the silence, whispering. “every day, every night… it was like a part of me was missing.”

“i missed you too,” mattheo admitted, his voice barely audible. words of affirmations were rare for him, so you cherished each one of his words. “it was the only thing that kept me going. knowing that i’d come back to you.” you looked into his eyes, seeing the truth in his words, the vulnerable side of him he didn’t let anyone else see. you rested your forehead against his, softly tracing the shape of his lips and trying to memorise every single feature of his face.

“i’m not letting you go back there again,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the tears that were about to fall again. “i want to be with you, always.” your boyfriend nodded and tightened his grip on you. “i won’t leave you again, i promise” he declared, a promise he intended to keep.

with that, he pressed a delicate kiss on your soft lips, both of you afraid to hurt one another. you kissed him back, reassuringly tangling your fingers in his curled hair as his hand found your waist, fitting perfectly like a missing puzzle piece. it was gentler than your usual desperate and hunger filled touches, but it meant everything, a promise that the two of you would only ever stay together and protect one another.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : woop woop here’s a little back to school motivation for y’all, once again highly inspired by a convo from character ai… i loved this request (please give me more !) likes/comments/reblogs are appreciated <3

tell me if you wanna be tagged when i post !

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[pickingupmymercedes]

Partition - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Partition - Beyoncé - @scuderiarossa

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: smutty (there's a bit of angst to start though)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The limo’s low hum is almost soothing, a contrast to the coiled tension radiating off Lewis.

I’d thought the worst of this would have been over after the last race—when he’d crossed the finish line and nothing, no controversial ruling, no last-lap drama, could take that eighth title away from him.

He had stood on the top step, grinning like the world had righted itself, like he could finally put those ghosts behind him.

For a few days, I believed it too. He’d laughed more, had this lightness about him that made everything feel... easier. I thought we’d left that weight in the past, buried under the trophy he had lifted with both hands.

But trauma, it has a way of sticking around, of finding cracks to sneak through.

And today, on the night of the ceremony where he’d finally be recognized as what he’s been, he’s back to being that stone of tension.

I watch him, his brow furrowed as his gaze lingers out the window. His hand rests on his thigh, fingers twitching in that way they do when his mind won’t stop.

I know how much history weighs on him.

It’s why I’m here, why I slid into a deep burgundy dress and spent 45 minutes getting everything just right. I know what tonight means to him.

My hand moves up to his chest, my fingers tracing the sharp line of his suit jacket. “You shouldn’t still be this tense, babe. The season’s over. You won.”

He doesn’t answer right away, just exhales a deep breath, eyes still fixed on the lights of Paris streaming by. “Yeah” he finally says, his voice tight, restrained. “I... I just don’t want anything to go wrong tonight.”

I study him for a moment, my heart squeezing at the vulnerability in his voice. Lewis Hamilton doesn’t let that part of him show often, not to the world, and sometimes not even to me.

But it’s there, under all the strength, the confidence, the legend. He carries everything with him—every win, every loss, every time someone questioned his place, his worth.

And that weight, it’s heavy.

“I get it” I say softly, my hand resting more firmly on his thigh. “But tonight, isn’t about proving anything. You’ve already done that.”

His eyes flick to mine, and I see the briefest flicker of doubt, like even now, standing on the cusp of the recognition he’s deserved for years, he’s still fighting ghosts.

Well, not tonight, not on my watch.

I move closer, my lips brushing against his ear. “You need to stop thinking so damn much” I murmur, my fingers trailing higher, teasing the tension right out of him.

His brow lifts slightly, a knowing look passing between us. "Do I?"

I don’t answer him with words. I just give him a look, the one that promises I’m about to make him forget every damn thing that’s been on his mind.

The past can haunt him, but tonight? Tonight, he’s going to feel exactly what he is.

I smirk, settling in closer, my hand sliding up to his chest, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Paris traffic isn’t going anywhere. We’ve got, what—thirty minutes?”

He raises a brow, catching on quickly, though there’s still that edge in his eyes. "And what are you proposing we do, love?"

I meet his gaze with a wicked grin, as I call for the driver. “Monsieur, pouvons nous avoir un peu d’intimité?” (Sir, can we have some privacy)

His eyes darken as he hears the french roll from my tongue and watches me shift off the seat, positioning myself between his legs.

My dress pools around me, and for a moment, there’s only the sound of his breathing, heavy and expectant. I lock eyes with him as I reach for his belt, my fingers making quick work of the buckle.

"Est-ce que tu aimes le sexe? Le coit… Tu aimes ça?” I tease him, echoing a familiar line with a playful smirk. (Do you like sex? The sexual act... Do you like it?)

His chuckle is low as he gets the reference, but it quickly fades as I pull him free, my hand wrapping around his growing hardness.

This night is his, and I’m going to make sure he walks in that gala like the titan he is.

I take him into my mouth slowly, savoring the groan that escapes his lips, his hand instinctively coming to rest at my exposed arm.

My mascara is going to be a mess after this, and my lipstick—well, that’s going to be a different story altogether. But it doesn’t matter.

Nothing matters except this moment, and the way I can feel his body start to loosen under my touch.

I work him with the same precision he uses on the track—focused, determined, in complete control. His grip on my skin tightens, his breathing quickens, and I can tell he’s close.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he growls, his voice thick with need. His hips buck slightly, and I feel him pulse against my tongue.

I push him right to the edge before he tumbles over, his release hitting the back of my throat as I swallow every bit of it.

There’s nothing around to clean up, so I do what I have to—handle it like a pro.

I pull back slowly, giving him one last teasing kiss before I sit up, licking my lips. His head is thrown back against the seat, eyes closed, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

“Better?” I ask, carefully wiping the corner of my mouth with my thumb to smudge a minimal amount of lipstick.

He opens his eyes, that stormy expression from earlier completely gone. Now, he just looks at me with a satisfied and lazy grin that certainly beats that gaze he occasionally gives Will Buxton.

“Way to take the edge off” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with affection, a finger still on my arm, tracing circles on the skin there.

I reach into my clutch, pulling out the tube of red lipstick and expertly reapplying it in the dim light.

As I lean back to check my reflection, I notice something on his shirt—a small smudge of lipstick, the same shade I’m wearing, right at the hem of his blazer jacket.

I smirk. “Looks like I left a little souvenir.”

Lewis glances down, following my gaze to the stain, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Of course, you did.”

“Do you think they’ll notice it’s my shade, too,” I tease, reaching out to fix the collar of his undershirt. “Maybe get them to wonder.”

His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing lightly against my jaw. “I don’t care what they think” he says, his voice dropping an octave, more serious now.

“Good.” I lean in, pressing my freshly reapplied lips to his lightly, tasting the remnants of him still on my tongue. “Because tonight’s yours. You’re going to walk into that ceremony and claim what’s been yours.”

He pulls back, his brow arching slightly. "And then?"

I settle back into my seat, crossing my legs slowly, deliberately. “Then, I’m all yours. But first, you’ve got a circus to attend.”

His grin widens, that familiar spark of confidence returning to his eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The limo slows to a stop, the sounds of Paris creeping back into the cabin. The driver opens the door, and I adjust my dress, smoothing out the fabric as Lewis steps out first, his hand extended to help me. I take it, stepping into the cool night air, feeling every eye and camera flash on us as we make our way into the grand venue.

Tonight, the world will see Lewis for what he is—a titan of Formula 1.

And when the cameras are gone and the applause fades, he’s all mine.

______________________________________________________________

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[the-oblivious-writer]

Heavy

Tara Carpenter x Reader

One-Shot

Summary: After surviving a brutal attack that left you in a coma, you awaken to find the love of your life, Tara Carpenter, has vanished from your side despite the endless nights she spent holding your hand through the worst of it.

Warning(s): Trauma, no pronouns, references to past (Scream 6) violence, mental struggles, survivor's guilt, stalking, emotional manipulation (self-imposed), and PTSD.

Notes: I was listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers while writing this.

You never looked more beautiful than when you were dying.

That thought haunts Tara as she lies in her empty bed, tracing patterns on sheets that still smell faintly of your perfume. Three months since she last held your hand in that sterile hospital room. Three months of pretending she made the right choice.

The machines kept time with your heartbeat, a rhythm she memorized during those endless nights at your bedside. Sometimes, she still hears it in her dreams - that steady beeping that meant you were still fighting, still here, still hers. Until she decided you couldn't be hers anymore.

Sam stopped by earlier, concern etched in the corners of her eyes. "You're punishing yourself," she'd said, leaving a container of soup that now sits untouched on Tara's nightstand. Maybe she is. But isn't that better than the alternative? Better than waiting for the next masked figure to emerge from the shadows, seeking to add your name to the growing list of people she's lost?

Your coma lasted six weeks. Six weeks of Tara reading to you, singing softly when the nurses weren't around, telling you all the things she should have said before. How you made her feel safe in a world that had given her every reason not to be. How your laugh could chase away the darkness that sometimes threatened to swallow her whole. How you never treated her like she was broken, even when she felt held together by nothing but stubborn will and surgical tape.

She remembers the first time you kissed her, after that night at the bowling alley. You'd been so careful with her, like you understood without being told that touch wasn't always easy for her anymore. Your hands had framed her face like she was something precious, something worth protecting. If only you'd protected yourself from her instead.

The phone on her nightstand lights up with another missed call from Chad. He's been trying to get her to come out, insisting that isolation isn't the answer. But how can she explain that every time she closes her eyes, she sees you in that hospital bed? The bandages, the bruises, the way your chest rose and fell with mechanical precision because you couldn't breathe on your own. All because someone had wanted to hurt her, and you'd been brave enough - stupid enough - to step between her and the blade.

"I can't lose you," she had whispered to your unconscious form. "I won't survive it."

But when you finally opened your eyes, weak and confused but alive, Tara realized something worse than losing you to death: losing you by choice, pushing you away to keep you safe from the curse that seems to follow her like a shadow.

The breakup was clean, surgical - like so many of the scars that map her body. She'd practiced the words in front of her bathroom mirror until they stopped making her cry. "I can't do this anymore. I need space. I need to focus on healing." All the clichés that meant nothing and everything at once. You'd looked at her with those eyes that always saw too much, and for a moment, she thought you might fight her on it. Almost hoped you would.

But you didn't. You just nodded, pressed a kiss to her forehead that felt like goodbye, and walked away. Maybe you understood. Maybe you were tired of loving someone who carried death in her wake like a bitter perfume.

Tara rolls onto her side, pulling your old high school sweatshirt tighter around herself. It stopped smelling like you weeks ago, but she wears it anyway, a form of self-torture she can't seem to give up. On her desk, photographs mock her with frozen moments of happiness - you and her at the beach, your hair wild with salt air and sunshine. The two of you at the twins' birthday party, your arm around her waist as she actually smiled for the camera. A quiet morning in your apartment, where you'd captured her making coffee in one of your oversized t-shirts, looking at peace in a way she rarely felt anymore.

Her friends tell her she's different now. Quieter. The spark that had started to return during your time together has dimmed again. Even Mindy, who never comments on anything serious, asked if she was okay the other day. Tara had wanted to laugh. Okay? How could she be when you're forced to bear wounds that were meant for her? When she spends her nights parked across from your apartment, engine off, watching the soft glow of your bedroom light like a moth drawn to flame?

She tells herself it's protection, not obsession. That someone needs to make sure you're safe, even if you don't know they're there. But the truth sits heavy in her chest as she watches your silhouette move behind curtains - the way you still favor your left side, a reminder of wounds that were meant for her. Sometimes, she catches glimpses of you leaving for work, and the sight of you walking alone makes her hands shake against the steering wheel. You look smaller somehow, or maybe that's just the distance she's forced between you.

