#nearly collapsed on the spot her voice is so deep and perfect

[chaeram]

almost every va has also been in either hsr, gnshn or crk wow

[withwritersblock]

Caffeine

~Caffeine by Jack Kays~

Author's Note: Fun fact I saw Jack Kays in concert and he played this song for the first time at my concert before it was released. Almost sobbed when I heard it. As always italics are flashbacks Summary: Luke Hughes proposes to Y/N Warnings: idk? Word Count: 2,038 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

The ring has been in his pocket for nine weeks. He’s taken it with him on away games and carried it with him wherever he went in case he wanted to ask. Despite having a specific plan to ask her at his lake house. It wasn’t because it was a special place in his heart, it was because of how gorgeous the place looked during sunsets and sunrises.

When she’s visiting with them in Michigan it was one of their favorite activities to sit on the roof and watch the sun rise. They never really got a lot of sleep while they were there, so they’d watch the sunset while on the boat with his family and friends. 

Tonight was no different as they were all on the boat together watching the orange light up the sky and blend into the beautiful lake. Quinn and Jack were cracking jokes as Y/N was laying in Luke’s lap as he ran his fingers through her hair. The ring box was back in his room in the lake house. It wasn’t the right time, except right now, there was no right time. Nothing felt perfect. 

Leaning his head down, he brought his lips close to her ear, “Hey,” he whispered. She tilted her head back, meeting his gaze. “Are you tired?” he asked as he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. She hummed as a reply as she tucked her head back against his chest.

“Take a nap,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. She took a deep breath as he continued running his fingers through her hair soothingly. 

During his study hall, students in his high school were allowed to roam the school. They had a little freedom on where they wanted to do their assignments. Luke’s favorite spot was the auditorium where the theater performances were held. 

It was always extra quiet, dark, and he was always alone. Until one random Tuesday his sophomore year of high school where he was sitting on the floor all the way in the back.

He was typing up his essay about The Great Gatsby when he heard a voice singing. He lifted his gaze up to see the gorgeous girl pacing the stage and singing a song he didn’t know. It was a song from a musical, he concluded by the way her voice hit the notes. 

She wasn’t trying, he could tell but the way her voice was so effortlessly beautiful had his heart beating fast. He delicately placed his computer beside him as he slowly stood up. He didn’t recognize her, he knew everyone in the school. Or so he thought because he’s never seen her before.

She continued to sing as she was walking off of the stage until she lifted her gaze from the floor to see Luke.  She screamed as she slammed her hand against her chest. “Oh my god! What the hell are you doing!?” she shouted as her heart began racing fast.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, oh my-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you!” he let out panickedly as her scream nearly made him collapse. “I didn’t know you were in here,” he mumbled. 

“What the hell were you doing sitting on the floor!?” she shouted as she brushed her hair away from her face. She took a deep breath.

“I spend my study hall here! No one is normally in here. I’m sorry,” he let out as he met her gaze, it was dark but her eyes were shining brightly.

She took a hesitant breath as she dropped her hand from her chest, “I spend my study hall in here too, I didn’t know someone else was in here,” she mumbled. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tilted his head to the side.

“Wait, so you’ve been in here all year?” Luke questioned and she nodded slowly. “Well this is awkward,” he mumbled.

“I rehearse here all of the time, how did you not know I was here?” she asked suspiciously. 

“I normally wear my headphones at full blast but I forgot them in my brother’s car this morning,” he mumbled as he smiled softly.

Luke was standing in his room, staring at the ring box in his hand. He spent every day staring at the ring trying to picture it on her hand. He always went back and forth if the ring was the right one.

Ellen knocked on his door, he quickly shoved the ring box into his pocket as she pushed the door open. “Hi honey,” she mumbled as she stepped inside, Luke took in a sharp breath as he pulled the box back out of his pocket. 

He flipped the box open again to stare at it. He slowly sat down on the bed as she sat down beside him. “It’s beautiful, Luke, stop overthinking it,” she mumbled as she stared towards his features. He pulled his lips between his teeth as he met his mother’s gaze.

“What if she says no?” he asked barely above a whisper. 

Ellen pulled her head back as she shook her head, “She won’t,”

“You don’t know that, there’s always a chance she will say no,” he countered as he looked back towards the ring.

“She loves you,” she mumbled as she wrapped her arm around his back pulling her youngest son into a side hug. “And you love her, all you have to do is ask.”

“That’s easier said than done,” he let out with a chuckle. After a few moments of silence he asks, “Do you think we’re too young? Like, is it too early to ask?” 

Ellen paused for a few moments as she took a deep breath, “You’ve been together for over five years, that’s long enough to know if you want to marry someone. Just because you are twenty years old doesn’t mean you don’t know what love means. You’ve spent five years loving the same girl, that shows that you are mature enough to want to ask the question.” 

He smiled as he met his mom’s gaze as he nodded slightly, “I knew I wanted to marry her the first time I met her,” he let out as he pressed his lips together, “I don’t think I ever told you that,” he mumbled.

“No, no you didn’t,” she let out as she rested her head on his shoulder, “I’m proud of you,” she mumbled. He smiled softly as he took a deep breath in.

She was standing at her locker, swapping out her textbooks when Luke came up behind her and leaned against the locket beside her. She jumped as she placed her hand against her chest, “Why do you always feel the need to scare me?” she asked while laughing, she slammed the locker shut as they began walking towards the theater together.

She rehearses for her choir and musical performances while he sits and studies for his exams. He shrugged his shoulders as he tightened his backpack. He bit his bottom lip as he fought off the smile on his lips. “What are you thinking, Luke?” she asked as she licked her lips nervously. 

“There’s that ice cream place a few streets away from school, I was wondering if you wanted to go after school,” he asked shyly. She squinted her eyes towards him and smiled widely.

“Are you asking me out?” she questioned, already knowing the answer based on the redness of his cheeks.

“Yeah, to ice cream,” he mumbled as he pushed the door open to the theater, letting her walk in first. “Where some people may consider it a date,” he muttered. 

“Oh and are you considered some people because I’m some people,” she teased as she leaned her body against the brick wall beside them. He smirked as he glanced towards her lips. 

“Oh I’m definitely some people,” he said as he took a step towards her, his gaze lingering on her lips. He thought about kissing her like he’s wanted to since the first time he met her. 

She leaned towards him kissing him urgently, it was her first kiss ever. He quickly reciprocated the kiss, pushing her against the wall. He pulled away as he rested his forehead against hers, “Wow,” he mumbled as his heart was racing. His mind was in shambles as she was only an inch away from him.

It was six in the morning, the sky was slowly becoming more blue as the hues of orange were still vibrant in the sky. It was cold enough for them to wear hoodies, an easy way for him to hide the ring in his pocket. 

The words were circulating his mind as if he was running seven miles on six hundred miligrams of caffeine. His heart slapping hard against his chest, his head aching as his hands were shaking. He was terrified she would say no. But he knew she had absolutely no reason to. She wouldn’t have been with him for as long as she was if she didn’t want to marry him. He knew that.

Her head rested on his chest as he was tightening his grip around the little box in his pocket. He tilted his head to the side pressing his lips to the top of her head. She hummed against his chest as she ran her hand along his chest. 

“I love the city but nothing beats this,” she mumbled as her gaze admired the ripples in the water as the orange casted a gorgeous view against the water. He took a deep breath as he slowly forced her to sit up with him. 

She furrowed her eyebrows as she brushed her hair away from her face as she looked towards Luke. He put both of his hands into his pocket, fiddling with the box as he looked deeply into her sleepy eyes

“Did I ever tell you that the second I heard your voice, I knew you were going to be the love of my life?” he asked. 

Her lips curled upward slightly as she titled her head to the side. “No you haven’t,” she mumbled.

He took another deep breath as he dropped his gaze towards his lap, “I’ve tried finding the right words and how to perfectly say this but I don’t think there is a perfect way,” he paused. 

“I know we’re young and can’t even legally drink yet,” he chuckled, “I mean you moved to Jersey with me without giving it a second thought. That made me realize how all in you were with me. I’ve spent five years in love with you,” he met her gaze and saw the tears forming in her eyes, her smile was wide, “I know we’re young and people are going to have their opinions but-” he pulled the box from his pocket, opened it and showed it to her, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes-” she let out excitedly as she lunged towards him wrapping him in a hug, he collapsed on his back. He laughed as he shut the box, securing the ring, as he tightly wrapped his arms around the center of her back. He squeezed her tightly to his chest. “I’m so in love with you,” she whispered in his ear before she leaned towards him, kissing him softly. 

“I was worried you were going to say no,” he mumbled as she pulled away, she shook her head dramatically. 

“There is not a single part of me that doesn’t want to marry you,” she let out before she kissed him again. He delicately placed the ring box into his pocket before he rested his hands onto her hips. “Put the ring on my finger,” she mumbled as she sat up, straddling his body. 

He excitedly reached into his pocket again to pull the box out. He pulled the ring from the holder and took a hold of her left hand. He slowly slid the ring on and it fit perfectly. She stared at it and started tearing up again. “It’s so beautiful,” she mumbled. He hummed as he stared towards her admiring her frame as the sunrise was behind her, illimuting her already gorgeous frame.

[thronesoldaccido]

The World We Could Have Created

Pairing: Kyle “gaz” Garrick x Fem!Reader

TW: Pregnancy, death, Angst, Grief, Mentions of loss, Hurt /no comfort

WC: 2.6K

(I just wanted to write something sad)

The night was still, the kind of quiet that only comes in the deep hours when the world is asleep and even the wind seems to rest. A soft, silvery moonlight spilled through the windows of the modest suburban home, casting gentle shadows that played across the walls. In the bedroom, the only sound was the slow, rhythmic breathing of two people entwined in sleep, their bodies close, their hearts beating in time with one another.

Kyle Garrick lies in bed, his arm draped protectively over you, his wife. In the dim light her face was serene, a soft smile curving her lips even in sleep. It was a face he knew better than his own, every line and freckle, every expression that had captured his heart all those years ago when they first met.

Back then, he had been a young man full of ambition and promise, studying hard to make something of himself, to build a future he could be proud of. You had been his anchor, the steady presence that grounded him, the light that guided him through the darkest times. They had been inseparable, two halves of the same whole, moving through life in perfect harmony. Kyle had known that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

They had done everything right, everything by the book, they had taken their time building their relationship on a solid foundation before taking the next step. Marriage had come naturally a beautiful ceremony surrounded by friends and family; vows exchanged with tears of joy in their eyes. It had been the happiest day of kyles life, standing at the altar, looking into your perfect eyes, knowing that they were about to embark on a journey together, hand in hand.

After marriage, they had talked about starting a family, about the joy of bringing a child into the world and raising them together. It was something they both wanted, something they had dreamed about during late-night conversations and quiet moments of reflection. And when you told him you where pregnant, Kyle had felt a joy so profound it had nearly brought him to his knees. It was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever worked for, coming together in that one perfect moment.

They had been so careful, so diligent. The nursery had been painted, the crib assembled with meticulous care, tiny clothes folded and put away in drawers. Every detail had been attended to, every step taken with the kind of love and devotion that only parents-to-be could understand. They have spent hours together, planning, dreaming, imagining the life they would give their child, the home they would create.

If only that was possible

It had started as a small spot of blood, barely noticeable, a mere hint that something might be amiss. But soon, the spotting had grown worse, accompanied by a sharp, stabbing pain that had caused you to collapse in your own home. The memory of it haunted kyle, replaying in his mind like a nightmare that wouldn’t let go- the way you had crumpled to the floor, your hands clutching your belly, the fear in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He had acted on instinct, scooping you up in his arms and rushing to the hospital, his heart pounding with terror, his mind a whirlwind of prayers and pleas.

The drive to the hospital had been a blur, his mind filled with the sound of your laboured breathing, the feel of your body trembling in his arms. He had begged the doctors to save you, to do anything they could.

The nurse looked up, meeting his gaze with a calmness that seemed almost surreal against the backdrop of his frantic emotions, she offered a gentle smile and for a brief fleeting moment kyle felt a sliver of hope pierce through his terror. “She is in stable condition, Mr. Garrick” she softly said, her voice soothing like a balm to his frayed nerves. “she’s in room 122”

Relief crashed over him, he released a shaky breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, nodding gratefully at the nurse before turning down the hallway she had indicated. Each step felt heavy, weighted with the anticipation and anxiety that had been building since he arrived. But the thought of seeing you, of holding your hand, of hearing your voice. These thoughts drove him forward, propelling him through the sterile corridors.

The number on each door blurred as he passed them, his entire focus narrowing to one goal: reaching room 122. When he finally arrived, he paused, his hand hovering over the handle as if needing to steel himself for whatever could be on the other side. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was quiet, bathed in the soft, golden light of the early morning. It was a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind. And there, in the centre of it all, was you, sitting up in the hospital bed, your face radiant despite the exhaustion etched in her features. In your arms, you cradled a tiny, swaddled figure- so small so fragile.

Kyles breath caught in his throat. His heart swelled as he watched the scene before him the sound of your gentle laughter filling the room like music. Your eyes, so full of warmth and love, met his as you noticed him standing there. “Kyle” you whispered, voice tender and full of joy. The smile that spread across your face was like the sun breaking through clouds after a storm. You looked down at your daughter, then back up at him, your eyes sparkling with unshed tears “do you want to hold her?” you giggled softly, lifting the tiny bundle of joy just slightly. As if to introduce their newborn to the man who had been waiting so long to meet her.

For a moment, everything else faded away. Kyle felt a rush of emotions – overwhelming love, Pure happiness, and a profound sense of completeness. This was the life they had dreamed of, the life they had built together through years of love and commitment he stepped closer, his eyes fixed on the small, perfect face of his daughter and reached out to touch her soft cheek, his fingers trembling with awe and reverence, your hand found his, their fingers intertwining as they both gazed down at their child, the embodiment of their love.

But just as he was about to speak, it was gone. It was all gone. The warmth, the light, the laughter it was all gone. The image of you so vibrant and full of life, was gone. Kyle blinked and just like that he was back at the reception desk. “I’m sorry, sir….” The nurses voice trembled, each word landing like ablow to kyles chest, the pit of dread in his stomach widening until it felt as though it might swallow him whole  “ it says here she passed due to placental abruption.”

The world seemed to stop. Time, which had been rushing forward in a frantic blurt of anxiety and fear, suddenly slowed to a crawl. The nurses words echoed in his mind, the meaning clear but impossible to accept. Kyle stood there, rooted to the spot, as if the ground had opened up beneath him, threatening to drag him into an abyss from which there was no return. Everything he held dear – his hopes, his dreams, his future – shattered in an instant, leaving him feeling hollow and numb.

A single tear traced  a slow. Deliberate path down his cheek, the first sign of the storm brewing inside him. He had tried so hard to stay strong, to keep it together, but now, in the face of this unbearable truth, the fragile damn of composure he had clung to was beginning to crack, His hands, which had always been steady and strong, trembled uncontrollably as he forced himself to speak, his voice barely more than a whisper, “can.. can I see her...?” The nurse nodded; her eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrored his own. She turned and led him down a different hallway, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling the air, the silence of the hospital pressing in on him from all sides. Each step felt like an eternity, every fibre of his being screaming at him to turn and run, to escape this nightmare, but his feet carried him forward, one heavy step after another, towards the moment he had been dreading.

When they reached the room, the nurse paused, offering him one last glance of sympathy before gently pushing that door open. Kyle stood at the threshold, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in shallow uneven gasps. The frigid air from the room seeped into his bones, making his body feel as lifeless as his soul. He knew what awaited him inside, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him.

The room was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioner, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside him. On the bed, beneath a stark white sheet, lay.. you. For a moment, he could convince himself that you were just sleeping, that if he whispered your name, you would stir, your eyes would flutter open, and you would smile at him the way you always did. But the stillness of your body and the unnatural pallor of your skin, told a different story. The woman he loved, the woman he had planned to grow old with, was gone.

Kyles legs felt like they might give out beneath him as he approached the bed. His hands shook as he reached out, his fingers trembling as they brushed against the cold fabric of the sheet. He hesitated, his mind screaming at him to stop, to turn back, to run from this unbearable reality. But he couldn’t, he had to see you, had to say goodbye. With a deep shuddering breath, he pulled back the sheet, revealing your face. You looked peaceful, almost serene, as if you were merely asleep. But there was no mistaking the lifelessness in your features, the finality of death had claimed you. The sight of you like this, so still, so cold, was a knife twisting in his chest, cutting deeper with each passing second.

He buried his face in your chest, his sobs breaking free in the torrent of pain and anguish. He clung to you, his tears soaking through the fabric of your gown, as if somehow, by holding on tight enough, he could bring you back, could reverse the cruel fate that had stolen you away from him. But no amount of tears, no amount of pleading or praying, could change the reality that you were gone, and with you, the life you had dreamed of together. The dreams they had shared, the future they had planned, were now nothing more than cruel fantasies. He could still see the vision of you holding their daughter, the smile on your face as you introduced their newborn to him. It was now nothing more than a fading echo, a desperate attempt by his mind to cope with the unbearable truth.

Hours seemed to pass in that cold, sterile room, the silence closing in around him like a suffocating shroud. When he finally found the strength to pull himself away from you, to stand on trembling legs, he knew that this was his new reality: a life defined by loss, haunted by the memory of what could have been. The light in his world had been extinguished, leaving only darkness and the unbearable weight of grief.

The days that followed were a blur, each one bleeding into the next, marked only by the rituals of mourning. The funeral was arranged in a haze of numbness, Kyle moving through the motions as if in a dream. Friends and family gathered to pay their respects, their faces etched with sorrow , but their presence brought him no comfort. How could it? Nothing could fill the void left by your presence.

On the day of the funeral, the sky was overcast, heavy with unshed rain, as if even the heavens were mourning your loss. Kyle stood at the graveside, his body stiff with the effort of holding himself together. He watched as they lowered the casket into the ground, the finality of it crushing him. It was real now, you were truly gone, buried beneath the earth, and with you, all of the dreams they had shared. As the last of the dirt was shovelled onto your grave, something inside Kyle snapped. The grief, which had been a constant, gnawing pain in his chest, suddenly flared into something darker, something that threatened to consume him whole. He turned away from the grave, unable to bear the sight any longer, and walked back to the car, the faces of those around him blurring into a sea of meaningless condolences.

When he returned to their home, the emptiness was suffocating. Every corner, every piece of furniture, every photograph on the wall was a reminder of the life they had built together, a life that was now reduced to memories and what-ifs. The nursery, once filled with hope and anticipation, now felt like a tomb, a place where dreams had come to die.

In the days that followed, Kyle found solace in the bottom of a bottle. Alcohol became his constant companion, numbing the pain, dulling the sharp edges of his grief. He drank to forget, to escape the unbearable reality that you were gone, that the future they had planned was no more. But the alcohol also fuelled his anger, his frustration at the cruel hand fate had dealt him.

One night, in a drunken haze, Kyle stumbled into the nursery. The sight of the crib, the tiny clothes, the toys neatly arranged on the shelves—it was too much. The rage that had been simmering beneath the surface erupted, and he tore through the room, destroying everything in his path. The crib was smashed to pieces, the clothes ripped from their hangers, the toys hurled against the wall. By the time he was done, the nursery was in ruins, a reflection of the desolation in his heart.

