#to care so much for it but to be pushed away so strongly you're forced back into to the void.

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

I gotta wrap my head around

What my heart is telling me

I've been trying to drown it out

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

We bleed tonight IV

Previous chapter

a/n well I return from the dead to give you the last and final chapter of this unexpected series. What a journey it has been huh...

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Adapting to Day Court was quite a challenge. The months passed, but you felt nothing but an imposter. You knew you were safe, but no matter what you did, you just felt off. Afraid that the peace and quiet would be ripped away from you any minute. Still shivering at the sound of footsteps and at the shadows draping over corners of the room.

Helion, as much as he tried, didn't feel like a father to you. You appreciated that he never pushed it. Nor did he expect either of you to call him father. He was attentive and always showed up for all the meals. There was no forced bonding. If the conversation didn't flow, Helion never pushed it. Yet you had caught his hopeful eyes more than once. Watched him lean in and stagger back out of a hug. He yearned to have his kids back, but time had worked against him.

Helion talked endlessly about your mother. Madelain was a part of the conversation almost always, and it didn't surprise you, considering that he, Eris, and Lucien had been working on getting her out of Autumn. And back to where she always belonged: in her mate's arms. It was fascinating hearing Helion talk of her as if she were everything. As if all those years apart had done nothing but ignite more love between them. And you truly couldn't help but wonder if that's what a true bond felt like. Something that can't be ripped apart no matter what. No matter the distance. No matter the anger. Wrong choices. Pain caused. Always there. Always bounding two souls.

Your body hit a firm muscle wall, causing you to quickly draw your head up. "You're distracted, my lady", the familiar voice said, holding onto your hands to steady you. "My apologies. Head's all over…", You moved your hands quickly over your face, gathering your thoughts. Bringing yourself back to reality. The male smiled; his long black hair frown into a messy bun, and a smile painted his lips. "Could I offer you a walk through the gardens? Fresh air might help", he said gently, his hand suddenly moving to twist your curly hair around his fingers. Your face flushed crimson as you only found yourself nodding.

Arlo, one of the scholars who lived under Helion's protection made it all that much more bearable. You had been slumped in the library for over a week by then. Trying to distract yourself from all the chaos. The yarning in your soul. You would flip open a book. But the page wouldn't turn for hours. Unable to concentrate on anything but the voices in your head. "Pick a book, and I'll tell you what's troubling you", he had said then. Mother, did your heart skip a beat when you saw him for the first time? He was truly a handsome man. Strongly built. And with that mass of muscle, you would never even suspect him of being so soft. But even his moves were laced with a thread of gentleness. That softness that simply embraced you.

Arlo gave you a glimpse of what you wanted the most. Satisfied that longing for being no one again. Not a Vanserra anything but that. A chance for freedom once more. Nothing that promised the same highs or brought you the same lows. No, because he wasn't the man that you were chasing. Wasn't it the soul that your whole existence cried out for at night. Even with him moving between his legs and your back pressed against one of the statues in your father's gardens, you couldn't help but picture Azriel there, and you hated it. Hated that you couldn't escape the shadow singer.

Hated that the highs wore off faster than you would have liked. Because Arlo was so sweet, Mother knew how kind and caring he was, but the light he bore blinded you. It was too perfect. Too smooth. It made your damaged parts ache because you were nothing but an imperfection next to him. And that's what weighed on you. The darkness. The darkness that lingered, the darkness that was a part of you. A part that you couldn't rip out. It was there, and it was suffering between these perfect white walls and crystal chandeliers. Because this wasn't you. It had nothing that made you feel like yourself. It was a true state of static nothingness, and for that, you couldn't settle because it was leaving you lonely.

Night after night, Azriel woke up drenched in sweat. Night after night, he saw you. He felt you. And it drove him crazy. He could swear he saw glimpses of your days. He saw you. He saw that you weren't alone. He felt the sadness that twisted you. He felt the pleasure that your body scoured into. Brought by another male. Making Azriel roar at the pain and suffering it brought him. What a strange thing the band was! As if it too was blaming Azriel. Torturing him on its behalf. He saw you smiling, but he knew that your smile no longer belonged to him. No, it was brought by the male, whom you looked at as if the whole world turned around him. You looked at Azriel like that once, and now… Now, he wished he could just rip his heart out.

"Uncle Az, Uncle Az, you came", Nyx messily flew into his uncle's arms, wrapping himself around his neck. Azriel caught the boy quickly, pressing him closer to his chest. Managing to draw out a tight smile. The boy looked over his uncle's shoulder and asked, "Where's Aunty, Y/N?", the pang in Azriel's heart twisted. He hoped you would show up. You loved Nyx and the boy, well, he was fascinated by you. "She…", Azriel trills off. He never even thought about this. He never thought about how he was going to tell the people who didn't know about what happened. How he would cover up the fact that you were no longer together. That you weren't together because of him. Because Azriel lost control over his emotions and hurt you. He was one of those men. Not any better than Beron himself.

"Is she playing hide and seek?", Nyx twisted in Azriel's arms, "I need to go protect the cake". The boy quickly padded away, and Azriel caught Feyre's eyes from across the room. She held the shadow singer's gaze until a shien of sadness painted over them, and she shook her head. You weren't coming. The empty chair looked almost jarring. So out of place. So empty.

"Could I?", Azriel goes back to one of the first diners you all had. He had caught onto your sleepy frame. You tried to stay awake so hard, keeping eye contact with Cassian, who was so deep into the story that he was telling. Until Azriel spoke, and you instantly turned to him, "Could you what?", you asked, "Hold you.. I mean…", Azriel quickly cleared his throat, "Would you like to lean against me? This doesn't look too comfortable". And it wasn't. Your hand was going numb, and your wrist ached. You smiled up at him shyly. Back then, a part of him was sure that you would reject him. But you didn't. You leaned right into him, arms crossed over his neck, as you pulled yourself closer to Azriel's chest. Now his arms were empty. Cold and truly discussed him.

"Are you busy?", you cracked the doors to Lucien's office slightly. The hours were late, and the chance of him being asleep was high; however, the dim lights from beneath the door left you hopeful. "No, come in", his smooth voice rang out. Lucien quickly put his pen down. All of his attention was now set on you. You loved that about him so much. Well, learned to love. That when you needed him, he was there fully. It wasn't just a pinch of attention. He was there. Always ready. Always willing.

"You should be sleeping, missy", Lucien stated, the corner of his lips tilting upward as you frowned. "Oh, don't you start parenting me around", you padded towards his chair, opting for the little ottoman that stood close by. "What's keeping you up?", the velvet sound of Lucien's voice pierced the silence once more. Your sad eyes hurt him too deeply. Hesitation filled your senses. You didn't talk much about the past. It felt as if it had all been blurred out and painted over. And you hoped you had managed to paint over your emotions, but Lucien leaned in to read you. And within a couple of months, you were an open book to him.

"Do you miss Velaris?", your voice was almost a whisper. Lucien knew that tonight would be hard. Hence, he too opted not to go to Nyx's birthday. Leaving you here seemed wrong. And he knew that no one else around the palace would understand the sorrows within you. "Not necessarily…", the fireling trailed off; however, you quickly specified, "You miss Elain?". Lucien froze for a second before a deep sigh left his lips. "I feel too sober for this kind of conversation", you chuckled. Yet it wasn't a happy chuckle; it carried worries and sadness. The almost bitter one left a tingling loneliness. "I miss her, yes. But not seeing her makes it easier in a way," Lucien replied. His eyes were now as distant as yours as he watched ahead of himself. Without a doubt he pictured Elain.

The silence surrounded you two. Draping the mystery of the unknown all over the office, you two let the pain you hid come back to the surface. However, the next words made you stagger, "Do you think of him?" It was almost funny how no one spoke Azriel's name around the place. It was always him—the man, that guy. Helion left him out of the court meetings that were held there. A part of you was thankful for that. Until you started missing his eyes. Hoping to see them. Hoping for at least a glimpse. Because your mind was so torn.

That was the man who showed you love first. Who saw you first. Who empowered you first. He gave you a voice when no one else listened. He made you his everything. And freefalling with him was the best thing that had happened to you. But then he was the one who ripped through your happiness. Stomped on it and shredded it to pieces. You tried to justify it. You did. And it was true, that Beron was to blame. He was the one who planted the seed of doubt, but…

"There are a lot of what-ifs in my head", you admitted, pulling your legs closer to your chest. Letting your dress pool all around you, "I try to drown them out but…", "The nagging voice doesn't stop?", you only nodded your head. His shoulder sank slightly because he understood. Lucien understood.

"It was like that with Jesminda", your eyes instantly grew wide, "You don't have to", you reassured him. Knowing full well the tragedy of the story. The loss. The pain. That twisted it. "It happened long ago; it's okay", Lucien smiled sadly, running his fingers through his hair. Allowing himself a moment of silence. "We had this one big fight, and we cut it all off. I said many things that I regretted, and so did she", you watched how his expression turned sadder with every word that he spoke. "I ended up not seeing her for months; pride was too big. Until I felt like I was going insane because all I could think of was her", and you did know because that was how you felt. Because it felt as if there was a growing ocean between you. One that spread and got deeper with every passing moment. And a part of you wanted it to grow, but then there was that small version of you that cupped the water with your raw hands, trying to make the void smaller.

"But that's how you know it's love", Your eyes shot up to look at Lucien, who had been watching you this whole time. You bit the inside of your cheek as the memory surfaced.

"Why are you being so sweet?", your fingers pushed through Azriel's messy hair, "Because I love you." Azriel watched you for a heartbeat. Your hopeful eyes had been glazed with a shine that glimmered in the morning sun. As if his words had just broken a curse. As if you had never imagined anyone saying those words to you. "I love you. All of you. Had for a while now", Azriel admitted right as your arms and legs wrapped around his strong torso, bringing him closer to you.

Your eyes welled up with tears, and you quickly turned your face to the side. Hating the fact that you were crying once again, "It sucks though…", you shook your head, brushing your fingers under your eyes quickly, "Because I'm starting to think that's not enough".

The wind rippled through your hair, and the skirt of your dress fluttered behind you. The sky was pitch black. The darkness soothed the pain, and the cool nibbles of wind made you feel more alive than ever before. The sound of the fast stream beneath you chimed more like a lullaby. With hands wrapped around you, let yourself feel the sorely missed sense of belonging. There was no light; only nightfall surrounds you.

Yet your eyes seem to have opened up on their own. And there it was. The image you feared the most. One you had never pictured before, and yet it resembled the worst fear in your life. Your heart skips a beat. Right there in front of you, stood the figure you could've identified no matter where you were. Either in the brightly lit room or the darkest corners of the Earth. You wouldn't need to see it to know. All you would have to do was feel.

