#sobs on the floor and kills my self

[isopodcowboy]

STOP MAKING MEN FROM THE TERROR INTO TWINKS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CROZIER IS NOT A TWINK WHAT ARE YALL ON

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: '𝖱𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖨 𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖸𝗈𝗎.' ༄࿔ L.K.

⤷ Dubcon/Noncon | Knife Play | Spanking

♱ word count: 2.3k

♱ warnings: this has darker content!! dont like? dont interact: dubcon/noncon, fem!reader, ghostface!minho, reader switches up during the ending but during the smut minho has control, knife play (1 small nick and he carves his name into readers back but its shallow), light mentions of blood, spanking, p in v with no prep or condom (be safe about this irl pls), open ending?

♱ notes: this was so self indulgent because im slowly becoming obsessed with slashers again 🥴

not properly proofread! i will go through it later in the day after i sleep <3

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

The cabin you were staying at was eerily silent as you sat in the dimly lit living room. It was a rental that you had planned to stay at for a week to spend your vacation off of work and it was absolutely beautiful during the day. Though, the forest surrounding it combined with the knowledge of just how far the nearest area with people made for a rather scary experience during the night time.

Part of you was on edge as you made your way past the floor-to-ceiling windows towards the kitchen and chills ran up your spine as you stared out those same windows only to be met with complete darkness. Not even the moon was enough to cast light on the tall trees.

‘Maybe a glass of water will help.’ You had been tossing and turning in bed for hours before you gave up and settled in the living room, only to discover that there was no signal on the TV. You were lucky to have even 1 bar as you opened your phone to check the time; 2:46 AM.

It wasn’t a horrible time to be awake, but the promise of sleep would have helped with the paranoid itching in the back of your head. Anybody could break in and nobody wouldn’t know until it was too late. And even if you knew, you were a long way from any means of help-

A sudden creak in the floorboards catches your attention. Your neck snapped towards the dark hallway, then again to the huge windows as your heart raced. The Airbnb host stated that it’s an old house so it’s known to make many noises, so ‘It was probably nothing’. You repeated this to yourself over and over again as you chugged the rest of your water and turned to clean the glass, hoping the distraction would help with the anxiety.

But just as your hand wraps around the tap handle, another creak is heard and a hand wraps around your mouth. Another slides around your front and pushes a long kitchen knife against your neck. The intruder uses his whole body to roughly push you into the counter and your heart drops as you let out a scream in surprise.

The feeling of the cold counter is almost soothing as his deep, nearly robotic, voice meets your ears. “Haven’t seen you around here before… If I take my hand off your mouth, you won’t make me angry and scream for help, right?” He slides the knife along your neck, nicking the skin there slightly as a warning.

Your lack of a response makes him chuckle and he traces the tip of the knife along your cheek, “It’s not like anybody will hear you anyway, but I wouldn’t want this pretty face to get hurt. So what do you say?” You nod as best as you can in this position and let out a quiet sob when his palm releases your face.

“P-Please…Don’t kill me.” Your plea comes out in a quiet whisper, hoping the hushed voice won’t upset your attacker. If it does, he doesn’t let it be seen in the slightest.

“Shhhhh” He tuts at you and rolls his hips forward, rubbing his hard-on against your ass and forcing your hips farther into the countertop. The pinching of your skin between your bone and the marble top makes you hiss in pain, but he ignores you and rubs your hip with his now free hand.

“Let’s play a game~” He doesn’t give you time to respond before he flips you around, wrapping a hand around your neck as he roughly pins you to the counter again.

You’re finally met with his face- or what would be his face, but is instead a long, white ghost mask that would be comical if you didn’t notice the feeling of a drop of blood running down your neck from where he nicked you.

“I’m a little stressed out, so I’m gonna fuck this sweet cunt of yours. If you play nice, I’ll let you live. But if you act like a bitch, I'll kill you!”

The joyful tone in his voice causes your skin to crawl and you let out a quiet sob of fear at the deadly ultimatum. Your choices are quite slim, and you can’t deny the ache that’s starting between your legs, so you don’t take long to nod in agreement.

“Mmmm… Smart girl. Let’s get this off of you then, yeah?” He tugs at your pajama shorts and finally moves the knife off your skin, giving you just enough leeway to move around and pull your shorts down. Once they’re far enough down your legs to drop to your ankles on their own, the unknown man behind you spins you around and immediately pulls your shirt up and over your head.

He sighs almost dreamily against the mask and you watch his head tilt down as he takes in your naked torso. You can feel his stare on you for a while longer until his head tilts further and he’s met with the sight of your pretty panties- the ones that are keeping him from his “prize.”

He curses under his breath and snakes his empty hand to the back of your neck. He grasps you tightly and uses his grip there to lead you to the huge windows, pushing you against them roughly.

“What a pretty piece of ass you got here, baby.” The hand on your neck moves down in favor of grabbing a handful of your ass cheek, landing a teasing slap there as he finishes his sentences. “Might have to go home with you- make you my little pet.” You moan both at the implication of him following you home as well as the delicious sting on your ass.

The masked man chuckles darkly and lands a harsher slap on your other ass cheek. “Call me crazy but I think you like that idea. Hmmmm? Wanna be my little kitty- my little toy for me to fuck whenever I feel like it?” You were starting to get too comfortable, and he seems to realize it. So he brings you back right to where he wants you by sliding his free hand around to your tummy. 

The occupied hand runs the sharp side of the knife around your back, leaving shallow lines that you can’t quite make out. But none of that matters. Not when he’s sliding his hand into your panties, rubbing his gloved fingertip through your soaked folds.

You’re almost thankful that he can’t tell through the gloves, but the stinging pain of the knife almost carving into your skin is diverting your attention from the rough circles on your clit. Thankfully, though, he finishes his “design” faster than you thought he would.

The feeling of a thick finger entering you grabs your attention, making you moan loudly and buck your hips against his hand. A muffled laugh is heard through the mask and his voice is husky as he speaks again, “Gonna be good for me and let me fuck this pretty pussy now, yeah?”

You don't respond right away and he pulls his finger out of you, pinching your clit meanly. “I asked you a question.” His partially wet glove comes down harshly on your ass and leaves a red mark in its wake.

You let out a squeak at the pain and apologize profusely before responding to him. “Y-Yes!”

“Good girl. You almost lost the game there, baby.” He laughs to himself and you watch in the reflection of the glass as he brings the knife down between your thighs. Part of you is horrified at what he might try, and the other part is rather aroused at the possibilities that run through your head.

But he shuts them all down when he slides the dull side against your thigh and leads it to your underwear. He runs his hand along your spine and leans you forward, pushing your ass out for him as the knife dips into your underwear- dull side up.

With this he slices downwards in one swoop, slicing your panties and causing you to gasp in surprise. You can almost hear the smile on his face as he shushes you and slices one of the sides next.

Your arms shake as they rest against the cold glass of the window and you sit there helplessly as he rids you of the ruined fabric. Once you’re left completely bare, he whistles in satisfaction and leans back.

His hand squeezes your ass cheek appreciatively as the hand with the knife rests at your hip, itching to touch you as well but knowing better than to let his guard down so easily. No matter how well-behaved you've been for him so far.

“Such a pretty thing. I really should keep you to myself.” He hums and bites down on your ear. You hear the knife get tossed beside you onto the wood floor before one of his hands slides into your hair, tangling with the strands there and tugging your neck backward. 

All of a sudden the sound of metal hitting wood meets your ears and you see the knife lying on the floor, a couple of feet from where you two stand. Then his hands are removed from you for mere seconds as he hooks his thumbs into his pants and pushes down, hurriedly shoving his boxers down alongside his jeans.

The sound of his jeans hitting the floor makes your thighs clench and he takes notice immediately. He coos from behind you and you can almost hear the smile on his face through the mask as he slides himself through your folds a few times, teasing you and testing how far gone he’s got you.

Your desperate grinding gives him the only answer he needs and he finally pushes in, groaning at the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him.

“Shit… You feel so good.” The cool plastic of the ghost mask meets your shoulder as he lays his forehead down against it.

You can’t hold back the whine that builds in the back of your throat and your nails scratch into the glass as much as they physically can as he starts to move already.

“P-Please…” You’re not so sure what you’re asking for. Maybe it was mercy. Or maybe, just maybe, all those months of research about some local town's serial killer were finally paying off.

But who needs to know that? The man behind you is completely oblivious as he pulls his hips back just to drive them back into you. You barely remember it yourself from the way his tip, thick and pulsing, rams into your G-spot.

So much so that you can feel your orgasm sneaking up so much sooner than it usually would. It eventually wracks through your body like a train as the hand in your hair tightens, holding you close to him as he slows his hips to a slow grind.

“Fffuck.. Tight little cunt, baby. But I’m not done just yet.” He picks up his pace once more and uses his free hand to caress your hips, squeezing the flesh there appreciatively before landing a slap against the same area.

He soothes it with another rub, though short-lived before his hand finds its home on your ass cheek. There he lands a series of slaps paired with his muffled moans as you clench around him incessantly.

The hand in your hair finally releases its grip only to find another on the back of your throat again. He uses this one to hold you in place, keeping your cheek pressed flush against the window as he fucks into you with no care.

He continues to use you like his personal fleshlight as he grunts behind you, legs shaking from his oncoming release. The same release that is left deep in your walls, swimming around before dripping out onto your abused folds.

You both moan in unison as you cum around him again, whining at the sharp thrusts that were meant to fuck his seed further into you.

He finally pulls out once your cunt is done milking him and he pulls out a phone from his jeans, snapping a quick photo with flash on before laughing to himself behind his mask.

While he’s occupied with his delusions, you decide it’s time to make your move. 

You push his chest lightly and watch as he collapses onto the couch, head tilted up at you in amusement while his arms settle on the back cushions.

“Yeah?” His voice is deep and breathy, it goes straight between your thighs and you almost moan at simply hearing him like that as well as the confident stance he’s taken. But you have a mission on your mind.

One that includes rushing to pick up the knife from the floor and not giving him a chance to respond before you’re straddling his thick thighs and pressing the knife to his throat.

His arms stay in place on the cushions and he huffs out a laugh in pure amusement, waiting patiently for you to make your next move.

What he didn’t expect was the grinding of your now leaking cunt on his now hardening cock. He moans lowly at the feeling and goes to rest a hand on your hip, only to be met with your hand slapping it away and the other digging the knife into the skin of his neck. Karma.

“I won your game fair and square. So let’s play my game.” Your hand reaches up under the mask and tears it off his face. 

He’s not sure why a potential survivor seeing his face doesn’t worry him. But when his tip catches onto your clit and you hold the knife steady against his neck, he thinks he’s just fallen in love.

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess

@dreamingaboutjisung @everythingboutkpop @velvetmoonlght

[lilacgaby]

‧₊˚see you again.₊˚⊹

SUKUNA'S LOVE FOR YOU surpassed time itself. he'd waited centuries for this moment, the moment you'd reunite with him. the moment he'd see you again.

-✩pair. heianera!sukuna x wife!reader. tags. violence, killing, major character death, morally gray reader, pet names, kissing, fluff, crying, minor angst, happy ending. wc.2k

-✩note. heavily based off the song!

saying he missed you was an understatement.

you were his queen, his everything. time meant nothing to the immortal king, but with you by his side he felt that his forever wasn't enough.

you came into his life swiftly, an offering from a village who was begging for sukuna’s grace. you were bound up and pliant, an angry look on your eyes. one that interested him, his hand moving to support his head as a smirk overcame his face.

a lack of tears from you fascinated him. he was met by furrowed brows rather than an expression of fear. a look of defiance as an ordered servant peeled the gag off your lips.

you said nothing, he was almost upset at how you ignored him, choosing to spend your first words in his presence to curse out the leaders of your village.

“silence.” with the point of his finger you still kept your expression, though shutting up. “she is right though,” he stood, walking over to where the three of you sat. one of the leaders shoving your neck to the floor to bow.

“uh, uh, uh.” sukuna waved his finger, “you should know i don't like my prizes to be touched.” your eyes widened out of reflex, the blood of the woman beside you now splattered on your skin. your mouth agape as you saw her head roll.

the lady next to you, her wife in crime, ran out screaming. “i don't remember giving you permission to run.” her body met a similar fate to her wife’s, body sliced diagonally in half. or so you think, you could only hear the sick tumbling of her body off the temple entrance.

he looked down at you, expecting you to scream or cry, to have to silence your sobbing self by a slit of the throat. though.. he was met with none of that.

a small smile, hidden by your bow that you hadn't moved from. relief in your eyes, relaxation in your stature.

“well isn't that interesting?” sukuna sauntered over to you. “raise your head.” you did so, wiping your smile off of your face. “why aren't you screaming sweet girl? your elders were just murdered in front of you.”

with a tilt of your head, as if the answer was so obvious, so simple, you began to explain. “it's not like i liked them or anything,” you wiped the blood off your face using the dead woman’s sleeve, “so why would i be sad?”

he found himself at a loss for words in the first time for a while. the woman’s hand made a hard thunk as it hid the floor again. he scoffed, another large smirk overtook his face. he picked you up off the floor, bending down and meeting you face to face. “i might just keep you.”

the understatement of the century.

it was gradual, yes, but you became more than his favorite. he found himself thinking of you when you weren't gone, moving you into a room connected to his personal chambers so he could speak to you more frequently. he asked your opinions on things, something he never thought he'd find himself doing. you'd sit next to him by throne, helping him pass judgment on those who'd ask for a moment of his time on the daily.

the sobbing that wrecked their bodies, snot slobbering over their faces, their heads kissing the floor as they begged to him. offerings piled up on the floor, many splattered with blood that would need to be cleaned off later.

he liked how you barely emoted, expecting the slash of his finger onto their necks. he liked how the flinches of your body faded away, a cold expression adorning your face now. as if you were above them, and to him you really were.

his quarters became yours too, he grew to adore the sight of you waiting in bed for him. the new silken robes he'd got custom for you, actually your entire wardrobe was put to shame at the staple pieces he'd chose for you.

you didn't get to sit on his throne, no. you sat above it. you sat on him, not even glancing away from him as one arm held you by the waist, passing judgment onto people for the day.

you weren't all a terror though. the concubines and harem he'd harbored over the years were all let go. any one who questioned him was stricken down.

you were gifted a lady in waiting, who'd grown fond of you. though equally scared of your cruel nature that rivaled the king of curses himself.

in life you were a sight to behold. as you awoke, showering with affection, tracing the markings of his skin, kissing the spots around his neck.

many months he spent with you. each rampage he'd gone on was cheered on by you, the taste of victory on his tongue as he gifted you items every time. jewelry, new robes, a garden outside.

though it all paired in comparison to your wedding ring. a stone, specially forged for you of your favorite color. it glistened in the light, though it had an undertone of black.

he adorned a similar band on his hand, lying not on his ring finger, but the pointer finger he used to massacre. so you'd always be with him.

after a particularly brutal one, leaving him with his body completely bloodied not with his own blood, he entered your quarters.

you ran your hand along his body, eyes squinting as you pulled his main hand to your face. “you need to be more careful ryo,” you brought it up to his face, “what if the blood stains your band? replacing it won't be easy.”

he chuckled, placing a hand on your head, making you squirm away from his bloody grasp. “don't worry, i'll take care of it.”

the same scenario played out for years, the years that you'd spent together with him. you'd tell him to be more careful, tell him to be more considerate of your bond symbolized by that ring, and he'd assure you. he remembered it like it was yesterday, the slices of life you'd had alongside him all embedded in his memory.

he wished you'd have taken your own advice. he wished he had hammered it into your head to be careful, to not venture off too far without him. but he didn't.

you left his life just as swiftly as you entered it. your lady in waiting ran into his room without warning, something that'd get her head cut off if it wasn't for the blood on her otherwise white robes. he stood up quickly, rushing his way out the door on instinct as he heed her words.

