#if only that held any weight ugh

[vaugarde]

ok sorry for grace ranting again but like. no really did infinity train fans and i watch the same season because literally so much shit ppl claim about her is not true

[yorsgirl]

In His Arms

Levi Ackerman x Reader

Synopsis: Why should you look for another place to die when you have his arms around you?

Tropes: Angst, major character death

Warnings: Canon Timeline, gn!reader, angst, unhappy ending, non-explicit violence.

Word count: 2.03k

You never liked the sun all that much.

It was always too bright, too warm…always just too much. Even then, the scorching heat did nothing but increase your irritation as you laid sprawled out on the open grass field. Your body felt abnormally paralyzed, heart beating right in your ear; drowning out all the noises of the disaster happening around you.

You don’t remember how you got there.

Honestly, you couldn’t remember anything that happened in the past hour. But you laid there - on the lush green field while the sun burnt your skin, lungs constricting with every breath you took.

You were tired. Exhausted even. Wishing nothing but to fall into a deep slumber. But you can’t. Not in this filthy field (what if some insect crawls up your ear), not when the sun burns so hot (ugh, so annoying), not when your thumping, loud heartbeat almost scared you.

The wish was thrown out of the window when you felt something trickle down the side of your eye. Warm. Assuming it's sweat, you groggily moved your hand to wipe it away. Your eyes drift off to your palm – thick, warm liquid stained it red.

Blood.

For a second, you gazed at it with curiosity.

The next, everything hits you like a bullet to the gut.

The expedition, the unfruitful sighting of two abnormals near your flank, comrades that were trampled or ripped apart by the titans and at last…when it held you in its grasp; ready to chew onto your flesh.

You still didn’t remember, what happened to the accused titan that dared to make you its snack. You groaned but it came out as blood spitting coughs, as you tried to roll over – failed. Everything was still a blur.

Your solitude was cut short when you heard a thud. A figure dropped beside you.

Tufts of Jet black hair and a pair of steel blue eyes hovered through your hazy vision.

“Levi...” Voice strained yet you were able to say his name, without coughing up blood.

The said man kneeled, picking you up in his arms, your head laid on the crook of his elbow and forearm. He gently wiped away the blood aside your eyes and forehead, his touch – like a petal falling on water; almost soothing your aching body.

“I am here,” He assured you, his eyes focused on your face. He didn’t dare look down your body. The sight, even too terrifying for him.

Your right leg was missing from the knee down, the gash running through your abdomen – too deep. The blood loss was significant; staining the grass around red.

In any normal circumstance, he could carry you effortlessly. But this very day, his arms felt weak while supporting just your upper body weight, fingers trembling as he brushed off your hair.

It was minutes ago when Levi reached near the vicinity of your flank (or what once was) after being informed by a fellow soldiers that two aberrants were sighted there. He remembered the moment, the titan’s hand wrapped around your abdomen, as it held one of your limbs in its mouth, the shrieks of horror combined with pain that escaped your lips; enough to break the barriers of his rage.

For a moment, he was pushed back into the utter depths of his memory. A similar expedition, like this one… with a similar scenario where an aberrant took away the lives of his then, only family.

It couldn’t happen again. He couldn’t lose you too…

He just couldn’t.

Seconds, in literal seconds did he disintegrate those titans, their remains were nothing but blobs of flesh accompanied by the blood. The titan- or rather titans, which dared to grasp you; their corpses no- more like what was left of their corpses were left around the bloodied field, steaming into air.

It was painful.

For both of you.

He couldn’t conjure the courage to look down on your injured body, the realization that you wouldn’t make it – too difficult to be accepted. Instead he just stayed silent, as you tried to breathe, all while your chest burned.

“Levi… wh-” You were caught in a coughing fit, spitting blood out of your mouth.

“Easy, don’t talk.” His voice reaches your ears, he gingerly wipes away the blood from your chin. “I am here…” He repeats. You are going to be okay, he wants to tell you that you’d be alright. But he knows the inevitable and he knows you do too.

So the words died down.

Weakly raising your hand to cup his cheek, feeling his skin on yours; one last time. As your trembling fingertips trailed over his cheekbone, his rough hand held yours atop, running the pad of his thumb across the creases of your palm.

Oh… how much you wished for time to stop now.

To let you be like this. In his arms. Just where you were meant to be.

“I am going to die, aren’t I?”

The cursed words lolls off your lips so easily. And Levi just wishes, why does he have to bear this torment?

It’s a question you’ve asked him previously too. A lot of times to say the least. It was annoying, he had thought those times. Shushing you down with the usual - you still have time.

That time is up.

“I told you to not speak.” He rebuked harshly.

But why does this harsh attitude seems to arise from a place of tenderness?

“No,” You state with conviction even though your tone quivered. “You know it too.” You noticed the tighter grip on your hand as well as the stiffening of his body. You were right, he knows it too.

Levi knows he’s in amidst titan territory, he knows letting down his guard is the worst option but… he can’t leave you there. The regret of not staying with you now, would be greater than any regret that he might feel later.

So, he sat down properly, cradling your head on his lap. He stared right into your eyes, memorizing the colour and how the sunlight reflects on them. He gazed down at your lips, memorizing the way it curled as you speak.

 The fluttering of your eyelids does not go unnoticed. He tracd his finger down to the pulse point on your wrist. The rhythm eerily slow.

You held his gaze, focusing on his features through the blur. And even if you don’t like the sun, you can’t help but love how the periphery of his face glowed under its light. You etched the feeling of his touch to your mind.

There are so many words you wanted to say to him, so many sentiments whirling inside you which you wished to let him know.

But you don’t. The declarations too long and time too short.

Even then, in that moment you know he has his tongue tied too. The words left on the tip of his lips, never voiced out.

A silence befell you both, as if pushing you into a trance of your own. A place where these titans don’t exist, the complexities of this ongoing war vanished. Leaving you both at each other’s mercy.

The pain that surged through both of you, for a second stops. Converting into something warm…

You lived in that intimate moment with him. When words fell short, but the thread tying his soul to yours remained strong.

After a short while, a noise erupted from you. Instead of cries of pain or anguish, you let out a chuckle. Causing Levi to give you a look, questioning himself if you had gone insane.

“Ah- looks like I will be leaving before y-you,” You chuckled again, as it was followed by a painful cough.

His eyes narrowed, lips twisting into a frown, “And you are laughing?”

“Would be able to re-rest finally.” Your lips stretch in a grin. “It’s tiring to tr-train under you… every day.”

There’s a reason he found you annoying.

The corners of his lip twitched as he wondered would it be the right time to smack your head and talk some sense into you. But he refrained, just glaring at you. The glare isn’t filled with rage, rather undertones of despair.

“It’s tiring… to train under me?”

“uh huh,” You would have nodded but movement seemed challenging too. He almost wants to flick your forehead for making a joke out of this situation. But that’s just who you were. One of the many reasons he fell for you.

He understood your playfulness. A way to divert his mind. He had sworn to not regret anything but there are times. Times when he can’t help but do so. It were one of the rare times. And you just happened to be the antidote in this predicament.

Humorous, it was. You were standing on the edge of life, still it were you comforting him.

He pondered on what he did to deserve you.

The grin stayed on your lips quickly followed by another coughing fit.

Levi gently rubbed your back and shoulders – his touch again easing the pain that coursing through your ripped abdomen.

“Levi…” You call his name again, the word falling off your lips so sweetly.

Oh, how much, he wished that he’d get to hear it again and again.

His eyes flicker to your face again, even though that blood dripped down the side of your face and your eyes half-lidded; he can’t help but still find you beautiful.

As beautiful as always.

“I’m listening.”

You smile, breathing heavily, eyelids drooping down as you force them to stay open. “O-oh nothing... just wanted to say your name.”

He gulps down the lump forming in his throat, wondering how easily you had always understood him. Through the silent nights you spent on the rooftops or when he completed his paperworks as you prepared him tea.

“But if I had to ask for something… hey… Levi,” You whined with a frown. You assumed he wasn’t listening. But he was listening.

Always listening.

“What?” The heaviness in his voice was evident, he was holding back from crumbling down. His eyes drooped down, the grimace on his lips; an expression you knew all too well.

You breathed in sharply as the smile remained, “Watch it… till the end, for me.”

His eyes flickered with something for a second, before he blinked. Once. Twice. The pad of his thumb running circles on your cheek.

With the tightness in his chest, he nodded, “I will.” The same grin from earlier gets plastered on your face again. That assurance was enough for you.

For, if you can’t see the outside world, to taste freedom in its true form. You at least want him to watch it for you, to live in it for you.

Your chest burned again, the blood loss taking a toll on you as your head felt awfully light. Levi noticed it too along with the coldness of your body, as the pulse rate has almost diminished.

“I am sleepy,” Your voice being a mere whisper.

He knew and you did too.

The time has come.

“Sleep,” He replied, “You’ve fought for long, rest easy now. I’ll be here.”

He gingerly caressed your face once again, his steel grey eyes fixated on yours as if there’s no tomorrow, thumb tracing the outline of your lips.

“And when you wake up…” He gazed at you with so much longing and affection. “I will find you again.”

Your lips cracked into one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen. A smile he locked into his memory. With a slight nod of your head, your eyelids closed.

You breathed out once. Then never.

Levi stayed there, holding you tight for as long as he could remember.

As the despicable sun shone on the unlucky lovers, a little too brightly and the noises from the catastrophe elsewhere started to sync in. The grassfield was still as bloody and filthy.

You passed away, in the place you loathed. But didn’t, in your last moments.

Through unsaid words and silent promises, you took your last breath. But it was alright. Cause you were where you were meant to be.

You were in his arms.

[comatosebunny09]

Sleeping together is normal.

You’ve shared beds before like this. Slept beneath the stars with nothing but rubble at your feet, and itchy grass at your backs. But tonight is unlike any other night you’ve spent together. It feels different. As if the air is charged with electricity and something heady in between.

In the back of your tangled mind, you knew admitting your secret desires over a harmless game of 21 Questions would pique his interest. Hells, you had prayed it would. Maybe tonight would be the night that he held you a little tighter, kissed that sensitive spot behind your ear, and acted on the subtle hints he tossed your way.

You can dream.

The silence that stretches between you is unnerving.

Your heart pounds in your ears, your fingers aching with the need to touch. Your sleepiness has faded into the background, replaced by anxiety welling in your gut. It would take nothing to lean up onto your elbows, conquer the space between your mouths, and just—

Ugh! What if you’ve misread the room? What if he only sees you as a friend?

Through the dimness blanketing the room, Astarion’s gaze searches through yours. A beautiful maelstrom of emotions swimming beneath them, looking for something. An indication of discomfort. A plea for him to stay. A silent demand for him to piss off. Anything. He doesn’t press, though his head screams for him to weasel a confession out of you.

When you do not speak, a wistful smile rounds Astarion’s lips. Your silence serves as his answer. He lifts himself from your bedside, turning away towards the entryway. Offers a somber goodnight, darling over his shoulder, but—

Your hand encircling his wrist halts his retreat. He’s wide-eyed when he looks back at you, his voice corked in his throat. You tug again, your gaze averted, and the warmth of bashfulness explodes like solar flares beneath your skin.

Look at you, acting all shy as if he hasn’t seen you bleed.

Astarion moves on autopilot, kneeling again beside you, enraptured by your touch. His mouth quivers with a question; brows furrowed with compassion.

Say the word. Say it. Just—

You beat him to the punch. Release his hand, mournful of the loss of his cool veins dancing beneath your fingertips. You peer down at the wrinkled comforter, fiddling with some frayed threads at its corner. Your saliva scorches your throat as you swallow thickly, willing your vocal cords to work.

“You know I’m afraid of the dark,” you rumble, voice rivaled by the soft wind outside.

It isn’t a complete lie. You’ve always squeezed Astarion a little tighter when the candlelight dwindled—curled up into his side with the blanket pulled over your head, succumbing to the security he provided, fearful of the things that went bump in the night. Like he didn’t once live amongst them. 

It clicks in his mind like the hammer of a revolver slamming forward. He tastes the subtle undercurrents of your timbre. Feels relief coating his rib cage at your plea for his company.

Stay.

Astarion snorts. Smiles, something boyish and genuine, the bulk of his hand swallowing up your wrist. He draws your gaze to him, his teeth shining through the muted light.

“Is that your way of asking me to stay?”

His tone is disarming. Causes your shoulders to drop from your ears and your jaws to unclench. A smirk cants the corner of your lips. Though adrenaline flows through your extremities like liquid fire, you entertain his cheekiness.

“Maybe.”

He peels back the comforter before you can react. The bed croaks beneath his weight, and you shimmy towards the wall to allow him space. Your feet brush, the sensation setting your nerves alight. In your peripheral, Astarion grins. A lithe mass of sinewy muscle and protectiveness looming on the opposite side of the bed.

He makes no move to do anything further. Always a gentleman despite your bodies crying out for each other. Despite his fingers twitching in his lap, and the longing coloring your eyes.

Just…fucking touch me already.

Time eases by like this. Astarion beside you, recounting old memories from adventures long ago. And you both laugh a little. Gradually scoot closer until the moon sits high in the sky, and exhaustion clings to the bags beneath your eyes. You use that as an excuse to snuggle up to him. Though you rarely need a reason to. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer, and the comforter up to your chin. He makes you feel safe. He always does. Always has.

Without thinking, you twine your fingers together. Test the waters, searching his eyes for any signs of discomfort. When he doesn’t say anything, you’re emboldened to bring his hand to your lips and you kiss his knuckles. He stiffens, breath hitches, mouth hangs slightly open. Gradually relaxes little by little. Looks at you with uncertainty in his eyes, as if he’s ready to dive off that cliff with you if you’ll allow him to. You try again, your lashes fluttering. The wine’s long settled in your system. It’s all instinct urging you forward now.

He brings your hand to his mouth to pay the same homage. And then he’s kissing up your wrist, forearm, further still…can’t help himself, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Lids shutter while his lips seal to yours in a kiss. Slow at first. Gentle because he doesn’t want to scare you off. But he’s waited so long for this. You both have. So pardon him for being a little overzealous. A little swept up in the moment.

You pull away, intoxicated by his earthy scent and the plushness of his lips. Study him, drunk off the feel of him and the soft breaths fanning across your skin.

You kiss again. A little more confident this time. A little more eager. He cups your jaw. Drags you down onto the bed beneath him, mouth slanting possessively over yours, fangs gnashing against your teeth. It’s like a dream. Your hair puddles around you on the pillow. You’re holding his palms to your cheeks, brows pinched, afraid that if he lets go, the dream will shatter. But you’re not dreaming this time. The hoarse, agonized groan he pushes between your lips is proof of it.

[zae-heeyyy]

Valor

Summary: Arthur takes you on one of his adventures. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!Reader Word Count: 1,760 Trigger Warning: Animal attack, angry-ish Arthur, violence Tags: mid- high honor Arthur, damsel in destress, fluff, and angst

a/n: Hey y'all! It's been a while since I posted because life is crazy right now. This is a request from @littlemistey. I'm paraphrasing from our convo, "Arthur x reader where the reader is saved by Arthur from almost being mauled by a cougar or a pack of wolves." Sketches are copied/cut from Arthur's journal. A classic "Arthur Morgan, please save me" trope. Thanks for reading!

Valor: Great courage in the face of danger, especially in battle. It denotes bravery and heroism, particularly in challenging or risky situations.

The bones in your wrists ached with the numbing weight of boredom as another morning of chores lumbered on. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. Intertwined pieces of yarn grew longer at your feet as the knitting cadence played in your head. You'd zoned out, daydreaming of anything more exciting than this.

A rhythmic clank of guns on a belt alerted you to your approaching burly cowboy.

You would've been glad to see him any other time, but your contempt for your chores and an odd hat on his head made you groan with irritation. A lit cigarette sat snug between his lips as he talked, muffling his speech.

"Why you sittin' here with your lip stuck out?" he asked, adjusting his belt and sitting beside you on a wooden crate. He tossed the cigarette away, leaned over to kiss the temple of your head, and placed a hand on the small of your back.

"Bored outta my mind," you complained. The sun reflected off a shiny decorative piece on his hat, making you squint. "And why are you wearing that stupid hat?"

"What?" he opened his hands out questioningly with a goofy grin stretched across his face. "A man keeps this camp afloat, and he can't even wear a nice hat without his lady callin' it stupid."  

You rolled your eyes and gestured to all the women in the camp, cleaning tables and guns, sewing, and helping with dinner.

"No, we keep this camp afloat while you men are out doing god knows what," you said, your stitches getting sloppier as your vexation grew. "I'm losing my mind here. Meanwhile, you come back with fancy trinkets, weird statues, emeralds, and crazy hats! You know, I think you do the robbing and hunting only sometimes, and when that's done, you're just out there playing around!"

You finally stopped knitting and turned to Arthur, whose playful grin had faltered into a thoughtful glance. You continued your monologue, "Ugh! I swear, if you don't get me outta here, I'm gonna stab Grimshaw through the eye with this needle!"

You held the sharp point inches away from Arthur's face, prompting him to snatch it from you. "Alright, easy there." He grabbed your hand in two of his gloved ones and glanced at it from under the brim of his hat, thinking for a long moment, "Fine, you can come with me long as nobody gets stabbed. Can't have a degenerate murderer loose in this camp, now, can we?"

Ignoring his sarcasm, you squealed excitedly and jumped up from your spot, pulling on Arthur's arm to make him stand, too.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you said between the many kisses you laid on him. He stilled you with firm hands on your waist and chuckled.

"I reckon it won't be as exciting as you think, but I can't say no to you."

Within a few minutes, you were ready to go, aiming and checking the ammo on a varmint rifle that Arthur had given you.

"Met a strange feller, Algernon Wasp. He's a— he has— well, he— he's an artist, I guess; he's paying me to collect some stuff for his, uh, creations. Bird feathers, orchids, that kind of stuff. Would be faster with the two of us."

And that's how you found yourself in the swamps of Lemoyne with the varmint rifle slung over your shoulder as you swatted away mosquitoes and sweated your ass off. You were hot, thirsty, and worst of all, you'd only found four of the seven cigar orchids you needed.

Mud squelched under your feet as you followed behind Arthur; you spoke exasperatedly, "how much is this fool paying you for all this?"

Arthur had gone quieter as you'd gotten more frustrated over the hours. Both of you were starting to regret this decision.

"I don't know. Money is money," he said dismissively, his head on a swivel and eyes focused. You were bothered that he could so easily spot plants and always knew which direction to go, expecting you to keep pace with his long strides when mud weighed down your skirts, slowing you down. You knew it was irrational, but you were mad at him for dragging you out here despite your near begging.

The heat was getting to you, and you'd lost control of the filter from your brain to your mouth. Arthur was a few feet ahead when you started your mumbling, "goddamn swamps is no place for a lady. Gators, mud, bugs and—" You didn't get to finish your sentence before Arthur spun and made two giant steps toward you, jaw clenched.

"You got something to say?"

You crossed your arms, defiant. Arthur's reputation as a vicious intimidator didn't phase you, though. He wouldn't lay a finger on you; you both knew it. You rolled your eyes and said, "this is as boring as being back at camp, except I'm all dirty now."

He stepped closer into your space, his angry eyes searching yours. He spoke in a low volume that would scare anybody but you: "This is what you wanted, woman, so don't go gettin' mad at me because things ain't all neat and proper."

Were you frightened by him? No. Were your feelings hurt? Yes. You scoffed and nodded slowly while you spoke, "You're right. I'm gonna head to camp. I'll see you when you get back."

You didn't give him the chance to respond before you trudged in the other direction, clicking for your horse waiting nearby. Arthur watched you go until he lost sight of you in the overgrown vegetation.

Then you were on the road, your horse at a trot, when something in his line of vision spooked him. Before you could even react, you were bucked off, your head hitting the ground with a thud. Despite the pain, you knew better than to just lay there. Gators and snakes were everywhere, but only something notably terrifying would scare off your Andalusian. You took the rifle off your back, pointing it aimlessly all around, trying to focus your spinning vision on the threat beyond.

Before you could blink, a big cat took hold of your leg through your skirt. You shot wildly once, twice, then three times before the beast let go of you. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you scrambled backward as more bullets rang out from your low-caliber weapon. Hoping and praying, you squeezed the trigger one last time. Eyes closed, you prepared for the inevitable when a louder shot rang out somewhere near you.

When pain and death didn't come, you opened your eyes to see Arthur standing over you, concern distorting his face. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, and he huffed, trying to catch his breath. His hands scoured every inch of you, searching for signs of bleeding. Panic started to set in again when you realized you couldn't feel anything; you held your breath as Arthur pulled up the hem of your dress, bracing for the worst.

You breathed a sigh of relief and let your head fall back onto the ground. The puncture was minor, no worse than a needle prick. Arthur stood, using his arm to wipe away the perspiration that had soaked him. Then his anger started up again.

"Can't go getting hurt like that, girl. Shouldn't've let you run off by yourself. If something happened to you, I'd—"

"Shut up, Arthur," you rose back up and tried to smile through your unease. "I'm fine, thanks to you."

He held out a hand to pull you back to your feet, then wrapped his arms around you tight. His heart hammered against his chest, and you could hear your blood rushing through your ears. Then you finally let yourself cry in the safety of all his bulk.

