#i love him but i would not hesitate to break every bone in his body because of this

[livingd34dgrl]

abigail hobbs brain rot sorry, but i’m like tormented by the tragedy of her existence, i think about her all the time, my silly lil gal, we should’ve gotten more of her character, ESPECIALLY the time gap where she was hidden away-like what they did in s3 showing how they faked her murder-how do they keep the show going without answering me on my questions? how close did she attempt to get to hannibal to stay alive? did she know they were planning to run away? did she get comforted with the thought of a new life, far from her old one? do you think the reason she was able to sleep in that stupid house was because of the comfort that maybe-just maybe, she could live a life? she was far from being will or hannibal, she wouldn’t have survived even if will left with them, her death was at every twist and corner-and i think the worst part is she knew-god she knew and walked right into the role she was supposed to play when death came knocking-how do i recover from that? how do i recover seeing her grasping for any end that doesn’t involve her dying, shaking and gasping for air on a kitchen floor???

[tetzoro]

˖˙ ꔫ — HAPPY BIRTHDAY TETSU ˚

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : getting ready for kuroo’s birthday dinner has brought on a few unexpected surprises.

꒰ contents ꒱ : kuroo tetsuro x reader ; fluff. full of silliness and made with lots of love. reader is pregnant but kuroo doesn’t know, brief alcohol mention, dividers by adornedwithlight — WC : 1.8k

An unnaturally high-pitched, almost bone-chilling scream sounds off in the bathroom. The tube of lipstick you were holding drops onto the vanity with a small clunk before you dart to the source of the distress.

Every light in the bathroom was flicked on, the brightness overwhelming you as you attempt to focus on the scene before you. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight.

Your devastatingly handsome husband, dressed to the nines in one of his best suits, was rustling with his inky, unruly hair in a state of panic. His eyes were wide and filled with a crazed determination as he looked for something. He's never been one to fuss that much over his hair, so it worried you a little.

“Tetsu..?” You ask in a soft voice, taking a cautious step forward with the gentleness of a curious cat. “What’s-"

“I HAVE GRAY HAIR!” He dramatically exclaimed, turning towards you and pointing towards his head. You blink once, twice. In a few easy steps, you’re right in front of this man-child and gently caress his cheek, your eyes trailing from his to the small white hair he was gesturing to.

“Okay?” You look back at him, rubbing your thumb against his cheek soothingly. “It looks good, honey.”

“I can't believe it.” Kuroo goes to break out of your hold, looking back at the mirror in horror. “I just turned thirty, this can’t be happening.”

“It's only one tiny strand of hair, Tetsuro.” You sigh exasperated, walking up to wrap your arms around his slim waist. “Besides, I think it suits you. You’re entering your silver fox era, very sexy of you.”

His body rumbles against yours as he lets out a reluctant chuckle before his hands move down to rest over yours, giving them a gentle pat. The twin golden bands that adjourn your ring fingers shine under the fluorescent lights, the glint catches your eye as it happily reflects in the mirror. 

“If you say so.” He didn’t look convinced, still frowning at his reflection. If he didn’t look so adorably pitiful, you might’ve felt bad. “Just pluck it off me. Please.”

“Aw, I love it when you beg.” The pout on his face only deepens.

“Ha, ha. Way to kick a man while he’s down, babe.” The sarcasm flows past his lips, clearly unimpressed with your lack of sympathy in this life changing moment.

“You’re so dramatic.” Without hesitation, you go to grab the defenseless strand of hair and it comes off all too easily. It only takes a second for everything to click into place. “Tetsu.”

“Did you get it?” His eyes are squeezed shut, bracing for the impact that never comes.

“Kuroo.” The use of his surname has him straightening up, eyes flying open. The piece of hair falls into his palm and he looks at it, completely gobsmacked. “This is cat hair.”

The cackle of his laugh drowns out the silence in the cramped room, his head tossed back in absolute delight. Whether it’s over the fact that it was just cat hair or the simple fact of him not having gray hair yet, you’re not sure, but you can’t find it in you to be mad. Not when his amber eyes twinkle and shine as they brim with joyful tears. 

“You’re absolutely ridiculous.” You shake your head, a smile resting on your lips. The two of you were always coated in cat hair of some sort and Kuroo had an affinity for nuzzling his head against the kitties. It’s no wonder one had found its place nestled in his hair.

“Would you love me even if I was already graying?” He asks, but there’s a tone of insecurity that weaves itself into the cracks of his voice. Thirty was a new milestone, one that he had been looking forward to but birthdays always seem to shove the concept of time right in your face.

With a tenderness that came as easy as breathing, you press a sweet kiss against his lips. It quickly blooms into a life of its own as you pour everything you wish to say into it. 

The love that will remain eternal, the warmth of all the sunsets you will watch together, the endless laughs you have yet to share, the sweet promise of tomorrow and the rest of your lives together.

“My love, I'll be with you until you’re old and gray and screaming over the fact that you found a black hair in place of all that gray.” You giggle, carding your fingers through the soft, unruly strands in an attempt to smooth it all over. “I meant it when I said my vows. I'm with you forever.”

The words reassure him, letting your promise melt over him and ease all the tension out of his body. There was never any doubt, of course, but he always loved hearing the reminder.

“My sweet wife.” With a boyish grin, Kuroo spins you around and securely cradles you in his arms, gently swaying side to side.

“My silly husband.” Reaching up behind you, you affectionately pat the palm of your hand against his cheek.

The warmth of his smile cascades through you, a beam of affection that never fails to give you butterflies despite how long you’ve been together. Something that will forever remain unchanged.

Kuroo kisses the side of your head, pressing his cheek against yours as you lovingly gaze at each other through the bathroom mirror.

“You look so beautiful, by the way. The prettiest angel I've ever seen. That dress is almost unfair.” Kuroo kisses down your cheek and along your jaw. “And you smell delicious enough to eat.”

“We have dinner reservations mister, so reel it in.” You smirk, a trait you’ve easily adopted from spending years with the man who was currently pouting over the fact he had to go to his extravagant birthday dinner.

“I suppose you’re right, but I plan on thoroughly enjoying my dessert after.” Kuroo purrs, running his soft lips along your skin, kissing your earlobe before trailing down to your neck to murmur on. “I'll order that champagne you like too, we can pull out all the stops.”

“Too bad I can't drink it.” The words slip out of your mouth faster than you could reel them back in. Kuroo froze for a moment, looking back at you through the mirror.

“Haah?” He gives you a puzzled look, standing up straight. “Why not?”

The reasoning escapes you, replaced by the pitiful opening and closing of your mouth, tongue twisting in every direction as it tries to land on what to say or rather, how to say it. 

The longer you take to respond, the more Kuroo’s eyes widen. Abruptly, he turns to you, quickly grabbing your shoulders as hope shines brightly through his hazel irises.

“Are you..?” He trails off, the words escaping him as well, nothing more than a whisper. All you can do is nod a little before Kuroo envelopes you in a crushing embrace. “You’re pregnant?!” 

“I am.” You smile, letting Kuroo pick you up a little in celebration. He lets out a bark of laughter, squeezing you gently before lowering you back down.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner!” He gazes softly at you, fondness crinkling by the corner of his eyes and a smile so genuine that his dimple began to show. 

“I just found out!” You grin back at him, tears brimming your eyes and overjoyed with his reaction. “I wanted to tell you but i didn’t know if tonight was right and —“

“It's more than right.” He presses his forehead against yours, eyes searing into the depths of your soul. “It's perfect. The best birthday gift ever.”

It was no secret that Kuroo had been ready to expand your little family for a while now. It was something you had wanted too but when the timing was a little better. So you had promised him to have that conversation again after he turned thirty. 

At least this saves a little time.

Kuroo carefully slides down your body, falling to his knees in seemingly slow motion. his ear is pressed against your stomach, his hands tenderly gripping your waist. 

“Oh my god.” He whispers so softly you have to strain to hear him. “I'm going to be a father.”

“You’re going to be such a good dad, Tetsu.” You run your fingers through his inky black hair. Kuroo looks up at you, wide-eyed and hopeful as his chin gently presses against your abdomen.

“You really think so?” He asks, vulnerability licking at his tone. 

“I know so.” You smile. The reassurance flooded his system, reigniting the excitement of it all. He grins back at you once again and all feels right in the world. The ghost of his lips brush along the fabric that serves as a barrier to your lower abdomen, a place that he plans on showering with love as much as he can.

“Hang on!” Kuroo stands back up so abruptly it almost gives you whiplash. You shouldn’t wear those heels, it’s not good for the baby.”

“Tetsu, I-“ Your sentence is interrupted by a squeal as Kuroo picks you up bridal style and marches towards your room. He sits you on the edge of the bed. “Tetsu, I’m only 7 weeks pregnant.” 

“Still.” Kuroo lifts your foot, fiddling with the straps of your heel before sensually sliding it off, giving your ankle a kiss for good measure. He does the same with the other foot, his eyes set on you. “You better start getting used to this, sweetheart.”

The other heel hits the ground with a distant thud as Kuroo kisses up along your leg, the fabric of the dress annoyingly getting in his way until he slides his head under it.

“Tetsu, we have reservations.” You try to squirm away but his hands grip your hips before his head pops back out to look at you with a serious expression.

“We’re not going.” He decides, hands roaming along your body. “Let's get take out, I wanna take care of you tonight.”

“It's your birthday though.” You can’t help but pout a little, guilt slowly seeping through the cracks of excitement from earlier. If only you had kept the news a secret a little longer —

“Shh.” Kuroo sits back up so his face is directly in front of yours, nuzzling his nose against yours. He always knew when you’d retreat into your mind and never let you fall too deep before lulling you back. “You gave me the perfect gift and nothing would make me happier than spoiling you a bit.”

“But—“ 

“No buts. It’s my birthday after all, and I get final say.” With a dastardly smirk, he kisses you with all the love in the world, his palm happily resting on your stomach. The excitement of the coming days in your lives grows alongside the little one that will bring you so much joy in the near future. 

thank you very much for reading. happy birthday tetsu 💋

[anonymous-existences]

Chapter 3: New Faces, New Job, New Everything.

Continuation to the Prolouge, Chapter 1 and 2.

Danny stares at Dante in absolute shock, Red Hood? RED HOOD?? OF ALL PEOPLE. Dante had to meet the rumored and probably the most violent of the Vigilantes. And Red Hood being a literal Crime Lord makes this worse.

"He had a fat ass to be hone-" Dante Blurted with a smirk but Danny cuts him off, "No, No. Shut up. I don't wanna hear your- or my- wait no. YOU'RE gay shenanigans." Danny pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to process the whole story.

"Let me get this.. straight-... You ... Ugh.... Ancients save me. YOU. MET. RED HOOD. AFTER. Beating up... Someone in his HAUNT?? And what do you mean he's a revenant? I thought frostbite said those were the "rare cases" of semi-halfas" Danny tries to clear up all the information in his head through just yelling it out.

"Yep." Dante popping the "P" and does not elaborate on anything else but a simple 'yep'.

"Kill me fully- wait... No. Jazz wouldn't want that." Danny reminded himself and took a deep breathe.

"I am so telling Clockwork." Danny spoke out.

"Oh come on! I'm in physical probation! I defended someone from getting bad things happen to them—" Danny cut him off.

"You can say "Fucked up shit" you know stop physically censoring yourself." Danny just stared at Dante with a judgemental face. Dante gasped dramatically like he's offended by that statement.

"OH WOW. It's not like I'm trying to 'Censor' myself because you're a traumatized 13 year old kid and I'm an adult given the responsibility of YOU cuz I love you like my brother." Dante states emphasizing every word.

"You sound like a drag queen." Danny blurts out

"I look better in pink anyways." Dante smirked smugly and Danny just frowned and sighed as Dante Ruffled his hair Mischievously.

"Don't you have a job interview today?" Danny grabbed his hand and gently places it away from his poor hair.

"I already got hired. They said I fit the job." Dante sounded very proud of himself before Danny blurts out "I think they hired you on the spot because you're Eye Candy."

Dante was stunned and thought about it for a moment.

Hmm.

"Yeah I suppose but that doesn't matter now, I have a normal job and people doesn't seem to be bothered by me at all so it's very good." Danny imagined that if Dante had a tail he'd be wagging it and Danny didn't like that mental image of a fucking CATBOY DAN- "UUUUUGHH! I hate that." He drags his palm on his face dramatically.

"And you Danny. Is coming with me to work. I am not leaving you in the apartment because. I will list it.

1. Someone might break in and you're not safe.

2. You might kill that someone either through ghost or through your tendencies to grab that goddamn creep stick and hit without hesitation.

3. I am not letting you play DOOMED for 7 hours straight, But I will let you play Minecraft.

4. You or well, We. Tend to roam away from home when we are bored, in this case you do. And ding ding ding we're in Gotham.

5. If you ever got into any danger. I would not worry if you're okay. I would worry if you killed someone first.

That's your list."

Dante started Loud and Clear.

"Fine but I get to bring both my phone and headphones with my switch." Danny Complied with a deal making Dante smile triumphantly, "Fine with me Twerp, and you better behave at the cafe." He chuckles and Pats Danny's Head Gently but still mischievously.

Danny also giggled, Danny's chest felt warm. And his core buzzed in familiar happiness as Dante and Danny Pressed their foreheads into each other before Dante pats Danny's shoulder and stands back up with a groan.

"Let's go kid, get ready now." Dante stretched his body and cracks some of his "old bones" as Danny heads to his bedroom and takes his sling bag and puts his 'neccesities' inside with a smile.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tim heard about a new Cafe opening nearby Gotham U, although at first he was suspicious of how so many people are already visiting it and even the lines reach outside. He soon found out why. One of their workers was rumored to be apparently "eye candy" or whatever they called people who are very attractive.