“the– the queen she’s–”

he silenced her, raising a hand before she could finish her sentence. he smelled it before he could see it, slowing down and walking over to where you said you'd stay out by the garden he'd made just for you.

the white roses were stained red, dripping with your blood as you laid in the flower bed. your face was at peace, eyes closed as if you were just in a short slumber.

though the hole in your stomach that ripped through even the fabric of your clothing let him know it was too late.

“k-king-” your lady in waiting started, hands shaking before he cut her off.

“you're relieved of your duty.”

“w-what?”

“i advise you to stay in our– my temple, i will not be kind these next few days. you may go.”

she bowed quickly, running off with tears brimming at her eyes.

it's what you want-- would've wanted.

your skin was whitened and pale, there was no heaving of your chest anymore. you were gone. and he was alone.

your body was buried in the gardens, your memory was becoming lost to time.

it was seen in the alignment of his throne now that you weren't leaving up against its side, the absence of your shoes by the door, the harem and concubines that littered his halls.

he'd murdered one of them the other day. for touching your clothes, for wearing them. his heart lurched in his chest at the sight of the now hundreds year old robe on the woman. no matter what time would tell, you never faded from his mind. the memory of beating the man who'd been the cause of your death into the ground just as fresh.

even while he was sealed, a day was never lost without the thought of you on his mind. he only saw your face when he closed his eyes. he yearned for you, he wanted to feel you once more. he hoped you'd go north, be reborn and start anew. he hoped for you to find him.

but after hundreds of years waiting, and tiring, he took it upon himself to bring you back. the second he had an opportunity, he did.

a new woman, one he'd not dare compare to you in any regard, was bound by fear in front of him. oh, and a couple chains.

she was screaming, her voice growing hoarse. his temple had been empty for some years, no one would hear her pleas as she struggled aimlessly.

he laughed at the irony, imagining how you'd act in her stead, remembering how you acted when you were bound and laid out in front of him.

he pulled something out of his pocket, a finger with the very same ring of devotion he'd gifted to you. he discarded the paper sealing your very own cursed energy.

he clutched in his hand, closing his eyes as he was determined for this to be the last time he felt your body without a pulse. the last time he'd only feel the softness of your energy and not your plush skin.

he choked the woman in front of him. just before she passed out he let go.

not letting her rest, he pried open her mouth and shoved your finger in, making her breath it in.

he let go, the effects not taking over immediately. she wrapped her hands around her neck and breathed, horrified eyes peering into him until they rolled back, only the white of her eyes showing as she fell to the floor.

the internal torment of souls was happening before his very eyes. evident in the vigorous twitching of the body.

you won though. it was obvious. the glint of your skin began to peek through the head, the body itself reforming to the shape when you died. your hair grew back in its texture and color, the warmth in your skin was a sight for sore eyes.

your eyes opened, revealing the slightly glossy hue of your eyes. you felt as though you'd taken a long nap, rubbing your eyes as they locked into sukuna’s form.

“ryo? what time is it?” you asked sleepily, yawning as he helped you up once more.

“it is a new era, my queen.”

your eyes widened. your hands were in his though you looked around at the changes surrounding you. the trees were larger, thicker than you remember. your garden had a pit in the middle of it, roses growing around it. your heart dropped at the realization, the memories flowing back into you. “i..

i died, didn't i?”

he nodded, looking at where your corpse would lay. “you did.”

“i'm sorry.”

“i shouldn't have let it happen.” he tightened his grip on your hands. “there is not point in reminiscing about it now. you're here, next to me. that's all that matters”

you nodded, still feeling guilt in your chest. “you're not leaving my side.” he ordered.

“of course not.” you moved closer to him, wrapping your hands around his arm.

“can i have a kiss?” you asked, making him raise his eyebrows incredulously.

“woman, i revived you after centuries and you'd still ask?”

you took that as a yes, standing on your toes to kiss him. he picked you up, deepening it.

you had been running through his daydreams for years, plaguing his memories through his actions even while you were alive.

while the wait for you was sickening, the feeling of your skin against his once more convinced him.

convinced him that a millennia of waiting was worth these small moments with you.

taglist: @k0z3me @darhinadadragon

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[xoxo-sarah]

Bone Gnawing Guilt

↝a/n: first post of 2025 and we're starting this year off with angst I guess.

↝pairing: season 7!Daryl Dixon x reader

↝warning: ANGST, Negan, the line up, season 7 episode 1 (I think), possible spoilers if you have watched season 7 yet, death (Abraham and Glenn), guilt, gore, crying, the usual twd stuff, not proofread, self hatred?, mention of Daryl's childhood

↝⎙ 1.2.25

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

Daryl could only watch.

There wasn't anything else he could do. He couldn't get himself to stand, to walk over to you. He watched as you crumbled, all of your emotions laid out for everyone to see. Face scrunched up, lip quivering, face getting more red by the second, as sobs rattled your body. Blood coated your right cheek; blood that wasn't yours. But, that of a friend you held so close to your heart.

Your own sobs layered with Maggie's, making everyone's heart clench with a devastating feeling.

Daryl had felt guilt before. It was beat into him at a very young age. Everything was always his fault. With his father being an alcoholic, there was always something that was wrong, that the abusive man could take out on Daryl, who was only a kid. After Daryl's mother died, that was a reoccurring instance that was brought up, followed by getting yelled at and kicked around.

Maybe the guilt started there. Either way, it sprouted in his developing brain and grew until it took over his body, the roots trapping him in his body that he hated so much.

Daryl fought against the men trying to drag him to a truck. No amount of fighting -to get to you- helped. He was shoved into the truck, still being able to hear the sobs. He threw his head back, time after time. Maybe if he hit hard enough, he wouldn't be able to hear your heartbreak anymore.

-

The roar of the Savior's trucks echoed as they got further away.

No one moved. They couldn't. Their bones felt like jelly, their hearts thumping in their ears. Maggie stood on wobbly legs.

The rest was a blur in your peripheral vision. Your eyes were planted on the dirt below, crimson weaving in between the mix of dirt and rocks.

Rocks dug into your legs, leaving an imprint

It didn't matter.

Everything was numb, you felt numb. Even after the bodies were picked up or dragged, you stayed, kneeled beside the puddle.

Rick stood beside the truck, watching as your body involuntarily swayed.

A walker stumbled out of the woods, snarling.

You didn't seem to notice.

Rick started toward you, grabbing you by the forearm. He didn't have the energy to kill the walker, or have to carry another dead body to bury.

Your body was dead weight under his hip You didn't notice the walker stumbling toward you. Tears lefts tracks down your face, mixing with the blood and dirt seeping into your pores.

You only looked up when Rick tugged one final time, dragging you to your feet. The look in your eyes was almost as awful as the sight had been with Negan just a little while ago.

Words lefts your mouth in a hopeless whisper, stating what Rick already knew. His eyes softened as your voice broke in the middle of your sentence.

“They took him.”

-

The sound of the wooden bat against skull was heard all round the group. The lineup watched in horror, even Negan's men were in shock. This whole thing was gross. Blood splattered with every harsh movement. Abraham laid lifeless. Muscles and nerves twitched.

It was too much.

Daryl stood before he knew what he was doing.

The moment played

over and over in Daryl's head as he sat on the cold floor, pushing himself into the corner of the small, dark room. The gruesome pictures were a reminder of what he had done. What finally broke you. You lost yourself when Glenn, a friend you had made in the beginning, died right beside you. It could have easily been you. God knows the 'what if's swam around your head after the tears had stopped. It wasn't fair.

You weren't with the group when they had hijacked the satellite outpost. You didn't have any part of it, yet you had the blood on your cheek, the trauma of seeing what happened with your own eyes.

If he hadn't stood up and punched Negan, Glenn would still be alive. He would be there for his and Maggie's baby. He would be there to tease you, like he had done since the quarry. The two of you acted like siblings. Now, he was dead. The reason Daryl had first noticed you, as you laughed and pushed Glenn away as he picked at you, was gone. Your laugh caught Daryl's attention, the laugh that Glenn caused. You wouldn't ever laugh like that again, not in this world.

The evidence was strewn across the concrete in front of him. The Polaroids of Glenn's remains were a cruel reminder.

You probably hated him. You probably blamed him. Daryl wouldn't be mad if you did.

You most likely hated him. It would be easier if you did.

If Daryl were to see you after all of this, if he were to escape, he was unable to bring himself to look you in the eye. It would be easier to live with the hate than with the guilt.

He would feel the guilt until the snake that was death struck its fangs into his heart, the venom seeping throughout his veins, throughout his body until it paralyzes him, causing his body to give up in the long run. The guilt would run through his veins as long as his blood stayed warm.

•2021-2025 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I do NOT give permission!]

[stormhearty]

✨ pairings: Azriel x Reader, former Lucien x Reader

🔮 preview: He had always noticed you — your pain, your anguish. You had seen him too, but you had thought he had always just tolerated you — you were his High Lady’s friend, of course. But when Azriel found out that your suffering had been due to an unfulfilled mating bond with the youngest Vanserra son, he couldn’t ignore your pain. His shadows also couldn’t ignore your pain. You noticed that the Shadowsinger started to grow closer to you, and you to him — but was it nothing but a duty for his High Lady… Or was it due to feelings that were always hidden in the shadows?

📣 trigger warnings: fainting 🔎 rating: PG-13 | 🔏 word count: 6.6k

💜 masterlist + notes: This is a one-shot sequel to the “Nothing But A Curse” Lucien x Reader fic, but it can be read as a standalone! I needed some happy ending for my reader, and some people have wished for a fluff Azriel fic. So why not kill two birds with one stone? Also based on this little gif, just imagine how tender Az is in this fic with how he holds the reader. I do hope you all enjoy this!

A sob wracked your body, your thin form shaking due to the pain, the heels of your palms pressing onto pristine marble. The wind blew through your hair, helping soothe the nauseating feeling that bubbled in your stomach. You pinched your eyes closed as you focused on your breathing.

In and out.

In and out.

You didn’t care what was going around you — didn’t care that the reception was still in full bustle downstairs, didn’t care that you could hear the happy congratulations for the newlywed couple.

Didn’t care that the chance of happiness was ripped away from you.

You let out a shaky breath, your whole body shivering at the action as your stomach finally started to settle and your body wasn’t paralyzed due to your illness and the pain. With languid movements, you moved to attempt to sit on your claves when your body swayed, lightheadedness clouding your mind.

At this point, you didn’t care if you passed out — didn’t care if anyone didn’t find you. All you wanted was to be in peace, to be free from your pain.

But it seemed that wish couldn’t even be granted.

Cool tendrils of darkness wrapped around your middle and up your arms, steading your wavering movement. You allowed those whisps of darkness to ground you, letting out a sigh of relief — those tendrils cooling your heated skin, distracting you from the pain as you bowed your head, pressing your forehead to the cool marble.

“(Y/N)…”

Azriel.

“… I’m sorry you had to see me like this Azriel…” you croaked out, a broken and self-deprecating chuckle escaping your chapped lips.

You were found in such a compromising position that you felt the trickle of humiliation bubbled in your throat. You didn’t know whether to cry or laugh anymore — it didn’t matter anymore.

You had become so broken… so tired, that nothing made sense anymore. You had no idea why you were still on the ground like this, you had no idea why you were still in so much pain, why you still felt like you couldn’t breathe — those damned flowers that filled your lungs depriving you of the luxury of breathing. You didn’t know why you even felt embarrassed anymore… Mor, Feyre, and Rhysand had seen you in similar states — where your illness takes you. And so why would you be humiliated if Azriel sees you?

It didn’t matter anymore.

You didn’t care anymore.

Another mixture of a sob and chuckle escaped your lips as you tried to push your body to a sitting position, only for your arms to give up halfway, your form about to crumble onto the floor. Gentle hands caught your body, your cheek pressed against leathers as your body slumped against Azriel’s.

Your body pinched with pain, a grunt escaping your lips as bright hot flashes of pain burst behind your eyes. Oh, how your body ached — whether it be from being in one position for far too long, or just the echo of pain from your illness, from the unfulfilled mating bond gnawing throughout your body — you couldn’t tell anymore.

You couldn’t care anymore.

Those gentle hands, ones you could feel callouses and scars against your own, gently helped you into a proper sitting position — moving your body to sit on your bottom, your back pressed against the railing. You felt those tendrils of shadow dance against your skin, especially where Azriel’s hands lay — as if the contact between you made them swirl excitedly.

Your mind couldn’t dwell on such a thought, as another shock of pain coursing through your body, a whimper escaping your lips as your back stiffened. You felt that bellow of pain rising in your lungs, the inevitable feeling of nausea, and the taste of flowers building in the back of your throat.

You couldn’t understand why the pain and your illness hadn’t subsided — Lucien was long gone, happily celebrating with his new wife, leaving you behind.

Was it because you were still thinking about it? Was it because his scent was still lingering around you? It was hard to tell — but all you wanted was for it to stop.

Whorls of shadow slithered up your arms and shoulders, frantic in their movements, as if distressed by your pain. They slithered over your eyes, the cool feeling calming the raging ache and pound of the pain that flooded your system. Some others curled around your neck, while others remained swirling up your arms and legs, attempting to distract you.

It worked… slowly, but the pain was still there.

But when those scared hands came up to cup your cheek, the pain melted away and your body slumped against those railings, feeling his other hand gently wrap around your back, pressing against the middle of your back — as if to catch you from completely passing out.

“…Az…” you whispered his name, one that was full of relief and comfort.

There should be millions of things that raced through your head — why did your pain stop, with Azriel’s touch? Why was he so worried about your condition? Why were his shadows so attached to you?

But all you could think about was how the pain… stopped.

Your body ceased and relaxed, your lungs allowing you to breathe, gaining your consciousness back.

Eyes fluttered open, blinking away the dark spots at the corners as you stared up into hazel eyes — ones that were filled with worry, as they stared back at yours.

“…I’m fine…” you slowly comforted him, reaching up with shaking hands as your head lulled back, feeling his fingers slip around your cheek to the back of your neck, holding you gently in his grasp. You pressed your palm against his cheek, feeling his skin cool against your touch.

“…I’ll be fine…” you muttered, the same three words repeating themselves over and over again as if a mantra that you had trained yourself to tell people. You felt darkness creep at the corner of your eyes — and you were unsure if it was his shadows or your subconscious finally giving out on you.

But it didn’t matter, as you felt your body pass out in Azriel’s arms, his voice calling out to you.

“(Y/N)!”

He brought you close, shifting his body weight so he could pull you onto his lap, your body across his own, hazel eyes assessing you. He watched as your breaths evened out — not the staggard, painful gasps you were in moments earlier — but one of calm and serenity. His shadows glided over your skin, assessing you as well, as if they needed confirmation that you were anything but hurt.

Safe, she’s safe, just passed out.

She was in so much pain… so sad, so broken.

Her illness is bad… so bad.

They all repeated, crying out and wailing at how distraught you were not too long ago.

He stared at your face, calloused hands gently shifting your locks away from your face so he could gaze at your features.

Azriel could tell that your sickly complexion had worsened over the past few years. Whatever illness that has taken you, had taken away your radiance, youthfulness, and innocence. And what it had left behind was a shell of your former self — you didn’t smile to your eyes anymore, didn’t laugh with your whole heart… didn’t wear your heart on your sleeve.