"I'm sorry, sweet girl; I'm sorry." Every shakey inhale, sob, and gasp from you ripped him apart from the inside out. He was supposed to be looking after you, always, but his hardheadedness and pride left you vulnerable. Killing was the one thing he knew he was good for, and to almost fail at the cost of your life made his insides rot with guilt.

He peeled you away from his chest and cupped your face, "I won't let anything else happen to you, ya' hear?" You nodded, and he wiped dirt and tears away from your cheek with a big thumb and brought you back into him, stroking the back of your head. After a long moment, he retrieved your horse, helped you, and then rode beside you the whole way back to camp.

The next day, you gladly did your chores while Arthur went on his adventures. You didn't complain in the comfort and safety of a shade tree and other skilled gunmen. You were sitting in his tent when Arthur returned in the evening, now wearing his regular gambler's hat and carrying another adorned with floral designs and a peacock feather.

He greeted you with a peck on your cheek, joined you on the cot, and talked through a crooked smile, "found the rest of those orchids today and gave 'em to Algernon. Took this instead of the money. Think he was happier with that trade, anyway."  

The closer you looked at the beautiful monstrosity, the more you had to fight off your reaction. It was undeniably unique, but you couldn't image anyone wearing it seriously.

"It's um—," You covered your mouth to stifle your giggle, but your quaking shoulders gave you away. To your relief, Arthur joined in your laugh and placed the hat atop your head.

"He tried to give it to me, made me try it on, but I figured it'd look better on you. Now we both got a crazy hat."

The idea of Arthur standing in front of a mirror in the hat with all his hardened features made you throw your head back in near hysterics.

"Well, I will cherish that image and this hat forever. Thank you." Arthur's face softened as your amusement died down, then morphed into a lamentable combination of worry and self-loathing. You recognized it all too well.  

He stroked your face with the back of his hand and spoke in a hushed tone, "I'm sorry, again, for letting you go off by yourself like that. I—"

You silenced him with your lips, pushing him onto his back and mounting him. Your new hat fell away along with his worry as you showed him just how appreciative you were.

[tenjikufag]

I really need a sub Dabi x male reader Imagine that reader has a Tartaglia-type form and he transforms during the battle, thinking that he scared Dabi with it, but this only manifests dirty thoughts in his head. Nsfw please (sorry if it's too much 😭🙏) P.s I watched the new season and it's soooo good 😩

Short Fuse.

Dabi x Hero!MaleReader

-smut, dirty thoughts, rough sex, DOM!READER, sub!Dabi, size difference, dubious consent(?), knife mention, crying, slight degradation

-thank you for the request. I haven’t caught up with the anime yet but I’ve been reading the manga and wowie.. but I hope this is what you wanted or meant, wasn’t sure if you wanted villain or not..

The League of Villains surrounded you and your fellow heroes, you’d been stuck with their flame quirk user and it put you at a standstill.

You held a typical hydro quirk, one that allows weapons to manifest from water alone and gave you the ability to cause on land tidal waves and seismic ripples with underground water reserves.

But, even with the upper hand you’d become exhausted because of the power of Dabi’s quirk; being able to turn all the water that surrounded you to nothing but steam that would burn those around who hadn’t trained to succeed in such a scorching environment.

“Say hero, why don’t ya give up already. All your friends are dyin’ around you.. can’t you help them?”

He was right, but the way he chuckled ignited a new surge of energy.

You would surely fall into his hands if you pushed your quirk any further without using.. that side of your quirk.

A secondary trait wasn’t common but it’s what you had. It wasn’t a flattering trait and you’d been told to keep it under wraps.. it could be viewed as a villainous quirk. That’s what you were told at least.

It was scary. Terrifying even, one that you’d imagine a villain to have.

It would be a shock factor, hopefully, and this was life or death for you and the others..

Inhaling deeply, you allowed for the electric currents caused by water and the seismic rifts to fester in your body. It hurt, and you would have hell to pay physically for doing so.

Screaming loudly you charged at the patched male, before he could burn you to a crisp you quickly used him as a launching pad and tossed yourself into the air above him. He fell to his knees and quickly whipped around with his hand out to let a burst of flames out.

His eyes widened, the large form creating a dooming shadow over him and shading the blazing sun from him.

Dabi shook in excitement, you’d grown twice maybe triple the size you were, violet tinted black armour covered your body and a feathery collar to top it off.

The single eye in the center of the new mask pointed its gaze down to him.. before he could fully comprehend the sight he was sent flying from a sudden shock of electricity.

Grunting, he went to try and hit you again but was only pile-drived through the terrain. Even through the terrain and pain, he felt himself heat up from the grasp you had on him..

You were so big.. your hands easily wrapping around his waist and the power you exuded.. he was excited.

“Ugh.. quite the form ya got there..”

He pathetically laid under you, pinned by your weight and with his shirt shredded to bits he was almost exposed to you. The tightness in his pants was keeping him from moving further..

Dabi couldn’t help the perverted thoughts he had, scanning you as you loomed over him..

Did everything grow? Was this just armour or is everything huge now.. he could see your neck through a gap in the armour, feeling himself drool a little at the sight of your shiny sweat.

How would it taste? How would you taste? Were you salty, sweet, pungent.. maybe even savoury? Was there an underlying musk or was it overwhelmingly musky and manly.. the idea of tasting even a lick of your sweat made him cross his legs even if he was held under a deadly grip.

You took his silence and halted movement as fear, he only stared up at you with wide eyes and his body was stiff and rigid in your grip. The swirling in your stomach festered while his bright eyes stared, you heard the cameras flashing and people scream around you. Even in such a fierce battle the cameras were always on, there were still onlookers who stood too stubborn to leave- claiming you’d save them even if they stayed.

“No more moves, Dabi?”

Dabi gulped, swallowing his excess saliva and the lump in his throat bobbed.. he didn’t want you to let go of him or leave and he needed to find a way to keep you near him.

Raising his hand, he reached out towards your face.. instinctively you flinched away and shoved your hand further into his abdomen; making him wheeze out from the pressure.

Before you could question or do anything further, he blasted a large burst of flames into your face- the heat making you collapse along with the fumes taking every ounce of air from your lungs.

Dabi expected you to fall on top of him, ready for the impact of all your weight ontop of him but you managed to fall to the side.. smirking, he greedily took in the image of you lurched over and grinned while he watched you shrink. Before the smoke and flames could clear he grabbed you and took off.

You were bigger and buffer than him before, with him carrying you the size difference in your normal form was still enough to keep up his excitement.. your hand that laid over his shoulder was almost twice the size of his.. did you really finish shrinking or were you naturally this big? He shuddered, thinking of all the things you could do to him if he wasn’t so sly and greedy. He always got what he wanted, and he wanted you.

—

He brought you to a hidden area, not that far away from the actual fight but far enough that it would be considered an evacuated zone.

You came to almost as soon as he dropped you to the ground, and he smiled deviously while you blinked away the pain- trying to stand only to stumble around without finding your footing.

“Havent you found yourself in a fun scenario, hero?”

Looking up, you caught the bright eyes of Dabi, he sat on a chair with his legs crossed.. you went to attack but only fell to clutch your side.

The after effects from your secondary trait kicking in, your thoughts no longer all that self preserving or even coherent.

“Gotta say.. that form you took out there. I’d love to know more about it.”

Wincing, you sat down on the ground.. staring up at the man who looked like he would eat you alive..

“W..what do you mean?”

He chuckled, smoothly moving to sit infront of you- running a finger up your neck and only lightly grazing before you slapped his hand away. The finger glistened with a thin veil of your sweat, silence halted in your throat as you watched his pierced tongue lick and suck on the finger..

“You’re so big.. does that go for the rest of you?”

Going to crawl on his hands and knees, he inches closer to you- his arousal growing as he smelled you.

It wasn’t unpleasant, your faint odour covered by a cologne smell and the scents mixed only furthered his thoughts. You didn’t dare move, unsure what he was actually trying to do but the way he took in deep breathes right by your neck.. it made you gulp and want to.. you weren’t sure what you were going to do.

“It would be so fun to play with you in that form.. have you ever tried it? Do ya think anyone could even take you without being torn in half?”

“What the hell? What are you saying?!”

He pulled away with a frown, lowering himself to your thighs and only hovering above them.

“You saying it’s never been a thought? Cmon.. most people would kill to have someone as large as you tear them up..”

Your breathe hitched, blush coming over your face.. the realization hit you. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t scared of your form back there.. he was.. aroused?

“You’re not scared? My quirk didn’t scare you?!”

Dabi chuckled, taking in and reading your body language, deciding to run his hands across your thighs and up to flutter over your waist.

“I’m a villain, it takes a lot to scare me and I would never be scared of some hero.. I can tell you’re weak and won’t be able to get away from me..”

Licking his lips, his eyes trailed up to yours as he laid his cheek on your plush thigh

“Why don’t you have some fun? Push your quirk to the limit, let me see how big you really are..”

He couldn’t help it, the need, the want, for you to fuck him silly- tear him to shreds, it ached and throbbed inside of him.

You stared down at him, it had been a thought of yours but.. it was never an idea that you’d sleep with a villain!

—

Sweat, musk, a thick fragrance filled the room. It reeked in the best ways- it smelled like sex and desperation. It smelled like sin.

A hero and villain fucking each other as if it was still a life or death battle, aggressive moans and screams emptied themselves between each wall in attempts to fight their ways outside.

Dabi laid with his face pressed against the ground, tongue hanging out of his mouth while he panted like a dog. His free forming moans and whining sounding strangled from his throat.

“Such a filthy fucking villain.. where is your pride? What’s all.. this for?”

His eyes rolled back into his head, the degrading insinuations of your words bounced around his head. A life where he only stood by to be a toy for a hero would truly be a scandalous turn of events- imagine that?! All his hard work to get where he is, all the hardships, the reputation he built.. only to be dummied down to nothing but a slut for a hero..

Every buck of your hips left even less of his pride and self worth- god you were big. It felt so full. Your dick was almost in his guts and rearranging his intestines- he swore!

“What’s that? Got something to say? Let me hear it, tell me with your big boy words.”

His lip quivered, knowing he couldn’t speak through his own sounds he resorted to writhing under you.

“That’s what I thought.”

You pulled out, letting go of his waist and sitting back. Dabi looked behind him, seeing you catching your breathe and pumping yourself.

“Get over here. Now.”

With legs like jelly, he moved to pathetically crawl towards you and sit in your lap.

“Ride it.”

With a weak nod his hand reached around to fill himself up again. With tears in his eyes he tried to bounce himself- only to have his legs tremble under him and threaten to give out.

Nothing he did satisfied how you fucked him. But, his protesting whines fell on deaf ears- the look in your eyes burnt at his skin.

He needed more.

Tears started to pour from his bright eyes, with a smirk you used your quirk on his tears and made a small and razor sharp blade from the sweet liquid.

It went to his throat and pricked his skin, his sensitive scarred skin being nicked made him cry harder.

“Finish yourself, I’m getting bored.”

With a choked sob, he bounced with every drop of energy he had.. all the exhaustion from being abused by the fight and by your dick catching up far too quickly- he wasn’t done! It just wasn’t enough time but through it all he made himself cum. The gooey liquid hitting his chest and shooting just underneath his own chin.

“How pathetic. Disappointing. Can’t be a good villain and can’t even be a good fuck!”

Your hand came up and shoved his face away harshly, forcing him to fall back and get pinned by you once again- the small blade threatening his jugular once more as you laid atop of him.

“Now, I need to get myself taken care of since you wasted my time.”

With a rough thrust, your full length intruded his tight hole and hit against his gummy walls.. every thrust was deep and harsh. Dabi could only lay under you weakly and let you have your way with his body.

He wasn’t scared by your form, he was scared of you. How could a hero be this mean in sex? What a filthy and unhero-like mouth you had.. what a filthy and lewd body you had.

The time you spent abusing his body wasn’t even a tangible thought that he couldn’t comprehend- he felt like it’d been years and his body wanted to give up so badly. When he felt the hot load of cum shoot across his stomach he let out a shuttering breathe- his ass already clenching around nothing.

He needed to keep you somehow.. he needed to see you at your best if this was you tired and aching..

“And yeah, to answer you question.. it all grows. Don’t think you could handle it though, even if you are such a slut.”

With a weak smirk, he watched you leave him alone in all his shame- the faint smell of you left on his skin and making him want to try you again.

With a final shred of energy, he used a finger to pick up your cum on his stomach and shoving it down his throat.

It made every dirty thought he had resurface.. you tasted amazing. He needed more. He’d find you alone again, and show you he isn’t this weak and could please you more, he could impress you.

He wanted a hero to ruin him, and it needed to be you.

[cr-komi]

"The Distance Between Us"

Summary: You sent nudes to the biggest fuckboy on campus, what could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Min Yoongi X Female Reader

Genre: Smut, a very very small amount of fluff at the end.

Word Count: 12,400+

Warnings: Y/N is an absolute idiot, Yoongi is kind of a dick at the beginning, swearing, oral (male & female receiving), unprotected sex (don't do this, please!) missionary pos., multiple orgasms.

Author's Note: This is not proofread so I apologize if there are mistakes! This one took me forever to write because I kept having writer's block and wanted to change a bunch of it but this was the final result so I hope you all like it!

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

Come on, Y/N, just send it.

It'll be like ripping off a Band-Aid.

He'll like you even more if you do this.

It's only a picture, right?

Just a blurry mix of pixels and saturation, nothing more, nothing less.

His text glared back at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You stared at the message, contemplating every word, feeling the weight of his request pressing against your chest,

You didn't know who he was, not really. You didn't even know his name, although his phone number was engraved into your memory after seeing it so many times, tracing all the way back to that random evening a few weeks ago. But there was something about his mysterious aura that drew you in, like a moth to a flame. You couldn't resist the temptation to unravel the enigma that was him.

---

You sat in your dimly lit room, legs curled up beneath you as the soft glow of your phone illuminated your face. The familiar pang of jealousy twisted in your stomach as you obsessively scrolled through Instagram, unable to tear yourself away from the seemingly perfect lives of your friends and acquaintances.

"Ugh, another vacation?" You muttered, glaring at the screen as you saw a picture--a perfect couple sipping cocktails on a pristine beach. "Of course, they're all smiles."

Your thumb swiped upward, revealing another post showcasing an enviable group of friends laughing and posing together. Their happiness felt so unattainable, further highlighting the loneliness that had become your constant companion.

"Must be nice," You whispered, voice laced with bitterness.

Your eyes scanned the screen, taking in the meticulously curated feed that presented a world you could only dream of inhabiting.

Just as your frustration reached its peak, a flicker of light caught your attention. It was a text message notification, appearing like an oasis in the digital desert you found yourself trapped in.

Eager for any distraction, you tapped the screen, feeling a flutter of hope that maybe it was someone reaching out to you,

A simple greeting was plastered across the screen, accompanied by an unfamiliar number. Your brow furrowed as you stared at the unknown sender. Confusion gnawed at you, and you hesitated before replying,

As you typed, your fingers moved cautiously across the screen before hitting send, taking a deep breath while waiting for a response.

The reply came almost instantly,

You scoffed. Whoever this was, they seemed ignorant, and you decided to play along,

You tilted your head back, attempting to recall any instance of sharing your number, but your memory failed you. How did this random stranger end up with your contact information when you couldn't remember giving it to them?

Your heart began to pound at his reply, fingertips hovering above the screen. "Is this some kind of prank?" you mumbled, mind racing with possibilities. Was it someone from school trying to mess with you? You haven't talked to Jungkook since your freshman year of college when he was your partner for a science project, why would he give your number out?

You couldn't shake off the feeling of intrigue and curiosity that coursed through your veins. Despite the skepticism that crept into your mind, a part of you wanted to believe that this encounter held some sort of significance. Perhaps it was a twist of fate, an unexpected connection waiting to be unveiled.

With hesitant determination, you decided to take a leap of faith and continue the conversation. The prospect of embarking on something new, something beyond the confines of your monotonous daily routine, enticed you. After all, what harm could it do?

You sighed, contemplating why Jungkook would be giving your number out, or how he even got it in the first place.

Your mind craved to uncover the truth behind this mysterious text conversation, even if it meant stepping into unknown territory,

You stared blankly at your phone, eager for a reply, but you were met with only silence. Minutes stretched into hours, and still no response came. Doubt began to creep in, mingling with the confusion that had settled in your mind. Maybe this was all just a cruel joke, a ploy to toy with your emotions.

But something inside you refused to believe that. There was an inkling of curiosity, a flicker of hope that urged you to hold on a little longer. So you waited, your eyes never straying far from your phone.

Days had turned into weeks, and yet the mysterious sender remained silent. The initial excitement had waned, leaving behind a sense of disappointment that weighed heavily on your shoulders. You couldn't help but wonder if you had been foolish for getting caught up in this unknown person's game.

The idea of giving up on waiting for a response finally began to creep in, but just as you were about to delete the number and move on, a notification jolted your phone awake. You hesitated, your finger hovering over the screen, afraid to hope again.

With a deep breath, you finally slid your finger across the screen, unlocking the message. Your heart sunk down into your stomach as you read the words that appeared before you,

Fuck.

--- Ever since the day he asked if you sent nudes, you had been giving yourself over to him, allowing him to slowly chip away at your self-worth. Each time he asked, you obliged, sending him a piece of yourself captured through the lens of your phone. It started as something simple, maybe a picture of your cleavage or the curve of your ass, just as you had convinced yourself in the beginning. But with each photo sent, you felt a piece of your soul fade, replaced by an emptiness that gnawed at you from the inside out.

You desperately craved his validation, his affection, believing that if you gave him what he wanted, he would finally see your worth. But no matter how many pictures you sent, it was never enough. He always asked for more. More skin, more vulnerability, more pieces of you to devour.

With every photo, you hoped for a different reaction from him - one that acknowledged your value as more than just pixels and saturation. But all he ever responded with were simple words of praise and shallow compliments that never reached beyond the surface.

You were losing yourself in the process, your identity becoming reduced to a series of explicit images sent through a screen. Each picture felt like a betrayal to your own integrity, yet you continued to send them, hoping that this time would be different, that this time he would finally see you.

But deep down, you knew the truth. He didn't truly care about you. You were nothing more than his object of desire, a means to fulfill his own selfish needs. The more pictures you sent, the more power he held over you.

You found yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, phone in hand, tears streaming down your face as you stared at his latest text message. It was as if a veil had been lifted from your eyes, revealing the harsh reality of what this relationship had become. You were nothing more than an object to him, a means to fulfill his desires without any regard for your own well-being.

The weight of his words pressed upon your chest, suffocating you with the realization that you had lost yourself in this desperate quest for validation. The vibrant colors of your world had faded into shades of gray, and you yearned to break free from the suffocating grip he had on your emotions.

There was a fire burning deep within you, a fire of anger and resentment that you had been trying to suppress for far too long. It was time to let it out, to confront him and put an end to this vicious cycle you had been caught in. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation that lay ahead, and that begun with asking Jungkook why he was giving your number away.

---

You spotted him on campus his familiar figure standing near the brick wall of the main building, a smirk playing on his lips as he chatted with the same group of friends he was always with, their laughter echoing through the air. It was a scene you had witnessed countless times before.

His presence sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of annoyance and frustration coursing through your veins. You felt a surge of anger rise within you, fueling your determination to confront him. With each step closer, your heart pounded louder in your ears, drowning out the noise of passing students and the rustling leaves overhead. Pushing through the crowd, you made your way toward him, ignoring the curious glances from passersby.

As you approached, Jungkook's eyes met yours, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before being replaced by his signature nonchalant expression. His friends noticed your arrival too, their conversations dying down as they turned their attention to the unfolding scene.

"Jungkook!" you called out, your voice stronger than you had anticipated. His attention snapped towards you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked you up and down.

"Y/N, right? Shit, I haven't talked to you in awhile. How have you be--"

"Have you been giving my number out?" You interrupted, your voice dripping with anger. His attempt at casual conversation only fueled your frustration. You crossed your arms, staring him down with unyielding determination.

Jungkook's expression shifted, a hint of guilt clouding his features for a moment. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Look, if this is about the text messages--"

"Of course it is," you snapped, your voice laced with bitterness. "What else would it be about? You're the one who gave my number away without my permission!"

Jungkook's friends exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the tension between the two of you. Jungkook ran a hand through his tousled hair, his gaze shifting to the ground beneath him.

"I didn't think it would be a big deal," he muttered, barely meeting your eyes, "he told me I wanted it so I gave it to him."

Your jaw dropped at his words, a mix of anger and disbelief bubbling up inside you. How could he so casually dismiss your privacy and consent? How could he believe that just because someone wanted your number, it was okay to give it away without your permission?

"Who are you talking about? Who did you even give my number out to?"

"Does it really matter?" Jungkook replied, his voice laced with irritation. "It's not like it's a big deal. You're making a fuss out of nothing."

"Jungkook, it absolutely matters!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with a mixture of anger and hurt. "You violated my privacy. You had no right to give out my number without my consent."

Jungkook nodded, glancing around nervously before finally meeting your gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's Yoongi," he confessed, his eyes filled with remorse, "He said he knew you from one of your classes and wanted to get to know you better."

Jungkook's words hung in the air, like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You could feel the blood rushing to your face, your heart pounding in your chest. How could he trust Yoongi with your personal information without even asking you?

"Yoongi?" You echoed, feeling a strange mix of relief and betrayal. "Why would he ask for my number in the first place?"