Last week, you almost saw her. You were collecting mail from your box, and something made you turn, scanning the street with that sixth sense you always seemed to have. Tara had ducked down so fast she'd knocked her head against the dashboard, heart thundering so loud she was sure you'd hear it even from across the street. When she finally dared to look again, you were gone, but she could have sworn there were tears on your cheeks.

She knows it's wrong. Knows that if Sam or Chad found out about these nightly vigils, they'd tell her she's sliding back into old patterns, letting trauma dictate her choices. But how can she explain that sleeping is impossible unless she knows you're safe? That every time she closes her eyes without checking on you, her nightmares paint your death in vivid technicolor?

It's only a matter of time before you two cross paths again. It happens at the corner market three blocks from your old shared apartment. The same place where you used to buy cookie dough ice cream at midnight, where Tara would pretend to complain about enabling your sweet tooth while secretly loving how your kisses tasted afterward. She's reaching for coffee - your brand, though she'll never admit it - when she hears the soft intake of breath behind her.

Time stretches like taffy, sticky and overwhelming. Your reflection in the freezer glass is both familiar and foreign - thinner maybe, or just holding yourself differently. The scar above your collarbone peeks out from your shirt collar, a silvery reminder of everything she's tried to forget.

"Tara."

Her name in your mouth still sounds like coming home. She forces herself to turn, to face the reality of you standing three feet away with a basket of groceries hanging from your arm. The fluorescent lights cast shadows under your eyes that weren't there before, and she wonders if you're sleeping any better than she is.

"You look..." The words tangle in her throat. Alive. Beautiful. Like everything I've been running from. "...good."

Your laugh is hollow, nothing like the sound she keeps locked away in her memory. "Liar." You shift your weight, and she catches the slight wince - another reminder of what loving her cost you. "You've lost weight."

"Haven't been hungry much." The confession slips out before she can stop it.

Something flashes across your face - concern, maybe anger. You take a step forward, and she matches it with a step back, her spine hitting the cold glass of the freezer door. The coffee can in her hands shakes slightly.

"Don't," she whispers, but she's not sure if she's talking to you or herself.

"Don't what, Tara? Don't care? Don't worry? Because I tried that. It doesn't work." Your voice cracks on the last word, and she watches you swallow hard. "I see your car, you know. Outside my apartment."

The confession lands like a physical blow. Heat crawls up her neck as shame mingles with something else - relief, maybe, that you still know her well enough to notice. That some part of you is still watching for her too.

"I just..." She closes her eyes, unable to bear the weight of your gaze. "I need to know you're safe."

"Safe?" Now there's definitely anger in your voice. "You want me safe? Then stop making decisions for both of us. Stop deciding what I can and can't handle. Stop-" Your voice breaks, and when she opens her eyes, there are tears tracking down your cheeks. "Stop acting like your love is a death sentence."

The coffee can clatters to the floor, forgotten. Her hands ache to reach for you, to wipe away those tears she caused. But she forces them to stay at her sides, nails digging crescents into her palms.

"You almost died," she says, the words tasting like copper in her mouth. "Because of me. Because I thought I could have this - have you - without danger following. I was wrong."

"No." You step closer, and this time she can't make herself move away. "I almost died because some psychopath decided to come after us with a knife. Not because of you. Never because of you."

Your hand reaches out, hovering just shy of touching her face. She can feel the heat of it, the promise of contact that makes her chest tight with wanting. The market's muzak plays faintly in the background, some old love song that feels like mockery.

"I miss you," you whisper, and it's the gentlest violence she's ever experienced. "I miss you, and I'm not sleeping, and sometimes I think I see you everywhere, only to turn around and find empty space. And then I realized I wasn't imagining it - you were actually there, watching over me like some heartbroken guardian angel."

A sob builds in her throat. "I don't know how to stop loving you."

"Then don't." Your hand finally makes contact, cupping her cheek, and Tara breaks. "Don't stop. Just... come home."

She leans into your touch for one heartbeat, two, allowing herself to remember what it feels like to be held by hands that know all her scars. Then she steps back, away from your warmth, your forgiveness, your love that feels too much like salvation.

"I can't." The words taste like ash. "I'm sorry. I can't."

She runs. Past the dropped coffee, past the concerned clerk, past everything but the sound of you calling her name. It follows her all the way home, where she collapses against her front door and finally lets herself cry for everything she keeps choosing to lose.

The worst part is knowing that if she could do it all over again - live another life, make different choices - she'd still choose you. Still fall for the way you dance off-beat to every song, still melt at how you bring her coffee just the way she likes it, still love you with every broken piece of herself. She'd just do a better job of staying away before you could love her back.

Night settles around her like a familiar weight. In the darkness, she can almost pretend you're still here, that this is just another evening where you'll wrap your arms around her and keep the nightmares at bay. But the bed stays empty, and the shadows stay thick, and somewhere across town, you're probably sleeping peacefully for the first time since you met her.

"I love you," she whispers to the empty room, words she never said enough when she had the chance. "I love you, and that's why I can't keep you."

The silence offers no comfort, no contradiction. Just the steady tick of her bedside clock, counting down the moments until another day without you begins. Another day of being strong enough to keep her distance, of choosing your safety over her happiness. Another day of remembering that sometimes love means knowing when to let go, even when every cell in your body screams to hold on tighter.

Sleep will come eventually, bringing dreams of your smile, your touch, the way you used to look at her like she hung the stars. And tomorrow, she'll wake up and do it all again - loving you from afar, keeping you safe the only way she knows how. Because that's what love is to Tara Carpenter now: not a fairy tale, not a happy ending, but a sacrifice she makes every day to keep you breathing.

Even if it means she can barely breathe herself.

-----------

A/N: the meaning behind The Maria's "Heavy" inspired this.

[fangdokja]

The worst part? You’ve stopped trying to fight it.

❤︎ Synopsis. You can feel him before you see him—a storm disguised as a man, relentless and consuming. No matter how far you run, he always finds you, his obsession tightening like a noose, promising that the worst is yet to come.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! College! Bully x Fem. Reader

♡ Oneshot. Hunted by Him - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 1,157

♡ TW. dom + top yandere, non-con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and/or touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances

♡ A/N. This is a prelude or sneak peak to the upcoming Novella for Yandere! College! Bully. As of the moment, I’m 70% done with the first part (psychological). After, I will be working on the second part (explicit non con and sexual torture).

You feel him long before you see him. It’s a suffocating, primal awareness—an instinct screaming danger. There’s no mistaking it, that oppressive energy curling like smoke in the air, seeping into your lungs and setting your nerves alight. His presence is not a whisper or a breeze. It’s a storm on the horizon, a low, thrumming hum in your chest, vibrating with malice and inevitability. Even across the campus courtyard, even amidst the chaos of chattering students and blaring music, you know he’s found you again. He always does.

You’ve tried to escape. Of course, you have. You’ve taken alternate routes, skipped classes, holed up in bathroom stalls until your legs cramped and your breaths came shallow. It doesn’t matter. He’s a hunter—your scent is embedded in his mind, a bloodied trail leading straight to your trembling form. You can’t hide from him. You never could. The futility of it clings to you like damp clothes, cold and suffocating.

When he finally steps into view, your stomach knots. He’s unhurried, his stride easy and languid, as though he has all the time in the world to close the distance. And he does. You can’t run. You can barely breathe. The sheer arrogance in his movements is unbearable, his senior status cloaking him in a sheen of untouchable authority. He doesn’t just rule this place; he’s carved it into his image. Every whispered laugh, every stolen glance, every shadowed corner belongs to him.

The chatter dies down as he passes. People avert their eyes, conversations tapering into murmurs. The weight of his presence silences even the boldest of voices. The air crackles around him, thick with the magnetic pull of his dominance. And then he sees you. His lips curl, and you know, deep in the marrow of your bones, that you’re caught.

You’ve always been caught.

Your fingers clutch at the lukewarm hot choco cup in front of you, trembling as if the ceramic might shield you from the inevitable. It won’t. You know it won’t. He’s already decided, already made you his prey the moment you stepped into his orbit. His boots strike the floor with an unrelenting rhythm, each step a countdown to your unraveling. The air sharpens with his approach, every sound muffled except for the pounding of your heart.

When he reaches your table, he doesn’t speak right away. He looms. His shadow swallows you whole, his towering frame a monument to your insignificance. He’s close enough now that you can see the faint sheen of sweat on his collarbone, smell the expensive cologne mingling with the faintest trace of cigarette smoke. His fingers, long and tapered, rest on the table with casual authority. The other hand reaches for you, tilting your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Skipping again, huh?” His voice is a low rumble, rich and dark like poisoned honey. “You’re making this too easy.”

You try to pull away, but his grip tightens, his thumb brushing against the curve of your jaw. There’s no warmth in the gesture, only control—a reminder of his strength, his dominance. His smirk widens as your breathing hitches, his amusement glittering in those sharp, predatory eyes.

“What?” he murmurs, his tone laced with mock concern. “Cat got your tongue? Or are you finally learning to behave?”

Your silence fuels him. He’s a sadist, a creature of chaos who thrives on your humiliation. Every flinch, every tremor of your lips is a victory for him, a notch in his belt. He’s turned your life into a spectacle, a circus act where you’re the hapless clown and he the ringmaster. A spilled drink, a whispered rumor, a strategically placed ‘accident’—he weaves his web with the precision of a master craftsman, ensuring there’s no escape. And the worst part? No one stops him. No one dares.

He’s the golden boy, the fourth-year idol with a jawline that could cut glass and a body carved from marble. His charisma is lethal, his reputation untouchable. To the world, he’s a hero—to you, he’s a nightmare.

But even nightmares have layers. There’s something darker beneath his cruelty, a gnawing obsession that makes his attention linger a moment too long, his touch press a fraction too hard. He’s not just tormenting you for sport. He’s claiming you, piece by trembling piece.

His hand slides from your chin to your throat, his fingers curling just enough to remind you of the power he wields. His lips brush against your ear, his breath hot and taunting as he whispers, “You know, I’ve been thinking about you. Can’t seem to get you out of my head.”

The words are tender, almost loving, but there’s a venom in them that turns your stomach. His thumb strokes the hollow of your throat, a mockery of affection. “It’s cute how you try to avoid me,” he continues, his voice dropping lower. “Like a little kitten running from the big, bad wolf.”

He pulls back just enough to study your face, his expression inscrutable. There’s amusement there, yes, but also something far darker. Hunger.

“But you’re not very good at hiding, are you?” His thumb traces a slow, deliberate line along your jaw, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “You always end up right where I want you.”

The cafeteria feels impossibly small, the walls closing in as his gaze pins you in place. His smirk deepens, a flash of teeth that sends a shiver down your spine. He’s enjoying this, the sight of you trembling beneath him, the knowledge that you’re powerless against him. And in that moment, you realize that he’s not just a bully. He’s a storm, a force of nature that will consume everything in his path, including you.

Your breath catches as his grip tightens, his fingers pressing just enough to send your pulse skittering. For a brief, horrifying moment, you think he might kiss you right there, his lips hovering inches from yours. But he doesn’t. Instead, he leans closer, his voice a low, velvety whisper. “See you tonight, sweetheart.”

And then he’s gone. The tension breaks like a snapped wire, leaving you gasping for air, your heart pounding against your ribs. The coffee in front of you has gone cold, forgotten. But the worst part isn’t the fear or the humiliation. It’s the tiny, traitorous part of you that wonders what he’ll do when you’re alone tonight.