This worker was the main Barista and he apparently makes the drinks Infront of the people and he was good at it.

That got Tim even more curious, How attractive does someone have to be that people of all genders are lining up on a new store as if a celebrity is inside. And so he decided to wait in line like any other student as to not direct any attention to himself because that would be utterly humiliating for him.

He waited.....

And waited....

And kept Waiting and Waiting....

Until finally, what felt like an eternity he finally got to order His Coffee.

It seems the rumors are true, the bartender is indeed attractive. Tim got even more curious about how the big man seemed to have canine sharp teeth, oddly pale complexion that almost looks... Purple? And Lazarus Green Water with Red Rims.

"An Americano with two shots please.." He states to the Cashier, "And name please?" The Cashier asks again.

"Timothy." He calmly tells her as she writes it down to a receipt and hands it to the orders That the "Eye Candy" Man and Another Worker was Making.

Tim sat on a nearby table. It was the only table that happened to be empty. Except a 13 years old kid just sitting there playing... Minecraft? Okay-.

The kid stared at Tim, Tim stares back. 'He looks like adoption Bait.' Tim thinks to himself then suddenly he slowly feels weird, as if he's being judged intensely, Unfortunately and possibly even worse than how Damian judges him.

"You look like an overworked 9-5 office worker that has no paid vacations or time off for a student." the kid suddenly speaks out and it felt as though Tim had just been shot with a non-existent arrow of truth.

"Wha-" Tim tries to ask but the kid interrupts him before he could even start, "you should really get some sleep and maybe lessen your intake of Coffee... Ah right. Name's Danny by the way. Sorry. You just started staring at me so I couldn't help but state my opinion." The kid, or well... Danny said as he went back to playing Minecraft on his switch.

"I- it's... It's fine. I know I need sleep... All college students do- it's normal." Timothy just sighs and nods subtly, knowing full well this random kid is right.

Goddamit, the kid acts like Damian a bit too- and he has the typical black hair blue eyes appearance, possibly an orphan attitude. Tim continues to have a subtle Life Crisis in his head.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

'Such a weird person.' Danny thought to himself and chuckled softly.

He continues to play Minecraft with Tucker and Sam to Pass his time and so he doesn't go all deppreso mid-daylight. The amount of people entering the cafe was still... Concerning at the very least, now that the customers have heard Dante's voice... They started to call him the "Everything in one Package." Which was way worse than "Eye Candy" to be honest.

'Vlad would be confused and shocked.... I wonder how Ellie is doing.. hopefully not too bad....' Danny hums to himself as he made a gravesite ingame for Jazz to remember her by.

It has become tradition for these teens to make jazz a gravesite whenever they start a new world and they always made sure it's beautiful and colorful in a way Jazz would have liked it.

Danny smiled as he finished up the ingame Gravesite.

Although it hurts to see and do this every time, he still loves it because then he has something to remind him of her existence.

Her precious Existence as he likes to call it.

"I miss her so much..." He mutters to himself.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"I'm so... Tired." Dante was plopped onto the couch lazily.

"I am scared to be an adult like you..." Danny just stared at Dante as he Begrudgingly sat back up from the couch to stretch his body and head to the kitchen to cook.

"I met a random older student today, we kinda talked. He called me adoption bait which was funny because technically I am considering V l a d." Danny laughed.

"Adoption Bait my ass, who would want to adopt a little messy homeless looking goblin." Dante just chuckled smugly and Danny Pouts. " I am not a homeless looking kid" he tries to defend himself "that's the thing you're most concerned about in my sentence?" Dante tucked his hair back into a tight Ponytail and let's it flow naturally like fire.

"I know I'm a goblin, it's just how I am." Danny proudly says and pats his chest and puffs it out with pride.

"Ofcourse you do... Ah right. Kiddo I have a surprise for you tomorrow. So make sure to get enough sleep today alright?" Dante kneels down to Danny's Height to speak to him properly.

Danny thinks for a second, "Sure! I like surprises!" Danny giggled nodded profusely in excitement.

"Good." Dante smiled softly, he loves it when Danny is happy. His core loves when Danny is also happy. A happy Danny is a happy Dante.

He wishes this could go on forever. Just Danny smiling and not screaming for his life in his nightmares.

My Arm is cold from writing this <33

Enjoy though.

[ara-the-great]

Savage Kisses

Tw: slightly mentions of gore(?)

(This was originally a snippet from a story I was writing. So i thought why not turn it into Sylus fic.)

You remember when you first realised how much physically stronger Sylus was than you. Of course you knew he was strong but it hadn't really crossed your mind to compare his strength to yours since he was always controlling his strength around you. You didn't know what you expected when he had handed you the package. You had pestered him to let you help him carry the boxes and with much hesitation he had agreed. you had considered youself strong- at least stronger than the ladies your age- and seeing Sylus lift the boxes with ease made you sure that you could help speed along the process. What you didn't consider was the actual weight of the boxes. They were much heavier than they looked - than Sylus had let on. You nearly stumbled trying to pick one of the boxes up.

"Are you sure you want to do this sweetie? I would want you to break your back, at least not like this" Sylus 's brow had furrowed and his brown eyes gleaming with worry and mischief while his hands carried two boxes with ease. He didn't even break a sweat.

Your eyes had strayed to his arms peaking from underneath his folded sleeves. And only one word thing crossed your mind- strength.

And that's all you could think of now. Snug in those very same arms. He held you with such tenderness that it shook you. You wanted more. You wanted wanted to be closer to him, even though you was flush against his body. You could feel each cord of muscle running through him, winding around his bones like the roots of an ancient tree. They were warm, they were close but both of them seeked more. While Sylus feared that he might mistakenly hurt you- treating you like a rose made of thin iridecent frost, you wanted nothing more than to let Sylus rip into you chest and take his place beside you beating heart. You could feel his heart mirroring yous -hammering in his chest right beneath you palms. Just a bit more and you could hold it in you hands. A little more and sh-

"Y/N" with the tender call of you name you looked up at him. He was nothing but tender love and adoration at that moment yet when you looked at him, he looked as if he himself would break apart in the way he restrained himself. They were close enough to feel the the other one's breath fan across thier face. Like some heady drug their heads were dazed, nothing but instinct guiding them on.

As his eyes flickered to you lips, you leaned forward capturing his lips with you own. Urging him silently to let go of his restraints and control. To lose himself. And following you command he did. Like a man dying of thirst, he drank down every single bit of you. The desperation in the way he held you was clear as day. From the way he cradled the back of you head to the way he pull you impossibly close by you lower back. Both of them would either be incapable of feeling or lying to themselves if they had not felt how their veins seemed to be carrying molten lava along it. How each of them has no thoughts in their head except for the other. How all they now felt was the spark from eachothers skin. He swallowed each and every sound you had relinquished to him and heeded every tug you gave. They were a formidable clash of tongue and teeth. Fighting- no, dancing in unison.

you had steadied yourself by grasping his arms, your nails digging in to them in the process. But that didn't deter him, instead it ushered him further, just like you intended. You wanted to consume him whole and you intended to let him do the same.

"Sylus " you called out breathlessly, breaking off the kiss which felt nothing short of being electrocuted and drowned at the same time. You peered up at his eyes, dark, unmoving from you own. It felt like that little tint of red he had in his eyes was swallowed up entirely by darkness- by need. He leaned closer again but instead of you lips he set a kiss on you forehead. You whispered a silent prayer to the heavens for you knew you would not survive long if this man were to love you. Though you was athletic, you heart had never beat so fast. It felt as if it would explode to a million pieces Infront of him.

"You terrify me." He whispered his confession breathlessly by pressing his forehead on yous. "I have never felt so much, and yet felt so helpless. You terrify me Y/N . I fear I become nothing short of a beast at your command. You have my heart in one hand and my mind on the other. You have shaken me to my core. And you have made me loose any sense of sanity for all my thoughts are filled with you.... Look what have you done to me" he bought up a shaking hand to you fluyoud cheeks to caress it. "Y/n what have you done to me?" He smiled

[librababe99]

The Wolverine's Heart

❥・CW: Old Man Logan, Female Reader, age gap, mentions of violence and past trauma, emotional vulnerability, sexual content, body worship  ❥・Word Count: 1649

Summary: Tonight you wanted to show Logan just how loved and cherished he is....

(Masterlist)

The small cabin, nestled deep within the wilderness, was far removed from the chaos of the world. It was a place where time seemed to stand still, where the steady rhythm of nature was the only sound that filled the air. The tall pines, their needles whispering secrets to the wind, surrounded the cabin like silent sentinels, guarding its solitude. Inside, the warmth from the crackling fire cast long shadows on the walls, dancing with a life of their own.

Logan sat in his worn leather chair, nursing a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid swirled in the glass as he absently rolled it between his fingers, his mind a thousand miles away. The years had not been kind to him, and the burden of a life lived too long and too hard weighed heavily on his shoulders. His once rugged, indestructible frame now bore the marks of time—scars that never fully healed, a limp that never quite disappeared, and the ever-present ache in his bones.

But there was one thing that had kept him grounded in the face of it all—you. You had come into his life like a breath of fresh air, a balm for his soul. Despite the years that separated you, despite the scars that marred his body and the ghosts that haunted his past, you had seen something in him worth loving. And that love, gentle yet fierce, had slowly worked its way into the cracks of his heart, filling the empty spaces he thought would remain forever hollow.

You watched him from the doorway, the flickering firelight casting a soft glow on his weathered face. His eyes, though hardened by years of battle, held a depth of emotion that never failed to take your breath away. You had always admired the strength in him, the unyielding determination that kept him going even when the world seemed intent on breaking him. But tonight, as you stood there, you felt an overwhelming need to show him just how much he meant to you, to worship every part of him that he so often dismissed as damaged or broken.

“Logan,” you called softly, stepping into the room.

He looked up at you, his expression softening as his gaze met yours. “Yeah, darlin’?”

You crossed the room to where he sat, placing your hand on his shoulder. The heat from his skin seeped into your palm, grounding you in the moment. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

His brow furrowed slightly, a mixture of confusion and hesitation crossing his features. “You don’t have to do that, kid. I’m fine.”

You knelt beside him, your hands resting on his knees as you looked up at him with a determination that matched his own. “I know I don’t have to, Lo. But I want to. You’ve done so much for me, and I want to give you something in return. Please, let me do this.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours as if looking for something he couldn’t quite name. Finally, he gave a slow nod, his rough exterior cracking just enough to let you in.

You rose to your feet and gently took the glass from his hand, setting it on the table beside him. Then, with a tenderness that belied the fire burning within you, you began to undress him. His flannel shirt, worn and frayed at the edges, slipped from his shoulders, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, marred with countless scars. Each mark told a story—of battles fought, of losses endured, of a life that had been anything but easy.

Your fingers traced the lines of his scars, your touch light as a feather. “Every one of these is a reminder of how strong you are,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “You’ve survived so much…You’ve lived through things that would have broken anyone else. But you’re still here, and I’m so grateful for that.”

He didn’t respond, but the way his breath hitched told you he was listening. You continued to undress him, your movements slow and deliberate, as if each piece of clothing you removed was a layer of armor he no longer needed to carry with you.

When he was finally bare before you, you took a step back to drink in the sight of him. His body, though weathered by time and hardship, was still a masterpiece in your eyes. The strength in his muscles, the resilience in his bones, the raw masculinity that seemed to emanate from him—all of it was beautiful to you.

You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “You’re beautiful, Logan,” you murmured against his skin. “Every part of you.”

A low rumble resonated deep in his chest, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. He reached out, his hand cupping the back of your head as he pulled you closer. His touch was firm, but there was a gentleness in the way he held you that made your heart ache.

“You don’t have to say that,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you cut him off, your lips brushing against his skin as you spoke. “I want you to know how much I love you, how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You’ve given me so much, Lo Let me give you something back.”

You began to trail kisses across his chest, your lips worshiping every inch of him. You kissed each scar, each mark, each place where life had tried to break him and failed. And with each kiss, you felt him relax a little more, the tension slowly leaving his body as he allowed himself to be vulnerable with you.

Your hands roamed over his body, exploring the hard planes of his muscles, the rough texture of his skin. You marveled at the way his body responded to your touch, the way his breath hitched when your fingers brushed against a particularly sensitive spot. He was a man of few words, but his body spoke volumes, telling you everything you needed to know.

When you reached his abdomen, you paused for a moment, taking in the sight of him. His stomach, once taut and defined, now bore the softness that came with age. But to you, it was just another part of him to love, another part of him that made him who he was.

You pressed a kiss to his navel, your lips lingering there as you whispered, “You’re perfect to me, Logan. Every part of you is perfect.”

A low growl escaped him, and you felt his hand tighten in your hair. But it wasn’t a sound of anger or frustration—it was a sound of need, of desire, of a man who was slowly allowing himself to be loved in a way he hadn’t been in a long time.

You continued your journey downward, your lips and hands worshiping every part of him as if he were something sacred. And to you, he was. He was your protector, your confidant, your lover. He was the man who had seen you at your worst and loved you anyway, the man who had stood by you through everything, even when he had every reason to walk away.

As you reached his thighs, you took a moment to admire the strength in them, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed under your touch. You kissed the scars that marred his legs, the ones that told stories of battles fought and won. And then, with a reverence that took your breath away, you moved further, pressing a kiss to the most intimate part of him.

He let out a sharp breath, his hand still tangled in your hair as he fought to keep control. But you didn’t want him to hold back—not tonight. Tonight was about him, about showing him just how much he meant to you, about worshiping every part of him until he understood that he was worthy of love, that he was worthy of your love.