Jungkook hesitated, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I don't know, Y/N. If you want to figure it out, ask him, he's over there."

Taking a deep breath, you turned your attention towards where Jungkook had gestured. Your eyes fell upon a figure standing a few feet away, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. His expression was unreadable, a flicker of in his eyes of something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

As soon as he met your gaze, he smirked, walking off in a crowd of students with an air of nonchalance. Your anger and frustration intensified as you watched Yoongi disappear into the distance, leaving you with more questions than answers.

"Thank you, Jungkook." You mumbled, but before he could offer a response, you turned on your heel and began to chase after Yoongi, set on confronting him and demanding an explanation. Those who surrounded you parted ways as you weaved through the crowd, your heart pounding in your chest, fueling your determination to catch up to him.

The campus was bustling with students going about their day, but you barely registered their presence. Your focus was solely on finding Yoongi and demanding an explanation for his actions. As you made your way through the crowd, the image of his smirking face played over and over in your mind, intensifying your frustration and boldness.

You clenched your fists as you trailed behind Yoongi across the college campus, leaves crunching underfoot.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fueled by anger and determination. You had been following him for what felt like hours – down crowded halls, past classrooms filled with students, even into a noisy cafeteria where you had to duck behind a vending machine to avoid detection, and although he had looked behind him numerous times during the journey, your remained unnoticed.

You watched as he strolled casually, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his faded denim jacket, apparently oblivious to your presence. But every time you thought you were about to catch up to him, he would disappear around a corner or slip through a door, leaving you becoming increasingly more and more frustrated.

As you navigated through the labyrinthine campus, your mind raced. Why had he texted you in the first place? What kind of person asks someone for nudes out of the blue? And how could you have been so stupid as to trust him?

With so many questions running through your mind, you became distracted, losing sight of him yet again.

Frustrated, you gave up and retreated to the library, the closest place you could find after travelling on foot for so long.

The hushed atmosphere there was a welcome respite from the chaos of your pursuit, and you sank into a plush armchair near the back, your eyes scanning the shelves aimlessly.

And that's when you saw him.

Yoongi was standing in the history section, a heavy tome clutched in one hand.

Sighing, he glanced up and locked eyes with you, his face paling visibly. Before he could react, you stormed over, grabbing his wrist so as to not let him escape you again.

"Yoongi, why did you text me? Why did you even ask Jungkook for my number in the first place?" You demanded, your voice barely more than a whisper but seething with fury. "Why did you ask me for nudes?"

He blinked at you, his expression a mixture of confusion and irritation. "Why are you even upset?" he countered, his voice low and measured. "You're the one who sent them."

"So? You shouldn't have asked for them in the first place." You hissed, your anger boiling over.

"You shouldn't have sent them." He retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Look, it doesn't even matter at this point just--"

"Keep your voice down," he interrupted, glancing nervously around the library.

"No! You need to hear this," you yelled, forgetting your surroundings as your emotions took control. "You had no right to ask for those pictures, and then to turn around and act like it's no big deal? It's disgusting!"

Annoyed by your yelling, Yoongi grabbed your arm with surprising force and pulled you through the maze of bookshelves.

"Yoongi, what are you--"

"Be quiet."

You struggled against him, but he didn't relent until the two of you stumbled into a cramped supply closet. Slamming the door shut behind him, he released you, his face a mask of frustration and something else you could fully recognize.

"Listen," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You didn't have to send those pictures if you didn't want to, and I mean...I'm sorry for asking for nudes but I won't lie," he leaned in close, his warm breath brushing against your cheek, "you looked pretty damn good in every single one."

And so, you stood there, back against the door, his words washing over you like a tidal wave. For a moment, you couldn't find your voice - he was right. You had sent those pictures. You were the one who had been so flattered by his attention that you had forgotten about boundaries and given in to his request with such reckless abandon. But that still didn't give him the right to use them as he pleased! You pushed past him and walked out of the closet, trying to compose yourself.

As you stepped out, the library came rushing back into view, filled with students hushed amidst their studies. You couldn't help but feel self-conscious as everyone's eyes turned towards you as if they knew what had just gone down in the supply closet. Your face burned under their scrutiny as you tried to make your way back to your seat without making eye contact with anyone.

But before you could take a step, a strong hand gripped your wrist once again and spun you around to face Yoongi. His eyes bored into yours with unwavering intensity, his jaw tightened as he spoke lowly; "Look... I know I messed up." He paused, stepping closer, his eyes boring into yours are he spoke, "but you sent them to me, Y/N, and I didn't force you. You could have stopped me at any time, but you didn't. And for what it's worth, I never meant to hurt you. I just thought...actually, you know what? It doesn't matter."

He let go of your wrist and turned away, walking towards the stacks of books on the shelves nearby as if nothing had happened. You watched him go with a mixture of emotions churning inside of you. He was right, of course. You did send those pictures willingly. It would be your fault if they got out.

How could you be so fucking stupid? Why did you think any of this would be a good idea?

You couldn't shake the feeling that something about his apology felt half-hearted, like he was only saying what he thought you wanted to hear. But still, a small part of you yearned for him to be sincere.

---

The twilight seeped through the gauzy curtains, casting a lavender hue over your room where you sat, knees drawn up to your chest on the window seat. Outside, the world was softening into dusk, but inside, a storm brewed within you. Your eyes were fixed vacantly on the snow that began to layer on the window pane, mirroring the turmoil in your heart.

"Yoongi," you murmured under your breath, the words tasting bitter. The memory of your encounter with him was like a splinter—sharp, intrusive, and impossible to ignore. You replayed your last conversation over and over, each iteration twisting the knife a little deeper.

What had you expected? For him to suddenly understand? To apologize?

"Focus on something else, anything else," you chided yourself, uncurling from your perch.

You moved towards your cluttered desk, where an array of distractions awaited: unread books, sketches half-done, a guitar that hadn't felt the warmth of your touch in days. Your fingers hovered over a novel, its spine still creased with promise. But even as you pulled it toward yourself, the printed words blurred, drowned out by the echo of Yoongi's voice.

"Of course," you scoffed, tossing the book aside with a soft thud against the hardwood floor. "Books are no refuge when your mind is this loud."

You walked over to the mirror, studying your reflection—as if searching for an answer in the contours of your own face. With a sigh, you reached up, freeing your hair from its ponytail. Strands fell around your shoulders like dark silk, a curtain to hide behind.

"Maybe I'll just go to sleep," you said to your mirrored self, "sleep it off and wake up with a fresh head."

But as you turned away from the mirror, your phone buzzed atop the nightstand, an invasive vibration that commanded attention. You hesitated, a small part of you hoping, dreading. Your hand shook slightly as you picked it up. The screen lit up, and there it was—a message from Yoongi,

It was simple. A casual, stark contrast to the chaos he'd stirred in you. Just three letters, yet they held the weight of a thousand unsaid words.

"Hey?" You repeated aloud, a laugh without humor escaping your lips. "After everything, all he can say is 'hey'?"

Your thumb hovered over the keyboard, indecision warring with the urge to respond. To lash out or to leave it be? But beneath the hurt and confusion, a sliver of hope glimmered—the kind that refused to be extinguished even by the fiercest storm.

"Is this supposed to be some kind of olive branch, Min Yoongi?" You whispered, the beginning of a response forming beneath your breath,

His reply came almost instantly,

As you weighed Yoongi's message, you mulled over the possibility that he might be sincere this time. He had apologized, and now he wanted to meet at a cafe. Was this his way to make amends? Or was it just another one of his schemes to get you to do something?

"Just do it, Y/N," You told yourself, "you never know what's going to happen."

With a resolute nod, you decided that now was as good a time as any.

Y/N stood in her cramped bedroom, her breath fogging the windowpane as she looked out at the snow-dusted street below. She was about to do something she'd been dreading for days – meet Yoongi at the cafe. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. With a resolute nod, you decided that now was as good a time as any.

"Right. Let's do this," she murmured to herself.

It was bitterly cold outside, but you didn't feel like making an effort to dress up for the occasion. Instead, you pulled on a cozy grey hoodie and a pair of comfortable black sweatpants. They were simple, but warm enough for the short walk to the cafe.

As you stepped outside, the chill hit you like a physical force. You shivered, burying your face in the soft fabric of your hoodie and pulling the drawstrings tight. The wind whipped around you, biting at your exposed cheeks and turning them pink. Despite the cold, you couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of the frost-covered trees and the crunch of ice beneath your boots.

Upon arriving at the cafe, your heart skipped a beat when you saw him through the window – Yoongi, sitting alone at a small table near the back, fingers tapping impatiently against his coffee cup.

You hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, even from this distance.

As you pushed open the door and made your way over to his table, you felt an unsettling warmth blossoming within her chest. It was strange, feeling drawn to someone who had caused so much turmoil in your life. But here you were, unable to look away from his dark eyes and strong jawline.

"Yoongi," you said softly, your voice wavering slightly as you took the seat across from him.

"Y/N," he replied, barely looking up from his coffee. But when he did, his gaze seemed to take you in with an intensity that made you shiver. There was a hunger in his eyes that you'd never seen before in anyone – lust, perhaps?

"Um, so," you stammered, struggling to regain your composure and focus on the task at hand. "What did you...want to talk about...?"

"Well..." he began, his voice low and smooth as he leaned back in his chair, never breaking eye contact.

Your mind raced with thoughts and emotions, trying to find the right words to express how you felt about everything. You knew you had to face him, and move forward. But with every second spent in Yoongi's presence, you found herself increasingly drawn to him, despite everything he'd done.

"Yoongi, I—" you started, but couldn't finish, swallowing hard as you struggled to compose herself.

"Go on," he urged, a slight smirk appearing on his lips as if he knew exactly what was going through your mind.

You hesitated, biting your lip nervously, but then steeled yourself. Your words tumbled out in a rush, "I-I don't know what you want from me, Yoongi. Are you really sorry, or is this just another game to you? Because I can't do this anymore, I can't keep feeling like this, like I'm being played."

Yoongi's smirk faded, and his eyes softened. He lowered his gaze for a moment before looking back up at you, his voice sincere when he spoke, "That's...actually why I asked you here tonight. I wanted to apologize for everything. Y/N...I-I'm so sorry. I never should have asked you for those nudes."

You avoided his eyeline, instead averting your gaze towards the floor, "Why...why did you ask me for them? It's not like you knew me before we even started texting and I--"

"Yes, I did, actually." He interrupted, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice, "I saw you at a party a few months ago a-and...Jungkook gave me your number. Don't ask me why he had it because honestly...I don't know. I wanted to talk to you but I-I just thought it would be better to text you."

You noticed the slight stutter in his voice and the way his fingers played with the edge of the table, betraying his nervousness.

Taking a deep breath, you took a moment before responding, "So you were talking to me all this time, knowing who I was?"

"Yes," he admitted, his shame evident in his eyes. "But it doesn't excuse how I acted, Y/N. I know that. I'm so sorry. If there's any way I can make it up to you, let me know. Please."

It was difficult for you to hear him say those words, but as he explained himself, something inside you began to crack. It wasn't forgiveness, but it was understanding, at least.

You looked at him, trying to decipher his words and find the truth behind them. "Why did you do it, Yoongi?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "I...I don't know. I guess I thought it would be a way to get closer to you, or at least have some kind of connection. But it was wrong, and I'm sorry."

Your heart ached as you stared into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in his words. You knew this wasn't the end of your struggles, but maybe it was the beginning of something different.

"Thank you for the apology. I'm sorry too, I never should have sent anything to begin with."

You bit your lip, trying to gather your thoughts, but you didn't have anything else to say, so you remained silent.

Yoongi looked down at the table, his dark hair falling into his eyes, "If it's okay with you..." He began, avoiding your gaze, "I-I want to get to know you better."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. Did you trust him? Could you let go of the past and move forward?

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke, "Okay, Yoongi. Let's start over. But we're not doing anything like that again."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a hint of relief in his eyes, "I understand. I won't push you, Y/N. I just...I'm so sorry."

"I-- it's fine, really."

And with that, you both sat in silence for a while, contemplating the new path that lay ahead of you. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but maybe it was worth a try.

---

It had been three months since you went to the café with Yoongi.

You found a new normal in your relationship, and although trust wasn't rebuilt overnight, you both were committed to fixing what had been broken.

The air between you and Yoongi had shifted. Instead of the tension and mistrust that had previously existed, there was now an underlying understanding and appreciation for each other's flaws and mistakes.

You appreciated how considerate Yoongi was, never pushing your boundaries or rushing things. Instead, he made an effort to listen intently, offering support and understanding as you opened up about your feelings and fears. It felt like the door to your heart was gradually creaking open, allowing the light of a blossoming bond to seep in.

One evening, you found yourself immersed in your studies at the library, the soft rustle of turning pages and hushed whispers creating a cocoon of tranquility around you.

Suddenly, your focus was interrupted by a gentle tap on your shoulder, causing your heart to skip a beat. You looked up to find Yoongi standing beside your table, his eyes crinkling as he offered his gummy smile that caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

"Hey," he said softly, like a lullaby whispered into the night. "I thought I might find you here."

"Yoongi!" You exclaimed, happiness bubbling up within your chest. "I wasn't expecting to see you tonight. What brings you to the library?"

"Call it intuition," he replied, his voice tinged with amusement. "I had a feeling you'd be here, studying late like always."

You chuckled, gaze drifting back to the stacks of books and papers spread out before you. "You know me too well," you murmured, feeling a twinge of embarrassment at your disorganized workspace.

"Indeed, I do," Yoongi agreed, his eyes lingering on your face. "But, I also know that you deserve a break. How about we head to my place and just relax for a bit?"

You hesitated, the thought of leaving your studies unfinished gnawing at you, but you couldn't deny the allure of spending time with Yoongi away from the pressures of academia.

You glanced back at him, his eyes filled with sincerity and warmth, and you made your decision, "Alright," you conceded with a smile. "Let me just pack up my things."

"Take your time," Yoongi replied, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from you. The simple action spoke volumes – he was in no hurry, willing to wait as long as it took for you to feel comfortable. It was moments like these that reminded you of how far the two of you have come in rebuilding trust, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the second chance you'd given him.

As the two of you walked out of the library together, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the snowfall had eased to a near halt as the two of you began your trek back to his apartment, leaving behind an untouched blanket of white in your wake.

The cold air stung your cheeks, but neither you nor Yoongi seemed to mind it much as you walked – the world felt hushed, almost magical.

"Is it always this beautiful?" you asked, your voice soft and breathy as you watched the last flakes fall from the sky.

"Sometimes," Yoongi replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I think it's just the right kind of weather for tonight."

Your steps fell in sync with each other, crunching softly against the snow beneath your feet. The streetlights cast warm, amber halos on the frosted ground, creating a comforting contrast against the winter chill.

"Tell me about your work," you suggested, curiosity piquing your interest. Yoongi had mentioned his desire to become a music producer during your conversations, but you wanted to learn more.

"Ah, well," he began, a modest smile gracing his lips. "I've been working on this new project lately – it's got a different vibe than what I usually do. But that's what makes it exciting."

"Sounds fascinating," you commented sincerely. "I can't wait to hear it when it's finished."

"Hopefully you'll like it," Yoongi replied, his eyes shining with gratitude at your enthusiasm.

As you approached his apartment building, you couldn't help but feel a slight surge of nerves. It was the first time you would be stepping into Yoongi's personal space, and there was an undeniable intimacy in that. You glanced over at him, wondering if he could sense your apprehension. However, his gaze remained fixed on the entrance, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

"Here we are," Yoongi announced as you walked into the warm, well-lit lobby. The sudden change in temperature made you shiver slightly, your body trying to adapt.

"Nice place," you commented, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Thanks," Yoongi replied, leading you toward the elevator. The ride up was quiet, the both of you lost in your own thoughts as you anticipated what might happen once the two of you were alone in his apartment.

When you finally entered Yoongi's space, you couldn't help but take it all in – the minimalist furniture, the impressive collection of vinyl records along one wall, and the cozy atmosphere that seemed to envelop the entire room. It felt like a sanctuary, a reflection of Yoongi himself.

"Make yourself at home," he offered kindly, gesturing toward the comfortable-looking couch.

"Thank you," you whispered, suddenly aware of just how intimate this moment was. You were standing in his apartment, seeing a side of him few people had ever been privy to. And as you took a seat on his couch, feeling the warmth of the cushions beneath you, you knew that you wanted to learn even more about the enigmatic man who had captured your interest.

"Would you like something to drink?" Yoongi asked, his voice soft yet inviting. His eyes, a rich dark chocolate color, held curiosity and a touch of shyness, reflecting his guarded nature.

"Sure, do you have any wine?" You replied.

You enjoyed how the warmth of the room seemed to embrace you, making you feel comfortable. It was a rare feeling for you, considering your own life and surroundings were often chaotic.

"Of course," Yoongi said with a subtle smile. He disappeared into the kitchen area, returning moments later holding two glasses filled with the familiar deep red liquid. He carefully handed one to you before taking a seat across from you on the couch.

"Thanks." You took a sip, savoring the smooth taste of the wine as it slid down your throat.

You noticed the way the moonlight that streamed through the windows caught the glass, creating a dazzling array of colors that danced along the edges.

"You're welcome." Yoongi raised his own glass and took a small sip. His gaze lingered on the window, seeming to find solace in the familiar sight.

"Your apartment is really lovely," You said earnestly, hoping to ease the initial tension between the both of you. "It has such a unique vibe."

"Thank you. I've put a lot of time and effort into making it my own little sanctuary," Yoongi admitted with a small smile. "I'm glad you like it."

As the two of you continued to chat, you both discovered shared interests and common ground – your love for music, your desire to create something meaningful, and the challenges you both faced in your pursuit of happiness.

With each revelation, the space between both of you seemed to shrink, and you found herself drawn to Yoongi's quiet intensity.

"Sometimes," Yoongi said, pausing to choose his words carefully, "it feels like life is a constant battle against time and expectations. It's hard to find moments like this, where you can just be yourself without any judgment."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a pang of empathy for the man sitting before you. "I know exactly what you mean. It's easy to get lost in the noise and lose sight of who you really are."

"Exactly." Yoongi's eyes met yours, and you're struck by the sincerity you see there. "But sometimes, it's in those quiet moments that we can truly find ourselves."

You couldn't help but be moved by the sincerity in Yoongi's words, and as the silence fell between you both, you found your gaze drifting towards the window again. The snow had stopped, leaving a blanket of white that seemed to silence the world outside.

"It's amazing how peaceful everything can be when it snows," you remarked, your voice barely above a whisper. "It makes you feel like anything is possible."

Yoongi nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "It's a reminder that sometimes, we need to slow down and appreciate the beauty of the world around us."

You smiled, silently agreeing before looking around the living room, taking more of it in, "I can't believe we've known each other for as long as we have but I've never been to your apartment until now."

"Same goes for me," Yoongi replied, a hint of amusement in his voice, "It's kind of funny to think about how we even became friends."

You scoffed, "It's funny now. But, I wouldn't have it any other way. I still have your contact name as the same thing it was when you first texted me, though."

Yoongi tilted his head in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"It's still just your phone number. For some reason...I don't know I just like it that way."

Yoongi chuckled lightly, shaking his head in amusement. "That's...quite possibly the most strange yet charming thing I've heard today." He took another sip of his wine, the warmth spreading through his body as he savored the taste.

"Is that so?"

He nodded, smiling.

"Well, maybe I should change it then." You pulled out your phone, navigating to your contacts. "What should I change it to?"

"Nah," he began, putting his wine glass down before scooting towards you, "let me do it," he said playfully, snatching the phone from your grasp. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he held your phone aloft, just out of your reach. "Besides, I want to pick my own emoji."

"Give it back!" You laughed, your cheeks flushed with excitement as your reached for your phone. Your heart raced at your playful banter, something you had grown to cherish during your time with Yoongi.

"Uh-uh, not until I'm done," he teased, his tongue peeking out between his lips in a cheeky grin. He leaned to one side, keeping the phone firmly out of your grasp.

Your determination grew, and you leaned over him, stretching your arm out as far as possible.

Your fingertips brushed against the edge of your phone, but Yoongi shifted his weight again, a triumphant smirk on his face.

"Yoongi, seriously!" You huffed, laughter bubbling up despite your feigned annoyance.

"Fine, fine," he relented, bringing the phone down just enough for you to snatch it back. In your eagerness, you accidentally ended up leaning too far forward straddling him in the process, your thighs pressing against his hips.

You both froze, suddenly aware of your intimate position.

Your eyes locked, and the room seemed to fall silent around the two of you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the proximity making you all too aware of the heat radiating from Yoongi's body.

You noticed the way his breath hitched in his throat, and the way his pupils dilated as the two of you continued to stare at each other.

A minute crawled by, every second feeling like an eternity as a thousand emotions swirled within you. Your mind raced with questions, doubts, and desires, and you could see the same turmoil reflected in Yoongi's eyes.

It was only when you felt a tremble in your hands that you realized what you were doing.

Face burning, you began moving your hips slightly in an attempt to get off of him, "Shit, Yoongi, I-I'm so sorry."

Although the movement you made caused a friction beneath you, and Yoongi froze, eyes widening, "W-wait, Y/N, stop...stop moving."

"What?" You stuttered, looking at him with wide eyes. "Why?"

His hands slid down to your waist in an attempt to hold you in place, "Just...stop." He managed to get out, his voice low and rough. "Don't move, please."