"No", you said under your breath. The male stood at the edge of the cliff, shoulder-slumped, his head hanging low. He was done. He was simply done. There was no sense of life about him. A shell of a soul that has given up on everything. "Don't you dare", you said a bit louder, trying to cross the distance between the two of you. The hills now seemed impossible to cross. All the sharp edges seemed to intensify. Your hands slipped alongside your feet no matter what you did; no matter how hard you tried to crawl toward him, you simply couldn't.

"Azriel, don't you dare jump", you shouted at the top of your lungs, screeching as you watched him step closer and closer. Merciless waves crashed beneath him. He was muttering something under his breath, something so distant, and it felt impossible that you could hear him, but he was calling your name and muttering as a prayer, as a cry for help. You did the same, calling and calling to him, hoping to catch his attention. His eyes filled up with tears, as helplessness tore through you, and then he jumped. That was it; he was falling, and you couldn't do anything. The most painful scream escaped your lips as you washed his body and submerged it in the cold water.

"Azriel, Azriel", you roared, falling to your knees. "Azriel", your body jolted upward. Your hands clenched the sheets beneath your body, body soaked in sweat. Your breaths were shallow. They didn't seem to want it to linger in your lungs. And then you were up. Pulling the first thing over your body. You could feel your heart pumping in your throat. Those same angry tears were now streaming down your cheeks. You stilled for a moment. Closing your eyes and clenching your fist, you felt the now familiar sense of darkness surround you. You didn't know where to go. But you trusted your heart to get you where you needed to be.

"Azriel", you muttered your mantra as the spinning stopped. The familiar scent filled your senses, subsiding your anxiety, yet you knew that you were not going to rest until you saw him. "Y/N?", it was more of a question than anything else as he stepped out of the shadows as if you were just yet another of his hallucinations. Afraid to step any closer because he might just chase you away.

Here he stood. The male you haven't seen in months. He wasn't drowning. He wasn't at the bottom of Sidra. He hadn't jumped. You let out a shaky breath. "You…", you muttered, stepping closer to Azriel, eyes still lingering all around his frame. "You jumped…" Azriel frowned; equally as much concern now laced his features. "Jumped?" You nodded your head, still fighting for air. "I saw… you…", Azriel's hands pulled you closer to him. And his warmth poured into you. The shouting in your head died down. It's all settled. "It's just a bad dream, a nightmare", he said softly, pressing his lips to the crown of your head.

You pulled away ever so slightly so you could see him. Look at him. Watch him say, "Your eyes…", you almost gasped when you noticed the dark circles beneath them and the slightly red tinge all around. "Sleep is not on my side as of lately", he chuckled slightly, but you could feel the pain there. That same pain that you've been sharing for months now. Had he been aware all this time? Had he looked after himself at all? "Don't cry, please, love", Azriel gently wiped away the tears that you didn't even know were streaming down your cheeks once more, "I caused you enough pain". Yet you shook your head at his words, reaching up to cup his face, the need to pull him closer awakening inside you. A need to feel him almost like your skin.

"Azriel, I've been thinking…", but you never got to finish as Azriel stepped back, pulling you away from his embrace. Yet still clasping your hands, he whispered, "Don't…", and you could hear the shaking in his voice, "Don't forgive me". A sob slips past your lips as you watch him. Watched as Azriel fought the sting in his eyes. How he tried to steady himself but failed. "Truth be told, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I don't think I was alive until you came into my life", he continued, now allowing his thoughts to flow. Followed by the touch that stung him. Because he knew it was one of the last. That he couldn't bask in it. That he couldn't let himself enjoy the warmth of your skin. Because you would fade away eventually.

"And mother, did I fear every day that you would disappear. That I would have to find out what living without you feels like", a cry slipped past his lips. "Az…", you muttered, biting your wobbly lip, but he shook his head. "I just want you to know a few things", the shadow singer cupped your cheek, and you leaned into it. Lean into the touch that your body has been craving this whole time. "I'm sorry; I'm so sorry for what I did, and believe me. Even on my dying bed, I'll be cursing myself for it", he muttered, pressing his forehead to yours as your nails dug into his shoulders, "And I love you. I love you so much". You didn't trust your words, so you never gave him an answer. And he never got to know that a small part of you forgave him. That in the future, your paths may cross, and maybe just maybe love will be the only emotion there. That it was now. That your heart beats for him and him only.

And no, this love wasn't perfect. But neither were you two. Perfect wasn't a thing that could exist in this world. Perfection belonged in museums and exhibitions but not in day-to-day life. And maybe letting yourself bleed for the night in each other's arms was better than not bleeding at all. And maybe ripping that golden thread from each other's souls was the best thing you could've done for one another that night.

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All acotar writing taglist: @brekkershadowsinger @cityofidek @baebeepeach @lucyysthings @hideing @urfavbrunettebish @historygeekqueen @marina468 @courtofjurdan @bubybubsters

[fearyandear]

Taking Over (Pet! Gyutaro x Reader)

(Continuing @phantasmiafxndom 's Pet Au with Gyutaro)

OK so, Gyutaro lovers, please read the fic I am linking in case you haven't yet, because what I'm writing is just an add-on to it.

And then if you want you can also read this NSFW one as well 👉 👈

Now for my version of building off of that:

You picked him up from the streets after life made it clear how unwanted he is. Of course he thinks hes disgusting and not worth your kindness let alone even your fucking gaze. His anxiety flares up so badly around you that he hurts himself and scratches at his skin so hard it makes you squirm. When you touch him to get him to stop and when you tell him you hate seeing him bleed, he cries. He can't believe it and goes to hide in a corner and sulk.

Yet with time, patience and more and more coddling- (oh god you're ACTUALLY SPOILING him so much???) he slowly learns to let go of the habit. He is so guilty. He knows- he knows he knows he knows hes a shitty person for allowing you, for taking everything you're giving, for not leaving even though you gave him permission to whenever he felt like it.

You shouldn't be stuck with him, no one deserves to be stuck with him, but he cant help it, he really really can't, when it's YOUR fault that he's growing greedy. That he's becoming more dependent on you. YOUR FAULT.

At least, hat's what he keeps telling himself as he lets his guard down. When he hugs you after waiting for you by the door all day, when he buries his face in your chest and sighs, staying like that as you work, when you go to bed and he lays beside you, unable to sleep until you do because he's so mesmerized.

He loves you he loves you he loves you so much. He can't get enough of the feeling; it's a strong and dangerous addiction now that makes it HURT so much WORSE when after all that growth and bliss, letting himself get comfortable, you come back one day, smelling strongly like another demon.

His deep-rooted paranoia over being let go, over you realizing one day how terrible he really is, getting sick of him and dumping him back out resurfaces in the blink of an eye. He's back to crying and fretting and tearing his skin, grabbing your arms, asking you what happened and why, ready to beg you not to let him go, that he'll do ANYTHING. And even if you reassure him now, and later, and forever, he can't let your words actually get through anymore. It's not enough. It stays with him for the rest of the month.

He's extra clingy. Pushing the boundaries on what he can and can't do. Whining when you raise your voice or try to tell him he can't do something. Guilt tripping you. He doesn't care that he's risking his stay at your house by being this forceful. You promised to be HIS owner. His. HishishisHIS- and that means having to deal with some of these 'annoyances.'

Like every morning now, he won't let you go to work until rubs his scent all over you, repeating the process when you come back home. He will start a 'game' where he will hide your things and not give them back until he's had enough fun with you pleading him. But, worst of all, if you try to sit or lay and relax anywhere, like the couch, floor or bed, he will hold you hostage by keeping you pinned under him demanding that you tell him that he's yours. Telling you that no other demon will be abke to take you away. Thinking of these as (subtle threats) reminders for you not to go looking for one to. After the third time this happens, you get annoyed that he distrusts you this much.

"Yeah, you're mine. And I'm yours. Of course, I'm not getting any other demon. You're my only precious pet and I'm your one and only owner."

You said it. You're HIS.

Just like he always hoped you would. You confirmed it, you confirmed it so you're confirming all his other delusions too.

That you love each other and that means he can push you as much as he wants, right? Because you said so- because you don't mind, because you haven't gotten mad at him! You're so nice, you won't mind hin showing you the depths of his depraved fantasies, right? That he wants more than what you're offering... You won't run away, no, you've been so GOOD to him. You can stand his selfishness.... fuck.

He's planning on it.

Lord fucking help you when his heat kicks back in after that. No more of the mewling demon that was ashamed of it, you wake up to him already on top of you, rutting against you and kissing your neck, telling you he's sorry but- 'It's so painful... he couldn't wait... please, before you go to work?' But one handjob isn't enough anymore, uugh he came too fast- and he's still SO HARD. Come oon~ he wants you again, please please, before you go- let him.... just... touch you in return? Again and again, you have tondrag yourself to the door, struggling to finally get out because he's behind you, whining and thrusting behind you, against your thighs, groaning in your ear and groping at you. You're going to be late, you know you are but you're completely glued to where you are and the worst of it is how he cums on your leg and has the nerve to slump on your back and whine and tell you how much he loves you and how much hes going to miss you while youre gone. His hands start moving more down, to a part of you that hadn't received attention yet and you finally unfreeze and open the door to get out in a rush.

You finally get on your car, horny, with splotches on your work clothes now and the lingering feeling of his hands on you. You're stuck thinking about what he's probably doing while you're at your work, burning as you realize the mess that you'll deal with when you get back home. This heat is going to be tougher. Just how far are you willing to put out this time? Will it even matter?

He's always going to want more.

[bellysoupset]

Hmm hi, I'm happy that you're looking for tiny requests for mini fics🤭 so umm, what about Vince waking up by Wendy as he is having a nightmare, (he just couldn't wake up from it himself for minutes but his murmurs and toss&turns were enough to wake Wendy which we know how deeply she sleeps (i hope I'm remembering this detail right lol) ) and then Vince trying to calm down in Wendy's arms?? I adore this kinda scenes in fics🤍 -thank you alreadyy&take care

Oh that's so so cute!!

----------

Wendy was a heavy sleeper, which didn't mean she was a good sleeper. Good sleepers were what parents called their babies who slept through the night and didn't fuss, but in her case she had always had a hard time falling asleep when it was actually time to go to bed. Falling asleep was hard, waking up was even worse.

However, whenever she slept over at Vin's place in Doveport, for some reason, she fell asleep like a baby in less than a minute. Maybe it was the four hour drive or the heavy italian food or even the fact her boyfriend was a furnace and more comfortable than any body pillow in the planet, but she was always out like a light the minute they cuddled up in bed.

This time it was no different, so it was much to her confusion when she woke up and the room was still dark. She never ever woke up before dawn, unless someone was shaking her or her alarm was screaming bloody murder. Wendy frowned, ready to fall back asleep and she squirmed on the bed, dizzy enough from sleep that she wasn't sure which way was Vince, to her left or right...