You took him into your mouth with a tenderness that belied the fire burning within you, your tongue tracing the contours of him. His taste was heady, intoxicating, and you reveled in the sounds he made as you pleasured him. The low growls, the sharp intakes of breath, the way his body tensed and relaxed under your touch—it was all a symphony to you, a symphony that played just for you.

You took your time, savoring each moment, each sensation. You could feel him trembling beneath you, could feel the way he was slowly losing the battle for control. But that was what you wanted. You wanted him to let go, to give in to the pleasure, to allow himself to be loved in the way he deserved.

And when he finally did, when he finally let go and allowed himself to be vulnerable with you, it was as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He came undone in your hands, his body shuddering with the force of his release, and you held him through it all, your touch gentle and loving as you brought him back down to earth.

When it was over, when the last tremors had subsided, you pulled him into your arms, holding him close as you whispered words of love and reassurance into his ear. He clung to you, his body still trembling slightly, and you could feel the way his heart pounded against his ribcage, could feel the way his breath came in shallow gasps.

But more than that, you could feel the way he had finally let down his walls, the way he had finally allowed himself to be loved without reservation, without fear. And in that moment, you knew that this was just the beginning.

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed! While this is technically a standalone fic, I do have a 2.7K story thats completely done (its smut 🤭 and definitely dives into some new territory for me compared to other work I've posted) so you could look at it as a continuation of this little "universe." I'm curious if y'all would want that later tonight or maybe tomorrow? I don't want to release anything to quickly😭 - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

[mellywritesstuff]

hey melly!! hope you’re doing well, can I request the male harbingers (expect that one dude 😭 and seperate) w a really weak reader (like she can’t fight for shi..) and they are always worried about her and are quite protective ..

hope this is ok .. feel free not to do this request if you’re uncomfortable!!

~mari :)

(Male) Fatui Harbingers x (weak)Fem!reader

—————————

Character(s): Pantalone, Dottore, Tartaglia/Childe, Scaramouche

A/N: didn’t know if you wanted scara or not so I included him anyway! I haven’t written in awhile, note to however has sent a request: I’m so SRRY I’ve haven’t written them yet they’re all in my drafts just been busy!!

Warnings: not proofread, 1 suggestive section, Cussing.

Genre(s): crack, fluff

—————————

Pantalone

Questions life decisions. He’s constantly stressed whenever you step outside (grass is overrated) insists on going with you everywhere. For protection.

If you won’t let him go with you he’ll either force you to take a fatui agent (as a bodyguard) or just suffer in silence while you’re gone.

He’s constantly worried.

“What if she comes back hurt?”

“What if she gets kidnapped?”

Wishes he could just lock you in his basement

He worries even more since he’s a fatui harbinger. People are out to get him, and especially you. Would NEVER let you near his fellow harbingers (Dottore) for fear that they might take advantage of your weakness and snap you in half.

And they’re hot

Starts to panics when he can’t find you when in reality you’ve been 2 ft away from him, hiding. To mess with him.

He loves you and all, but can you do anything else but to put yourself in danger? Please? (He’s so tired)

Dottore

For the love of god, stop moving, just stay with him in his lab, it only slightly reeks of death and chemicals.

An average day will just go by like:

“Dottore! Dottore! Look what I found”

“What the? Y/N put that down! It’s dangerous (it’s a rock)”

So once he dodges your rock, and you disappear he starts to panic.

“What the? Where’d you go?”

He’ll start frantically searching for you, you were right behind him.

EXTREMELY protective of you. Won’t hesitate to add another skeleton to his collection to anyone he deems a threat.

Luckily he’ll (force) a fatui agent to go with you everywhere. Or he’ll spy on you from a bush because he trusts no one, and really loves you.

Why would you want to go outside anyway? Wouldn’t you rather get railed by Dottore?

Tar-tar-Tartaglia

Literally goes “L bozo” and tackles you.

In all seriousness he’ll teach to fight if you want! Probably not a good idea since he’ll forget your fighting skills are the equivalent of a sheet of paper, then break every bone in your body

He trusts you enough. But since he’s constantly away on missions he worries you’ll get hurt and can’t stand to be away from you.

Will purposefully challenge you to arm wrestle just to throw you off the table.

Sees you as a tiny little duck, and protects you at all costs while simultaneously bullying you.

Will go, “hey wanna go Inazuma with me? Oh wait you can’t fight….later bozo” (he’s so mean)

One day you’ll beat his ass up for all that teasing.

Scaramouche

Another one that goes ‘L bozo’ in you form of “Skill issue”

Constantly on your back for getting yourself in dangerous situations when you follow him around.

“Are you an idiot?”

“Don’t do anything stupid…”

You’ve heard it too much, he may be a little emo boy but he just wants to keep you safe.

Wishes he could go everywhere with you, in a panicked state when you’re god (he doesn’t show it though)

Won’t teach you to fight, thinks you’re an unworthy opponent (ouch)

Sometimes he wants to cuddle and protect you and sometimes he wants to throw you off a cliff in frustration.

—————————

Hope you enjoyed! Melly out <3

[spacerockfloater]

Me watching Feyre convince herself that Tamlin is a disgusting monster who only used her to get his power back and then stopped caring for her the moment she became his because he was some selfish lunatic who wanted to keep her as his useless plaything the more time she spends with Rhysand and his Inner Court:

Tamlin. The guy who helped her family even if he only needed Feyre. The guy who had to watch the love of his life die screaming in pain as Amarantha broke every bone in her body. The guy who crawled in front of Amarantha and begged her to spare her while his own blood drowned him. The guy who slept at Feyre’s feet each night out of paranoia that something would happen to her, not him. The guy who let Feyre roam his court and help whomever she wants until she found out that these people had their own healing to do and the help they actually needed, looking up to someone, was not something she wanted to offer. The guy who had to watch her reject him publicly by hesitating at the altar and never even mentioned it because he didn’t want to embarrass or upset her. The guy who had to watch her get abducted every month by his nemesis, a known sadist. The guy who waited and gave her space. The guy who was searching for a way to break the bond all of these months even though she furiously blamed him that he was not doing enough to cancel her bargain with Rhys, a bargain she willingly made and was responsible for. The guy who was willing to let her go even if it meant condemning an entire world. The guy who launched himself at Hybern to save her sisters.

And he’s crazy because he wanted to keep her safe in their fucking palace for one evening?

Reading Feyre’s narrative after she started hanging out with the people of the Night Court made my skin crawl. I kept gripping the book furiously and mentally telling her “Wait, that’s not what fucking happened” every time she spoke about Tamlin. It was horrifying because this is exactly what I always imagined people who abandon you do: leave you and then tell people their own, made up version of events.

Watching her stop speaking about him with love and slowly paint him as her tormentor was like watching a train wreck you couldn’t prevent:

- I love Tamlin and he loves me and we have sacrificed so much for one another.

- I love Tamlin and both of us are dealing with a lot right now, but we’re trying and we’ll make it.

- Tamlin loved me and he made some wrong decisions but I still feel like I’m cheating on him.

- Tamlin’s actions were wrong and I hope we’ll sort things out once we all calm down.

- Tamlin gave me everything but he still made some wrong decisions.

- Tamlin really cared for me but I don’t need what he has to offer me anymore.

- Tamlin was right about my safety after all but I have decided I don’t care and don’t forgive him.

- Tamlin only wanted me because I was useful and then stopped caring for me.

- Tamlin is a selfish prick who used me and then tossed me aside and wanted me to be his stupid ignorant pet and he didn’t give a fuck about me and I hate him and want him to die.

Feyre. Feyre. FEYRE. Wake up. None of this is true. You’re spiralling and you’re blaming him for every little thing he ever did that slightly inconvenienced you while you forgive and justify each and every one of Rhysand’s horrendous crimes against you, all of his countless lies, all of his manipulation.

I think she just never loved Tamlin and that’s why it was easier to hate him.

[ltash]

My Baby Shot Me Down

Warning: Extreme angst.

The night was bitter, biting into your skin as you stood frozen on the SAS base. The cold wind tugged at your clothes, but the chill in your bones came from something else, something darker.

Ghost stood in front of you, a monolith of darkness, his voice cutting through the heavy air like a blade. "Don’t you ever think about this," he warned, his voice a rough, jagged thing, "or I will forget who you are."

(I was 5, and he was 6. We rode on horses made of sticks.)

Memories slipped into the edges of your mind, unbidden and unwanted. You remembered a time before all this, two children running through fields of green, wild with laughter, playing games with sticks as swords. He always won. You always let him win.

But this wasn’t a game anymore. Your gun was heavy in your hands, trembling as you pointed it at Captain Price, the man who had taken everything from you. "He killed my father. He killed General Shepherd."

(He wore black, and I wore white. He would always win the fight.)

Ghost’s words came like cold steel, merciless, and unyielding. "Your father was no one but a traitor," he spat, "who betrayed us, who betrayed his own country."

Tears burned at your eyes, blurring your vision. "He had no right," you sobbed, the words breaking apart as they left your lips, "he had no right to kill him like that. In his office. At his desk."

(Bang bang, he shot me down, bang bang I hit the ground.)

Ghost’s voice became a command. "Put your gun down. Now." His tone was edged with something deadly, a finality that left no room for hesitation. "Or I will shoot without a second thought."

You didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Your hands held the gun steady, aimed at Price. The weight of everything, betrayal, loss, the unbearable grief, it held you there, unmoving, locked in place.

(Bang bang, that awful sound… bang bang, my baby shot me down…)

"Y/N!" Ghost’s voice was a growl now, a beast barely restrained. "This is your last warning. I will forget who you are."

For a moment, you searched his eyes—those dark, stormy eyes hidden behind the mask. You searched for Simon, the boy you once knew. The one who used to be soft, who used to laugh. The boy who once held your heart in his hands.

You saw him. For just a moment, you saw the boy you grew up with, the one who shielded you from the world just as you had shielded him and Tommy from the bullies in school.

(Seasons came and changed the time.)

You remembered everything, the laughter, the quiet moments of peace when he found solace in your arms, the way you used to look at him and see a future, one full of love and warmth.

(When I grew up, I called him mine.)

But the man standing before you now wasn’t that boy anymore. His eyes were hollow, devoid of the warmth they once held. The mask hid more than just his face. It hid the soul you once knew, the one you loved.

(He would always laugh and say, remember when we used to play…)

Once, you played games. You used to pretend to shoot each other, laughing as you fell to the ground, knowing it was all make-believe. But this time, there was no pretending. This time, the guns were real, and the stakes were life and death.

(Bang bang…he shot you down..)

The sound of gunfire exploded through the silence. Two shots, ringing out like a death knell, reverberating through the air.

Your breath caught in your throat as pain bloomed in your chest. The world seemed to slow, every heartbeat an agony. The gun fell from your hand, clattering to the ground, as you staggered backwards, your legs giving out beneath you.

(Bang bang, you hit the ground…)

The earth rose up to meet you, cold and unforgiving. Your body collapsed into the dirt, the warmth of your blood spilling from the wound Ghost had given you. You gasped for breath, each one more laboured than the last, the world around you dimming, the stars above fading into the blackness.

(Bang bang, that awful sound…)

Ghost’s footsteps were slow, deliberate, as he approached. His gun lowered, and he stood over you, his shadow falling across your broken form. He looked down at you, his voice low, distant, as if he was speaking to a memory rather than the person lying at his feet.

"I used to shoot you down," he murmured, his voice almost soft, almost tender. But there was no warmth in it. There was no recognition of the girl he once loved.

You thought of those days, those games you played as children, how he would always offer his hand after you fell, pulling you back to your feet, his smile boyish and full of affection.

But not this time.

This time, his hand stayed by his side.

The world around you was fading, the cold seeping into your skin as the night closed in. The pain in your chest spread like wildfire, but you could barely feel it now, the numbness slowly taking over. Your hand trembled as you lay there, blood soaking into the ground beneath you.

Everything was slipping away.

Through the haze of agony, you raised your hand, the gesture almost instinctual, reaching for him one last time. Your fingers stretched out toward Ghost, or maybe not him, but the memory of Simon. The boy you once knew, the boy who always pulled you up after you fell, his grip firm, his smile soft, as though he was your anchor in a world that seemed to tilt and spin around you.

(He would always laugh and say, remember when we used to play…)

You remembered it clearly, how he always offered his hand after your playful falls, how he would pull you up with ease, laughing like it was all part of some unspoken promise, that no matter what, he’d always be there to catch you.

So, you gave him your hand. Just one time, just one last time.

"Simon!!"

Like a prayer, you called his name.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d take it again. Maybe, in some hidden part of him, that boy still lived, the one who would never leave you on the ground. You reached for him, hope flickering in the depths of your chest, fragile as the breath you fought for.

But his eyes, dark and unreadable beneath the mask, didn’t soften. He stood there, unmoving, the weight of his decision bearing down like a shadow. His hand stayed at his side, no longer the lifeline it had once been.

The silence stretched between you, your hand still hanging in the air, waiting, desperate for the touch that would never come.

You thought for a moment that he might, that maybe the Simon you loved was still there, buried deep beneath the Ghost he had become. But as the seconds dragged on, as the cold began to numb your fingers, you realized…

He wasn’t going to take your hand. Not this time.

The darkness pressed in on you, the weight of the wound pulling you down, the finality of it sinking in. There would be no pulling you back to your feet. No familiar warmth, no reassurance that things would be okay.

Your hand fell limply back to the ground, cold and empty.

And as your vision blurred, as the world around you dimmed, you understood with a crushing clarity: you were truly alone.

This time, no one was there to pull you up.

You lay there, the world slipping away, your body growing colder as the pain dulled. There was no hand to pull you up, no familiar warmth to guide you back to your feet. Only the darkness, creeping in around the edges, and the silence that followed.