As you froze in place, it dawned on you that Yoongi's hands had now settled in a more intimate position on your hips, his fingers gently gripping your sides. You could feel his breath against your skin as his eyes locked onto yours, his expression filled with a mix of desire and fear.

"Y-Yoongi, I--" You moved again in another attempt to get off him, flustered.

"Fuck..." He groaned, allowing his head to fall back, and suddenly, you felt something underneath you.

A shiver ran down your spine as you realized what it was - his erection pressing right up against the heat of your core.

In fear and confusion, you pushed his hands off your waist, abruptly standing up before him, "I-I should go," you began, rubbing your hands against your sides in an attempt to wipe the sweat off of them, "I'll see you later?"

Yoongi watched as you quickly gathered your things and stood up from his couch, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to find the right words. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and he could feel the heat radiating from your body as your cheeks flushed red.

"Y/N, wait..." Yoongi's voice was hoarse, his eyes pleading as he reached for your hand. But you were already turning to leave the room, the weight of your words heavy on your tongue.

---

You avoided Yoongi for the next few days, his calls, his texts, everything.

You immersed yourself in your schoolwork, dedicating less time to visiting the library, as a means to escape the burden that this situation had imposed on you.

But as the days went by, you found yourself thinking about him more and more. About the heat of his touch, the desires you both had felt in that moment. You knew it had been an accident, but you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more between you and Yoongi.

---

"You need to talk to him, Y/N."

"I-I know," you began, rubbing your temples, "but I have no idea where to start, I mean I just walked out on him, he probably hates me."

You and your best friend, Mina, had been sitting together in your apartment while you sulked over Yoongi, trying to figure out how you would speak to him again. Mina had been your rock through thick and thin, and now she was determined to help you out of this mess.

"Just think about it, Y/N. You owe it to yourself to at least try and resolve this. You can't just let things remain the way they are."

You nodded, biting your lip in frustration. "You're right, Mina. I just...I don't know where to start."

Mina smiled, placing her hand on your shoulder. "Well, you could start by sending him a message. You know, just a simple olive branch to let him know you're willing to talk."

"But...I walked out on him. I can't just text him after all that," you threw your face into your hands, "I feel so bad."

"Look Y/N," Mina began, "I know you feel bad but if you don't think that a text or a call is the right thing to do, then...I don't know what to say."

You scoffed, "Wow, thanks, that really puts things into perspective."

Mina laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. "Alright, alright. But seriously, you need to figure out what you want to do, Y/N. It's been a few days, and if you don't make a move, you could lose him all together."

"I know, I know, you're right."

"Of course I am." Mina got up from where she was sitting, a soft smile on her face, "I have to go, but keep me updated."

"I will."

---

You lay restless in your bed, moonlight casting silver shadows on the walls. The clock's red digits flickered to 12:00 A.M., taunting you with each passing second. Sleep remained elusive, for Yoongi's face flickered behind your closed eyes, his laughter echoing in your ears.

You couldn't shake the feeling that their misunderstanding had driven a wedge between them.

Why did you have to fuck everything up?

"Damn it," you muttered under your breath, tossing and turning, your tangled sheets a testament to your inner turmoil.

You clenched your jaw, willing yourself to find a solution to mend your fractured friendship with Yoongi. Desperation bubbled up within you until it burst like a geyser, propelling you out of bed.

"Fuck this," you hissed, flinging the covers off your body. With a newfound determination, you slipped into sweatpants and a hoodie, the fabric comforting against your skin.

You rummaged through the darkness, fingers closing around the familiar leather of your coat.

Your heart pounded like a drum as you prepared to step out into the cold night air, fueled by the need to speak with Yoongi and set things right.

You made your way through the hallway, and out the door of your apartment, each step setting a path towards your journey outside.

The cold winter night had wrapped its icy fingers around the city, but your determination burned like a fire inside your chest.

As you walked towards Yoongi's apartment, your breath condensed into fleeting clouds that disappeared as quickly as they were born.

You glanced around, taking in the peaceful serenity of the snow-covered streets, the faint glow of the streetlights casting long shadows.

"Just talk to him, Y/N," you muttered under your breath, your words barely audible over the sound of your boots crunching on the snow beneath your feet.

When you finally arrived at the building, you rushed through the lobby without so much as a glance at the receptionist who looked up from her desk, startled by your sudden entrance.

The receptionist called after you, "Wait! Ma'am!" but you were already pressing the elevator button with impatience, your thoughts consumed by the urgency to reach Yoongi and set things straight.

"Out of order?" you read aloud, voice trembling with frustration. The sign taped to the elevator door mocked you, leaving you with no choice but to turn to the stairwell.

You hesitated for a moment, staring up at the seemingly endless flights of stairs. Yoongi lived on the highest floor, and the thought of climbing all the way up there was daunting. But the fire inside you continued to rage, and you knew there was no turning back now.

"Alright then," you whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath before dashing up the stairs, utterly determined.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you hurried up flight after flight, ignoring the burning sensation in your legs. Each step brought you closer to Yoongi, closer to the confrontation you knew the both of you desperately needed.

Finally, gasping for breath, you reached the top and stood outside Yoongi's door. You raised your fist and banged on it forcefully, your voice raised in desperation, "Yoongi, I need to talk to you,"

Silence. You could feel the heaviness of it pressing down on you, but you refused to let it deter you.

"Yoongi! Open the door, please I know you're in there," you spoke again, louder this time.

The door finally swung open, revealing Yoongi's tired and weary face. As your eyes met, you saw a sadness in his that you had never seen before, and it threatened to extinguish the fire inside you.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely audible, "what are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?"

With a sigh, he lowered his head, but he stepped aside from the doorframe, creating room for you to enter.

"What do you want?" He mumbled, still avoiding your gaze.

The weight of his question was heavy, but you didn't waver. You stepped into his apartment, feeling the warmth of the air against your skin.

"I came here to say that I'm sorry," you began, your voice barely audible, "I shouldn't have left like that. I was scared, and I didn't know how to handle things. I was wrong to run away, and I want you to know that I'm here now."

Yoongi remained silent, staring at his hands as if they were foreign to him.

You leaned towards him, grasping his bicep in your hand.

He flinched at the sudden touch, but didn't shy away.

"Please, look at me, Yoongi," you whispered, your eyes pleading with him to understand.

Your fingers wrap tightly around his arm, and you look up into his eyes, attempting to convey the sincerity of your words.

"Please, I-I just..."

Your let your hand fall back your side, trembling slightly, as your face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and regret.

You stumbled over her words, speaking at a rapid pace, desperate to communicate the weight of her remorse.

"Look, I know I messed up, okay? I didn't mean to just...run out on you like that. It was so stupid and thoughtless and, god, I'm so sorry, I really am."

He opened his mouth to say something, "Y/N--" but you cut him off, your voice rising in pitch as your anxiety grew.

"I've been thinking about it nonstop, and I hate myself for doing that to you and then just completely avoiding you afterwards. I was scared, and I panicked, and I didn't want to face what was happening between us."

"Y/N--" Again, he tried to interrupt, but you continued your rambling, feeling a knot tighten in your chest as tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

"Every time I think about how I left you like that I feel terrible. I can't stand the thought that I hurt you like that. I never wanted to be the type of person who runs away when things like that happen, but that's exactly what I did."

Your voice faltered, and you swallowed hard, trying to regain your composure.

Still, you refused to let him get a word in, terrified that if he spoke, it would confirm your worst fears – that you had irreparably damaged you friendship with him.

"Since then, I've been replaying that night in my head over and over again, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I should have stayed. We should have talked it out like adults. But instead, I behaved like a coward, and now I'm afraid I've lost you for good."

At last, you paused for breath, your chest heaving as you stared at him with wide, pleading eyes.

He took a step closer, his expression unreadable, and she braced yourself for the impact of his words – whatever they may be.

Just as you were about the reply, Yoongi closed the distance between the two of you, his lips gently touching yours in a tender, slow kiss.

Yoongi's lips were soft as he pulled back, a small smile on his face as he looked at you, his fingers tangling in your hair. He tugged gently, causing you to lean forward, his breath hot against your lips as he spoke. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

You smiled and leaned in, your noses brushing against each other as the two of you breathed each other in deeply.

The air was filled with the scent of his cologne and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke mixing with the warmth of his body. "Oh really? How long have you wanted to?" you whispered, heart racing as he moved closer, resting his forehead against yours. His warmth seeped into you, making you shiver.

Slowly, Yoongi's lips brushed against yours teasingly before pressing firmly, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer. Your kiss was soft and gentle at first, a slow exploration of each other's mouths, tasting and teasing. The feeling of his lips against yours sent shivers down your spine, a low moan escaping your throat as you parted your lips slightly, inviting him in more. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you eagerly opened up for him, welcoming him in.

The taste of him was addictive, like fine wine and coffee, with a hint of sweetness that lingered on your tongue long after the kiss.

You ran your fingers up his neck and threaded your fingers through his messy hair.

You pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, your body melting into his as they molded together. Yoongi groaned into the kiss, his other hand finding its way to your waist and pulling you even tighter against him.

Your tongues danced together, twirling and dueling playfully, your mouths opening wider to allow for more exploration. His kiss was demanding now, and you gave in willingly, your body arching into him as he took control.

You kissed him back just as passionately, your tongue tangling with his, breaths heavy and labored. He gripped your hips tighter, grinding against you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her core.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he continued to kiss you deeply, your body trembling with anticipation.

You could feel his heart racing against your chest, the sound of his rapid breaths mingling with your own.

The heat between the two of you grew, along with your desire, and you felt yourself opening up to him more than ever before.

"Jump." He growled, his lips still brushing against yours.

With a small whimper, you obeyed, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer as he stepped forward, nearly pinning you against the wall.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses along the way, making you shiver.

Your head fell back as he bit lightly on the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking gently. His hot breath fanned across your skin, raising goosebumps along your arms.

You sighed in contentment as Yoongi's warmth continued to envelop you, your heart racing in anticipation. In the nights you spent alone in your room, you had replayed this moment countless times in your head, imagining how it would feel to be in his arms, to feel the softness of his lips against yours. But the reality was far more intense than you ever could have imagined. Every touch sent shivers down your spine, every groan vibrating against your skin made you tremble with desire.

With a sudden surge of impatience, Yoongi dropped you to your feet, roughly ripping off his shirt, his muscles rippling beneath his skin in the process, revealing a chiseled torso that seemed to glow in the dim light.

Your breath hitched at the sight of him bare before you, his shoulders broad and strong, his arms corded with strength. You traced one of them with your fingertips, marveling at the definition of his biceps.

His abs were like etched stone, each dip and curve perfectly defined. As you trailed your fingers lower, you could feel his heart racing under your touch. He groaned softly, a deep rumble that vibrated through your body. You traced the trail of hair that led from his navel to his jeans, which were already unbuttoned and half-unzipped. You paused for a moment, looking up at him through hooded eyes. He growled low in his throat, a mix of irritation and desire, and you smiled before sliding your fingers inside his boxers to touch his hot skin.

He was warm and hard, pulsing beneath your fingertips. You wrapped your hand around him, feeling the heat radiate off him like an open flame. He gasped softly as you began to stroke him, slowly at first, then faster when he closed his eyes and arched into your touch. The look of pure bliss on his face was enough to make your heart race. In response, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his neck, sucking softly on his flesh. His hands fisted in your hair, holding you close.

"F-fuck, Y/N...w-wait," he grabbed your wrist, halting your actions before burying his face into your neck.

Letting go of you, he sighed allowing his hands to roam down your back, over your hips, until he reached the hem of your hoodie. He pulled it up slowly, revealing your red lace bra beneath.

You gasped at the sudden change in temperature before he lowered his head to suck on your neck, nipping at your skin lightly.

Your heart raced as he undid the clasp, the cool air caressing your warm skin. The bra fell to the floor, leaving your chest bare for his view.

He merely glanced for a moment before drawing his eyes back up to yours, "You're so beautiful."

He trailed his fingers down your side, over the curve of your breast, and cupped it gently in his hand.

"Everything about you...I don't think I'll ever get enough."

Yoongi's breath hitched as you arched into his touch, your nipple hardening under his palm. His thumb circled around the bud, rolling it between his fingers. He dipped his head and took your other nipple into his mouth, sucking softly as you moaned.

The feeling of his lips on your skin sent shivers down your spine, goosebumps rising on your arms. You felt hot and cold all at once, your knees weak.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from his face as he looked up at you, his eyes hooded with lust.

Your gaze dropped to his hand, still massaging your breast even as he slipped it lower.

He used his free hand to hook his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulled them down slowly, his lips never leaving your skin.

You were left in just your underwear now, your heartbeat pounding against your ribcage.

He swallowed your moan as he finally pulled away, his hand sliding up your thigh. He cupped you through your lacy underwear, gasping at the heat that pooled between your legs.

His fingers danced over your drenched folds, teasing your clit as he peeled your panties down to your ankles. You stepped out of them, your knees shaking ever so slightly. It was like being in a trance, every nerve ending alive and screaming for him.

He slipped his fingers out of your dripping center, holding them up to the light to emphasize the shine of your slick that glistened coated them.

"Taste yourself." He whispered,his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You obeyed, closing your eyes as you leaned forward to taste yourself on his fingers. The salty-sweet flavor was intoxicating, and you swirled your tongue around his digits, feeling him watching your every move.

He groaned, his eyes locked on your mouth, as you slowly licked his fingers clean. The air was thick with anticipation as he continued to watch you.

Grinning, he suddenly dropped down onto his knees before you, kneading his fingers into the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. His eyes never left your face as he positioned himself between your legs.

You could feel his breath on your sensitive skin, the heat of his body radiating towards you as he leaned in closer. His eyes locked with yours, his gaze filled with hunger and desire. You felt your body tremble in anticipation, your breath hitched as you waited for what would come next.

"Yoongi what are you-- oh, fuck!"

The first touch of his tongue made you cry out, your hips jerking forward. It was barely a lick, but it sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. He took his time, lapping at your folds, teasing and tasting, his fingers lightly brushing against your clit with each pass of his tongue. You moaned, throwing your head back and giving in to the pleasure.

"Yoongi..." you breathed, your voice hoarse. His name was a plea and a command all in one. He chuckled softly, the vibration sending waves of delight through you. With one hand still teasing your entrance, he used the other to spread your folds, exposing you to his hungry gaze. And then he dove in, tongue circling your entrance, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves within. Your walls clenched around his tongue, begging for more.

"Please," you whimpered, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He hummed in agreement, pushing deeper, his nose brushing against your entrance as he lapped at it. You squirmed underneath him, your hips bucking against his face as you tried to get closer.

The taste of you, sweet and tangy and salty, filled his mouth. He lapped at you greedily, groaning around your folds as he tried to get as much of you as he could. Your moans and gasps echoed in the room, mingling with lewd sounds Yoongi was making as he lapped at your core.

With one hand still gripping his hair, you arched your back and cried out as he continued to lick and suck on your sensitive spots. Your hips rocked wildly, grinding against his face as he drove you closer and closer to orgasm.

His growls and moans were music to your ears, fueling your desire and making your heart race. You could feel the heat building deep within you, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you reached your peak.

Yoongi is relentless, his tongue never slowing down as he continued to pleasure you. You threw your head back, your eyes screwed shut as you prepared for the moment of pure bliss.

"Yoongi, fuck I-I'm so close." you whimpered, begging for release from the pleasure building inside of you.

He chuckled slightly against your folds, loving the way you squirmed beneath him. With one hand, he spread your legs wider, giving himself better access. His mouth closed around your clit as he lapped up every drop of your arousal.

As he worked you up into a frenzy, you begged him not to stop, pleading for release, your hips bucking wildly against his mouth.

Yoongi loved the raw hunger in your voice, the way you trembled and squirmed under his expert ministrations.

His talented tongue was working wonders on you, and you began to feel familiar knot begin to build in the pit of your stomach.

You were close, so close.

"Yoongi, I-I'm gonna-- shit!"

And when you came, it was everything he'd hoped for—a scream torn from your throat as you shook and spasmed beneath him, your wet heat coating his face. Your walls clenched around his fingers as he continued to feast on your cunt, drinking in every last drop of your sweet nectar.

Finally satiated, he lifted his head, dragging his tongue over her swollen nub lazily and you flinched from over stimulation before making his way back up to meet your eyes, holding you close to keep you from falling off balance, "You taste so good."

You smiled, cupping his cheeks in your hands, "Take me to your bedroom."

Nodding, he gently lifted you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, as he carried you towards the bedroom. His eyes remained locked with yours, brimming with longing and urgency. The sensation of your body against his, the touch of your velvety skin, and the warmth of your breath on his neck overwhelmed him, stirring a powerful desire within him.

"I want you so bad," he whispered, his voice ragged.

You rested your head on his shoulder as he carried you, "I want you too," you breathed, your heart pounding against his chest in time with his own, "more than anything."

Yoongi stumbles through the hallway, holding onto you firmly but not too tightly, his steps becoming more and more certain as he gets closer to his bedroom. He kicks the door open with his foot, almost losing his balance but managing to regain it just in time.

The room is dimly lit, with only a small desk lamp on, casting shadows across the walls and the floor. He slowly lowers himself onto the bed, cradling you in his arms as you lay your head on his chest.

To him, you hair smells like vanilla and you feel soft against his rough skin. His heart beats fast in anticipation as he looks down at you, taking in the way your eyes flutter closed and your breathing deepens as you lean into him. "Yoongi..." you whisper before trailing off, your voice barely audible even to herself.

With a sudden burst of energy, he pulls you closer, rolling so that you're on top of him and he's beneath you, your exposed cunt pressing roughly against his clothed cock.

Your hips grind together, and he groans at the feeling.

His hands trail up your sides, tracing the outline of your ribs before cupping your breasts. You gasp, your nipples hardening beneath his touch. He dips his head to capture one in his mouth, sucking gently as he groans against your skin. It tastes sweet and salty and intoxicating.

You look at him, a wry smile etched into your features as you press a chaste kiss to his lips, "Let me make you feel good,"

You slide off his waste slowly before kissing your way down his chest, tracing your fingers along his abs, along the thin trail of hair that leads from his lower abdomen to the waistband of his pants before finally reaching for the obvious tenting in his pants, palming him through his jeans.

He groans slightly, his breath hitched as your fingers brush against the evidence of his arousal. You smile without looking up, knowing the effect you're having on him.

Without any further hesitation, you unbuckled the belt of Yoongi's jeans and slid them down, his length straining painfully against his boxers.

With a smirk, you teased Yoongi by running your fingers over his underwear-clad dick through the fabric, feeling it twitch and throb.

Yoongi let out a low groan as he felt your soft hands stroking him through his boxers.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled his cock out, freeing it from its confines. Your eyes widened as you looked down at the jutting length of his dick in your hands. It was thick and veiny, standing tall against your palms.

You ran your thumb over the head, gathering the precum that had formed there before leaning down and wrapping your mouth around the tip, forcing a strained moan out of Yoongi as he quickly threaded his fingers through your hair.

"H-holy shit, Y/N, that feels so-- fuck."

The taste of Yoongi instantly filled your senses as you explored him with your tongue, circling the head and teasing his slit. The hand on your head gently began guiding you as you started to take more of him into your mouth.

Each bob of your head made a wet, sloppy noise as you sucked him off, taking more and more of him each time.

You could taste the pre-cum on the tip, and you couldn't wait to swallow it all down. As your mouth sank further down onto his cock, you let your lips brush against Yoongi's shaft and listened to the slapping noise as your wet mouth engulfed him.

You could feel the vein pulsing on top, and the smell of his arousal filled your nostrils.

You looked up at him, eyes meeting Yoongi's, and he thought about how damn attractive you looked with your cheeks hollowed out and lips red from around his dick.

With a soft moan, you leaned forward and swallowed him down, taking him to the base of his throat. You slowly started moving up and down, taking him in and out of your mouth, licking and sucking at the same time.

You could feel his hands gripping into your scalp, holding him tightly as you deepthroated him. The room fell silent, only the sounds of your tongue lapping at his cock and the wet, sucking noises could be heard.

Before you could take him deeper and swallow around him again, he grabbed your hair, roughly pulling you off of his dick.

You looked at him, confused, waiting for him to speak his mind.

"Not yet," he panted, his eyes wild and focused on your lips. "I need to be inside you."

He stood up, and you could see the strain in his muscles as he struggled to control himself.

"What are you waiting for, Yoongi?" you teased, your eyes never leaving his.

He let out a shaky breath, and you could see the hunger in his eyes. With trembling hands, he leaned down, fully removing his jeans.

Yoongi's breath hitched in his throat as he took a step closer to you, positioning himself between your legs.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he bent down, his eyes locked onto your own, filled with lust.

Your heart raced as he gently pulled your hips off the bed, lifting you up and guiding you towards the edge.

His hands trembled slightly as he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock teasing your wetness as he slowly began to press inside you.

You gasped as he entered you, feeling him stretch you open.

His eyes locked onto yours, his breath hitched as you clenched around him, pulling him in deeper.

"Fuck, Y/N," he whispered, his voice ragged with desire.

Slowly, he began to move, his hips rocking gently against yours as he thrust inside you. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping tightly as your eyes met his, lost in the intensity of the moment.

With each thrust, you both let out soft moans, the sounds mingling with the wet slap of skin against skin. It felt like a million different sensations all at once - the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the friction of his dick sliding in and out of you, the pulsing veins of his cock, and the way his lips brushed against yours as he kissed you.