You placed walls around your heart — both physical and mental. You never left your room, aside from the occasional family dinner that his High lady had all but begged you to come to. Or when his High Lord had brought you out during Starfall, insisting that you would feel better after the festivities. Or when Mor practically dragged you out of your room, hoping to help her find a good Winter Solstice gift for the family.

Other than when those three pulled you out, you had remained in your room — alone.

He didn’t know anything about your illness. It had remained a secret between those three — not even Cassian or the Archeron sisters knew what illness plagued your mind, soul, and heart. When he had asked his High Lord once, Azriel watched those violet hues darken — a protective nature radiated from Rhysand at the question about your illness.

“You will not ask about her illness ever again… All you have to know is that (Y/N) is unwell… We are doing our best to care for her.”

Was the answer that Azriel got from the High Lord. Even his High Lady shook her head lightly, begging him to think nothing of it.

He couldn’t understand why they had to protect the truth from him, he was worried for your health, for your safety. He watched day in, and day out how this unknown illness had taken away your beauty — both inside and out. He watched as your ethereal features dull, how your eyes tend to look so far away that Azriel was afraid you’d never return to the present. How you’d look at him and give him that small simper of a smile, one that didn’t shine with happiness.

Azriel watched as you lost yourself in your pain, your anguish.

“Oh (Y/N)… what kind of illness has taken you so deep in the darkness that all you know is pain?” he couldn’t help but whisper, gently caressing your cheek.

“—- A kind of illness that connects two souls in a mating bond but never to have that bond be reciprocated back…”

His shadows fled from your body, slithering away into the shadows, as his back stiffened slightly as he snapped his head over his shoulder to the threshold of the balcony entrance — Feyre.

Hazel hues looked at his High Lady, as those sapphire eyes stared at him with a delicate raise of her brow. Azriel watched those all-knowing eyes shifting from him to the female in his arms, watching them soften — worry and sadness filling those sapphire pools.

“Did she hurt herself when she passed out?”

His mouth felt dry and all he could do was shake his head. Azriel swallowed the lump in his throat, attempting to regain his voice again, “—- I was able to catch her before she fell…”

Feyre’s gaze shifted back to him, “…Why were you here, Azriel? We had specifically stated no one was allowed here…”

He felt his grip on your body tighten slightly, his shadows slithering back out towards their master, wrapping themselves up your legs and arms in a soothing fashion.

“…I was not the one who broke that rule, Feyre,” he stated, keeping his voice as even as possible, even though he felt anger bubble in his chest, “Both Lucien and Elain had entered this room before I did. They had done something before I had come in… When I did, (Y/N) was already hunched over in pain.

“I couldn’t just leave her here to deal with it herself… Am I right?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, hazel eyes staring into his High Lady’s as he watched her contemplate, her head eventually shaking — a sigh of resignation escaping her lips. Feyre glanced back down at your form before she gestured with her hand for Azriel to stand up, “…Bring her back inside, she will get a fever if she stays out there for too long.”

With such a command, Azriel heaved himself onto his feet, carrying you bridal-style back inside the warmed room. His shadow slithered from his feet and locked the door behind him. They glided back across marble floors and up the bed as Azriel laid you down. Both he and Feyre watched as they wrapped themselves around you, Azriel hearing them echo softly on their wishes for you to get better, to wake up from your slumber.

“… She has a disease that kills her from the inside…”

Hazel eyes snapped up to his High Lady, eyes wide as he watched her sit at the edge of the bed, reaching over to hold your hand.

The confession was quiet but still so deafening that he felt the wind knocked from his lungs.

(Y/N)… is dying…??

Azriel looked at Feyre, hoping for her to elaborate more, trying to catch her eye. He watched as a tiny simper of a smile tugged on her lips, her gaze shifting from you to him. He could tell that she was a breath hesitant to tell your story — especially since you were sound asleep, healing from your relapse.

But all he wanted was to help — and Feyre saw that.

Another sigh escaped his High Lady’s lips before she gently caressed your hand, her sapphire hues dimming as she told your story.

“Do you remember the day, when my sisters were doused into the Cauldron? When Lucien and Elain were made into Cauldron-bound mates?”

How could Azriel forget?

That day had been emotionally and physically taxing to everyone — they weren’t able to break the Cauldron from the clutches of Hybern and the Archeron sisters were forcibly drowned in the Cauldron, taking them away from the mortal life and forced into living as immortal fae.

But he also remembered how broken (Y/N)… And no one knew why.

He didn’t know what was going on, even his shadows barely whispered what happened behind the doors of your room. Azriel wanted to help. But how could he? When he barely knew what was going on with you. His High Lord and Lady keeping everything about you a mystery.

Cobalt blue hues stared into sapphire ones as Feyre continued her monologue.

“…We didn’t know until she told us. She had kept it to herself for months until I noticed it,” Feyre whispered, her voice shaking as hands gently gripped your own, “The cauldron blessed Lucien with two mating bonds—-”

Azriel’s eyes widened.

Two mating bonds? For the Vanserra son?

“—-But Lucien only felt the one with Elain… (Y/N)… Has suffered for months from an unfulfilled mating bond. Me and Rhysand had asked everyone in secret — Helion, even Thesan and Kallias, if they knew anything of her illness… And we only found one line:

“A devastating illness that, if a mating bond is not found nor completed, will force flowers to grow inside the person’s body, slowly suffocating them from the inside. They are practically dying without your mate’s love.”

Azriel’s head spun as he tried to piece together what his High Lady had told him.

You were in a mating bond… with Lucien Vanserra, but he had only felt the golden bond with the middle Archeron sister. And because of the mating bond you had with Lucien, an uncomplete mating bond at that, you had been suffering — for months — from a rare disease… that is slowly killing you from the inside.

Azriel felt his fingers dig into the mattress, curling around the soft comforter.

“…And no one bothered to tell that bastard about his bond with her?”

Teary sapphire hues looked at his own and his High Lady shook her head.

“—- She wished for us not to tell him. She said, in her own words—-

“There is no point in telling him. He does not feel it anyway… He is in love with her, his eyes have never left hers.”

The Shadowsinger felt a pang in his chest, the whispered resignation. The fact that you had given up already without even trying.

All Azriel wanted to do was find the Vanserra son and yell at him for not noticing— your pain, the bond… for not noticing you out of all people.

And how dumb the Vanserra son was for not doing so.

Azriel had always noticed you. He had always watched you as you stood at his High Lady’s side, as her best friend and confidant.

How could he not notice you?

“… And you didn’t want to tell your family about her condition because—-”

“—-It was her choice to make. Everything was her choice. We tried Azriel. Myself, Rhysand, and Mor had tried for years to get her to open up, to tell everyone about her deathly illness. But she wanted to remain in silence… to suffer it alone. And we followed her wishes. You cannot lecture me on what I did not do, Azriel… I wanted to help her, I have been trying to help her. But her choices were her’s alone… And all I could do, as her friend and confidant, was to be there for her… To help her with the pain.”

Teeth bit into lower lip as eyes averted Feyre’s and returned to yours. Azriel watched as your chest rose with every breath you took; on how your complexion got better — how your cheeks dusted with a light pink color, blood returning into them; and how your expression was one of tranquil.

Azriel couldn’t bear to see your face contort into something so pained — to one that he had seen earlier. His heart hurt at the sight of you, hunched over in so much pain. If he had to see it again —-

He couldn’t handle it.

“… What can we do?”

From the corner of his eye, he watched as Feyre shook her head.

“… We’ve tried everything. No magic or potion could help her, nothing to stop the illness from killing her. It’s the damned mating bond that is doing this to her.”

“—- What if she—-”

“If you suggest breaking the mating bond, Azriel, then I can assure you we suggested that. Helion advised us not to do so… If she breaks it, she will die right there and then. It has such a strong grip on her soul, that without it, she is nothing…”

Azriel cursed under his breath.

He didn’t like it.

He didn’t like the fact that they were all going to sit around and do nothing, while this damned curse took your life. He wasn’t someone to be so passive — especially when someone’s life was slowly being taken away from them.

Eyes drifted to his shadows, ones that were gently caressing your arms and moving your hair away from your face. He heard their whispers, begging their master to help you — to save you from your pain, anguish… and loneliness.

His brows furrowed — why were his shadows so attached to you? There were moments in the past few years when his shadows and you interacted. Small moments when they would slide away from him, without him knowing, and they’d be wrapped around your leg or arm, laughter tugging from your lips.

Azriel would apologize profusely for those moments, and you would give him a bright smile, shaking your head.

“I like them… They’re not scary at all, they’re sweet..”

It had taken him aback multiple times — people were usually afraid of his shadows, especially those who were unfamiliar with them. And yet, you were unfrighten by the tendrils of darkness.

Every time you and Azriel were in a room, he watched as his shadows zipped through the room to wrap around your legs, earning a laugh from you. He’d look on with something pulling at his chest before it would go away when he summoned his shadows back.

The two of you would make eye contact, you smiled at him before turning away to do whatever you were doing.

As time went on, those moments would become smaller — especially after the Cauldron incident.

And now Azriel knew why.

With one last look towards you and his shadows, Azriel had a set determination in his cobalt hues.

A groan escaped your lips, eyes fluttering open, blinking away the darkness from your vision before you stared up at the ceiling of your room. You didn’t even know what to feel at that moment.

Your mind was just — empty.

You didn’t know whether to be sad or to cry.

Or to be angry at the Mother.

But you didn’t have any energy to do so.

Your illness to every ounce of your being.

And besides, there was no reason to do any of that… You were far too used to your illness taking over you.

“…(Y/N)…”

Your head snapped towards your left, not even realizing someone was in your room. Your hues locked onto cobalt ones.

“…Azriel…” you croaked out, your voice dry.

You attempted to sit up, your body screaming at you from your movement. All you wanted to do was flop back down, to let your bed take you; but when you felt a dip in the bed and gentle hands wrapped around your shoulders, helping you into a sitting position, your head looked up to watch Azriel’s features contort into concentration.

And you couldn’t help but let out a breathless chuckle.

“…I’m guessing Feyre told you…?” you asked him, your breath nothing but a whisper.

You felt his hand stiffen on your shoulder, and you watched as his shadows leave his side, whirling around in slight panic before zipping back onto your side, as if trying to apologize. A small smile tugged on your features as you glanced up at the Shadowsinger, who looked at you with a worried gaze.

“Don't look like that, Az…” you murmured, resting against the headboard with a sigh, eyes fluttering closed, “Everyone is bound to know… I'm not mad at you anyway…”

His hand slipped away from your shoulders, but you could still feel his presence next to you. You felt those tendrils of shadow slither up your arms and legs, gently caressing your skin.

“—- Are you okay…?”

The question hung in the air momentarily, as you tried to figure out what to say for such a heavy question. You debated — whether to tell your usual answer: I’m fine….

Or to tell the truth.

“—-No, I'm not okay…”

The impact of your answer weighs heavily in your chest, the ache of the bond and your heart resonating through your mind and body.

How long has it been since you accepted that you were not okay? How long has it been since the curse-of-a-bond that you've voiced that you were not okay?

Tears lined your eyes and you tried to blink them away. You couldn't cry, not when Azriel was in your room. You could cry in private — like you've always done.

When a tear slipped down your cheek, you reached up to wipe it away but a scarred hand cupped your cheek to wipe it away.

Your eyes locked onto cobalt ones, your breath held in your chest.

“…It's okay, (Y/N)… You can cry with me.”

The dam burst and a sob escaped your lips, your hands coming up to press against your eyelids as you cried.

Cried about the pain.

Cried about your illness.

Cried about the bond.

Cried about everything.

You felt the dip of the bed again, and gentle and warm arms enveloping you in an embrace and all you could do was lean over, resting your head on Azriel’s shoulder as you sobbed for the rest of the night.

“I don't feel like it Az…” you muttered, fingers gripping the skirt of your dress as you stood at the threshold of the gardens.

Eyes glanced up at the bright afternoon skies before they shifted to the fae standing before you, his hand stretched out for the taking.

It had been a few months since Lucien and Elain’s wedding. A few months after Azriel had found you bent over in pain from your cursed illness.

And a few months after Azriel had seemed to weave his way into your life.

Every day, since that day, Azriel had been visiting you in your room — whether to bring your meals, sit in each other’s presence, or, much like today, coax you out of your room.

You had opted to lock yourself in your room since the reception, not wanting to run into the newlywed couple who had decided to stay at the River House for now. You had desperately wished to remain wrapped in your bubble — you didn’t want to hurt anymore.

But it seemed that Azriel wouldn’t let you do that to yourself.

“…You need fresh air, (Y/N)…” he sighed, “You know—-”

“—-I can’t be holed up in my room forever… I know…” you finished the sentence for him, and you watched as a tiny smile tugged on his ethereal features before he schooled into a stern one, moving his hand slightly to indicate for you to take it.

Teeth bit into your lower lip, looking up at him through your lashes, hoping to get away from your daily dose of sunshine, but the look on Azriel’s face said everything — you were not going to get away so easily.

With a resigned sigh you reached over and slipped your hand in his and a soft smile tugged on his lips as he gently tugged you past the threshold of the large doors to the garden, pulling you close to him as he tucked your hand into the crook of his arm, like the gentleman he was. You felt his shadows slip over your shoulders, acting like a light cooling shawl in the middle of the afternoon. A soft chuckle escaped your lips feeling them curl around your form, the tendrils tickling your skin.

You were so preoccupied that you didn’t notice the soft look in Azriel’s features as he watched you with his shadows.

Another sigh escaped your lips, one of contentment as your eyes fluttered close, allowing the wind and fresh air to take over you, allowing Azriel to lead you through the gardens. You had felt so comfortable being around Azriel the past few months. It felt so natural to grow closer to him — especially since his shadows always seek you out. Your illness seemed to minimize as the time you spent with him grew — that golden bond in your chest slumbering peacefully inside of you.

As if the bond knew that Azriel was someone that you could be safe with — someone you were meant to be around.

And that confused you so much.

You had thought that the bond would sing when you were near your mate — you had hoped that it would do so when you were around Lucien; however, pain and that damned illness was the only thing that came from your wish of being mated to Lucien.

And yet, being with Azriel was much the opposite.

You were happy.

You were content.

You were safe.

You felt him pause mid-step and you tilted your head, eyes opening to look at him. Your eyes locked with his own as he surveyed you momentarily, “…I called your name a few times, (Y/N)… Are you okay?”

A smile tugged on your features and you nodded, “I’m fine… Just content right now…” You slipped your hand from the crook of his elbow and slowly moved to the nearby garden bench. Sitting down with a sigh, you leaned back, eyes staring at the bright blue skies. The sun was high in the sky and she was about to cover her eyes from the bright light when Azriel hovered over you from behind the bench, successfully protecting you.

“Thank you Az…” you hummed out and all the Shadowsinger did was give a hum.

The two of you sat in peaceful silence, allowing the fresh air to consume you. You can’t help but always be glad that Azriel makes you go outside, to bask in the sun and wind.

“It seems that you are having fewer flare-ups of your illness…” his voice reached your ears.

A hum escaped your throat, nodding as your eyes fluttered close, “I think… it’s because I haven’t been near him as much anymore…”

“—- That might be true… But what if it’s a whole different reason…?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, eyes blinking open to look up at him; who, in turn, was looking at you intently with those cobalt hues. The silence between you, now, was suffocating. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you shifted, standing on your feet as you turned to face him.

“…What are you trying to say, Az…?” you felt your voice was shaking, your whole body was.

Azriel stepped around the bench to face you properly, his body close to yours as he looked down at you.

“What if I was your mate?”