(Bang bang…)

And as you succumbed to the wound he gave you, you realized,

You were alone.

[eldritch-spouse]

Greed and pride demons would be aweful customers at retail

But imagine the horrors of Wrath and lust demons

They'll wither be yelling and fighting you or fucking sloppily on the table you have to wipe down

[I love doing funny retail scenarios so much.]

" IT SAYS THERE'S A FUCKING DISCOUNT, YOU DUMB CUNT- CAN'T YOU READ?! "

He's got the manic stare of someone who has very little to lose, and an axe on his back which you're almost certain is stained with the blood of another client, if the scream earlier was any indication. Whatever. You're not security.

" Sir- "

He slams both fists on the counter, making it crack on both spots. You're not paying for that. " DON'T SIR ME, I KNOW WHAT I SAW. IS THIS FALSE ADVERTISING?! ARE YOU SHITHEADS FUCKING WITH ME? I'LL BREAK EVERY BONE IN YOUR WORTHLESS WORM BODY! "

You hesitate. Professionalism demands you tell this moron that there's a date limit on the discount, survivalism says you should just give it to him for free and avoid getting your brains splattered like a ripe melon. You end up doing the latter.

" ... Not at all sir, you're right, please excuse my mistake. It's- It's actually free. " Please don't kill me.

" Fucking bitch. " He spits on the floor before leaving with his 'free' item.

You take a moment to relax and catch your breath before calling the next client over, immediately regretting it when you see the look he's giving you, and the hand very unsubtly crammed down his pants. The demon doesn't break eye contact once, panting as he places his items on the counter -God, you don't want to touch that- and leans closer to smell you.

" Wow, you're really submissive, huh? " He purrs. Your honest desire is to throw the items outside and see if he'll run after them.

Your eyes glaze with the urge to be literally anywhere else. " Would you like a bag, sir? "

" I bet you moan all cute. " He takes a bag anyway, paying at least. " I was kind of hoping he'd bend you over and fuck you on this counter hhn. "

" Please leave... "

His hidden hand hastens. " Ohhn say please again. "

You don't know how much longer you can last in this.

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 9

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, ramp up the angst, guilt trips all around, hospitals, bits of fluff in all the chaos, smut (with a heavy dose of more angst)

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Well, there was no way this wasn't going to be angsty af. Enjoy the ride, loves! 😘

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 9: Marooned

The cool, breezy autumn air whipped you across your face, a sharp, frigid sting in your lungs that burned right through to your heart. Each breath you desperately clutched was a fight for life.

Your mind, moonstruck and lunatic, spun complicated cobwebs. Your feeble body and fragile bones threatened to crumble and crack underneath the devastating weight of the truth. You crouched down on the parking lot asphalt, head heavy in your shaking hands.

“Hey, hey, just breathe…” Beau’s deep voice and warm hand on your back were a short-lived comfort before the first sob broke through you.

He knelt down in front of you, large hands cupping your head when your own grew too tired to hold it. He rested his forehead against yours, green eyes leveling with you. His thumbs wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“Maybe it’s not him,” Beau bargained, his voice a soft whisper. His disavowing mind refused to accept what his breaking heart knew to be true.

However, there was no doubt in yours. “No, I’m sure it’s him.”

“It still might not be true… It could be one of those CGI deep-fakes. You know, they’ve gotten crazy good… She just wants to mess with us,” Beau tried to reason, every bone in his body fighting to accept the truth. Because as soon as he would acknowledge it, he’d lose you. How could he live with that?

Your eyes lifted from the ground, your gaze boring into his. “You really believe that?” Your voice was harsh enough to break through the solid brick barrier he had erected over his heart, your words a wrecking ball. A jittery and hesitant lick of his lips was his abdication. He lowered his head in resignation. “How’s that even possible? You saw him die, right?

Beau’s mouth opened without an answer, his eyes flickered alive with memories. Panic rose with realization and poisoned the pumping blood that coursed through his heart. “I-I saw him get dragged away… I heard the shot.”

He was sure. He was so, so, so sure. And then, it all fell apart. What had he done?

You straightened up, slipping out of his grasp, and clasped your mouth, turning your back to him as your body rattled with shock. “Oh my God… Oh God…”

Beau rose to his feet behind you and swallowed harshly as the realization hit him like a freight train. He wanted to reach out and touch you, needing you now more than ever, but he didn’t know if he still could. His mind raced a mile a minute with questions he couldn’t find an answer to.

How was Randy still alive? Had the cartel kept him all this time? How did Diane find out? And how the hell did she get a hold of him?

“Y/N, I-… I don’t know what to say.” His voice trembled. He could feel you drift further and further away from him till you were just a dot out on the vast ocean. He didn’t want to lose you but didn’t know how to stop it, either. He thought all he needed was for you to just look at him, and it would all be right again. But when you did, it shattered his heart into a million pieces.

“All this time he was alive and God knows where. I-I could’ve looked for him. I could’ve helped him…”

“You didn’t know,” Beau said softly, pushing your blame onto himself. He could’ve known. He should’ve known. He felt helpless, lost, adrift. “Y/N, what d’you want me to do?”

You needed a moment to clear your head enough to think straight. If it wasn’t Randy but any other victim, what would you do next?

“We need to find that bunker. Get him outta there,” you concluded. “You think he’s still alive? You think she’d kill him?”

Recalling the snippet of the video, you remembered the timeline only read an hour instead of the usual forty-eight. It wasn’t about making you suffer through his death because you’d already done that. Diane just wanted you to see.

Beau knew there were only two possible options. Either Diane caught Randy only to show he was still alive and then kill him, or she brought him back into your life to wreak havoc. But the hows and whys didn’t really matter. Both options would cause a rift between you two wider than the Grand Canyon. If Randy was back, dead or alive, Beau’s relationship with you wouldn’t survive it.

He knew it was over. You’d never pick him. He wasn’t the love of your life. He wasn’t your once in a lifetime. He wasn’t true love.

He was your second choice. The one you were stuck with. Your rebound.

“I don’t know,” Beau replied and forced some oxygen into his lungs. He didn’t know for how long he had held his breath. For a minute there, he had forgotten how to breathe at all – and he didn’t even care.

The ringing of your phone broke both of you out of your haze and fatal fantasies. You fished it out of your pocket and stared at the screen with a furrowed brow.

“Who is it?”

“Unknown caller,” you replied before you answered the phone, pinning it between your shoulder and ear. “Hello? Yes, this her…”

Beau watched as your eyes widened, how your brow rose, how your mouth fell open, how your heart stopped. As you hung up, he could see you swallow before you found his eyes. He waited with bated breath for news he already knew.

“That was the hospital here. They said someone brought in my husband.”

The stone silent ten-minute drive to the hospital felt like an eternity. Beau drove, his grip stiff and knuckle-white around the steering wheel. The heat of the old Jeep had barely kicked in by the time you arrived, your hot breaths coming out in vaporizing clouds as you bit your nails bloody and down to their beds on the passenger’s seat. Neither of you spoke a word, too terrified it would cut the last string between you that still tied you to each other.

As the bright sign of the hospital came into view, your heart thudded in your ears, so loudly you could barely hear the world around you anymore. Everything was subdued and distorted as if someone was holding your head underwater. All you wanted was air, but your lungs flooded with water.

Beau killed the engine in the parking lot. Both of you sat there in silence and petrified in time, two fossils buried deep in the earth and uncovered by archeologists with fine brushes millions of years later.

His gaze drifted up to the star-filled sky, green eyes locked on the North Star. He wished he could rewind the tape to that night, all the way back to the start where the two of you were still alive. His eyes then swerved to your hand that lay there untouched on the edge of your seat, his own palm twitching to hold it in his.

“You want me to come in with you?” Beau asked carefully.

It was the first time since you’d left the Sheriff’s Department that you looked at him again. Your eyes were pleading. “Of course I do. Please don’t go. Don’t let me do this alone.”

Then, you saw it – the flicker of relief that flashed through him. You recognized the insecurity and apprehension in his eyes. Your heart dropped. You had been so consumed by the news, you hadn’t noticed how he had spiraled. You clasped his hand tightly in yours. He squeezed it desperately back. He was drowning, and your touch was the lifeline he had been waiting for.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to see him. I don’t know if I’m ready to see you with him,” Beau confessed. He had endangered his best friend, deserted him, and left him to die. And that wasn’t even the worst he’d done. The worst was you.

“Me neither,” you admitted and interlaced your fingers with his. “We’ll take it step by step, okay?”

He nodded.

As the nurse sent you down the hallway to your believed-to-be-dead but actually only-long-lost husband, you didn’t know what to expect as your hand lingered on the door handle.

Beau could not only feel the tension in your body but physically see it. The stiffness in your neck and shoulders, the tremble in your hands, and the twitch in your eyes were a dead giveaway.

As you felt Beau behind you with a hesitant palm resting on your lower back, you wondered if you should tell Randy. You supposed you had to at some point. And suddenly, you felt overwhelmed.

You had been so focused on what awaited you in that room, you hadn’t thought about what your husband expected. Or was it ex? Did he know you had moved on? Were you still allowed to? Would he be happy for you? Would he let you go? Would he hate you for it? He probably would, considering who you ended up with. Or maybe you had it all wrong, and he would be relieved it was someone he loved, too. Wouldn’t you be if the roles were reversed?

His death had severed your ties, but now that he was back, were your vows, too? Did he even know everyone thought he was dead? Had you cheated? Was that what Diane had been trying to tell you? That you had sinned? That you were a liar? That you were awful? That you were a whore?

“Should I-, uhm…”

“No,” Beau answered your dangling question as if he could read your mind. He dropped his hand from your back and ceased all contact, even going as far as taking a step back. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought you were radioactive. That should’ve been answer enough. “Not yet, at least.”

“Okay.” The rejection hurt, but you understood. This was hard for him, too. Maybe even harder. You had to weather the storm alone, ship-wrecked and marooned on a desolate island.

“You wanna go in alone first?”

“No.” You shook your head and pushed down the handle, suddenly feeling more courageous and determined than before.

You barged in. Not gentle. Not slow. The urge to see him, face to face within the same four walls – after all these years, after all the tears – washed over you like heavy rainfall. You didn’t want to weather the storm – you wanted to be it. It felt safer than to seek shelter under driftwood.

Then, your heartbeats halted. The world around you paused. No murmurs in the hallway, no beeping machines or bustling footsteps. It felt like you were standing in the eye of the hurricane, everything else flying fast around you, but the center was calm.

As you stood there, feet calcified in front of his bed, a set of familiar whiskey-colored eyes found you. The slightly furrowed brow above them softened, his lips parted in awe. He still looked the same, only slightly aged by the years and what he’d been through.

“Randy?” Your voice was a quiet tremble but still filled the entire room.

A smile flickered alive on his face. “Hey,” he said, his own voice raspy and dry as if he hadn’t had water in several days. Deserted like he had been. His hazel eyes lit up, full of love and adoration. It was the same look he had always worn when he gazed at you. For a second, it felt like nothing had changed. It saturated your frozen heart with warmth and your gray and bleak vision with technicolor.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” you stammered with a thick swallow.

Randy snorted a bit. “Now, you know how I always felt,” he quipped, blinking the tears in his eyes away. He’d always been a ray of sunshine. He was light and sweet and good down to his bones. A part of you had expected that light to fade, though, considering what he must’ve experienced the last few years. But it hadn’t. He was still shining as bright as ever, his spirit untouched by the darkness that had tried to swallow him. “Are you just gonna stand there like a moron?”

A small laugh escaped you as tears began to sting your eyes when he spoke those same words you once had said to him. You wanted to cry when you heard them. What sliver of doubt remained in your mind that it wasn’t truly him vanished upon his words. Your feet wanted to move forward, but your heart tugged you back.

You glanced back over your shoulder and found Beau, standing with lovelorn patience by the door as he watched the exchange between you two. The muscle in your chest then stung, like someone had dropped it into a pit full of cacti. You felt torn in two, pulled into opposite directions.

Randy followed your gaze and finally noticed his second visitor, his brow shooting up in surprise. For a second, Beau felt nervous as he awaited a reaction. He expected resentment, hatred, blame, and anger. What he got, however, was a rising smile.

“Hey, man.” Randy seemed happy to see him, not an ounce of animosity detectable. “You two realize you’re staring, right?”

“‘S good to see you, Randy,” Beau managed to say and forced a quivering smile to his lips. And it wasn’t a lie. A big part of him was elated to have his best friend, his old partner, his brother back. But he couldn’t ignore the gnashing, lethal wound in the shape of you that Randy’s return caused.

Carefully, you stepped closer and let out a nervous breath as you sat down at the edge of his bed. He reached out and tenderly caressed your cheeks, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. A smile curved his lips as soon as he touched you again. It felt like he was holding a miracle while you looked at him like he was a ghost.

“You look good, sweetheart,” he said. His hand then slid down your arm to hold yours, fingers brushing over the one. His gaze dropped when he couldn’t feel what he was looking for, the tan line of the missing item around your ring finger still visible. Pensively, he licked his lips. “They told me everyone thought I was dead.”

“Yeah, uhm, that’s kinda my fault. I’m sorry, buddy,” Beau said and swallowed harshly. The sight in front of him almost took him out. Even though it was a familiar picture, one he had seen a million times before, seeing it now was a different story. After everything he knew, you in someone else’s arms that weren’t his felt like a bullet piercing through his chest. His heart was bleeding. “I thought you got shot.”

“It’s okay. Don’t blame yourself, man. It was crazy in there. It could’ve happened to anybody. I did get shot. Only the slug went straight through the shoulder,” Randy explained. “Cartel then took me to Mexico. Juárez.”