Because you already know.

And that knowledge is more terrifying than anything else.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “A Heart Devoured”: @definetlythinkimanalien

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 2

Y'all came outta NOWHERE- Hi <3

I love these guys sm so when people started asking for more I was like "...Twist my arm okay-". Like I did not need to be convinced don't y'all worry.

Anyway, here are my tags plus shoutout to that anon who sent me the request! I sure do do requests especially ones like that <3

OG Inspo: @huneybeen

Divider Credit: @sister-lucifer

And @unaecsmr .

And that one anon too!

I hope this lives up to expectations <3

Content Warning: Slight descriptions of violence. Puns.

☁ Happy holiday update guys <3 The first run I played all I talked about was how Twisted! Rudie's run looks like he's hitting the griddy.

☁ Anyway, what better way to celebrate than more MoonBerryCake?

☁ Now, you all don't really define you're relationship per say, after the ending of part one, which you can find -> Here!

☁ You all sort of fall into some sort of rhythm after the fact though.

☁ I didn't spend a lot of time on Sprout because I wasn't feeling well, so I feel like I owe it to him!

☁ Sprout can especially recognize the dynamics at play. As much as he loathes admitting it, being with you three losers (Affectionately) makes him happiest. He can't possibly pick one.

☁ So while you and Astro and Cosmo all stay up at night, worrying about budding feelings and crushing the hearts of the others and feeling your own eyes well up at the thought of gaining one, but losing the others, Sprout is SOUND asleep. He is drooling on his pillow. He is snoring loud enough Pebble hid under coal for protection (Across the complex).

☁ Because he knows one thing for certain. He's got two hands, one chest and a dream. He knows what he wants from life now. And he's going to get it, mark his words.

☁ He knows he's over and done with it, devoting himself to the three of you completely after that reunion from that failed run.

☁ You had been downed long enough you had finally argued your bed-ban be lifted while he himself had threatened a solo-style jail break into the elevators if they tried keeping him chained once more.

☁ He had to admit, the two of you made an incredibly stubborn team and if he had any interest in debate, he'd probably use you. As it stands, he decides to keep you around anyway because someone's gotta tell Brightney he's not healing her and it ain't gonna be him.

☁ The retrieval run was one he knew you had been dreading for awhile, all three of you actually, as this was by far one of the more dangerous Twisteds. That being said, stepping into the elevator made his entire being just shiver at the atmosphere surrounding them.

☁ He didn't like it. He needed to fix it. Especially his trio. Yeah, his. Fight him for it. He's already called dibs. You can't.

☁ Astro's eyes are locked onto your form as you stretch your legs, holding your ankle to your butt for a few seconds before switching. You're mindlessly listening to Goob. Sprout knows Goob rambles when he's nervous and he's rambling faster than Sprout can keep up. Cosmo himself is burrowed into Astro's shoulder, hiding his face in the fur neckline as if refusing to see what'll come of the run.

☁ Sprout doesn't blame him. His memories from being a twisted are blurry at best, but even he can remember Pebble's twisted form. The snarls that rang out as he achieved top speed. He was fast. Impossibly so. Faster than any one of them.

☁ But you were bound and determined to get them all back. Every. Single. One of them.

☁ The thought makes him bite at his lip as he huffs. He had chosen Teagan's trinket for the sole reason of having that heal ready to go no matter what. The one relief he had was that Cosmo wouldn't be so alone in this anymore. He knew Cosmo had a habit of spreading himself too thin, especially when it came to healing you or Astro, and the thought made his chest bristle.

☁ No more. He'd be there for the worst case scenarios. While he wasn't the fastest toon out there he still was fast. He was fast and could run. He had stamina. He'd be assed before extracting anything worth a damn, but he knew damn well how to distract well enough to buy you or Goob a few minutes.

☁ Nodding to himself, he placed a hand on your shoulder as the elevator stilled, ending the time they all had to prepare. "You got this, bud. We'll be cheering you on the entire way."

☁ You snorted at the nickname, taking a deep breath. "Bud? Like a flower bud I'm guessing? Where did that come from?"

☁ He smirked at the question, watching the large gears begin to slowly turn as the door slowly opened. "Well, when a mommy strawberry and a daddy strawberry love each other berry much-"

☁ He nearly cackled at Cosmo's affronted shout of his name while Astro boo'ed the pun. You gave a soft chuckle before shaking your head, shooting him a look. "Unbe-leaf-able." You scoffed good naturedly before taking off with Goob by your side.

☁ This time Sprout joined Astro's boos. It was only fun when he did it. Ask Fin.

☁ Don't ask him.

☁ Running off, it feels almost familiar the way he and Cosmo stick together, Astro splitting off to use Vee's trinket quickly to ease the pressure on you and Goob. He watched Cosmo's back and by the time that machine was finished, the other's were as well. Astro met back up with them halfway back to elevator, giving both him and Cosmo a once over before nodding them inside and waiting for you.

☁ And Goob, I guess.

☁ It's almost prideful, the way Sprout watches Astro's power light up the ground below him, fluttering around yours and Goob's feet as the three of you quickly make your way into the elevator with it slamming shut behind you.

☁ The thick tension is back and heavier than a bad pun can fix. So Sprout does what he does best really. He waits for his trio to be done browsing the shop (Like the heavens blessed the run, Dandy was there with the serum on a pillow and both a bandage and box of chocolates). Cosmo is just short of tapes needed for a band, only to light up as you pass him some you swiped while distracting.

☁ He's quick to wrap his arms around you, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek with a quick nuzzle, leaving you just dazed enough you're staggering as he swipes the heal. Astro is behind you with a small chuckle, ensuring you don't fall before handing over his own stack of tapes and taking the box of chocolates as Goob pays for the serum.

☁ Sprout has no idea where all these tapes are coming from and is almost a little pissed. If it was anyone else, he would've been. Except Goob. Though, Goob paid for the one thing everyone agreed upon buying so even then he's hard pressed to stay mad. Still. Everyone's heals are on thin ice until further notice.

☁ Except his three of course.

☁ By the time the three of you are done and Dandy is preparing to disappear, he's already rounding you into a group, checking every single one of you for so much as a scratch.

☁ When nothing comes back, he turns to rubbing at your already dirt stained cheek with his glove, clicking his tongue before licking the pad of it only to return it to scrub at the patch of dirt, despite your protests. Glisten's laughing in the back, along with Cosmo and Goob. Even Astro has a humored grin on his face, but oh-ho. Sprout isn't done.

☁ No, once he's satisfied, he reaches and grabs Cosmo before the swiss roll can run and repeats the process.

☁ Astro's only saving grace is the ding of the elevator. But Sprout vows vengeance. Oh, vow it he does.

☁ The next few floors flow smoothly, even if the tense atmosphere remains an ever present reminder of the responsibility on your and Goob's shoulders. You carry it with every move you make, especially cautious of the Twisteds you lead to ensure you're in top condition for the big dog.

☁ I didnt think I had this many puns in me omg

☁ By the time footsteps are echoing outside the door, Cosmo and Sprout both have enough med kits and bands to choke a horse, with everyone standing at full health. Astro himself had a bottle of pop for emergencies and a handful of smoke bombs so he could get in and out after giving you and Goob a boost and minimizing the risk. You and Goob both have quite a few things of chocolate and bottles of pop, speed candy in your palms as you both down it with more waiting.

☁ When the elevator opens, you gave them all a sad wave before taking off much faster than you normally do, quickly finding and distracting Pebble as Goob takes the other three in the opposite direction. Everyone knows the plan. They had gone over it several times in preparation for this moment.

☁ You were to be left alone to focus on distracting. Absolutely no exceptions save for the healers or Astro when the time arose. They would get in, get out and between you and Goob, one of you would pull Pebble's attention away long enough one of you could stick him.

☁ Sprout didn't like it personally, grabbing Astro and pulling him into his chest as he hid behind a box while you and Pebble passed, a rotten, no good feeling settling into the pit of his stomach.

☁ He waited until he couldn't hear either of you anymore before letting go of Astro, who gave him a thankful nod. Sprout returned it, giving a soft smile before both were looking over at the sound of a gasp.

☁ Cosmo was knelt on the ground, fingers stained black. Immediately assuming the worst, Sprout nearly screeched as he grabbed for the med-kit as Astro was grabbing Cosmo, searching for the source of the injury.

☁ "No, no, it's not me!" Cosmo shook his head, pushing away both Astro and the med-kit. "They've been hit." He continued, looking down the way you came from.

☁ Sprout and Astro's eyes followed the same direction, the former swallowing tightly. Nodding, Sprout took a step in that direction, fingers already heating up as his own power sang in his veins, only for the lights to flicker red as the last machine finished.

☁ "Get them at elevator." Astro's voice cut through, grabbing him through his blanket and tugging him in the needed direction. "We'll be there if something goes wrong."

☁ Looking back, that should've been a warning.

☁ The last few seconds of panic were always hectic. He knew this. But on a retrieval run? It was so much worse.

☁ They had all mad it back to the elevator, save for you and Goob. Goob was right on schedule, loosing the other twisteds somewhere they wouldn't bother you or anyone near elevator and skid to stop right beside where Astro and the healers were waiting, looking at the doorway they instructed you to come through. It came a clear shot for all of them to hit you should the need be, either by a heal or a shot of adrenaline.

☁ The feeling in Sprout's gut jumped and he understood why. As you appeared a feeling of uniform dread and panic split over the group. You're side was oozing ichor as you hit the doorway, absolute terror written across your features as you ducked a set of jaws that just barely missed you, sinking into the wood and crunching.

☁ That could've been you. The thought made Sprout shout as you took off towards them. You reached for your hip, tearing off the serum and throwing it at Goob, who caught it. You were out of pops and out of chocolate and the realization hit them within seconds.

☁ Goob's arms shot out just as Pebble lunged. None of them could've moved fast enough. They could only watch as Pebble's jaws bit into you side, making you scream out in both alarm and pain as tears sprung to your eyes. A chorus of shots came in a cacophony of noise.

☁ Sprout shot forward just as Pebble let out an ear piercing howl. His own arms scooped you against him as you sobbed, ichor staining his chest and scarf as he ran back to where Cosmo and Astro were waiting, equally as panicked as he felt.

☁ Goob grabbed Pebble, turning tail and just making it into the frantic elevator as it slammed shut.

☁ It was a blur from there. Cosmo's hands rushed for the med kits as Astro pumped your body with enough adrenaline and stamina to keep going. Sprout's own hands were a flurry as he used the mass of tapes he hoarded to trade their worth for life force. While normally he just infused it into the treats he kept on hand, this time he threaded it directly into the wound, even as you grew impressively colder.

☁ They needed to get back to med-bay and fast.

☁ Glisten got you all back, shouting for the others to clear the way as both you and Pebble were rushed into med-bay. It was a long night from there, all three watching and waiting for you to give some indication of being okay.

☁ Sprout never let the other two leave his sight for long after that and knew then and there this was it for him. He never wanted to feel this way again, but that contrasted so heavily with the simple fact that you weren't actually his. None of them were.

☁ But he wouldn't let that remain. That's right. Sprout gets you all together. Sucks to b you guys, he's never letting any of you live it down.

☁ After that night, he works damn near tirelessly to get the dense trio you all make to work with him rather than against each other.

☁ But it's hard. Uber hard. You're all just so...dumb. He says. With affection. None of you seemed to think yourselves capable of love! Like. What kind of dumbassery?