Your hips began to meet his thrusts, rising up to meet him as he fucked you, his eyes never leaving yours. It was as if he was searching for something in the depths of your soul, and you were right there with him, searching for the same thing.

"Y-Yoongi, please," You whimpered, silently begging him to move faster.

Suddenly, as if a light switch went off he gritted his teeth and growled, beginning to thrust roughly into you, filling you with each and every inch of his length.

You moaned loudly beneath him, nails digging into his back as he took you like he owned you, his hips slapping against yours in a primal rhythm that echoed in the small room.

“F-fuck, Yoongi!” You mewl, arching your back.

His breathing was ragged as he looked down at you, his gaze dark and intense. “That’s right baby girl, take my cock. Take it all.” He pulled out slightly before slamming back in, feeling yours walls clench around him, loving the sensation.

He could feel the intensity building inside of him, the need to release slowly beginning to build inside of him.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his voice rough and demanding. "You feel so good." He slid one of his hands between your bodies, teasing your clit as he continued to pound into you.

"O-oh my god, Yoongi, I-I'm so close..."

He loved hearing you moan his name. It fueled his desire, made him lose control even more.

He grabbed your hair with his free hand and pulled your head back, exposing your neck to him, leaving a trail of kisses and bites down your shoulder and collarbone as you moved together.

"Yoongi, please," you pleaded, your voice quivering.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go deeper. The way he touched you, possessed you, owned you...it was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

His rough hands on your skin made you shiver, and you could feel the heat between the two of you growing more intense with every passing second.

His hips snapped forward, his cock hitting your G-spot just right, and you cried out, your body shaking. "Yes," you moaned, your whole body tingling. "Right there. Oh fuck, right there!" You arched your back, meeting his movements, your nails digging into his skin as you felt a familiar coil began form inside of you.

"F-fuck, Yoongi, I'm so close, please!"

"Yeah? You gonna cum all over my cock, princess?"

You could no longer form any words, simply responding with a strained moan.

"Beg for it."

Your eyes locked with his, pleading for the release you both craved. "Please," you whimpered, your voice barely audible. "I need you to make me cum, Yoongi, Please!"

Yoongi's face was a mix of pleasure and dominance as he watched you lose control. He thrust faster, harder, swallowing your moans among his own as they filled the room.

"Good girl," he growled, his eyes locked onto yours.

At the sound of those words, something within you snapped. You wanted him more than you had ever wanted anything in your life.

The air was thick with the scent of sex and desire as you both surrendered to the intensity of the moment.

You suddenly felt the pressure building, the heat between you two intensifying. Your body began to shake uncontrollably as you felt the orgasm you had been craving for so long finally taking over.

"Oh fuck, Yoongi, I'm-- shit!" you screamed, your voice echoing through the room.

Yoongi watched, his eyes filled with satisfaction, as you exploded around his cock. Your nails dug deeper into his skin, and he felt you tighten around him like a vice.

Feeling your walls clenching around his cock, it sent him over the edge as well. He moaned your name as he came inside you, his body shaking violently as he emptied himself inside you.

Your bodies kept moving, pulsing together as the wave of orgasm continued to wash over you both.

As the intensity subsides, Yoongi's weakened legs give way and he collapses against you, his chest pressed against yours, both of you breathless and covered in perspiration, utterly spent.

Gradually, as your breathing steadies, you attempt to shift and free yourself from underneath him. However, Yoongi swiftly wraps an arm around your waist, refusing to let you go, holding you close against him as he turns you both so that you're facing each other on your sides.

Yoongi's eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of lust, love, and something deeper - a connection that went beyond the physical. His fingers gently traced the curves of your face, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

You could feel the heat and energy from his body pulsating through you, and the aftershocks of your orgasm still reverberating within you. The intensity of the moment had left you both breathless, and yet there was a sense of peace that enveloped you as you lay there, entwined with one another.

Without saying a word, Yoongi tenderly lifted your chin, his eyes locking onto yours, and he spoke into the silence, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Yoongi."

[anantaru]

DAY 26 — DEGRADATION

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — jing yuan, luocha

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, degradation, very mean, very rough as well, slight power imbalance

𖧡 — JING YUAN

"i can't believe you let yourself get fucked like that,"

jing yuan utters down on you, "yet you feel so disgustingly good," and his soulless eyes that look anything else but friendly, are pin pointed on your every reactions— although the moment that you clench around his length due to his words setting a literal fire on your wet sex, he holds back any shameful sounds for a good minute, yet his uneven breathing was giving it away, the general was enjoying this. 

you finally flutter your lashes up to look up at him, your expression drenched in a haze with his own remaining flat and distant— and a slight scare claws at your gut when jing yuan curls his palms under your knees to place them on top of his shoulders before looming his complete weight forward, on the brink of splitting you in half.

it stung a little, yes, but at least he allowed to you to take a good, deep breather before he continued— you do have to admit to yourself that it was rare for jing yuan to treat you like a human, or without any belittling undertones at that.

situations like these in particular had become a comfortably familiar norm of your usual reunions— it would always start with jing yuan calling you to his bedroom, next commanding you to remove your garments for him before he'd let you lay down on his bed, with no words said out loud, but you felt the connection in the pit of your stomach, a warm, coming-to-life tingle that couldn't be a made up or remain an imagination.

despite the fact that he fucked you senselessly, once enticed in your hot cunt he'd never stop until he hasn't filled you up with his seed at least three times in a row, and you welcome him, dearly, his fingers holding over the curve of your hips as you grind yourself into his movements, the repeated clench of your walls around his cock making him twitch violently through your ringing sensitivity.

jing yuan hung his head low and let out a heavy sigh before resting it against your forehead, rewarding you with a small smile, which was new to you but you didn't mind— right now, your body was under a lot of overloaded pleasure and a comforting flood of a hot sensation crawled up your entire body, tears and drool coveting your entire face.

"at least— ugh, you're useful for this," jing yuan mutters a curse before he fucked you harder, never releasing his cock from your tight confines until you're gritting your teeth together, forced to being pushed back against the wet mattress with both of his hands clasping around the headboard and keeping you how he wanted you to, pounding into you with increasingly harder thrusts that you're screaming at the top of your lungs, your swollen pussy feeling like on fire every time you met his cock bulging inside your cunt.

𖧡 — LUOCHA

"don't you dare waste my time," a crumbling moan flutters from your parted lips as luocha first moves his hips into you— and the moment you feel him plummet into you, you're so far gone, he didn't even try properly and you're at his mercy, as always, showing the painful truth of the situation.

"all you can think about is this, yeah?" he spat and he could only imagine how hurt you felt by his words as you frantically ache for him to fuck you already, "—how revolting,"

luocha wasn't necessarily mean to you, although he wasn't nice either. sure, he knew his way around your body and how to make you scream his name just when he felt like it, but there wasn't an inch of tenderness nor passion, it was almost like a business proposal— you show up, undress yourself and fuck him. while you do not mind and consented to this kind of relationship, you also wouldn't challenge him on changing his ways with you, with the power he supposedly held being wildly frightening to outside spectators.

even though you were burning up from being caged under a much larger person, your fear of being unable to breathe steadily was cut off by the feeling of luocha biting down on your lower lip and nibbling on the flesh as he continued thrusting into the almost suffocating heat inside of your trembling frame. the man growls in an equal amount of pain and pleasure when he felt your blunt nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders and paint him with red marks that manifested all over the scratched open skin.

his thrusts, keeping them fast and shallow, while luocha's eyes, were distant and barely looking at you— but he does enjoy it, you were a firm believer in that, there was no way he'd still be this hard and aching if he wouldn't like you at least a little bit, obviously ignoring all the times where he had been calling you filthy words out loud.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[lilbitdepressed27]

Vada Cavell/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Death

WC: 1.7k

Author's note: sorry for any mistakes.

*This will be connected to another fic*

~

"Ugh I don't want to go to school tomorrow." Vada complained as she leaned into your warm embrace.

You chuckled had held her close. The week was almost over. And you had the perfect date set up for Friday after school. It was a simple date but one you knew Vada would like. A little date in your room with her favorite snacks, favorite movies, you wanted to do something to help her relax.

"Just two more days and it's the weekend. Speaking of the weekend, are you free on Saturday?" You also wanted to go down to the lake, a nice little secluded area from everyone else. It was a spot only a few knew about, so most times it was empty. It was also a spot you and Vada always went to.

"For you, always. What do you have planned?" Vada had never been so, happy. She had for the longest time had a crush on you. She had been in love with you before she even knew what love was. Having you all to herself was something she absolutely loved. She remembers clearly the day you both confessed your feelings to each other. It had been right after freshman year. The moments she's shared with you or moments she's held close to her heart.

"Mmh wanna go swimming with me?"

"It's a date."

*

The following day you were at school early. You had an early morning soccer meeting, so Vada would be arriving later. Based off how she hasn't responded to your texts you knew she would be late. You had her little sisters number as well she always sent you either funny TikTok videos or sometimes even hilarious pictures of Vada.

She had texted you that Vada had been falling asleep on the toilet. Which you didn't doubt for a second cause she's done that before at your house.

With a shake of your head but fond smile on your face, you put your phone away focusing back on to the coach.

*

You only had a few minutes to spare before your first period started when you felt the familiar weight on your back. The familiar favorite sound of Vada's laugh filling your ears. Her lips on your cheek as her arms wrapped around your neck from behind.

"Hi baby. We brought you a Caramel frappe with extra caramel." Vada had the brightest smile on her face once she got off your back handing you the drink in her hand, after getting off your back. Only giving it to you when you leaned down to peck her lips. She happily returned the kiss.

"Thanks babe." Taking a sip of the drink as you wrapped your arm around her shoulder. Pulling her closer and walking, bit slow towards her class. Your first period was a free period. So you usually relaxed in the library or just roamed the halls for a bit.

Vada absolutely adored how loving and touchy you were. How you always wanted to have her close. It something that she also loved doing, only with you of course. There was just something about how you always treated her. The way you always went out of your way to, make her feel special. Loving you had come so easy.

The bell signaling the five minute warning before class started was heard. "I'll see you after, yeah?" Vada stopped in front of her class looking up at you. Your gentle smile still caused the butterflies in her stomach to go absolutely wild.

"Of course. I'll be right here waiting. I love you."

"Aww! Look at the love birds!"

You groaned in annoyance at the interruption that was Nick, Vada's best friend. Vada leaned into your embrace one more time, giving you a little kiss before going into her class. "I'll see you later."

You turned your glare to Nick whose smirk faded. "Oh come on Y/n I was just kidd-" You didn't let him respond before you chased after him.

*

Your free period was dragging on as pure usual. Your headphones on as you listened to music while you decided to use this time to clean out your locker. The halls were empty, quiet, your music wasn't that loud so when you heard the loud gunshots. You were startled. Fear consuming you as the screams and shots continued to shoot out.

"Don't move."

You didn't have time to escape. To even try to hide from the shooter barely getting a few steps in when you heard that familiar voice.

"Turn around."

There stood Matt Corgan. He was in your math, history and English class. You didn't know him. Not personally. You never really spoke to him either.

You were scared, the gun aiming right at you, his eyes emotionless.

"I'll give you ten seconds to run. You were nice to me. But not nice enough. So ten, nine, eight-"

You bolted, running as fast as you could. Fear, adrenaline pumping through your veins but it was too late. You felt the pain before you actually heard the shots. You don't remember screaming. Or falling to the ground. You don't remember how many times you got shot but you knew it was more than once.

Maybe it was adrenaline, or maybe it was the fear, but you didn't feel any pain, the pain of being shot passed before you could really register the pain. The attempt to crawl towards the closest door, hoping it'd open. Your ears were ringing, as you pushed open the door, the door was a lot heavier than you remembered.

It was now you did register the room you were in. The bathroom. Faintly hearing the guns shots heading away from where you were at. It was then you let yourself cry. The pain washing over you like a tsunami. You tried to stop the bleeding but it had been no use. Weakly taking out your phone. Fear gripping your heart as you felt yourself growing weaker and weaker.

You wanted to call your mom. You wanted your mom. You wanted to hear voice. You wanted to be in her arms. Assuring you that everything would be okay.

Only then did you see a bullet lodged in your phone.

The cry that left your lips was louder than you had thought it would.

"—okay?"

The pain was unbearable now, adrenaline leaving your body just as fast as the blood was from your wounds.

"Are you okay?"

Someone else was in the bathroom, not that you noticed. Too stuck in your head, the room was getting brighter than before. Or maybe it was getting darker. You weren't sure. You were going to die alone. You were going to die.

You were dying.

"I'm—I'm scared."

~

Vada had tried texting you. Praying that you were hiding in the little room in the back of the library. You usually spent your free period there. But when you didn't answer her texts, she grew worried. Trying just about everything to reach you. She knew your phone was on silent. It always was at school. You didn't have the vibration on. So it could be you didn't see her texts.

But she knew deep in her heart that you would have texted her as well. To check in with her. To make sure she was okay.

Yet you didn't.

The gun shots rang louder, closer. Squeezing her eyes shut as her hands covered her mouth. To prevent the cry to escape. When the gun shots stopped. She felt herself, Mia and Quinton freeze in fear when the door was pushed open.

It was quiet only for few seconds when they heard a silent painful cry. They were all quiet. Afraid to say anything, until it was Quinton spoke up.

"Are you okay?"

Quinton repeated the question.

No one responded. Only silent cries continued. Until the person spoke.

Her eyes widening as her ears registered who that voice belonged to. The dreadful feeling as her legs moved before anything. Moving quickly to get to that voice. Her body froze when she saw who was laying on the floor. Pale, eyes half open. Clothes covered in blood.

Your blood.

"No no no." Knees sliding as dropped to you. She's hovering over your chest before pressing down on your wound. There was too many. "Come on Y/n. I'm here baby. Open your eyes." Her voice cracking, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"V—Vada?" You were sure you were going to die alone. Seeing the beautiful brunette.

Your pained smile made her cry, putting more pressure on your wounds. Mia and Quinton were quick to help. Trying their best to put pressure on other wounds.

"I'm right here baby. Just keep your eyes on me okay?"

She couldn't lose you, not like this. You were getting paler, eyes growing heavy by the way your blinks got longer.

"Please-Please don't leave me."

The wet cough echoed in the restroom. Vada eyes followed the blood trickle down the side of your mouth. The acceptance in your eyes.

"I'm...I'm going to...have to get a..a rain check on our...date." Your voice was soft wet from the blood in your mouth. You were no longer in pain. The pain had become numbing. You couldn't feel your toes anymore. You had a now loose grip on Vada's hand.

"No-No you'll be okay. Come on. Please. Y/n please. I'm begging you just hold on. Stay with me." She pulled you closer. Holding your body close to her. Not caring that your blood was getting on her clothes.

"Please—Please tell tell my mom—tell her I love her. I—I love yo—"

The feeling of your breath hitching and stopping. The way she felt the moment you slipped away from her. The feeling of you no longer breathing as you tried to utter your last words. The way your grip on her hand fell limp. The cry of pure loss and agony as she pulled your body closer.

You were gone.

You had promised her forever.

:(

[ghoulsbounty]

OMG IM SO EXCITED TO FIND SOMEONE WHO’LL WRITE BOYD CROWDER.

Can I request some fluff about going to sleep with Boyd (like actually sleeping lol), like him and the reader have a fun and flirty relationship and she knows about his criminal enterprises (S4 vibes with the pocket watch UGH). Maybe he comes home late or something and is just all over the reader but not in a sexual way, just like a missing and wanting to be close to her way.

Out Of Time

Boyd Crowder x GN!Reader

Warnings: slight spoilers for season 4, a little angst if you squint but just pure comfort and fluff (Boyd is in love)

Word Count: 2K

A/N: Anon, thank you for my first Boyd request and simultaneously igniting a burning passion within me to write more for this man. I kept the reader GN because there wasn't really any need for gender descriptors, and yes I did make that gif just for this fic 🫡 I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

Boyd sat silently on the edge of the bed, his gaze lingering on your tranquil, sleeping form. The mattress creaked softly under his weight, causing your steady breathing to hitch momentarily before settling back into a gentle rhythm. He brushed his fingers across your cheek, a surge of longing filling his heart. He had missed you. Those brief moments in the mornings, stolen before you left for work or he had to attend to his business, were never enough. Yet, he cherished every fleeting second, treasuring these quiet moments when he could simply watch over you.

He knew you held no resentment towards him, not even when he returned home later than promised, body weary and mind burdened by his actions, like tonight, and countless other nights. He understood that you wouldn't pry, wouldn't demand every detail of his whereabouts, because that wasn't your way, and for that, he was deeply grateful. It meant you could stay just a little bit safer. You never asked for more than he could offer, only requesting that he come back to you when he could, to reassure you of his presence, to let you know he was still breathing.

Of course, he would. He'd move heaven and earth, and blow the top off that damn mountain just to fulfil his promise to you. No matter the challenges, he would find his way back to you, and you'd greet him with open arms, washing away his sins and soothing his wounds with tender kisses. You'd offer him everything a man like him could ever desire, and he knew deep down he never deserved it.

He didn't allow himself to linger on the thought of not being worthy of you. You'd never insinuated it, not even during the fiercest arguments. You never stooped to using his vulnerabilities against him. It was evident to all that Boyd's Achilles' heel was you, yet you always made him feel invincible, as though he could stand against any adversary in Harlan County. And there were many, especially with the Oxy trade dwindling with the arrival of the new preacher and the drastic measures Boyd had to employ to protect not just his business, but your shared future together.

You often credited Boyd with rescuing you from a life confined to cleaning tables in seedy bars, but the truth was far deeper: you had saved him. Boyd harboured no illusions about his criminal past; he knew the trajectory it set for his future. Yet, it was you who prevented him from plunging too deeply into the shadows of his upbringing. The thought of returning home to you, regardless of the hour, was the sole beacon that guided him through the gruelling days of battling for control over Harlan County. He fought not just for the people or for himself, but for you, and for the possibility of a family you might one day bless him with —that was what made every struggle worthwhile.

You stirred beneath his touch, your lashes fluttering as your eyes slowly opened, bleary and seeking. A smile graced your lips as you spotted him, reaching out to rest your hand on his thigh, as if confirming he was really there.

"Was wondering when I'd see you," you murmured, your voice husky with sleep. Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to the tip of your nose.

"Time ran away from me," he confessed, his gaze soft as he regarded you. "I'm sorry, darlin'."

You studied him for a moment, the urge to inquire further tugging at your thoughts before you decided to let it go. "Time can be a tricky thing."

Allowing him to guide you up, you melted into his embrace as he held you close. His gentle fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, smoothing the fabric of his shirt that you wore to bed each night under his touch.

"I left dinner for you in the fridge," you reminded him, pulling back slightly to meet his eyes. "I'll join you."

He shook his head, drawing you back into his arms. "Not hungry," he murmured, planting a soft kiss on your neck. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"Well, you failed miserably," you teased, a playful chuckle escaping your lips as he shook you in his hold around your waist. You could feel his smile against your skin. "How could I sleep with you hovering over me like a ghost?"

He chuckled, releasing you and gently nudging your shoulder. You settled back against the pillows, observing him as he rose from the bed.

"You'd scold me if I didn't kiss you goodnight," he remarked, a fond smile on his lips as he removed his pocket watch and set it on the bedside table. He held your gaze as he began to unbutton his waistcoat. "You ask every morning."

You hummed in agreement, running your thumb over the smooth surface of the brass watch. In the early days, you had made it a habit to stay awake during Boyd's late nights, eager to be alert in case his dealings took a dangerous turn and he needed to be patched up. It had occurred a few times, though not recently. Boyd Crowder was the sharpest mind in Harlan—few managed to outsmart him.

Your new job had demanded more from you, and though you had offered to resign, Boyd had insisted that one of you must earn through legitimate means. He had encouraged you to attend training school, funded the evening studies through unconventional channels and sang about how this new role was going to be a step in cementing the future you'd both dreamed of. Nevertheless, it had taken a toll on you, and you found yourself less vigilant than you were before, despite the anxiety that had kept you alert during those initial months, worrying about his safety. 

He didn't mind, of course. He reassured you that he was simply grateful to return home to you, for the comfort and warmth you provided him, and for the graciousness with which you welcomed his associates, despite your reluctance for your home to serve as a meeting place during desperate times. He never made you feel inadequate, even when he was out risking his life to carve out a brighter future for both of you.

You had both settled into a familiar routine, one that left you both yearning for more but ultimately grateful when the day ended and you found solace in each other's embrace.

As the covers shifted, a chill swept over you, but Boyd swiftly slid beneath them, now dressed only in his underwear, and nestled closer to you. He gently retrieved the pocket watch from your hand, leaning over to place it back on the table, before wrapping his arm around your waist. You lay on your back, gazing up at the ceiling, your fingers tangling in his thick hair as he nestled against your chest, finding comfort in your embrace.

A myriad of thoughts raced through your mind, a multitude of questions that remained unspoken as you focused on the steady rhythm of your shared breaths. Sometimes, you felt the urge to uncover everything, to strip away all secrecy and confront the raw reality of what Boyd endured each day. Yet, you quickly reminded yourself—that wasn't your place. Your role was to support him while maintaining a certain level of ignorance. It was crucial, Boyd had insisted, in case you were ever questioned about him. Which you were, often, if not by nosy neighbours from the holler then by your lawman colleagues. You had been prepared for every instance though, it was Boyd who had thrown you into the belly of the beast after all. 