He collapsed on the floor, surrounded by the wreckage of what had once been his hopes and dreams, and let the tears come. They were hot, bitter, and unrelenting, a flood of grief that left him exhausted and empty. The house, once filled with love and laughter, was now a silent, barren shell, and Kyle was left alone to face the darkness that had taken hold of his life.

In the weeks that followed, Kyle became a ghost of the man he had once been. He withdrew from the world, isolating himself from the people who cared about him. He couldn’t bear their pity, their well-meaning attempts to help him move on. How could they understand? How could anyone understand the depth of his loss, the gaping hole in his heart that nothing could fill?

The days blurred into one another, each one marked by the same routine: drink until the pain dulled, sleep, wake up, and do it all over again. But even in his drunken stupor, Kyle couldn’t escape the memories of you, of the life they had shared, of the future they had planned. Those memories haunted him, a constant reminder of what he had lost.

And so, he drifted through his days, lost in a sea of grief and alcohol, a man broken by loss, clinging to the shattered remnants of a life that had slipped through his fingers. The future, once so bright and full of promise, was now nothing more than a bleak, endless void. And in that void, Kyle was left to face the unbearable truth: that you were gone, and with you, the light in his world had been extinguish

[wanderingthroughsands]

VIII. If you don’t know where you are going…

Can you help me out, can you lend a hand? It’s safe to say that I’m stuck again Trapped between this life and the light I just can’t figure out how to make it right

– "Rain" by Creed

The first thing I saw upon opening my eyes was the face of Dreamlord, mere inches away from my own. My ears rang, and my entire body felt helpless, limp, stripped of any ability to move. Lord Morpheus gripped my shoulders firmly, kneeling before me on the marble floor, his endless gaze piercing through me. As my thoughts slowly began to return, and the palace surroundings sharpened, I noticed something in his face… fatigue. His brows were furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line. I felt his slow, deep breaths on my cheeks, and his strong hold on my arms, as though he wouldn’t allow me to collapse.

“Dreamlord,” I spoke weakly, letting our eyes meet. “Are you all right?”

He didn’t answer, just continued to gaze at me unflinchingly. With each passing second, my strength and awareness of what had happened returned, but I didn’t dare move even a fraction while he was so close to me. His grip loosened slightly, yet the intensity of his stare remained. His presence, nearer than ever before, awakened something new in me—something that nearly displaced the fear and anticipation I had long known.

“For a moment, I thought… I was certain… But you let me live. What happened?” I asked, almost in a whisper, afraid that careless words might disturb the extraordinary energy surrounding us.

“Something went wrong,” Dreamlord replied just as softly. “You weren’t supposed to feel that pain. Your power…”

“You didn’t take it from me?”

“My lord!”

Lucienne found us kneeling across from one another in the middle of the throne room, speaking in hushed tones, our closeness almost making us appear as one. At the sound of her voice, Dreamlord finally tore his gaze from mine and, standing, extended his hand to help me rise.

"Is everything all right?" Lucienne asked, concern in her voice as she stood beside me, facing Lord Morpheus. "Something happened in the Dreaming, my lord—something like a tremor, but it felt as if the very foundations of the realm were shaking."

"I attempted to extract a fragment of my Nightmare from Rebecca Surrey's existence, but..." He turned to the woman, and in the colorful light streaming through the stained glass windows, the exhaustion on his face was even more evident. "Her power would not submit to me. It attacked me."

"Attacked you...?" Lucienne's words faltered, and she cast a surprised glance in my direction. "Are you... unharmed, my lord?"

"That power..." Dreamlord continued, as if he hadn’t heard her question. "I cannot comprehend it, Lucienne. Even the Corinthian, my most perfected Nightmare, couldn’t fight me like that. It wanted to repel me, to wound me, without regard for the life of its bearer."

"How is that possible?" Lucienne's expression was already one of astonishment, yet somehow her brows rose even higher. "If Rebecca was born from the Nightmare..."

"...then why did she not yield to her creator, to Dream of the Endless? What have you done to preserve your power, Rebecca Surrey?" he turned his attention back to me, and once again, that familiar dark shadow settled over his sharp features.

"I..." I stammered as fear suddenly surged back into me, crashing like a wave. "I really, truly don’t know, Lord Morpheus."

"Mind that you are addressing King of the Dreaming, the Ruler of this realm, the Endless, Master of Dreams and Nightmares, of hope and of torment..." With each word, his voice, which could shake the very pillars of the universe, echoed more menacingly through the palace chamber. "I expect you to answer my question truthfully."

"I swear on my life," I said, remaining rooted to the spot, though every fiber of my being wanted to flee from the overwhelming force of his energy. "That I did nothing to defend my power. You know I was willing to give it up to you, Dreamlord."

We fell silent, locked in a gaze like predator and prey before the final battle. I could see the anger in his eyes, and he must have seen my fear, but surely he also saw my resolve. Like him, I couldn't understand why the power I had already resigned myself to losing refused to leave me. The attack on him had happened as if without my will, manifesting as pain in the deepest recesses of my being.

And Lord Morpheus, instead of continuing the fight, had spared me. He had spared me yet again.

"We must find out why Rebecca's power resists yours, my lord," Lucienne said cautiously after the silence had stretched on. "There is no record of her second parent in the Book of her history. If the Corinthian is indeed the father, as the traces he left suggest, perhaps he can help us understand..."

"I will not restore the Corinthian to the Dreaming, Lucienne," Dreamlord interrupted coldly. "He caused too much damage here and in the waking world."

Lucienne lowered her gaze for a moment.

"Then perhaps the fault lies with the Vortex?"

"The Vortex appeared years after Rebecca Surrey was born. And, like no Vortex before in millennia, it would not have been able to instill such power in a human child." He turned his gaze back to me, as if analyzing me from head to toe. I remained silent, waiting for him to pass his divine judgment, unaware of what might be brewing behind the unreadable facade of his face. "In recent times, I have presented you with many choices," he said at last. "You chose to surrender your power to me, yet I am unable to take it from you. You are something I cannot explain. And until I learn why your power opposed mine, I will have to keep you in my realm."

"Dreamlord," I responded, a surge of defiance rising within me at the cold, hollow look in his eyes. "You seek the truth about the origin of my power, and so do I. I would gladly help you in the search for answers... but you just cannot imprison me here."

The calm aura that surrounded him almost perpetually suddenly vanished. He stepped toward me, and as I lifted my gaze to meet his, he seemed larger and more powerful than ever before. Darkness enveloped his eyes, swallowed his features, and instead of the pale man I had once seen in the park just before the accident, I saw an infinite, dangerous night, slowly wrapping its tendrils around me.

He was no longer the person I had first encountered. He was the Endless. The Lord of the Dreaming. A being of unimaginable power.

"I have endured your defiance time and again, Rebecca Surrey," he spoke, his voice so deep and filled with rage that I felt it reverberate through my fingertips. "You dare to make demands of Dream of the Endless, and instead of destroying you the moment I found you, I try to fulfill them to save your fragile human life. So now, you will heed my demand."

"I wanted to give you my life," I whispered, struggling to catch my breath as my racing heart constricted my chest. "I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me."

"By defying me? Hiding within my Nightmares? Failing the purpose for which you were created?" He leaned in closer, and I stopped breathing altogether, staring into the dangerous darkness of the night he had become. "I know you could wake now and return to your world. But you won't do this. Not until I allow it. I need to hear it from you, Rebecca Surrey. I need you to promise that you will not leave the Dreaming until I give you permission."

I swallowed hard, fighting against the rising tide of fear. He was right, I actually could close my eyes and open them back in the waking world. I could slip away from the snares of the night that Lord Morpheus wove around me. I could leave him here, once more, and condemn myself to endless flight through Nightmares.

And yet...

"I promise not to leave, Dreamlord," I said quietly, my facial muscles tightening with each word. "Not until you give me permission."

The darkness vanished, and with it, so did Lord Morpheus. The throne room felt smaller, quieter as I finally took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to compose myself. Slowly, second by second, the colorful light from the stained-glass windows crept back into my awareness, and the thunderous pulse of blood in my ears began to fade. Only then did I also realize Lucienne was standing not far from me, silent and as unsettled as I was. My hands were still trembling as I wrapped them around my arms, trying to shake off the lingering chill within.

"Rebecca," Lucienne’s voice was gentle as she extended her hand toward me. "You can’t stay here. Come with me."

Lucienne led me to one of the deep, soft chairs in her library and allowed me to sit in silence for several minutes, while she busied herself organizing books. I watched her, first absentmindedly, then with increasing focus as she carefully sorted through the volumes and arranged them in neat rows on the vast wooden shelves. Her movements were steady, full of certainty and calm, as though she knew her library as intimately as a mother knows her child. Watching her soothed me, slowly dissolving the fear that had taken root in my chest.

And though she seemed absorbed in her task, I knew she was waiting for me to be ready to speak.

"Lucienne..." I finally began, and she immediately turned from her books to offer me a warm, kind look. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"Each of us in the Dreaming has been where you are now," she smiled and sat down in the chair opposite mine, her voice gentle and soothing. "Lord Morpheus has been the great ruler of this realm since the dawn of time. But since that very same dawn, he has never taken well to defiance."

"Matthew told me the exact same thing," I muttered, sinking deeper into my seat.

"I’ve served Lord Morpheus longer than you could ever imagine," Lucienne continued with a soft chuckle. "And more than anyone, I know that everything he does is for the safety and well-being of the Dreaming. Don’t judge him too harshly, Rebecca. From your first encounter, he has been trying to protect the life you hold so dear."

"I know," I sighed, though I couldn’t quite shake the edge of stubbornness in my voice.

"You are a bit alike, you and Lord Morpheus," she said, sounding amused. "He’s just as stubborn and just as unwilling to let others decide his fate. But trust me, if he didn’t care about your safety, he wouldn’t ask you to stay in his palace, where nothing can harm you."

"I don’t think it’s my safety that concerns Dreamlord so much," I replied, rolling my eyes, though Lucienne’s smile only grew warmer.

"Then why didn’t he fight back against your power when it attacked him?" she asked, her tone probing but kind. "You don’t trust him, and I can’t entirely blame you for that... but Lord Morpheus rarely cares for human life as much as he does for yours. Those emotions you just witnessed—they weren’t a sign of indifference. They were the opposite of that."

The opposite?

"Lucienne," I leaned slightly towards her, clasping my hands on my knees. "I want to help him understand why he can’t take my power. But here, in the Dreaming, I feel helpless. I made him a promise, and if I were to break it..." He would hate me—that’s what I intended to say, but the words just wouldn’t pass my lips.

"He will eventually turn to you for help, I’m sure of it," Lucienne said, drifting off into thought, as if a distant memory had resurfaced. "He must, if he wishes to reclaim the power you now possess. But for now, you should stay here, let your emotions settle, give yourself and Lord Morpheus some time."

"Time..." As she said it, a question suddenly sprang into my mind, and I was surprised I hadn’t thought of it sooner. "Lucienne, what about my world, the time that’s passing there? If I don’t wake by morning, and my mom sees me lying lifeless in bed..."

"You needn’t worry about that, Rebecca," she replied soothingly. "Months might pass here before a single night in your world comes to an end."

"She has nightmares about me not waking up. It’s been that way ever since the accident, the one that left me unconscious and started these journeys into the Dreaming. It’s always been just the two of us, her and me, so when she thought she might lose me back then..."

And as soon as I said it aloud, another thought instantly filled my head.

"It’s always been just the two of us," I continued, feeling excitement rise within me with each word. "Lucienne, your books lack any mention of my father, but my mother—she actually met him! Perhaps she remembers something, knows something we can’t discover on our own. Maybe staying here, in the Dreaming, would be a mistake after all. Maybe I should return to the waking world... and simply talk to my mom."

[mayhem-neverending]

The Big Bad Wolf

Part 14.5

Word Count: 1,286

Warnings: None

Note: This is just a lil thing. You can skip over it completely, it doesn't actually have an effect on the story. I just thought it was kind of fun to see a different perspective.

Hikaru and Kakashi stared at each other across the small kitchen table. Kakashi had picked him up from his great grandma’s house a couple hours ago, which ended up being perfect, because it gave him an excuse to escape the Elders. He hadn’t been intent on telling them he sent Obito with you, but the old bags were pushy and intrusive by nature and just had to know all the details. 

So, they spent the afternoon taking turns berating him while he made non-committal noises in response, scanning over documents that needed signing. He hadn’t started out being rude, but he did tune them out around the third time they repeated themselves. 

They weren’t pleased with any bit of the situation, to say the least.

Hikaru sipped on the juice Kakashi had bought him on their short trip to the grocery store, eyes never breaking contact. The way Hikaru seemed to read into Kakashi’s soul was absolutely unnerving. It had him wondering if this is what people had been subject to when he himself was a toddler. 

The silence stretched throughout their meal. Kakashi had picked up Ichiraku on their way back to his apartment, how could he not when he ran into Naruto around dinner time? He ordered a handful of things for the little boy - none of which he touched. He had asked your grandma what Hikaru liked to eat, but she just shrugged her shoulders and told him she didn’t really know before ushering him out the door. 

Kakashi fidgeted in his wooden chair and his fingers tapped an off-beat rhythm against the tabletop. He hardly touched his own food; the reality of him taking care of a child for the weekend fully setting in and making him queasy. He knew he could handle it, but he feared messing up - especially when it was your child. 

He crossed and uncrossed his ankles under the table, listening to Hikaru gulp down his apple juice when he suddenly had an idea. He wove his hands in the air, turning his body to the side. In a puff of smoke, Pakkun appeared with his usual grumpy expression. 

“What can I do for ya, Boss?” His deep voice broke the silence.

“Dog?” Hikaru asked, pointing to Pakkun.

“Uh, whose kid?” Pakkun raised a brow. 

Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, you see..”

Hikaru climbed down from his chair in a flash and came over to inspect Pakkun’s little face. Pakkun sniffed the air and shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Nevermind the question, this is Y/n’s kid… nice to meet ya, kiddo,”

Kakashi’s brows shot up. “How do you-?”

“Boss, the kid has her scent all over him. Smells like you do every Monday - y’know, when you call me over here and you’ve got that dumb look in your eye,”

Kakashi spluttered a little at the accusation, a deep crimson staining his ivory cheeks that he was grateful were partially covered by his mask. The dog only rolled his eyes again, holding in a scoff at his behavior. 

“You gonna tell me why you got the kid?” He asked while Hikaru roughly petted him between the shoulder blades. 

Kakashi gave him a quick rundown of the situation; the grumpy dog taking Hikaru’s clumsy affections in stride. At the end, Pakkun sighed out. Of course Kakashi would put himself in the position to take a child he had little clue of how to care for. 

Pakkun agreed to stay and help for the evening, and Kakashi nearly collapsed in relief. He wanted to do well with this task, just like anything else he did, but this specific one held extra weight. He needed to impress you and get in the good graces of your son, who was now side-eyeing him from his spot on the floor.

Hikaru and Pakkun ran around his apartment for an hour or so while Kakashi cleaned dishes, made the bed and got a bath ready. He had borrowed the bed set right from your bed when he had gone to retrieve things for Hikaru. He remembered reading somewhere that little kids were a lot like pups, and smelling their mom would soothe them. Your grandma had also informed Kakashi that he shouldn’t waste his time getting Hikaru to sleep by himself. He wasn’t the type of kid who slept easily in new places, and would keep him up all night trying to crawl in bed with him. So, what better way to keep him happy? Kakashi thought to himself.

Once the water was just the right temperature, Kakashi went out into the living room and corralled Hikaru, who was jumping on couch cushions and cackling at Pakkun, who was trying his darndest not to get stepped on.

Kakashi smiled to himself before flashing Pakkun an apologetic look. “Hikaru! Are you ready for a bath?”

Hikaru stopped jumping and looked Kakashi dead in the eye before stating a taunting, “No,”

He started jumping again, but Kakashi was quick to swipe him up. He carried him to the bathroom where the child didn’t put up a fight about getting undressed. He gladly got into the warm bath and played with the soapy bubbles filling the tub. 

“I’m heading out, Boss,” Pakkun called from the bathroom doorway. 

“Ah, already?” 

“I think you’ve got it handled from here,” 

Kakashi smiled gratefully beneath his mask, his eyes turning to crescent moons for a moment. “Thanks, Pakkun. You did a great job,”

He left Kakashi and Hikaru alone with a poof. Kakashi smacked a hand on his thigh. “Welp, just the two of us, now, huh?”

Hikaru looked up at him mid bubble-bite. In response, he splashed water up at Kakashi, who received the brunt of it on his mask. It seeped through and had him pulling it down to wipe his sleeve across his face. He shook his head and raised a brow at Hikaru.

“Do you do that to your mom?” He asked in a stern tone. 

Hikaru stared at his now bare face. He pointed up to Kakashi’s mouth and his little face suddenly broke into a bright smile. 

“Yeah!” He shouted enthusiastically, still pointing at where his mask had resided.

Kakashi was taken aback at the first smile pointed at him all evening. It took him a second before he realized - 

“Was- did you not like me because of my mask?” 

He started to pull it back up to test his theory, and was met with immediate opposition. Hikaru yelled, “No!”

Well, he figured as long as he kept the mask off, things would be a lot smoother sailing from this point forward. He smiled and Hikaru mirrored his expression, his little eyes wide with excitement. 

After an extended bath where Kakashi got himself soaked to the elbows from playing, he bundled Hikaru in a towel and plopped him on his queen sized bed. He dressed Hikaru and changed into his own pajamas before switching his bedside lamp on and the overhead off. 

The two boys crawled under the soft covers. He couldn’t help but inhale deeply at the scent of you mixed with detergent. His sense of smell was incredible, and having the mask off left him without his usual needed barrier. He supposed, as he inhaled again, that this was also an excuse for him to smell your scent without being a real creep.

Kakashi rolled over and grabbed Icha Icha off of his bedside table. “I forgot to grab your bedtime books; you think your mom would kill me if I read you a little of this? Nothing too raunchy, of course,” 

Hikaru shook his head of brown curls with an ornery grin. “Nooooo,”

Kakashi grinned. “Alright, let’s see…”

Part XV

[lakeynxmccray]

What Felt Well Deserved

Read with Caution

Trigger Warning: Abduction, violence, torture, blood, beating, severe injury, intrusive thoughts of death

Things this week had not been going well for Lakeyn. She still had Mckenna on her mind and she spent the last week wondering if things could have really been different. What If she could just own things up to her parents. She wondered what she was really scared of. But she knew the answer, not being perfect. Subconsciously the girl spent every effort behind closed doors to be her ideal of perfect. As she got older she got better at not obsessing over her appearances but after conversations with people, she would dwell on her words, on her actions. This is why she liked becoming Summer. No one knew who she really was and she could be free

Though, this evening at work was not ideal. There was one particular man getting a little too handsy with Lakeyn for her comfort. Things like this happened every once in a while but she was able to brush it off and the bouncers removed the guy. Though it did leave her feeling slightly stressed for the remainder of the night. It was nearly 6 am as she was one of the last to leave the Vanilla Unicorn. She made it to her usual spot a few blocks away to remove the last of her disguise and get into her car. The girl was tired, she had worked all day at Like a Broken Record before her shift dancing. She found herself at a local coffee shop getting something to eat and adding a little coffee into her system. It wasn't long before she was leaving and walking back towards her car near the vanilla unicorn.