Your wide eyes wandered to Beau, the two of you sharing a horrified look. Randy had been right underneath your noses this entire time. You could’ve saved him.

“You were in Juárez? We were there, too,” you muttered in shocked realization.

“Oh, I know,” Randy said, surprising you both. Your heart beat faster, accelerating to lightning speed and close to jumping out of your chest. Did he already know about you and his best friend? But he answered your question before you could ask it. “Cartel talked about a task force moving in on them. I overheard them once. Said my old partner and wife were looking for me. When y’all got too close, though, they moved me further south. There’s nothin’ you coulda done.”

“What did they do to you? How are you still alive?” you asked and didn’t want to sound ungrateful for it, but you were completely baffled. You had too many questions racing through your mind.

Randy chuckled a little at your line of questioning. “You’re still the same.” He smiled and tore your heart apart, because you knew you weren’t. Not really. “I think they thought they could keep me for leverage. Trade me at some point? They held me in a basement at first till they moved me south. Kept me at farm of some cartel member. It wasn’t highly guarded, but even when I had opportunity to flee, I didn’t know where I was or where to go. I thought they’d either kill me or give me back at some point, but then months… years passed. I gave up hope they’d ever let me go. And then, one night they threw a bag over my head and I woke up in some weird bunker… in Montana. Apparently. Anyone wanna explain what I’m doing here? How did you guys get here so fast? They only brought me here a few hours ago. Had to convince them a little to find and call you since they thought I was dead.”

“I was already here for a case. There’s a crazy serial killer lady who took you. That’s who locked you into that bunker,” you explained and watched his brow crease.

“Huh.”

“I work Major Crimes now. It’s a long story,” you added quickly. You didn’t even know where to start. How could you recap three years?

“Really?” His smile was back. This time, it was a proud one. “That’s good. You always wanted that.”

“Yeah.” You blushed a little and gave him a small smile in return.

He squeezed your hand, his gaze flickering to your missing ring on your finger once more. “So, uhm… since everyone thought I was dead, I guess we’re not married anymore, huh?”

Your heart exploded like he had just deposited a grenade inside of it. You averted your gaze to your joined hands. “Uh, Randy…”

“No, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he quickly soothed and chuckled to lift your worries, and you weren’t sure if it was a real smile or just one for your sake. “I’m just trying to catch up, you know? Get up to speed. ‘Sides, if we’re not married anymore, we could have a second wedding. Might be fun, right?”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you tried to smile through the pain. “Uh, yeah.” You nodded and hoped he couldn’t see your reluctance.

Randy then stretched his neck and pulled you closer, his lips meeting yours in a slow and chaste kiss that felt like your first. Tears of happiness mixed with sadness as they rolled down your cheeks. When Beau softly cleared his throat, you broke away from Randy, your cracked heart shattering into sharp daggers that sliced through your skin. What were you supposed to do, though? Reject the man you married because it would break the heart of the one you currently loved?

“I-, uh, I should go. Let you two catch up,” Beau said uncomfortably. The crestfallen look on his face destroyed you. “I’ll keep the press away from this for as long as I can. Lord knows they love a good back-from-the-dead story.”

“You can do that?” Randy arched a curious brow.

Beau pulled his jacket back a little and tapped the badge on his belt. “Kinda the sheriff here.”

“Wow, congrats, man. You deserve it,” Randy said with a genuinely happy grin. He seemed like a kid who was catching up with all his friends on the first day of school after summer break.

Beau gave him a tight smile that said he didn’t think he deserved it. But only you could read that one. “Uhm, thanks, bud. I see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Beau, wait–”

But he had rushed out of that room so fast, he couldn’t even hear you as the door fell shut behind him. You offered Randy the same tight-lipped smile and stroked his cheek. Your emotions were a mangled mess. A part of you was hauled back to the past, old feelings that you had buried deep coming back alive, while new ones reminded you that it wasn’t the same anymore.

“Give me a sec, okay? I’ll go talk to your doctor. See when we can get you outta here,” you said and waited for Randy’s nod of confirmation before you darted out of the room.

Your heart thrummed in your ribcage as you raced down the hospital’s corridors all the way to the parking lot where you finally caught up with Beau. He was on a fast-paced escape to his car before he stopped when you called his name.

“Beau, wait!”

As he spun around, he dragged a palm over his face in an attempt to wipe away the tears. But the evidence was still visible, his eyes red and distraught. “You should go back, Y/N. He needs you.”

The heart in your throat caused you to choke. “So do you. I’m so sorry,” you said, sniffling as tears flowed down your cheeks. But as you stepped forward to hold him, he took a step back.

“It’s okay. I get it. Trust me. I do. He’s your husband, and I’m just… Well, I’m nothin’,” he said, his voice laden with heartbreak. “Just don’t come closer, ‘cause if you do, I don’t know if I can hold myself back, alright? ‘Cause all I wanna do right now is kiss you and love you, even it’s the last time. I can’t do that to him. You understand?”

Everything in you wanted to break through the fence he had set up, full-throttle with a lead foot on the gas, but you thought it was best to respect his wishes for now. You didn’t even know where your head was and wanted to avoid hurting him more.

“Here, uhm, you should have this back.” He fished out your wedding ring from his back pocket and dropped it into your palm, the quick brush of his skin tearing you apart even more. The golden band suddenly felt heavier than it ever had. You didn’t even know when he had grabbed it from his desk drawer, but the foresight scared you. He let out a humorless chuckle as the sadness brimmed in his green eyes. “Not the ring I thought I’d give you…”

Your lips parted, your brow lifting in realization. Whatever dusted remnants were left of your heart plummeted. “Beau…”

“Don’t. ‘S okay,” he wrung out with a doleful smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? Call if you need somethin’.”

With a passive nod, he jumped into his Jeep. You clutched the ring in your hand so tightly it almost burned through your skin as you watched him drive off.

Beau uncapped his third beer of the night (plus two tumblers of whiskey and a shot of his old friend Don Julio) as he sat on the bed in his trailer. A pile of your clothes still lay on the floor to his right, your favorite coffee mug stood in the kitchen sink, and your shampoo was stored in the shower. It felt like you hadn’t left, even though you had.

He replayed the clips of the hospital in his mind over and over again. How Randy held your hand. How he touched your cheek. How he kissed you. How he looked at you when he first saw you – like he had finally found the piece of his heart again that he lost years ago, the same love in his brown eyes that had been there since day one. And Beau understood, because he had felt the same way once, too, when you walked into his office – back into his life.

He told himself it was the torture he deserved for all of his sins. And he swallowed it all down – the hurt, the heartbreak, the jealousy, the possessiveness. He had no right to feel those things. Not anymore. You weren’t his. You never were.

How long did he have with you this time around? Five weeks?

Suddenly, he regretted leaving Houston, regretted leaving you. He wasted a whole year that he could’ve spent loving you. He always thought, in the end, he'd have more time. Eternity, even. How fucking foolish was that?

The headlights and sounds of a car in front of his home drew his attention to the window, shadows and lights dancing along the walls of his trailer. He couldn’t see his visitor, but considering it was in the middle of the night, he assumed it was either Jenny or Cassie checking up on him. He had texted them to let them know what was going on. But as he opened the door, the sight left him speechless.

“Y/N…” Your name fell from his lips like you were an angel he had prayed for. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if his eyes were seeing things right, or if you were a booze- and depression-induced hallucination. You wouldn’t be the first ghost that came back to haunt him, after all.

“You ain’t nothing.”

With those words still floating in the night air, you cupped his neck and crashed your lips against his, kissing him fervently with everything you had as tears streamed down your cheeks. He returned the kiss just as passionately, although you could feel a part of him fighting against it. But his large hands grabbed your waist and pulled you flush against him, the kiss lasting till both of you were bluer than the sky. You didn’t let go of him, though, hands holding onto his shirt, too scared he would slip through the cracks of your fingers if you did.

“Y/N, I can’t…”

“I love you,” you interjected his hesitance with firmness and gripped him tighter, your gaze drilling into him like you hoped your words would. “You think I’d just forget? You think my feelings for you just vanish into thin air? It doesn’t work that way. I can’t just snap my fingers and stop loving you. I can't go back to the way things were. I know you think me and Randy are some great love story, but so are you and I. Look, when he died, I grieved that loss and it felt like I was dying, too. I never thought life would be... exciting... and fun... and happy... and so full of love again. And then… I-I fell in love with you, and my life somehow started again. And I know this whole situation is fucked up and confusing and impossible. And I don’t know what to do… I don't know what the right thing is here. But I do know you feel right, and I can’t just pretend you and me and everything good that came with it never existed. I don’t want to. Please, just… I need you, Beau. You said you wouldn't leave again. You're not making things better by walking away...”

With a stretch of your toes, your nose grazed his before you gently claimed his plump, soft lips once more. Your tear-stained cheeks met the roughness of his beard. The kiss started ginger and careful, giving him time to withdraw if he wanted to. But he didn’t. His tongue slipped inside your mouth and stoked the flames of the fire that burned for him deep within your soul. Inhibitions were set ablaze as the kiss turned searing. He hoisted you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his middle as he carried you inside.

The trailer’s peaceful silence was disturbed by panting breaths, a pathway of clothes leading from the entrance to the bed. You peeled off his shirt, and he slid off yours over your head. You unclasped your bra and tore it off, pressing your tits against his bare chest as your lips tried to remain connected to each other through it all. By the time he sat down on the edge of the mattress with you on top, only two naked bodies seeking friction remained.

You wanted to feel him everywhere, wanted him to fill you and make you whole again until you stopped feeling like you were breaking apart at the seams. Hands roamed and explored as tongues mingled and savored tastes. As you straddled his muscular thighs, his arms wound around your middle and kept you firmly pressed against him, his hold on you strong as his fingers dented your flesh. You hoped it was enough to leave bruises behind. You never wanted to forget him, wishing his marks would be permanent ink on your skin.

“I need you,” you murmured against his thoroughly kiss-swollen lips, his cock rubbing against your soaking core as you gently rocked your hips.

“I want you,” you assured him, your mouth trailing a path of featherlight kisses along his jaw and down to his throat, his groan vibrating against your soft lips. One hand steadied itself on his broad shoulder as your other one fisted his hard, throbbing length and positioned it at your entrance, his cockhead gliding through your slick and teasing you till you shuddered with wanton need to feel him inside of you.

“I love you,” you whispered and gasped as you sank down, sheathing his thick cock in your warmth as your velvety walls welcomed him. With a needy and yet tender kiss, you soothed his grunt when he was fully inside you and prodded at your cervix. “Wanna make you feel good, okay?”

He nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck, Y/N, don’t do this to me if you’re gonna leave,” he pleaded, his gravelly voice laced with desperation and pain. His hand softly caressed your face as he rested his forehead against yours. His love for you radiated in his green eyes like kryptonite.

You cupped his bearded cheeks and forced him to look at you, lifting his chin to find your eyes. “I’m not leaving you, okay?”

“But–”

You kissed him before he could bring forth all the reasons why you should, but you didn’t care. Your heart was the North Star, and your heart had led you to him. When you left the hospital, there was nowhere else you wanted to go, no one you wanted to see more. Your heart had only ached for him.

You were finally home, and now that you were back in the arms where you belonged, you kissed him so hard till his mind quieted down to a soft lullaby. You kissed him so hungrily till his cock twitched inside of you because you were the only one he wanted, too. You kissed him so passionately he felt your love for him seep into his own heart.

As you began to roll your hips, he met you thrust by thrust as he pounded up into you. His massive hands and sinful mouth roamed every inch of your body. Palms groped your tits and fingers tickled your spine. Lips kissed your throat and tongue massaged your nipples. Teeth grazed your flesh and beard burned your skin.

Your nails dug into the thick muscles on his shoulders and scraped his scalp as his cock split you open with each pump. His girth tore you apart, each time you eased back down a new pleasurable burn coursing through you as your walls stretched to accommodate all of him.

Your pace rose with the tides of your hips, your thighs flexing as your cunt stroked his cock and came closer to the finish line. Beau buried his head in the crook of your neck, writhing and groaning underneath you. His fingers bit into your flesh, surely leaving bruises behind this time. Your tits rubbed against his chest, and you could feel his muscles tensing and straining underneath your fingertips with each bounce. He was barely holding on.

“Come for me, baby,” you beckoned him, feeling your own orgasm approach. The fuse was sparked and burned a path right to your explosive core. “I love you…”

“Fuck!” Beau cried out and spilled into you, his body trembling in your grasp. Those words were all it took to tip him over the edge.

You came with a thundering moan. His release triggered your own, your pussy pulsing violently around him and milking his cock for all he’d got. His cum mixed with your arousal and gushed out of you, trickling down your thighs and coating even his balls. Your thighs shook with exhaustion as you let yourself fall down on him, his arms catching you and holding you close.

Still panting, his mouth found yours in the dark. His thumbs stroked your flushed cheeks, the rest of his fingers dangling in your hair, the grip soft turned bruising as he kept you lip-tied to him, the kiss tender turned rough.

His nose brushed yours as he looked deeply at you. You could see the despair drowning in his pine green eyes, his emotions overtaking him.

“Pick me. Don’t go,” he begged in a harsh whisper, your flushed face in his warm palms.

You placed a gentle kiss on his lips and nodded. “I’m not going anywhere, corazón.”

Chapter 10: It Matters

Phew, writing that hospital scene nearly killed me 😮‍💨 Next up, we have even more drama as the awkward throuple reaches a boiling point...