☁ Cosmo keeps thinking his advances are just friendly, Astro refuses to believe anything nice about him is true and you keep thinking it's another smart quip of his and he doesn't mean it.

☁ He'd kiss you all stupid for such thoughts but he fears that's not possible and he hasn't even gotten to kiss you yet.

☁ So, after a few weeks he does what he always does when stressed.

☁ He bakes.

☁ He just like me fr.

☁ He's angrily mixing a dough for those cookies the two of you ate some time ago, groaning all about everything that's wrong with his life currently as if the poor dough is at fault. "Hopeless in love they say. Oh, they're hopeless all right. And who paid the consequences? ME! I was making stupid puns for them. Puns. Me. OF ALL THINGS-"

☁ My brother in crust is going through it. He goes on and on about all he wants to do it cuddle and kiss and date the three of you. but do any of you make his life easy? No. Why would you. That would be too nice for dear old Sprout Seedly. Things can never just be black and white.

☁ "And another thing-" Sprout's shouting as he dumps the dough onto the floured counter, turning to the sink to drop the bowl into the waiting soapy water only for it to clatter on the ground as he's immediately clamping his jaw shut.

☁ "...You're supposed to be in bed." Is all he manages.

☁ You blink at him, all sleepy doe eyes and messy bed head before chuckling, holding a lazing Pebble in your arms. The rock had taken quite the liking to you and Sprout was man enough to admit that he was in fact jealous. "So are you."

☁ "I'm bakin'." He shoots back, turning back to the dough immediately and forgetting about the bowl as his cheeks light aflame.

☁ "At 3 AM?" You tease, stepping closer. He doesn't turn to look, but hears the sound of the bowl being dropped into the sink and Pebble being set down onto the ground. The pup whines, runs in a circle before trots away to lay in either his dog bed or burrow back into your bed. You're body presses against his back as your arms wrap around his waist, your bony chin laying on his back.

☁ "Yes at 3 AM. Someone ate all the cookies and didn't fill the jar." He spits, but there's not venom as he rolls out the dough. You're unbearably silent and he doesn't like it. How much did you hear previously? "You're supposed to beresting."

☁ You hum, but don't move. He almost asks what you're thinking if only so he doesn't have to overthink about it when you speak up again. "You sounded so...sure."

☁ Sprout furrows his brows. "Of?"

☁ "Us. The four of us." You mumble with a heavy breath. "Like-...Like that's all there is too it."

☁ "That is all there is too it. If we all wanna date each other, I don't see the problem." Sprout grunts, grabbing one of the cookie cutters he had set aside. It sinks into the dough under his weight just the way it should and he quickly picks up a rhythm.

☁ You're silent once more, but you don't move. He's done with nearly all the dough, rolling out the last bit for the final round of cookie cutting, when you finally move, lips tracing his spine. "Do you want that?"

☁ Sprout stops, blinks and looks down.

☁ "I think i wanted it since we've met and only now the rest of me finally caught up."

☁ That's where the other two find you later. You're in an apron with Sprout behind you, hands moving with yours as you ice a cookie. There are a few off to the side, obvious examples from where Sprout must've shown you how to decorate...Astro's face once more onto the cookie.

☁ Astro uses a star shard to pick one up, bringing it closer to him and Cosmo only to guffaw at the state of it. Cosmo snorts only to clap a hand over his mouth when you two look over. To their surprise, you and Sprout only grin. The icing is dropped as you run over, or as much as you can before all three are yelling at you to "Take it easy for Dandy's sake!"

☁ You grumble but do as told.

☁ "We made cookies." You explain, Sprout nodding behind you as if corroborate the story.

☁ "With my face?" Astro deadpans, making Cosmo snicker.

☁ "Some have Cosmo's." You explain, only to wince. "I did those ones though, so they aren't Sprout level."

☁ "I'm sure they're perfect." Cosmo cuts in, making you smile. It's one that says everything they need to know. They're probably awful, but that's what'll make them so good.

☁ "They're an offering." Sprout pipes in, setting an extra piping bag down. "Date us and we-...I'll bake you cookies." You nod eagerly at this proposition even if both Cosmo and Astro are wondering if they were the ones in fact mauled by Pebble and hit their heads on the way down.

☁ "...Date...us?" Astro cautions, almost too nervous to do so as he glances at the cookie the star shard is still holding.

☁ "Me and bud over there. You two and us two." Sprout nods resolutely even if nerves make him feel like he's going to vomit. "Like all four of us."

☁ There's silence before Cosmo is snorting into his hand. Then he's laughing. Then he's cackling. He had moved just a bit, holding one of the cookies you decorated. It's a mess of smudged icing, piled on high enough it'll overpower any taste the cookie has. It makes him laugh so hard he crouches over, even if your affronted complaints die into your own giggles.

☁ By the time Cosmo can breath again, he wipes an eye with his hand. "Everyone's so creative." He sighs, turning to look at you with a grin. "I would love to. Even if you're cookie decorating needs some work."

☁ Before he knows it, all eyes are on Astro as he blinks. A part of him is screaming all sorts of question after question ramming around his brain about schematics and the others opinions and he's gonna need a much bigger bed because he can't do cuddle shifts. If he's cuddling one of you, he's cuddling all of you.

☁ Looking at the cookie with his own face, he knows his answer before he even really has to think about it, grinning as he laughs, nodding his head.

☁ After that the rest of the cookies are decorated and stored, dishes left to dry before Cosmo and Astro are dragging both you and Sprout back to bed, practically pinning you in place as you two get the rest you missed out on earlier.

☁ For once, in a long time, no one is haunted by nightmares and the twisteds seem too far away to care at the moment.

☁ Even Pebble joins the cuddle pile with a wagging tail, pleased to see his packmates happy.

[unpublishediary]

Why didn’t you tell me?percy jackson x injured reader. (hurt/comfort) Part 2

part one ✵ part two

✵ synopsis: after a fight on the Argo II, reader tries to hide their injury but Percy is determined to find out what’s wrong… he figures it out, but hopes he wasn’t too late

✵ interest: percy jackson (HOO)

✵ warnings: mentions of blood, pain, loss of appetite, isolation, loss of consciousness, and leo.

MASTERLIST

Consciousness returned like a gentle tide, bringing with it the soft rhythm of nearby breathing. Your eyelids felt leaden, and when you finally managed to pry them open, the infirmary's muted light was a blessing to your sensitive eyes.

Percy was there, but not how you expected. He wasn't slumped in sleep or pacing with worry, he was just... staring. Sitting perfectly still in the chair beside your bed, his sea-green eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

His jaw was set, hands clasped so tightly together his knuckles had gone white, and you couldn't read his expression. You'd never seen him like this before, caught between anger and something else, something raw and vulnerable that made your heart twist.

When you tried to shift position, a deep ache flared through your side. His eyes tracked the movement, and something in him finally broke.

"Six hours," he said, voice low and rough. "You were out for six hours."

You tried to speak, but your throat was too dry. Without breaking his stare, he reached for the water glass, helping you take small sips. The gentleness of his movements contrasted sharply with the storm brewing in his eyes.

"Percy—" you started.

"No." The glass clicked against the side table. "You don't get to—" He stood abruptly, running both hands through his hair. "Do you have any idea what—" He cut himself off, turning away, then whirling back. "You were bleeding out. Right in front of me. And you didn't say anything."

The last words came out as a shout, echoing off the infirmary walls. You flinched, and instantly saw regret flash across his face.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I didn't want to—"

"To what? Trust me?" His voice cracked on the words. "To let me help you? Gods, when you collapsed, I thought—" He broke off again, dropping heavily back into the chair. All the anger seemed to drain out of him at once, leaving something much more fragile in its wake.

"I thought I was going to lose you," he said quietly, not meeting your eyes now. "And the worst part was knowing you didn't even think you could tell me. After everything we've..."

The silence stretched between you, heavy with things unsaid. When he finally looked up, the vulnerability in his expression took your breath away.

"I can't lose you," he admitted, barely above a whisper. "Not like that. Not ever." His hand found yours, tentative at first, then holding on like an anchor. "Next time you're hurt, you tell me. I don't care if it's a paper cut or a broken bone. Promise me."

You nodded, throat tight with emotion. "I promise."

Some of the tension finally eased from his shoulders. He didn't let go of your hand, his thumb tracing absent patterns against your skin. Neither of you spoke for a long moment, letting the quiet wash away the last echoes of anger and fear.

"Annabeth going to kill me for yelling in here," Percy finally said, a ghost of his usual smile returning.

"Probably," you agreed, feeling your own lips curve upward. "Worth it though?"

His expression softened as he looked at you, and that something deeper was back in his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Worth it."

As exhaustion started pulling you back under, you felt him shift closer, his free hand brushing hair from your forehead with impossible gentleness. The last thing you heard before sleep took you was his whispered, "I'll be right here. I promise."

The next two days in the infirmary blurred together, marked by the steady stream of visitors and Percy's constant presence. He'd only leave when someone else insisted, and even then he'd return looking like he'd barely slept, dropping back into his chair like it was the only place he wanted to be.

"You know," you said one afternoon, watching him fight to keep his eyes open, "your room probably has a more comfortable bed than that chair."

"I'm fine," he insisted, though he was practically slumped over the armrest. "Annie said you might be able to try walking today."

As if summoned, she appeared in the doorway. "Speaking of which." Annabeth crossed her arms, giving Percy a pointed look. "You're not going to be much help if you pass out from exhaustion."

"I don't pass out," Percy protested, but she was already shooing him toward the door.

"Go. Shower. Sleep. She'll still be here when you get back."

Percy hesitated at the doorway, giving you a look as you laughed at the exchange. "I promise not to do anything stupid while you're gone."

"Better not," he said softly, something warm in his eyes before he finally left.

Annabeth checked your bandages, nodding with satisfaction. "Walking should be much less painful now."

The first attempt at walking wasn't exactly graceful. Your legs felt like jelly after hours on hours in bed, and the stitches pulled uncomfortably. But Annabeth was patient, letting you lean on her as you made your way slowly across the room.

You'd barely made it halfway when familiar voices drifted in from outside.

"If you're going to hover, you might as well come in," she called out, amused.

Jason was the first through the door, followed by Leo, their faces lit up seeing you on your feet.

"Look who's vertical," Leo joked at the sight of you.

"Barely," you admitted, grateful for Annabeth’s support as your legs trembled. Jason immediately took that as his cue to support your other side.

"Baby steps," Leo said as you gave him a look, but Annabeth cut in,

“Let’s get you back to—”

"I've got her." Percy was suddenly there, like he'd materialized from thin air. His arm slipped around your waist, careful to avoid your injury as he took your weight from her. "I thought you were going to sleep," you murmured as he helped you back to bed.

"Tried. Couldn't." His voice was low enough that only you could hear. "Kept thinking..."

He didn't finish the thought, but his arm tightened slightly around you.

"Well, now that the gang's all here," Leo said once you were settled, pulling something from his bag, "movie night?"

"In the infirmary?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Come on," Percy sided with Leo. "She's been staring at these walls for days. And we'll keep it quiet." He looked toward the daughter of Athena.

Annabeth sighed the sigh of someone who knew not to fight it, "Fine.”

Once the others were gathered, everyone settled in around your bed. Including Leo perched at the foot with his laptop, Annabeth claiming the extra chair, and Percy back in his usual spot beside you. As the familiar opening credits rolled, you felt some of the lingering tension finally ease from your shoulders.

"Hey," Percy whispered, his hand weaving through you hair before finding hand in what had become a familiar gesture. "You good?"

You looked around at your friends, your family really, and squeezed his hand. "Yeah. I'm good."