It all happened so fast, being approached from behind, a hand coming and covering her mouth as she was pulled into an alleyway. But Lakeyn was a tough girl and she wasn't going without a fight. And while she started swinging, it was like they knew she was a feisty one. Chloroform drenched the rag that covered her nose and mouth. No matter how hard she fought, it was a matter of seconds before the girl was collapsing to the floor.

Vulnerable. Weak. Hopeless. All things Lakeyn despised feeling. And yet she found herself coming to while being tied down to a chair. The ropes were tight and digging into her skin, wrists bound together behind her. Her eyes scanned around the dark room in which she sat. Everything felt fuzzy, the room was spinning and her vision was blurred. ouch, my head. she thought as she took a few deep breaths. She must have hit in when she passed out. But then she heard sounds coming from behind growing closer. "Show yourself." She commanded, not letting the fear radiate in her voice. The figure moved in the darkness.

Silence filled the room as the first strike happened. Lakeyns head snapped to the side as she could feel blood dripping from her lip. The girl laughed, a smirk spread across her face. "Is that all you got? If you're going to beat me, stop hitting like a fucking pussy!" Her voice increased in volume as the sentence progressed. She was an antagonizer. Lakeyn couldn't recall the events that were happening. She just felt like she was getting hit by a bus over and over again. Part of her enjoyed it, though she would never admit it. Subconsciously pat of he felt she deserved this. She felt it was her time and if she were to greet death, she would have some fun with it.

Maybe this was gods way of punishing her for being gay or just sleeping around in general. Was she that bad of a person? With each strike, she of course had something out of pocket to say such as "My sub hits better than you", "Hit me, baby, one more time", and "Take me out to dinner before you get freaky with me." Part of her could not let these people know they had broken her. Inside, she felt like she was dying. She wondered which would be the last blow, her final breath. She was not sure how much longer she could hold on. She was tired, she was hurting. Her comments came to an end and it was just blow after blow. She was giving up. The little she could see faded to black. She was done

Was this what death was like? Darkness? Nothingness? Just end. But those were thoughts. Thoughts she realized as she was surrounded by paramedics as her eyes opened. Where the fuck am I? she questioned, the answer she could not make out on her own. She was in a display case at the Hidehill History Museum. Her vision was still blurry and her head spinning. She heard voices, there were too many. Her brain could not make out what they were saying to her. And there was that ringing, the god-forsaken ringing. Lakeyn blinked a few times before losing consciousness yet again. She did not come back to again until she was in a hospital bed.

"Lakeyn McCray, You are lucky to be alive." The nurse greeted her. Was she lucky? Or was this event about to blow her life up. The hospital room door busted open as her mother rushed in. "Lakeyn Olivia, don't ever scare us like that again!" her mother pleaded as she rushed over to her only daughter. "Fuck" the blond muttered, and just for a moment, there was that intrusive thought, that one that said I wish they finished me off.

[crownjimin]

☆ ⁄⁄ ★ 057 | the prelude to an apology

coffee — the enemies to lovers social media au where min yoongi refuses to date a cheerleader, but yoon haryun might be able to change that.

( masterlist / prev / next )

tag(s): @secretlycrazyhummingbird @preciouschimine @bubblytaetae @btsarmymochi97 @chogiyeol-utopia @flyxfall @cherrybubblesandvodka

☆ ⁄⁄ ★

It was almost comical how much fear was coursing through Yoongi’s veins at that moment. Those who were not in his shoes—not about to make one of the most nervewracking decisions of their life—would laugh at him. Seokjin and Jimin did.

On the exterior, Yoongi seemed harsh. It seemed like he was rougher than he indeed was, a juxtaposition to the heartfelt, sincere type of guy he was. As he continued down the sidewalk with a light sweat on his hands and forehead, he looked calm to those around him.

While internally, deep inside his chest, his arteries worked overtime to get enough blood to his heart and prevent him from collapsing on the spot.

A mere two hours ago, Yoongi had dished out his plans of winning over Haryun to his friends. He claimed it was foolproof, with no errors in sight. He had spent the previous night sketching a rough plan of how he would approach Haryun, where Yoongi would approach her, and what exactly he wanted to say. Yoongi had briefly entertained the idea of writing a script, but once he began to practice it, he realized how ingenuine it would seem, so he decided to let the words flow naturally when the time came.

Although the time is near, and Yoongi just might throw up if he came within ten feet of Yoon Haryun, let alone close enough to apologize and gush his deepest feelings. 

After reviewing the many texts Yoongi and Haryun shared, Yoongi had a rough idea of when Haryun would be at cheer practice. It technically wouldn’t be blind-siding her, as the gymnasium was commonplace for the two. Yoongi frequented the location for basketball practice and Haryun for cheer practice. It was the one place that wouldn’t seem like Yoongi was actively seeking out Haryun, so it made perfect sense.

He would waltz there, take her by surprise, and reveal it all. How he had been feeling for the past two weeks, during the two weeks they spent together—just everything.

But that—that is what made Yoongi want to vomit.

In his head, it seemed easy. Just speak. Just voice your feelings. But every time he imagined standing in front of Haryun with her eyes on him, his heart sped up, his palms turned sweaty, and all his motor skills malfunctioned.

He needed a buffer—an olive branch—that prefaced his true intentions once he came face to face with her. It needed to be something that held significance to Haryun and the history she shared with Yoongi. So what better thing to offer than a coffee? 

The godforsaken beverage is why Yoongi was in this situation, so why not have it represent a new page for himself and Haryun?

The walk was brief to Toasty Beans, with nearly no one on campus being awake at a time so early that the birds hadn’t even begun chirping. Yoongi walked into the empty cafe and smelt of fresh coffee beans and pastries with a stride that held false confidence.

There were only two baristas behind the counter, and at the sound of the bell from the door, they both turned to greet Yoongi.

“Yoongi-ah,” Gaeul greeted, meeting Yoongi at the counter. “It’s been a while.”

Without the arrangement with Haryun, Yoongi didn’t have a reason to grab a coffee every morning. Usually, Yoongi drank an Americano once a week if he had the time. He often didn’t have the free time to even think about coffee, let alone make time to buy one. So the two weeks with Haryun, where he spent every day at Toasty Beans for her, was the most he had stepped inside the coffee shop during his entire college career.

The frequency of his presence made him somewhat of a regular. A few baristas knew him by his order as opposed to his status as a basketball player on campus. Namely, Bada and Gaeul knew his preferences the best, and each day, no matter the time, whether it was rain or shine, they would always add a medium caramel iced latte for Haryun. It was helpful at first, seeing as Yoongi would almost always forget to order for Haryun in the beginning. But as time progressed, it became slightly embarrassing that they knew he still needed the latte. Even if she wasn’t with him, he still needed it.

As Yoongi greeted Gaeul good morning, this was why she replied, “A medium iced caramel latte, and what else?”

The air conditioning must’ve cut off at that moment because there was no other explanation for the warmth that coated Yoongi’s cheeks as he looked down and cleared his throat.

“No, Gaeul-ssi,” Yoongi handed her his payment. “That’s all today.”

It was silent for a moment as she processed everything before handing him his change and receipt. “Haryun-ah isn't with you today?”

Yoongi simply shook his head.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen the two of you here,” Bada walked up to the counter, the prepared latte in her hand. She slid it across to Yoongi as she spoke. “How is Haryun-ah?”

“She’s fine,” He tensely replied as he grabbed the beverage. “Things have been a bit busy, so-”

Bada shrugged in agreement before she waved goodbye to Yoongi. “See you later, Yoongi-ssi!”

He wished the two girls a good day as he continued on his solemn way to the auditorium where Haryun would be. The chilling temperature of the iced latte seemed to burn as Yoongi held it tightly with both hands. He made sure to guard the drink with his life because if he showed up to speak with Haryun empty-handed, he was almost sure she would ridicule him.

Once he reached the auditorium, he received greetings from most cheerleaders who were outside as they stood in small groups and chatted with one another. The practice had already ended if their tired expressions and worn-out posture were anything to go by.

Yoongi hadn’t been precise with what time practice started or ended, but he had a brief idea, so seeing as he made it within a few minutes was good enough for him. But as he stood amongst the cheerleaders, with little to no acknowledgment, Yoongi realized Haryun wasn’t among them.

He saw Moonhee and Luda together on one of the cement walls chatting, none the wiser, that he was standing there looking for their friend. And since he was too afraid to ask the two girls where Haryun could be, he took it upon himself to go inside and search for her there. The worst that could happen was that she wasn’t inside, but it was better than having Moonhee or Luda or both antagonize him for searching for Haryun after all this time of not speaking to her.

He could go without that scolding for the time being.

So as he walked inside, it took less than a glance to spot Haryun as she was sitting on the ground, a few feet from the entryway where Yoongi stood. She hadn’t looked up from her feet, where she seemed to be struggling to put her shoes on, one of her feet wrapped tightly with compression tape that extended up her ankle. Although her head hadn’t risen, Haryun heard the door shut and sighed.

“Moonie, just give me two seconds. I promise I’m fine,” Haryun grumbled as she abandoned the efforts to put on her shoes and instead pulled a sweatshirt over her head to cover her sports bra.

Her eyes never left the ground, and Yoongi’s eyes never left her.

For a few moments, Yoongi thought about telling her he wasn’t Moonhee, that it was him, and that he had a few things to get off his chest, but everything seemed frozen. He could think about walking over there, but his legs wouldn’t move. Words formulated in his head, sentences so poetic and romantic that Shakespeare would be ashamed, yet they wouldn’t form on his tongue.

Yoongi felt paralyzed. With fear, anxiety, and an overwhelming sensation of want.

He wanted to pour his heart out, to simply hold Haryun’s face in his hands as he looked straight into her eyes and just existed. But there was that nagging feeling in Yoongi’s mind telling him just to leave.

Why would Haryun want anything to do with him after what he had put her through? So much back and forth that could have quickly been settled with one text had been prolonged because of his foolish actions.

Yoongi’s inner turmoil ran deep. It enveloped every part of his body to the point where he missed Haryun looking up at him and simply staring. If he had been paying attention, not caught up in his head, Yoongi wouldn’t have been able to decipher the amalgamation of feelings that she was trying, and failing, to convey.

“Yoongi?”

Haryun jumped up from the floor with a slight grimace as she placed too much weight on her injured foot. The sight of struggle snapped Yoongi from his trance as he rushed over to help Haryun steady herself on her feet.

The physical contact was welcomed by Haryun, her grip on Yoongi’s forearms tight while she found her balance. She noticed the latte in his hands and carefully grabbed it before she  took one sip and asked, “What are you doing here?”

As if he had no clue, Yoongi froze. A few beats of silence ticked by, Haryun growing worried at the lack of awareness Yoongi presented before he blinked and immediately started rambling.

“I wanted to see you. I have to explain to you why I didn’t text-why. I’ve been ignoring you-“

Haryun’s eyebrows furrowed. “You were ignoring me?”

“Only slightly,” Yoongi responded, to which Haryun let go of her grip on him and attempted to turn away. With the strain on her ankle and lack of balance, she looked like she was throwing a minor tantrum more than anything else. “But I had a reason!”

“Sure, that makes this so much better.”

“No,” Yoongi rushed to turn Haryun back towards him. “No, I have so much to say.”

Haryun startled at the abrupt yank Yoongi gave her arm to turn her around. Her shoulders rose as she staggered, and Yoongi gripped her arms to keep her in front of him, with nowhere else to go. And with the realization that she could not just walk away, Haryun relented.

“Okay, then. Speak.”

There is a second where Yoongi is afraid to speak now that he has permission to do so. He had expected Haryun to fight more for her to refuse to talk with him. So now that he was here, with her attention on him and willing to listen, Yoongi had no idea what to say.

Should he start by explaining who Umji was? Or maybe explain the whole ‘I ghosted you over text, and I’m sorry, but I was spiraling’? On second thought, perhaps he should drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness like a petulant child with no other options because that is what he felt like at that moment.

And just as Yoongi bent at the knees, the door to the auditorium slammed open, and a screeching, “Haryun, what is taking so long,” rang through the air, startling Yoongi upright. Haryun held an unimpressed expression as she looked over Yoongi’s shoulder to greet Moonhee, who seemed impatient with how long she had been waiting.

“I’m injured,” Haryun gestured down to her foot as she hobbled away from Yoongi and over to her belongings. “Be nicer to me.”

“It’s simply a sprain,” Moonhee corrected as she walked to stand next to Yoongi. She stopped directly next to him and scanned her eyes up and down his figure. “Hey, Yoongi-ssi.”

Haryun had managed to put her other shoe onto her foot and quickly limped back towards Yoongi and Moonhee. Yoongi smiled at Moonhee with the same gummy smile that Haryun despised (read: adored) and said, “Hey, Moonhee-ah.”

“What brings you here, Yoongi-ssi,” Moonhee reached for Haryun’s hand as she asked the question, although she already knew her answer. “Is it my sweet little Haryun-ah that brought you here because the other day she told me-”

“Nothing!” Haryun interrupted. “I told you and will be telling you nothing ever again.”

With a quick maneuver, Haryun gripped Moonhee’s wrist and tugged her toward the door and away from Yoongi, her steps uneven but determined.

“But, Haryun-ah, we still have to talk,” Yoongi reminded her as he trailed behind them. “It’s important.”

“Not now, Yoongi,” Haryun huffed once she reached the door. “I don’t have the time.”

“I’ll text you!” Yoongi was desperate as he yelled this. He hadn’t seen Haryun in two weeks, and he wasn’t exactly sure when he would get the opportunity to see her next.

Haryun didn’t believe a word that spilled from Yoongi’s mouth in that instance, and it was visible on her face. Yoongi couldn’t blame her, given their history, but he doubled his efforts.

“I promise I will,” He pleaded. “Right now.”

As Yoongi moved to grab his phone, Haryun held out her hand in his direction, stopping his movements.

“Okay, fine,” Haryun backpedaled, to which Moonhee snickered. “But give me a few minutes-”

Confusion washed over Yoongi’s face.

“-I have to unblock you first.” With her words being final, Haryun turned and walked out the door. Moonhee stayed in her place for a few moments, her eyes glittering with mischief as she glanced at Yoongi.

“It’s all a front,” Moonhee muttered. Her eyes turned soft. “She’ll listen to whatever you have to say, Yoongi-ssi.”

Then she was out the door, and Yoongi was left alone in the auditorium with a newfound sense of courage sizzling in his chest.

☆ ⁄⁄ ★

( masterlist / prev / next )

[chaoticforever]

Desperate Times, Desperate Measures | Yandere Tony and Yandere Steve x Male! Reader

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers.

Are two men with very different and very strong personalities. Both tend to get into arguments and didn't really have things in common. Well, until you came along and managed to steal the heart of Iron Man and Captain America. 

You, Y/N L/N. The newest member of the Avengers who was in your mid-20s and graduated from SHIELD academy, and ended up being recruited by Fury. 

And from the first day they laid their eyes on you, you've managed to turn everything around with just one look.

Created a dark, possessive monster inside the Billionaire and super-soldier. 

They loved every part of you and the sole purpose of their lives was to get you to be one of theirs forever. 

Of course, this has caused them both to argue more frequently than they did, and the other Avengers were getting fed up with it. So, they both resorted to doing many different things to gain your love and affection. 

Tony resorted to spending his wealth and luxuries. He's constantly spoiling you with gifts and even took you flying in his private jet with just the two of you.

Steve wasn't from this time, but he knew that if he wanted you, he needed to be himself, so that's what he did. He took you out to your favorite restaurants and other places to your liking. You seemed to be having a good time, which made Steve think he is winning against Tony. 

They wouldn't stop until they both succeeded in winning your heart. 

You and Steve were currently training in the gym after punching the punching bags. Though you didn't need to train, you liked training with Steve. Tony watched you both train through the cameras he had installed to make sure that Steve didn't try anything with you. 

Steve was a little more skilled in fighting than you, but he should learn to never underestimate you. Without warning, Steve threw a punch at you and missed as you did a special move and flipped him on the ground as he groaned. 

"How did you manage to do that?" Steve asked breathlessly from underneath you, blushing from the position you both were in. 

"Because I'm awesome and amazing." You said cockily with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders as you smirked down at the super soldier, "Guess I'm stronger than you." 

In a split second, Steve flipped you over and pinned your arm down as your eyes widened in surprise. That damn super Soldier serum strength. Steve was now smirking down at you, "I'm still stronger."

He put his hand on your cheek, startling you slightly as you felt heat crawl up to your face. Steve decided to get a little bold and leaned down, slowly closing the distance between you two, but the sound of your phone blared throughout the gym. You both jumped, and you got up from underneath Steve to check it. 

Crap, I was so close to kissing him. Steve thought as Tony clenched his fist in his hand, feeling a sudden urge to call for his suit and shoot a lot of repulsors at Steve. 

I can't believe I almost kissed Captain America. What is wrong with me? You thought and shook your head, checking to see who called you and the unread message. 

Seeing the message made you let out a huff of annoyance. Steve frowned and walked over to you and placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to look at him. 

"Are you alright, Y/N?" 

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just fine."

Steve didn't believe you, but he'll let it go for the time being, "Hey, are you hungry? I can make you something or we can go out to lunch." He smiled at you. 

"I would love to go out to lunch with you, but I promised Tony I would help down in the lab after I was done training." You sent him an apologetic smile. 

Steve clenched his teeth at the fact that you were spending time with Tony. He didn't want you to be alone with him. He hoped at least Bruce was in the lab with you, but then again, Tony would still try to make a move with Bruce there or not. 

"Mr. L/N, sir would like to see you in his lab now." Jarvis said. 

"Okay, I'll see you later, Steve." 

You left the gym, not knowing that you left behind a jealous and fuming Steve. 

You took a shower and changed as quickly as possible, running to the elevator and nearly bumped into Tony who had a coffee mug in his hand. 

"There you are, Y/N! I was wondering what was taking you so long." Tony said, stepping back into the elevator along with you and taking a sip of his coffee. 

"Just need to take a shower and change first. Training made me very sweaty," You replied, "So, what are we working on today?" 

"We aren't working on anything today." 

The elevator stopped and you both entered the lab, as you looked at Tony in confusion, "But I thought we were-" 

"Nope! You are going to try on the new suit I designed for you." He presses a button, which brings out the suit. 

"Wait. I'm actually getting my own suit?" You asked, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice, but failing miserably. 

Tony nodded, "Yeah, and with this suit, you'll have full optimal protection along with other special modifications. It'll be good for future missions as well." He boasted proudly of his new design. 

"It's perfect! Can I try it on now?" 

"I don't see why not. Go ahead!" 

He takes the suit out of the package and you took it, running into another room to get changed, but not before planting a kiss on Tony's cheek. He still stood in the same spot and blushed, taking a deep breath in. 

The suit felt amazing on your body. It was quite comfortable and nobody can ever say that you don't look good in this suit cause that would be a lie.

This black suit could help you blend into the environment better and look good at the same time. 