It was as if your whole world stopped right in front of your eyes — a ringing echoed in your ears and it seemed that the world became silent. You faltered, stepping back as Azriel reached to steady you on your feet, his hand grasping your forearm.

“—…What—- What do you mean by that?”

Cobalt hues looked at you with sadness and pity, and most of a twinkle of hope resided in the depths of those pools.

“…I talked with Helion recently,” he breathed out, trying to formulate words to explain his revelation, “—-And he said that mating bonds are not all the same. Some bonds radiate and sing, so to speak, when they’re near their mates. Some bonds can be a physical connection, allowing them to tug and pull at the string. Others — and Helion thinks this is what you, we, have — enable them to feel comfortable with their mate.

“I talked it over with Feyre and Rhysand…” he gently held your hand in his, those cobalt hues looking down at him as his thumb gently caressed your knuckles before they locked onto yours. You felt your breath get caught in your throat, and you waited for him to continue, “We believe you were hurting because you thought Lucien was your mate. You felt it with your whole being, and your bond did not like that — that is where your illness came from—-”

Your mind raced. The ringing in your ears started to grow and you could barely listen to the other words that Azriel was telling you.

Your mate wasn’t Lucien.

All these years, your pain was because your golden string wasn’t tied to Lucien — but Azriel instead.

Azriel noticed your eyes were out-of-focus, and he gently cupped your cheek, watching them focus up at him.

“—… Have you noticed how my shadows adore you?”

The question brought you back, feeling those tendrils of shadow gently caress your skin, soothing the anxiety that was slowly building in your chest.

“—- They knew, (Y/N)…” he whispered, lifting your intertwined hands to press a kiss on your knuckles, “They knew we were mates… even before I knew. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours… I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I never realized… But I’ve always noticed you, I’ve noticed your pain, I’ve noticed your happiness. When your eyes with wrinkle with happiness when you laugh, or when you’d hide in your room when you’re suffering.”

Cobalt hues stared into yours, gently squeezing your hands. Your breath picked up, waiting for your illness to burst — something to wake you up from this wonderful dream. Your mind couldn’t keep up.

That all this time.

You had a mate.

“…How long have you’ve known…?” you whispered, fear in your voice.

Were you not good enough before?

Why did Azriel not tell you?

Why did he let you suffer that long with your illness?

“—-Not that long…” he said, voice desperate to have you understand, seeing your mind turn with negative thoughts, “I would have never let you suffer this long, (Y/N). After the wedding…”

You felt yourself stiffen at the memory, the pain echoed through your body.

“I couldn’t—-I couldn’t let you be in pain again…” he whispered, gently pulling you closer to him, his forehead pressing against yours. You felt his breath against your face, warm and comforting.

The shadows that were resting against your skin, swirling excitedly at the contact between the two of you. A light giggle escaped your lips at the movement, eyes moving back up to look up at Azriel, whose gaze was soft and loving.

It threw you off for a breath.

You never realized on how Azriel looked at you. You never noticed him.

But it seemed he had noticed you.

Always.

“I went looked and looked — looked for something to help you with your pain. And when Helion suggested the comfort mate bond… I hoped that was my answer. My shadows loved you, my eyes are always looking for you… Give me a chance, (Y/N)… Let me show you that I have and always will be yours…”

“You look so much better, (Y/N)…”

You looked over your shoulder after smoothing out your Starfall dress and saw Feyre standing at the threshold of your bedroom. That gentle smile on her features told you everything that she was thinking — that she was happy, that you were finally happy.

Cheeks dusted pink as a shy smile tugged on your lips, “—-I feel better, you know?”

And you were better. You started to regain color in your complexion, you started to eat better and you were often out of your room.

The pain that you were so used to, was nothing but a distant memory of the past.

And you wouldn’t exchange this peacefulness for that.

Feyre stepped into the room, gracefully moving so she stood next to you, in front of the large mirror you were standing in front of. Her sapphire eyes looked over your form, watching how Azriel’s shadows curl around your shoulders, whisps of shadow acting like a shawl that kept you protected.

“He’s protective over you isn’t he…” she mused, amusement in her tone.

You chuckled and swirled a finger around one of the shadows that hovered over your shoulder, “—-He is quite overprotective, but so are his shadows. They haven’t left my side since Azriel started to court me…”

It was true. Ever since you agreed in giving Azriel a chance, all those months ago, his shadows had never left your side. Whenever Azriel was not around (which was rare), his shadows would stick by your side, curl around your arms and legs, as if tattoos that were imbedded into your skin.

Your eyes locked with Feyre and both of you let out a laugh, the melody echoing in your room and you could feel the shadows swirl against your skin, excited of the sound.

“Are you happy, (Y/N)?”

The question was heavy — much heavier than you had expected it to be. It was simple words, and yet, it made your chest tight. You looked at your High Lady for a moment, trying to formulate words in your mind on how you felt.

You were happy.

You were content.

And most and foremost, you were absolutely in love.

Azriel made you feel as if the whole world was in your hands. He courted you slowly but surely, made you smile and laugh. He would bring you treats from your favorite bakeries and try them alongside you, bring you to Valeris and allow you to shop to your hearts content. Azriel would be content in bringing you to the gardens where the two of you would lay on a picnic blanket and bask in each other's presence with a book in your hands. He would carry you up to the skies at night, to see if you could reach the stars above as you had told him you were in love with Valeris' skies.

He made you forget any of the pain associated with falling in love. You were on cloud nine every time you were with him.

You have Feyre a smile, one that made the stars twinkle in your eyes, “I am very happy… He makes me very happy…”

Feyre let out a content sigh before she intertwined your arms together, giving you a smile, “Well come on then… We can’t keep him waiting.”

You chuckled and allowed your High Lady to lead you out of your room and down the grand staircase of the River House. There at the bottom of the staircase, you saw your High Lord dressed in all regality. But he wasn’t the one you felt your heart thump for; next to him, Azriel stood in his suit – the color a darker shade than your own. The two of them stood conversing to one another, until Feyre decided to clear her throat, causing them to turn their heads your direction.

You watched as cobalt hues widen when they looked at you, his body stiffening before relaxing. The shadows that clung to your skin spiraled around your arms and legs, showing their excitement despite the stoic nature of your mate.

Feyre led you down the staircase, until only one step was in between you and Azriel. From the corner of your eyes, you watched a please smirk tug on your High Lady’s lips as she was in her mate’s arms, Rhysand tugging her close to her side.

“We’ll leave you two alone. Do enjoy Starfall…” Rhysand commented, mirth and laughter echoing behind the two of them as they left to join the festivities on the balcony.

Cheeks tinged with a dark pink as your fingers crinkled the skirts of your dress, only to have Azriel reach and grasp your hand within his own. He gently tugged you close, allowing you to step down that final stair until you right by his side. Bringing your hand up to his lips, he pressed a kiss on your knuckles, a simper of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

“You look absolutely stunning…” he muttered against your lips, before placing your hand at the crook of his elbow, leading you across the hall.

You watched as he leads you away from the crowded balconies, to the other side of the River House where there was little people around. Both of you stepped onto the empty balcony, the large doors closing behind you.

You were in your own little bubble, your own little world. And all you could focus on was the man that made your heart beat wildly against your chest.

“You look handsome as well, Azriel…” you complimented him and the Shadowsinger just chuckled, pressing you against his side.

“Not as stunning as you. You’re more stunning than the stars that would streak against the night sky…”

You felt your eyes roll, and you playfully shoved Azriel to the side, causing another wave of laughter from the fae. His arm wrapped around your waist again, only to maneuver you so you were looking up at him. Those cobalt hues stared down into your own and your heart thumped harder against your chest.

“Have I proven to you that I’m yours?” he whispered, pressing his forehead against your own.

A light giggle escaped your lips, your hands sliding up his arms so you can gently cup his cheeks and all Azriel did was snuggle his face against your palm, eyes closing to feel you close to him. Your eyes fluttered close, focusing on his breathing as you reached deep within you to feel that golden string – it was calm and glowing inside of you. And you only noticed it when you were with the fae in front of you. You realized, when you were around Lucien or even just thought about him, all you could think about — despite the love you felt for him — was pain, and the burn of the bond in your chest. But with Azriel, you were calm — and happy.

Eyes fluttered open and you noticed him looking at you with so much anticipation, you smiled softly up at him.

“Yes, you’ve proven that you’re mine… But also Azriel…” You leaned up and pressed a chase kiss on his lips, “I’m yours as well…”

The brightest smile tugged on his face as he leaned down to capture your lips in a breathtaking kiss as the skies above the two of you streaked with multicolored stars. The Mother above rejoicing.

👑 General Tag List: @prythianpages . @strangelygreat . @honeybeeboobaa

[anticapitalistclown]

hi!

can I request lookism dads having a dangerous or traumatic experience with their wife and kids? if you're not interested it's fine

wishing you the best

I wish you the best too!

Lookism dads experiencing a dangerous situation

Jake, Gun

Jake

Jake loves his wife and two sons, all of you motivated him to be the best pillar for the family, and a good example for his sons Gi-Seok and Gi-Wook.

It was his turn to take care of the kids while you were sleeping, your toddler Gi-Wook didn't give you a chance to sleep this past nights due to a fever, a fever that you also caught.

Jake was stressed, he had to deal with a problem the new generation of Big Deal had, you being sick in bed, having to make dinner for you and the kids, Gi-Seok wanting dad to read him a book and Gi-Wook painting the walls with your makeup, wait, the walls? Jake rushed to Gi-Wook "stop Gi-Wook!" the youngest started to throw a tantrum and spread your makeup everywhere "dad, can we cuddle?" Gi-Seok who also was showing symptoms of a fever tried to get his father's attention yet Gi-Wook crying and the food burning made Gi-Seok invisible for his father.

Gi-Seok sobbed and between the chaos left home, leaving the door open as the only trace. Jake once he had everything controlled grabbed a booktale and searched for Gi-Seok, only finding the entrance door open. Fear invaded him, and he turned desperate. First he rushed to search around home and then the building you were living in without having a single trace of Gi-Seok. You and your husband ran all the streets searching for your son, in the dark of the afternoon you bumped again into Jake and you both realized that none of you could find him.

Realization hit you both, you fell in your husband's arms and started to cry "my baby" Jake hugged you tight and tried to hide his tears "it's too cold and dark for my baby" you sobbed, Jake pressed his hand on his eyes and started to cry "I'll find him no matter what, I promise" a tiny sob you both recognized made you both reach hope, before Gi-Seok could call your names you both rushed to him "my son" Jake sobbed and hugged him, you brushed Gi-Seok's back "my baby you're so cold" you sobbed and Jake took off his jacket to envelop your son "let's get home, I'll read you all the books, I promise".

Gun

If Gun told his younger self that in a future he would come home to a wife and a daughter his youngest self would try to kill him, just thinking about that made him internally laugh.

You and your daughter Sa-Rang, were waiting for your husband to come back home when an estrange knock on the door made you be cautious "Sa-Rang" you called your daughter, go to your bedroom. You approached the door and your daughter started to tiptoe to her bedroom, before you could even see who was the door opened and slammed you on the floor, your daughter screamed, and two male figures entered home.

You did everything you could to protect your daughter fighting like a beast out of pure desperation, your body felt like it could break yet you still continued to chase after the two kidnappers. Gun will be home soon, you prayed, and when the rain hit your body you finally collapsed on the ground, fainting not before signaling with your bloody hand the way the kidnappers ran with your daughter to your husband.

Gun understood what you meant, he placed the umbrella next to you and without a word he rushed to the way you signaled, he rushed to the car and cursed himself when he saw his father reflected on the tinted window, smashing it and throwing the kidnapper outside, not fighting him until knocking out the driver, he looked at the backseat where Sa-Rang was crying and for the first time he realized his first priority was her before fighting. Gun wanted to kill them for hurting you, he wanted to make them beg for their pathetic lives for trying to take her daughter away from you and him, but watching Sa-Rang crying alone, he didn't hesitate and held her into his arms watching the kidnappers run away "dad is here".

Oh Gun will get a bloody revenge

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

I know your requests are closed so feel free to ignore this but if I don’t type it somewhere I WILL forget it lol. I’ve been re-binge reading your works and just thought of this…

Civilian reader kills someone out of self defense for the first time. And it’s the whole staring at her bloody shaking hands panic attack what have I done fiasco. And her boyfriend or husband helping her through it and dealing with it all (I can see it with Ghost or Price idk)

But yeah feel free to ignore, I know your requests are closed rn

Love your work! You are so talented!

This has been in my inbox for so long, lmao. Sorry for not answering right away - take a few paragraphs w. soft, worried, Simon in compensation.

Warnings for gore, death, blood, panic attack, etc. F!Reader.

Your body shakes violently, blood dripping down like crimson tears from your hands. The overwhelming sense of dread sits with bullet fragment aggression in the delicate make-up of your psyche.

You weren't meant for this.

Not the blood or the terror. Certainly not the body laying out in the hallway.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp out, shuddering as your throat swells in on itself. Your form had slipped down the wall just across from the door not minutes prior, legs weak and heart pounding like a war call. Now all you can do is stare into the vacant eyes of some random burglar—at the knife you'd stuck in his chest when he'd backed you into Simon's office.

It was a miracle that you remembered where your husband's combat blade had been, seen on some off chance when you'd been cleaning. He tries to keep this all separate, you know.

The blood just keeps slipping out of the corpse. It's a pool now, and you don't know how long you'd been huddled like this until the sounds of rampaging feet and hurried yells of your name bounce off your eardrums.

All you can see is the uncleanable amount of red.

Simon had only gone out to the corner store half an hour ago, getting a quick supper so you both could sit in each other's company. You'd been hesitant to watch him leave so soon after getting home, but he'd sworn he'd only be a few minutes.

None of you had thought too much about the local break-ins. After all, Simon was...well, Simon. And he was home.

S-Simon was home.

There's a loud, barked, curse when the body is discovered, stomping feet that make the entire house shake like it was the epicenter of an earthquake. Your husband's form slashes the front of your vision as he kneels in the blood on the floor. Frantic brown eyes behind his balaclava snap from place to place; taking in the familiar handle and blade in nanoseconds. In his left hand he clutches a pistol, white-knuckled.

But you can't even say anything, because you're as still as stone—breathing in concrete as the gravel shreds your vocal cords and trachea. Reality slips in quick streaks of color as Simon's face flashes into the open doorway.

He sees your wide eyes with a mirroring of his own, bone-deep fear striking in his head with a heated pulse.

"Love!" Simon's rushing to you. Your body can't help but startle back, spine shoving into the wall; fingers still saturated and stained.

Inside your chest, your lungs jerk in a strained whimper.

Your husband freezes, one foot ahead with his widened legs as he fights his mind to rush to you and take you into his arms. Simon puts the gun away with little thought to look for more assailants—all that matters is you.

And you looked terrified.

"Hey," hands reach up to this balaclava, slipping the fabric off as he kneels down slowly to one leg. He tosses it to the floor and you try to focus on the strength of his jaw; those scars and pale hairs as your eyes well with tears. A delicate sob builds. "Hey, now. It's just me, alright?"

Simon speaks softly, hands splayed out and a few feet from you. He wishes to hold you tightly but refrains even as his chest tightens at not being able to calm you. The man can't stand that look on your face.

Your fingers curl into shivering fists, "Simon," you cry, finally able to get a solid word out even if it sounds slurred and ragged.

It's all the permission your husband needs.

Simon jerks forward and takes you up into his large arms; the wide encompassing of his palm on the back of your head and the other circling your waist. He angles you away from the body as he glares into it with hatred and vile curses, hissing venom.