His answering smile was soft, private, meant just for you. And as everyone argued about plot holes and character arcs, you realized that maybe getting hurt hadn't been the worst thing.

Sometimes it took falling apart to understand just how many people were there to help put you back together.

By the time the movie ended, you'd dozed off against Percy's shoulder, his thumb still tracing absent patterns against your skin. The last thing you registered was the quiet murmur of your friends' voices and the steady rhythm of Percy's breathing, anchoring you safely in the moment.

You were going to be okay. All of you were. And if hidden injuries caused this, maybe next time you’ll hide a paper cut.

part one ✵ part two

MASTERLIST

follow for more like this !! Thanks for reading!! And feel free to request!

[sesmiq]

happy birthday୨ৎ (drabble) ── .✦pairing: artist male y/n x childhood friend oc —warnings: this author have not written anything other than his uni essays for months ^^!, v rushed, not proof read, hyeon being a red flag lowk harhar, y/n developing stockholm syndrome, manipulative/yandere behavior (i do not condone irl!! all is fictional, please be safe.) —sequel ? to this! ; Lee Hyeon

7th November 2023, 11:32 PM The ticking of the clock annoyed y/n, each tick was too loud, or too sharp. Its as if it is mocking him, counting every minute of his misery. He could feel every tick like a small puncture to his already frayed nerves, his heartbeat syncing with its rhythm. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it out, but the sound only grew louder, more suffocating. He sat on the bed, one of his legs shackled to the wall, while the other wrapped in bandages, a small reminder of what had happened the day he tried to escape from the mansion. He glanced at the clock on the wall, ..it was a few minutes before his birthday, Honestly, he doesn’t even know why he bothered to keep track of the dates,, but it should be more than half a year since he's been isolated from the world. y/n let out a bitter laugh, hyeon- his supposed savior, his childhood friend, also, his captor, had gone to a quote on quote business trip after he tried to flee the mansion again. Hyeon had been gone for days, maybe even a week.. his stomach suddenly twist from hunger, the.. food hyeon had left for him (a packet of cheap instant cup noodles that lasted about 3 days or so. though, no hot water was even given to cook it.) were long gone. He misses hyeon’s home cooking. But even as the emptiness clawed at him, there was something else—something darker. A sense of longing. For Hyeon. A strange attachment that twisted inside him like a knot in his chest.

He cares about me, Y/N thought, though he had no idea where this feeling came from. It was hard to fight when his mind was fogged by exhaustion, but somewhere deep down, he felt like the pull toward Hyeon was the only thing left.

Hyeon was there during his worst, he was there the time his parents kicked him out for wanting to pursue an artistic career. He was there to lend his shoulder when y/n was dumped during their college years. (guess what happened to the person dumping y/n lolol) When is he going to come home? Did hyeon finally get bored of him? What if he never comes back? Will y/n die by himself in this stupidly large mansion in the middle of nowhere? It terrified him. As if right one cue, y/n heard a faint footstep right outside the door. His heart skipped, is his mind playing with him? Is the lack of food finally catching up to him..? And then, the door creaked open. 7th November 2023, 11:56 PM Hyeon stepped inside the dark room, carrying a box of cake along with a few shopping bags.. He looked.. calm. yet, he didnt say anything but let out a small sigh when he saw y/n’s condition. He put the stuff away before kneeling down in front y/n, his eyes softening slightly. Hyeon’s hand reached up, gently brushing the other’s hair away from his face. “You’ve been so good.” he murmured, his voice like silk., his hand sliding to cup y/n’s cheek. y/n didnt pull away, instead he leaned into hyeon’s toucj, his eyes fluttering closed as the warmth of hyeon’s hand.. was comforting compared how cold the room is. He hated it. Hes not supposed to like his captor. Hyeon’s other hand came up, tilting Y/N’s chin upward to meet his gaze. The affection in his eyes was gone, replaced by something that made shivers run down his spine. “I’ll never leave you.” he whispered, smile was gentle, as if trying to reassure his beloved. “You won’t leave me, will you?” Y/N’s heart thudded painfully in his chest, too weak to protest, too desperate to care. Hyeon’s touch was the only thing that made him feel alive again,, 8th November 2023, 12:00 AM Hyeon leaned in, his lips pressing a soft kiss to Y/N’s forehead, a gentle gesture that felt almost like a promise. “Happy birthday, y/n.”

a/n: omg a ghost is talkimg,, haha. v rushed, (as u can see) been trying to write something since idk, august? but i dont think the school excuse is gon' work,,, in all honesty i had no motivation to write, like at all. i couldnt think of a single idea (hence this sequel),, though i have a bunch of draft with what i want to write thats not even 50% completed lol i hope i can post them in the future! forgive me for going MIA ^^ i hope you enjoyed this,, will probably edit this once i wake up (currently 2:34 am) goodbye ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

[xfgpng]

all strings attached

— [ nsfw ] :: fingering, lots of kissing, pet names, fwb to lovers

— wc :: 1.2k

a loud tapping noise on her window startles her awake and she knows it’s not an immediate threat because she recognises the rhythm of the tapping.

tap .. tap tap taptaptap

she sighs and opens her curtains to reveal suna. it’s the same time every other night and she’s starting to wonder if he’s just bored or if he actually wants to see her.

“again?” she huffs, wiping the sleep out her eyes as she unlocks the window. he never enters through the door since her window had the most privacy in her building and she’s given up arguing about it.

she wonders if she should just leave it unlocked but even as a someone with good fight or flight skills, that’s irresponsible.

“yes” suna grins as he slips inside. he hands her a bouquet of flowers, her favourite.

“maybe i just change the windows and all my locks” she huffs but she hides her smile behind the flowers like she always does. he knows what she likes even when he pretends he doesn’t.

“you say that every time and yet you always open up for me” he grins, he sits on her bed. he always makes himself at home and it makes her feel funny inside but she refuses to put a name on any of her feelings.

“is that a challenge?” y/n raises a brow

she leaves the room to find a vase for her flowers and put some distance between them. she takes a deep breath, shaking her head. y/n doesn’t even know what they’re doing anymore but she’s scared to ask. she knows it could potentially ruin what they have right now and she likes him. that much she can admit to herself.

“you know you suck at avoiding me” he smirks as he leans against the doorframe.

“i’m not avoiding you” she lies, handing him a drink. “i was looking for a vase”

“sure” he grins.

he watches her for a moment before he sighs and holds her waist.

“y/n” he laughs, “why are you overthinking everything?”

“no i’m not —“

she’s about to argue but he leans down and kisses her, cupping her face.

“y/n… we agreed no labels and i know that”


her stomach sinks but he doesn’t let her freak out. suna knows her so well by now and now she always thinks the worst and maybe he’s guilty of not being completely honest with her but he’s always liked her.

he was worried she wouldn’t want more than just the sex and he was fine with that but he was almost positive she felt the same way he did and he didn’t want to mess this up.

“but i like you” he adds, “a lot”

“oh..”

“yeah ‘oh’..” he grins, “so will you relax?”

“yeah…” she smiles, “sorry … thank you for the flowers”

suna’s slender fingers gently traced along the curve of her cheek, tilting y/n’s face up towards his. his soft lips parted slightly, warm breath caressing her skin as he leaned in closer.

this time, the first touch of his mouth was feather-light, a delicate brush of their lips. then, she deepened the kiss, tongue slipping past his lips to dance with his in a sensual ballet. he felt his toes curl. y/n has always been a good kisser, ridiculously so but there shouldn’t be any reason why her kisses make his knees weak.

he wanted to leave her breathless but she reduced him to a puddle without even trying. it was impossible for him not to fall for her even if he tried.

“baby.. you—“

her hands slid down to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him flush against her frame. their bodies molded together, her breasts pressing against his chest through the thin fabric of his compression shirt. her body seemed to melt into his, hips swaying against his in a slow, seductive rhythm.

“fuck” he moaned into the kiss and she grinned, equally as breathless.

the kiss intensified, tongues twining in a passionate duel as sun: hands roamed over y/n’s body, mapping out every contour. he nipped at your bottom lip before soothing the sting with a gentle lick, drawing a soft moan from her throat. he wasn’t one to be outdone, even in moments like these.

his fingers found the hem of her shirt, teasing the skin beneath as he broke the kiss just long enough to pull the garment up and over her head.

“i need you” he whispered against her lips and she nodded.

“please” she gasps as he reached up to cup her breast, pinching and teasing her nipples.

“you’re so fucking beautiful” he grins as he steps back to admire her. y/n was truly the most beautiful woman in the world and he was lucky to have her. he’d be a fool to let her slip away because he couldn’t admit how he felt.

“this time is different. i want all the strings attached and everything in between” he cups her face again, “no more sneaking in through windows and late night visits. i want it all, if you’ll have me”

“i want that too” she smiles, “i want it all”

he lifts her onto the kitchen counter and leans down to kiss and bite at her chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth while his free hand reaches down between her thighs.

“my pretty girl” he smirks, “gonna make you feel so good tonight”

suna’s deft fingers trailed up her nner thigh, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through her body. his touch was electric, igniting a fire that spread from her core outward. y/n’s breath hitched as his fingertips brushed against the damp heat of her pussy, already slick with arousal even through her thin lace panties.

“you’re always so eager” he chuckles.

he wasn’t lying. she knew she was pent up but she’d never admit it. she had some shame after all.

without breaking eye contact, he slowly circled her clit with the pad of his thumb, applying just the right amount of pressure to make her knees buckle if she wasn’t seated. a needy whimper escaped her lips as he continued his deliberate exploration, dipping lower to tease the entrance of her pussy.

the tip of his finger probed gently, parting her folds and gathering the juices that flowed freely now. she was so hot and ready for him but she knew he’d tease her until she cried and begged for more.

“rin.. please” she moans, gripping his shoulders but from the amused look on his face, he was in no rush at all.

“patience baby” he grins, licking his lips. “we have all night”

suna’s fingers delved deeper, sliding inside her clenching warmth with ease. he began to pump them in and out, setting a steady rhythm that had her hips rocking in sync. the wet sounds of their intimate encounter filled the kitchen, mingling with y/n’s pants and his low, approving hums.

“that’s it” he kisses her temple, “good girl”

leaning in, suna captured y/n’s mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue mirroring the movements of his fingers. her hands came up to grip at his shoulders again,nails digging in as she met his thrusts with equal fervor. the heat between them was palpable, the air thick tension.

“you close?” he whispers and when she nods, he stops.

“rin!” she whines

“patience” he reminds her, grinning like the devil he is. “now let’s start again hm?”

“i hate you” she huffs in disbelief but she still spreads her legs for him once more.

[ravensliterature]

If you are taking more requests could you make more Magneto (Erik) x men 97 x reader with fluff?

A/N: Of course! Some Magneto (Erik) fluffy times coming right up!

pairing: Magneto (Erik) x Human!GN!Reader

warnings: NA

w/c: 784

Prompt: Magneto is having a nightmare, and the reader decides to provide their partner comfort.

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

He was tossing, turning, sweat dripping down his brow as they furrowed in distress. Erik has many demons that he fought through his lifetime and you had done your best to help him fight each one. He had seen the worst humanity had to offer - Yet you gave him hope. Hope that humanity could be and do better. You were better than any human he had seen before.

You slept soundly next to him, until a cry erupted in the night. Your eyes fluttered open alert. A cry in the X-Mansion could be caused by any number of things. An enemy, intruder, protestors, Nightcrawler stubbing his toes again. You lifted yourself abruptly to a sitting position to see your paramore to your left gripping his chest with a silk sheet in hand. Erik’s breathing was heavy and his head shifted from side-to-side, clearly having a nightmare.