"I can't believe you tried to kiss him! And then show up down here in my lab!" You heard Tony speaking to someone in a hushed tone and you decided to listen in. 

"Mellow out, Stark. Don't act like you haven't tried to when you're alone with him." You heard Steve's voice spoken in a hushed tone as well. 

"Doesn't matter. I do what I want, and I want you to stay away from him." 

"I don't have to listen to you!" 

"I'd strongly suggest you do." 

"Hey, how do I look?" You step out and show them how your suit looks on you, putting an end to this unnecessary argument as they both looked at you. 

Both, Steve and Tony's mouths fell open slightly at the way you looked in that black suit, "...Hot." Was the word that came out of their mouth simultaneously and you chuckled. 

"I know. Thank you." You responded. Just then, you got a message on your phone and resisted the urge to sigh, "Sorry, Tony. I have to leave right now." 

"What? Why?" Tony narrowed his eyes as Steve stood next to him, waiting for your answer. 

"Well, one of my friends from SHIELD Academy wanted to meet up with me." 

"And what's their name?" Steve asked.  

"His name is Tyler and I forgot we made lunch plans together, so I'm going to go and get ready. I'll see you guys later. I won't be gone for more than an hour."

Quickly, you walked out of the lab and left behind two people together in a room with one sole purpose. And they realized that someone else might be in their way. 

Around twenty minutes later, you were done getting dressed, wearing a casual outfit. It was probably a little much for going out with a friend. Oh well. You always dress to impress. 

"Where are you going looking that good? A date, perhaps?" You heard Natasha ask and turned around to see her in the doorway with Clint, smirking at you. 

"If you must know, I'm not going on a date. Just going out with a friend." 

"Oh c'mon. There's no way you're going out with a friend when you look that hot. It's totally a date," Clint said, "I bet you fifty bucks he's gonna have sex." 

You rolled your eyes, letting out a snort, "It's not a date and I won't be having sex. Tyler just wants to know what's been happening in my life and how I fit in around here." 

"Well, make sure to tell him that you fit in just fine around here. This is your home." Natasha tells you. 

"Home." You whispered in a flat tone, putting on your jacket and shoes. 

"Yeah! You're an Avenger now. It might not feel like home since you're still pretty new here, but it will soon." Clint chimed in and you nodded with a smile. 

You went down to the living room where all the other Avengers were sitting and said your goodbyes. Then, you walked out of the tower to go and meet Tyler. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

"Come dance with me, Y/N." Tyler asked, placing his drink down and offering you his hand with a smile. You two went out to lunch before coming out to a bar. You two had an interesting conversation. 

Even though you said you would be gone for an hour, that turned into three. 

"Um, right now?" 

"No, when we are old and gray. Of course, I meant right now." You rolled your eyes but took his hand and he led you onto the dance floor where other couples were dancing as well. 

Soon, you were wrapped in his arms, swaying to the rhythm of the music, "Remember what I told you to do. Take out the Avengers before it's too late." 

You let out a sigh, not wanting to have this conversation right now or at all for that matter. Unfortunately, some Hydra agents did invade SHIELD and recruited Tyler. They were trying to recruit you too, but you didn't want to be a part of that. 

You didn't want to hurt or kill the Avengers. You actually liked them and saw them as family. You wanted to protect and help people, not hurt them. 

"I don't want to have this conversation right now." You stated and lifted your head up from his chest to see that he looked like he was struggling to breathe and frowned, "Tyler? You alright there?" 

Suddenly, Tyler collapsed onto the floor, passing out as some people came over to see what happened. You were about to check on him when a Hydra Agent came over and placed a hand on your shoulder, "Get back to the tower. You have a job to do. Don't forget." 

You let out a dramatic huff but walked back to the tower. When you got back to the tower, you went straight to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face, drying it with a washcloth. 

Fuck it, you decided that you aren't killing any of the Avengers. You were basically a member now. You get to save people's lives and that's what you wanted to do. Hydra would have to kill you before you think about hurting the team. 

You entered your room at the exact moment someone knocks on your door. Ugh, seriously? You wanted to blast your music and read a book or something. Who the hell is knocking at your door? 

You opened the door and Tony and Steve were standing in the doorway, "Hey, Y/N. How was your date?" Steve asked, voice dripping with bitterness. 

"It wasn't a date," You corrected, and sighed in slight exasperation, "But I had a good time. What are you guys doing here?" 

"Cap and I came here to ask you a question." Tony spoke up confidently. 

"What is it?" 

Suddenly, both Steve and Tony grabbed one of your hands, startling you slightly.

"Y/N. We really like you. A lot."

"And we want to know who you like back." They pulled you closer to them, gripping your waist in a possessive manner. 

You looked back and forth between both of the men standing before you, clearing your throat roughly. You've known for some time now that they had a crush on you. It wasn't hard to tell. 

You liked both these men a lot. Though the way you liked them was different than the way they loved you. Their obsession ran deep and there wasn't anything they wouldn't do for you. 

"...I kinda like both of you." You said and watched them closely for their reactions

"Well, we don't mind sharing you," Tony declared, "You want to be ours, right?" 

"Yeah, I'll be both of yours." Oh, you didn't know what saying those words would do to the genius and the blonde.  All you wanted to do was take a nap after the crazy day you had. 

And that's what you did. 

You fell asleep in a matter of minutes as Tony and Steve laid on both sides of you, cuddling with you in content. 

"Didn't I tell you that everything would work out perfectly?" Tony questioned. 

"I hate to say it, but you were right, Tony. And I'm glad that you were right." Steve responded, wrapping his arm tighter around your waist and kissing your neck.

Once you left the lab, Tony and Steve could only think about the fact that you were going on a date with some guy and they couldn't let that happen. 

They didn't want to do this, but they created a partnership of sorts to make sure that no one else could have you. They didn't want to share you. Both of them wouldn't stop trying to win your heart and kill each other. But, you know what they say. 

Sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Everyone wants to at least fuck you. I mean just look at you, so they needed to work together to make sure you were theirs, and theirs alone. 

Tony had placed a 24/7 tracker on you when you first joined the Avengers with audio and video. He was able to track and see you all the time. 

Watching as you laughed and talked with Tyler like he was your whole world sent both men bubbling with anger. 

Using his connections and wealth, Tony hired someone to put a drop of poison that he created himself in Tyler's drink which would kill him in a few minutes. 

Steve ended up killing the person who Tony hired to do it. They couldn't have him telling anyone about what they did. 

You messed with their minds with only a look and they couldn't help, but love it. 

Tony has been with plenty of men in the past. None lasted long since he was a playboy, but no one ever made him feel this way and he couldn't let you go. 

Steve was pretty much familiar now with the concepts of same-sex couples. And when he first laid eyes on you, a man, he knew that you needed to be right in his arms. 

And now, you have given yourself to both of them. Oh, you didn't know what you just did because you were with them forever now. 

Escaping is impossible and they would do anything to make sure you belonged to them. They had no intention of ever letting you leave them.

XXXXX XXXXX 

[mbluee]

Red - Thirteen x Reader

for @whumptober2021​

No. 3 - STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT…

Taunting | Insults | “Who did this to you?”

Word Count: 4,715

Warnings: blood, lots of blood, injury, near-death(ish), abandonment, so much whump, exhaustion, choking, bit of possessiveness...eek

Summary: The Doctor makes the mistake of leaving you alone, and now she must face the consequences - and so must you. Red is an awful color.

A/N: surprise! i’m doing pieces of whumptober and told no one! yes i do have a schedule!! hahahaa. hahaha. ha. you all know i can’t resist a “who did this to you?’ feat. a pretty blonde time lord. on that note, read it and weep. xoxo

✩✩✩✩

The floor below you is red, and what a pretty shade it is. Deep, glistening, red. Wine stained, rose colored. Red.

Wet, warm.

In a puddle of it beneath you, a puddle of red. How funny. A puddle of a color? Hot, fresh, new. Odd. Pretty, out of context.

Your hands are covered in it, like a paintbrush had been brought across your palms, drawn onto each knuckle. You could see the lines and creases in your skin, each dimple covered in that color. Red. Pools of it in your hands, on your clothes. Oh, not your clothes. What an awful day to wear white. Now it was red, red, all of it, red. Overwhelmingly red.

Surrounding you, red.

Beneath you, red.

The people on the floor are red. They were breathing, once, you think. Not people. Bodies.

Bloody bodies, in pools of blood, beside you, now red.

She said she was coming.

You can’t breathe very well, too caught up in the smell. No one told you blood smells.

Did she leave you behind?

Your feet are entirely numb – they only feel wet. You aren’t wearing shoes, you don’t think; Your socks are drenched. Soaked. White turned red – oh, they’re pink. Pink is a pretty color. Better than red.

She forgot about you.

Your fingertips are wrinkly. Blood was thick. It hung heavy, it weighed down your clothes. Weighed down your heart, submerged your mind. You were under the blood like you were underwater.

She left you alone.

You swallow, your mouth feels full of red. No, not red. Blood.

“She left me alone,” You think you say, but it doesn’t sound like your voice. It’s shattered, garbled. Bloody. Was that you?

Did she leave you alone?

In the sea of red comes lilac. A coat, whipping about the destructive battlefield, contrasting so sharply with the darkness of it that you almost have to close your eyes; Something tells you not to. That color, that presence. The vibrancy of it. Familiar. Safe. Home. You don't process ever saying her name, but when that bright figure whips around to face your crumpled body, you realize that you must have. A plea, a calling.

She said she'd protect you.

There was so much blood.

Her fuzzy figure breaks into a jog, boots thudding quickly across the rivers of red below. Red footprints left in their wake. It makes you sick, and your body aches; It burns red.

The Doctor kneels when she’s close enough. You want to move closer to her, to be comforted by her. She looks warm until you look to her eyes.

"What's wrong? Is this your blood?" She's demanding, her voice dark. Not light, not by any means. The color of blood, of destruction, of a deep and brewing storm. Her eyes weren't red, but they might as well have been. She says your name. A hand to your cheek.

"Who did this to you?"

Voice darker, growing bolder. Angrier. Her hand is hard against your skin, and you whimper involuntarily. You need her to be your home, and she was becoming someone you didn't recognize. The rainbows of her personality were replaced by thunder and malice. It scares you.

You startle.

She scares you.

And she stops.

It must be in your eyes, you think, or the way you flinch back at her sharpness and the cut of her touch. Usually so soft, suddenly so tight. You can’t understand it in this state of panic – maybe you would later – but right now it’s unbearable, and you just need her. Not whoever this was. Her.

“I’m sorry,” She says – guilty, regretful. Her hand softens just before it pulls away, and no, no – come back, you need her back, need that softness she just teased you with – and you reach up to grab her only to cry out in pain.

“No, no-“ The Doctor strains, falling to a pile beside you and ruining her clothes. Her knees stained red, palms turned wet. When she swipes the hair from your face, blood is left behind from the floor. You don’t care. You need her.

“I need you,” You say, without thought, automatic. It still isn’t your voice.

“I’m here.”

Her eyes are kind. Not red. Not dark, not hidden with something terrifying like before. Transparent, compassionate, home.

There she was. Your Doctor. Yours.

“Doctor,” You plead, and it is your voice – more than it was before. Bubbly, covered in stress and intensity, but it was yours again. She was yours again. “I can’t move.”

Her hands come to your side only for you to gasp in shock. It burns, sending a jolting snap through you as if her fingers shocked a painful current of electricity through your broken body, and it hurts more than it should because her hands should never cause you such pain. But it burned, and you didn’t want it to, and that fact hurt so bad that you crumble before her. The Doctor’s touch was always safe. She was safe.

But she left you alone.

And just as much as it hurts you, it burns straight through the Time Lord before you. The whirr of her sonic is all you can process through the blinding pain, and she looks at you as though her whole world is falling apart.

There’s a quick and final buzz, the flick of her wrist, and an analysis of results.

“Broken ribs. No open wounds. Oh, sweetheart-“

She catches herself, but still stares at you. Your eyes are weak and blurry when they meet her figure, but she’s so pretty against the backdrop of battle and blood, and she calls you such sweet things. Her clothes are ruined, her shoes red, and you whine without meaning to. Pathetic, maybe, but all it does is light a furious fire inside of her that you can’t quite see.

Behind that worried and gentle gaze was an impending hurricane; Eyes of lightning, steps of thunder. The Doctor pushed back that anger for your sake.

You were crumpled on the bloodied floor, and she had been ready to ravage galaxies to find you.

“I’m okay,” You tell her, trying to reassure the worried edge that covered her face with lines and regret. Your hand lifts, however slow, to touch her cheek. You’re lying to her. She knows. Your fingertips leave behind a bloody smear, and it only makes your tears fall faster – proves your false reassurance. “You’re here.”

She hushes you, leans into your desperate fingertips. You need to feel her, she needs to feel you. It’s unspoken.

You’re alive.

You found me.

“You’re here,” You repeat quietly, broken. “Don’t… Don’t leave me again. I can’t-“

“I won’t. No, never. Couldn’t.”

Each word is punctuated with a touch to your arm, your shoulder, your cheek. She leans forward, kisses your forehead so gently you must see stars. No – galaxies. Not just red. Rainbow.

“We need to move now. I’ll take you home.”

Home. When would she learn?

With her hand to your cheek and her lips to your skin, you were already there.

“Alright, then. Let’s get going. Can you do that for me?”

You could do anything for her, now that she was here. You almost forget about the blood, and so does she.

The Doctor begins pulling you to a stand.

“Slowly, now. That’s good, you’re-“

The words stop in her throat, eyes suddenly flickering down.

The Doctor freezes.

Along your neck are fingerprints. Crescent shaped marks in your skin from filthy nails, purples and blues mixing to ruin your perfect skin. Bruises. Indents. Clashing with your delicacy.

Someone touched you.

Someone who obviously didn’t know who the Doctor was, who didn’t know precisely what she was capable of. Someone who wrapped their fingers around your throat; Someone who left ugly, long-lasting marks. Someone who has just made a very, very bad enemy.

Someone who hurt you.

And her eyes go black.

“Who…” She’s straining, resisting. Body nearly shaking with the rage that suddenly ignites her, softness receding but trying desperately to keep it in place for you. You deserved that. She’d give it to you. “Who did this?”

Her fingers touch your jawline, so carefully trailing to your neck. You flinch back. Why did you do that? It’s her. Yet when The Doctor’s fingertips brush a certain spot on your skin, you cry out and drop your head against her chest before you. It hurts. You know it wasn’t her, but it hurts.

“Tell me,” She says then, tense. Withholding. She speaks through her teeth and forces herself to stay level, though you can feel her heartbeats echo rapidly in her chest. Her fingers are purposely careful against your wounds, yet you can’t help a sob when the memory returns.

His hands had covered your throat, squeezed your windpipe while you tried to scream. It was her name that came from your shrieking lungs, you think, before waking up on a blood covered floor. You needed her. She’d left you alone.

One of her hands is placed on the warmth of your cheek, the other now pressing your face into her chest. Her shirt is wet. No, wait – You were crying. Those were tears, on her shirt, making it wet. Your tears.

“Oh, no,” You say tiredly, mixed with sobs, muffled against her. “I’m sorry.”

You’re slightly delirious; Pained and needy. Her thumb grazes your cheekbone when she pulls you back, sliding across your face gently, keeping you grounded and perhaps doing the same for herself when she looks into your eyes.

“No, not sorry. Never sorry. What are you sorry for?”

You sniff again, louder, and collapse back into her chest. It’s safe there, hidden, and listening to heartbeats was steady in contrast to the terror around you.

“I’m ruining your clothes.”

The darkness in her subsides slightly, looking down at her shirt, looking down at you tucked into her.

“You…” She starts, head tilting almost in confusion before shaking it with a blink. “My clothes?”

“Yeah,” You sigh. Defeated, exhausted. You pull your head back up, straining with how heavy you feel. Your eyes are glued to the mesh of wet drops and splotches on her chest. “Messed it up. I like that shirt.”

“Do you now?” The Doctor responds softly, that sharp edge dissipating, being pushed back for another moment. Simply soft, now. Hard when she needs to be. Never hard with you.

She smiles slightly, just a tiny bit. It’s enough to brighten an entire galaxy.

“Yeah,” You tell her again. “Yeah, nice color.”

“Ah,” She settles on, smile growing. Oh, you liked that. You wanted more of that. “Nothing to worry your pretty little head over. Have got a closet full of them, and it’s certainly bigger on the inside.”

She brings a palm to your cheek, soft as can be. “Besides, you worry about the silliest things.”

You lean into her. She’s still crouched down beside you, knees on the red floor. Red floor. The feeling of dried blood covering your hands returns, and you wished you hadn’t looked down, wished you’d stayed in that moment with her and that beautiful smile. The tears on her shirt were nothing compared to the blood on her boots. You’d clean them, you think. When you got back. And you’d do laundry. Simple, soft, kind, for her. You’d erase this, rid yourself of red.

You hate red.

“Up we go,” The Doctor announces, interrupting your single-colored thoughts and filling them with iridescence. She comes to your side, slides her arm behind your shoulder blades. You lean the rest of your weight into her when she lifts your fragile form, but it still burns, and you still cry out.

The Doctor stays silent, jaw held tight. When she catches a side glance to your crumpled expression, it seems as though she’s going to say something, but she doesn’t.; It’s as though she can’t bear to speak. The hot tears that slide down your freezing face gather at your chin and drop to the red ground. Stop, no. Not red. Bloody. So bloody.

As you move forward, your eyes stay on that blood. It trails across the floor like a devilish painting, like a swift masterpiece made entirely of misery, and you feel suddenly sick. Dizzy. The red room is spinning, and the Doctor tries her best to keep you still. Her tight jaw loosens. If not for anything, just for you.

“Stick with me, alright? Got a ways to go, and I need you present. Let me get you safe.”

But you left me.

It isn’t until she stops, halts both of your moving bodies, that you realize you’d said that aloud. Your one hand is clutching to the fabric on her back. Blue. Such a lovely color.

The Doctor pauses and stares at you, taking the time to think before she speaks. Her face is furrowed, though her eyebrows have slightly risen, eyes scanning over you and looking between yours. Searching you and searching for her words. You’d never known the Doctor to do that.

There’s silence for a moment, a long second of contemplation and pain on both of your parts. Her eyes are reflective as her body stays still. You might’ve mistaken her for a statue, a paragon of grief and yearning, and something else you’re all too afraid to place. She’s as still as the dead that rest on the floor.

“I know,” She murmurs. Simple and with finality. “I know.”

You stare at her, the two of you stuck in red. The blood is tacky beneath your feet. The bodies lay limp, you stand still.

“And I’ll spend the rest of my existence vowing to never do it again.”

Your next breath is shaky. The depth of her words are deeper than the shade of blood staining your world, yet it suddenly feels blue.

“Thank you,” You tell her, because you’ve no idea of what else could suffice. Nothing could, but it’s enough for now.

The Doctor adjusts her hold, bringing her hand down from your shoulder to support your waist instead. She simply looks at you. And that’s enough, too.

Your side is melded into her hold even as you clench through the pain, not caring in the slightest because that pressure reminded you she was here. It was all red, before, but now it was blue, and lilac, and blonde; There was a rainbow on her shirt and the brightest stars in her eyes. When you’d meet her gaze, she’d smile comfortingly, like home, or a window of escape and peace. The blackhole of anger within the Doctor would dissipate slightly.