As soon as her senses came back, she understood why she was awake. Vince was talking next to her. Wendy rubbed at her eyes, grabbing on his headboard to pull herself sitting up and squinted. The only lights was the yellow streetlamps, that were seeping through his roman shades, bathing the room in a dark purple tone. Nevertheless, even in the half lit room, she could see the deep crease between Vin's brows and the way fact his eyes were squeezed shut.

"Vin?" Wendy yawned, touching his arm, only to find out he was shaking. Whatever he was mumbling she couldn't make sense of, but she heard his sisters' name and her own in the mumble jumble, "honey, wake up. Vince."

Vince usually woke up if a hummingbird happened to flutter past his window, so it was more than a little unsettling when even with her speaking at a normal tone and shaking him lightly he didn't open his eyes.

"Vince," Wendy said more strongly, touching his shoulder now and leaning over him slightly, "Vince, wake up," she shook him harder, using force now and the mumbling stopped for a second, but instead he let out a tiny whimper from the back of his throat that had her heart squeezing. Wendy shook him much harsher, "Vince wake up!"

His eyes opened at her tone, darting around the room in a panicked manner, his chest was heaving and when she moved her hand from his shoulder to his pec, Wendy could just feel his crazy heartbeat drumming away, "honey... Hey, hey, you're okay. It's me..." she whispered in the dark, when Vince flinched under her touch.

He gasped for air, before saying in a breathless rasp "Wen...?"

"Yeah," she leaned in, pushing his sweaty curls away from his forehead in a soothing manner, "it's me, you're okay..."

He nodded, but instead of sitting up, Vince rolled on the bed and buried his face against her stomach, letting out a shuddery breath. His back trembled and Wendy frowned, continuing to pet his hair, "honey? Do you wanna talk about the dream?" nightmare, her mind corrected it.

She wasn't surprised when Vin only shook his head, causing her to sigh. Wendy leaned back against the headboard, moving her free hand to his back and rubbing in circles, "it's okay... You're okay, it was just a dream..." she repeated these words at least five times, until Vince stopped trembling like a puppy left outside in the rain.

The room was a much lighter shade of pink when he finally pulled back from his hiding place against her lap and wiped at the little tears clinging to his lashes. She could see him very clearly, as a blush climbed up his prickly cheeks and burned at his ears, embarrassment causing him to look away as he grumbled, "sorry. Sorry for waking you up and... All this."

"Don't apologize," Wendy yawned, shaking her head, "it must've been a horrible dream for you to wake me up... I'm glad I was here."

He probably could see right through her concern and straight into her curiosity, because Vince let out a watery chuckle, then slid down on the bed, falling against the pillows, "yeah... Me too."

"Oh, c'mooooon," Wendy whined, sliding down under the blankets again and shaking his arm in a childish teasing manner, "tell me! I can't help if I don't know-"

Vince rolled his eyes, fondly, before rolling on the bed so he could grab her in a hug and back around, essentially pulling her over him like a stuffed toy. Wendy let out a squeal at being trapped, her cheek squished to his chest and she felt more than heard the small laugh rumbling in his chest.

"Curiosity killed the cat, honey," Vince yawned, then planted a kiss on the top of her head. She felt them both sink deeper in the bed as he let out a heavy, relieved sigh, "this is helping."

"Can't believe you're not gonna tell me," Wendy mumbled, her voice muffled by his shirt, but she was smiling. She planted a kiss on his chest, squeezing him back, "I love you."

"I love you too, honey," Vince kissed her head again, hugging her even tighter, "you're the best teddy bear."

"Oh hush."

[pistachiotalenti]

Contrary to popular belief, it's warm in Antarctica. At least that's what Dream would posit.

Of course, any sane person might call him out on his bluff and attribute the warmth to this more-than-decent shelter Jimmy's got them holed up in.

Or perhaps the hot cocoa he had after dinner has worked wonders to keep him toasty.

Or maybe whatever illness he's plagued with this time has him running hot.

Or it's–

"Uuuurrnnnghhh. Dreeeeaaam."

Dream looks away from his phone to glance at the person laying beside him in bed, or rather, this rickety cot that isn't nearly big enough for him and his long limbs, let alone two people. Not that he's complaining. "Georgieeee," he calls back to the figure beside him. "You bored?"

"No." George keeps his eyes trained on the tinny ceiling above their heads, thinking for a second, before pushing his bottom lip into a pout. "Kind of." Then he rolls on his side and sighs dramatically. "You're being really inconsiderate right now, Dream."

"Wait, why?" Dream laughs a bit, and it's only because he finds George's theatrics endearing (and admittedly, cute). He still genuinely cares about George's feelings, however, so his voice naturally softens when he asks, "What'd I do?"

George throws him a hard look, one that reads a lot meaner than the transgression he's about to point out: "I'm literally laying beside you in bed, and you're not even kissing me."

Heat blooms across Dream's entire face. "I– whuh– y-you're–" At his flustered stuttering, George's forced grimace easily slips into a satisfied grin. The fog of Dream's mind eventually clears and he spits, "I'm sick, George."

"So?"

"So what? You want me to kiss you and get you sick?"

"Maybe." Despite the casual response, Dream can tell how strongly George feels based on the speed of his reply. It makes Dream want to immediately give in, to fulfill whatever dumb desires George might have, though he pauses to give the idea more thought.

"Well, I'm not doing that," he finally concludes.

"Why not?" George bites back.

"Because I don't want to get you sick!"

George's eyes twinkle, clearly affected by the way Dream cares for him, the way Dream's voice softens again in genuine concern. But George masks it with another flourished sigh. "You're just full of excuses, aren’t you?"

Dream scoffs and rolls his eyes, though underneath his hard demeanor is a bundle of excitable energy, still shaken by how forward George is being. "This is an impossible situation. I would kiss you now, but then you'd get mad at me later for getting you sick."

It's the closest Dream has gotten to admitting that he actually wants to kiss George—really, truly does—and it makes George melt a bit, makes him shrink into the nook of his own arm when he looks up into Dream's eyes. "No," he denies, softly now.

The cogs in Dream's brain spin a tad slower at the sudden change in George's behavior. Dream looks over George's figure for a beat longer before he lowers his phone and throws his arm under his head, angling himself so that he can keep George in his vision. "I don't even think we should be laying this close right now," he says, defenses weakening.

"Right, but we have been, so there's no use in you not kissing me if I'm probably already sick," George murmurs.

Dream snickers. "Your logic is soundproof." His face scrunches up. "Er... I mean, foolproof."

George laughs, loud in the current quiet of the room. "Soundproof," he mocks, voice as small and warm as he is physically.

Dream chuckles with him before carefully resting a warm hand above George's hip. Crazy, he thinks, that I can just do that now. His fingers play with the hem of George's hoodie, the oversized Dream merch that Dream is as addicted to seeing George wear nearly as much as George is addicted to wearing it. "You wish this place was soundproof," Dream jokes after the long stretch of silence.

George looks so content in this moment that he nearly forgets to respond. "...What's that supposed to be mean?"

"Oh, suddenly you have no idea?"

"No...?" George says, playing dumb. It might seem legitimate enough if his mouth weren't drawn in a cheeky grin.

They lay there for a while, comfortably still and staring at each other, until George's arm snakes forward and over Dream's side. Dream thinks it's a nice start to a night-long cuddling session, but then he's jolted by George's hand smacking and grasping his asscheek.

Blushing wildly, Dream elbows his arm away. "What are you–! Come here." As quickly as he can recover, Dream pounces on George, rolling the man onto his back and holding him close. They both dissolve into hiccupy laughter as Dream attacks his neck with loud, sloppy smooches.

"Eugh, stop!" George giggles. He barely tries to bat Dream away, face twisted in his widest smile all day. Dream is relentless in burrowing his face in the narrowing space of George's neck. "Stop, you're tickling me!" George happily shrieks. His shoulders are by his ears by the time he can spit out, "You're gonna get me sick!"

Laughing, Dream pulls away. "You're such an idiot," he says, before George reaches up to hold his face between his hands, kiss the tip of his nose, then pull him in for a direct kiss on the mouth.

They both have stars in their eyes when they break away. "I don't care," George says, breathless.

And they kiss again, and again, and again, in all the quiet spaces of this corner of the world and throughout the long travels home, up until George inevitably finds himself feeling a bit under the weather—and Dream still kisses him then, too, because he doesn't care either, and also because he cares so, so much.

He kisses George as much as he can, wherever and whenever. Each time, Dream feels incredibly warm, swimming in that same special energy he felt in the heart of Antarctica.

All thanks to George, the man who always and forever kisses him back.

[circulars-reasoning]

Each Community Has It's Problems...

In particular, this post is going to address my time in the pro-endo community. JAS made a very good vent post in 2021 about some of those issues, explaining how it created some distaste for him for endogenics in general. It's been circulating again and I wanted to add on a few things. Thought I would make my own post, though, as my thoughts are separate from his.

This post isn't as nuanced as they always will be, but I wanted to be able to share these things. Anyone is allowed to interact with this post!

First off, this phrase "plural is what you want it to be" is something I see on a daily basis in the inclusive servers I'm currently in, and it's something I saw quite a bit in the plural spaces I used to be in. Essentially, "plural" as a label is for anyone - singlets included - so long as they feel the term is "right" for them, or helps them.

I have an innate distaste for this. The reason I do is because of how that mentality was used to hurt and abuse me repeatedly, as a now diagnosed DID system.

When I first joined plural spaces, I was constantly fucking fakeclaimed by pro/endos. I was constantly told I was autigenic, that I was mixed-origin at best, that my trauma "wasn't enough" - because I couldn't describe any. But it wasn't fakeclaiming the likes of what we see on FDC. It was "loving" and "caring."

I express needing desperate help, because I'm having panic attacks and have no idea why. "Have you considered it's your autism and you're melting down? Is someone else internally stressed about school?" No, I was having flashbacks to my trauma and instantly forgetting what I had seen in my mind, because I wasn't ready to see it. So I sat, and puzzled, and accepted that I Was Just Like This. After all, everyone else around me was "just like that," and they had their own strategies to help them - none of which seemed to help me. So I became incredibly defeatist. I believed I was just going to always be a dysfunctional plural, because I couldn't lock away my alters like was suggested. I couldn't push away the trauma stressors in my life.

Plural spaces inherently encouraged me to ignore my trauma, because they offered a million different options for what I was actually experiencing. And it was like being traumagenic was taboo - if you were traumagenic, you were pushed away into a corner, told you could party with the rest of them if you kept it under wraps. I join servers to this day where discussions of dormancy, splitting, integration, and fusion - all incredibly fundamental parts of my disorder and healing from my disorder - are part of blacklists. "We don't want to trigger anyone!" Have you considered what you're actually doing is blacklisting the healing process those like me require? Integration is inherent for healing from DID, but it's blacklisted in numerous servers I've seen and subsequently left.