You loved Boyd deeply, trusting him with your life because you understood it was the thing he valued most. If he required you to play a part, then that's what you would do. You'd remain silent, tend to his wounds, and hold him close, serving as the anchor he needed to prevent him from drifting too far out to sea.

His lips traced a tantalizing path over your collar bone, up your neck, and across your chin until they met yours in a soft, lingering kiss. A contented sigh escaped you as you melted into him, his hand exploring the contours of your body, caressing your side, gliding over your stomach, and tracing down your thigh. He grasped, stroked, and savoured every inch of you, his tongue intertwining with yours in a passionate dance.

Your hand slipped from his hair, instead cupping one cheek as the other tenderly stroked his jaw, rough with the stubble that grazed your thumb. He moaned against your lips, a sound laden with desire and need, but reluctantly pulled away, pressing one final kiss against the corner of your mouth before meeting your gaze with weary eyes.

"How long do I have you for?" he inquired, his voice heavy with longing, and you glanced over to the clock beside the bed. The red digits stared back at you, marking the finite moments of your togetherness as you let out a resigned sigh.

"Four hours," you replied, meeting his gaze once more. He nodded, a solemn smile touching his lips as he sank back onto the mattress. Extending his arm, he invited you to snuggle against his chest, and you accepted, finding solace in the warmth.

"What if you didn't go?" he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty, his fingers tracing soothing circles on the top of your arm. You chuckled softly, tightening your embrace around him as the notion settled into your mind.

"I'm not sure the Harlan County Sheriff's Department would appreciate their employees playing hooky," you replied with a teasing grin. "Even if it's just a lowly trainee like me."

"Oh, I'm sure Mr. Parlow could manage without you for one day," he replied with a playful smile, then his expression turned mischievous as he looked down at you. "Perhaps I could persuade him, given our history."

You shook your head, a glint of amusement dancing in your eyes. Boyd always teased about using his influence to manipulate your work schedule—leaving early, extending your lunch break—but you were adamant about keeping your relationship with him separate from your professional life, regardless of his hand in it. You knew he could pull strings if you asked, but it was important to maintain a sense of independence.

"You did mention we needed to keep Shelby on our side," you reminded him with a playful smile. "I'm pretty sure that's how I ended up agreeing to those early shifts in the first place."

He chuckled softly and leaned in to press another kiss to your nose. "You've got me there, darlin'," he admitted, his voice tinged with affection. "Just wish I had more time with you, is all," he whispered, his thumb gently tracing along your lip before stroking down your chin.

You bit your lip, weighing the possibilities and outcomes in your mind as you gazed up at him. "Perhaps just the morning wouldn't hurt. I'll bring them coffee to make it up—do you think that'll help? Maybe Shelby won't be too upset," you proposed, searching his eyes for reassurance. His gaze softened, a bright grin spreading across his face.

"Oh, baby, I don't think anybody could stay mad at you," he declared in wonderment, and you couldn't help but chuckle. He wasn't merely being sweet—being Boyd Crowder's partner came with its perks as well as its drawbacks, one being that those who didn't want to cross him tended to steer clear of you. It seemed that extended to the Sheriff's department as well.

"I'll call in the morning," you decided, determination firm in your voice.

You rested your head back against his chest, snuggling closer into him as his arms enveloped you, his chin resting atop your head as he spoke softly. "I do believe this'll be the best sleep I've had in a while."

You smiled contentedly against him, feeling the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. Closing your eyes, you surrendered to the embrace of sleep, your dreams filled with the promise of the morning ahead, shared with Boyd, where every moment, no matter how seemingly ordinary, was something to look forward to.

[ioniansunsets]

can i request a fic for when reader falls asleep on kayn? it can be friends to lovers if you want <3

✖ Sleeping on Kayn's Chest ✖

✖ Word Count: 599 Words

✖ Tags: Budding RS | Shadow Order Reader

✖ A/N: I miss writing runeterra kayn so I WROTE RUNETERRA. hit me with another ask if you want a heartsteel ver of this uwu (or any other skinline tbh ugh i love you kaynie)

----

It was late after training. He didn’t know how it ended up like this but with some complaints about being not only exhausted but covered in bruises, he found you collapsing in his arms as he stumbled back to lean against the wall behind him. A soft oof escaping him as he caught you. Slowly sliding down to sit on the floor and properly support your weight, he casts his gaze downwards to stare at you.

“ W-What the hell are you doing?”

He whispers out to you flustered as his arms instinctively wrapped around you to hold you close. Eyebrows furrowed as your arms are lazily thrown around him.

“ Hey. Hello? Are you-”

Kayn promptly shuts up as he notices your closed eyes and how you were now dead asleep in his arms. A rhythmic up and down breathing of your chest as you slept soundly lying against him on the dusty floor of the training hall. Oh no.

The long haired man felt his heart race. The loud drumming in his ears that he knows is from the adrenaline of you holding him like this. Suddenly, very, very aware of just how intimately close the two of you were like this. I mean, it was nothing new, he’s held your arms in a grapple before, straddled you as you two sparred, hells, he’s even felt your arms around him when you flipped him over mid fight once. Feeling you, holding you, those things were but small second long treats saved for when he sparred you. Not…not for whole minutes…not this.

Gods he hope his racing heart doesn’t wake you up. The beating so loud and hard he swears he can see his chest move up and down with each thump. It was late in the evening after lunch. No one should be coming by the training hall at this time. He can afford to hold you for a little bit…right? He was…allowed to keep you close like this? Allowed to…have you comfortable in his embrace…

Kayn bites his lip as he thought about it, hoping he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries with you as you two held each other. The blush on his face getting redder and warmer as you slowly sink into his hug. Your head moving so slightly to snuggle up against him. He feels it now alright... The undeniable, overwhelming amount of love he has for you. He curses to himself, knowing that romance isn’t something he can really pursue in this line of work but when you look so soft and vulnerable in his arms. When you feel safe enough around him to fall asleep although you were covered in cuts and bruises… He sucks in another soft breath to try and calm himself.

“ The things you do to me…”

Kayn whispers softly as a hand tentatively reaches up to comb through your hair. A soft look of affection on his face that no one has ever seen from him before. As his heart slowly calms down, a new soft of peace and serenity fills him. Seeing you sleeping so soundly. He looks around, making sure the two of you truly were alone before he whispers again even softer as his gaze carefully lands back on you.

“ I… I really love you so much. I hope you can tell.”

As a genuinely appreciative smile graces his lips as he admits his little secret to your sleeping form. Closing his eyes too, Kayn takes a nap with you lying against him. Whatever you have to say about this is later’s problem.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Twisted Wonderland x FemReader | Maid Milker

“No. No way! I’m not selling myself just so you can get more thirsty perverts bothering me!”

Since it had recently been discovered that you were the only female in a college meant for boys you could hardly breathe without someone openly creeping on you. First it was just students staring longingly, before it started becoming confessions, and then open stalking. There was even an official fan club that made a point to broadcast every single part of your life private or not. There was no filter. So of course when one of the few people who you had an established friendship (kinda) asked you to exploit just that.

“Awwww, shrimpy! Don’t you wanna work with me? We’d have so much fun!”

He leaned his head on yours letting more of his weight weigh on you as you struggled to keep up right.

“I’d love to but not in a maid dress! Do you know how bad those things can be for girls like me?”

“What could possibly be stopping you other than the overwhelming support of your club?” Jade interjected slyly picking at the fact that you had a literal fan base that would praise you for simply walking.

“Not. My. Club. And panty shots.”

“Easy fix. We can invest in some shorts.” Azul, confident he pushed his glasses up and shrugged; you grimaced.

“I’d have to shave.”

“Stockings.”

“Those get hair?” Floyd directed at his brother who tilted his head. “Apparently.”

“Ugh harassment.”

“Do you even have to ask? Jade and Floyd.”

“Ugh. What about...my dignity!” You hated that this was you picking at straws here.

“The whole lounge will be on the same rules as you and what's wrong with a student earning some much needed cash. If people think it’s so funny you’re working so hard it’d behoove them to help out of pity.”

“Hmmm...” you brought your index and thumb to your chin in hopes that it could come up with some other reason why this wouldn’t work. Finding that you couldn’t find one you saw no problem agreeing as long as you cleared some things up.

“I get paid and I keep all my tips?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone I ask to be removed for behavior will be removed?”

“Of course.”

“...and I get to keep the costume.”

“...”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“Well...”

“Azul!”

“Okay okay. It’s yours.”

“Thank you, well then I’ll gladly be in your service.”

______________________________________________________________

"I'm surprised you let that go, Azul." The eel-mer spoke without looking up from the modal he was counting, sporting his typical smile.

"Patience, Jade. We don't need golden eggs when we have the goose." Azul reassured writing in his ledger with a confident tone.

"What goose?" Floyd was leaned over the couch behind Azul.

"Its a land expression, you should have covered that in literature already."

"We did but someone wasn't in the mood to listen for the whole of it."

"He~he."

The octo-mer didn't look up from what he was writing but he did stop to speak seriously to the eel.

"If we want this plan to work though you'll need to be in the mood to listen...can you do that at least."

"He~he I'm always in the mood when Shrimpy's involved!"

______________________________________________________________

“Haha, I can’t belie-haha-you agreed to this!” 

Ace was having a field-day, as you expected but you had thrown out your embarrassment and were going to proudly wear your themed maid outfit in purple and black. 

“Shut up Ace! Before I spit in your drink!” 

You whispered the last bit as Jade strongly asked that you refrain from giving any fluid of yours without having paid for the service specifically. Feeling satisfied as Ace held his hands up in submission you looked at Deuce who looked at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth as he looked at your outfit.

“Got something to say, Deuce?”

You mockingly taunted him in case he thought about hopping on the bully-(Y/n) bandwagon.  He continued to flutter before he finally gathered himself looking down then up at you.

“I-uh, like your stockings.” He gulped, diverting his attention for awhile before returning to its latest focus. You immediately perked, balancing the trey to let your hand slide past the fluff of your dress to pull at the fabric.

“Like it? I was originally going to go with tights that went up all the way-“ you let go causing the strap to slap against the plush of your thigh, adding emphasis to your statement. “But I decided these jock-straps were too cute to pass up.” 

You dismiss yourself walking back to the kitchen as Deuce blushes full force as he replays the whole interaction in his mind. Not just your words but the prideful look in your eye as you snapped the strap against your thigh, leaving the Heartslabyul student reeling with his imagination. Just across from him, Ace too was replaying the view of you walking away. It was just too easy. 

“Hate to watch you go but love to watch you leave.”

He had to come here every night. 

“Oh, here’s your underwater mocha and your sweet oyster tart.”

Riddle couldn’t help looking, it was what everyone was here to do anyway. But that was why he came: to make sure everyone was doing just that. So why was it so much worse for him when that was all he could do.

“A-and you're sure this is consensual?”

“Yeah, no worries. Besides, the modal I’m getting for this will have me and Grim eating happily for days!”

“If foods what your worried about, I’d gladly put some on your plate.” 

The baker spoke smoothly talking in that calming voice everyone relaxed at totally masking the true intention.

“I appreciate that Trey but with your sweets I’d definitely pack on a few and I don’t need that.�� You joked, oblivious to the green and orange eyes flickering to your stomach and thighs before flashing such charming smiles.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind that at all (Y/n).”

“I agree, (Y/n). You’d look stunning, even if you racked on a hundred more.”

“Aw gee thanks guys!”

You couldn’t deny you felt an intensity when they spoke your name but you couldn’t focus on whatever heat they might have spurred especially when you were being called to serve your next order. 

“Oh sorry guys, I have to go now. Enjoy your drinks and treats.”

You scurried off only for Riddle to make an interesting discovery. “For only 2,000 madol you can have your waiter hand feed you? I-it’s better that we check and make sure this er-practice is healthy or not, yes?”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” “Count me in, boss.”

“You have some nerve accepting business from the fish.” Leona spoke in his gruff voice immediately having you reel back to his table. In the booth he sat on the cushion by himself with the other being shared by Jack and Ruggie. You nervously laughed as you waited for Ruggie to finally speak after eying you up and down.

“And how much would you be willing to do this for?”

You laughed at him, thinking he was joking when his sky blues were staring unwavering right back at you. Recovering you thought for a moment.

“I guess it would be a lot, not including whatever liberties I’ll even allow. But it’s not like anyone would pay for me to actually do something like this.”

You nervously chuckled only for the knowing smirks spread on Leona and Ruggie's face as you once again realized this was no joke. With a cough from the forgotten guest you looked at Jack who seemed to fidget as he blushed.

“While I don’t think you're anywhere near the level being a maid, you still look...very pretty.”

“Aww thank you Jack!” You struck a pose with a heart before walking off to attend your duties leaving Ruggie to relentlessly be smacked by the wagging of Jack’s tail not seeming to mind as he dazed off to watch you work.

“Oh manifique mademoiselle trickster you’ve rendered me a slave to your beauty and I’m floored to witness you in such a state!” As dramatic and as loud as Rook could be he never failed to make you blush at his compliments as you tried to take the tables order down.

Vil looked off to the side, eying an occupied twin at the bar before turning to look up at you. Smoothly he twirled his fingers around the lace of your maid dress lightly brushing against the now exposed skin of your thigh. 

“I didn’t realize you liked to play dress-up (Y/n)...” you blubbered trying to find another topic as his light playing turned into suggestive pulling before you bashfully pushed down your dress. 

“Next time you do we’ll have a private fashion show (Y/n), that way you can really learn how to play your role...properly.”

Regrettably Epel never properly spoke to you; he was too interested in the way the apron and dress hugged your body.  Making certain to burn it into his memory for an apple carving later for at least he’d be allowed to lick that version of you. 

“(Y/n)!!”

Shouting as if he hadn’t just sat with you in science class, he launches himself at you immediately causing you to spill a drink you were carrying for another table. Eventually breaking from his hug, thanks to Jamil he begins to apologize.

“Aw I’m so sorry (Y/n)! I’ll pay for it and I’ll take you to eat here.”

He seems so happy and with a smile like that you struggled with what to say, thankfully Jamil had that covered he pulled out a hanky he kept on hand.

“Can’t you see Kalim, she’s working right now. And you ruined her appearance.”

“I did? How? You look perfect to me.”

“Aww thanks Kalim.”

Distracted by his musings you almost missed how Jamil kneeled down to rub at the sugary residue on your thighs. Gulping down a blush he tried his best to clean, even though it made no progress at all and he knew that. 

“Heheeh Jamil that tickles! I appreciate the help but no worries. In fact I’ll get you two seated right away.”

You guided the two to an empty booth completely unaware of the sorrowful face Kalim was pulling as Jamil pocketed the handkerchief. With a playful flick of his tongue Jamil hurried ahead as Kalim caught up.

Idia was hardly keeping it together seeing you run around taking orders from customers and running around with food on a tray had fueled the fantasy of the cliche maid cafe. He was practically already dying from the sheer amount of noise and extroverts that had gathered here but he most certainly was revived in some strange way to see you in your maid uniform. He refused to bring Ortho with him as this was his special mission on high difficulty and he didn't want Ortho tainted by your succubus charm, of course not because you might be discovered by yet another love rival. When you finally did run up to him a delicious sheen of sweat coated your arms and your forehead wonderfully accompanied but the sticky residue a drink must have made on your thighs-oh seven your thighs it sent him into another frenzy as he was barely able to recite his order. 

“Oh, you want the ocean blue smoothie?”

He nodded.

“With the lip mark and a quarter drunk?”

He nodded again.

You looked at him for a bit before shrugging. ‘Everyone at some point must want to feel less lonely.’

So in front of him in the most secluded booth there was you bringing his drink and reapplied your matching lipstick before happily indulging in India’s drink. He didn’t realize you’d do it in front of him! But he wasn’t complaining, all the more grateful for his hidden body-cam as he watched your throat bob drinking his drink. He left happily holding the to-go cup that had your lip marks on it. He was going to...cherish the trophy for a successful mission.

Lilia traversed through enough of the internet to know about the anime-maid-obsession. He won’t lie, for awhile he too was intrigued before moving on but seeing you pad around in such a cute replica reignited it for him. 

“It’s a shame you aren’t in-character that way you would have had to do what your master said!”

“Hehe, well than Master Lilia, here's your Pearl Gray iced tea.”

The joking you did with him made the old fae quite excited but he could handle himself until he got back to his dorm. Yes he could wait till he was in his lonesome. He could wait until then to imagine how helpless you’d be under him as he rearranged your guts on the dining table for mocking your master. So all he did was giggle and wink because he was grown. And that’s just what grown fae do. Wait until later to enact his desires.

Malleus didn’t understand why you were wearing such attire and he didn’t appreciate the way it made everyone ogle you like you were free for the taking. It upset him but anger was quelled when from his position he could smell you so clearly and the tightness of your uniform made it all the more appealing to watch. He was angry but when you happily flashed the cuff links he gifted you his anger subsided...kind of. If you were willing to show this much to the general populace than surely you’d have something far more intimate to show him. With that he indulged in his beverage excusing the involuntary flip of your skirt as moved to serve your guests.

Silver did see you in the maid outfit, if only briefly before getting comfortable enough to snooze again. But being awoken to a soft but forceful hold on your head does something. Grasping the crown of his head, nails barely grazing his scalp was a feeling he hadn’t expected to invoke such a reaction out of him. He did moan but thankfully it seemed normal enough that you didn’t question it when he sat upright.

“I’m glad I caught you, that would have been an awful waste of madol. Now Sebek, did you want anything?”

Oh he did want something, to chew you out over your wild attempts to flaunt yourself for all these men and for failing to properly woo his master. But that was before you reached past him to stop Silver from falling in his sleep into his drink. You successfully caught the human, completely oblivious to the half fae you inadvertently shoved your chest into. He’s probably suffocating but is he going to stop you while you right his fellow guard from falling? No! Especially not when you smell so good-and this--this is a part of his training! Yes! To be able to withstand the wiles of a human female for the sake of his master. Right! But it seems he’s failed this time as he won’t be able to properly utter a sentence until he’s forgotten the softness he nearly suffocated in.

“Uh-uhm-uh-er-“

“I’ll just get you some water, hun.”

______________________________________________________________

Finally draping yourself over the couches armrest you let out an exasperated sigh. On your feet all day, running around playing maid for everyone in the Monstro Lounge was beyond exhausting. You were glad it was the end. You walked into the office where Azul seemed to have finished organizing his contracts. Sitting in a nearby chair and on the floor respectively was Jade and Floyd. They smiled at you as your tiredness showed nodding at them before leaning playfully into Azul. Breath tickling his ear you asked.

“Now can I have my pay? My hour’s up.” You yawned, leaning your head onto his shoulder as his face bloomed a concerning shade of red.

“I-it’s l-late isn’t it? Don’t you want to stay the night.?” 

You yawned again. “No why?”

Jade slid in behind you letting you lean back on him as he swayed you through the door and near a storage area. 

“We can all see it, we've worked you dry, (Y/n). So take this time to sleep and I’ll take you back in the morning.”

Floyd appeared tossing a Monstro lounge t-shirt that was way too many sizes big for you. Looking at their sharp smiles you relented, excusing yourself to change before returning and happily passing out on whoever’s bed they guided you to. 

In the meantime the three stood menacingly over your abandoned maid outfit. Jade pulled out a checklist and Azul got his wand ready. 

“Now who is on the top priority list for a copy.”

“Not including us, Malleus Draconia, Idia Shroud, and oddly enough Neige Leblanche.” 

“Alright then."

“Let’s get started then.”

[eds-gryff]

The Weight of Beauty

Edmund Pevensie x Reader

(Requested by @popsixsquish

‘Could I perhaps request some Edmund comforting an insecure reader?’

Again, very sorry it took me over a year to finally get to this! 😬)

A/N: So, this is kind of a confession- I write all my requests and x Reader one-shots with my OC, Sanya, in mind. I write her name and her country and her hair colour, and then I change it to Y/N, etc, after I finish writing.

If you would like, I have a four-part Narnia series on my Wattpad, which is Edmund x (plus-size, POC) Original Character; it is called The Alliance Series (‘Alliance’, ‘The Heirs’, ‘Moonshine’, and ‘Fairytale?’, with ‘Sultana’ as a companion AU), which you might enjoy! If you enjoyed my fics here, and if you liked the Y/N in them, you’ll love Sanya as well as her relationship with Edmund. The marriage and overall background of Edmund and Y/N in this fic are actually based off Edmund and Sanya in Alliance!

Here is the link to my Wattpad⤵

A/N2: You know, I am personally very insecure myself and I am pretty chubby, so writing this down was actually rather cathartic. I’m not madly in love with Edmund like I was when I was sixteen (when I started writing The Alliance Series, btw), but it is still quite comforting to write one of my favourite characters being so complimentary and sweet about something most people are not.

Anyway-

Y/N= Your Name, Y/C/N= Your Country's Name, Y/N/n= Your Nickname, Y/H/C= Your Hair Colour, Y/E/C= Your Eye Colour. Reader is plus-size.

Happy Reading!

---

Y/N knew she had a terrible expression on her face as she strode back to her bedchambers, and she knew it wasn’t the most fitting expression for a Queen whose main work that day had been a diplomatic excursion- but she could not help it! She was usually very good at hiding her innermost emotions, but today had simply gone too far.