“Almost back! We’ll turn a corner there, then straight down. TARDIS is hidden in a perfectly-sized closet. Convenient, isn’t it? All spaceships seem to have TARDIS sized closets.”

You trudge forward and focus on her words, calmer than the sea of vicious pain coursing through your poor body. How did it ever get this bad? Tear stained cheeks accompanied only by grief and shock. Had it all hit you, yet? The pain was stark, but the memories were blurry. You remembered them as though it was someone else.

It had been a blast, a bang, a number of rapid shots as bright red beams of light shot through the walls. Silver weapons firing into bodies, causing casualties, missing only you. How had they missed you? Bodies strewn across the floor accompanied by your own, curled up in a ball pathetically and pitifully. What could you do? Could you have saved them, all of them? Could you have been the Doctor?

You tried. Forced yourself up from the floor as it first became bloody, faced the men who burst into the complex and reigned hell upon it’s occupants. You spoke with authority and you spoke like she would. You were the Doctor, you tried to be. And it hadn’t been enough.

“Alright there?” The Doctor asks, and she already knows the answer, but she asks anyway. Maybe a piece of her hopes it’s something it isn’t. When her eyes linger on your neck again, you have to shut your eyes and block the memory. How long did bruises last? Would the divots of fingernails leave scars?

Her hand raises, slowly, you feel it. She places it on your neck and tightens her hold on your waist as best she can without hurting you. It didn’t matter, because everything hurt. She just didn’t want it to be because of her.

“It’s foolish, really,” The Doctor says, suddenly sharp. Your eyes snap open in confusion, but her eyes remain kind as she looks to you. You blink twice and open your mouth to question her, but when she looks back down to your neck, her gaze eclipses into pure, unaltered darkness, and the words stop in your throat. “Did they think they would get away with this?”

You stare at her, her eyes still locked on the damage to your throat, and she doesn’t move an inch. Stopped in this less bloody hallway, the landscape of your pain physically behind you yet still leaving an underlying imprint. You blink, swallow.

“Away with what?”

Her eyes rise slowly, dragging across your injuries, up the span of your open neck with catastrophic analysis. She notes every detail, every prick and every discoloration, and finally reaches your eyes. They’re ruinous. Possessive.

“Laying their hands on you.”

Your lungs constrict suddenly with a tight hitch and the widening of your eyes. You think your heartrate spikes, or maybe it completely stops, or maybe it flies out of your chest. She continues to stare, and you continue to freeze under her glacial expression. There’s a warmth in the hand that wraps protectively around you, so contrasting to her forbidding eyes, so much so that you almost flinch. But you stay still, trying and failing to breathe, and waiting for her next move without knowing what to do with yourself.

She shifts. The hand on your neck comes up, thumb against the front of your chin, fingers beneath your jaw, and she tilts your head to the side in order to scan you further. Her head leans forward slightly in what you assume is a way to find any other points of impact upon your skin, but it only puts her closer to you, warmer against you, breaths on your bruised neck. You freeze entirely, not even taking the time to breathe. What was she doing?

Then she leans in. You can smell her, then, the comfort and warmth and kindness of her entire being overwhelming your senses and replacing the stale stench of blood. Your palms are wet with sweat and that devastatingly red liquid when she moves even closer, and her dark eyes glow. Really, actually, glow.

You feel an exhale against your neck before she presses her lips to that specific spot, and you gasp with a flinch. Her hand on your waist tightens once, a reassurance, and your body feels suddenly light. It’s that feeling when you first wake up after a good night’s sleep, or when you climb into a bath set at the most perfect temperature. It comes from her kiss against your skin. Igniting like a steady fire, a bright glow emitting from where she made contact, and you feel completely light once more just before the feeling dissipates. It’s rejuvenating, or fulfilling. It’s… Regenerative.

You push her away, even with weak arms, and you watch as her glowing yellow eyes recede back to their almost normal hazel. They’re abnormally grave, with an extra feign of confusion. Your hands remain on her upper arms and she keeps her body close to yours.

“Doctor, you shouldn’t have done that,” You almost snap, feeling much more alive what with the very risky regenerative energy that just coursed through you without your permission – without her better judgement. The Doctor shifts, looking between your eyes as if she never even heard you, before something with finality sets into them.

“You’re going back to the TARDIS.”

She steps forward, almost crowding you, hand still supportive on your waist in a now tighter grip. Her head tilts and leans purposely into your space, and when her eyes flicker down to your neck once more, you freeze, and she notices. Her gaze is ruinous when it returns to your own. Protective. No, more than that. Possessive.

“And before that, you’re going to tell me who did this to you.”

You scoff, blinking rapidly in complete shock at her near – no, complete – arrogance, and that twinge of something else you’d very much like to ignore during this inopportune moment. Yet you can’t help but admire her, in some strange way, even through the shock of her slightly pointed words.

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit she was a sight to behold. Emotions that had never been previously directed at you were now in the forefront of her analyzing view, and in the same way that your previous moments were tainted red, her current thoughts seemed to be covered in it. Her words were precise, sharp – not cutting into you, rather – cutting into the idea of anyone ever laying a hand on what was hers. What was hers.

It should scare you.

Up close and personal with the infamous Oncoming Storm, the same hurricane that just pressed a glowing kiss to your damaged skin. So quick to switch between holding the most immense amount of compassion for you, and then lacking any sliver of it for those who even dreamed of harming you.

It should scare you.

But look at her. Rainbow in a stripe across her chest, royal blue fabric clashing with the disgusting and tired red surrounding the two of you. Her boots are perfect for running, her pants held up by bright yellow suspenders, and her smile is like the sweetest sunshine on a particularly rainy day. You’d bask in the sunlight when it came.

For now, you’ll stand in this downpour of her and revel in that instead. Two sides of the same wondrous, unpredictable coin that is the Doctor, these two sides you’ve come to…

Oh. That could be saved for another day. Perhaps it’s simply best to ignore that tug of yearning and let her care for you in the best way she knows how. Defending you, acting as a shield – knowing well that you could stand up for yourself, knowing that you’d probably tried – and dealing her own doses of karma to those who deserved it. No, she didn’t simply interfere with time; The Doctor owned it. She could pretend all she wants about being avoidant, about keeping out of history, but you knew. When something hurt the Doctor – no, when something hurt you – there was no stopping her. It was an inevitable thing. A struck nerve turned vicious.

The nerve was struck, the damage done. So here came the storm.

“I don’t know,” You admit honestly, slightly quietly. Did you wish you knew, or did you wish you’d forget all together? Was the fleeting memory better left blurry? Or would the details help you cope with the truth of it all, and the security of now? “I’m not… I don’t know. He was cruel, and disgusting. His teeth were almost brown when he- he-“

You swallow hard, avoiding the Doctor’s gaze. “When he smiled.”

Your eyes can’t bear to raise and see her reaction, but you feel the grip on your waist tighten until you hitch your breath in pain. Only then does it soften, a thumb running over your side in subtle apology even as fire runs through her veins. Anger so hot that it was palpable. You still didn’t need to look at her to know that she was staring down at you, assessing you, mind running with every possible course of what you’d call vengeance and what she’d call retribution.

The words flow out of you now, unable to stop it when the hazy memory bombards all your previously calming senses. It burns in your throat when you speak. You hope she can’t hear the painful strain, or the clench of your teeth, but you know she does. That’s just something she knows. You.

“I tried to be like… like you,” You stress, body fatigued, worried eyes needing the comfort of the Doctor’s gaze; She was safe, though the current blackhole-like-state of her eyes reflected otherwise. “I tried so hard. So you’d be…” You take a shaky breath with your eyes closed, “So you’d be proud of me.”

You laugh, then, a dangerous thing, an almost angry thing. Pitiful, perhaps, was the better word. Embarrassed, maybe. Your head shakes in frustration. At your own failure.

“But I didn’t do it right, or I’m just not cut out for that certain thing, or they just thought I looked too… pathetic,” You ramble, eyes bouncing about the room now, looking at absolutely anything but her. You don’t know the exact expression that she wears. You worry it may be of pity. “I was alone.”

You feel her inhale take a pause, slightly, barely noticeable. A guilty exhale through frowning lips that follows.

You shift again, not acknowledging the pain of your side, or the pain in your heart. Alone. It left scars a lot deeper than the ones on your skin.

“Doctor, I don’t…“ You take a breath even if you know it won’t help. Your vision becomes fuzzy, like seeing through stained glass, and you realize that it’s the gathering of tears.

You swallow. And you look up at her.

“I don’t know why they didn’t just kill me,” You whisper. The tears brimming at the edge of your eyes simply spill at that sentence, at the assertion that you could be dead. Was it ridiculous, then, to complain about what happened? To complain that you had these bruises, because you had the privilege of being alive while others didn’t?

At least you were away from the bodies, now. But they were left alone instead of you.

The Doctor’s hard eyes soften just slightly. They still hold that impending danger, the oncoming storm you’ve come to know, but it’s gentler. Not pity as you had feared, but compassion. Kindness. Understanding. You revel in it, take that sweetness in while it lasted, appreciate the mercifulness.

But your words hurt her. Your words that told the story of fear and misery, words that told the story of when she couldn’t keep you safe as she always, always promised. You knew it hurt; You saw it in the way she didn’t know whether to step closer to you or back away. Because beneath the tender care was worry, and beneath that worry was pain, and beneath that pain was guilt. Guilt that pooled in the irises of her eyes, that tinted the hazel of them a gloomy blue. Guilt at breaking her promise. Guilt at letting someone do this to you.

“I’ll be okay,” You tell her, because what else could you say? It was true, and it seemed good, and with her by your side it was attainable. Beyond that. It was close. She healed your wounds in ways no one ever could, healed your heart even if she broke it. She fixed her mistakes, she made up for her faults – she cared about you. She cared about you.

And she hadn’t meant to leave you.

You knew that, now. You were reassured of it. The red had blinded you, but with her you could see.

“I’ve been worried about the wrong things,” The Doctor concludes, looking down at you in her arms; Her vengeance pushed away, her vibrance returning to the light. “Been so focused on who hurt you, I wasn’t even considering that you’re hurt.”

You just look at her. You know you don’t have to say anything; She’s chastising herself, replacing her actions to better suit your needs.

“Alright,” She continues, a new sweetness in her eyes, a soothing apology to your pains. “Home, then?”

You nod, and she takes a breath, and you take one too.

She hadn’t meant to leave you.

What had she said before?

I’ll spend the rest of my existence vowing to never do it again.

“Yeah, Doctor,” You say softly, and something about it is rainbow. “Home sounds good.”

[beyondspaceandstars]

Hey there! Hope you’re doing well.

Shamelessly put, I found you through the ‘marvel request’ tag! Love your writing, btw.

So…how about Natasha’s reaction to the reader trying on her clothes while she’s away? Lowkey sounds adorable. Feel free to take this in any direction you’re comfortable with! Fluff, smut, whatever floats your boat!

Anyway, ‘tis all! Bye! :)

The Sweatshirt

Relationship: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, fingering, dirty talk - 18+, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: okay i did take this in a smutty route so i hope that's alright! i hope this is enjoyable and everything you expected :) also thank you so much i'm so glad you like my writing!

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You didn’t know what it was about your girlfriend’s clothes. They just always looked so… tempting. That probably was a bit weird given her stuff was usually standard sweaters and leggings when not in her battle gear but they were still appealing. They always looked so comfy.

When Natasha was away, like now, you’d find your gaze wandering to her side of the closet. You honestly didn’t know how she’d feel about you stealing her sweaters every now and then. Sure, you two had been dating for a while but Natasha wasn’t always one for more silly sentimental stuff.

But, you figured, seeing as she was off on some very important superhero stuff, you could take the opportunity to ease your curiosity.

You wandered over to her side of the closet, browsing the dark attire. Running your hand along, you stopped at the grayish-blue sweatshirt you had seen her wear maybe once or twice. You couldn’t deny you had had your eye on this one in particular for a bit. Natasha always looked just precious in it.

Disregarding the hanger it was on, you pulled the sweatshirt over your head, letting the material fall to your thighs. You suddenly realized just how much more built your girlfriend was. She was definitely on the stronger side, all strength and muscles from her continuous training. You… You weren’t exactly like that. You didn’t have much reason to be. You were not out there taking down terrorist organizations.

Despite the sweatshirt being large, it was unbelievably cozy. The inside was fleece-lined, making it all warm and feel like a giant blanket. You stared at yourself in the mirror finding the clothes to be as lovely as expected and absolutely perfect for when you curl up on the couch later.

Content with this piece, you made a mental note of it before turning back to the closet to find maybe some sweatpants or—

"Well, don’t you look adorable?" A voice called to you from the bedroom doorway. You nearly jumped out of your skin. You looked over to find your girlfriend leaning on the doorframe arms crossed, eyeing you from head to toe, a little playful smirk on her lips. You blushed.

"I-I’m sorry, Nat," you said, already scrambling to take the sweatshirt off. "It just looked comfortable and I—,"

Natasha crossed the room, coming to stand in front of you. She grabbed the hem of the sweatshirt and pulled it back down over your body. You stopped your movements and looked up at her, a bit confused.

"Don’t worry about it, honey," she laughed. "It looks good on you."

Your mouth had gone dry as Natasha’s eyes shamelessly raked over you again. There was something in them you couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was was making you suddenly feel hot — or maybe that was just the fleece.

"Really?" You finally asked, a bit foolishly.

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror again but suddenly came to face the full situation at hand. Natasha stepped closer, practically towering over you, as her front was pressed to your back. One of her hands was coming down, lifting the sweatshirt lightly as she trailed her fingers on the inside of your legging-covered thigh. You gulped.

"Mhm," she hummed. "There’s something about seeing you in my clothes that’s just very…" You could only imagine what she going to say because the next thing you know, her hand began slowly moving beyond the waistband of your leggings.

"O-Oh—," you cried out in surprise when Natasha’s fingers suddenly dipped into your panties. Your girlfriend let out a low chuckle as your eyes made contact in the mirror. It was all very stimulating, watching yourself getting touched. And it didn’t help that Natasha was looking at you like she wanted to devour you. All from wearing her sweatshirt. It was unbelievably hot.

Natasha’s fingers continued their quest slowly as she ran her fingertips around your folds which were getting wetter and wetter by the second. You yelped as she inserted one finger as if she was testing the waters — literally.

"You’re so wet, honey," Natasha mumbled in your ear. "I’ve barely even done anything."

"I-I—,"

"It’s alright," she mumbled as her fingers began making their way back up to your clit. "Watching you parade around in my clothes sparked something in me, made me feel a bit…possessive if I’m being honest. My girl wearing my clothes. My girl who is mine to please. Mine only, right?"

She started circling your clit in tight little motions as she spoke. All you could do was give a weak nod as you fought to keep yourself standing. Natasha must’ve seen you begin to falter because she let out another laugh before snaking her other arm around your waist for support. You felt yourself get wetter— if that was even possible — at the strong hold she had on you. Her domineering touches always made you weak.

"Yes, Natasha…" You mumbled out a proper response as she gave your clit a few more circles before moving back to your folds. With no warning, she plunged two fingers into you, sliding in so easily. Natasha groaned in your ear as you let out a moan.

She began pumping her fingers in and out, giving little flicks upwards as she went, hitting just the right spots. Your eyes began fluttering shut at the pleasure but Natasha wasn’t okay with that. She pulled you in closer to her, forcing your eyes open at the sudden movement. You met her hungry gaze in the mirror. The sight had somehow become more erotic as you watched yourself practically being held up while Natasha’s hand was shoved into your leggings, pleasuring you however she wanted.

"Do you enjoy looking at yourself in the mirror? Hmm, pretty girl?" Natasha practically taunted you with the question as you were a bit too dazed to answer. You gave the best nod you could manage. She chuckled and continued, "Yeah, I enjoy it, too. Love seeing you fall apart from a little fingering while wearing my clothes. If this is what happens when I get two fingers in you, what would happen if I get the strap and fuck you against the mirror?"

You gasped at her lewd talk, suddenly unable to think about anything else but getting rammed gloriously by your girlfriend while wearing her sweatshirt. It lit something within you, too. There was something about being so owned and dominated.

You didn’t know how to answer, the only sounds in the room coming from your wetness as Natasha continued to finger you. She began bringing the palm of her hand to hit your clit which was getting you closer and closer to the edge with every motion.

Natasha apparently could tell this as she asked, "You almost there, sweetheart? You going to cum all over my hand?"

Your head fell back to her shoulder, eyes slowly shutting again, as you nodded weakly. Her motions picked up sharply, forcing you to regain some of yourself. You opened your eyes just a bit, feeling suddenly overwhelmed over how fucked out you looked and how wild Natasha’s gaze had become.

"Yeah, that’s it, honey," she whispered in your ear, her eyes never leaving you in the mirror. "Cum for me. Make a mess of my hand and your panties. You look so good like this."

It only took a few more pumps before you were practically collapsing in your girlfriend’s arms. She pulled out her fingers but continued the assault on your clit. You yelped and moaned, twisting in pleasure as your orgasm consumed you. Natasha didn’t let up, helping to work you through the whole thing, her grip on you still so strong.

After a moment, you began coming down from the high. Taking some deep breaths, your eyes met Natasha’s once more in the mirror. You watched as she pulled her hand from your leggings and began licking her fingers one by one. You could feel yourself getting turned on all over again.

"Feel free to wear my clothes whenever, sweetheart," Natasha said with a wicked smile. You suddenly felt warm again under her devious watch.

Yeah, you were definitely going to make this a regular thing if that was how she was always going to respond. You eyed the mirror, a bit bashfully, as the wildest ideas consumed you.

[persephones-wren]

heyy! Could I request a Kaz brekker and reader fic where shes really sensitive and kind and the opposite of him and they're dating but he seems to be spending more time with inej planning a heist and reader gets jealous and during the heist she saved inej from a bullet, getting hurt in the process and tells Kaz,in a delirious state, that shes happy she saved inej for him and everyone helps him plan a picnic for her while shes healing and suprises her? Its quite a long request but it would be wonderful if you wrote it!! thanks💕

Ends of the Earth (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

Hope you enjoy reading! I had a lot of fun writing it :)

Warnings: reader gets shot, that's about it?

Genre: Angst to (minimal) Fluff

Word Count: 2126

You’re not sure how you could have ever expected him to return what you felt for him.

You and Kaz were essentially opposites- he was a hardened criminal, you were more of a person who just ran with the wrong people. He was mean and commanding, you were sweet and endearing. Where he’d kill people with no hesitation, you’d probably be torn over it for the rest of your life.

Though the Barrel seemed to have no room for someone as kind as you, you had found yourself to fit fine along with rest as someone to watch over the rest. Your skill of memorization was appreciated when Kaz needed to reflect back on a certain part of the plan, and besides, having someone counteract his cruelty was appreciated by the others.

Sometimes, like now, it was hard to be a part of the Crows. Watching Inej stand by his side, watching them work together like well-oiled parts of the same machine, it was bittersweet. You couldn’t help the jealousy that overtook you, but kindness was ingrained in you. You couldn’t hate him. You couldn’t hate Inej.