The endogenic community strongly encourages further dissociation as well. Alters should be different; distinct. I've seen it encouraged to watch new media to "make new fictives." Source-calls encouraging introjects to connect deeper to sources, even date random strangers who "are from the same source" (not a thing). Everything I've seen in plural spaces focuses on being, well, Multiple People, and supporting that strongly - and working against that goal is frowned upon (i.e., final fusion being discussed as being death).

Those spaces also incredibly support unhealthy coping mechanisms for those like me who have DID. Maybe others are finding good resources out there in plural spaces, but... I'll talk about dissociation and be linked to PluralPedia. I'll ask about how to stay awake on a long drive, and be told "just force yourself to rapid switch, because a new alter will be fresh and awake!" (Hello, crashing my car).

I think that's as much time and energy as I have today. I just... I definitely understand the unease. I have been so greatly hurt in endo spaces, and while the inclusive spaces I am in now are better than those I was in previously - with more acknowledgment that those who say they have a disorder should be believed - there are still problems with Everything Being Valid If It Helps, with no recognition of the fact that, when you're maladaptive already, hurting yourself badly can look a lot like helping.

[writer-of-various]

It's me again!

This particular Trauma Prompt looks promising 👀

“you stayed?” “of course i stayed. why wouldn’t i?”

Lost count how much time I reread your fics

Y'know what I love besides Rudy? Angst: getting my beloved readers to sob and feel their hearts break as they read my fics. Thank you for the requests luv, this obsession with Rudy isn't gonna feed itself lmao.

Alejandro/Rudy

Rudy knew the mission was a bust when he and the others crept upon the hideout, the eerie silence and bright lights that attracted moths making the building and surrounding area suspicious. Too suspicious, too easy. He had alerted Alejandro, who assured him that the tip was accurate and came from a squad they sent in a week ago to scout out the area. Rudy wanted to believe it, wanted to believe that maybe this new unit had more loyal soldiers– soldiers that couldn't be torn into two as they weighed the pros and cons of being in the aforementioned unit or working with the enemy. It happened far too many times with soldiers in Los Vaqueros, each soldier was someone that Rudy took care of, ensured their safety and freedom, but he also knew that the cartel was the easy way out. Far more protected, but not the same loyalty within each member, your best friend can turn and point a gun at your head with a blank expression. He's seen it far too many times as well.

Soap and Gaz went to scout out the outskirts while Ghost guided and covered them from a higher ground. Price was their leader, and Rudy knew he had to confront the captain about his concerns. He barely took a step forward when an explosion goes off, three meters from the hideout, and the roar of cartel members had them in fight or flight mode. His theory proved to be correct, the unit has a rat and the whole mission was an ambush to kill Task Force 141. Rudy was quick to cover Alejandro as they advanced forward, easily pushing through the ruthless cartel members with their strategy. Alejandro made a move to kick open a door once they snuck inside the hideout, only for it to slam open in his face and a flash grenade to go off, blinding the two. Rudy struggled as hands grabbed him, disarming him and something heavy hit his head, the corner of his vision going black but he forced himself to stay away.

"Colonel!" He shouts, everything a blur and it feels like he's moving, not on his own though. He hears Alejandro screaming for him, asking for him, and Rudy is about to question what's going on when something sharp pricks the side of his neck and he succumbs to a dreamless unconscious.

When he came to, he was tied to a chair, his gear still intact but the restraints were tight, presumably cutting off his circulation if the stabbing numbness in his hands and arms were anything to go by. Four men walked in, three with their faces covered by neck gaiters but the one in charge had his identity exposed. A dark glint was in his eyes and Rudy feels something uneasy churn in his stomach, unsure what that smug yet dark look could mean.

"You have strayed too close to dangerous territory. No one is here to protect you, to save you, so I strongly advise that you give up." The man says, pacing in front of Rudy with his hands behind his back. "Where is your base?"

Rudy snorts, a roll of his eyes irritating his captor; "Vete a la mierda, pendejo." His hand snaps to the side in the blink of an eye, an ache settling quickly and Rudy notices the heavy rings adoring the man's fingers.

"You are in no position to talk back, puta." He growls, leaning close to Rudy and staring the sergeant major in the eyes. "Talk now or you're going to regret it."

Rudy is defiant, he stays quiet and prepares himself when the man kicks his chair, knocking him to his back. The man barks orders to the other three and they rush forward, cutting the restraints and shoving him down on the wooden floor. Rudy struggles, eyes wide as the man hovers over him with a knife, the tip of the blade trailing down his shirt and cutting it open in the process.

"Mostrémosle a esta perra lo que hacen los hombres de verdad." Rudy refuses to falter, the statement and chuckles from the four confusing him but he hides it. Everything is quick and confusing until his trousers are being practically ripped off and he panics, kicking his legs, bucking his hips, thrashing like a cat about to take a bath but it's all futile. He whimpers when a hand tightens itself around his neck, calloused fingers digging into his flesh. He scratches at the closest person to him when his underwear is ripped off, the cold air sending goosebumps all over his body. The exposure sent blood to his face, red from embarrassment and anger at being so pathetically weak. Something heavy hits his head again and a groan escapes his lips, the dull pain sending waves of dizziness throughout his head. Black creeps up on his vision again, either from the hand restricting his air supply or the harsh hit that rattled his brain against his skull. A hand, large and heavy, trails up his inner thigh and he feels vomit crawl up his throat, which is now free of the other hand that left bruises in its wake. Tears well up and he tries to prepare himself for what comes next when the door slams open and heavy footsteps walked in.

"Sir, the task force is outside now, we have to leave." Rudy's brows furrow together, heart beating at the thought that the others showed up, that they're going to save him, but his mind is supplying him with negative thoughts. The hands disappear and he looks at the men with a glare that stays on his face even as they kick him and restrain him once more.

"Set up the timer for the explosion." The target orders and Rudy's eyes widen. The others were outside, and if they were looking for him, they would die. Because of him. He tries to free his hands, panic settling and he curses as each tug scraped his skin raw. It doesn't stop him and his wrists are bleeding when he finally manages to free himself, struggling to stand as his chest heaved, begging him to stop moving. One of them must have sprained or broken a rib or two.

Rudy hastily digs inside his hoodie, where concealed pockets were lined equal to the external pockets. He takes out his phone and with shaky fingers call Alejandro, tears welling up as something odd filled the air. He's either going to die from carbon monoxide poisoning or being blown apart, but he'll be damned if he lets Alejandro or the others risk their lives stepping inside whatever infrastructure he's trapped in.

"Rudy? Where are you, amor?"

"A-ale, don't come into the building. T-they...they set up explosives and..." Rudy tries inhaling, getting air in his deprived lungs but the air was heavy and Rudy knew he was too injured. He tried standing, Alejandro's concerned yells background noise and he whimpers when his left ankle almost buckles as he applies pressure on it. Shit.

"Rudy, stay where you're at!" Alejandro orders and he hears footsteps thundering over the phone, his hands shake and he tries to take a step forward but ends up falling forward. Everything hurts, everything burns, and feels disgusting as the man's touch lingers. Rudy barely notices that he's still partially undressed but doesn't care, he knows it'll be a pain to try sliding back on his boxers.

"RUDY!" It's like Hassan all over again, hands grasping him and he's being carried bridal style out of the room, Alejandro begging him to stay awake and a cloth is thrown over his mouth and nose. "Rudy, amor, don't breathe in now."

"A-ale" Rudy whines, the jostling sending waves of pain throughout his body. He hears curses and instinctively flinches, curling closer to Alejandro as fresh air threatens to suffocate him. He's gently laid down in the back of a van, Alejandro kneeling besides him and the engine is started up. Rudy whimpers as they speed off, Ghost moving over to him and despite the large structure and stoic look of the man that still sent nervous shivers down Rudy's spine, Ghost's touch is soft and gentle– an overall contrast to the rest of him. He only remembers Alejandro laying something over his lower half, and Ghost begging him in that commanding yet desperately soft tone of his to stay awake. He doesn't.

—

When Rudy wakes up, there's a machine beeping to his left and a dim light revealing the shadow cast white walls of a hospital room. There's quiet chatter outside and he moves to sit up, startled when two warm and familiar hands force him still. His wide, chocolate-brown eyes look up, a relieved sigh escaping his lips when he saw Alejandro.

"Rudy..." Alejandro whispers.

"You stayed?" Rudy mumbles, feeling bad when Alejandro's expression morphs into one of despair and hurt.

"Of course I stayed, why wouldn't I?" Alejandro sits down, hands moving to intertwine with Rudy's slightly smaller ones. Rudy averts his gaze, face heating up as Alejandro leans close to him.

"I ruined the mission, again. It's just like Hassan, Ale. I get hurt and the enemy gets away."

"Stop, Rudy, stop. I hate it when you talk like this, putting yourself down when how the mission went wasn't your fault at all. I should have listened to you, cariño, when you told me something felt wrong. Lo siento, Rudy, it's all my fault they got you and took you away from me."

Rudy shakes his head, "Ale, please don't blame yourself."

"Then you can't blame yourself either, amor." Alejandro says sternly. Rudy looks like he wants to argue but is too tired and knows this argument would be in Alejandro's favour.

"Fine, deal." Rudy pouts and Alejandro laughs softly, pressing a kiss to his partner's temple.

"Mi hermosa esposa, tan fuerte y aterradora." Alejandro teases and Rudy gently smacks his chest, his flustered face getting darker as Alejandro barks out a laugh.

"No kisses for you, querido." Rudy says, and Alejandro pouts. Rudy sighs after a minute, moving aside and patting the space besides him. Alejandro happily slides besides Rudy, wrapping his arms around the smaller male's body and holding him close.

"Te amo, Rudy. I'll always protect you, I promise, mi vida."

"Te amo, Ale. I'll follow you everywhere."

[rahorak]

@piltover-sharpshooter swore an oath : ⭐️ for Kayle and Leona of course!

Send ⭐️ for a headcanon about our muses.

I'll give u a few 'cause I'm generous ( And they're my favs. ) Above all, I love that as people they're so different. Their world views are almost polar opposites, and yet . . . perhaps there's things that they have in common, depending on the portrayals of each character. There's room for tonnes of angst, though, imo. For the sake of simplicity, I'll go off of what we know about canon Kayle and mix in a dash of my own ideas which, you're free to pluck from as you see fit should you want to! Plus what I could read from yours.

Let's do something fun and let my STARSET playlist decide on a few ( Vague. ) scenarios for us. They're one of my favorite bands and def have some vibes that fit these two, I'd say.

Few honorable mentions songs that I wanted to include but made the post too long are : SOLSTICE, DIE FOR YOU, ICARUS, OTHERWORLDLY, Telepathic, Dark On Me.

➤ㅤEARTHRISE.

Then I saw you from a distance, you were worlds away — Oh, but you had me from the vision, I never looked away, again . . .

A first meeting between Aspects. I strongly headcanon that the Aspects and their hosts can sense each other, like a truly magnetic pull or push kind of feeling when they draw near one another. Whether it's the former or the latter depends on the dynamic the Aspects have, so for example, the Sun and Moon have both ; there is a strong pull towards each other and yet they push apart like magnets at times.