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[writingforstraykids]

Trouble Sleeping - Soft BinChan Headcanon

Pairing: BinChan

Word Count: 811

Summary: Chan can't find any rest and Changbin is his last hope. Binnie would do everything to grant his hyung some rest.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, comfort

As requested by @chrizzztopherbang I hope you like it, my love. Find the smut version here.

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Chan has always had trouble sleeping. Nights are long, his mind a relentless whirl of responsibilities, melodies, and thoughts he can never quite shut off. He’s tried everything—warm baths, calming teas, even those sleep stories people swear by. But nothing seems to quiet the noise in his head. He lies awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on him.

Tonight is no different. The silence of the dorm is deafening, and the emptiness of his bed feels like a reminder of everything he carries alone. His chest tightens with the familiar ache of exhaustion, the kind that doesn't just settle in your bones but seeps into your soul. He’s so tired, but sleep continues to elude him.

It’s in this state, somewhere between desperation and defeat, that Chan finds himself standing outside Changbin’s door. He hesitates, feeling a pang of guilt. He’s the leader, the one who should be strong, dependable. But right now, all he wants is to feel like he’s not alone in this. He knocks softly, almost hoping Changbin won’t hear. But of course, Changbin does.

When Changbin opens the door, sleep still clinging to his eyes, he doesn't say a word. He takes one look at Chan and understands. Without a second thought, he reaches out, gently pulling Chan into his room, into his arms. The door clicks shut behind them, sealing off the outside world, and Chan lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

The room is dimly lit, shadows softening the edges of everything. But in Changbin’s arms, everything feels sharp, real. His warmth is immediate, and Chan sinks into it, pressing his face against Changbin’s neck. He breathes in the familiar scent of him—something comforting and safe—and it soothes the frayed edges of his mind.

Changbin's hands slide up Chan’s back, his touch firm yet tender, grounding him. “You’re okay,” Changbin whispers, his voice low and intimate, meant only for Chan. “I’ve got you.”

The words unravel something deep within Chan. He wraps his arms tighter around Changbin, pulling him impossibly closer, as if by holding on like this, he can finally silence the chaos inside him. Changbin doesn’t resist. Instead, he guides them both to the bed, moving slowly, carefully, as if understanding that Chan is fragile in this moment.

They lie down, bodies pressed together in the quiet of the room. Chan feels every point of contact—the steady rise and fall of Changbin’s chest, the warmth of his skin, the way their legs tangle together naturally. Changbin’s hand comes up to cradle the back of Chan’s head, fingers threading through his hair in slow, soothing strokes.

“You don’t have to carry it all alone,” Changbin murmurs, his breath warm against Chan’s temple. “Not here. Not with me.”

The words hit Chan deeply, breaking through the barriers he’s built around himself. His breath catches, and for the first time in a long while, he feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He’s always been strong, always been the one to hold everyone else together. But here, in Changbin’s arms, he feels like it’s okay to let go. Just for a moment.

The tears come slowly, silently, and Changbin feels them before he sees them. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he holds Chan tighter, pressing soft kisses to his forehead, his cheek, anywhere he can reach. His touch is gentle, reverent, each kiss a quiet promise that Chan isn’t alone, that he’s loved.

“It’s okay,” Changbin whispers again, his voice soft and sure. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Chan nods against Changbin’s chest, his tears soaking into the fabric of Changbin’s shirt, but he doesn’t care. He’s never felt more vulnerable, but in this moment, it feels right. It feels safe. He clings to Changbin, letting himself be held, letting himself be comforted.

They lie like that for a long time, the world outside forgotten. The steady rhythm of Changbin’s heartbeat beneath his ear slowly lulls Chan into a state of calm he hasn’t felt in what seems like forever. His breathing evens out, and for the first time in weeks, his mind isn’t racing with a million thoughts. It’s just him and Changbin, tangled up together in the quiet intimacy of the night.

As sleep finally begins to claim him, Chan realizes that this is what he’s been needing all along. Not just rest, but the feeling of being cared for, of being loved without conditions or expectations. In Changbin’s arms, he doesn’t have to be the leader, the strong one. He can just be Chan. And that’s enough.

With one last contented sigh, Chan drifts off to sleep, feeling safe, cherished, and more at peace than he’s been in a long time. And as he sleeps, Changbin holds him close, never letting go, watching over him with a quiet, unwavering devotion.

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[knoepfl]

Heyyy~ Could u maybe write a story with Madara Uchiha. I was thinking like he and the reader are fighting in war against each BUT they had an affair for a longer time, and then things get interesting while they're in the middle of fighting. It could be just intense or smut idc about that just write how it's more comfortable for you. PLEASEE 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Ps Love your writing style.

Of course! I haven't watched Naruto in such a long time so I really hope this satisfies you^^ I'm very grateful for your request if you have any more let me know!

Title: "Between War and Desire"

Word Count: 2,753 Trigger Warnings: Mentions of war, emotional conflict, violence, themes of betrayal, and intimacy.

Masterlist

The battlefield stretched before you in ruins, jagged earth and lifeless bodies scattered like broken promises. Dust swirled in the wind, mixing with the scent of blood and decay. The cries of the wounded faded into the distance, drowned by the sound of your heartbeat. But all you saw was him — Madara Uchiha, standing a few paces away, his Sharingan blazing with cold fury.

To the others, he was the bringer of destruction, the enemy who sought to tear the world apart. But to you, he was more than just a warlord cloaked in arrogance and shadow. He was the man whose lips had caressed your skin, whose hands had known the shape of your body better than any blade knew its wielder.

He was the one who whispered your name like it meant everything — and nothing at all.

"Don’t make me do this," Madara said, his voice deep and dangerous, yet laced with an edge of something unfamiliar. You knew that tone well. It was the sound of a man who wanted something he couldn’t have.

You tightened your grip on your weapon, fighting the instinct to believe his words, the part of you that still longed to trust him. "We all have choices. Even you."

His jaw tensed, and for a moment, the fire in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something far more complicated. He took a step closer, as if closing the distance might erase the line between what you were now and what you used to be.

The memory hit you without warning.

You were standing under a starless sky, your back pressed against a tree as Madara’s hand traced the curve of your shoulder. His touch had been hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if it was allowed — as though one touch might break whatever fragile thing lay between you. But once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. His lips followed the path his hand had taken, pressing against your skin like a vow only the night could witness.

"You’re a distraction," he had whispered, his breath warm against your neck, even as his hand slid lower, pulling you closer. "And I can’t afford distractions."

You had smiled against his mouth, knowing he wouldn’t let you go. "Then stop coming back."

But he hadn’t stopped. Night after night, he found his way to you. And you let him, even though every kiss, every whispered confession, felt like the kind of mistake that would eventually demand a price.

Now, on the battlefield, that price was being paid.

Madara’s fan clashed against your blade with a force that rattled your bones, the vibrations traveling up your arm and into your chest, where they settled like a dull ache. His strikes were deliberate, precise — a perfect mirror of the man you had come to know in the dark. But you could see it, buried beneath the anger in his eyes: he didn’t want to do this any more than you did.

"Why are you hesitating?" Madara demanded, his voice sharp with frustration.

You sidestepped his attack, chakra thrumming in your veins, the familiar rhythm of battle doing little to silence the storm inside your heart. "Why are you?" you shot back, knowing the answer already.

This wasn’t just a fight. It was everything unspoken between you — every stolen moment, every breathless confession whispered in the dead of night.

"You think too much," Madara muttered, his fan sweeping toward you again.

You blocked the strike and threw your weight behind your next attack, forcing him back a step. "And you pretend too well."

The blow landed heavier than any weapon ever could. You saw the flicker in his gaze, the brief, unguarded flash of guilt and regret before the mask slipped back into place.

The night before the war had started, Madara had held you close, his breath shaky and uncertain. He pressed his forehead against yours, the rare softness in his eyes making your heart ache.

"Stay with me," he murmured, his voice raw with something you didn’t want to name. "When it all falls apart… stay."

You kissed him instead of answering, pouring every unspoken emotion into that single moment. Because saying yes felt like a betrayal of everything you believed in, and saying no would have broken you both beyond repair.

"I warned you," Madara said now, his voice dragging you back to the present. "This world… it was never going to be kind to us."

"And yet, here we are," you whispered bitterly, your blade flashing in the dim light. "Still fighting for a chance we never really had."

Madara moved faster this time, his strikes coming with a ferocity that left no room for hesitation. But you knew his movements too well, the way his body shifted when he was frustrated, the flicker in his gaze when he was holding something back.

It wasn’t just rage driving him. It was everything he couldn’t say aloud. Don’t do this. Don’t make me hurt you.

The thought lingered in your mind like a poison. What if you stopped fighting? What if you dropped your weapon and reached for him? What if you gave in to the dangerous, aching hope that whispered, He could change. For you.

But could you ever trust him? Would Madara really let go of his ambitions, the power he craved, just to hold on to you? Or would he destroy you the moment you became a liability?

His fan slammed against your blade again, the force sending you skidding backward. "Come with me," he said, and for the first time, his voice wavered.

It wasn’t a command. It was a plea.

And for one terrifying moment, you imagined it — imagined dropping everything, walking away from the blood and the bodies, and letting him pull you into the shadows where the war couldn’t reach you. You could see it so clearly: his hand in yours, the weight of the world falling away as he whispered promises only the night would hear.

But some dreams were too dangerous to chase.

"You should have known better," you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of everything left unsaid.

The last time you had kissed him, it had tasted like goodbye. His hands had roamed over you with a desperate urgency, memorizing every inch of your skin as if it might be the last time he’d ever touch you.

"Don’t fight me," he had begged, his lips trailing along your jaw. "Just stay with me."

You had wanted to promise him everything. But instead, you whispered, "I’ll see you on the battlefield."

His grip on you had tightened, like he could keep you from slipping away. But even Madara Uchiha couldn’t stop what was coming.

Now, as you stared at each other across the battlefield, you realized that nothing had really changed. You were still caught between love and war, between a man you once knew and a monster you could no longer trust.

Madara’s gaze lingered on you, heavy with unspoken promises and unanswered questions. But in the end, he turned away.

Just like he always did.

And you let him go. Because there were some battles you couldn’t win.

But as the wind carried the sounds of war back to you, the thought remained, buried deep in your mind like a splinter you couldn’t pull free: What if you had gone with him? What if he really would have changed, just for you?

Some questions, you realized, were meant to linger — unanswered, like the ghost of a lover’s touch long after the night has ended.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! This story was a deep dive into the space between love, loyalty, and betrayal — a place where choices hurt no matter which way they fall. I hope you enjoyed the emotional tension and lingering questions. Does Madara truly care, or is it just another layer of his ambition? Let me know your thoughts! Your support and feedback mean everything to me.

[dreamingofep]

Forbidden Love pt. 4💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. Fem! reader]

TW: Cussing, SMUTT!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Hello everyone! Hello everyone!! Hope you are ready for some steaminess from these two! There’s so much more to uncover but I thought I’d let them enjoy themselves before real life comes crashing down 😝 Enjoy this next bit, we’re starting off with some smut!😏

*

Your heart pounded against your rib cage, nerves rattling your bones. You could sense Elvis was nervous too as he walked slowly and squeezed your hand tightly. You both finally reach the back bedroom and he walks in first, closing the door softly behind you. He looks at you so lovingly and empathetically. Your heart soars the way he’s looking at you. It did feel like it was eleven years ago. This was exactly how you wanted it to go. You wanted those heated stares to only build and have him take you into his bedroom, taking care of every carnal desire.

He turns on a lamp on the side of the bed, giving the room a soft light. His bedroom was spacious and decorated pretty simply. He wasn’t at this house very often so it made sense he only had the basics in here. But so much of it reminded you of Graceland. He still had stacks of books on the side of his bed and various pictures on the dresser. It smelled like him even. That warm, clean musk scent has you feeling intoxicated just being here.

He takes a few steps closer to you, snapping you out of your meandering thoughts, and wraps you in his arms. He felt so warm and loving like there was nowhere else he would rather be. He pressed his body to yours and you can feel his hard length press into your tummy. You take in a sharp breath when you feel him and grab onto his waist, wanting to be as close as possible to him. He felt too good and your body ached for him already.

You look up at him with pleading eyes, needing his lips on yours again. He happily obliges and kisses you with the most intense energy. You feel on fire as your hands scratch along his back and more wetness pools in your panties. You needed to feel more of him. You discovered this new need to feel his skin on yours. You briefly break the kiss to unbutton his shirt.

Quickly ripping off his shirt, you gently touch his tan chest and feel the soft hairs on it. He sighs into your touch and tilts your head up to look at him. His hands softly brush against your arms and he starts to carefully turn you around.

You face a large mirror and stare at your reflection then look back at Elvis. He has one of his arms wrapped around the front of your waist, keeping you pressed against him. His other hand slowly pulls the zipper on the back of your dress. You shiver as the cool air hits your back. The dress slowly falls off your frame and leaves you in nothing but your panties. You look at Elvis in the mirror and watch how his eyes drink you in, how he bites his bottom lip and glides his hands up your body. You let out a breathy sigh as you feel him touch you more. His large hands squeeze your breasts and you let out a soft moan. His cock pressed into your backside as he does this and you like it all too much. He teases your hardened nipples, sending zings of pleasure through you.

He turns you around again to face him and his eyes have this drunken look, a similar one he gave you that night as he was about to kiss you at the piano bench.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs.

You feel your cheeks flush again, not feeling like you deserve such praise coming from him.

He moves back toward the bed and you follow without hesitation. It felt like you two were magnets, you couldn’t pull away from him for too long because you were longing to be close again. He pulls you into his arms again and ravages your neck with kisses. It felt too good to be true. You were dreaming of this moment.