“So we’ll take them out there. Inej, I’m going to need your backup here.” His voice snaps you back into the moment.

“Got it.” She nods.

“Before then, though, You’ll be stationed here. Y/N, I’m going to want you to stick close to her. She can fight for the both of you in case anything goes wrong.”

You’re useless, you berate yourself. You’re going to need Inej to save you. Maybe if you could defend yourself the way she could, he’d like you more.

“Understood.”

“That should wrap everything up. We’ll meet at the usual spot tonight. We’ll take transport there and sneak in. From there, everything should go according to plan.”

…

Night quickly falls, and you’re all gathered.

“To reiterate, I’m going to go grab the paintings. Inej and Y/N, stick together and communicate when it’s safe. Jesper, you’re going to shoot out the lights when signaled, and make sure that carriages are ready when it’s time. Wylan, wait it out here with him. If all goes to shit, blow this place. Clear?”

Echoes of agreement echo from around you, and you nod. This should be an easy heist.

“Y/N, c’mon. Let’s head over this way.”

Inej takes your wrist and leads you to the edge of the building. Her stare is intimidating as she surveys the building, before turning back to you.

“I’ll scale the walls, and then I’ll use the rope to pull you up. We can wait on the top of the building for a bit, before slipping in through a window. That okay?”

Damn her for even being considerate to you. And you still have the nerve to be jealous over her. Her and Kaz are so similar- they’d be perfect for each other.

You still can’t find it in your heart to be completely happy about that.

“Y/N? You alright?”

“Huh?” you snap out of your reverie, and give a bashful smile. “Yeah, that’s good. I’ll spot you. Hopefully I’ll be able to get up there…”

Inej throws you a reassuring smile back. “You’ll be okay.”

You watch with awe as she scales the building with no issue, truly living up to the nickname she had been given. She’s nearly invisible as she reaches the top, you note. She’s incredible.

You wait on the ground patiently as Inej lowers the rope, before you hear voices.

You stare up at her, wide-eyed, before running and diving behind a tree.

“The wine good tonight?”

It’s a guard. Your heart rate quickens, and bring a hand over your mouth. Quiet your breathing. If they catch you, you’re dead, and you’ll be the dead weight of this mission.

“I don’t know, haven’t had a drink yet. Maybe once everyone’s gone. Ha! The Stadwatch won't penalize me if there’s no guests to guard!”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit! All we have to make sure is no scum tries to steal the painting.”

“Like anybody would dare show their face here.”

The other guard laughs, and you wait with baited breath as they finally round the corner.

You check both directions, before you quietly slip out.

“Inej?” you’re quiet and slightly shaken. Death and capture was always palpable on these missions, but it had come swinging at you quicker than you had expected. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” her voice comes from above. “I’m here. You’re fast on your feet. Good thinking.”

“Thank you, and thank you for waiting.”

The rope drops down for the second time, and you take a hold of it, pulling yourself up with a bit of her help. Your hands finally grasp the ledge of the building, and Inej extends one of her hands to help pull you up. You’re hauled onto the rooftop, and though it’s a bit ungraceful, you’re okay.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

“No problem.”

Your eyes are both directed on the walkways below.

“You scout out for guards down there, and I’ll check for guards in the windows? We should signal to Kaz soon.”

“Sure.”

You keep a careful eye down below, hearing Inej scurry to different window points. You watch as she slips to one of them, peering through.

“Just our luck,” she mutters cheerfully. “This window’s fine. Let’s open it. I’ll go first, but send a flare for Kaz. I’m going to need that window open as soon as that flare goes up.”

“Alright.” You take a deep breath, before shooting the flare off. Inej thrusts open the window and pulls you in behind her.

You watch a figure walk past the doorway. That should be Kaz, and now, he should be slipping past you to go to the next doorway to take the painting-

“To the roof again, now-” Inej says, and starts to step out behind the boxes, and the figure turns back.

That’s not Kaz.

A click.

She’s going to be shot.

You’re acting on pure impulse and nerves when you shove her aside, and the bullet pierces through your shoulder. You crumble, and Inej tries to keep you from completely collapsing.

You grit your teeth. You’re trying not to let tears stream down your face, but everything hurts and Inej is over you and she’s saying something but you can’t hear her-

You try to force yourself to sit up, and you see a cane poised to hit the guard over the head. You turn away, and thank your murky hearing that you can’t hear the scream that emits from the guard.

Kaz.

“What happened?” His voice is losing it’s cool quickly.

“She was shot by the guard, I don’t think she’s quite registering it-” Inej’s voice is more panicked, but she forces herself to be analytical. “She’s going to need treatment, and quickly.”

“Okay,” he breathes in sharply. “Okay. Go down the hall, grab the paintings, and meet Jesper by the transportation. I’ll get her out.”

“Okay.”

Inej dashes down the hall, and he takes in your state. Your pupils are blown wide, and you’re trying not to cry, but it hurts.

“Kaz,” you breathe out. “Thank the Saints. Is Inej okay?”

He frowns at that. What about Inej? Inej was fine, you’d been shot. Did you have no self-preservation instincts?

“Inej is fine,” he mutters.

“That’s good,” you sigh out. “That’s good. I don’t quite think I’m going to make it out here alive, so just in case I don’t, I love you. Though I’m glad she’s okay, for your sake.”

His frown deepens. “I’m sorry? For my sake?”

“You’re in love with her. She with you. You guys can live your happy ending. As happy as the Barrel can get, anyway.” Your smile is slightly delirious, and he knows you’re not thinking rationally.

“Stop talking.”

“I’m sorry, are you mad at me? Please don’t be mad at me. I didn’t-” you cough, “think I’d die, but if it’s for you and Inej, then I think it’s worth it.”

“Nobody is worth your life,” he nearly yells. “You’re not going to die, Y/N. I won’t allow it.”

“Please, just let me stay here. They’re going to find you if you don’t.” “I don’t care.”

He’s pulling off his jacket and carefully using it as a tourniquet for your shoulder.

“Can you walk?”

“Kaz, please-”

“Can you walk.” It’s a statement, maybe a threat.

“Maybe- maybe with a bit of support,” your words are weak. You’re running out of time. “The world looks sideways, though- face it, Kaz, I’m not going to make it. I don’t want to be dead weight, your touch aver-”

“I’m not going to combust into fucking flames if you lean on me! Goddamnit, let me help you!”

His anger startles you. You hold back more tears as he pulls you up. At least he took the care to pull you up by the other arm. “Okay.”

The world is spinning and his face isn’t clear, and time seems to speed up as both of you go through the hallways, finally meeting Jesper and Inej in the courtyard.

“Bloody hell,” Jesper mutters.

“Go. To the White Rose. Nina should be able to do something.” Kaz leaves no room for argument. You’re passed out now, and he’s almost thankful you can’t feel anything as the carriage rushes through harsh weather and bumpy roads.

I don’t quite think I’m going to make it out here alive, so just in case I don’t, I love you.

Were you that oblivious? Did you think he was in love with Inej? How could you be so blind?

How could you sacrifice yourself so he could live what you thought to be a “happy ending”?

You didn’t plan it, did you?

He carefully takes off one of his gloves, hovering his hand over your forehead.

You’re still warm.

He doesn’t believe in Saints, but now, he’s almost praying to them that you’ll be okay.

Please be okay.

...

Inej glances at Kaz, standing over her in the White Rose.

She’s been out for days at this point. Nina could only do so much, with whatever corpse-like power she’d gained. The rest had to be natural healing.

Inej clears her throat. “She’d go to the ends of the world for you. For your happiness.” Kaz remains still.

“Don’t make her do so again.”

..

Your eyes flutter open, the brightness of the room nearly rendering you blind.

Your shoulder hurts like a bitch, but besides that, you’re alive.

Happiness and heaviness fill your heart at once. You’re alive, you’re okay. What had you said to Kaz in your state?

Hopefully nothing stupid.

“You’re awake. I’m glad.”

Kaz’s voice comes from the edge of the room. He’s leaning on the wall, cane in hand. When was Kaz upfront with his emotions?

“Yeah. How long was I out for?”

“A couple of days.”

“Days?” Your voice cracks. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

That’s a lie. You thought you were dead, for sure. He doesn’t have to know that.

“...Right.” He’s skeptical, but pushes himself off the wall and makes his way over to you. “This may be a bit early, but would you want to go for a walk?”

“Sure.” Is he kicking you out of the Crows? Why would he want to go on a walk just after you’ve woken up? You’re screwed.

He waits for you to stand, and then you’re both walking side by side, into the gardens of the courtyard. He doesn’t say anything, just leads you to a small place under an apple tree. A picnic blanket is spread out, with a small basket laying on top of it.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and a brief smile flashes across his face. “Nice, isn’t it?”

“Kaz- what is all of this?”

“You said you loved me.”

Horror paints across your face, and you lower your head in shame. “I’m sorry, I didn’t, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, I know you love Inej, that- was a bit unprompted of me, I’m sorry-”

He blinks at your rushed words. “Y/N. I’m not in love with Inej. She’s part of the Crows, as are you. Though- if you mean it,” he clears his throat, “that you love me- then take this as a surprise first date.”

Your expression morphs into a shy smile. He’s probably not ready to say it back. It doesn’t matter. He feels the same way.

“Happy first date, then.”

You’re both talking and eating, small smiles on both of your faces, a stark contrast to the harsh atmosphere of Ketterdam. It doesn’t matter to him. You’re alive, you’re safe, and you’re with him. You’d go to the end of the world for him. He’d do the same for you.

He loves you.

[imaslutforremusandsirius]

please please please really rough mean dom george smut please like put in all the kinks you like writing im begging pls 😁😁🤘🏼

His little masterpiece

Since when do I have so many kinks like miss girl-😭🤚🏽 made the warning extra big

I love you for this request, now I can be hardcore without feeling weird

Warning: 18+

---

George is a quiet and watchful person, even if many think he’s the copy of his loud and comedic twin Fred. You first noticed that side of him when he asked for your permission to tie you up in bed. From then on he had more requests, he’s mean, spits on you, hits you and fucks you until you can’t cum anymore. But George doesn’t do that because he wants to punish you, no, he just can’t help the sick and twisted urges when he’s in your presence. The moment he sees your pretty face he just wants to consume you, corrupt you. 

„Look at you, so helpless“ George chuckles lowly „I could let anyone in to fuck you and you can‘t do shit. You like that? Is that why you’re clenching your slutty cunt?“

You were tied up, the rough rope digging into the skin of your wrists. George separated your legs with a spreader bar, so you were completely at his mercy. He was sitting on your belly, keeping the weight on his knees as he shoved his wand in and out of you, the long wood hitting your sweet spot with full force. 

“Oh right, you can’t talk. Here” he took the gag out of your mouth “now speak, whore.”

“Anything you want” you gasped “I’d do anything for you!”

George smirked, cooeing at you. “I know and even if you resisted, I wouldn’t care.” He leaned in until your lips rubbed together with every word. “I’d still tie you up and fuck you without asking.” 

You cried out when the wand started to vibrate against your sweet spot and bucked under him. 

„Take it whore.“

You trembled. “George, gonna cum gonna-”

He ripped the wand out, slapping you hard. Once. Twice. You sobbed with the pain and he released you from the restrains to push you on the floor. Holding you down with his foot on your chest, he sneered.

„You should know by now that I don‘t fucking care about your tears!“

He sat down on your chest, pinning your hands above your hand with one of his and shoved his cock in your mouth.

“Since you wanna act like a baby I’ll make you suck my cock. You stupid baby, only here to do as I say. Do you hear me?”

You whimpered and tried to answer, your words coming out muffled as spit escaped the side of your mouth. 

„Use your words don’t just fucking whine“

“Yes George, m’your stupid baby.”

He smiled happily. “That’s right, you’re my stupid slut.”

He shoved his cock back inside of your mouth, moaning loudly when you sucked him. He moved his hips, the way your face flushed with the lack of air made him go faster. His cock was so far down your throat that you gagged, your nails digging into his hands.

„Shut up and suck.“

You screamed when you couldn’t breathe and he leaned back, pulling out enough for you to take a deep breath before he fucked your face, his balls slapping against your chin with every thrust. 

„Ah ah fuck yes“ George threw his head back as he came with a shout, moaning when you choked as you tried to swallow everything. „Drink my cum, there we go..“

He stood up after and you caughed, spilling some of his cum on the floor.

„Filthy slut, you‘re dripping all over the floor.“

He forced your head down and you stuck your tongue out, licking the cum off the floor.

„Good slut, clean up your mess.“

He tugged your head back. „Keep your mouth open.“

Scooping up the cum from your chin he pushed it into your mouth, fingers going far down your throat and you choked, eyes watering. He smiled, biting his slip as he watched you cry but keep your mouth open to please him.

„Good slut, you like my cum?“

You nodded, mouth closing around his fingers as you blinked up at him, sucking them lightly. He groaned taking them out and licked at his own fingers and you nearly came at the filthy sight. His eyes twinkled with lust and mirth.

“You look so pretty on the ground baby, just where you belong, but I have something else planned.”

You sat silently in a trance like state as you waited for further instructions. He straightened up again, pulling a chair infront of the mirror.

„Sit with your legs spread. Let me show you what I see when I make my slut cum.“

You sat down, spreading your legs and truly saw yourself for the first time. God, the sight was so lewd it would make even the kinkiest of the bunch blush and shy away. Your cunt was glistening with your slick, clit swollen and your hole stretched with him fucking you with his wand. Your tits had bite marks all over, lipstick and mascara smeared on your face. You could see Georges dry cum on your throat and chin.

He must have seen you check yourself out and grinned at your dazed expression.

„So pretty aren‘t you“ he murmured „so fucked out. And yet I‘m not done with you.“

He put his wand in your hand. „Put it in as deep as you can.“

Your hands trembled as you pushed the wood in, toes curling when it hit your spot and you took your hands away. The moment you looked up your cheeks flushed and you turned away. Georges brows furrowed and he let out a displeased tut, grabbing your hair tight and forced you to look at yourself.

„Look at yourself baby. See, this is why I‘m so obsessed with you.“ he grinned „Your pretty pussy with my wand? It‘s perfect. You‘re my little masterpiece.“ He was talking about you like your were his greatest creation.

George snapped his fingers and the wand came to life with full force, vibrating against your sweet spot and clit at the same time. You held the sides if the seat, completely blissed out by the reflection in the mirror. George was standing on your left, one hand still in your hair and the other tugged at his cock lazily as he watched you get fucked.

„George“ you gasped, feeling your first orgasm of the night approaching „I‘m gonna cum, please let me!“

He made a thoughtful sound and crouched next to you, hand in your hair forcing you to look into his eyes.

„Did you think I‘d let you cum? Aw, baby.“

You sobbed, one hand gripping his cheek as your pleaded.

„Please“ you cried „please! Anything ah-“

He started to move the wand inside of you without touching it, eyes still trained on yours as he watched your face with utter fascination. A breathless smile adorned his pink lips, pupils dilated.

„Beg louder.“

„Please“ you begged louder, voice breaking.

„What? I can‘t fucking hear you!“ George mocked you, his own voice raising.

„Please George, please!“

„Louder, whore!“

„Ah“ you wailed „Please! Pleaseplease-“

He kissed you deeply and leaned his head on yours, watching you both in the mirror.

„Yeah you gonna cum? Is my baby gonna cum? Yeah? Cum then.“

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream and you convulsed on the chair, wand still deep inside of your cunt.

„Too much! Out, please ah!“

He chuckled taking the wand out and threw it on the floor, kissing the side of your face, not tenderly but possessively.

His hand trailed down your belly towards your pussy, spreading it open to show you your release.

„This is what you look like after I fuck you babygirl.“ he murmured against the skin of your shoulder. „A perfect fucking masterpiece.“

You turned your head to him and he stared at you, taking in your face. An obssessive glint was in his eyes and you knew then and there that George would never let you go. He was in too deep.

„Want your cum in my cunt“ you whispered, giving him a coy smile.

He let out a quiet chuckle. „Insatiable huh? Just like her master.“ You let out a shaky breath at his words, slipping into subspace.

„Present yourself.“

You stood up and knelt on the bed, spreading your knees wide apart. One side of your face was pressed against the matress and you arched your back as low as you could.

He came up behind you, nibbling at the flesh of your thighs, moving his face to your cunt. Flattening his tongue he licked a broad stripe and your legs shook with oversenitivity.

Gathering saliva in his mouth he spit on your hole, for the sole purpose of humiliating you.

„You even let me spit on you. How pathetic.“

Dragging his cock up and down he pushed in slowly, letting you stretch around him. Once he was fully inside he pulled out only to pound you so hard you lost your balance and he had to keep you pressed against him by your shoulders.

„Can‘t even take my cock after begging for my cum? Fucking slut.“

You screamed out when another orgasm approached and pushed back against him. You were clenching so hard that he had trouble moving, groaning with his deep voice.

„Fuck yes take my cum-“ George hissed before he interrupted himself with a loud moan, burrying himself inside of you. You came as well when you felt his hot cum leak out of your cunt and your legs collapsed under your body.

Moments later he pulled out slowly and groaned with satisfaction as he spread your legs to look at you.

„So beautiful.“ he moaned, dipping a finger in and you whimpered. „So fucked out. Your sloppy pussy is full of my cum, just as it always should be.“

He turned you around to smear the cum on your lips and kissed you hard, licking it off. Pulling away his eyes watched you lick your lips.

He smiled possessively. „My little masterpiece.“

[venuscribble]

No open cars, no open bars — Kim Namjoon

A/N: Hello again! Sorry I will do everything but follow the laws of grammar in my writing, I'm working on it... Grammarly hates my guts. Anyways, please do enjoy!

Summary: Joon takes his most favourite person to his most favourite spot in Seoul. He even gains a new friend on the way, too.

Fluff, hints of idol!Joon, gender neutral reader, bullying in a very romantic and charming way

It feels like I’ve lived for this little moment

On the two wheels, everything is just a trivial daydream

“Nearly there!” calls out Namjoon, riding ahead of you with his navy denim jacket billowing slightly behind, spanning out to meet the push of the wind like the wings of a dove. As the same gust pushes itself through your hair and makes waste to the careful styling you had applied to it, you can't help but realise it doesn't treat you half as nice as it does to the man before you. The gentle breeze makes his every movement elegant as he peddles along, head turning side to side to make sure every inch of the scenery around him is taken in. Intently, Namjoon soaks every little detail of his ride up and leaves nothing to be ignored. There’s not a single thing his pensive mind cannot see the beauty in, as his legs continue their steady push of the pedals below him. Nothing is minute, and to Namjoon, everything has its unique charm. It makes perfect sense for Namjoon to demand that the physical embodiment of everything he loves most about biking should accompany him on his next excursion. Despite your feeble argument against it, you knew how much accompanying Joon meant to him, a signal of trust and love which such a small gesture revealed to you. “It’ll be absolutely perfect,” he gushed as you agreed. “My baby and my bike. My two favourite things.”