Whether Kayle and Leona would feel a push or a pull when near each other, especially the first time, depends on Justice and Sun's standing at that time — but what if they were good? What if they were great?

What if they were drawn to each other from the get go? Would they give in to the feeling, or would they fight it thinking it was strange or refuse to let an outside force decide their course of action?

They said that we both were too different, that all of the shine would fade away. But I wish that I never listened, 'cause you pulled me through the grey . . .

This might be angsty but hear me out. Because their view points are so different, what if they fell apart as quickly as they collided? But because they are drawn to each other, they keep repeating this cycle of breaking up and making up?

Or, their duties lead them to different places where the other can't go. Maybe physically, maybe emotionally or mentally. They keep going without each other for extended periods of time because they both put their duties first, but they can't help but seek each other out when there's a window to do so.

What if Leona can't condone what Kayle does, or Kayle can't see past Leona's soft heart — her forgiveness even of those who wronged her?

➤ㅤHALO.

I can see you running, running, every night from the same darkness. It's coming, coming, but you are not alone . . .

What if Kayle struggles with a few things. What if her faith in herself and what she does wavers? What if she has to deal punishment to a particularly heartbreaking case? What if doubts about what happened with her sister creep in?

Leona would be there. She would help Kayle back on her feet, even if that that means casting aside her own thoughts and feelings on the matter to support her. To help her be the person she needs to be. But she would always support her, be the voice of reason or the one who takes hold of her hand and tells her it'll be okay. They don't even have to have anything much going on — Leona would do this out of the goodness of her own heart . . .

Send out the signal and I'll fly low, if it means the death of me, I won't let go. And if I'm lost in the world's shadows, I'll use the light that comes to me from your halo, your halo . . .

. . . And maybe Kayle struggles with that, too. The fact that Leona just wants what's best for her, and the fact that she never asked her to care as much as she does. Maybe she struggles to understand why. Maybe she'd try to repay her by doing something for her in turn, or maybe she'd even descend from the skies should Leona find herself in grave peril.

Maybe, I don't know, Kayle would struggle to understand why she herself cares so much? Maybe a mid life crisis is inbound? Or maybe she's fine with the fact. Who knows.

What matters is that in the end of the day, they somehow have each other's backs. They're capable in their own rights, but knowing that someone else would take a blow for you should the need arise? Chefs kiss.

➤ㅤSATELLITE.

Far across the emptiness I walk the night, and search the silence in the dark you left behind. I seek the stars above the world to be the guides, but they all pale against the light in your eyes . . .

And what if they are parted? Kayle taking the mantle after her mother, or some other duty binds her to leave Leona perhaps for good. Perhaps they just managed to form a strong bond when one of them gets called away, or fate spins its wheel and pushes them apart. Maybe one of them is lost somewhere. Maybe they're both lost, without each other.

Having tasted what it's like to love, to really care, perhaps even to sacrifice a part of yourself in order to be with that person, to surrender oneself. All of these things leaving them both yearning . . .

And I won't suppose to know why you walked away, but I can feel you pushing through beyond the space. To send your energy to me and I'll push through, send your signal home and bring me back to you . . .

. . . And feeling that pull once more, as the other draws close. It's just a brief moment, at first. But the sensation returns, and stays a little longer each time. They reunite, either the way they left each other, or different — maybe one of them has changed in some way, or both of them. In any case. Their reunion would surely be powerful.

Maybe they thought they'd lost the other forever, that they were dead or had left them. But in that moment when they lock eyes once more and they just know that their bond is unbroken? That's powerful.

[new-pen-name]

The other Valentine

You can support me and read new stories earlier on Boosty! Cora put her mug back on the table and looked at her monitor. She had a lot of work to do today, but she couldn't focus on it. Something was holding her back, not letting her get to it. But what was it? The table next to her was still empty, even though it was already nine and she was getting worried. When Cora first started working at the company she hated the idea of sharing a small office with someone. She knew that with her luck this someone would be loud, obnoxious, driving her crazy. She wasn't wrong. Kim was all those things and more. She constantly asked Cora questions, saying that she just wanted to know her better. She would always snack behind her table, annoying Cora with the noise and the smell. She loved decorating her table for the holidays, making it look so bright Cora's eyes hurt. Right now there were pink and red stationary all over her table, paper hearts on the wall. It was Valentine's day and Cora couldn't wait to hear once again about Kim's plan for the evening. But, when Kim finally arrived, she didn't look happy or excited at all. "Hey," Cora said, looking at her coworker. Kim's eyes were red and puffy, no makeup on her face. Kim didn't answer. She just sat behind her table, put her purse down, and started working. She didn't bring her coffee and didn't ask Cora if she wanted one too. She didn't say a word, she didn't even look at Cora and, for some reason, it made her feel terrible. Cora never thought that she would miss Kim's comments, the sound of her laugh, the sound of her humming the songs. She needed to fix this somehow, she just didn't know how. She went to the kitchen and made two cups of coffee - black for herself and with lots of milk and sugar for Kim. She put on a smile as she walked back into the office and put one of them on Kim's table. "Here," Cora said. "I thought it'll cheer you up." Kim looked at the mug, then at Cora. "Why did you bring it to me?" she asked, her tone strangely cold which was unusual for Kim. "I thought you needed something to make your day better." Kim laughed. It was a bitter laugh, the kind COra never heard from Kim before. She stood up, her eyes in lever with Cora's now. "Like you care if I feel better or not!" she shouted, surprising Cora once again. "Do you think I don't know that you can't stand me? That you would love to have any space as long as I wouldn't be in it?" Cora wanted to stop her, but she didn't know how. "And now when I'm down you're here to kick me!" Cora would've stepped back, but her desk was already digging into the back of her thighs. "Hannah broke up with me today, okay? So no Valentine's, not stupid hearts and you won't need to hear about it! You should be happy about it, so, just leave me alone!" In her anger, Kim grabbed one of the paper hearts from the wall and pushed it into Cora's chest with force, about to pull her hand back, but Cora wouldn't let her do that. She took Kim's hand and pulled her closer. Much closer, looking at her confused expression, until she kissed Kim. Her lips were hot and soft, their kiss just an innocent touch of the lips, but it still left them both breathless. When Kim pulled away, she looked at Cora even more confused. "What?" was the only thing she could say. "I… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come at you so strongly." In a moment Kim's confusion turned into a wide smile, her eyes shining. "Wait, is this why you were always looking at me like that?" "Like what?" it was Cora's turn to be confused and feel her cheeks burning. "Like you wanted to kill me! But, I guess, you wanted to kiss me. Now that's interesting." "I already regret doing it," Cora shook her head, still holding the paper heart in her hand. "At least now we both have Valentines for the day," Kim smiled, leaning closer and kissing her again.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

; good enough

© @pedropcl

lee bodecker x fem!reader.

summary. your father invited you to his birthday party and things ended badly.

words. about 2.3k.

warnings, tags. nsfw, +18!!! drunk state, language, unprotected sex, daddy!kink, very brief degradation, mention of bodily fluids, very brief mention of violence. and i think that's all.

a / n. first time writing for this man that has me obsessed, so i hope y'all like it! none of my writings contains reader's body descriptions to be inclusive. if you find something out of place, please send me a message and i'll change it.

You didn't want to be there, but it was your father's birthday and you couldn't miss it. More than thirty minutes had passed since the last time you saw your husband standing in a corner of the large living room, sipping from his glass of whisky and judging every guest around in silence. Lee hated your parents, your family, their friends. And you didn't blame him. Your family never accepted him, always repeating that he wasn't good enough for you, nor your interests. Except for your mom. She wasn't the only one who didn't treat him like dirt.

Once that you escaped from your father's arms, showing you as a trophy and trying to set you up on a date with one of his best friend's sons, you stepped out of the house to the back garden. It was cold outside, having to close your jacket around your chest as you closed both arms over it. Following the footprints on the grass, you reached the improvised parking where different cars were stationed. The smoke coming from nowhere called your attention, glimpsing Lee sitting on the hood of his black Ford. Cigarette in his left hand and bottle of whisky in his right.

You doubted for a second to interrupt his moment of peace for the first time in two weeks. Two long weeks where you barely had spent time together. He started holding over his shifts because, apparently, there was too much paperwork to attend. You couldn't help but think that he was raving mad about you, or about something you did unconsciously. But the real problem was that your husband never used to talk about his feelings or what was going in his mind.

“I think you've drunk enough”. You uttered watching him raise the bottle to his lips.

Lee chuckled ironically, shaking his head. “Lucky me I don' care”.

Frowning and with your mouth pressed closed, you walked towards his position to face him. He had never talked to you like that, but he was being honest, shrugging his shoulders to point it out a little more.

“I do. I do care”.

“Don' worry, darlin'. I ain't gonna shame you in front of your family”. He scoffed bitterly, finally sipping from his drink. “Watya' doin' here anyway? Party's indoors”.

“You're here tho”.

“And who fuckin' cares, uh? You were having so much fun inside with that… pretty boy who works in Wall Street”. Your husband mocked taking a drag from his cigarette. “We should divorce, don' you think? So you coulda go with him to the big city, and don' be stuck in… How d'your father call it? Knockemshit. Stuck with a… fat sheriff of a shitty town”.

Lee didn't notice the tears blurring your gaze till he raised his face. The bitter smile curving his lips suddenly disappeared, putting his pale blue eyes away from you because it was too painful for him to watch you cry. Your husband gulped hardly, kissing his teeth as he threw the cigar somewhere on the ground. You couldn't believe he really wanted to divorce you, wrapping your heart with a suffocating sorrow that barely let you breathe. He was your life and, after three years together, he seemed to not give a shit about it sometimes.

“I ain' like them”. You whispered sniffing.

“Tha' doesn' change the fact that you don' deserve a man like me. Your father is right. 'M a fucking loser compared to anyone inside his damn house”.

You loved Lee with all your heart, soul, mind, body. He was everything you want in your existence —your life. So damn obsessed with his touch, his kisses, his smell of wind and leather, his smile, that beautiful pair of pale blue eyes. You refused to believe he was talking seriously.

“You should be there. I— Imma go home, tell your mo—”.

Before your husband could finish his goodbye, you interrupted him by slapping his face. He didn't see that coming and you'd never imagine yourself hitting him. But you needed it, seeming the only way to stop him from abandoning you there. He kept his face away from you, trying to comprehend what had just happened. His drunkenness suddenly disappeared, pressing his inner cheek with the tip of his tongue whilst rubbing his hand over the reddened skin. You were so mad right now that you could set on fire the whole world.

And you were about to do it a second time when Lee caught your wrist in the air, painfully gripping his fingers around it to push you closer —chest against chest. Then, he raised his index finger. “Don' you fuckin' dare to try it again, y'hear me?”