You placed a hand on his chest, gently calling out to him, “Erik…”

He continued to toss around causing you to say his name a little louder, waking him from slumber.

As Erik's eyes snapped open, they were wide with panic, still clouded by the remnants of his nightmare. The room around him seemed to flicker in and out of focus as he struggled to orient himself in the present moment. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breaths shallow and ragged, as if he were still trapped in the depths of whatever haunted his dreams.

You could see the tension etched into every line of his face, the strain of years of struggle and conflict manifesting in the furrow of his brow and the tightness of his jaw. The moonlight streaming through the window cast long shadows across the room, painting his features in a haunting chiaroscuro.

Without hesitation, you leaned closer, your hand still resting gently on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath your palm. "Erik," you repeated softly, your voice a soothing melody cutting through the darkness. "It's okay, you're safe. You're here with me."

Slowly, as if emerging from the depths of a turbulent sea, Erik's breathing began to steady, the frantic rhythm gradually giving way to a more measured cadence. His eyes met yours, still clouded with remnants of fear but slowly clearing as he focused on your presence beside him.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I… I'm sorry."

You shook your head gently, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "There's nothing to apologize for, Erik. Nightmares happen. You're not alone."

His gaze softened, a flicker of gratitude shining in his eyes as he reached out to grasp your hand, anchoring himself to the comforting reality of your touch. In that moment, amidst the chaos of his inner demons and the uncertainty of the world outside, there was solace in the simple act of connection, in the knowledge that you were there to weather the storm by his side.

As the tension slowly ebbed from Erik's body, he let out a long, shaky breath, his fingers intertwining with yours in a silent plea for reassurance. The echoes of his nightmare lingered like ghostly whispers in the air, but with each passing moment, they faded into the background, overshadowed by the warmth of your presence.

Gently, you brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your touch light and comforting against his skin. "Do you want to talk about it?" you asked softly, your voice a tender invitation to share the burden of his fears.

Erik hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting to the window where the moon hung like a silver coin in the night sky. Memories, both distant and recent, tugged at the edges of his consciousness, fragments of a past that refused to stay buried.

"It was… a memory," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Of a time when I… failed. When I couldn't protect those I cared about."

You squeezed his hand gently, offering silent encouragement as he struggled to put words to the ghosts that haunted him. In the dim light of the room, the shadows seemed to dance around him, mirroring the turmoil of his thoughts.

"I know the feeling," you replied softly, your own memories of loss and pain echoing in the quiet space between you. "But you're not alone anymore, Erik. You have people who care about you, who stand by you no matter what."

For a moment, there was a fragile silence, as if the weight of the world hung suspended in the air. But then, slowly, Erik's features softened, the lines of tension smoothing away as he turned to face you fully, his eyes searching yours for some semblance of solace.

"You're right," he murmured, a faint glimmer of hope stirring in his gaze. "Thank you, Y/N. For being here."

Without a word, you leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, a silent promise of solidarity and support. In that moment, amidst the echoes of the past and the uncertainties of the future, there was only the simple truth of your connection, a beacon of light guiding them through the darkness.

[cripplecharacters]

Hi, I have some questions regarding confusion over a certain topic. First off, I have a character with a severe scarring on the upper right side of their body. I've heard in some tumblr ppsts that such appearance shouldn't be fetished. Then I stumbled across some posts, mentioning how the character can be described as 'pretty with it'.

For sure, I'm trying my best to normalize the looks. Because I have a love interest set up for them and while they don't mind the looks, I feel confused on how to convey their appreciation for the character's looks even with the scarring. They like the character as they are and stuff.

Sorry if this is a lot, I tend to get confused on how to handle such scenarios. And this sort of varying opinions is making me go '???'.

It's okay if you take your time to answer! Have a good day ahead of ya!

Hey!

"Fetishization of a disability" and "thinking that a disabled person is pretty" are two very different things. Despite the somewhat similar sound, they're not connected by much.

In the context of scars, fetishization would be what I would call the "Zuko situation" (yes, I love ATLA as much as the next guy, let me explain) - the scar isn't really a scar, it's more make-up than anything else. It's just the color that changes, it's all sharp edges and intricate shapes, the facial structure stays the exact same. There's no physical symptoms. Essentially, it's permanent body paint.

It fetishizes a disability by making it inaccurate, sometimes almost mystical. You don't see anyone fetishizing how real people with facial burns look like because they only like the idea of it. They don't care for us; they don't care for Face Equality or why we are offended by "villain with scar #32482". It's just a fun splotch of color to add to your OC when you're out of ideas.

Another aspect of fetishization is the "a scar is the worst thing in the whole world", the tragedy porn. It's using a disability for cheap drama. Again; it's inaccurate and exploitative. I don't see writers excited to depict my "coming to terms with my facial difference as a teenager, and eventually being proud of it" experience because where's the shock value and pity points? Fetishization, again, is about liking the idea of it, not the real thing.

Describing your character as beautiful, well, isn't any of that.

The point that I tried to make on that post was that a scar is often considered inherently ugly. That it's a stain on someone's beauty, that it would be better if it wasn't there.

"Brown beautiful eyes, thick facial hair, strong cheekbones - he managed to be irresistibly handsome even with that nasty scar going across his nose."

This sucks. It's as if the character's beauty and their disability are contradictory forces that have to fight each other. But in reality, scars and any other visible disabilities are neutral. If the character is pretty, their scar is pretty too. It's a part of them, so how could it not be?

"She was a cute girl; her pastel pink, thinly braided hair framed her face, defying gravity by curling towards her mouth. The burned skin on her lips shifted as she smiled, revealing a tooth gap. She played with her equally pink 'white' cane, holding it between the two fingers she had on her right hand, bopping it against the ground to the rhythm of the song."

This, on the other hand, just states her disability as a part of her person. It's nothing weird or shocking, she's pretty, has a burn on her face, she's blind, she's missing some fingers, she's enjoying the music - it's almost boring when compared to the usual "scar introduction". There's no "even with her horribly burnt face", no "if only she wasn't scarred she would be beautiful", no "poor thing, lost her fingers in a horrific fire" - instead, she is beautiful, and she has scars, and she is having fun. That's it.

This is my best shot at explaining the difference between "fetishization" and "yeah they're pretty :-)" ft. my questionable writing - I hope this makes sense.

I definitely took my time to answer, sorry about that. Thank you for your ask,

mod Sasza

[yourimagines]

What he likes about you fluff

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: Fluff

A = Admiration, what he absolutely adore about you: That you love his family, you love his mom and his mom loves you. Your also very gentle and quiet just like him

B = Body, what is his favorite part of your body: He loves your legs, they way you wrapped them around him when you cuddle him, he loves to lay his hands on them, just touching your warm skin.

C = Cuddling, how he likes to cuddle: He likes to be the big spoon but he loves it when you just cuddle him when he's sitting on the sofa or on his chair behind his computer.

D = Dates, what his ideal date with you would look like: Staying at home, playing video games together.

E = Emotions, how he express his emotions around you: He doesn't, he mostly keep them to himself, sometimes they slip up and you just hold him, telling him it okay.

F = Family, does he want one? If he does, when: Yes, he loves to start a family with you, he loves to have children with you and getting a dog or cat.

G = Gifts, how he feels about gift giving? What is his habit when it comes to this: He gives spoils you silently, you come home and there are flowers in a vase or some new shoes you love.

H = Holding Hands, when/how he likes to hold hands: He hold your hands when he's anxious, squeezing your hands a little bit, checking that your still here with him.

I = Injury, how he would act if you got hurt: He will get anxious, pacing around and calling his mom for support. He hates it tho.

J = Jokes, does he likes to joke around with or prank you and how: He likes to joke around, he likes to play around when you guys are playing some video games, distracting you.

K = Kisses, how he likes to kiss you: Soft but deeply on your lips. He also places a lot of kisses on the top of your head an hands.

L = Love, how he shows you he loves you: He remembers the small things you like or do, he sees everything and makes sure your always okay. He also makes sure his mom will cook some food for you because he knows you love her food.

M = Memory, favorite memory together: Having a game night for the first time together. The laughs and the fun that night was the best you guys ever had. Playing around and just being yourself with him.

N = Nightmare, what is his worst fear: Leaving him, losing you, you being hurt, hating him. just everything, he hates his anxiety.

O = Oddity, what is one quirk he haves: He's secretly a nerd in video games, he has a steam deck and he always carries it with him.

P = Pet Names, what he likes to call you: Darling and babe.

Q = Quality Time, how he likes to spend time with you: At home, playing video games or just go our for a walk close by.

R = Rhythm, what song reminds you of him: Tortoise by Frankie Stew and Harvey Gunn. When you hear this song, your mind wanders off to him. You need him and he needs you, you miss him when your not with him and life is not the same without him.

S = Secrets, how open is he with you: He tries to be open with you but sometimes his anxiety is in his way, he wants a good communication but needs some help sometimes as he cover up his emotions a lot.

T = Time, how long did it take you to get together: It took awhile, he thought you didn't liked him till a friend of him told him otherwise, he asked you out by text message and asked you later if you wanted to be his.

U = Upset, how does he acts when you’re upset: He thinks it's because of him, he freaks out and gets upset as well, when he knows it not him he stays quiet, thinking how he can fix it.

V = Vaunt, what is he proud of, Does he likes to show you off: He's proud that you like his family, that you like to game with him and that you support him

W = Warrior, how would he feel about you fighting? Would he fight for you: He wouldn't like it but would support you, he would defend you

X = X-Ray, how well can he read you: He knows when sometime up, he knows everything as he sees everything.

Y = Yes, how would he propose to you: Some where private but anywhere what you like and say yes to him

Z = Zen, what makes him feel calm: Knowing you there, holding your hands, listing to music and playing video games. he also calms down when he's alone.

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Slight Spoilers for Penacony's Story Quest

I keep thinking about this one dialogue option somewhere in the Penacony Quest, where if you ask Aventurine to give you more money, he immediately sends you more, which led me to think about how Yandere!Aventurine would most definitely love to spend as much money on you as he can as a way of convincing you to stay with him, which led to this little drabble. Enjoy!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Aventurine loves to take you shopping.

Whether it's the gilded streets of Oti Mall or the luxury departments of Pier Point, as long as the price tags are exorbitant and the clothes are high quality, Aventurine loves to take you on shopping sprees. Together, the two of you peruse store after store, boutique after boutique, shop after shop. Try and ask the gambler why and he’ll only flash you a casual smirk, drawing you closer to him and interlacing one of his hands with yours. “Do I need a reason why, love?” He questions, pulling you towards him gently and guiding you to the elevator of his penthouse. 

He can still recall the look in your eyes when he first invited you out to dinner in Pier Point. Aventurine had planned the date perfectly by getting a reservation to some state-of-the-art interactive dining experience that would surely impress you. However, once the two of you had been seated at your table, he saw you looking at your menu, eyes full of fear at the long trains of zeros preceding every item. It was a sight he’d never forget. Instantly, he told you he would pay for it all, and despite your best protests, nothing could stop him from giving the server his card

Tonight you and him are back in Pier Point, revisiting some of your favorite shops. Or rather, the shops that garnered the most wide-eyed reactions from you after entering them for the first time. You were never forthright about the shops and brands you liked, as if you didn’t want to return and buy more from them. No matter. Aventurine is always careful to gauge your reactions, a smile falling on his lips every time he sees that starstruck innocence in your gaze.