You’ll do almost anything to see the bright beam of a smile Joon emits when he hears any good news. Even, it seems, deal with the gradual pain in your calves as you carry on peddling your bike along the smooth concrete path. Casting your gaze around, you understand with full clarity why Joon comes here to think - the world around you feels nothing less than idyllic. With the golden light of the sun meeting the greenery on either side of the road which you and your partner now inhabit, it feels like nothing of the cold concrete world you’re used to. Saturated and delicate, the air of perfectness is almost confusing in a sense of unfamiliarity to you. Even the daisies along the path's edge which greet you with a bow as the wind hits them feels closer to a Ghibli movie than your admittedly average life. It feels so unlike bustling Seoul, unlike unforgiving earth, unlike any dimension you could conjure up. This moment between you and Namjoon is so intimate that you conclude the space belongs to both of you and you two only. Only yours and Joon’s reality to feel the sunlight warming your cheeks and to think back on in future days.

“You look so peaceful.” You call out to Joon, hoping your voice carries through the whirring of your wheels and your backpack which audibly jiggles under your peddling. Namjoon smiles to himself, head ducking slightly in bashfulness. Accepting compliments from such a deity as yourself…he knows that will never be his forte. Alas, something his high IQ falters at - the praise of his loved one. He doesn't have a moment to string a reply together when along the path ahead he spots something that has him squeezing his brakes.

“Ah, check it out!” He exclaims happily, dismounting his bike as you brake to find...a traffic mirror? As you settle your own bike out the way to walk to your boyfriend, your head comes to rest on his shoulder from behind, looking up to the circular shape. It gives off an almost fish eye effect, the sky which is gaining an orange hue curving around your interlocked figures. A strong arm moves to hook around your waist, as Joon pulls you into his side. Seizing the opportunity to finally have you close once again, his lips plant a small kiss atop your head.

You give a small puff of a laugh. “Yknow, stopping to look at your reflection is a little vain.”

“Stopping to look at our reflections,” Joon jokes with a soft squeeze to your hip. “Me and my love.”

Your head turns to find where Joon had left his bike - of course, rather half-hazzardly abandoned in the middle of the path.

“You just left your love in the middle of the road.”

Namjoon can only let out a long and disapproving aish at your joke, releasing the hand on your waist only to engulf you in a gentle hug. Your head rests against his chest, finding solace in the familiar deep scent of his cologne. His arms wrap around your frame and rest on your hips, chin resting atop your head as he begins to rock your bodies side to side.

“Stop that.” He whines, rather than scolds. “You know I’d choose you above anything alllll day. Even if it was some kinda super cool mountain bike with an engine built in so I don't have to pedal. I’m still choosing you, okay?”

“Even above a super cool bike with engines?” you pout up at his face. He’s starry-eyed staring down at you, love pouring out of his gaze.

“Even then, and always.”

Content, you allow yourself to settle back into the comfort of his chest. What a sight, you wonder. Two lovers swaying to a melody no one can hear. You hear some chatter in the distance which only becomes a murmur once your senses tune to the soft rise and fall of Joon’s chest. His eyes smile down at you until flicking up to the mirror once more, and the sight of your frame resting upon his as the sunset casts a golden beam over you makes something tug at his heart. "Why me", he puzzles. Why him of all men in this lifetime, granted a gift so precious as yourself. He closes his eyes. His mind spirals into self-reflection. Why should Joon be the sole person granted such a harmonious moment as the one happening in front of his very eyes? What makes him so lucky? He doesn't have too long to analyse what karma he has, as he feels two paws plant themselves above his knee.

“Yeong-Won! We don’t jump at strangers!” ashamedly orders a woman as you turn your head and deduce to be in her mid-30s, whilst she and another older lady pry the golden retriever from hopping up your boyfriend’s leg. Not that Namjoon would care at all. Joon loves animals, and your many days having him give Moni just a few more kisses than you can attest to that.

“Hey, buddy!” coos Joon as he bends to meet the dog’s level. It’s slightly more grown than a puppy yet reaches to kiss Joon’s face with ease as he sinks to greet the boisterous dog. He rakes a hand over its head, running through its golden fur and ruffling his slightly floppy ears. “Nice to meet you, Yeong-wonie. What a handsome boy, eh?”

“He never does this to strangers,” offers the older of the two women to you. “Looks like he needed to say hello!”

You smile in return, shaking your head as Joon and the dog carry on playing as if the world around them has dissolved away. “What a lovely dog, he’s adorable!” You giggle. Joon rises to stand once again, not without ruffling the golden fur one last time.

“So sorry about that, again.” The younger woman adds as her eyes seem to pause on Joon’s face. Not something you're entirely foreign to.

“Wow, I feel like I recognise your face, mister. Dayeon-ah, doesn't the nice man seem familiar?”

The elder, now identified as Dayeon in your mind, furrows her eyebrows together as she thinks. Namjoon all but turns red.

“Ah, my mother tells me I have ‘one of those faces' all the time. It was nice to meet you! See ya, Yeong-wonie!”

After a quick goodbye, you both share an embarrassed laugh together and settle to resume biking once more. The sunset is in full swing now, casting shades of neon pink and blood orange against the cloudless sky like lazy brushstrokes of colour overlapping.

As Joon promised, it only takes a quick 2 minutes of peddling until you rear a corner and the greenery which followed your left side on the path is replaced by the apricot shade of the Han River. The sight makes your stomach stir - it's like nothing you could ever imagine. The setting sun reflects so perfectly, an oil painting brought to life in front of your eyes. You know Joon meets your level of adoration as the wind carries the sound of his small “Wah, so pretty” to you. Joon, your self-proclaimed bike guide during this trip, guides you along the path beside the river further, the atmosphere tranquil with the sounds of birds chirping and your wheels spinning.

“We’re here, babe.” Joon announces, once again dismounting his bike and prompting you to follow, resting your bike beside his. He is, of course, your guide. Your personal guide pauses to stop at a flat square of concrete just aside from the main path, facing the river which grows more and more picturesque by the minute. Your perfect picnic spot, you realise, pulling the backpack off your body and spreading the soft brown blanket kept inside. Joon gives a soft sigh as his body all but collapses down onto the square. The man is uber-fit, almost shockingly buff these days, yet he groans groggily after your short ride.

“Someone tired?” you tease. “Maybe you should be hitting the gym some more than you already are.”

“You're so mean to me. I bring my favourite spot and you make fun of me like this.” Huffs Joon, leaning back with his hands behind him supporting his body. “You’re lucky I love you as much as I do,” he adds with a small laugh.

“I know,” you reply, rapidly. You know you are, you might just be the luckiest person on earth. The one feeling the warmth of Joon’s unconditional love and companionship every single day. You feel like the moon and Joon is the earth itself, only you are blessed to be in his orbit despite the unfathomable size of the universe and countless other people living as you are.

“Hey, you know I'm kidding, babe.” Joon softly argues, hand running through your hair, ruffling it slightly. A blush creeps up to warm your cheeks, nuzzling into the large hand currently entwining it’s fingers into your hair. After a slight pause to collect his thoughts, Namjoon’s voice becomes more gentle as he replies, “Having you...it's like having this one treasure no one else can find. Like, I dunno. Like everything good you’ve done in life is being repaid to you. Does that make any sense?”

“Of course it makes sense, babe.” Your hand pries the one resting on your head to lock your fingers together, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You feel like that to me, too. I promise. You feel like everything good.” You take a quick look around your surroundings. You catch Joon’s eyes locking onto yours, gazing adoringly at you as if some sort of heavenly body had taken form, moulding into you. “You feel like the sunset and the trees... The wind, the flowers, all of it. You feel like nature to me, Joonie. Just tranquil and loving,” you turn to meet his eyes, “always so loving.”

“Ah, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Didn’t think taking you on my ride would make me so…”

“Gross?” you intercut with a smirk.

“Emotional, Y/N. But, this is the most romantic place in Seoul, I suppose. Doesn't help that I'm here with my angel. It’s human nature to be all soppy.”

You shuffle down to rest your head on Joon’s thigh, the extra bulk recently gained there making for an excellent makeshift pillow. He looks down at you with a tender smile which makes your most favourite pair of dimples on earth take form.

“I’m just waiting for someone to pop out that bush and say ‘Hey, got ya! Look at you being all mushy!’” you joke, the laugh it emits from Joon slightly rocking his thigh and your head in return.

“It’d probably be Jin-Hyung. I would go investigate myself if he didn’t have a schedule after we left. Still, not that I think anyone else can be trusted.” He huffs.

“Mm, definitely not.” you agree, nuzzling slightly into his thigh below you.

“I could stay here forever,” Joon begins after a tranquil minute, “just frozen in this moment.”

You want nothing more than for that to happen. For the laws of time to grant you this never-ending memory, to encapsulate it forever and never again worry about the minutes passing you by.

Joon’s lips press another soft kiss upon your head, lingering there for a while, basking in your warmth and the smell of his favourite green apple shampoo you keep using. Above you the sun gives its last fleeting moments of illumination, sinking to be doused in the Han River. He stays there, engulfed in bliss for a short second, nothing worrying him on Earth. That is, until his eyes widen and his head whips from atop yours to rapidly look at your puzzled face.

“How’re we getting home?” He all but exclaims. He’s right, you're both clearly slumped and what little sunlight that is left quickly fades. You think for a second, then, nothing.

“Shit!”

[wildheartsalwaysburn]

Sex on Fire (by Kings of Leon) || C.W.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x fem!reader summary: Charlie and y/n are celebrating their anniversary with some sexual fantasy they've had in mind for ages: sex on a dragon's back. a/n: If there would be any real dragons around, I'd highly recommend not try this at home. They are some very empathic and highkey intelligent creatures with a serious bonding issue, so any activities on their back are only happening with their consent! Also I think Charlie is such a caring and sensitive person, so this is gonna be the real "love-making" art of sex.

warnings: Smut18+, unprotected intercourse, a few swear words but actually it's fluff-smut words: 1.609

If you like it feel free to like, comment and reblog <3 Also if you wanna be put on my taglist, let me know!

"And you are sure he gave us permission?", y/n asked while she undressed completely and put on her new piece of lingerie. Her boyfriend, while taking off his shirt and pants, chuckled: "Again, love. We talked about this and it's an honour for him. Fedir won't hurt us, he never did. You know him." Fedir was one of y/n's favourite dragons in the reservate Charlie was working at and a 26 feet tall Ukrainian Ironbelly. Due to their international reputation of being one of the most dangerous breeds, her worries were eligible. But she trusted her boyfriend more than anyone else. He planned something very special for their 3 years anniversary: having sex on a dragon's back. The couple has talked about this fantasy so many times, he had no choice but finally try it out now with y/n. Charlie, completely naked, grabbed the kilt y/n had gifted him for Christmas. He never knew what to do with this but today it hit him that his girlfriend had got something in her mind when choosing this thing as a present. The man was bobbing eagerly with his feet until his girlfriend came out of the bathroom. Only an opaque gown encased her body, still keeping her best parts a secret. His amber eyes widened when finally seeing her and a hint of blush appeared on his freckled cheeks. Y/n smirked when noticing: "So after all these times you're still blushing when seeing me like this?" She walked closer to him and put her arms around his neck. Her hands were playing with his long ginger hair, which he had tied up in a ponytail all the time. As a response Charlie just pulled her even closer and started kissing her impetuously. His hands were running all over her in a silk covered body, grabbing her thighs firmly before lifting her up and pressing his girlfriend against the wall. Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing his hard crotch against her hips, just one layer of tartan separated him from her sweet entrance. Her hands were running over his strong arms trailing the freckles on his skin up to his shoulders again before she buried her fingers in his hair. When the ginger started kissing and sucking on her neck, she couldn't help but moan his name quietly. As if this was a signal Charlie stopped and breathed against y/n's soft skin: "We should continue outside, princess…" one soft kiss more on her cheek, " It'll be worth it, I promise."

It was a warm summer day without any breeze. The crystal clear sky above them seemed like a perfect invitation for their plan. Fedir was already waiting on a small hill, his silver scales glistening in the sunlight. When seeing the couple coming closer, he spread his wings on the ground to make it easier for them to climb up his back. "How do we actually...sit here, Charlie?", y/n asked slightly doubting that anything would work out on there. Her boyfriend smirked: "Let me handle this, love." Before she knew, he already lifted her up with ease and pulled her on his lap, which made her gasp of surprise and affection. Through the delicate fabric covering her thighs, she could already feel his hardness, so she started to get more confident again. As if Charlie could read her mind, he pulled her even closer, his strong hands on her back, wandering underneath the silk. "Looks like we can get on, now", the dragon tamer growled with a voice as deep as the ocean but as warm and sweet as fresh honey. He even smelled like this, which made y/n go crazy everytime she noticed. Just like at this exact moment. She pressed her lips eagerly on his, her hands on his warm face, pressing her body on his with pure relish. With a small, almost unnoticeable hand sign, Charlie told the dragon to fly off. The moment they raised into the afternoon sky, he mumbled into the kiss, telling his heated girlfriend to hold onto him. So she did, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, her hands tangled softly in his hair and her cooch exposed towards his hips. He could feel her getting wet, what made him even more excited to go further. His hands wandered from her back to her bum, squeezing it firmly while one hand went around her hips in between her thighs and up to her slit. There he started to caress her clit with his fingers and he knew exactly how to make her feel good. When feeling him down there y/n started moaning into the fiery kisses, Charlie taking the chance to slide his tongue in her mouth dancing with hers as if they were two snogging teenagers again. The air between them was getting hotter with every second, their bodies burning from lust and desire for each other. Sometimes a low breeze was waving through them causing some goosebumps on their skin. But the lovers didn't mind at all, it made them feel like being completely free. "I want you, Charlie.", her voice sounded quite desperate, "Please." To emphasize her craving for his hard cock, she pressed herself onto his lap slowly moving back and forth, slightly massaging him to get even harder. Her hand stroke over his broad shoulders, down to his strong tensed biceps, back again to his muscular chest where she dag into his freckled skin. Charlie hissed quietly due to the short pain but it turned him on even more, since he knew she was doing this because she wanted him really bad. And he liked that. So he opened his kilt and pushed the tartan fabric aside, exposing his huge, stiff member. Without hesitation he scooped up his girlfriend with one arm, his hand leaving her wet slit to get a hold on her thigh. The sudden cold air between her legs made her shiver for a second before the dragon they were sitting on was flapping his wings, making her lose balance and Charlie's hard cock sliding into her all of a sudden. Both gasped in surprise, the sudden pleasurable feeling running down their spines, stirring up the already heated atmosphere between them even more. Y/n's hands laid on her boyfriends warm, freckled shoulders, her legs tensed and pressed against his thighs, moving rhythmically up and down to give Charlie the pleasure he deserved. To show his appreciation, he pulled her hair slightly back, so her neck stretched and he could cover her in kisses, most of them soft but sometimes he couldn't help but sucking on her skin, leaving small hickeys. His lips rushed over her neck and throat, his tongue traced her muscles and veins down to her breasts where he started to carefully bite her nipples. All of this made y/n even more wet, she moaned out loud since nobody

was up there to hear them anyway, her arms were embracing Charlie's strong body tighter with every thrust of him inside her. The dragon's wavelike motion intensified the pounding of his huge cock inside her, hitting her G-spot, slowly getting her to the edge. She could feel he was almost ready, too. His body moved more erratically, his hands grabbed her breasts and bum more roughly, his whole behaviour became more demanding, more eager. The thrusts got faster. Her moans got louder. Their kisses got more fierce, tongues nearly battling to win over the other. Heat was rising up in both of them. "Oh fuck...Charlie…", every word of hers was just breathed heavily between snogging, "I-I'm about to come…" She moaned the last words out loud, feeling his hot breath against her cheeks when he begged her to wait for him. "Let's...come together", his voice sounded raucous, as if a warm firewhiskey was running down his throat. Charlie took y/n blushing face in his right hand, making her look at him, locking his amber eyes with her y/e/c ones. "Fuck...babe...I-" - "...love you." she smiled briefly when finishing his sentence, putting his freckle covered face in her hand as well, reaching her climax shortly before he did. A wave of pure heat, serotonin and delight was rushing through their bodies. He still thrusted a few times after that, wanting to make her feel good. Her body collapsed on his, shivering and sweating heavily. His face still in her hand y/n laid her forehead on his one, her sign of purest affection and love. Charlie's body relaxed then as well, he let out a deep breath of satisfaction, smiling when she touched his face. "Damn, y/n. How did I get so lucky?", he chuckled. His girlfriend, completely out of breath, just chuckled, shrugging her shoulders and pecked his lips. His arms were scooping her body, lifting her up a little to get out of her. She shifted herself in a more comfortable position, sitting between his legs nowm the silky gown loosely hanging around her shoulders. The air around them was cooler now, but she wasn't cold, protected by her boyfriend's warm body, and he was never cold actually. "What about we keep enjoying this view up here a while, before taking some hot bath together, down on earth?" Y/n stressed the word hot with a small smirk, holding Charlie's hands who blushed a little but chuckled when she suggested this. "A hot bath seems perfect to me, princess." - "So round two then?" her smirk was getting wider. "Round two, then.", he winked, squeezing her slightly.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Taglist: @marturavera

[owl-with-a-pen]

pls lord just give us a prompt where brainy brushes through Nia’s hair when she’s crying so she can fall asleep. I feel like that would just be super adorable 😭

I have had a lot of requests similar to this particular prompt, so I'm finally writing it! Hope you enjoy! 😁

“No, no, Brainy-Brainy!”

Nia jolted upright with a start, clutching her pillow tightly to her chest as she turned about herself, blinking hard against the darkness of her bedroom.

Even now, she could see the projections of her dreams like ghostly smears across her vision. The Legion ship hung somewhere at the far edge of her line of sight, a sand clock that was slowly running out of minutes lurking in the shadows by her closet.

And Brainy’s face—staring right at her, eyes wide, like he’d lunge from his seat right into her arms if he could've. But he was so far away… a whole world away… and before he could open his mouth, before he could explain to her anything that was happening… he was already gone, with just an explosion of green pixels left in his wake. They lingered even now, casting out fragments of imaginary light like the world’s most unsavoury after image.

She shuddered hard, tears already clouding her vision as the reality of her dream finally began to sink in.

She’d watched Brainy walk away in that graveyard, she’d let that future set itself in stone right before her eyes and she hadn’t—she couldn’t save him--

Why couldn't she save him?

When something moved suddenly in her periphery, Nia jerked, turning so hard that she nearly slipped right off the mattress. She raised her hand in the direction of the intruder, dream energy already primed, lancing dangerously from the bracelets on her wrists.

Energy that danced across the green face that stared back at her, teasing shadows beneath his worried eyes.

“Brainy-?” Nia barely got her boyfriend’s name out of her mouth before her chest heaved with an unexpected sob. The burn in her throat intensified, signalling the threat of fresh tears. She shook her head uncomprehendingly. “No – no, you- you were—”

Brainy reached for her automatically, careful to bypass the hand she still had held up towards him, her trembling fingers grasping loosely around lazy swirls of dream energy, uncertain whether she could trust the image in front of her at all.

But, when his hand brushed against her shoulder, his thumb finding that perfect spot at the back of her neck, pushing in deep, Nia dropped her defences all at once, collapsing awkwardly into her boyfriend’s waiting arms.

She sobbed hard into his throat, tears wetting the collar of his pyjama shirt. “Brainy—” she gasped out, her voice hoarse and strained around that single word. But it was the only thing she could think to say, the only thing that made this real.