When he found the door busted off its hinges, he'd never felt so panicked. Even now as you release a small wail into his neck Simon's heart races, breath coming in short puffs.

"You're alright, Sweetheart. You're alright. I'm right 'ere." You sag into him, grabbing at his leather jacket with nails digging into the brown material. Simon nuzzles his nose into your scalp, muscles tense, "Breathe, it's over."

All you can focus on is Simon's scent, his words. They're the only thing keeping you from oblivion. Eventually, as your husband rocks you back and forth, you can gasp enough air down to push away the black at the sides of your vision.

"That's right," he whispers, gritting his teeth. "Good girl, keep focusin' on me, yeah? You're doin' perfect." Simon doesn't care about the blood or the screams of sirens in the distance.

For the first time in his life, he doesn't care if someone else happens to see his face.

Your husband pulls his head back and shifts his hold to your cheeks, angling your runny and chilled face upwards. He grits his teeth and his eyes bleed with concern; fear.

"...He do anything?" You can only make out half the words as the sounds all huddle together in a ringing tone, but you shake your head in small flinches. Lips find your forehead—heated and firm. Muttered words. "Did so good, Love, I'm so proud of you. S'not your fuckin' fault, you hear?"

Sniffling, you only whimper once more before lips kiss away your tears; thumbs coming up after to swipe at the remnants. Curling over you, this beast—defined so often as ruthless and deadly—shields you from the image of the man you'd killed in self-defense like a demon of smoke and ash. Holding you as if he can make everything else disappear.

After all, you weren't meant for this. You were meant for your soft skin and your loving eyes. Everything else that Simon tied himself to you for—goodness.

"Simon," you gasp again and shove your face into his chest. For the life of you, you can't say anything else. He knows what you mean.

"I'm here," he repeats. Caressing the back of your head, his hand tenses and softens with leaving adreanaline. "Nothin'll happen to you again. It's all gonna be alright."

You believe him.

[ravenromanova]

Mine

Pairings: Bucky x Female avenger

Warnings: Mentions of self deprecating, Sharon carter (she’s always a warning) Smut 18+ (breeding kink, metal arm kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral, p in v)

Summary: Bucky cant stand the thought of his girl flirting with someone else other than him.

Word count: 3.3k+

Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!

If looks could kill let’s just say John walker would’ve been dead the second Bucky saw you with him. Was it Bucky’s place to be jealous? No especially after he broke off your little fling a few weeks ago. But that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous at the sight of his girl with that insect.

You had been flirting and talking with walker for the past hour much to your displeasure. In all reality the only reason you had even came up with this plan in the first place, was to piss off a certain super soldier. He deserved it after he had broken your heart and left you a broken mess of a person. So even though you despised walker you flirted as if you loved the man.

*Flash back to two weeks ago*

You had just come back from a three week long mission and you were exhausted. But you were also really excited to see Bucky again. You and him and started kinda seeing each other a few months ago. At first it wasn’t much other than just sex but it quickly became more than that… at least for you.

When you had gotten back to the compound you immediately went to take a shower before going to see him. You had done all your normal things before you slipped into Bucky’s favorite black lingerie set of yours on. Once you were satisfied with how you look you sauntered over to Bucky’s room on the same floor.

You softly knocked on the door and heard a soft ‘come in’. When you opened the door you saw him sprawled out on his bed in nothing but sweatpants.

“Hello solider” Your voice was seductive as you crawled on his bad and straddled him. Bucky didn’t say anything as you sit on his lap he didn’t even touch you like normal. A frown formed on your face at his lack of affection. What came next surprised you as well as broke your heart. Bucky put his hands on your waist and moved you off of him.

“Not in the mood Y/n” He said harshly as he sat on the edge of his bed with his back to you. Your heart tightened at his words and you felt like your world just came crashing down.

“Did something happen? Are you okay my love” The words came out a little more shaky then you would’ve liked as you spoke. You sat next to time and tried to hold his metal hand and he ripped it away from you. Tears formed in your eyes as he stood up and got off the bed leaving you there alone.

“Did i do something?” Your voice cracked and he turned to look at you. His demeanor was stiff and his eyes are dark. He scoffed as he looked at you and ran his hand through his long hair.

“You’re just too much” Bucky blurted out and that’s when the dam broke and the tears fell.

“What?” You choked out as you covered your mouth to muffle the sobs.

“You’re too much for me and i cant do this anymore” The bluntness of his words cut you deep. In that moment you didn’t know what to say or do so you just left his room in tears. You ran to your room and locked the door. You didn’t know what to think or feel all you knew is that you were broken.

What you didn’t see though was how Bucky broke down when you left the room. Truthfully you weren’t too much and he knew that. The reason he broke it off was because no other than Sharon got in his head. She had come up to him after you left for your mission asking him what you two were. He responded with ‘we are just hanging out for now. But when she gets back im making it official.’ To which Sharon scoffed.

She proceeded to tell him that if he thinks a sweet and innocent girl like you, would love a man like him that he was insane. Sharon went on for fifteen grueling minutes about how much of a monster he was and you deserved better. And he believed it and so that night he swore to himself that he’d step away from you. No matter how much it hurt he couldn’t break you and taint you.

And that was the last time you had spoke for two weeks

*End flashback*

That day haunts Bucky like a ghost haunting its old home. He knew he had hurt you by what he did. But in his mind he did the best thing he could for you he set you free. It’s not that he thought he was a bad person now he knew he wasnt, it was his past. Bucky thought that if you truly knew all the evil things he had done like Sharon said then you wouldn’t love him anymore.

His time in Hydra was awful and the things they made him do were worse. How could anyone move past that? How could anyone love the broken man he’d become? How could you love him?

Bucky’s self deprecating thoughts were cut off as he saw walker get a little too close. He had placed his hand on your waist and brought you in closer to him. That simple and small movement was enough for the solider to see red. He knew he shouldn’t, he knew he had no place but he wasnt thinking clearly as he approached you and walker.

He was silent as he approached but you noticed him out of the corner of your eye. You can see the metaphorical daggers he is shooting to the man in front of you. You dont pay Bucky any mind as you continue your conversation smirking ‘cause you know what lies ahead.

He comes up behind you and wrap his metal arm around your waist. A smirk is quick to form on your lips as your turn around to face the solider.

“Can i help you James?” You ask playing dumb looking at with dumbly. His hands find your hips and he squeezes them and brings you closer.

“Мой” (mine) He husks out in russian and you smirk up at him. You both are quickly reminded that John is still present when you hear him clear his throat.

Bucky looks up at walker and shoots him a look that tells him to get lost. John doesn’t say anything as he just grabs his drink, nods and walks away.

“Это был довольно грубый солидер. Я был в середине разговора” (That was quite rude solider, I was in the middle of a conversation) The words are taunting as they come out and you earn a grunt in response. He doesn’t say anything as he takes your hand and leads you away from the party.

His grip on your wrist is firm but not hard since he doesn’t wanna hurt his girl..yet. Bucky leads you up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. You don’t have time to ask what he’s doing as you’re suddenly pressed against his door.

“Bucky wait-“ You breathe out as his hips find their way to your neck. He doesn’t stop as you weakly plead.

“Bucky stop-“ And that’s what gets him to stop what he’s doing and back away a little too worried of hurting you or scaring you.

“What? What happened?” He asks almost as if you two hooking up is still normal. You look and him and roll your eyes before even attempting to speak.

“What do you mean what?” You scoff at him as you sit on the edge of his bed looking up at him. “You tell me i’m too much and that you dont want me but then go and do some shit like this” Tears form in your eyes out of frustration and Bucky looks like he’s just been stabbed.

“Doll- i know i fucked up” He sighs and he gets on his knees in front of you. “I pushed you away and made you think i didn’t want you because i was scared” His hands land on your soft thighs and then he softly kisses your inner thigh. “I was scared that you wouldn’t be able to love me for my past, That the things i’ve done would turn you away from me” His words come out a little broken as his blue eyes meet your gaze.

“It also didn’t help that i had someone telling me i wasnt good enough for you” Rage filled your veins at his confession.

“Who” You cut him off before he got the rest of his words out. His grip tightens on your thigh as he lets out a deep breath.

“Sharon, She had asked me what we were when you had left for the three week long mission. Short story short when i told her i planned on making us official when you got back she told me that you deserved better. That you might think im a good person now until you heard about the things i was forced to do. She also made a comment about the arm” His eyes move to his metal arm as he makes a fist with it.

Anger, Sadness and Love fill your body as he finishes speaking. Anger because Sharon really thought that this beautiful man was a monster. Sadness because he believed her words and thought he was a monster. And love because this was the first time he has ever been vulnerable and open like this with you.

You reach your hands out and cup his cheeks and bring him up to your face. “I dont think you’re a monster. Then or now. I think you’re the most beautiful soul in the world Bucky. I wish you would’ve told me about this because i would’ve put all those fears to bed. I know some of the things you did in Hydra. But i also know that you didn’t have a choice, that you didn’t want to do those things” Nothing but love and honesty laces your voice as you speak.

Bucky looks at you like he just might melt at your words. He finds the courage to slowly close the gap between you two with a passionate kiss. All the love you two have for on another is poured into this one kiss.

After a few minutes you break the kiss and come up for air as you both pant. “And as for the arm” You say grabbing the dark grey and gold arm and smile at it. “Is the sexiest thing i think i’ve ever seen” His metal arm whirs as he makes a fist and grunts at your words.

“Dont say things like that Malysh” He husks against your lips. You get a surge of confidence and grab his metal hand and place it on your inner thigh.

“Why not?” The faux innocence drips off your tongue as you look at with with doe eyes. You can feel the grip of his metal hand tighten on your thigh as you groans. What you don’t know is he is fighting an internal battle right now. A part of him wants to absolutely devour you and the other part doesn’t want to hurt you and wants to cherish you.

“Because i wont be able to control myself if you continue” He says honestly as all traces of self control slowly fade away as you grip his hand.

“What if i dont want you to? What if i want you to ruin me solider?” And that’s all the needs before his head is dipping under your dress and slipping off your panties.

He lifts your dress to your hips before he dips his tongue into your wet folds. His hands spread your pussy and focuses on sucking your clit which had you screaming.

“oh fuck-“ You moan as Bucky picks up his pace and sucks at a faster pace. He looses himself in the way that you taste. Bucky eats your pussy as if he’s never eaten before, They way he devours you can only be described as feral.

“fuck i’ve missed your pussy malysh” He moans into your clit as he slowly adds two fingers into you.

“i’ve missed you daddy” You mewl as his fingers hit that spongey in you when he curls his fingers up. Bucky smirks at you as you moan and picks up his pace as he fucks his fingers into you.

“you’re mine” He grunts and brings his face up to yours. “You hear me malysh? You’re fucking mine. No one else’s. This pussy is mine and so are you” As he finishes his sentence that’s when you claw at his back and scream as you hit your climax.

“Fuck yes im yours!” You say as you try to catch your breath. He smiles he leans in and kisses you with more passion that earlier. You moan as you taste yourself on his tongue. The kiss goes on for what feels like forever until Bucky breaks it and looks at you.

His hands rub up and down your sides and he grows frustrated that you’re still in your dress. So Bucky being Bucky rips your dress off of you and leaves you naked at the edge of his bed.

“Much better” He smirks and then rids himself of his own clothes. Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock standing at attention. He motions for you to lay against the headboard and you do as your told and wait for his next instruction.

“Now im gonna remind you who you belong to malysh.” He husks as he crawls over to you and hovers over you. You eagerly nod your head and slowly take his cock in your hand. His head flys back at the contact and he lets out a guttural moan.

You pump his cock a few times before he stops you and pushes himself in you without warning. “OH FUCK!” The moan comes out broken as it passes your lips. He bottoms out quickly but he doesn’t move as he waits for you to adjust to his size.

“move” You whisper as you pull his face towards you and place your lips on his. Bucky wraps his arms around your neck and thrusts into you at a medium pace. The both of you moan in satisfaction when he moves against your g-spot.

“You feel so good baby, i almost forgot what is like being in this pretty little pussy” His words are filthy as they come out and you can help but be even more turned on.

He continues to thrust into you and kiss your g-spot with the tip of his cock every thrust. Bucky dips his head down and grabs a nipple and starts sucking as he thrusts get harder.

“Yes-yes oh fuck” The moan that comes out of your mouth is straight out of a porno. He doesn’t say anything as he takes his metal hand as wraps it around your throat and lightly squeezes. Your mind goes blank and fuzzy as the pleasure builds in your stomach.

“Fucking shit babydoll i can feel you squeezing my cock. Keep doing that and im gonna fill you up and fuck a baby in you.” His words unlock something in you as he speaks. Were you aware of your breeding kink before? no. But you sure as hell love the idea of carrying his kids.

“Do it. Fuck a baby into me daddy” You egg him on as you feel yourself about to cum again.

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you baby? You’d love to carry your soldiers seed wouldn’t you? You’d love to be my breeding whore wouldn’t you?” His questions are clearly rhetorical but you nod your head in response not being able to form words right now.

“Fuck baby im gonna cum” He moans as his pace starts to get sloppier and you get closer and closer to your high.

“FUCK!” You scream as you cum all over his cock. That’s when he grabs your hips and fucks you relentlessly as he reaches his high.

“Oh fuck malysh gonna fucking fill you up.” He moans as he finishes inside of you. But he doesn’t stop fucking you as he fucks his cum into you since he really does want to get you pregnant.

“Too sensitive” You protest as he grinds his hips into you. He stops his movements and nods his head then slowly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

“You did so good baby. just sit here for a minute okay?” And then Bucky leaves you on the bed real quick while he grabs a cold cloth to clean you off with. When he comes back he sees you sprawled out on his bed and smiles softly.

“Come here baby” He say as he gets in between your thighs and uses the wet cloth to clean you up. You squirm as the cold hits your core but you soon relax and enjoy the feeling of him cleaning you.

Once he’s done he throws the rag on the floor and moves to put you both under the covers. He pulls you to him so you are laying in his chest. You absentmindedly grab his metal hand and start playing with it and watching the light of the moon bounce off it.

“It really is beautiful” The words are barley audible as you say them but he heard them and smiled. He feels all his worries and fears melt away as he looks at you.

“Y/n?” He asks softly as his blue eyes look at you with anxiety.

“Yes my love?” Bucky’s cheeks go bright red at the pet name and he tries to compose himself before responding.

“I know i fucked up and i know that i dont deserve it but will you give me another chance and officially be my girl?” His nerves are starting to get the best of him as you just look at him for a moment.

“Of course i will solider” In that moment Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders as you respond. He leans your head up and kisses you in a soft and loving manner. When he breaks the kiss he just looks down at you with love and admiration.

“I love you doll” Your eyes widen at his confession not because it was too soon or anything but because he’s never said that to you before. Your heart melts at his words and your eyes fill with tears.

“I love you too solider” You whisper the words against is lips before you kiss him again.

And the rest of that night was filled with showing one another just how much love the other had. Bucky smiled down at you after you had fallen asleep and just admired you for a while before he fell asleep as well. He felt at peace with you in his arms again and he vowed to himself that he’d never hurt or let you go again.

~ Little bonus scene~

The next morning when you had woken up you were on a mission. And luckily for you your target was very easy to find. You walked into the kitchen in one of Bucky’s henley’s and walk up to your target. It took both you and her by surprise when you had pushed her up against a wall and held her by her neck.

“You ever disrespect him again and i will not hesitate to kill you and hide the body somewhere they will never find it” You spat as Sharon just stared at you with wide eyes. She immediately nodded and once you out her down she was gasping for air.