You were furiously breathing, but not filling your lungs with air in reality, keeping your eyes on the blue ones that used to steal your heart every single day. It was like a contest of dominance you knew he always won. Any time.

Your husband didn't give you the chance to say sorry, slamming his lips on yours. A moan died in his tongue when it invaded your cavity while releasing your arm to fly his rough big hands to your ass, almost grabbing it all with his long fingers. Your digits went to the lapels of his leather jacket, not lasting too much there till finishing on the back of his head.

Lee was hungry for you, just like you were for him after two long weeks barely touching each other. Your husband devoured, sucked, and bit your lips, urging you to turn around enough to push you on top of the hood of his car. His hands pulled up the skirt of your dress, wanting to reach the waistband of your panties, receiving the great surprise that you weren't wearing any.

“You little dirty girl… Don' wantin' your Sheriff to lose time, uh?” He grunted with such an animal and eager tone, as he took care of the belt and the zip of his pants.

“I need you”. You sobbed against his lips, feeling his hands maneuvering between your legs.

At least, you were fast enough to cover your mouth with a hand when Lee rammed his rock dick into your soaked cunt, drowning in your palm a loud cry of pure satisfaction for being filled by your husband. Back and forth, he hit your body once and once, impaling you against the Ford still being furious by the way your father and friends treated him as if it was your fault. Lee was mad, really mad, digging his fingers in your hips to pin you on place and don't move, continuing fucking you harder and harder —challenging you to not be able to be quiet and make everybody heard how good he used to made you feel.

“Goddammit… you're so damn ti— tight, baby doll… So tight fo— for your daddy, ain' ya?”

“Yes… Yes, daddy”. You cried hiding your face into the crook of his neck.

His strong scent filling your lungs caused you to roll your eyes white, letting your soul leave your body while his cock attacked fiercely your pussy with no mercy. Your vocals were in sync with the screeching noise the car produced in every thrust straight to your guts. The pace was insane, intense than never before, and more pleasurable than you could imagine in your life.

Lee was aware how much you loved him, that you felt devotion for him. But sometimes —sometimes like those— he couldn't help but think he could lose you as soon as you realized who he was in reality. You didn't care. You weren't blind. You knew about his dirty laundry, his past, his sister (...). And you still wanted him with all your heart and body.

“Fu— Fuck, gonna put a… baby inside you”. He growled, wrapping his right around your throat to urge you to face him. “Y'want it, uh? D'you want dad— daddy to put a baby in that… beautiful belly?”

“Yes… please, Lee”. You whined with teary eyes, being too much pleasure for your body to handle. “Please, daddy… I wa— want you to… get me pre— pregnant with your child”.

Your husband's lips curved up in a petty smirk, pulling out from your dripping cunt, causing you to sob in disappointment. Lee managed to put you down on your shaky feet to turn you and force you to bend over the hood of his car. Ass upped, legs spread. He only took a second to stare at your glistening and abused folds in your arousal, prior to impaling you again. With a hand on your lower back and the other tangled in your head, your husband obligated you to arch your back as he continued banging your anatomy once and again.

At this point, you had forgotten your name, where you are, and if someone could hear how you cried pleased any time he crashed against your g-spot. It was a mix of pleasure and pain as Lee wasn't having any kind of compassion with your cunt, clenching unconsciously around his hard length. He knew then how close you were to cumming for him —because of him—, increasing the pace while you tried to find a place to put your hands on and find some balance to stay in place. As soon as the hand tangled in your hair landed back to your throat, you gripped five fingers around his wrist, enjoying the brief lack of air because of it.

“C'mon, my swe— sweet whore… Y'wanna cum for daddy, don't ya?”

His raspy and wrecked voice fell into your ear like an angelic melody, not being able to hold your moans anymore within your mouth. The knot inside your lower belly was bigger and bigger and suffocating, feeling how it could explode at any time. Lee shoved his cock non-stopping producing a sloppy obscene sound when his pelvis crashed against your ass, along the chink of his belt against the back of your thigh.

“Daddy… Daddy…” You called him while the tears started to fall again through your cheeks, this time, of absolute satisfaction.

You couldn't help but bite your lip strongly till the metallic taste of blood covered your tongue, letting yourself go as the knot bursted within your belly. The orgasm threw you above the edge with your husband's palm covering your mouth to not be heard or it would be really awkward to be caught by all the guests, even if he didn't care. He wouldn't mind showing that pretty boy from New York that nobody could fuck his little dirty girl better than himself. Oh, how funny it would be to see his face while your husband was ramming his cock into your abused pussy, cumming inside your tight walls, digging his teeth in your neck to mark his territory.

Lee came with a sensual and passionate hoarse gasp causing you goosebumps bristling your skin, burying himself balls deep to hold it inside the mix of your juices filling up your center. It felt like being in Heaven, although you weren't sure if you could walk after such an intense quickly, feeling your walls burning as his dick still twitching and stretching your cunt.

Your husband wasn't a man of kisses after sex, that's why he surprised you when tilted your face to his and pressed his lips on yours, panting, not caring about the lack of breath. It wasn't a lustful kiss either, more than a tender and fondly one, tasting your mouth, playing with your tongue.

Pulling out his semi-erection, Lee helped you to clean yourself with a tissue before using it to clean your arousal on him and toss it to the ground. As he put on his pants, you fixed your dress and your hair, turning around.

“You meant it?” You dared to ask, still having sorrow covering your voice. “Gettin' divorced… You mean it?”

“What?” He inquired, squinting confusedly until he realized what you were talking about. He chuckled holding your chin with two fingers. “You married me, darlin'. There's no other way you're gonna spend your life but with me. Willingly or not, you hear me?”

Lee raised both eyebrows very sure of his word before you nodded your head with a fleeting smile crossing your lips.

“Can we go home now…?”

“'S that what you want?”

You nodded your head a second time, while your husband placed his arms around you with hidden possessiveness to guide you back to your childhood's house. And of course, your father was enraged when you told him that you were leaving with your husband. He yelled at you and nobody tried to stop him till the moment he had the brilliant idea of pretending to lay a hand on you.

Lee punched him. Lee broke his nose. Lee made your father fall to the floor between the pretty boy's arms. And Lee never felt better in his whole damn life.

“Don't you ever come back to this house, if you leave now with this… bastard”.

“She doesn' need you”. Your husband cooed wrapping your neck with an arm, leaning slightly to borrow your purse. “Ma'am, my pleasure a see ya' again. The beef was delicious. G'night”.

You were yet processing what just happened, ashamed of the desire for your husband himself awakened inside you after watching him hitting your father. Lee could be a total asshole sometimes but one thing was undeniable: he loved you with all his heart and soul, he was obsessed with you since the very first time his oceanic eyes contemplated you walking down the street, smelling a bucket of roses you bought for yourself.

Never again you knew anything about your family. Not even when your son, called after your husband, was born. But you weren't sad. As Lee said, you didn't need them. You had your own family to take care of.

feedback is appreciated. if you enjoyed it, please leave a comment so i can know your opinion. reblogs are needed.

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[wwwcapricorncom]

hii could i request something? i don't mind whether it's a headcannon with some drabble or a longer scenario, do whatever you have time for. make sure you're taking care of yourself 🥰

oki so nsfw haikyuu, im very indecisive so I'll give you a list of some characters - feel free to include multiple alsjdggwgw.

tsukishima, kageyama, miya twins, kuroo, bokuto, yknow throw in hinata for some spice. basically anyone that would rUiN me 😗✌️

okay so for the scenario literally go wild with it, I'd love to have a few kinks involved like dumbification, verbal degrading, use of "puppy", breeding, denial, overstimulation and masochism (or sadism if you look at it from the characters side).

feel free to improv if there's anything specific you've been wanting to write lmao I'm happy with anything.

have fun hehe

Eep! You’re so sweet I could cry T^T. You’re my first ask btw so Thank you thank you! Anyone who enjoys this post, please thank anon! This will also be my first work for haikyuu so I hope it will be good! In addition, i'll write the reader as Fem for now bc it wasn’t specified, so I hope that’s okay<3. I was gonna include all characters, but I felt I kept you waiting long enough.

Okay so im thinking…. How they act when domming WITH BOKUTO, ATSUMU, OSAMU, TSUKI, AND HINATA.

Genre: SMUT/MINORS DNI/ 18+/ Characters aged up

Warnings: dumbification, verbal degrading, use of "puppy", breeding, denial, overstimulation, masochism & sadism, a wee bit of impact play in Osamu’s... it just happened, gagging, nose pinching, praising, oral (fem and male receiving), dom dynamics, use of the word “daddy.

                                                      BOKUTO

Bo is a wild card, so anything can activate his dom moods and they can vary from service to hard domming.

You have to watch out for those days when you do something that he finds so cute because that’s when he wants to be a service dom.

And that means fucking you completly dumb.

“C’mere puppy”, just wants to show you how much he appreciates and adores you, so he has to make you feel so good that you turn into mush.

Always fucks you in a position that relies solely on you having to rely on him because it’s such a power trip for him.

Will have you picked up and getting fucked against the wall of your room as he tells you how cute you are.

Seeing you like this triggers something so animalistic in him, he is suddenly so hyper focused as he fucks you like an animal.

LOUDDDD

Just wants to see how wrecked you’ll get for him, but wrecks himself too.

~

“C’mere puppy, gonna pick you up.” You're a mess already, having been getting fucked into on your back by your boyfriend. Still, you put your hands out so he can pull you into his broad chest and up you two go. He smiles at your compliance and goes in to kiss your cute lips, albeit deeply as he sucks on your tongue and bottom lip which makes saliva string you two together when pulling away.

By the time he is done kissing you, he has your bare back pressed against the cool surface of your room walls and is nudging the head of his big, fat cock back into your needy hole. “Ah! Bo, fuck! like this?”

You can’t help but ask while clinging to him for dear life as he bottoms out in you. All he can do is nod, one hand strongly wrapped around your lower back, close to your ass, and the other flat against the wall above your head. He loves the way you cling to him, much like how your soft walls do at the slightest dragging of his cock. In and out. He begins to buck his hips up into you and you bounce at the sheer force of each of his thrusts, breast bouncing gloriously in front of him too as he eyes them.

You’re open mouthed panting in no time in rhythm with his thrusts as your eyes gloss over while looking into his golden ones. He searches your face before using force from his legs to start ramming into your spongy spot and you gasp, “fuck daddy wait!”

“Just wanna make you feel good pup, just let me…” He groans as he continues to fuck into your gspot, making you clench around him sporadically as you begin to moan, “i-if you keep thrusting there-

“You’ll cum? Good, cum for me and i'm not gonna stop either.” He states seriously as he picks up his pace, moving the hand he had around you to your hip and gripping it tightly as he enclosed you against the wall more. You had no choice but to take the harsh thrusts that he was giving you, each retraction taking the air from your lungs before the thrust to your spot delivered intoxicating pleasure.