“I’m here,” Brainy murmured, his voice a gentle hum against her ear. “Whatever you saw, it is over now.”

Nia shook her head desperately, winding her arms tighter around Brainy’s back. “No,” she gritted out. “It’s-it’s not. Brainy- I-” Her voice trembled hard enough to force her to swallow, choking on her breath. “Brainy, I saw you again. On-on the Legion ship—and then you— you were gone again. You died again.”

Brainy listened carefully, his knuckles rubbing firm circles into her shoulder. “The same images as before?” he asked.

Unable to speak, Nia nodded.

“Then, it wasn’t real,” Brainy said decisively. “It was a dream echo, Nia. Nothing more.”

Nia’s voice was nearly strangled. “But how do you know-?”

“Because the images were identical. Because that future no longer exists.” Brainy’s lips traced the edges of her hair, his breath warming the side of her face. “Because I will never leave you again. I promise you that.”

“How can you promise that?” Nia choked out, her voice muffled by the crook of her boyfriend’s throat. “Brainy, what if-?”

“No ifs,” Brainy murmured. “No more secrets or dishonesty. So, trust me when I tell you that I love you, Nia Nal. More than anything, and I will not let the future you saw come to pass.” He paused suddenly, his hands stilling against her back. “And... I am so sorry that I ever led you to believe differently.”

Nia’s chest jerked with a miserable laugh. After all, as much as she’d tried to deny it, Brainy was right.

For three weeks, she’d existed in a world where she’d believed her boyfriend had been lost to her. She’d had to live every day in that life, going to work, seeing her friends, interacting with the community as she and the rest of the Super Friends began to settle into their new roles. And, every second, she’d kept smiling for their benefit, for the kids she inspired, for the civilians she protected, and some days that smile had even felt real. Other days, though? Not even the light of the sun had been bright enough to reach her.

No matter what she’d done to occupy her mind, the hole in her heart had never gone away. And when she’d seen Winn turn that corner at Alex and Kelly’s wedding, she’d thought it was finally going to open wide enough to swallow her whole.

Then, against all logic, she’d heard his voice again from across the green, and for a while that had been enough.

For a while.

But, she’d been so afraid of losing him again. He’d nearly slipped through her fingers with Leviathan, and been torn from her side when the Phantoms had attacked. Even her worst fears come to life in the Phantom Zone hadn’t prepared her for what losing Brainy would feel like. That she might have finally been able to decipher her dream and know exactly what was coming for him… and yet still be just as helpless as she had before she’d known how to control her powers at all.

Try as she might, that hurt hadn’t gone away on the day of the wedding, and now that she was wrapped in the protective embrace of her boyfriend’s arms, breathing in his scent, she was beginning to remember similar nights since then that she’d awoken so afraid, with that pit ripped wide open all over again.

He was here, though. Every time since, and every time after, he’d be there to hold her. To stroke her hair, to tell her everything would be alright.

Eventually, she’d believe him when he told her that he wasn’t going anywhere.

That the future was theirs to make, no one else’s.

As Nia’s breathing began to slow, Brainy’s hands started to wander. She sighed softly, eyes fluttering shut when she felt his hands card gently through her hair. His fingertips worked feather-light along her scalp, sending a warmth coursing from her head all the way down to the base of her spine. She snuggled in close, slipping her hands beneath the hem of Brainy's shirt, digging her nails weakly into his back.

When her eyes started to feel dry and prickly, she finally lifted her head, grimacing at the wet patch of fabric that had cemented itself to her chin “Sorry,” she murmured hoarsely.

She felt Brainy’s smile on the side of her face, closing her eyes when he pressed a kiss to her cheek a moment later. “You have nothing to apologise for. If anything, I am the one to blame for this.”

Nia laughed weakly. “It’s- it’s not your… fault…” She was beginning to drift, she could feel it. The lull of her dreams called her with every gentle tug of Brainy’s fingers through her hair.

She wanted to follow it all the way down into the dark, but something was still holding her back.

“I don’t want to see it again,” she said quietly, drawing wayward lines along Brainy’s back. “I don’t- I don’t care if it’s not real, I can’t go through it again. I—”

“Whatever your dreams may bring, know that I will be right here with you.”

“You are,” Nia agreed. The warmth of him was so inviting, and a part of her mind was adamant not to lose that again, not even to her dreams.

Which was when Nia remembered.

She pulled away from him suddenly, enough to meet his eyes in the dark. “That’s right, Brainy. You are. So, so come with me again. Just like before.”

Brainy’s expression softened. “Into your dream?” He smirked, brushing the hair idly from her cheek. “Very well. We will vanquish your fears together, then.”

He always knew exactly what tone of voice to use to make her laugh. Nia’s smile widened into a grin as she closed the small space she’d created. She ran her hand playfully from Brainy's back, tracing her fingers around his side, towards his abdomen, grazing them carefully across his skin until she met the soft pulse of the life projector he wore on his waist. She curled her hand around it, letting her own energy pour through to his.

Allowing their consciousnesses to meld almost felt second nature by this point, so much that she hardly even noticed the dream energy that danced around them in a vibrant flurry of swirls, encasing them in a thick and frenzied veil of blue.

When Nia finally slipped back into the dream realm, safe in bed at her boyfriend’s side, she knew she wouldn’t be returning to the dark alone.

In fact, she was quickly growing certain that she'd never have to be alone again.

[elenamiria]

Tatooine Nights

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Rating: 18+ Warnings: pregnant reader, fluff, Smut - unprotected sex, nipple play, mentions of body hair, creampie, breeding kink, light pregnancy kink Word Count: 3k

Summary: Requested Fic, Anon asked:  I was wondering if you’d do a smutty Obi Wan x Pregnant Reader. Where Obi Wan and Reader both have a breeding kink and Obi Wan gets turned on just knowing he successfully bred the reader and loves seeing her belly all swollen. And one night it’s their anniversary and he wants to show her just how sexy he finds her and how much he loves her!

Masterlist  --  Tags:  @fishswimbetterunderwater​ @a-dorin​ @blxwjobsforclones​ @lynnie51​ @katrynec​ @mistermiraclee​ @theelvenvalkyrie​

The suns were starting set over Tatooine and the smell of your terrine filled the air while you diligently cleaned up the hut in preparation for Obi-Wan to come home. It had been hot that day, the heat leaking into the hut and causing several hot flashes throughout the day leaving you to shed as many clothes as possible. However, now that the temperature was rapidly falling you found that the robe you had been wearing was not sufficing. As you cleaned you picked up one of Obi's spare tunics that he had left laying on the bed the two of you shared and tugged it on. The familiar fabric settled over you and you delighted in the way that it still smelled of him. A soft smile covered your mouth as you noticed the way the tunic settled over the small bump that was just beginning to form and you ran a fond hand over your belly. Sighing softly you couldn't believe how happy you had become since settling into your life with Obi-Wan Kenobi. It was over two years since you had first met the self proclaimed hermit and snuck your way into his heart and it was a year ago to the day when your affection for him spilled over into a passionate confession that had led you to where you were today, in pure bliss.

Finishing the task at hand you turned your attention back to your dinner. Wanting to make something to surprise Obi you had picked a mushroom based terrine and sourcing the mushrooms yourself when normally Obi-Wan would go out to find difficult ingredients due to his semi-overprotective nature. Making your way down the few steps in your hut you headed to the stove to stir the stew-like dish you found yourself lost in thought once again while you waited for Obi to come home. You swayed back and forth slightly, caught up in your own head, as you hummed a tune that your mother used to sing while you stirred, so distracted you didn't even hear the door open.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Obi-Wan's voice ringing out in the hut as he made his way to you, "Whatever you are making smells absolutely delicious darling."

You glanced over your shoulder at him, both of you sharing sweet besotted smiles, he reached you and slid his arms around your waist pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Pulling away before he could deepen the kiss you continued stirring the dish, "How was your day my love?"

Obi nuzzled into your neck, kissing in between his sentences, "It was fine. I wished I could have spent more time with you love but I'm so close to making contact with Qui-Gon...."

Your hand rose to bury in his hair as you abandoned your spoon in order to pay attention to your lover, whispering his name as he hit a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. Nipping softly at your sweet spot Obi's hands slid to your belly and rubbed gentle circles over the bump, "Happy Anniversary my dear, you look absolutely stunning."

Unable to help the laugh that flew from your mouth, as you had just been lounging about all day, you shook your head in disagreement but before you could say anything Obi continued, "Swollen with my child and look at you wearing my clothes, you are perfection my love.”

One of his hands slid up your body to softly palm at your breast, freezing with a half moan when he realized you were bare under the tunic. Obi-Wan slipped his hand under the tunic to squeeze your chest, sighing contentedly his hips pushed forward into you while his other arm wrapped just below your belly to pull your lower half towards him. His hard cock ground into you and a soft growl left his throat, “Do you feel what you’re doing to me darling? Do you feel how much I need you?”

You whimpered as your hands rose to brace on the counter as your hips pushed backwards in want, you could feel a rush of wetness coating your lips and as Obi pressed into you your head swum in pleasure with the thought that it was you who had made him so needy. When he was certain you were going to keep your hips pressed back towards him Obi-Wan moved both of his hands to toy at your sensitive breasts. His deft fingers swirled around your nipples ever so lightly, you were certain he meant to tease you but with how sensitive your breasts had become his actions had you keening out for him as your thighs clenched together desperate for more. Obi-Wan laughed gently as he cooed out, “Darling, so sensitive."

His fingers lightly rolled your nipples and your walls fluttered as your head fell back onto his shoulder, eyes shutting in pleasure. You could tell Obi-Wan was pleased with your response as he repeated the motion in quick succession before lightly flicking the peaks. A mewl flew from your lips as your hips bucked involuntarily and when he pinched your nipples you nearly collapsed walls clenching hard. Your hands flew from where they were keeping you upright in order for one to wrap around Obi's wrist tightly, while the other sought out his hip giving him a gentle squeeze. His beard tickled against the side of your face as he murmured, "Tell me what you want my dear, I'll give you anything you need."

His hips rolled into you and your eyes slid open as he returned to softly squeezing and rubbing your chest sending shivers down your spine. Your eyes landed on the burner in front of you where the food lay - weakly protesting "Obi, our dinner."

You bit your lip, hoping that for once he would ignore your concerns and ravish you, the extra hormones from your pregnancy having ramped up your sex drive recently. A grin broke out as Obi-Wan chuckled at your words, fingers tweaking at your nipples before he growled out, "I think dinner can wait darling, right now all I want to eat is you."

His words had you melting and you pulled away only to spin around to properly meld your mouth with his, arms wrapping around his neck. Obi immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping at your lips for entrance which you eagerly granted, his hands settled on your waist and his thumbs soothing up and down your belly. When you pulled away from the passionate kiss you couldn't hide the bright affection shining in your eyes as you muttered, "I love you Obi-Wan Kenobi."

With your declaration you kissed him once again, hands burying in his hair to tug lightly earning you a short moan, as you nudged him backwards towards the steps that led to your shared bed. Entranced by your lips Obi obeyed moving backwards slowly until his heel hit the stairs, never once breaking apart. Both of you were gasping for air by the time you separated and grasping your hand Obi-Wan quickly tugged you up the stairs to your bed, only stopping to share one sweet kiss before he was lowering you down onto the soft fur blankets. 

For a moment he stared down at you as if you were one of the twin suns on Tatooine and your face heated immensely at his lingering gaze. Then he was falling to his knees and kissing the bare flesh of your calves, mouth trailing up to your thigh with gentle nips that had you gasping out for him. Without prompting your legs fell open baring your damp panties to him and a pleased groan left him as his fingers danced around the edges of your underwear. One of his hands snuck under the front of your panties, making sure not to tangle in your curls, before firmly grasping the section covering your soaked core and pulling it taut against you. As the fabric rubbed against your folds your hips bucked of their own accord, the friction causing another gush of slick to slide from you. As the damp spot on your panties grew a positively feral growl sounded from Obi-Wan's throat as he nuzzled into your clothed cunt, mouth opening to encapsulate your lower half and to teasingly clamp down with his teeth. The slight pain from the action was offset as he once again tugged on your panties causing them to catch on your clit and a shot of pleasure to course down your spine. A pitiful whine left your throat as you called out, "Don't tease Obi, I need more. I need you."

Your lover took pity on you it seemed as he pulled back and his hands worked your panties down your legs, flinging them off of your legs once they were low enough. Without a barrier present Obi-Wan's eyes darkened as he saw just how soaked you were for him, cunt dripping and lips already swollen. You caught the deep breath that he took just before diving in between your legs, eagerly lapping in the perfect way to make you twitch while nudging your clit with his nose. He switched to long licks only pausing to suckle at your clit until he was sure you were thoroughly drenched. Only when he was sure you were ready for him Obi-Wan made his way up your body, hands sliding up the tunic you were wearing while he peppered kisses on the skin bared to him. You shifted forward so he was able to pull his tunic off your body, leaving you completely bare. You captured his lips in another sweet kiss before you pulled back and raised an eyebrow at Obi allowing your eyes to trail down his still clothed body. Obi-Wan let out a gentle laugh with a quiet murmur of, "Patience my dear."

A faux pout covered your face as Obi backed off of the bed holding eye contact as he slowly disrobed. You bit your lip with a smirk as you watched Obi-Wan strip, your walls fluttering in interest as he pulled off of his pants and his hard length was revealed to you. His bright blue eyes were dark as he moved back to the bed pulling off his tunic and slotting himself in between your thighs. Obi hiked your legs over his hips, holding you open while his length rubbed against your slick lips. A whimper flew from your mouth and his soothing voice met your ears, "Are you ready for me darling? Is this comfortable for you?"

Your heart stuttered at the sweet questions and you nodded as you whispered that this was perfect, the two of you shared a smile as he lined his cock up with your little entrance. Obi-Wan's other hand rubbed up and down your legs as his hips surged forward, his cock sliding into you - stretching you out deliciously. Your chest heaved as you took a large shaky breath adjusting to his size and your thighs trembled. As his hips sat flush with yours, cock seated as deeply in you as it could go, and he slid his palms up your thighs to cup your belly. Your walls gave an involuntary flutter as he stroked your stomach, face soft in pleasure.

"Kriff darling, you look so beautiful - stuffed full with my cock and swollen with my child." Obi-Wan groaned out, his words sending another shot of pleasure straight to your cunt as your walls clenched on his length. You whimpered out his name, craving stimulation, your own hands moving to toy with your nipples. Obi’s large hands covered your own, mimicking your movements as he cooed, “What do you want my darling?”

“Please, fuck me Obi, I need you to move.” You cried out, an edge of desperation in your voice while you hips pushed towards his. Obi-Wan leaned forward to capture your lips, slow and sensual, as he dragged his hips back swallowing down your whimpers. The slow drag was near painful as your walls clung to his length, Obi’s hips surged forward filling you again leaving you a whimpering mess. Breaking apart Obi-Wan sat up straight, hands settling on your hips, you chased after him sitting up slightly on your elbows only to forget everything as Obi started pounding away. 

Your mouth fell open in shock, eyes drawn to the junction where the two of you came together. Your walls fluttered as you watch Obi-Wan’s cock disappearing into your tight little cunt, the sight pushed you closer to the edge than you would care to admit. It was almost embarrassing how quickly Obi had reduced you to a whining mess as you fell back onto the bed hands flying to your most pleasurable spots. One hand toyed with your clit, rubbing furiously as you sought your peak, while to other rolled and tweaked your nipples. Tears pricked at your eyes as Obi-Wan slammed into your g-spot, a wild moan sliding from your mouth. Obi’s pace stuttered for just a moment at your noise and then he was hitting that spot over and over again as he growled out your name. You recognized his tone, wild and unhinged, a way he only ever sounded when deep inside your cunt and it had your pussy clenching around him .

“I’m so close love, please make me cum Obi!” Your words pushed him to speed up to a near inhuman pace and your upper body arched with a wail of his name filling the air. Obi-Wan adjusted to free one hand, sliding it under your neck in order to pull you up to face him.

“That’s it darling, let everyone know who you belong to. Let everyone know who fucked you until you were pregnant.” As he spoke Obi-Wan knocked your hand out of the way with his free hand in order to expertly press on your clit in a way that had your vision going white. Your walls clamped down on his throbbing length as you came, body tensing and your fingers digging into your thigh. Soft whines of ‘Obi-Wan’ filled the air as he eased your hand of of your thigh, lacing your fingers together while he worked you through your orgasm. You felt yourself gush all over Obi-Wan’s aching cock and his loud groan reaffirmed the fact that your orgasm had been quite messy. Though he had slowed slightly so as not to overstimulate you Obi’s hips sped up again as he hissed out, “Kriff darling, I love it when you cream on my cock.”

His words had your grip on his hand tightening as a small aftershock rocked your body and a whimper left your mouth. Slowly coming down from your orgasm you shot him a beautiful smile as your body relaxed again, eyes shining in admiration. His hand cupping the back of your head urged you forward to slot your mouths together in a heated kiss which you were more than happy to respond to. When you broke apart Obi kept his forehead pressed lightly to yours as a broken whimper filled the air as he choked out your name followed by a breathless, “I adore you.”

And then his cum was shooting into you, filling you up more than he already was. The sensation had your back arching and your spent walls clenching to milk him over every last drop. Your free hand rose to stroke at the small strands of hair at the base of his neck, his hips bucking a few times before coming to a still. For a moment the two of you stayed were you were just basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Eventually Obi-Wan moved, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose just before he gently pulled out. 

Both of you groaned and a small whimper flew from your mouth before you could stop it as his heat left you. You didn't have to worry about becoming cold though as Obi-Wan was back at your side in an instant, helping you sit up and pulling you into his side. Legs intertwining together you laid back against the pillows sighing contentedly, one hand locking with Obi’s while the other rested on your bump. Absentmindedly you stroked your stomach only startling slightly when Obi-Wan’s hand joined yours. A kiss was pressed to your shoulder as Obi-Wan murmured, “My dear you’ve always been beautiful but like this? You look absolutely radiant.”

A wide smile covered your face as you turned your head to lock eyes with your Jedi lover, Obi couldn’t help but to steal a sweet kiss from you and you laughed lightly into the kiss. Pulling away Obi gave you a brilliant toothy smile as he stood up, stopping your indignant whine with a light shush, adjusting the blankets so you were covered up and warm. As he pulled on his underclothes he spoke, “I’ll be right back my love. How does dinner in bed sound? You’ve done so much around the house today you deserve to rest.”

You nodded at him, biting your thumb lightly as you watched him walk to the main area - eyes focused on his ass. A small giggle bubbled in your throat as a devilish little thought formed and you called out to him just as he reached the steps to the kitchen area, “Obi-Wan if you think I look so radiant like this why don’t you keep me this way? After we have our baby you can fuck another one into me, if you’d like.”

The small giggle turned into a full blown laugh as your normally sure footed lover narrowly avoided tripping down the stairs. He turned towards you an incredulous look on his face as he stumbled over his words, barely getting out, “Darling, are you serious?”

Once again you nodded at him as your laughing died down and a surprised squeak flew from you as Obi-Wan hurried back to your side, climbing back onto the bed to engage you in a fiery kiss - his cock pressing against your thigh and twitching in interest. It seemed dinner was going to have to wait.