“Ugh.” Was the first word- or, sound?- that left her lips as she shut- rather violently- the door of the bedchamber. She let her feet carry her to the large canopy bed that stood in the center of the room, and she immediately fell back on it, absolutely uncaring how it would mess up the hair that her maid had carefully arranged. She couldn’t care less about what she looked like in this moment.

And then she let out a hacking laugh at the irony. This whole predicament was because she cared too much about what she looked like.

After a few minutes- or perhaps hours, Y/N did not know, she was prone to dissociating from reality- she heard the door open. If it had been any other room, she would’ve sat up quickly, ready to fight if it was an intruder, but there was only one other person with the key for this room- and thus, it could only be one person to be coming in the bedchamber currently, for it was his bedroom as much as hers.

Her husband, King Edmund the Just.

“Y/N/n.” Edmund’s tone was rather humorous, and Y/N felt the urge to throw a pillow at him. “I know you are prone to sleeping in, but didn’t you have a diplomatic tour today? With- Terabinthia?”

Curse his good memory.

She made a sound that resembled Troll, but thankfully Edmund knew her well enough to know that she was simply affirming his question.

“Did the delegation not arrive? I am sorry I could not be with you,” Edmund sat down next to his wife, and smiled when she automatically held her hand out to him, which he clasped in his, “but the matter with the villagers took all day. Lucy is still there, I only had to return for a courtier needed a signature very urgently.”

Thankfully, Susan had already signed for it by the time he’d reached, and so he had made his way to his bedchambers instead, for some rest and relaxation.

“They arrived.” Y/N mumbled, eyes closed. She did feel slightly better, though, just the simple act of her husband holding her hand was a comfort. “And they left.”

“Already? Good for you, my antisocial darling.”

She felt the corners of her mouth lift despite herself.

But she said, “I made them leave.”

“Er- not a diplomatic action, that.”

“No, husband, not like that.” Though, she had done that many times before. She was absolutely not the royal who was the first choice for such missions. “They were too embarrassed, so they excused themselves after an hour. Because of me.”

The Just King’s brows furrowed, “Why were they embarrassed?”

She did not answer, but she did open her eyes. Edmund’s chocolate-brown eyes looked down at her, concern and some amusement in them, and she let out a sigh.

“Don’t you wish you were married to someone thin?”

There were not many things or people that caught Edmund off-guard, but his wife was very much an exception, as he learned more and more ever day.

As such, he could only say, “What?”

Sluggishly, the Queen sat up, “Well, you didn’t want to marry me.”

“You didn’t want to marry me, either.” Edmund pointed out immediately. Their marriage had been arranged, part of a political alliance between Narnia and Y/C/N, Y/N’s land. The bride and groom had not been pleased. “And we both loathed the state of our marriage for the first few months.”

This was true. Y/N- who had been titled the Y/N/T not long after this hated wedding- had actually taken to hiding in the Stables to avoid her husband.

Then things had changed and evolved, and they had spent time together and grown closer- and now, now she was so besotted and in love with him, she felt like one half of a couple from some dramatic romance novel.

And she was rather sure he felt the same way.

“Well, yes. But I was attracted to you from the beginning, you know. You are so beautiful, husband. If there is any human worthy of the title of the God of beauty, it is you.” Her voice was soft, and Edmund almost instinctively moved closer to her. “I may have hated you and our marriage, but the saving grace was your beauty and your respectfulness. Oh, and your freckles.”

The accent didn’t hurt, either.

He grinned, “Oh, speak on, please. I am enjoying this turn of conversation very much.”

To her surprise, she laughed out loud, “Of course you are.”

But it seemed she had spoken too soon, for at the same time, Edmund had spoken, “But I would like to finish the previous topic first. What was that about me wanting a thin spouse?”

“Um.” Y/N was regretting saying that suddenly. She was not one to bare her innermost emotions and thoughts often, unless it was in a diary. “Nothing.”

“Y/N.”

Oh, it really was serious if he was calling her by not a pet-name.

“What exactly happened with the Terabinthian delegation?”

The Queen groaned, and fell back in bed again.

“Your Majesty!” The head of the Terabinthian delegation, came over to the carriage in front of which Y/N stood. Curtseying, she spoke, “I am the Duchess of Terabinthia.”

She curtseyed as well, “The Y/N/T Queen, at your service.” While in Narnia, she preferred to use the epithet awarded to her because of her marriage to a Narnian King. If this had been her country, she’d have called herself the High Queen of Y/C/N. “Welcome to Narnia.”

“Thank you verily for making the time to meet us. We are grateful.”

“No need for gratitude, it was our honour.” Y/N said, wishing she could go home already. Why had Peter assigned her to do this? He knew she hated this- oh, that must be exactly why. She was absolutely going to bonk her brother-in-law on the head with her sword the next time they had a duel. “We are most glad you visited Narnia on your tour. And Y/C/N is next, I believe? I will make sure you have the best guide for your travel in my country.”

The Duchess bowed her head in gratitude, and her eyes widened.

“Oh, I did not know! My most heartfelt congratulations.”

Y/N blinked, “Thank you, but for what?”

Yes, she had new shoes on- not by her choice, but her most comfortable pair had actually fallen apart- but that wasn’t something to be congratulated upon.

“You are expecting! It has not been announced, as far as I know, so that must be why you are surprised.” Her face broke in a wide smile, and she did not notice as the Queen’s face withered. “You and King Edmund must be over the Moon.”

Y/N could not say anything. What could she say? That, no, she wasn’t pregnant, she was simply fat. That, no, her breasts had not grown because they would soon nurse a child, but because she had always been ample? That, no, the weight around her middle was not because there was a babe in her womb, but because she was unhealthy and unfit and always had been?

“How far are you along, Your Majesty? I imagine it must be the second trimester- Your Majesty?” The Duchess’s smile faltered. “Is everything- is all well?”

“Yes.” She had to be gracious, diplomatic. She could take off her new shoe and throw it at her, or go hide in her carriage and have a breakdown like she was a teenager again. “But I am not with child, my Duchess, my husband and I have yet to be blessed in that way. I am simply- this is simply how I am.”

The other woman’s eyes widened, and she took a nervous glance back, to the rest of the delegation, who were surely wondering what was taking so long.

“I am so- I cannot apologise enough, Your Majesty, I had no idea- I thought that, because of what you- because you are- I- forgive me.”

“Yes.” Y/N said, though she did not. It wasn’t the Duchess’s fault, she was fat, she knew, which was not common among royalty or nobility.

Still, she couldn’t help but harbour a grudge.

“Well. Shall we on?”

“Oh, I will be sending them a very strongly worded letter.” Edmund said, his face even paler than usual and his eyes burning with anger. Who in their right mind would speak to his beautiful, wonderful, courageous wife in such a way? “How dare-”

“Because it’s the truth. I am fat.” Y/N said, and looked down at herself. She was still garbed in exactly what she had been wearing then. “I can’t even tell myself that she misunderstood because I was bundled up in a cloak and shawl- I wasn’t and am not.”

It was a warm day, in summer. She’d worn a gown with cap-sleeves that the Royal Tailor had recently delivered, with intricate embroidery in an art style belonging to her homeland around the hemline, bodice, and sleeves. It was scarlet and purple and gold, and she had liked it, even loved it, but now she did not think she’d ever wear it again.

Not to mention, she was no beauty, but at least the jewels and crown distracted from the ugliness of her face.

“Y/N/n, you aren’t-”

“Oh, please. You have seen me naked enough times to know I speak the truth!”

He had seen, felt, touched the pudginess of her stomach, the curvy rolls around her sides. He’d gripped her thick thighs, he’d kissed them, and he’d slid his fingers over the dark-red stretch-marks that were present all over her body- her flabby arms, her fat thighs, her plump sides.

She squeezed her eyes shut, “I hate feeling like this. I know my weight does not equal my worth, I know it doesn’t matter that I’m ugly, and I know getting so upset is utterly stupid, but I cannot help it.”

She had felt insecure about her body for as long as she could remember. Even as a child, as one with little care for anything but her playthings, she remembered how she’d been upset when a pretty outfit gifted to her did not fit her, or when she’d preferred to wear something oversized to conceal her heaviness. Granted, no healer had ever said she, then the Princess, was overweight, simply that she was healthy and stout- but when compared to the slender, picturesque folk around her, she had felt and still felt like an elephant in silk.

“How could you not want someone thin- someone beautiful? Someone- someone who’s not me.”

Edmund felt rather at a loss. He always knew what to say, how to take charge of a conversation, how to keep the other person calm- but he felt utterly speechless in the moment. His oft-praised silver-tongue had all but disappeared.

But he knew one thing- he did not agree with his wife.

“My darling.” He lay down beside her as well, and pulled her to him, nestled in his arms. He felt a soft breath of comfort escape her lips, and he was glad. “You say you were attracted to me the moment we met?”

Y/N nodded, hiding her face in his chest, “Even more so when I heard your accent.”

He held back a laugh, and went on, “And you know how I felt when I saw you?”

She shook her head, her Y/H/C hair falling over his blue-and-grey tunic, and Edmund berated himself for never telling her this before.

“I was mesmerised.” He said softly, so softly that Y/N had to look up, her Y/E/C eyes wide. “I would say enchanted, for that would be very true, but you know I have a rather difficult past with enchantments, so let’s stick to mesmerised. I could not take my eyes off you.”

Y/N muttered something that was probably ‘because of the corset’, but her cheeks were on fire.

Admittedly, his wife’s breasts had been rather pushed up and obvious because of the corset she’d worn under her outfit during their first meeting- and, yes, Edmund had not been able to stop himself from blatantly staring for a few seconds- but he was not speaking of that.

“You were rolling your eyes as you were formally announced-”

Almost predictably, she rolled her eyes again, and her husband did laugh softly this time.

“And I remember you were holding onto your own arm, as if comforting yourself, as if reminding yourself to be strong.” He spoke, dipping his head to press a kiss to her forehead. “Just by those two actions, you had my respect and my admiration, and then your beauty had my enthrallment as well.”

“Edmund...”

“You may not be what utterly vapid folk all over the world consider to the epitome of beauty,” which he absolutely did not, “but that did not stop me from thinking you to be the goddess of my dreams.”

She pressed her body closer to his, almost instinctively, as if her very skin wanted to be nearer to him.

“A thought I still have every single day.”

Emotion sparkled in her eyes.

“Really?”

And she still doubted him. Of course.

“Yes.”

“Even though I’m fat, and lumbering, and don’t even get me started on my nose-”

He wanted to throw a pillow at her, but restrained himself to saying, “Would you do me a favour?”

“I would die and kill for you, Edmund.” Y/N gave her husband a fond look. After what he had just said- oh, she had not thought she could have loved him any more than she already had, but she did! So, so much. She wanted to kiss him already. “Yes, of course, what is it?”

Edmund’s lips curved, “Could I undress you?”

Well, she would never be saying no to that.

She nodded, far too excited yet far beyond caring about seeming pathetic- and, soon enough, Edmund’s clever fingers were undoing laces and pulling down fabric and ghosting over her bare skin.

Once she was naked, Y/N reached for her husband, to make the situation equal, but he took her hands in his instead, before she could grip and tear at his tunic.

“What?” She asked impatiently. She wasn’t insecure in front of him anymore, she hadn’t been in years, not since the first time they had made love. All she thought when she was nude around him, was that she wanted him to be that way as well. “Let me undress you already, so we can-”

“That’s not what I meant.” He said, his freckled cheeks blushing. His wife cocked her head at him, and he elaborated, “I want you to know something- see something.”

Her eyes narrowed, “If you’re going to stand me in front of the mirror to look at my bare body, I will get my sword right now and tear your limbs instead of your clothes.”

Edmund’s intentions may be noble, but there was nothing Y/N hated the sight of more than her ungainly figure in the mirror.

Except vegetable mash. Ugh.

Ah, how delightfully murderous his darling wife was. Her country and his own was lucky to have her.

“No, no.” And he lay Y/N down on their bed, her hands clasped under her breasts, and she was giving him with a quizzical look the entire time.

He climbed carefully on top of her, half-covering her body with his, and pretended he didn’t notice Y/N rolling her hips against a part of his body that was extremely fond of his wife and extremely susceptible to her- to her everything.

“I want you to know exactly how I see you- and, hopefully, one day, via you gaining some sense or via osmosis or whatever, you’ll see it, too.”

What was osmosis?

Y/N was about to ask, but her words and her breath was stolen when she felt Edmund’s kisses on the space between her breasts.

But his hands were not on her breasts, as she’d hoped- they were on her plump upper arms, and he was speaking in a whisper to the hollow of her throat, “I see these as strength. I see these as proof that you are the most skilled swordsperson I know, the strongest person I know.”

His hands wandered down her arms to the pudgy rolls of her stomach, and Y/N squirmed. She could not help but think she was glad she had missed breakfast and had yet to have lunch, otherwise she’d be even fatter.

But Edmund was not thinking about her diet, he was speaking, still in that soft, reverential tone, “You call these pudgy, you think this is fat? Even if it is, I don’t care. Because I see this as you being healthy, as a sign that you will be with me for a long, long time, that you won’t be snatched away from me by cruel disease or anything like that.”

“Never.” Y/N vowed breathlessly- she would never leave him, she would fight time itself if necessary. “We’ll always be together.”

His response was a kiss to her throat, and his hands finally reached her breasts.

She wanted to close her eyes, to revel in his touch and know no other senses- but he was looking at her, his dark twinkling eyes never wavering from her face, and she could not look away.

He squeezed them, fingers glancing over her hard nipples, and said, “Want to know what I think of these?”

Y/N could only nod, too eager and too wanton and too in love.

“Fucking sexy.”

And his mouth met hers, finally, finally, finally.

It was a passionate kiss, for there had not been a single day in their lives together they had not desired each other- but as much as there was lust, there was love. As they kissed, Edmund’s heart was soothed because Y/N’s lips were warm on his- and Y/N’s soul was comforted, because Edmund’s mouth was steady against hers. His hand grazed against her breast again, and she slid her tongue inside his mouth, and they both drew even closer together in their embrace.

One of Y/N’s hands slipped inside Edmund breeches, inside his boxers, and wrapped itself around him. Edmund gasped into his wife’s mouth as he felt her touch, and Y/N’s hips rolled against his, her hands already stroking her husband’s cock.

But all too soon, Edmund pulled away, panting.

“Too daring, darling.” He said, as breathless as she’d been minutes ago. “I was trying to make a point, not-”

“Make love?” Y/N asked, her brows raised. She was sopping, needy, and she didn’t think she’d ever loved him more. Please, please, please could he take off his clothes already? “If there is a vote between the two, husband, I will be voting the latter, just for your information.”

“Noted,” Edmund kissed her shoulder, “but I am not done.”

He drew away from her, and Y/N groaned. Sitting up between her parted legs, Edmund took a moment to look down at his wife. At the expanse of her soft skin, occasionally marked with a mole or pimple or scar. At the curves that had made her ravishing to him the first time he’d seen her, and which had continued to only grow in loveliness over the years. At the valley between her legs, at the dips in her sides as her hips flared out.

Y/N was curves and dips and valleys, and he could not help but be glad she was not thin as a lamp-post, and Edmund thought of how- to him- her body was perfect to kiss and hold and caress and love.

He smiled suddenly, “You know, sometimes when I can’t sleep, I look at you, and I try to decide which is my favourite curve on your body.”

She blinked very rapidly. That was far more romantic than counting sheep- or dragons, as she preferred.

Sometimes, in her most lovelorn moments, she would count Edmund’s freckles. She usually got too distracted by them to actually sleep, though.

“Have you- have you ever made a decision?”

Edmund shook his head, his unruly bangs falling into his eyes.

“Sometimes I think it’s this.” He ran her hand down the bend of her right side, “sometimes this-” he gripped her left thigh just above where it met her knee, “and sometimes- often, actually- your tits.”

Y/N giggled.

Edmund bent his head low then, still holding her thighs. He peppered kisses to the stretch marks painted over her thighs and her waist, and felt a tight, hot coiling inside the pit of his stomach as Y/N trembled in pleasure underneath him.

“What do those tell you?” Y/N asked, her voice a murmur. She wrapped her legs around him, locking him in place. If she could keep him here forever, she would. She felt so content, so calm in his arms- apart from the raging want to fuck him. “My stretch-marks?”

“You’re marked by the Heavens.” His voice caught, almost, and he almost shivered at the intensity of her eyes. “They resemble lightning strikes, you know? And lightning, like storms, like the rain, comes from the Heavens.”

Hm. She’d compared her stretch marks to dead worms before, because they were roughly the same shade, but beautiful rain, which covered the earth with an even more beautiful smell whenever it fell?

“How am I supposed to keep thinking of myself as ugly, if you keep saying things like that?”

It was not quite a victory, but it was close enough.

“Exactly. You’re not supposed to think of yourself as that, because you’re as far from that as I can imagine.”

Her heart thudded in her chest, and seemed to grow. They had made love so many times in- in so many ways, so many places- but she was certain that this was the most intimate moment they had ever shared.

“You can’t just kiss away all of my insecurities.” She spoke with a small laugh, as Edmund lifted his head up to gaze at her. She really wished he could, but neither of them could wholly and fully heal the pain inside each other. “Try as you might, it’s not possible.”

“Well, I’ll still keep trying.” He shrugged, and pressed a very light kiss to her clit, which made Y/N moan out loud. He would absolutely have to lavish more attention there, he decided firmly, he was as amorous as she was. “I love you. I love you, and you are the love of my life, Y/N/n, and you are beautiful.”

She pulled him down next to her again, and she nestled herself closer to him. Edmund’s arms encircled her, and she was glad to be the little spoon. She was usually very glad to be the big spoon, holding her husband in her arms, but she loved this position very much, too.

Y/N didn’t think of herself as truly beautiful, and perhaps never would; Y/N did not think of her being plump in a positive light, and perhaps never would- but in this moment, and many other moments after this, Y/N would look down at herself, and she would not recoil, she would not grimace, she would only remember her husband’s words, and she would remember her strength and her bravery and the fact that she was alive, and she would no longer be cruel to her own self.

In this moment, and in many other moments after this, there was peace- in her mind as well as his, and in their hearts and souls, which perhaps were as joined together as the Moon and the stars.

Until there came knocks on the door minutes later, and Y/N all but shoved Edmund to open it. He gave her a look, but could do nothing more- she was naked, after all, she couldn’t open the door. Drat, he really didn’t want to get up.

Regardless, he kissed her nose, which scrunched up in the most adorable manner, and got out of bed.

Ah, the struggles of Kingship.

“I’m sorry to disturb, Your Majesty, but Queen Susan asked to inform you and Queen Y/N that lunch has been laid.”

“Oh, thank you very much,” Edmund said, after a glance back at his wife, who was smiling lazily at him over the tops of her breasts. He felt a blush coming on again. “But my Queen-wife and I are both feeling a bit under the weather, and I was about to request someone to bring our meal up to our chambers. Perhaps after half an hour?”

The faun bowed, “I shall have that be done, Your Majesty, thank you very much. My well-wishes for you and Her Majesty Y/N to soon feel better.”

Edmund nodded his head at him, a gracious smile on his face- and once the faun had departed, he closed the door and returned to the bed.

He snuggled close to his wife, who wrapped her arms around him. He felt perfectly, incandescently warm, and spoke into her shoulder, “I figured you would not want to face the world again today.”

She kissed his hair, saying, “You assume right, but what about you?”

“Oh, I prefer you to the world, by leaps and bounds.”

“I love you, husband.” Y/N said simply, and he pressed a short, chaste, yet endlessly loving kiss to her lips. “Anyway, now will you take off your clothes?”

Edmund matched her smirk with his, “How about you take them off for me, Y/N/n?”

Not another insecurity was thought of again that day, and the faun had to return with their meals four times before the King and Queen finally opened the door.

--

[dadbodsandbellies]

The author of this captions decided to stay anonymous. Enoy!