He carefully picks you up and sets you down in the middle of the bed. He admires you lying there and crawls on top of you. He starts to kiss up and down your body, setting you ablaze. He starts with your legs, inching up closer and closer to your dripping core. You can feel his breath come dangerously close as he takes his time teasing the soft skin on your inner thighs. You couldn’t get enough of that tongue of his. You wanted him to eat you again if he obliged.

His soft lips were marking every square inch of you with his kisses. You had never experienced such affection. He was so good at taking his time and making you feel cared for. He hooks his fingers on the side of your panties and pulls them off of you.

Your heart pounds in your ears as you lay there completely naked. You look up at him and he stares at you in awe once again. You feel your cheeks redden more, not being able to handle him looking at you like this. He can tell you’re feeling insecure and washes those worries away with more kisses. The distraction works because that’s all you want from him; more and more kisses from those beautiful lips.

It felt like time floated by slowly with him, you could have sworn you had been kissing in bed like this for hours. You could barely catch your breath and your body felt like it was about to fall apart. Your hands continue to roam his body, loving how smooth and toned his back felt. You couldn’t wait any longer, you wanted to touch him somewhere… somewhere only intoxicated you would dare touch. You were in such dire need of him, you had to be this forward.

Your hand slides down to the front of his body and past his belt. You freeze when you go to rub his cock through his pants. The heat that came off of him was so intense and the size of him…

He groans when he feels you rub him through his pants. You tear your lips from him and look at him helplessly. He has the same look on his face as your hand kept moving on him. His hips buck into your palm when you rub the tip of him. The sounds he was making from this were driving you insane, you didn’t want to stop making him feel this good.

He gives you one more passionate kiss before getting off the bed. You want to run and hide from him looking at your naked body like this but you have this unwavering trust in him. You sit up a bit, wanting to get a better view of him. His fingers unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down.

He lets his pants hit the floor and your cheeks somehow turn a darker shade of red. Your whole body felt on fire as you looked at him. Dear God, how could one man look this good? Everything about him was perfection and you couldn’t help but stare. He was so tall and slender, nothing about this man was off-putting.

Your eyes wander down to see his length and you bite your lip to hide the moan you wanted to let out. Fuck, you wanted him. You had never wanted a man this desperately in your entire life. But everything about him was drawing you in and making you beg for him. If you weren’t so timid, you would drop to your knees in front of him and worship him in a way you had only fantasized about.

He has a smug look on his face, watching how you’re barely able to breathe just looking at his cock.

“What is it, honey? Your cheeks are redder than cherries,” he teases.

You shake your head, “Oh it’s n-nothing,” you try to say convincingly.

He crawls back on the bed, spreading your legs back open for him to get in between.

“Are you sure about that? You’re not thinkin’ dirty thoughts are ya?” He prods.

“Oh no I would never,” you say as you wrap your hand around his cock. He takes a sharp breath in as he feels you pump it slowly in your hand.

“Mhmm…not wondering what my cock would feel like inside of you hmm?” He groans as he pushes the tip of his cock through your folds.

Your eyes roll back when you feel him, “God,” you whimper.

He lets out a pleased hum and squeezes your breasts in his hands before licking your nipples. A bolt of pleasure pulses through you the more he touches you. His mouth sucks on your breasts, making your back arch off of the bed as he leaves little red marks on them.

He works his way up to your face again, peppering kisses on your cheeks and lips. He moves his hips subtly, coating his length in your wetness. You look into his eyes and see how badly he wants you. Your nerves make you feel on edge, you can barely breathe. God only knows how long it has been since a man made love to you. On top of that, this was Elvis you were going to do it with. You were so incredibly nervous about it all now that you’re seconds away from having him. You wanted it to be good for him, you didn’t want him to regret anything.

“Elvis,” you whimper.

He continues to kiss you, barely stopping to answer you, “What baby?” He murmurs, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock. You groan loudly, relishing how good he feels.

“We- we can’t… We can’t do this, we’re gonna get caught,” you say trying to reason with yourself but instantly regret the words that came out of your mouth. You needed him more than anything. Fuck it all, you wanted Elvis more than you could have thought possible.

He stops kissing you and looks into your eyes, serious and concerned.

“We don’t have to honey, it’s okay,” he says gently, caressing your flushed face.

You pull his hair and try to get him closer, “No, please. I want you, I want you so bad,” you moan. He gives you a slight smile and sighs contently before kissing you again.

He can feel your body tremble underneath him, nervous and enticing all at the same time. You grab onto his hips and encourage him to move. He guides his cock to your entrance and pushes his length slowly inside of you. You squeezed around him at first, not prepared for what he felt like. But oh God he felt like heaven. You had never experienced such a feeling. The way your walls hugged him tightly and you became more relaxed and wet with each movement.

He held onto your hips tight, groaning as he moved slowly. You look into each other’s eyes, both having a similar look of pleasure. You had never experienced such feelings. This was all so overwhelming to you and you couldn’t get enough of him. You look where you both are connected and see your slick coating his cock with every thrust. He was taking his time and letting you adjust to his size. Your breathing becomes more ragged and you want him to move more. You wanted to know what more of him would feel like inside of you.

You buck your hips up and take more of him. You both gasp out, not prepared for such a feeling. There was a searing pleasure that built inside of you as he stuffed you even more. It was all too much but you never wanted him to stop.

“God baby,” he groans softly. He grabs ahold of your leg, pushing up toward your chest and swiveling his hips into you more.

You grasp onto his arms, needing to hold onto him to ground you to this moment. He moved his hips so easily. It reminded you of how he used to move on stage in the 50s and drive the girls absolutely wild. How they would try to rip off his clothes to have a piece of him and scream his name so loud. Now you were that girl that was ripping off his clothes and screaming his name.

“You feel so good,” you moan as he starts to move faster.

He loves hearing that from you as a smirk forms on his face because of it.

“Good baby, so damn wet for me.” He grunts with a snap of his hips. Your eyes roll back as you feel him fill you more, how there was this spot inside of you that had you begging for release.

You plead for him to keep going, you were all too close and about to come apart. He takes one of your hands that is holding onto the bed sheets and guides it down to your aching bud. You look up at him a little shocked, this was something you never thought of before. He helps you push your fingers on your clit and rub it in focused circles.

“Touch yourself, baby. Feels even better now hmm?” He asks.

You moan in agreement as you close your eyes and nod your head. It felt better than you could have imagined. You had never experienced pleasure like this and loved every second of it. His hips moved faster causing you to look back up at him.

His hair stuck to his forehead and a pearl of sweat ran down his temples. His jaw fell slack as he fucked you harder and watched you touch yourself. Jesus he looked good like this, so focused and also on the cusp of falling apart himself. Your other hand still holds onto his arm, feeling your orgasm about to come crashing down on you.

“Honey, I-,” you can barely squeak out.

“I know honey, I know. Come for me, I’m close too,” he tells you. He moves his hips the only way he can and pounds into you harder, leaving you breathless. You barely recognize yourself as you’re begging for him to make you come. Before you know it, you feel your body tense and your walls squeeze around him. You gasp for breath as you feel your pleasure skyrocketing. Your entire body tingles as you moan for him to keep going. He groans deeply as he feels you squeeze his cock over and over.

“Goddamn baby, fuck,” he growls through his teeth, fucking you through your orgasm.

You can’t help but cry out his name like your saving grace. He likes the sound of it too as his lips purse into a smile while he watches his cock fill you to the brink. You had never felt this good, never been taken care of this way. You were used to disappointment with sex but this, this was not disappointment. This was something so much better. He knew what he was doing and was enjoying it as much as you were.

His hips began to stutter and his breathing became more labored as his eyebrows furrowed. You stare at him wide-eyed, loving how he looks pussy-drunk on you and desperate for release. You grab onto his hips and thrust your hips up to meet his. You grind yourself at the base of his cock and he makes the most delicious groan. It makes your toes curl and your pussy squeeze around him again.

“Fucking hell baby,” he says exasperated, his face washed over with pleasure.

He grunts as he pulls out of you, leaving you aching for him. He wraps his hand around his cock and starts to pump it vigorously. You helplessly watch him groan with his cock in his hand and love how he lets his head fall back as pleasure consumes him. He comes hard and fast, his white seed coating your tummy.

You watch in shock, you had never had a man do that to you and frankly, it was undeniably attractive. His hand slows and he heaves for breath as the last few drops of his release come out of him. He was spent and squeezing your thigh tightly trying to bring himself down.

He lays himself beside you, bringing you closer to lay your head on his chest. He gives the top of your head kisses and holds onto you tightly as if you were going to fly away. You both lay there in silence for a while, the only sound is from your labored breaths. His fingertips trace the curve of your hip and up to your breasts. Every touch from him had you reeling for another from him. He made you feel at peace and yet you still had this unexplained energy that had you acting like a mumbling schoolgirl in front of him.

“Was that alright for you darlin’?” he asks gently after a long silence.

You nod your head, “yes. More than alright,” you squeak out.

“Good honey,” he says sweetly. “Sorry for the mess,” he quips smugly as his fingers slowly trail down past your breasts and makes you look down at your tummy.

You scoff slightly, he wasn’t sorry at all but you didn’t care.

“Mhmm,” you say softly.

After some time, he gets up to grab you a towel and cleans you up. You look at him in amazed still. Was this real? Did that really just happen? The one thing you wanted was Elvis’ attention and you got so much more than that this evening. What started out with raging anger toward him and how he was treating you, soon turned into blinding, burning lust for one another.

It was just the heat of the moment, your body betrayed any logical thoughts and you both got so caught up in it all. You can’t help but wonder if that night eleven years ago turned out differently, would you find yourself in this position? If he didn’t tell you no would things be very different now? All these hypothetical scenarios swarmed your head and made you want to go back in time to fix it all. Maybe you wouldn’t be married to John… maybe it would only be you and Elvis…

No. You can’t afford to think like that!

Elvis looks down at your worried face and tilts your head up to look at him.

“What’s goin’ on honey?” He asks.

“Nothing. Just overthinking things,” you quip.

You lift your head up off the pillow and see what time it is. It was almost ten and you panicked a little. It was getting late and you knew you had to go home before John got suspicious.

“Shit. Elvis, I gotta go. I’m sorry to rush out but I can’t stay,” you say in a hurry. You get off the bed and gather your discarded clothes and shoes. You start to slip your panties on when you feel Elvis walk up behind you. You shiver slightly as you turn to face him.

“Please,” he whimpers, “don’t run out honey. Can’t ya stay a lil longer?” He coos as he wraps his arms around your waist. You feel like putty in his hands and push yourself more into his body.

Damn it.

You sigh, “Elvis please, you know I can’t stay. This just can’t happen again.” You say but it comes out like a weak tease.

He caresses your face in his hand, memorizing every detail on your face.

“Okay, baby. Whatever you want. But if you ever… need me again, you know where I’ll be,” he says coyly.

Yes, I need you.

“Okay,” you say weakly.

You pull away from him and it feels torturous. You never wanted to leave his arms now that you know what it’s like to be in them. You wanted those arms to pull you in close as you rode him and have him make those delightful moans… Fuck you’re weak. You pull up your dress and he helps you zip it up, gently touching the curve of your back as he does so. It leaves you aching and you can’t help but lean into his touch.

Damn him, he was good. He was doing everything in his power to get you to stay.

Once your dress was on and you slipped into your heels, you pushed at his chest and pushed him backward until the back of his knees hit the bed. He looks at you a bit shocked, not expecting you to be so precocious.

“Stop being such a tease,” you scowl. He doesn’t take your tone as a threat, he sees it more like a challenge.

“Or what baby? You going to pin me to this bed and have your way with me?” He says acting oblivious. His hands brush up your thighs and squeeze at your hips, bringing you in between his legs. You can’t denounce how much you like the feeling of his hands on you and he knows it. His hands slide to your backside and grab a handful of your ass causing you to let out an airy moan. Your cheeks blush by this all and the very scandalous idea of pinning him to the bed and having him writhe under you.

Nope, not happening.

“Keep dreaming,” you tell him rolling your eyes. You quickly twist out of his grasp and head for the door. Your heels loudly click in the hallway and that makes the walk to the front door so much more menacing. You weren’t supposed to be here this late and were going to pray that the guys didn’t find it weird.

“Wait honey, you forgot somethin’,” Elvis bellows as he comes from the back bedroom. He only had his pants on and looked damn good. His hair was an absolute mess but it somehow made him more attractive. He quickly reaches you and pulls you close, pressing you up against him and kissing you with fervor.

Those lips were your new favorite thing. They were sweet and pillowy, making you want them to never stop touching your skin. Your hands instinctively tangle in his hair and you reach on your tippy toes to kiss him more. You felt on fire again as your tongue deepened the kiss. You were making this even harder for yourself. You had to stay away from Elvis or he was going to be doing this and have you begging for him in the bedroom again.

His hands roam your body once more and you knew you were in dangerous territory if you had his hands on you for a second longer. You quickly step back, both of you breathless.

“Elvis, I have to go,” you say weakly.

He nods his head at you, taking one last look at you standing there weak with need.

“Okay, darlin’. I’ll see you later,” he says like it’s a resolute fact.

You turn away from him and quickly walk outside, jumping in your car and going over the speed limit the whole way home.

*

You had to pray that John wasn’t in the mood to talk still. You didn’t know what to say to him honestly.

How was dinner?

Oh, I don’t know, I didn’t eat a thing but Elvis was starved.

You curse at yourself, hating that you found that slightly amusing. And the worse part, you didn’t feel bad for fucking Elvis. There was no ounce of regret. You loved it way too much.

You put the car in park and rush inside. The lamp was on in the living room but it was deathly quiet. You lock the door and decide to go to the bathroom and avoid John for as long as possible.

“Where you been,” you hear John’s voice say as you pass the bedroom.