“crazy bitch” She coughed out as she rubbed her neck to soothe the pain. You smirked at her before walking back to Bucky’s room and slipping back in bed with him as if nothing ever happened.

~the end~

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other cites

[dameronology]

complex (logan)

summary: honestly i was just listening to complex by katie macleod and i started typing and this is what happened, it's only 800 words but hey-ho.

warnings: arguments, so much swearing, logan is kind of a dick

Your residual anger hung thick in the air like heat in the summer.

Your apartment was full of signs—little reminders of your argument, tiny clues to point to the hurt in your chest. The blankets on the sofa were still tangled from where Logan had slept there last night. There were two empty bottles of whisky beside a smashed plate on the coffee table, matched with angry claw marks where he'd made the wooden structure his victim. Most obviously, you and the man you loved stood on each end of the room and the argument, chests heaving from shouting and fists balled up with rage. 

"I fucking hate you," you declared.

"No, you don't," Logan deadpanned, "you hate me right now, but really, you love me."

"Don't," you paused, taking a deep breath, "don't tell me how to feel."

"But you're allowed to tell me how to feel, huh?" he challenged.

There was another strangled sigh in your mouth. You couldn't keep sighing. You needed to come up with something new. Yelling had never been your thing. Maybe Logan's, but not yours. He hadn't even yelled for this entire fight. There had been heated exchanges, sure, but even in his most frustrated moments, he hadn't dared raise his voice. He had that much self-control.

"I can't look at you," your eyes fell to the floor.

Logan let out a snort. "Can't look at me, huh? Can't look me in the eye?"

This whole thing had started because the furry fucking moron had said something stupid. Then, he'd made it even worse when you'd pointed it out. It was like Logan had brought himself a proverbial shovel and was rewarding himself by digging a hole. He was ten feet down, and he couldn't see anything, save if he looked up and saw you glancing down at him with bleary eyes in his self-sustained grave. You could have reached down your hand to help him out but it was too far.

"Fuck. You."

Your chest heaved as you shoved past him, shoulders hitting his with a thud. Logan had barely even processed what had happened before the bedroom door slammed in his face. The force caused a picture on the shelf beside it to fall, the glass smashing into three separate pieces. He leant down to pick it up, turning the frame over. It was a picture of you at Coney Island two years ago; the wind was blowing your hair back, faced pressed to Logan's as he scowled. They were sweeter times.

Logan glanced up at the ceiling - or the sky, whatever the closest thing is.

"Whoever the fuck is up, that's not fucking funny."

He stopped at the door.

To say his heart broke when he heard you crying on the other side would be an understatement. There was a lot of sounds that Logan hated; his ring tone, his alarm sound in the morning, Wade Wilson's voice...but above all, the sound of you crying felt like a punch to the throat. It was even worse for him to know that he was the one who caused it.

Logan didn't stop before he opened the door. He booted it, body crossing the room in seconds to meet you at the bed. You were curled up, hugging his pillow to your chest and crying into yours.

He fell to his knees beside you, warm hands pulling your arms away from your face and towards him instead. A pair of strong arms came to wrap around you and in seconds, you were pressed to his chest.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, "don't cry. Please don't cry. Punch me, slap me, fuckin' kill me if you want but please don't cry."

A little sob escaped your throat. "You're so frustrating."

"I know," Logan gave you a small smile, "christ, I know. And I am so fucking sorry."

He re-centred you on the bed, organising the pillows so that they were behind you. The mattress dipped beside you as he climbed under the covers, pulling you back into his side. You were still glaring at him, still refusing to throw you a ladder down his special grave.

"I let my anger get the best of me sometimes," Logan said, "maybe I don't shout at you or get angry the way I do at other people, but it...it manifests in more fucked up ways, I think. I like arguing. I love riling people up. I don't like doing that to you, though."

"You did, though."

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmured. "I'm trying my best. I know my best is absolute bullshit but...I am trying."

You tangled your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze. "I know. It's okay if you want to keep trying."

Logan softly smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too."

[arminsumi]

HELLOOO THERE!! Can I request gojo dating reader because of a bet with suguru and falling for reader, reader doesn’t know and was hurt when they overheard they’re just a bet, angst to fluff pls 🫶🫶🫶

thank youuuu, hope your having a good day!!

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐈𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

A/N: u have no idea how much i LOVE this idea anon!!! 💗💗💗 i really hope i did it justice 😩

Wc ≈ 1.4k

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader

Summary: Suguru betted that Gojo could make anyone fall in love with him, even someone who was his complete opposite — like you.

Warnings; angst-to-fluff, angst contents — {self-loathing (Gojo), crying, heartbreak}, a little bit suggestive at the end, kissing/making out

♪ michelle

It was nice while it lasted.

The handholding in public, the stolen cheek kisses, the pampering and spoiling, relishing in the jealous looks thrown your way when he fed you bites of his food in the cafeteria, bathing in Gojo Satoru's affection. A lot of people would have killed for your position, or even a glimpse into what it's like to date your college's biggest heart throb.

You two seemed to really like each other. It was like two mismatched puzzle pieces somehow fitting together — a fascinating connection was shared. No one would have put you and him together, not even Gojo.

The only reason he asked you out in the first place was...

"Suguru, that's such a nasty idea... I love your mind."

"Just don't actually fall in love with her. The whole idea of this bet is that you can prove any girl can fall in love with you, don't forget that."

Gojo had chuckled at this, it seemed so ridiculous.

Why would he actually fall in love with you? You weren't even his type. He never paid you a sparing glance, not at school, not at parties, not around town.

You weren't his type...

So why did his heart start panging excitedly a few months into your 'fake' relationship? Why did he swoon when you fell asleep laid on his chest in his dorm room? Why did he want to kiss you so badly every time he saw your face? Why did he jump like a cat whenever he got a text from you? Why did he kiss you like the world was ending?

And why did he cry when you found out the truth? He looked distraught when Suguru let the secret slip.

Why did Gojo Satoru, the strongest, beg on his knees for you to stay when you were about to walk away?

"Please! I'm so sorry! I know it was so wrong and fucked up — shit I regret it so much — I really like you! I swear to god, I swear on my life!"

You choked on your tears so badly that you could barely talk. "I can't believe you. This is such a fucking horrible th - thing to do to s - someone, Gojo."

He felt so hurt that you went back to calling him Gojo and not Satoru, like you used to when the two of you were just mild acquaintances.

"Don't go!" He almost yelled.

His arms wrapped around your midriff, he slid down like he was too weak to support himself — like his legs went limp. He slid down until he was clinging to your legs. He sobbed with such a genuine-looking crying face that you almost believed it. He wasn't play-crying like he does to get attention or persuade people, he was ugly-crying.

Gojo Satoru, the prettiest boy you ever knew, was an ugly-crier. A string of saliva glistened between his canines, his mouth hung open like a dramatic renaissance portrait of a distraught man. His eyes were pinched so tight that fat tears cascaded out the corners.

"Please don't go!"

⁕⁕⁕

Suguru found his best friend sat in the middle of the campus' main stairs. Desolate. One hand holding up his heavy head. Regretful. eyes closed.

"So it didn't go well?"

Satoru didn't raise his head, but he slowly opened his eyes and looked miserably at the floor. He watched a line of ants.

"It went as horribly wrong as you could imagine." he responded eventually.

Suguru came to sit next to him. "Are you really in love?" he asked him seriously.

"Of course I fucking am! — sorry..." Satoru snapped, then immediately mumbled an apology.

A long summer breeze went by.

"Try again." he suggested, "I'm sure she'll - "

"She fucking hates me."

There was a heavy silence after Satoru said that.

"If I were her, I'd hate me too." Satoru muttered.

Suguru went silent. He felt guilty, after all, he was the one that dared his best friend to do something as stupid as play with your heart.

Satoru watched the ants scurrying along. He felt as puny and weak as one right then. The realization of these feelings themselves are what urged him to abruptly stand up.

"I'm not giving up. I'm gonna explain to her that I really did fall in love — that I really do fucking like her so god damn much it's insane and stupid."

"That's the spirit — where are you going?" Suguru asked curiously as Satoru began heading over to the parking lot.

"I'm gonna go bring her flowers and... stuff..." he replied unsurely.

Will that really work? He wondered to himself.

"But it's gonna rain." Suguru said, "Heyyy, Satoru, listen don't just — ah, there he goes... idiot really fell in love when I warned him not to..." he muttered pitifully.

⁕⁕⁕

There was a knock at your apartment door.

You wrung it open to reveal a heartbroken Gojo Satoru, soaked-through with rain, standing in the downpour, panting while holding onto a bouquet of vividly red roses. You couldn't have witnessed a more dramatic scene in a movie.

His hair was completely flat with wetness. There were raindrops running down his cheeks and dripping off his chin.

On the walk to your apartment, Satoru had mentally written a speech for you.

It was definitely a well-rehearsed heartbroken boy's 'take me back' speech. Flawless and direct. Surely it would have sufficed.

But he didn't say even the first few words of his practiced speech when your door flew open.

All he did was break down crying and fall to his knees right in front of you, like some dramatic actor — except he wasn't acting, you could feel the realness of his regrets and miseries through each sob.

"Satoru..." you looked down at him pitifully. "Come inside, you're gonna get sick." you said tenderly.

For some reason, those very small words communicated more emotions than any form of 'I love you' ever could.

⁕⁕⁕

His pretty nose was slightly upturned. You noticed that when he first kissed you after your third date.

You noticed it again when you observed how red it had become from crying and sneezing.

Wrapping a blanket around him. Drying his hair. Fluffing it with your fingers. Making him some tea. Sitting him down on your bed. Putting on a movie. Letting him curl up into your arms — something he never did when you two were 'dating' because he was convinced he had to show off his dominance to win you over.

All of this together settled the air between you two. But it still didn't explain everything.

"Why'd you do something so dumb?" you asked him half-humorously.

He nibbled and chewed on his lip, eyes on the TV — not really, actually they were looking at your subtle reflection within it.

"I'm an asshole." he admitted.

"You don't say." you chuckled.

He felt bad, and uncurled his body and raised his face to look at you. Satoru never wore a serious expression in all the time you've known him, both as acquaintances and 'lovers' — except for now, which is how you know it's true.

"I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you. Suguru dared me because... well, because it seemed comical. We're opposites, no one would ever put us together right? But he and I thought that was a hilarious challenge. We wanted to see if I could catch you and make you fall in love with me, or something like that..."

He started mumbling his words and refused to look at you.

"Satoru."

"Yeah?"

He reared his head up at you.

"Did it mean something to you, the time we spent this summer?"

He didn't hesitate to respond, "It meant everything." he said.

"Well, then there we go." you said with a little smile.

"Am I being forgiven...?"

"Mhm."

He seemed taken aback and unsure. Was he really being forgiven? Were you reversing the script on him and pulling a trick on him now?

"Does this mean..." he mumbled quietly, "... that I'm allowed to kiss you right now?" he asked nervously, heart panging, eyes giving your lips a longing glance.

"You're such an idiot." you sighed, "Yeah of course it means you can kiss m — mmmf!"

You never managed the rest of your words out, they all got muffled on Satoru's lips. His hand came to cup your right cheek, fingers caressing your skin like you meant everything to him. He tilted his head into the kiss, broke apart for air, dove back in, kissed you feverishly fervently violently eagerly — with so much affection and thankfulness that you almost couldn't breathe due to being smothered.

"Sorry..." he panted after breaking the kiss, bottom lip glistening with saliva. "I'm sorry for breaking a heart as good as yours."

"Just don't do it again." you told him in a whisper.

The poor boy, two days without kissing was really too much for him. He went right back in and kissed you blue, until you gasped and subconsciously wrapped your legs around his slim waist and pulled him closer. His whole body felt hot and eager. You tasted so good, you looked so good, you loved him so good — he decided right there in the back of his mind that he'd marry you after graduation.

[holidayinhell]

CWs: discussion of future torment/ alludes to noncon

“How are you going to— h-how are you going to kill me?”

 “Why?”

Whumpee shrugged weakly.

“Dunno. Lots of ways, Whumpee.” He traced Whumpee's hollow cheek lightly with his index finger. “I can’t pick only one. Gotta see all the different ways I can make ya squirm.”

The younger man wasn’t phased by the answer. He was used to the psychopath’s brutal honesty.

“What’s your favorite way to kill someone?”

It was the terror that he relished, not the act of killing itself. Getting them on the table was the height of the excitement for Whumper. The torture was enjoyable to a point, but by the time the endorphins kicked in the whole thing became work as usual. Not that Whumpee needed to know that.

“However I kill you will be my favorite, I guess.” His eyes grew wide, flashing wickedly in the fluorescent light. 

“So, what’s your favorite way to die?”

Whumpee tried to fight the shiver that wracked his spine.

“Curled up in my bed at 95.”

“Funny.” Whumper remarked dryly. 

Whumpee was painfully aware that the deadline was only three days away. He knew his family could never afford the ransom, even if they sold everything they owned. 

There was no world in which Whumpee lived past the week.

“I just… I was wondering what happens when...”

“Time’s up?”

The gaunt man nodded.

“Ain’t long now,” the killer shifted his weight to stand. “You’ll see for yourself.”

“Wait!” Whumpee shot out his arm, impulsively clutching the bottom of Whumper’s elbow. “Don’t go.”

Whumper turned back to his captive, crumpled on the floor. It was late and he was exhausted from the day, but he couldn’t resist the desperation in Whumpee’s pleading eyes.

“Just tell me what’s gonna happen.” Whumpee begged. “I need to know.”

"It doesn't matter" Whumper dismissed.

"Come on." Whumpee wasn't budging an inch. "You're right, it doesn't matter. So tell me."

“All you need to know is this: when the ransom is up, you're mine, and I can do whatever I like to you.”

Whumper gently traced the curve of Whumpee’s bottom lip with his thumb.

“Maybe you’ll like some of it too.”

“I don’t think so.” He responded blankly.

“Mmm.” Whumper retracted his hand from the man’s face. “Good thing you won’t have any choice in the matter.”

Powerless to fight the deluge of tears leaking from his exhausted eyes, an aching sadness took hold of Whumpee. Tears rolled over his cheeks, but he didn’t sob. He was beyond hollow at this point, completely numb.

A piece of his heart broke for his former self when Whumpee had the cold realization that he would probably never see the sky again. He cursed his weakness, his inability to defend himself. His entire life he had been too shy, too soft. What a waste he'd been.

In a tone barely above a whisper, Whumpee pitifully murmured: “I don’t wanna die.”

Whumper scooped up the trembling man from the floor, his strong arms wrapping around Whumpee in a confusing display of dominance and affection.

It was a feigned act of compassion, but the warmth of human contact felt good anyways. This time, Whumpee allowed the touch to comfort him.

Whumper offered no reassurances to the shell of a man quaking in his arms, he didn’t say it’s okay I would never hurt you, you’re my favorite—he didn’t say it because it wasn’t true. He wasn’t holding Whumpee tightly in his arms to comfort him. He held him close to feel Whumpee shake with fear.

Three days left. Only seventy-two hours.

“I like you, but the same rules apply to you as everyone else here.”

Whumpee pulled out of the hug, shuffling backwards.

“You said I was your favorite.” He wiped his leaking face with the back of his hand, sniffling. “Was that even true?”

“Yeah.” Whumper chuckled lightly. “You’re sweet.”

"Then why would you—" The tears surged again, cutting him off. "—how could you...?"

“I won’t touch your pretty face. Does that make you feel better?”