—–

“Oooof… hand me the oil would ya son?” He asked as he plopped down on the couch spreading his legs and undid his belt and zipper to make room for his big heavy belly to rest in between. I handed him the coconut oil and watched as he took a hand full and rubbed the sides of his big achy stomach. He was 9 months along now with quads and was due any day now. “They get bigger and bigger by the day! I don’t know how much bigger i could possibly get.” He says as he slaps both hands at the sides of his big round oily belly and rubs in big circles . “Ooh oof ungh” he grunts and moans as the babies kick and protest at the pressure of his rubbing. “You should be due any day now. Need any help?” I offered. Truth be told I enjoyed watching him sit on the couch everyday unable to get up from the size and weight of his heavy and perfectly round gut that protruded so far that he had no choice but to let it rest in between his tired legs spread out wide. In the mornings he’d eat and engorge until his belly was tight and full. After all he was eating for 5. In the afternoon I’d sit and watch tv with him and sometimes when the quads were less active I’d rest my head atop his round firm stomach while rubbing his underbelly gently to lessen the pressure. I’d help him up and he’d waddle around the house holding his heavy belly from underneath and picking it up to lessen the weight. At night he’d sit in bed and rub his belly for hours to relieve the aches and stretching until he knocked out but today he needed my assistance to reach every inch of his big round achy belly. The quads were heavy, each weighing approximately 8 pounds. “Yes please! Ugh I can only rub so much myself. Please be gentle… ohh ooof… my belly is feeling especially heavy and sensitive today.” He held his under belly and picked it up to relieve the weight of it for a few seconds and then let go and as it plopped back down it jiggled and the babies again kicked and squirmed in protest. I took the oil in my hands and eagerly walked over to his immense gut. I started with rubbing his outie belly button and then went to the top of his mound and ran my hands up and down the middle of his big pregnant stomach. His moans and grunts are what I really wanted to hear so I ignored his direction about being gentle and rigorously rubbed the sides of this big belly with a moderate amount of pressure. It was softer than it looked so I was able to really get in there. “Ooohhh it hurts… ugghh… but it feels so good…don’t stop…. keep rubbing… ohhh the babies hate it…. ohhh wow ughhhng” he moaned and grunted in pain and pleasure. I enjoyed rubbing this big ball of a belly until his tight skin absorbed all the oil. “How was that?” I said as I gave the last rub and took one hand away and gave him a couple pats in the middle of his belly followed by a playful slap at the top of his ginormous ball gut. “That felt amazing. But… ooof..Babies didn’t like it from the looks of it” the quads kicked and made his belly bounce and sway and jiggle. "Ahh! Oh! Ooof… oh… I think it’s time" he screamed in pain as he held his now tightening ball gut. “Time for what !? They’re coming? Was I too rough???” "I don’t know but I feel my belly tightening up! Ahhh!“ He roared in agony. I didn’t know how to deliver! Wtf was I supposed to do? So I stripped his pants off and helped him lay down on the carpet. He held his big belly and clenched at the side and under of his giant mound in pain. His belly was tightening up. I gave it a quick poke and it was hard as a rock. Suddenly I heard a gush of liquid. His water broke. “Help me!!! Tell me when to push! Oh god please son you’ve gotta deliver the quads!ahhh ohhh..! ” he screamed. I took a look and could see the first head crowning. “You’re crowning! Push! Push now! Hard!” "I can’t! It’s too much pressure it hurts!“ So I helped him push. I pressed down as hard as I could on his big hard stomach full of life until I could feel the first of the babies. I helped push them all out one…by…one.

[otomehoneyybearr]

The Day I Made a Friend

Book of memories Chapter 2

Keith & Kagari

Ch1 | Ch3 | Ch4 | My First Dorayaki

*Warning: Kagari chokes Keith

*Fixed typos

Kagari deftly picked up a practice sword with his foot and pointed its tip at Keith.

Kagari: "First, a warm-up. Ready your sword."

Kagari: "—Begin."

Keith: "...!"

In the blink of an eye, Kagari closed the distance and brought the practice sword down towards Keith's head, which he barely managed to block.

Keith swung his sword with enough force to blow Kagari away and launched a relentless series of attacks, leaving no room for gaps.

However, Kagari, with an expression as calm as ever, effortlessly deflected everything, as if he felt no weight.

Despite Keith being on the offensive, the situation turned against him with just a single step from Kagari closing the distance.

The continuous clash of practice swords reflected the growing frustration on Keith's face.

Kagari: "I've seen enough of your swordsmanship. Now, let's see your skills in hand-to-hand combat."

Keith: "Ah…!"

Kagari kicked Keith's practice sword away.

Without any mercy to regain his stance, Kagari aimed a punch at Keith's face, and when he blocked it, a kick targeted his abdomen.

Kagari's swift attacks allowed no chance for counterattack, making even a blink dangerous.

Keith: "Ugh, I can't land a hit at all."

Kagari: "That's to be expected."

Kagari: "Your basics in both swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat are solid. You don’t have any critically wasted movements."

Kagari: “But everything you do is half-hearted. Just before you attack, you waste your energy, halving the power of your attacks."

Keith: "I didn't realize…"

Kagari: "Have you ever killed someone, Keith?"

Keith: "N-No, I haven't."

Kagari: "I see. Not yet."

Kagari's large, emerald eyes looked up at the sky thoughtfully.

Kagari: "Most people don't want to hurt others. So they unconsciously hold back..."

Kagari: "..."

Keith: "...? …Sir ――whoa!?"

Keith's legs were swept out from under him, and he fell hard on his backside, unable to break his fall.

As he hurried to get up, Kagari pinned him down, making it impossible to move.

Kagari: "Maybe you'd learn faster if you had a near-death experience."

Keith: "Wh-...ugh...I… can't breathe..."

Kagari's small hands tightened around Keith's neck.

Keith struggled, desperately trying to pry Kagari's hands off with his nails, but it was futile against the strength of a skilled assassin.

The grip only tightened until...

Kagari: "...Oh."

Keith: ".........."

Kagari: "...I overdid it."

He released his grip from the unconscious Keith.

Releasing his grip, Kagari watched as Keith lay unconscious. While Keith instinctively held back in his attacks, Kagari had a hard time controlling his own strength.

Kagari: "Keith."

He called Keith's name several times, but there was no response.

Kagari: "I was told not to hold back, and that if I deemed him hopeless, I could kill him—but this is troublesome."

Kagari: "...... Oh, I know..."

After a brief moment of contemplation, Kagari looked down at Keith again.

Kagari: "If you don't wake up, I'll strangle your brother nex――!"

Keith suddenly grabbed Kagari by the collar, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Whether Kagari's words triggered something or not, Keith had regained consciousness and headbutted Kagari with all his might.

Keith: "Even if it is was joke, there are things you shouldn’t say."

Keith: "If you ever lay a hand on my brother, I'll never... ever forgive you."

The gentle eyes from earlier were now filled with rage, glaring at Kagari. The intensity of his gaze was enough to intimidate even an adult, showing just how important his brothers were to him.

But the anger didn't last long. Keith's face turned pale, and deep wrinkles appeared on his forehead.

Keith: "Ugh…my head… it hurts. I feel sick… everything's spinning."

Kagari: "That's because you headbutted incorrectly. You should lie down."

Keith: "Right…um, I'm sorry for headbutting you."

Kagari: "…I'm sorry too."

Keith: "Huh?"

Kagari: "I overdid it. And what I had said was too far."

Kagari: "You really care about your brother, don't you?"

Keith's eyes dropped, and he nodded slightly.

Keith: "He considers a failure like me, his brother."

Keith: "I... I want to do anything for him, and I'll work hard for him."

Keith: "I'd gladly give my life for him. That's how important he is to me."

Kagari: "...I see."

After gently stroking his red-stoned earing, Kagari spoke.

Kagari: "Right now, you’re very weak."

Keith: "...Yes."

Kagari: "But you can become strong, if you have the will."

Kagari: "It's a short period, but while I'm here, I'll do everything I can to make you strong."

Kagari: "Not because the King of Jade asked me to, but because I want to."

Kagari: "So... once again, I ask for your cooperation."

Keith: "Oh... th-thank you! Please take care of me!"

Keith, who had never done it before, sat down and bowed his head to Kagari, who was sitting formally on the ground.

Although they didn't know much about each other and were still feeling their way around, in this moment, the distance between their hearts shrank just a little.

....

The next day — the training Kagari devised for Keith was so rigorous that even adults would flee from it.

Kagari: "First, we'll strengthen your basic physical endurance."

Kagari: "Run from here to the mountain peak, grab a flag, and come back. Ten sets."

Keith: "Yes Sir!"

Kagari: "Next, climb the cliff to strengthen your abs, lats, and core. Ten sets."

Keith: "Y-yes Sir!"

Kagari: "Today, you’ll swim to that very isolated island over there. Ten sets."

Keith: "…Y-yes Sir."

Kagari: "Next is reflex and explosiveness training."

Kagari: "For the next hour, dodge my attacks. Then, an hour of striking drills. Ten sets."

Keith: "…Yes Sir."

Naturally, for the overly gentle Keith, it was a hellish experience that pushed him to his mental and physical limits, but he never complained.

Keith: "Ugh, sniff… thank you, very much."

Kagari: "Yeah, good job."

But after training, Keith would often wipe his red eyes furiously in front of Kagari, desperately trying to hold back his tears.

Kagari: "You’re weird."

Keith: "Huh?"

Prev | Next

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[universallychaoticpan]

Hello! How about Chuuya, Dazai and Ranpo taking a bath with the reader?

Ugh taking baths- I fucking love it. I didn't know if you wanted hdc or what so I hope this works. :))

A full experience, ok?

Babe, you're gonna be so spoiled.

I'm talking candles, rose petals, champagne- the whole deal. I can see Chuuya making it a weekly ritual for the two of you.

The dude works for the damn mafia for gods sake; if he loves you, you're getting the best he can offer and then some.

If you'd like, I feel like Chuuya would enjoy washing your hair. I can see the act soothing him; and it does the same for you.

///

The air was warm, the lights had been replaced by candles and their lavender scented fire. The cool stone of your bathtub was slippery on your skin, but as water cascaded down your back, you never felt more peaceful. Chuuya's work was meticulous and flawless; like everything else he did, he did it as if to perfect. You sighed as his hands began rubbing circles into your shoulders, releasing a week's worth of stress and exhastion.

"You work too hard, love," he murmured. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder making your lips curve into a smile he could only sense.

"I could say the same to you," you chuckled. "But I'm enjoying this too much to argue with you."

"Then my job is done."

"Yes, it is," you smiled. Holding one hand in place where it sat on your shoulder, you lightly pressed your lips against it. "Just enjoy this with me."

"Oh, doll, haven't I told you," he grinned mischievously. "You flash that smile once and I die a happy man."

Baths with him go one of two ways. Either it's very soft and romantic, or it's very soft and romantic which leads to other things.

Either way, bet on him wanting to touch you at all times.

I can see him being a fan of you sitting against his chest so he can hold you. Or just enjoying the weight of your body on him.

Will use lotion as an excuse to touch you. (Doesn't really get why there are so many, but loves smelling them all.)

Best part is holding you after though. Likes burying his nose into your hair and holding you so close or leaving little kisses on the top of your head as you fall asleep.

///

He could feel the rhythms of your heart beat under his fingers, and smiled against your neck when he felt it quicken. He relished how it began to pound, betraying you when he slid your hair over one shoulder, exposing your dew-studded skin to the air.

"Even now," he whispered, "you still fall apart at my touch?"

You sighed, the sound airy, breathy and so melodic. "You sound shocked, my love." Looking up through your lashes at him, you stole his breath when he turned your face to his. You leaned in close, closer, until the only sound was the gentle ripples of the rose scented water and your shallow, ready breathing. "You shouldn't be so surprised," you whispered, eyes on his lips. "you've done a terrible thing to me, you know."

"Yeah? And what would that be darling?"

You smirked, pulling away. "Oh come now; where's the fun in me just telling you?"

He knew you saw the way his breath hitched. You knew he saw the way your eyes gleamed as you moved to kiss him again. And you both knew that the heat you felt when your lips met wasn't just the water.

There are sweets involved

Come on, it's Ranpo for Christ sake- and any relaxation time must come with his special touch.

I can see him very intently studying all the products you have just for this type of situation and then grilling you about what they're for.

Yeah, he's a genius, but he's also a little shit (look at that smirk and tell me he isn't,) but he also just likes hearing you talk.

///

Ranpo's nose wrinkled as he held up a bottle. "Lavender epsom salt?"

"Relaxes your muscles and the scent is a natural sleep aid."

"Body milk?"

"Softening and moisturizing."

"Who puts milk on themselves anyway," he muttered. "Rose oil?"

"Oh, that one just smells nice," you giggled.

"So this is where your paycheck is going huh?" Even through the steam his smirk was clear as day.

"Oh shut up, you spend all your money on sweets anyway. It's a miracle we can afford rent."

"Speaking of," he sang, "close your eyes!"

You sighed, but obliged him. "You're gonna make me do this every time aren't you?"

"Yup, that's the game," he chirped. "Closed!!"

"Yeah yeah you big baby, they're closed," you laughed. "Now give me the chocolate before I lose the rest of my patience with you."

Suddenly the air on your bare shoulders felt much colder as you felt him leaning in.

"So impatient, my dear y/n...someone should teach you some manners."

The chocolate was sweet - even you couldn't fault his taste- but that didn't stop you from rolling your eyes into the back of your head once they opened.

"You," you murmured, placing a hand fondly against his cheek, "are so lucky I love you." You were joking really, a teasing smile on your mouth, but you could have sworn you heard his voice just louder than the soft lapping of the scented water.

"You've got yourself a lucky bastard then."

[justlemmeadoreyou]

hiii!!!! so, I have a request. Harry and reader are from the school's marching band and they're kind of besties and they like each other but are too afraid to say it. (you can change it if you want but I imagined them as trumpet player!H and clarinet player!reader). You can also write about an upcoming competition but only if you want, this part is just another suggestion. (I've been so excited about this because I play the clarinet and I'm always making scenarios in my mind of what it would be like if this was real.) Im sorry if it got a little confusing, I tend to mix things up a bit when I'm writing.

Hold on to me

i felt so many things while writing this. thank you for requesting this, it was so beautiful. hope you like this 😭

Words: 2k

Warnings: Kissing, LOADS of fluff~!!!

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The sun dipped low on the school football field, leaving you and Harry as the last echoes of music lingered in the air. The rest of the marching band had headed home, leaving behind the fatigue from hours of practice for the upcoming competition.

"Ugh, my lips are so sore from playing all day," you groaned, setting down your clarinet and massaging your mouth.

Harry stretched his hands, replying, "I know, right? My fingers feel like they've gone numb from all the trumpet playing."

Both of you flopped onto the field, gazing up at the darkening sky. Staying back after practice had become a ritual for you two, a time to talk and unwind. Over the years, your shared love for music had forged a deep friendship.

"So, what do you think our chances are at the competition next week?" you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I think we've got a pretty good shot. Our band's been putting in the work," Harry replied with confidence.

"Yeah, but you know how competitive the other schools can be," you added, a hint of worry in your voice.

"Don't worry, we've got this. And even if we don't win, I still have the best duet partner," Harry said, and you smiled.

Your connection had always carried a playful tone, but neither of you had taken it beyond that. The fear of jeopardizing your friendship held you back. What you had was precious.

"Speaking of duets, have you started practicing the piece for the competition?" you asked, steering the conversation away, so you don't think about how perfect his hair looks.

"I have, but I think it would sound better if we practiced together," Harry suggested.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Fine, but only if you promise to stop playing random notes and messing me up."

"I can't make any promises," Harry laughed, picking up his trumpet and getting into position.

You followed suit, and soon the field resonated with the harmony of your instruments. As the notes flowed, a sense of calm and joy enveloped you both. In perfect sync, each note blended seamlessly.

"Wow, we sound amazing together," you said, taking a break to catch your breath.

"That's because we make a great team," Harry replied, grinning at you.

You couldn't help but smile back, warmth spreading through your chest. Playing with Harry was always a joy, but tonight felt different. Maybe it was the setting sun casting a golden light, or maybe it was the adoration in Harry's eyes.

. . .

You stand in front of the mirror, adjusting your marching band uniform for the umpteenth time. The crisp white and black fabric hugs your body perfectly, making you feel confident and ready for the upcoming competition. Your instrument, a sleek clarinet, rests against your shoulder, its familiar weight bringing a sense of comfort.

As you make your way to the band room, you can feel the excitement and nervous energy buzzing around you. The sound of instruments being tuned and chatter fills the air, and you can't help but smile. This is where you feel most at home - with your marching band family.

And then you see him. Harry. He's standing with his trumpet in hand, a small smile on his face as he talks to some of the other brass players. You feel your heart flutter at the sight of him, and you can't help but wonder if he feels the same way about you.

Maybe. Maybe not.

You join the rest of the band for warm-ups and steal glances at Harry whenever you can. He catches your eye and winks at you, causing your cheeks to flush and your heart to race. You can't help but smile back, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity with him.

Your band walks out soon, getting on the field and taking proper positions. The instructor perfects it, and he guides you as you begin playing.

As the competition begins, the whole team plays their hearts out, perfectly in sync with each others. The music fills you, and you can't help but feel grateful for this moment. You know that this is your last competition together, as both of you will be heading off to different colleges next year.

But you push those thoughts to the back of your mind, focusing on the present. And as the final notes of your performance ring out, you can't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. Everyone smiles as it ends, and after everyone is back backstage, you meet him. You both share a high five, both of you grinning from ear to ear.

"I think we outdid ourselves" You say, and he nods, taking a couple bottles from the table and giving one to you.

As the awards ceremony begins, everyone anxiously waits for the results. You have your fingers crossed, praying to god that you win.

And when your band is announced as the first-place winner, everyone jumps up in excitement, hugging each other tightly. This was it - the moment you had all been working towards. Months of grueling practices, early morning rehearsals, and late-night performances had finally paid off. Harry hugs you, and the hug lasts long, and you think it's definitely because it's one of the last times you're doing that.

He pulls back, and there's a huge grin on his face. You rarely see him smile so big.

And then, something happens.

Maybe it was the way your lips were so close, or it was the way you were glowing with happiness.

Harry kisses you.

And it's everything you could've asked for.

It's short, but definitely longer than a peck. He pulls back quickly, realizing what he has done.

The look on his face is apologetic-he's so sad and guilty as he realizes what he has done. But he doesn't have to be.

You wanted it too.

"Shit. I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't-"

You place a finger on his lips, silencing him. His eyes widen, and you lean closer, your lips to his ear as you whisper-"I liked it"

And you turn around, walking away. Leaving him confused.

. . .

After the competition, the band gathers for some celebratory drinks. You're all 18, but the bar takes an embarrassing amount of time to check your IDs, and Harry thinks he's going to go mad. He wants to see you, pull you to a secluded place, and explain himself to you.

Finally, they let everyone in, and after ordering one or two rounds, everyone's loosening up. Harry finds you quickly, pulling you by your wrist and taking you to the alleyway outside. He pushes you against the wall, the drink sloshing in around the glass as you look at him.

"Harry-what-"

"What did you mean you liked it?"

He asks, and he looks so worried. You smile, pushing a strand of hair off his forehead, and easing the nerve popping up.

"Easy, curly. I meant that okay-" you sigh, looking up at him and then pushing your gaze downwards. You've liked him for so long, and now you have the chance to admit it, and why is it so hard?

"I-I like you, Harry. Since the last year," you admit, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you realize how close he really is, so close you could just get on your toes and-

"You like me?"

"Yeah. I like you. And when you kissed me, I-It was like a dream come true"

His face softens, and he eases down. His lips curled into a soft smile, the same dimples on show that you adored.

"I thought I crossed a line and that you would be mad at me" he admitted. You slid your hands to his cheeks, replying, "You didn't"

He sighs and takes a step back. You wish he would kiss you again. You look up at him expectantly, and he looks down at you, your eyes full of adoration for him.

"What?" he asks.

"Kiss me again? Please?" you ask, giving him puppy eyes.

And who could say no to that?

He doesn't need to be asked twice, and his hand comes to rest on the wall beside you. You grin as he kisses you for a second time, and it's even better. His lips move softly against yours, his tongue pushing past your lips as he pushes closer.

It's perfect-the warmth his body is radiating makes you feel at ease. When you're both breathless, he pulls back, his cheeks flushed red, and lips swollen.

"God, I can't stop kissing you" he admits.

"Me too" you confess.

"Take a walk?" he asks, holding his hand out. For you to hold.

"Yes," you reply happily.

You're walking down a road, and you have to idea where you both are. It's 6 pm, so you could figure that out later.

"You know, I got in"

You turn, face full of surprise and happiness.

"No way!" you exclaim, and he nods, "I did, yeah. And I'm getting a music scholarship too. It's perfect"

"Harry, that's wonderful." you stop, holding his hands in yours, "I'm so happy for you"

"Thanks, hehe" he smiles, "And did you get in?"

"I didn't get the reply yet. Two are due tomorrow, and the rest after that"

"I'm sure you'll get in"

"I hope so"

It's silent after that, and the thought of going to different colleges makes you sad.

"We're not going to the same colleges" you admit after a while, a hint of sadness in your voice.

"I know, it sucks"

You make your way to a bus stop, and stand there, waiting for a bus so you could get someplace you know the routes of.

You're both lost in thought. It's some of the last times you're spending together. The last talks, walks, the last of everything.

"You know, we could make a pact"

Your eyes perk up, and he leads you to a bench nearby. You both sit down, facing each other.

"What-what do you mean?"

"That we would find our way back to each other"

You're still looking at him confused.

"Look, we have no idea where life's going to take us. After college, it's all a blur, but if we promise that we will find each other after we've graduated-" his voice lowers, "-I'll have something to hold on to"

You want to cry. There's tears on the back of your eyes, threatening to spill. He's so sincere-it hurts to see him like this.

"Harry-" you pull him in for a hug, your face resting on his shoulder. You breathe in, taking in the way he smells. You want to burn it to the back of your head so that you never forget it. At least till you meet again.

"I promise-" you pull back, taking his hands in yours, "-I promise, Harry. We'll call and talk and text each other, and we'll definitely find our way back."

He smiles, and a tear escapes his left eye. You smile too, and soon, it's the sound of the bus that makes you pull him off the bench. You run as fast as you can and finally manage to climb the bus, walking hand in hand as you sit next to each other.

You glance at Harry sitting beside you, and his presence brings you comfort. You intertwine your fingers with his, silently vowing to hold onto this moment, this feeling, for as long as you can.

You lean your head on his shoulder, finding solace in the warmth of his presence and the shared understanding that distance can't diminish what you mean to each other. It never will, and you will see him again.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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