Your heart drops, nerves shaking you from the inside out. You take a deep breath before turning back around and addressing John.

“I went to Elvis’ like I said,” you snap at him.

“And I’m sure he was in a shitty mood,” he grumbles.

“No he was actually quite pleasant to talk to,” you scowl.

The little talking we did was… nice I guess.

“That’s surprising,” he says annoyed.

“Whatever, I’m taking a shower,” you say walking away ticked off.

You lock the bathroom door and are thankful for the privacy. You knew you probably had Elvis’ cologne all over you and didn’t want to get questioned about that later. A warm shower would help clear your thoughts and make you feel better.

You reach behind you and pull down the zipper of your dress. You shrug the straps off your shoulders and let it pool at your feet. You pull your panties down too and see the evidence of how Elvis was making you feel during that ‘dinner.’

You’re about to open the shower door when you catch a glimpse of your reflection. Your breasts have light purple welts on the sides of them, probably only going to get darker tomorrow.

“Goddamn it Elvis,” you mutter under your breath. It wasn't like you walked around naked or anything. But the off chance that John saw you looking like this, it would cause a world of trouble.

Your fingertips trace each mark and can’t help but relive those moments you had together. How good his lips felt on you, his tongue taking care of every little desire that was in you. How those hands consumed your body and made you feel on fire. And how good you felt when you both were intertwined…

Shit. Stop daydreaming about it, you scold yourself.

Live with the memories of it, that’s all you can do. But with the ache that now resides in your core just thinking about Elvis, something tells you it’s going to be a really hard time to just move on.

•

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•

Tagging: @loving-elvis @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis

@ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers

@idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos@thisis-theway@gatheraheart

@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen

[sixxteenbullets]

HIDDEN AWAY-

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

Pairing: Henry Bowers x fem!innocent!reader

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

______

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kittencomicslol]

I was awake again last night unable to sleep so I wrote more, except this time I wrote self indulgent Gyutaro fluff

No tws, this is literally just fluff. It was intended to be the modern AU but after re-reading it I realized it could really be interpreted as the og universe or the gakuen

———

Gyutaro had no problem being cruel or degrading to anyone who upset him, or even anyone at all for that matter. But you… you were different. He was fond of you, for some reason he himself wasn’t exactly able to wrap his head around. Maybe it was the way your voice sounded so sweet when you spoke to him?.. how you seemed so genuine and enthusiastic about your interests without a fear to hide yourself?.. the strange amounts of sympathy and empathy you held towards anyone despite he himself being unable to understand how you could feel such things?… or maybe it wasn’t one little thing. Maybe, just maybe it was all of you.

You laid in bed with him, snuggled up so close you were nearly on top of his slim frame. He didn’t mind of course, why would he? He would never understand why or how he deserved someone as kind as you to be so close, but he wasn’t going to lose it.

The comforting feeling of his boney calloused fingers running through your hair was something that made you feel almost numb. He had every capability to harm someone, break bones, to cause damage. Yet with you he was so careful and delicate down to every single strand of hair you had, his fingers delicately grazing your scalp as he petted you.

“Sweet girl..”

He cooed, his croaky voice nothing more than a hushed whisper you could hear as you laid with him. The way you ever so subtly leaned your head into his palm to signal for him to keep going made his heart flutter, his stomach doing flips. And how could he deny giving you what you wanted after a long day? You were his lover after all, and you deserved nothing but the best.

“You tired..?”

He asked softly; though he already knew the answer to that question. You had a stressful long day of work and when you had time to lay down with him you refused to get up. Your Nodding in response to his question was all he needed for confirmation that you were most likely going to fall asleep like this. It had become a habit for you to fall asleep on top of or right next to him, especially when you were exhausted. If it were anyone else he would have been annoyed; but with you? God, he couldn’t ask for anything better.

“It’s funny.. even when you’re all tired you’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen..”

He teased, leaning down to place a little kiss on top of your head, eliciting a giggle from your lips. You drape your arms around him as a way to feel closer than you already were, your legs tangled with his own as you basked in his presence.

Gyutaro attempted to move his hand from your head down to rub your back, but it seemed like you had different plans. Lazily, your arm raised and he felt you gently grab his wrist and direct his hand back onto your head.

A light chortle escaped Gyutaros lips at your little action of nonverbal communication to signify what you wanted.

“Is that where that goes, pretty thing?..”

He teased slightly, not hesitating to give into your demands as he ran his fingers through your hair once more. A little hum escaped your lips as you nodded in response, letting him know that yes; his hand did go there.

The pleasant wave of euphoria that washed over you whenever he used one of those cute little nicknames was enough to make you sigh with content. Worm, Cretan, sad sack, imbecile, were all words you had heard come out of his lips, yet never directed at you. It seemed all of his loving delicate vocabulary was strictly saved for you and little Ume.

“You’re so needy, you know that?..”

You only giggled in response.

“You’re the one who always spoils me..”

You muttered, teasing him back as you held your body close to his own. Gyutaro snorted slightly, ruffling your hair a bit.

“How can I not when you’re always so damn cute? Not my fault I wanna keep my woman happy.. I can't help it.”

Gyutaro moved his free arm to snake it around you, pulling you close against his chest while his other hand still played with your hair. You couldn’t help but giggle at his teasing that you had grown all too used to. Yet it never seemed to get old.

“Oh it must be so hard for you, being the best boyfriend ever, must be such a chore I’m sure..”

You responded with a chuckle, tilting your head up just slightly in order to be able to kiss his neck a few times. He rolled his eyes, holding back a little snicker.

“Might as well be a chore considering how much princess treatment I give you.”

Your lover moved his hand slightly to move some of your messy hair from your face, his gaze meeting your own as he looked down. A smirk tugged at your lips due to his teasing, giving him a little squeeze in response.

“Yea, yea.. you know you love doing it though~”

That was definitely one thing Gyutaro enjoyed about you as-well, the playful banter you two had. It was a nice way for him to let off steam and spend time with you without having to do too much. After all of his struggles he didn’t figure he would ever be able to have such domestic interactions as this.

But oh how you proved him wrong..

And he loved you for it, every little single thing about you, every single little moment he spent with you. All of your flaws, when you were angry or sad, every. Single. Damn. Thing.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a little yawn escaping your lips, resting your head back down.

“I love you, Taro..”

Your words made his heart flutter and his head go blank. No matter how many times you could say that it would always have the exact same effect, and he loved it.

“I love you too, sweetie..”

[starsomens]

Can you write something based on Death of Peace of Mind? It’s so smut potential 🫠🫠🫠

Note: ABSOLUTLY. I'll be involving the lyrics but not in the bad relationship way yk?? i hope that makes sense

Warnings: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!! SMUT! Dirty talk, penetration, dominant Noah, Oral (Female receiving), semi rough sex, knd of mirror sex??, slight degrading, i-miss-you-sex, based on the song but not in the "bad relationship" way. use protection!

You were currently waiting at the terminal for the boys to show up. This was a surprise however for Noah! You had spoken with jolly before the left and he sent you all the travel information.

Leaving was always the harder part for you both. He would love for you come with him, but touring is a job and a half. He wouldn’t want to stress you out or work you to the bone. So you’d say you prolonged and sometimes tearful Goodbye, praying it goes by quicker than you think.

You watch the screen carefully for his flight to be announced. You shuffle from side to side both excited and nervous. The door of his flight lights up and it meant he was coming soon. You made sure you were away from the crowd but also somewhere he could see you clearly.

A familiar tall male had entered the terminal and you had to refrain yourself from running to him. He hasn’t noticed you just yet, so you carefully wave at jolly. He whispered something to Noah and he looked around confused. His eyes finally met yours and your face breaks into a large smile as he walks to you quickly.

“Baby” he nearly whispers as he captures you in his arms for a long hug. He straightens out and lifts you from the ground slightly. He face comes from out of your shoulder to kiss you deeply. Oh how he missed kissing you like this.

“Baby..Princess…sunshine..” he says between kisses to your lips “I missed you so much”

“I missed you too baby. A lot” you say as your eyes water a bit. His large thumbs coming to wipe them away. After your small reunion you say hello to the rest of the band and find your way to luggage. The entire time was filled with hugs and kisses whenever you could get them. After getting your luggage you actually split in the parking lot since you had driven there. The drive back was mostly catching up, kisses at the red light, pictures, and even some new tshirts he had saved for you.

Once you had gotten home you were trying to open the door but someone had started to get handsy. His large figure encasing yours as his hands wonder your body. As if he was trying to memorize the map of your body again

"Noah, baby we gotta get inside first" you chuckle as you felt his digits crawl under your shit and massage the flesh. His lips finding their place on your neck.

"Y/N, baby. I've been gone from you for too long to be patient, I need you." he whispers into your ear. You could feel him hardening as he pulled you closer. Finally you had gotten the door open and were able to get inside. Lips never leaving one others as clothes wore torn off and forgotten on the floor. You make your way up the stairs as best as you can, stumbling one or two times Refusing to break contact. Once in his room, the door was closed and you were pushed onto the bed.

"Fuck princess, I fucking missed you" he groans as he kissed down your body. he came to his knees and pulled down your panties. "I missed how you taste." without hesitation he pulls your knees on to his shoulders and dove into your pussy like a starved man.

"Oh fuck! Noah Please!" you throw your head back on to the bed as you relish in the feeling of him eating you out. He's said it before and will prove it over and over again, he loved eating you out. He loved how he could have control over your pleasure, make you squirm, moan and loose control. One hand sat on your thigh, keeping you open for him, while the other moved up and down you leg caressing your knee every now and then.

Your fingers scratch and pull at his scalp as he lapped at your clit. His lips wrap around the sensitive bundle and sucks on it roughly. You felt something prodding at your entrance, Noah then slips in his middle and ring finger.

"You take me so easy baby. So wet, just for me." he watches as his digits pump in and out of you

"Noaaahhh~" you whine as he curls his fingers to brush against that spot

"Yea baby, let me hear you." he smirks giving small licks to your clit "Gonna cum for me? Like my good girl? Cum for me." your hips buck into his mouth as you feel yourself come closer. He could feel how you constrict around him, he knew you were close. His fingers rub against your spot and his lips suck on your clit pushing you over the edge. Coating his fingers in your cum, he pulls them out and gives a long lick to your aching pussy.

"Your taste, it's addictive" he said coming up from the floor "Now, on your hands and knees baby" as you flip over his hand comes down for a firm spank on your ass. You jump with a surprised squeak

He slides himself into the heat of your walls and groans from the tightness. You let out a weak moan from the fulness of his dick, but also the sensitivity from your last orgasm.

"Fuck, baby. You're so fucking tight. God I missed you so much" In this moment, he couldn't help but remember his performance whenever he was singing those famous lyrics. Every time he sung. those words all he could think about were moments like this. You're most passionate and intimate moments together and how he missed them when he was on tour. It felt like he almost couldn't breathe without it. He missed you. Your touch, the way you tasted, the way you moan his name, the way you'd crumble in his hold, everything.

His hands comes to your shoulder and pushed you down to the mattress. The meat of your ass pressing into his hips just how he liked it.

"Look at yourself princess" he comes down to your shoulder and whispers as he laid kisses to the skin "look how you were made for me. This pussy is mine, you're mine." he pulls out nearly half way and plunges back in. He finds a steady rhythm, his hips meeting your ass, the erotic sound of skin against skin fill the room.

"that's it, my good little slut" he pants focusing on either the mirror or your figure

"Ah Noah! Right there!"

"Yea baby...fuck! Say my name!" he growls picking up his pace "I fucking missed that...say my name."

"N-Noah...fuck " you whimper out "Noah I'm close!" you whine. The familiar feeling of a tight knot formed in your stomach. Another wave of sweet ecstasy was just in reach. But of course, the man you loved pulls out just when you were ready to cum

"Noah!!" you whine from the throb he left behind. He chuckles at your frustration and sits on the bed facing the mirror. His legs hanging over the edge

"Come get on me baby. I know you miss fucking this way" if he wasn't right you'd be pissed. Crawling over you straddle him with your back facing him. You hold his dick in place as you sit down on the length and sigh feeling him much deeper than the last position you were in. His hands roam up your body and cup your breast and give them a squeeze.

"Yea just like that baby. Fuck yourself on me" he encourages you as he sucks on your neck, leaving his mark over your skin. "Fuck princess. My dirty little princess, likes watching herself me huh?" he growls with a nip to your ear

"Y-yes Noah!~" Noah meets your hips half way, buckingupwards, filling the room with sinful noises.

"Fuck! Squeeze me just like that! Where...do you, want my cum?" he asks feeling himself come close to bursting

"Inside, please....p-please baby" you moan as you ride him harder, his tip hitting your cervix

"..fuck, fuck baby! I'm gonna...cuming!" his arm wrapping around your waist keeping your close to his own body as his other hand turns your face his way to hold you in a kiss. He filled you so deliciously, to the brim just how you remembered. he pulls out of you carefully and you turn around. His lips kissing yours again but much sweeter and softer, as if he were making up for the rougher sex.

"How about a nice shower to clean up?" you offer

"So we could make another mess in the bathroom?" he laughs

"Ha ha, only if you help clean after"

"Anything for you babes" he kisses your cheek." and stands with you to walk over to the bathroom for a much needed shower.

BONUS:

"moonlight?" you ask as your head laid on his chest

"Yes sunshine?" he reciprocated your nickname

"why were you quoting your song while we had sex?" you asked taking notice

"Oh, cause that's how I feel when I'm away from you. I miss every aspect of you and its the 'death of peace of my mind' " he air quotes

"Awh my romantic man" you kiss where his heart lays

"You know you love it" he smiles holding you closer to him

"Yes I do"

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