“I don’t know.” He snorted loudly to halt the mucus dripping from his nose. Whumpee struggled to maintain a façade of emotionlessness, but his body betrayed him at every turn. He took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly, centering his mind. 

“Just walk me through it. Just once. I need to know what happens.”

“Fine.”

Whumper crouched, locking his cold eyes with Whumpee's.

“It starts off the same for everyone. First I’m gonna have you go to the bathroom. If you’re good for me, maybe I’ll even let you use the one upstairs, the nice one. Sometimes people refuse to go and end up pissing on the exam table-- don’t do that. If you piss or anything when you’re strapped down, I’ll rub your fuckin’ face in it, so just go.”

“Okay.”

“Then you’ll strip down. Don’t put up a fight on that either. You won’t win.”

Whumpee nodded.

“I’ll take you to the room at the end of the hall. You know the one. Maybe I’ll have to tie you up, but if you’re a good boy that day I won’t need the ropes.”

An evil smile spread across Whumper's face. “The table is gonna feel cold on your skin. I'll have you lay back and once you lay down... Use your imagination. Anything could happen. I haven’t exactly planned it all out.”

“Yes you fucking have.” Whumpee bit back.

Whumper was taken aback. He was right of course, but he’d never heard the man swear before.

“Sure. I’ve thought about it.” Whumper chuckled. “I don’t think sharin’ every minute detail is gonna help.”

“Just tell me,” Whumpee urged. 

Whumper looked down and sighed, his impatience mounting.

“Are you going to fuck me?”

“Yes.” He answered truthfully. “Among other things.”

It felt like a train crashed into Whumpee’s gut. It was happening. It was really happening.

“Will it--will it hurt?”

“A little. But I’ll try to make you feel good.”

“No I mean. After.”

“Oh." He patted the man's shoulder. "Yeah. It’s gonna hurt, Whumpee.”

As much as he didn’t look forward to sacrificing his special, trembling boy to some faceless nobody on the dark web, the money was too good to pass up. The truth was, Whumpee was worth far more dead than alive. Even if his family had managed to pull together enough funds for the payout, it was miniscule compared to what his buyer was willing to pay for the video.

“That’s enough for now. It’s late.” The killer made his way to the exit, the heels of his boots clicking against the tiles.

“Am I allowed to make a final request?” Whumpee called to his captor's receding form.

"I don't do that," the man said coldly, glancing over his shoulder.

“Please. It’s not a lot.”

"What?" Whumper snapped, impatience evident in his tone.

“C-can I please write a letter to my friend?”

The killer rubbed his exhausted eyes, sighing as he eyed the reinforced steel door.

“Please.”

“Fine, Whumpee. Whatever. You can write to your friend. I’ll get you some paper. Write a fuckin’ novel for all I care.”

“Thank y--.” 

Whumper yanked the heavy door closed behind him, silencing Whumpee’s appreciation with a decisive shove, the thick thud echoing in the corridor. He had no intention of actually delivering Whumpee’s letter to anyone; but at that point he’d do anything to shut up Whumpee’s insistent questioning. 

Still, a flicker of curiosity burned within him as he wondered what Whumpee might write.

((sequel is in progress, here's more Whump))

[threepandas]

Bad End: Trust

"Meet your new mates, cargo! Get breeding!"

I didn't understand the bellowed noises at the time. It was just incoherent gibberish. Heaped on top of what was likely a concussion, mixed with what ever drugs they had pumped me with. Thrown into a cell, roughly, and hitting the ground hard. I couldn't have caught myself if I had wanted too. My limbs, unresponsive and dragging meat, that I could barely FEEL.

Please, god, I had thought. Don't let me be paralyzed. Not on top of everything else.

They'll kill me.

Behind and around me, the weeping cries of sorrow and fear rang out. Screams of violence, born of desperation. Countless races, bound together, suffering in this hell. Newly enslaved. I didn't... I couldn't understand. Shaking and struggling to remain conscious, laying on the blood stained floor. The world swayed violently. It was all I could do, to barely keep from passing out.

It was so cold. The air, the floor, the deep and clawing despair, sinking like knives into my gut. Those furry... things, had grabbed me while I was alone, before I could react. W-would anyone notice? Could anyone DO anything? I wanted to get away from the door. Curl up in a corner and... and cry. But I could not move. Like a doll, dropped thoughtlessly on the floor, I could not... could not move.

Tears I likely could not afford, threatened to choke me.

I... I was scared.

Then, deeper in the hovel that was my new home, movement. The heavy clink of chains. Shifting, slow and careful, followed by the drag of metal. A warm hand. Fingers, calloused but careful, checking my neck. My pulse, for injury perhaps, I couldn't tell. But... god, i could have sobbed in relief. They... they felt human.

How terrible of me. That I was GLAD not to be alone. T-That it was relief, to have another person here. Someone who might know what's going on. What to do. To.. to stick with. I... I should wish it was just me, right? That they captured no one else? But... oh god. O-Oh God, I can't! I'm scared. Please. P-please...

I'm so scared.

The person checking me hummed low and soft. Their voice crackling like an old radio that's been left sitting on a shelf too long, unused. How.. how long has it been? Since they last had anyone to talk too? They sounded male, but.. but I didn't want to presume. Could just have a low voice. Throat injury. Might be Trans. I didn't care, couldn't care. I was pretty sure? We were all we had now.

They... no, He, found nothing alarming enough not to move me. Shifting into view as he gently slipped his arms under me. Enough to pick me up and carry me away from the door. He was... is... pretty handsome.

Okay, REALLY handsome.

Horrifically enough? I could see WHY they grabbed him. Athletic as hell, TV ready, really smart. If you were going to ignore ever bit of decency and morality to ever exsist? Might as well go for the best, I guess. Don't know why they grabbed ME, but I guess? They need a stand in or something? Or my predecessor is dead.

(God, I hope she's dead. The alternative...)

Pretty quickly became apparent, though, that one of the main problems (of so, SO many)? Was we don't actually speak the same language. Which... I mean... Well, shit. That's, putting it mildly, "less then ideal". Being unable to communicate with the only other person nominally on "My Side"? Kinda bad! But, I AM learning. And I am teaching him english! So there's that.

We have nothing but time, after all. It helps distract from the suffering just outside. The weeping and screams. The sounds that must be begging, in alien dialects. All the mercies they do not find.

(Is it terrible? That I am glad I can not understand what they are saying? Their cries for help? I can't help them. It hurts. Helpless to even save my self. God, I'm sorry. Please... I'm... I'm so sorry...)

Food gets shoved in. Lights flipped on. Lights shut off. The timer odd, but probably standard for somewhere. It's like being told to go to sleep halfway through the afternoon. Yanked awake before full nights are done. I struggle to adapt, even a little, following my fellow prisoner's lead. Or, well, trying too. There's a lot of charades at first.

Then, practicing our languages. Taking what naps and cuddling for warmth we can. Harsh lights be damned. It's cold, we're tired, but we have to keep our strength up. Right? Throughout it all, I try to ignore the weird smells they pump in. Still not used to getting random scents blasted at my head from above, from the air vents in the walls.

Day in, day out, rinse and repeate. The weird gasses smells like people have had sex, to be honest. I think? But don't quote me. They might be trying to get us to "mate", like animals, so they can sell our kids. Induce some nonexistent human heat cycle or something. I've kinda started to worry, not gonna lie, about what they'll do... you know, once they finally get frustrated. Figure out, we don't work like that.

Or... more relevantly, might not even be? Compatible?

Cause Azenari is DEFINITELY not a human. They fucked uuuup. Cause if he is? There is some probably serious divergent evolution going on. He did NOT get nabbed from Earth. HE got nabbed from his SHIP(as in, yeah, a fuckin Space Ship). Because HIS people are space faring! The man has pointy ears for fucks sake! Some seriously fangy canines. And while, yeah, seriously kinda cool? No idea if our species are related, or... you know...

So yeah, The Fur Covered Slaver Bastards are apparently Humanoid face blind, on TOP of being just generally terrible. Or dumb! Might be dumb, honestly. Wouldn't put it past them. Banality of evil and all that. But recently? There was a... tension. Something was coming. The Bastards seemed twitchy.

"Not long now, beloved. We're two stops from the extraction ambush." Azenari murmured, from where he was tucked loosely around me as I watch the latest patrol pass, one arm cradling me tight. Even as, with the other hand, he sleepily stroked my back. "You'll look lovely in proper robes. You deserve finery, my love."

I couldn't understand most of the sentence. Normally he simplified for me, since I was still learning. He seemed... pleased? Smug? The more tense and twitchy the Bastards got, the more darkly amused he seemed to become. As though he knew exactly why. As though he was laughing inside.

"My magnificent darling, you'll belong to me in everyway that matters. I'll take safer jobs. No more slave ring stings. I promise."

Oh. I think I got it. Azenari though of me as family! Yeah, that tracked. Trauma bonding and all. I did too. Couldn't help but smile, hugging him back, much to his clear delight. Yeah. We were in this together.

I'm glad I had someone I could trust. The universe was big and I would be pretty much alone without him. All but thrown at his feet and told I was his, Azenari had every chance to hurt me. But he didn't. He was a good man. Solid and stable when everything when frightening, warm and there when I needed to hide.

Really, it was only a matter of time before we would be chatting like old friends!

"You are NEVER going to escape me, beloved."

"I Love You."

[notti-stellate]

Insecure

Jacob Black x Fem!reader

a/n: Writing this definitely healed a part of me.

Warnings: Heavy angst/ fluff at the end, body image issues, insecurities, self deprecating thoughts, ect.

I stood there in front of my mirror, tears streaming down my face as I turned sideways. I spent too much time staring in the mirror again, all my insecurities slowly revealing themselves the more I tried to hide them. I felt like the ugliest girl in the world, practically burning holes into my stomach from my intense glare. The thoughts plaguing my mind were pure hatred and disgust.

I was glad Edward wasn’t here, his concern when he read my thoughts always made things worse. How could he love someone so disgusting? I thought to myself. I sighed knowing Jacob would practically kill me if he heard me. He hated when I talked badly about myself, always claiming they weren’t true. I could never believe him no matter how hard I tried.

I found myself sitting on my bedroom floor, sobbing, wishing I was someone else. I’m not sure how long I was there before Jacob came in, his original plans of surprising me with a date night going out the window the second he saw me, knowing what happened almost immediately . I was so absorbed in my own self-hatred that I didn’t realize he was there until I felt a warm arm wrap around my shoulders.

I looked up with tears still falling freely down my cheeks, meeting Jacob's own watery ones. Seeing the tears well up in his eyes made a new feeling flood my heart, guilt. 

“I’m sorry” I mumbled out, my voice coming out shaky and small.

“You have nothing to be sorry for” he whispered, pulling my shaking frame into his chest.

There were a few moments of comforting silence as I willed myself to stop crying. 

“Y/n,” his voice broke as he spoke, “I need you to listen to me. You are the prettiest girl I have ever seen. God, I wish you could see yourself from my eyes so you can see just how perfect you are. I’ve loved you for years and no matter what you look like I will always love you just how you are.” 

I felt the corners of my lips tug into a small smile as I listened intently to every word he said. I took his hand as he pulled both of us off the floor and sat me on my bed. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled us both into the comfort of my bed. He laid his body on me with his head resting on my chest and arms wrapped around me, acting as both a weighted and heated blanket.

“I love you, so much” I sighed

“ I love you too, sunshine” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

[cats-lolmao]

Yandere Toji HC's

Tw- Smut, Non-con

Yandere Ex-husband Toji who realeses rats in the home of your friends

Yandere Ex-husband Toji who pays homeless men honey buns to jump and rob your unsuspecting boyfriend as he leaves walmart

Yandere Ex-husband Toji that sneaks into your house and tries to cook you food as an apology just to burn down your kitchen to absolute dust

Yandere Ex-husband Toji who kills your boyfriend with popeyes biscuits

Yandere Ex-husband Toji who get a bunch of crackheads to jump your boyfriend in his coffin while he blasts aha by lil durk on a speaker

Yandere Ex-husband Toji who steals a parrot from the zoo and teaches it the song then puts it in a cage at your window to sing all night

Yandere Ex-husband Toji who gets tired of teasing and breaks into your home, making himself at home while he waits for you. "What the hell-"

Yandere Ex-husband Toji who hits you with a wombo combo knocking you out before you even get to cuss him out. He had tied your hands to his bed frame and chain your legs together. After you woke up he starts ranting about you tried to replace him and you'll never find anyone better than him as he presses an ice pack on your bruised and swollen face.

Yandere Ex-husband Toji who has you in doggy style pounding your cunt infront a mirror hours on end leaving the room feeling hot and smelling like musk "Did that bastard fuck you as good as I did?" He asks with a shit eating grin pulling your hair so your forced to look at your ruined self in the mirror. "Don't try to run doll" he pulls you back fucking into you even harder than before pushing your head into the hard floor as you to scream and sob in pain. "You should be thanking me for saving you from that shitback"

Ok thats it! Might do a part 2, kinda cringed writing the smut cs its my first time writing it. Any feedback would be nice and I hope u guys liked it (´ ∀ ` *)

[strawberryslurpy]

The Great-Novel-Length-Pynch-Fic List

By strawberryslurpy aka your resident pynch addict

I keep searching through fics on AO3 by word count and half the time it’s just Kinktober fics and that is not what I want I want something that’s comparable fiction to novels that are considered literary works of art!1!1!1! In other words, I’m picky. If you are too this may just be the list for you. Enjoy 😛😛

1. Concorde, Anonymous, AO3 (must be a member to read), 176k words

What if Adam was removed from the Parrish household at age 10? And what if he became the ward of a certain dreamer?

This fic had me in a CHOKEHOLD genuinely killed me and revived me. If you enjoy novels that are time jumpy and show rather than tell than this fic is for you. It’s confusing in the fun literary type of way and it is so well crafted and well articulated. I am a huge huge fan.

2. Magnetic by MonsieurBlueSky, AO3 (must be a member to read), 231k words

“an AU in which Ronan never befriended Gansey and after the death of Niall Lynch, Gansey isn't there to pull Ronan back from the edge. Kavinsky is there instead, ready to push him over.”

ABSOLUTELY AMAZING NO NOTES GENUINELY PHENOMENALLY EXECUTED I adore this fic and everything about it. The way the author is able to examine ronans relationships and how magic impacted them is just so so so lovely. I read this in one sitting and I sobbed for hours after finishing. Please read the tags, there is graphic depictions of suicide, self harm, substance abuse, domestic violence, etc. it’s all very canon typical but elaborated on.

3. Violent Delights (Violent Ends) by sunmoontruth, AO3, 200k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58209568/chapters/148221808

Oh. My. God. Holy. Fucking. Shit. HUNGER GAMES AU. Genuinely such captivating writing, the story pulls bits and pieces from the original Hunger Games, but there is so much that is original and fresh that this fic becomes less of an AU and more of a stand alone work. And with everything going on in the world now, in America where I live, this more graphic adult version of the hunger games truly hits where it hurts. Phenomenal characterization, such an amazing adaptation. I am floored beyond belief.

4. (The Time It Takes) To Believe in Fate by LydiaStJames, AO3, 100k words

“When he was 16, Adam walked into a forest in Henrietta, Virginia and exited in 1800s Ireland. The day he spent with the grumpy but attractive farmer lingered with Adam for years, but the forest didn't seem like it would appear again. That is, until Adam returned to Henrietta for his father's funeral and the forest calls him back once more.

To Ronan.”