Your pure soul is so fragile. He could shatter it with a single breath. A flick of a finger. A silent stare. He knows firsthand how quickly that golden glow can fade away. So can’t he just have this? Him and you attached at the hip, the perfect image of lovers in every passing stranger’s eyes; completely in sync, moving to rhythms and melodies only he and you can hear.

He’s well aware that his grasp on you in this dance may be too tight and controlling as he forces you along with him in this spiritual tango, but he has good intentions. He knows it. You know it. It’s why you let him care for you, let him pick out your outfits and take care of your finances. Aventurine knows best. After all, he’s seen the worst parts of the world and climbed out of his own personal slice of hell. The universe is a cruel place and all he wants to do is shield you from it all by protecting the gold in your heart and the stars in your eyes. The boutiques are all devoid of anything befitting of your beauty, not that Aventurine cares. It just means he gets to go order something custom-made, tailored to fit you and match him perfectly, arguably even better than going out and buying something from a store. While it pleases him enough to know he’s paying for you, when he sees you all dressed up and matching him to a T in shades of green and gold–well, that’s an entirely different level of satisfaction.

As you begin the walk back to Aventurine’s penthouse apartment, the gambler is already looking online for new designers to contact. You ask him why he’s doing this. Once again, a soft smirk plays on Aventurine’s lips. “For starters, you look gorgeous in them,” he says, squeezing your hand a little tighter as the two of you fight your way through boulevards bustling with people. “It also makes it easier to find you in crowds when you’re all dressed up,” he adds, pausing for a moment. “And I don’t want to lose you, my love.” Aventurine lifts your hand up, softly whispering his words against the skin of your knuckles before he presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

For a moment, there’s a slight tremor in his voice, his hand clenching even tighter around your own. It’s as though he’s afraid that if he relinquishes his hold on your hand, he won’t just lose you in the crowd, but forever.

The unspoken reason–that he likes to make sure everyone knows you’re his lover–lingers in the air around you like arms around your shoulders.

[lalacliffthorne]

⚔️ I really don't think now's the best time ⚔️

Azriel x Reader

summary: battlefields are really not the right place for important revelations.

notes: like I said, this is totally inspired by that iconic scene in Pirates of the Carribeans. there's a shit ton of fighting involved, so prepare for graphics. if you want to go all in, listen to this specific part of the soundtrack over and over again and the vibes will be immaculate. now go and have fun, kids.

______________________________________________________________

The middle of a battlefield was arguably the worst place for any kind of not remotely expected revelation.

“Why,”, gritting my teeth, I swung my sword and neatly decapitated the huge, wolf-like beast, “do they,”, dodging a blow, I dropped to my knees, whirling through the mud and slicing open another one's belly, “keep,”, I slid to my feet and finished in an angry, “coming?!”

Slashing my sword across a soldier's throat, I turned around. A gust of wind sent a splatter of rain right into my face, strands of soaked hair clinging to my cheeks as I breathed heavily, my gaze darting over the world going to shit around me, my heart rising in my chest as I tried to catch a glimpse at the familiar sight of blue blazing siphons and leathally flowing shadows.

The battlefield was complete and utter chaos. The heavy rain that had set in only shortly after the fighting began had turned the land into one huge muddy puddle, dirt splashing and covering allies and enemies alike. Our defenses were close to being overrun. In the sky, only a few Illyrians were left fighting alongside Gwyn, the only Valkyrie on the northern flank, up against gryphons with talons like iron and blood red eyes. The rest of the Illyrians had taken to the ground, now fighting side by side with the Fae warriors left on foot, but more enemies seemed to just come flooding from the North, like a never ending stream of monstrous beasts and soldiers armed to the teeth.

Something churned in my chest, and I had to fight the surge of dread rising in my chest.

Unless Feyre turned up with reinforcements soon, we were dead.

There was a call of my name, deep and thundering over the sound of battle, and when I slashed my swords over one beast's throat and raised my head, my heart tilted in a wild flutter.

Azriel kicked a soldier back before turning to look at me over his shoulder. His dark hair was soaked by the rain, mud sprinkled over his armor, the sword in his one hand and Truthteller in the other gleaming with blood. His eyes looked wild, but something flashed through them for nothing more than a second when they found mine.

“I need to tell you something!” His deep voice reverberated over the battlefield.

I sent a soldier flying with a kick to the chest and caught another's blade with my crossed ones, yelling back: “I'm a little busy at the moment!”

Slicing my swords down, I dropped to my knees, sliding over the muddy ground and taking down a row of soldiers with blades to the back of their legs before coming back to my feet, and my breath hitched, my heart dropping out of rhythm when Azriel appeared right in front of me from a cloud of shadows, wet hair curling and mud and blood spattered over his face as his eyes darted over my face, wild and almost desperate.

“It can't wait!”, he called.

Breathing heavily, I stared up at him through the rain pelting down, feeling the ache of my sore body wash over me now that I wasn't moving, and my brows furrowed as concern tightened my chest; because I had never seen him so blatantly unguarded and expressive, emotions practically swirling in his eyes.

“What –“

Azriel pushed me back, and I whirled around, deflecting a blow of a soldier coming at me as the shadowsinger rammed his daggers into another one's chest in the place I had just stood, rain running over his face and shadows rising, wrapping around a third soldier's throat.

“I really don't think now's the best time!”, I yelled, the slight absurdity of Azriel of all people deciding he needed to talk in the middle of a battlefield making my voice dip almost comically.

"This might be the only time!” Azriel's deep voice vibrated over my skin, his rough shout audible even over the roar of the rain and the clashing of weapons, and I whirled around, sword flying down on a soldier's neck and sending blood spattering.

A hand closed around my biceps and pulled me back, then I was spun around, and my heart skipped into my throat when Azriel's chest pressed into mine and he dipped his head, his eyes flying over my face as streams of rain ran over his own, and something like desperation flashed through them when he called over the war cries and clashing of weapons: “I –“

His eyes darted up as my instincts flared in warning, and we moved at the same time, his shadows throwing up a wall against a wave of ash arrows as I slid past him and threw one of my swords at the beast, huge and bear-like, leaping at us. The weapon sank into its side, causing it to crash onto the ground, and I whirled around and rammed my other sword into its throat.

“I need you to know –“ Azriel broke off again, dodging a sword and gutting the belonging soldier in one smooth movement, and I landed a kick on another soldier's back.

“Are you sure this can't wait?!”, I yelled back, diving to avoid a blow to the head and rolling off over my shoulder, sliding through the mud and baring my teeth at a beast that growled back before jumping at me, and I dipped and slit it's throat.

Azriel stabbed his daggers into another wolf-like monster, siphons blazing as he beat his wings and a wave of shadows rolled away, drowning a row of soldiers as he turned, and something staggered in my chest at the sight of him; shadows shrouding his tall, lean body and curling around his shoulders, even broader under his black armor as a flash of lightning illuminated his face.

Even caked in dirt and blood, drenched by the heavy rain as drops of water ran from his hair over his cheekbones, he was utterly and annoyingly beautiful.

“Yes!”, he called back, and I whirled around, swords slashing and reflecting another strike of lightning as thunder rolled and I knocked a soldier to the ground. “I need you to know tha–“

There was a snarl, and I dove out of the way, rolling through the mud as a beast crashed into the spot I had been in a mere heartbeat before. I pushed myself up and slammed my swords down into its back with an angry sound, then I raised my head, my heart thrumming and adrenaline rushing through my veines, and my eyes met golden ones, desperate and wild and only hesitant for a second before the chaos vanished, replaced by something else, something deep and worldshaking. Then Azriel's deep voice rumbled over the noise of the battle.

“I love you!”

The world fell still for a moment. Became quiet and stagnant as my heart did one mighty leap.

Then time fell back into place, something staggered in my chest, and my eyes grew wide.

“What?!”

Somehow, I dodged a blow crashing down out of nowhere, parrying another and directing it to the side as I slid my other blade over the soldier's throat, ramming my shoulder into his chest to push him back before turning around wide eyed, and my gaze met another, shining like amber in sunlight.

“You –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made me duck, and I swerved, dropping to my knees and sliding over the muddy ground. Ramming my swords into two soldier's lower regions, I pulled them out and used the momentum to push myself to my feet. Then I whirled around and yelled, disbelief and sheer shock making my voice rise an octave: “You what?!”

A hand closed around my wrist and pulled me forward, and I stumbled into a solid chest, my heart jumping into my throat as my head whipped up and I could feel the sensation of shadows rising behind me and heard swords dropping and a struggle. But it all felt far away, because I could feel Azriel's body press against mine and his eyes were piercing, looking wild and desperate and pained when he called over the noise of the battle, voice rough: “I love you!”

My throat closed as I opened my mouth in shock; Azriel pulled me past him, and I whirled around and parried the blows of a soldier, slicing my swords over his arms before ramming my blades into his chest, then I threw my head around, my wet hair clinging to my face, and Azriel dropped another soldier. For a second, our eyes met, mine wide and completely dumbfounded, then he dodged a blow.

“You –“ I tried to get closer to him but almost got jumped by a huge beast. Shadows wrapped around me and pulled me back, and Azriel slit a soldier's throat before looking back at me, rain running over his face and desperation flashing through his eyes as he yelled: “I had to make sure you knew!“

A war cry made me spin around, and I dodged, swerving the blow of a sword and slashing my own across the soldier's throat, blood spattering as I yelled back in almost comical disbelief: “So you're telling me now?!”

A hand wrapped around my wrist, whirling me out of a beast's reach and right into the way of a sword crashing down, my own blades catching it effortlessly. A familiar scent rose into my nose, distinct even under the smell of blood and dirt, and my heart thrummed into my throat as I pushed, my swords sinking into the soldier's chest, then I spun around, rain dripping over my skin as I stared wide eyed at the male right in front of me. He was so close that I could hear the roughness in his voice even though he didn't shout, one corner of his lips quirking almost helplessly as his eyes dragged over my face like he wanted to ingrain it into his mind when he called hoarsely: “Better late than never.”

My heart skipped into my throat as I stared up at him, and my lips parted, but then Azriel's eyes darted up, and he pulled me out of the way, his sword catching the one of an enemy soldier.

“What –“ I gutted a gigantic wolf, widening my eyes as I threw the shadowsinger a disbelieving look. “How late is late?!” I ducked, swerving the blow of a sword and ramming my own blade into the side of the soldier's neck.

“I couldn't lose you! If you knew -"

"Azriel!" My shout made his head whip around, and I stared at him, breathing heavily, feeling an ache build under my ribs as I widened my eyes desperately. "Since when?!"

"Since the day you stayed up with me for first time!” Azriel dodged a blow. “Probably even before that.” He raised his head, and something rose in my chest when his amber eyes found mine, his voice raspy when he called lightly: “Probably from the moment I met you and everything went silent.” His gaze flickered over my face, and my heart skipped and tumbled at the emotion swirling inside as he added hoarsely: “I think it's always been you.”

My throat closed up, and I kicked a beast to the side and sliced through some soldier's necks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it's you.” Even though Azriel's voice was raised, I could still hear how unsteady it was, raw as the words tumbled from his lips as he called them over the raging battle around us. “From the day I met you, there was something about you that made everything wash away, that made breathing easier, everything easier, even though you drive me insane sometimes! Something that makes me want to be with you, all the time, that makes not being with you fucking ache!” His eyes flickered over mine, chest rising and falling quickly with his heavy breaths as rain streamed over his face, and his throat worked like he was trying not to swallow.

“And it scares the shit out of me, but I don't care anymore!” His rough voice sent shivers down my spine when his amber iris found mine. “You're it.”