Your fucking head was getting cloudy as you succumbed to the pleasure, sweat trickling down the valley of your breasts at the body heat you two were producing, the mere sight of you sruggling to determine what you should do makes him go feral. Gripping both of your hips, with a bruising glasp, he makes sure the top half of your back is still resting on the wall as he begins to bring you down on his dick while thrusting up.

“You look so fucking sexy like this! Shit, I love having you on my cock!” He is growling now as you moan incoherent sentences, clinging to him closely you decided on just nodding your head. Too fucked out for anything else as he dominated your throbbing core.

He moans loudly at this as he balls slap aggressively against your ass, “already fucked dumb, pup? Fuckkkkk just how I wanted you.” He says as you start to go weak from the pleasure of your orgasm staring to consume you, moving to place your head in between the crook of his neck. He doesn’t let you though, grabs you by the chin and forces your unfocused eyes to stay on him as drool trickles down your skin from your lolled out tongue.

How could he not watch you go dumb on his cock as he fucks your through your orgasm and into his. You two are going to be so sloppy when he’s done.

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

                                                           TSUKIII

This fucking Psychopath mean and hard dom.

The most verbal degrader, but also lovesss to humiliate you too.

Just looks at you condescendingly, but is trying to hide his amusement.

“You look so pathetic right now, sweetheart.” is pushing his glasses up with one hand.

Has the other hand buried two fingers deep in your needy cunt.

All you can do is whine because for fucks sake he won’t give you anything, but shallow thrusts. All because

“If you want more then fucking work for it!”

Has you fucking yourself on his fingers in an instant while he snickers and smirks  (still being mean) as if his hard on isn’t threatening to fucking cream his pants.

~

“TSUKIII!” You whine as you grip his wrist that is connected to the fingers inside your dripping cunt.

“You look so pathetic right now, sweetheart” He states with a smirk as he gives you two sharp aimless thrusts into your cunt, making you whine louder.

“P-please just give me more! Stop being so mean!” You say as you look up at his shirtless frame. You know by the look on his face that he is having fun, that he enjoys seeing you so needy and you hate that you’re feeding into it. But it’s so hard, when he has been fingering you to the edge and stopping every time right before you could even release.

“You want more? Then fucking work for it, whore!” He says almost sadistically and you nod as you lift your hips up to meet his fingers. You begin to thrust up into his two nimble, long fingers as you clench around him. Your walls are thankful for the aggressive friction that you are finally getting after 3 near orgasms.

One particular rough thrust hits your g spot and you moan lewdly, tongue almost hanging completely out as you feel the familiar tingles of a strong orgasm. Just as you go to lift your hips up to ram into his fingers in the exact same way, his other hand is pressing you firmly down onto the mattress, halting your attempts.

You fucking choke on a sob as tears obscure your vision and he snickers, “Aw you’re such a crybaby!”

But seeing your flushed face and rising chest as your lip quivers, does it for him. And he’s a little mad at himself because you won and don’t even know it. I mean now he just has to fuck you- you just look so pretty, begging for him after he’s been so fucking mean to you. Crying. Gosh, it makes his dick twitch as precum trickles down to his balls.

Yep, now he’s gonna fuck that needy cunny and give you all that you wanted and then some.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

                                                      ATSUMU

Much like Tsuki, he is also a mean and hard dom, but actually has the ability to turn into a soft one.  

Loves to degrade too but because he loves feeling superior. 

Will be at his meanest when he just lost a match and Def takes it out on that cunt. 

Right after like right after the game, he has you riding him in the fucking car. 

Is being so mean too, “don’t tell me that’s all ya got, ya little slut?”

“Ride my fucking dick then!”

Once you amp it up though, fuck his tune switches so fast. “God yer so fuckin’ wet, gonna breed ya just right bc ya think ya can fuck me like this and get away with it?”

Like sir you were just… anyways he will hug you into his chest and mark your flesh up. 

Fills you to the brim while praising and then makes you sit with it leaking into your underwear all the way home 

~

“Come on slut, fully sit on it. I don’t care if it hurts!” Atsumu grumbles as he smacks your ass, making your legs quiver and a few more inches to slip further into your stretching sex.

He’s so big and that asshole barely prepared you before telling you to basically spear yourself on his erect cock. He’s only this mean when he loses and as much as you wish you could say you hate it, you don’t at all.

You love proving him wrong and he always tries to be right, the only difference is he is being meaner right now. That’s why he slams you the rest of the way down on his cock and has your eyes springing open as you arch and shake with a loud cry.

You can’t even express how full you feel or how it feels like he could’ve just broken you, but your pussy can. It’s gushing around him as if you just came, making a mess at his base and his neatly trimmed pubes.

“Don’t ya fuckin’ dare cum yet, don’t tell me that’s all ya got, ya little slut!” He growls taking ahold of your neck with his large hand. You whine at this putting your two smaller hands around his forearm and shaking your head ‘no’, mind getting cloudy.

He sits up a bit, sweaty back unsticking from his leather seats as he gets inches from your face, still clenching your neck, grasping tighter even.

“Then. Ride. My. Fucking dick!” He snaps, eyes dark as he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. You feel so aroused at this point, grinding your hips into his as your walls scream from the weak prep.

He continues to spew mean shit at you, further stimulating you as you begin to ride him faster. He is slipping soon after, groans tumbling out of his mouth as you bounce on his cock like a rabbit.

Whines sharply when you start to clap your ass down on the dick before hugging you to his sweaty chest. Your hard nipples will drag against his skin as he keeps you embraced, strong arms around your back as he sucks purple marks into your skin. Will begin to fuck up into you as he moans, “ya can’t ride me like that and not expect me t-to fill ya up, pretty!”

Doesn’t care for your response, too lost in his own delirium, as he concentrated on ramming all that fat cock into your hole in attempts to get deeper and deeper. And when he hears you finally cry out about how, “ ‘TSUMU! YOU'RE TOO DEEP!”

He is emptying his balls into you, with an iron grip on your hips to keep you firmly planted on him as he repeats, “gonna fuckin’ bread ya! Bread ya so good… look at that cunt drinking it all up ah!…such a good girl.”

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

                                                     OSAMU

Is the reverse of his brother- Is primarily a soft dom, but knows when to be a hard/ mean one.

Loves caressing you and giving you touches everywhere.

But is really good at commanding, does it calmly with hot lazy eyes. 

“Go a little faster… yea there ya go. Good.” 

“Don’t do that baby, ya wouldn’t want me mad right?”

Sometimes that is what you want thoe and you’re being such a brat that he understands too. 

That’s when he goes Dom, probably having enough of your bullshit.

Like if you’re teasing and disobeying him, per example, when you’re giving him head. 

Without warning will put a firm hand on the back of your head and push you forward roughly. 

Will fuck your face so meanly, scolding you about how, “this is what ya wanted.” 

~

“Come on, go a little faster baby.” Osamu commands and his matter of fact tone, the one he uses when he wants you to do something without protest, sends tingles to your cunt as you flutter your eyes up at him.

Deciding to obey this time, even though you know you want something a little more tonight, you begin sucking on his tip a little faster. He nods his head slowly, relishing the scene before him as he tilts his head back.

He’s really getting into it, baby loves when you suck him off on your knees. It always feels so good and he finds himself in this exact position. Head thrown back, eyes shut, one hand holding your makeshift ponytail, and the other on your cheek.

You love the look in his eyes, lustful and lazily hanging open as his pupils flicked down occasionally to drink in your movements. You were growing needy though, panties getting soaked as you rub your thighs together, sucking faster. His hums of approval indicated that he enjoyed this action as he wets his lips and rakes his fingers further through your hair.

Deviously you decided to take him in further and graze your teeth along his skin, something he loved but did not take kindly. It always made him feel way too good like he would cum way sooner than he would want to, so it pissed him off every time you did it. And you knew that it had worked now too when he let out a surprised hiss as you continued to lightly graze your teeth on his member. His breath is shaky as he lets go of the ponytail that he had formed to keep your hair out of your face.

“Fuckin’ mistake” he states seriosuly as his strong hand pushes on the back of your head, lunching you forward and making his cock fully slot itself in your throat. It hurt, it burned, and you were soaking yourself because of the pain. You loved when your daddy turned into such a meanie.

“Can never use yer fuckin’ words huh? Had to be a damn brat.” He grumbles as he starts to slam into your mouth, making tears trickle down the corners of your eyes as you try to keep up with the brutal pace.

He is groaning by now, the force of his thrusts making the veins pop from his arms and legs as your thighs get wet with arousal, “ya like it that much, nasty girl, huh!” You try to tell him yes, but a quick slap to your cheek makes you moan like an absolute slut. It was not enough to hurt, just sting and utterly surprise you, but it was more than enough for you, “don’t fuckin talk when I'm blessing ya with a full mouth.”

His tone is still as calm as ever which makes your pussy throb even more as you nod rapidly, desperately, doe eyes looking up at him as he smirks slightly before continuing to stretch your throat with brutal snaps of his hips. When he begins to cum, he makes sure to thrust fully into you, on his tippy toes, as he firmly plants one hand on the back of your head while using the other to pinch your nose closed.

You cum untouched, choking on his seed and gasping for air as tears stream down your face. But all he says is “ya wanted this and ya liked it, my little masochist.” Osamu has no problem being a sadist for you.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

                                                HINATA

SERVICE DOM !!!

Such a precious baby (reminds me of Izuku) loves to eat you out, but because he really wants you to feel immense pleasure.

Is so attentive, sucks on your breasts, licks your inner thighs, places kisses on your ankles and legs before diving in.

Holds your hand while using the other to spread you apart.

“You taste so good baby.”

Is the type to shake his head from side to side while eating that pussy.

Will overstim you on accident at first, but realizes he loves how easy it is to reel orgasms out of you when you’re sensitive.

“Cum again for me please?”

Oral with him almost always leads to over stimming… both ways.

~

“Another kiss here… and here….here.” Hinata mumbles against your skin as you arch into the touch of his soft, wet lips. He started at your own lips, made his way down to sucking your neck and breasts, paying special care to your nipples. Sucks and nibbles on them for so long that you're wet and the buds are throbbing and sore.

He will then move down, dragging his tongue down your stomach, kissing your belly button, licking at your thighs before grabbing them. He spreads you open, groaning at how your cunt is seeping with arousal as he stands up, your legs on his shoulders while he admires you.

Will kiss your ankles as he rubs his underwear covered cock along your slit, collecting your slick and dampening the fabric. When he can no longer kiss your flesh or produce light touches here and there, too needy, he dives in and kisses your pussy.

“Sho!” You gasp as your hands fly to his hair, weaving into the orange tuffs as he licks a long flat tongue up your entire cunt. He’ll sigh against your puffy clit after this, amazed that he gets to taste you whenever he wants, and this starts the feast.