GOD SO GOOD SO WELL WRITTEN. I have re read this one too many times to count. It is beautiful. It’s also such an intriguing concept and such a unique and original AU that it feels so disconnected from the original canon in a way that makes it much more enticing. Like the characterization is spot on and it’s so cool to see how these characters react to such an odd set of circumstances relative to their original canon.

5. Seek Ye The Living by charactershoes, AO3 (must be a member to read), 40k words

PYNCH FLEABAG AU PYNCH FLEABAG AU

Adam is a priest. Declan and Ashley are getting married. Ronan is having a faith crisis. What’s new.

6. Divinity by Cazio on AO3, 67k words

Magic can’t heal everything, especially when Ronan lacks the knowledge to dream a fix all. In other words, during his first semester at Harvard Adam gets sick. In true Adam fashion, he completely ignores it. But eventually it becomes too much for him to evade.

This fic is emotionally devastating. But, for some weird reason, it’s a comfort fic for me as someone who is chronically ill. It is a different type of illness and a much different type of circumstance but to see Ronans characterization when faced with something so devastating, and to see Adam get taken care of with such love. It means a lot when that is something I’m so deeply afraid I’ll never find. Please please please be aware of the tags and archive warnings.

For now these are my favorite long fics that are pynch centric but also just beautiful examples of literature that is so well written it feels like a disservice to label it fan fiction. I’ll update more as I read more!!

Lots of love,

Your local pynch dealer

[facefullofsadness]

I can't fall in love with you

university!au

crush!giselle x admirer!reader

prompt - minjeong is so in love with her girlfriend aeri, but so are you, and you can't be

content - angst, complicated relationship dynamics, alcohol usage, allusions to suicide

wc - 3378

a/n - cathartic: involving the release of strong emotions

the sky is covered with dark clouds, there must be rain today.

it's almost ironic how the weather works, considering the number of nights I've been crying recently. it's been weeks since I last talked to aeri. I've avoided her like the plague to run away from the reality of whatever was brewing inside me emotionally that I felt towards her. minjeong is an incredible girl and the only girl that should really matter in aeri's life, I can't possibly interrupt that, no matter how badly I want minjeong's girlfriend.

knowing aeri for months, we grew closer together, to each other. I got so attached to her; she listened to me, let me rant to her about anything I wanted to, important or irrelevant, took care of me in the moments where I felt out of control of my own life, guided me through the days where I didn't want to try anymore, held me and let me cry into her as I shattered into a million pieces. my heart would always swell thousands of times its original size when she would look at me with those soft and kind eyes, running her big hands through my hair and holding me close as I sobbed, her comforting words making me melt all over again.

I love her, I love her so much, but I know that having her is impossible. I'm not the girl in her life that she prioritizes above all, that she would run to even if I'm on the floor sobbing, even if she made me feel that way. I realized this and became terrified, so I ran away. I abandoned her even after promising to never do so, ghosting her in an effort to leave her to live her life as normal, without so much baggage weighing on her shoulders because of me. but I so badly wanted to go back to her, run into her embrace that would instantly cure me of my agony, but I fought myself instead.

I was a fool to think I could listen to my brain and not follow my heart. cause as I drink the last of my third bottle of alcohol of the night, drunk out of my mind, I couldn't stop myself from texting her. of course, I should've thrown out my phone long ago. incoherent words send themselves to aeri, letters I can barely comprehend. but only minutes later, my vision clears when she replies:

</3: come to the playground

the playground near my apartment, a place we knew well, a place we went to for amusement or solace. maybe, this time it was more for conclusion.

"I hate when you're like this."

aeri says as I stumble over myself to reach the pole holding the swing set up.

"you act like I'm self-destructive or something," I respond sarcastically, slurring over my words, the alcohol in my system taking over completely.

she sighs at what I said, "don't joke around. I don't want you killing yourself... don't you see how hard I'm trying for you? don't you know how much I care about you y/n? how fucking heartbreaking it is to see you like this?"

even intoxicated, I can hear the venom in her voice as she gets irritated with me.

I chuckle back, "oh whatever aeri, don't waste your energy on me."

"fuck you y/n, I can't keep doing this," aeri raises her voice, desperation and exhaustion evident in it.

silence hangs for a second as my world spins, vision blurry, the darkness of the night not helping at all. my stomach churns and my heart burns, aching. all the things I want to confess to her getting stuck in my throat, unable to release itself.

I hiccup once before uttering out, "then leave, don't waste your time on me."

the sound of aeri clenching her fists around the metal supports of the swing are loud enough to be heard, but then, it's silent again. the summer late night breeze flows through the air, a solo lamp post above us providing us with the faintest amount of light, distant chirps of cicadas to accompany the noise of passing cars in the street nearby. then, a choked sob from the girl next to me.

I turn towards her, almost throwing up at the sudden movement. aeri's crying, a single tear falls from her right eye, running down her cheek and falling to the sand below. there's no follow-up sobs, just silent teardrops running down her sweet devastated looking face. my whole chest tightens at the sight, making my head spin more as the alcohol clashes with my heartbreak.

"y/n, if you wanted to leave me, you should've just said so..." it's practically a whisper, barely audible to my dazed mind, but I'm fully zoned in on listening to anything aeri has to say in this moment.

her words sink in however, my stomach unsettled from a mixture of the verbal heartbreak and the physical coping mechanism dancing together in tragic collaboration.

"if you were just gonna leave me hanging for so long, you could've just told me," her voice is louder, "do you know how long I waited for you? do you know how badly I missed you? how badly I wanted to reach out to you? it's not like it would've mattered considering you'd just ignore me."

she continues, "I've tried so, fucking, hard, to ignore how badly it aches being without you," each word added with a pause to emphasize herself. "every single second that has passed since you left me, all I've been able to think about is you."

her eyes close shut as she now uses her hands as her emotions pour out her mouth, "I literally cannot stop thinking about you. my fucking head is just filled with you, you, you. I can't be normal, if my ears aren't filled with noise then the thoughts of you come flowing back in and I can't stop them from being loud."

she hangs her head, her arms falling limp beside her, voice quieting down into defeated sighs, "you promised y/n, you promised me you wouldn't leave. but I can't hate you, I've never been able to hate you or dislike you or feel an ounce of disdain or contempt towards you because I don't, I never will be able to. I only but love you. and I can't stop loving you and I don't know how to stop, I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop, even if I tried it wouldn't work because I HAVE tried. and even then, I still fucking love you."

deafening silence hangs once again in the air, the tension palpable. I feel my chest squeeze, the overwhelming rush of emotions colliding with my fragile heart, feeling the liquid courage in my system turn to regret.

"always so eloquent with words, aren't you aeri?" my voice manages to squeak out, surprising myself, "but never enough to read the room."

she turns to look at me, eyes filled with tears. I hesitate from speaking, the words I want to say stuck at the back of my throat, stopping them from spilling out. if I weren't drunk enough to care, I'd listen to my thoughts, but my body reacts on its own, knowing that if I don't speak now, I'll hold this suppressed pain till the end.

"why do you think I've avoided you? why do you think I needed the space and distance? because I didn't want to see you? because I didn't wanna talk to you anymore? because you didn't make me happy anymore? didn't make me feel like the only girl to ever exist in this wicked fucking world, the only person to truly see and love me, the only person to make me feel like I mattered?"

I can't hold myself back as my emotions overflow from my tongue, unable to halt its onslaught, no longer in control of my own self.

I become louder, choked sentences turning into audible begs for her to listen, "do you really think my words meant nothing? that I didn't mean it when I said all those things to you? that you were the first person, the only person I would go to when I felt like shit? did you even listen to me?!"

"of course I fucking listened to you y/n! why are you acting like I'm stupid?!" aeri argues with me.

"because you're blind aeri!" I argue back, "can't you see?! can't you fucking see what's going on?!"

"I don't understand!"

"I'm in love with you aeri! I'm in love with all of you, every single part of you! I love your smile, your voice, your laugh, your body, your hands holding mine, your warm comforting hugs, your hums when I lay on your chest, your pats on my back when everything is too overwhelming, the affirmation you give when I feel like dying, the interest you show when I rant about something stupid, the shine in your eyes when you talk about your interests, the gentleness you give me when I'm crying, the love you make me feel when you simply exist in my presence and even if we're not together you still make me feel like I matter! I fucking love you!!!"

drops of rain softly fall to the ground around us, a light drizzle slowly emerging from the sky, the weight of my outburst heavy in the air.

my voice croaks, almost whispering, "I've fallen so deeply and harshly and intensely in love with you, every part of my body aches because while I love you, I cannot have you. I know you love me too but you can't love me the way I so desperately want you to, the way I so desperately love you."

the moon glistens in her eyes, shiny with tears and cheeks trailing with raindrops. so much pain painted on her face, and yet she's still so beautiful, my heart longs even harder for aeri.

"being around you makes me feel like the angel you say I am, makes me feel like I'm floating above the clouds and you're the reason why I'm able to do that, makes me feel like nothing else matters as long as I have you. but it also reminds me of how it's all not real, how I can't just have you, that I'm not your only one. it's minjeong and it should be, but my god do I wish it were me..." my voice weakens with the last part of the sentence, the tears streaming down my trembling cheeks.

"so aeri, I'm inexplicably sorry for breaking your heart, but mine is shattered too. my reality, this reality, it's unbearable, and I so badly yearn for you. I've been agonizingly in pain wanting you, needing you ever since I've left with no words, but resisting it because I can't ruin the good thing you and minjeong have. no matter how insanely desperate I am for you, I know it's not right for me to fight myself for you."

we both cry silently, the slight rustle of leaves from the trees around us in harmony with the serene but heartbreaking drizzle of rain muffled by the sand of the dark abandoned playground. it pained me greatly watching the love of my life look so utterly torn apart in front of me, me being the reason aeri was so broken. all I want to do is reach out to her, cup her precious face into my hands, wipe the salty tears from her cheeks, and kiss her plump trembling lips, reassure her that everything will be okay. but again, I can't, I couldn't, my shoes glued to the floor and hands clutching the material of my jacket, like I could hold in the pain aching in my chest.

"y/n..." her voice shaky, tone unrecognizable compared to the comforting and confident girl I knew, "I love you."

even though her voice was weak, what she said made my knees wanna give out, buckling at her words. she had told me she loved me before but this time she sounded different, it made my churning stomach fill with butterflies. my chest pounded harder as aeri started to walk closer to me, tiny but impactful steps as she was almost up against me. her warm hands carefully cupping my cheeks, thumbs caressing my skin and wiping my tears away as I melt completely into her touch. as my eyes close, I feel her forehead rest against mine, aeri's soft lips very slightly grazing mine, my hands falling to slip themselves into her hoodie, holding her close by her waist, afraid to let go.

I clutch her tightly, a contrast to the soft grasp aeri's hands hold my face in, so warm on my cheeks. even for this small moment in time that the two of us settle in, I feel all my anxiety and agony wash away with the rain, comforted and at peace with the world when I'm with her, the girl I'm so tragically in love with holding me like it's the only thing either of us want, need. god I wish this moment would last forever.

what I would give to kiss her right now. how badly I want to just close the miniscule amount of distance between us and feel her soft lips mold against my strawberry soju flavored ones. how desperately I want to pull her into me and never let go, making out with her breathlessly. and how painfully I hold myself back, restricting myself from acting upon any urge I harbor, not letting myself give my everything to the woman I love.

"aeri... I love you," my voice breaks in a sob, "and I'm sorry..."

I take a good look at my one and only girl for the last time, observing her perfection, how ethereal aeri uchinaga is to me. then I rip myself away from her warmth, turning and never looking back, tears welling up in my eyes and blurring my vision of the already pitch black night.

I run. I run and run. I keep running. I cry, furiously. I can't see anything. all I can hear is the sound of my own sobs as I throw myself against the wall of a building and shrink to the floor, wailing into my arms.

the days that followed were a blur. I don't remember how the night ended, how I got home, what happened after, nothing. I didn't touch my phone, didn't contact or respond to anyone, just rotted the days away in my bed, eating or using the bathroom when my stomach hurt too much. not even a knock at the door would force me to get up from my asylum, not a phone call, not an urgent emergency, not anything that could possibly be of importance. simply because nothing mattered. I used to believe it would all be okay if nothing did matter, but my reason to keep believing is gone now, she's all gone.

looking out the window all day, the clouds were dark and heavy, steady drizzling from the sky once again. I took a trip to the kitchen, interrupted by a white envelope on the floor near the door. it compelled me forward, shakily opening it and feeling all of my emotions run back to me as soon as I recognized the handwriting.

dear y/n,

I don't know anymore. I've thought a lot about everything and I just, I've got nothing. nothing to tell you that'll make everything okay, that'll solve any problems or issues, that'll make anyone feel better. I'm sorry y/n, for letting all of this happen. I've come to the realization that it's out of my hands, emotions and love, they act on their own, but while I'm sure I can't completely blame myself for how you feel about me, I could've let you go softly instead of letting you love me, even if I didn't know. I got close to you, closer than I've ever gotten I think to anyone, not minjeong, not my friends, not my family, you. I should've known that our clinginess to each other would lead to such a demise.

I write all of this to say, ultimately, I love you. I still love you, I don't think I can bring myself to stop loving you, again, even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to. I'll be leaving soon, the fall semester is gonna start and I'll be gone and out of your hair in more ways than one before you know it. not that it matters but me and minjeong broke up. it was never gonna work out between us considering the differences in what we wanted and how impossible it was for us to be with one another. I could sense the end for us, I could feel her falling out of love with me. unfortunately I've lost one too many people I've loved deeply and I don't think I can reasonably recover ever from this.

y/n, if you're ever ready to love me again, in any way, shape, or form, I'll be there. I want you to know I'll never stop loving you, again, I fucking can't. I don't know why I keep holding onto you when I know it's over, I know we're over, I know you don't want to, or wish you could stop giving a fuck about me. so goodbye y/n. thank you for making me just the happiest girl I could've been for as long as you existed in this life of mine. you made me feel beautiful, gave me butterflies, made me feel like if everything in life fell apart and that if it was just me and you that it would be perfectly fine, like nothing or no one mattered as long as it was just us, you made me feel so fucking incredible, inside and out. I've never felt such euphoria from anyone before, and haven't felt so gorgeous until you came around, like the goddess you treated me as.

admittedly, I think you were slowly but very effectively taking my heart. I never let myself dwell on those thoughts for too long but deep down I knew that it was true. everything you said that night when I held your precious face in my hands, I couldn't ignore it, I was falling for you too. I wanted to kiss you so bad, to close my eyes as our lips met and ignore the world falling apart around us, but you pulled away and I stood there with my hands in the air covered in rain, feeling my heart break all over again. I love minjeong and I'll continue to love her till I die, but I don't think I was in love with her anymore, but in love now with you. letting you steal my heart while minjeong's heart was in my hands is regrettable, I don't think I'll be able to forgive myself even if she never knows. though, I don't regret having fallen for you, I mean I wouldn't have if there was no reason to, right? but ultimately, it's my fault for letting two incredible people fall in love with me, someone who couldn't keep their hearts from breaking in the end.

I can't promise you this little life of mine will last long, I'm, broken, shattered, and quite frankly, I don't wanna try loving anymore, I think this might've been my last straw. I've never been good with love, you know that, and yet you loved me, maybe you still do. I don't know if I can handle anyone else falling in love with me and letting myself fumble with their precious emotions any longer, so taking out the middle man feels like the conclusion I've reached. we both ended up breaking our promises of staying for each other, didn't we? how ironic, isn't it y/n? I'm sorry for leaving you, but I can't find it in my own fragile heart to stay. so, thank you for being my friend, my love, mine.

I'll protect you from the other side,

your aeri

the rain outside started to pour.