Something rose in my chest, fluttering so wildly it felt a little difficult to breathe.

“Why the hell did you never say anything?!”, I yelled in disbelief, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he dodged a blow, slicing the soldier's throat.

“Because I was afraid you didn't feel the same, and I couldn't lose you!”

“What?!” Rain pelted down at me, my soaked armor becoming heavier with every moment, but for a change, I didn't feel any of it. Breathing heavily, I stared at the godsdamned beautiful male, and my heart rose, rose until it was in my throat and the world turned into a tilt.

“Of course I do!”

Azriel's head whipped up, and I kicked a soldier away and slashed his throat before turning around, feeling the words echo through me as I yelled: “I love you too, you idiot!”

As the last syllable left my lips, Azriel stared. Stared as something seemed to rise in his eyes. Then darkness wrapped around him, and he appeared in front of me like formed from shadows. His amber eyes were bright with desperation and something so much deeper, it caused my breath to simply still. Caused my heart to swell and time to slow as he took one last step and slipped his arm around my waist, his scent washing over me in an intoxicating wave, his movements never faltering as he leaned down without an ounce of hesitation, and something shifted in my chest, locking into place with a soundless snap when his lips crashed onto mine in a hard, desperate kiss.

My heart pulsed once. Twice, as something bloomed under my ribs, warm and rising until it thrummed through my whole chest, pulling towards the male pressed against me, body tall and solid and unwavering, and I sucked in a soft, trembling breath.

Oh.

Slowly, Azriel broke the kiss, like he had to force himself to pull back, his nose brushing against mine and causing my heart to miss a step. Then he slowly raised his head, and my breath hitched, gave out completely for a second when I caught the way his iris shifted like amber in golden sunlight, lips parted and gaze piercing mine.

There was a war cry behind me, and Azriel's eyes snapped up, sharpening.

My heart flew, and my instincts kicked in.

Azriel pulled me out of the way with a growl, and I whirled around, swords clashing with two others, blocking their blows as I dropped to my knees and turned, and the blades found their home in the soldier's stomachs. Pulling them out, I raised my head, and my throat closed up when I saw our lines slowly beginning to unravel while the steady stream of beasts and soldiers didn't seem to waver.

My gaze found Azriel, in a cloud of shadows, teeth bared in a snarl and blades flashing in a clash of lightning, rain pelting onto his shoulders, and that feeling in my chest rose until I was sure it had to be visible, like a golden light thrumming under my ribs.

“Azriel!”, I shouted desperately, and he slammed the hilt of his sword onto an enemy soldier's head before turning around, amber eyes finding mine.

My heart tightened almost violently, and before I could stop myself, before even really thinking, I called, my voice a little weak: “Marry me?”

Azriel froze. Stilled on the spot as shadows swirled around him, catching ash arrows and knocking out soldiers, his eyes piercing mine as emotions swirled through them like the storm above.

And suddenly I knew he felt it. Maybe not yet that the bond was vibrating in my chest, thrumming in synch with my racing heart. But that he knew.

Azriel blinked against the rain pouring over his face, and I could see how he suppressed the urge to swallow. Then he shouted, his deep voice causing my heart to flutter: “Gwyn!”

My breath hitched, and Azriel's eyes pierced mine, golden and bare and burning as he yelled: “Marry us!”

“I'm a little occupied right now!”, Gwyn shouted from high above us, cursing as her winged horse barely managed to swerve around a gryphon.

A soldier came at me, and I dodged his blows, sliding my sword over his chest.

“Gwyn!”, I yelled, my voice breaking, and somehow, she must've heard it over the noise and chaos, because she yelled back, only halfheartedly annoyed: “Fine! If I fall, it's your fault!”

I landed a kick on the soldier's chest and sent him flying backwards, then I turned around, and Azriel was there, his hand wrapping tightly around my wrist as he pulled me forward until we were chest to chest, and that golden thrum in my chest soared at the way his eyes pierced mine.

“Dearly beloved,”, Gwyn yelled over the roar of thunder, “we've gathered here today to pull every single one of your feathers, you miserable excuse of a bird!”

There was an irritated screech followed by a scuffle high over our heads, and Azriel pushed me back as two enemy soldiers came at us with swords drawn. Swinging around, I sent my blade down onto the right one's hand, severing it cleanly, and as he screamed, I shoved my sword into his chest.

Azriel called my name, and when my head whipped around, his hand closed around mine, pulling me out of the way of a beast and with my back into his chest, his deep voice rumbling through my body when he shouted over the rain: “Do you take me,”, I kicked out and the beast yelped, “to be your husband?”

Slashing my sword over the beast's snout, a laugh bubbled in my chest when Azriel spun me around, and my heart rose in my chest when I stared up at him, feeling pressure build in my throat as his eyes darted over my face, almost like he was expecting me to change my mind, pull back -

“I do!”

Azriel blinked, and his eyes brightened, became as radiant as amber held into the evening sun. Something shifted in my chest when a smile spread over his face, widening with every second, until creases formed in his cheeks and crinkles around his eyes, and I had to physically fight to keep myself from burying my fingers in his messy hair and pull him in to kiss him.

There was a war cry from our left, and I widened my eyes and jumped back, feeling the a blade whizz down where I had been standing just seconds before, and Azriel growled, wings flaring and sending out a wave of shadows that took down the row of soldiers behind him as I parried the next blow and slammed the soldier to the ground.

Whirling around, I grabbed Azriel's outstretched hand and yelled: “Do you take me,”, I ducked under his arm and blocked a blow, “to be your wife?” Azriel pulled me back, parrying the next as I stabbed my sword into another soldier's stomach. “On the good days and the bad; though,”, smoothly slicing the soldier's throat, I growled, “we might not see a lot more!”

Azriel's grip tightened, and he twirled me around, pulling me out of the way of another soldier, and my heart fluttered violently when my chest pressed into his and that golden feeling thrummed when Azriel nodded, eyes darting over my face and deep voice hoarse when he called over the rain: “I do!”

My breath hitched and heart fluttered, the feeling in my chest rising, and above us, Gwen yelled: “Then hereby, you may be bound! Bound by soul, bound by heart, bound to one!”

There was a flare of heat in the middle of my chest, and my breath hitched when Azriel's grip tightened like he felt it too; the burning of a tattoo appearing on his skin, the sign of the vows made visible in ink.

Gwyn's voice echoed through the skies when she yelled: “You now may –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made Azriel and me dart apart.

“You now –“

I dodged a blow, Azriel's hand closing around mine and spinning me around to parry another as his sword clashed with a third.

“You may kiss the –“

Thunder struck, I ducked under a beast's claw, then Gwyn shouted in frustration: “Godsdamnit, just kiss her!”

My heart surged and skipped and Azriel pulled me around; his arm wrapped around my waist as mine slipped over his shoulder and I could feel him dipping me back lightly as he leaned down, then he kissed me.

Kissed me as rain poured down our faces, my free hand slipping up to cradle the side of his neck and my breath hitching as I kissed back, deep and desperate, and a hoarse sound rumbled in Azriel's throat as he tightened his grip around me, kissing me like it was the first and last time.

The sound of a horn ripped me back into reality, reminding me that the world was close to ending.

Azriel pulled me back up onto my feet, breaking the kiss, and I was thankful that he was just as out of breath as I was, could feel his heart pounding just as quickly. Then he raised his head, and when I looked over my shoulder, my heart skipped high as relief so kneebuckling washed over me, I was glad Az was still holding me.

The cavalry had arrived.

“Come on, you two!”, Gwyn yelled somewhere above us, sounding gleeful. “Let's finish this!”

I raised my head, and Azriel's arm slipped away from my waist, amber eyes finding mine. For a second, I could see something flash through his gaze, like he expected me to pull back, suddenly regret this.

But I just sent him a wide, wicked smile.

“Shall we?”

~

It was still raining, but the storm had moved on. In the west, the clouds were breaking up, allowing the light of the sinking sun to flood over the lowlands, making the light rain shimmer as a rainbow spanned across the sky.

Breathing in deeply, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes as I felt the rain drizzle onto my face and body, washing away the smell of blood from the air and only leaving the scent of wet grass and moss to fill my nose with every slow inhale.

Feyre's arrival with the reinforcements had turned the tide, every last warrior gathering all their remaining strength. Still, there had been many losses, even after our victory, and wandering through the bloody mud, paying respect to the fallen, had caused a weight to rest on my chest, one that could not even be brushed away by the knowledge that my friends, my family was alive; exhausted and strained and with quite a few scratches, but alive.

Which was why I was standing on a hill, a little away from the tents, just listening to the patter of rain and breathing in the clean air as I felt the tension slowly melt from my muscles, leaving only exhaustion and heaviness in my limbs and a feeling of being so tired, I felt like falling asleep on the spot.

I felt him before I heard the call of my name, the feeling in my chest that had shrunk to a small, warm hum pulsing and growing.

Tipping my head back down, I looked over my shoulder, and my breath hitched when Azriel came towards me.

Just like me, he was still in his armor, specks of mud and blood on his cheeks, hair damp and curling like he had attempted to dry it and then got distracted. His dark brows were drawn together as his golden eyes pierced into mine.

“What are you doing?”, he called, his low, deep voice sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

He looked so close to his usual scowl, I felt my heart rise and skip as my lips curved up.

“Cleansing,”, I called back, and Azriel huffed, but it almost looked like he was fighting to keep his lips from twitching as he crossed the last bit of distance.

Turning around, I squinted up at him through the drizzle of rain, the thrumming thing in my chest soaring at the sight of him.

Godsdamned beautiful.

Up close, I could see the signs of exhaustion. His shadows were lazily swirling around his feet, his wings were drooping so much they almost grazed the ground, and his eyes were tired. But something sparked in them when they moved over my face, my heart skipping when I could feel his warm breath brush over my forehead.

“You know we have this ingenius invention for that? It's called a shower.” His voice was so dry, my heart skipped, and a smile slowly spread over my face, wide and bright and freeing in a way that caused something to stagger in my chest.

Azriel's eyes narrowed in, and his shoulders seemed to sag a little.

“I know.” Squinting up at him, I felt my smile grow smaller as I shrugged softly, something tightening gently in my chest.

Azriel's gaze flickered over my face. Then he blinked, and my heart fluttered into my throat when he reached out, gently pushing a wet strand of hair out of my face. His fingers, out of his gloves, brushed over my skin, warm and rough, and my breath hitched, a shudder running over my spine.

One corner of Azriel's lips curved, and that thing in my chest pulsed and thrummed at the way his golden eyes started to shine.

The shadowsinger dipped his head, and my heart skipped and jumped when his lips brushed over mine. Then his thumb and forefinger gently closed around my chin, and Azriel tilted my head back to kiss me, deep and slow until I sank into his chest, my knees simply too tired to keep up with the way all of him made the world spin. My fingers curled into his sides, and Azriel's other hand rose to move to the back of my neck, gently tangling in my hair, and his thumb brushed over my skin until a soft sound broke from the back of my throat and my whole body shuddered.

Azriel's lips curved up against mine. Then he slowly pulled back, and my heart skipped when I saw his eyes, lids heavy and iris hazed over, the only thing betraying him; showing that I had more than the same effect on him that he had on me.

The thought made something rise and flutter in my stomach.

I blinked. Then I furrowed my brows and mumbled: “Crap.”

Azriel's gaze cleared a little, brows drawing together, and his hand slipped down to rest against the side of my neck. “What?”

I stared past him into nothing.

“I just realised we have to explain to Rhys and Cass that we got married without them.”