He starts to suck and nip at your folds, cute nose bumping against your clit which makes you squeal each time, “you taste so good baby.” He groans again as he reaches to hold your hand that abandoned his hair in favor of gripping the sheets. Your heart swells at the cute action as you grasp his warm hand back and he reallys starts to get lost in your soaking cunt.

So engrossed in tongue fuckng you while rubbing your clit with his thumb, he doesn’t register your slight warnings of, “S-sho you’re going too f-fast!” Because you weren't used to being touched and cared for so attentively, him being the first to do you like this, and your orgasm was approaching so fast it was shocking you.

Precum is rushing out of his cock when you start cumming on his tongue, but he doesn’t stop there. He starts to shake his head between your legs from side to side, further stimulating you and getting sloppier, as he gulps and slurps and continues to eat you out.

“TOO SENSITIVE!” You yell as you start squirming away, but his hold on your hand just gets tighter as he flicks his eyes up to you, “cum again for me please? I know my beautiful girl can…” He says, hot breath fanning your quivering cunt as his dark eyes look up at you. You whine at his words, but accept and he's back to over-stimulating you, using his tongue to weave through your folds and into your hole, rubbing your clit harder.

You gush so much for him by the end of the night. And he hasn’t even fucked you with that monster stamina yet.

[one-sad-human]

•Pinky Promises• Steven Adler

Pairing: Steven Adler x Reader, Axl Rose x Sibling! Reader

Requested? Yup! By an anon

Theme: Angst(?) to fluff

Warnings: Language, sexual references but nothing explicit

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Fic 1 of 2! Hope you enjoy! Also, the makeout near the end gets sorta hot and it was pretty fun to write? Like I’m considering exploring into writing smutter pieces. I didn’t want to originally because I thought I’d cringe all the way through and hate the result but I might try it out in the near future. Nothing too crazy but it’s something for me to think about.

     You step off of the large bus, your combat boots hitting the ground as you adjust the bag slung over your shoulder. It's stuffed to the brim with whatever you threw in, you're surprised the zipper did burst.

     You take a deep breath of the LA air. It's hot and humid and despite the thick air pollution, you can breath easier than you did in Indiana.

     You grew up in Lafayette, Indiana with your older half-brother William. You were raised in the hellish house with your shared father, which you finally managed to escape.

     William left right at eighteen. He tried taking you with him, but you didn't want him to be charged with kidnapping and have the cops on his ass. Now, two years and your father's stolen wallet later, you're finally in the city of dreams.

     "Will!" You yell out, spotting your redheaded other half.

     "Y/N!" He mocks, catching your figure in a crushing hug. He's taller than you, so you have to stand on your tippy toes during the embrace. "Thank God you're alright."

     "I'm fine, I'm happy to finally see you again," you say, a huge grin on your face. "How's the band? Everything going well?"

     "Well enough," he says with a shrug, grabbing your heavy bag and slinging it around his shoulder. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the guys. You already know Izzy of course, but the rest of them."

     The walk to the 'hell house' as Will had called it is filled with catching up. He made sure to keep in contact with you, but the phone calls were always short. It felt nice to have a full length conversation in person with your brother again.

     "Welcome home," Will says, leading you into the house. You grimace when you catch a whiff of stale beer and weed.

     "You seriously live here? This place should be condemned," you say with disgust.

     "And then where would we live?" The oh-so familiar voice of Will's best friend meets your ears. You whip around and fly into his arms.

     "Jeffery! I missed you so much! You really should've tried calling, you ass!" You exclaim. Izzy rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless, patting your back during the hug.

     "Who's this?" Another man enters the living room— if that's what it should even be called. He's blonde, taller than you but shorter than the other two men in the room. He has kind eyes and the smile he has on his handsome face leaves you speechless.

     "U-uh, hi. I'm Y/N," you say after a moment of shameless gawking. If he noticed, he doesn't mention it.

     "Oh that's right! Axl talks a lot about you! I'm Steven," he says and bounds up to you, catching your hand in a shake. You don't question who the hell 'Axl' is, but you smile stupidly at him and bite your lip with a blush staining your face.

     "No," Will says, glaring at the cute blonde you've taking an immediate liking to. "Absolutely not."

     "William!" You squeak out, pinching his shoulder harsher. He yelps and swats your hand away. Will glares further at you as he ushers you up the creaky stairs to your room. "Nothing happened! And who the fuck is 'Axl'?"

     "I saw how you were looking at him! I'm not naive, Y/N. You were giving him the 'fuck me' eyes! And me, everyone calls me Axl here." You give him a look. "Except you, of course. You can call me Will."

     You don't give him another word as he leads you to your bedroom. He was the one who didn't have a roommate before, and he'd have to share with Slash now but he was determined to give you your privacy.

     "This is the only room with a working lock, use it. Especially when your changing! Three horny men in a house with one you isn't a good combo." You make a face and shake your head, but you can't really tell if he's being overprotective or if his band mates really are pigs.

     "Are you not including Izzy?"

     "Please, he's the only smart one besides me. He knows I'll rip him a new one." You laugh and give Will another hug.

     "I've really missed hanging out with you like this, and thank you for letting me stay here." He nods and rubs your back.

     "No problem, we have each other's backs, always." You nod and release your bother from the hug. "One rule though: no hooking up with the guys. One time thing or not, you don't know them like I do, I won't let you get hurt. So don't even try anything with Steven!"

     "Even if it's nothing sex?" Will levels you with a look that would make you sweat if you were anyone else. You sigh and roll your eyes. "Fine! I promise."

     "Pinky promise?" He asks, holding out his pinky finger. You shake your head but comply anyway, hooking your pinky on his.

     "Wow, bringing out the big guns, pinky promises," you tease.

     "Bitch," he mumbles. You gasp sarcastically.

     "Asshole!" You reply. William takes his leave with another slew of insults under his breath but none to be taken seriously and all with a smile. You shut your door after him and lay on your bed, content with how things are finally beginning to look up.

If you knew where you would be in just a few months of living with your brother and his band, you never would've agreed to the naive promise Will had forced on you. You think back to the day with a frown.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Steven asks, pecking your bare shoulder as he lays behind you on your bed. You both lay naked and damp with sweat, glowing from the moonlight streaming in the room.

"William," you say with a sigh.

"We just had sex and your thinking of your brother? Should I be worried about you?" Steven asks teasingly. You fight the smile growing on your face and lightly pinch the his arm tightly wrapped around you. He never fails to make you laugh.

"I just feel bad keeping this a secret from him." You turn around to be face to face with Steven. "It's been months of sneaking around. I'm always nervous we'll get caught together or I'll blurt it out to him."

"Then why don't we just tell him?"

"Do you want to die! Steven, honestly, do you have a death wish?"

"No, but—"

"Then we can't tell my brother we're together. He'll murder you, and then probably me one he finds out how long I've been lying to him," you say and move your head in the crook of Steven's neck.

"Then we can be together in the afterlife!" Steven folds his arms around you even tighter. "Seriously though, we can't lie to him forever. We've been together for six months already, surely he'll see how much we care about each other and not want to kill us."

"Yeah, maybe," you say halfheartedly and close your eyes, finally letting yourself fall asleep.

The next night, Guns has a gig at the Whiskey A-Go Go. The ritual goes like it has been, they play the gig, you wait for Will to get drunk, and you and Steven sneak out to the back of the club to make out and maybe get felt up a bit before returning like nothing happened.

It isn't different this time. Steven's hands leave your skin ablaze as he lets them wander down your sides and up your thighs. His lips don't leave yours, even as he squeezes your ass and you let out a moan. He grins on your mouth and presses his pelvis up to your stomach.

His mouth leaves yours to press feather light kisses to your cheek before trailing down your jaw and onto your neck, where he sucks nips at. You have to press a hand to your mouth to stay quiet.

"Don't leave marks," you remind him through batted breath.

"I won't," he reassures and silences you with a chaste kiss to your swollen lips before returning his attack on your neck.

You hear footsteps fast approaching, but as quickly as you hear them, Steven is ripped away from you. He's slammed into the brick wall next to you harshly and groans. You jump away and gasp.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" William asks, his voice lower than usual. His green eyes dark and downright scary.

"Will! Let him go, come on. Stop fucking around, you didn't have to slam him into a wall," you say, but your shaky voice falls on deaf ears as Will doesn't move. Your hands grasp at his arm and try to yank him away from Steven, but he's stronger and taller than you and doesn't budge, he just keeps his eyes focused on Steven.

"Nothing!" He squeaks out. Even in the dark, his kiss bruised lips and flushed red face is obvious.

"'Nothing?' That's why you were ten seconds away from fucking Y/N?" Will asks.

"William stop it! You're scaring me! Leave him alone!" You push him again and this time, he relents. Will paces and runs his hand through his red locks while you rush to make sure Steven is ok.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Steven mutters and presses a kiss to your brow to comfort you, sending you a smile when he pulls away. He keeps his hands on your arms and rubs circles with his thumbs.

"How long has this been going on?" Will asks, crossing his arms as he finally stops his pacing.

"Six months..." Steven says nervously. William scoffs and shakes his head. "But it isn't just fucking around! I love them, Ax. Really."

You smile bashfully, biting your lip to try and contain it. You knew you felt strongly for Steven and that he returned the feelings, but you haven't outright said you loved each other— until know of course.

Will stays silent for a few beats, staring contemplative at Steven. He finally sighs, bring a hand up to rub his temples like he has a building headache.

"Yeah? And you love him, Y/N?" He asks. You nod, reaching out to grab Steven's hand. Steven lets a grin creep on to his face. "Then I guess I can't stop you. But if you ever break their heart, I'll fucking gut you, Adler."

If Will makes Steven nervous, he doesn't show it. He gives him a salute with his puppy dog like smile before sticking out his pinky.

"I promise I'll never hurt Y/N purposely, ever." Will rolls his eyes, the irony makes him nearly groan aloud. He sucks it up anyway when he sees your hopeful expression, hooking his pinky onto Steven's.

"Don't make me regret this, Steven," Will grumbles before leaving and walking back into the crowded club. Steven lets out an exhilarated laugh and kisses you, hard.

"Told you he wouldn't kill me!" Steven exclaims, making you laugh out of surprise.

"And we don't have to sneak around anymore!" Steven kisses you again, and again and again until you're breathless.

"I'm so in love with you," he mumbles between his attack on your lips. You smile, tangling your hands in his aqua-net filled hair.

"As I am with you."

[sarahtoninxox]

Borderline Personality Disorder: My Own Worst Enemy

It's as if you're emotionally naked. Having the emotional maturity of a child who, as a result of childhood adversities, never learnt how to manage emotions effectively. As a result, everything runs through a filter designed to shield your delicate psyche from perceived attacks. This causes extreme, long-lasting feelings of rage, misery, discomfort, alienation, abandonment, self-loathing, and an endless mess of tangled, extreme emotions. Every single day. This can lead to lash outs, rumination, verbal and physical aggression, and long-term resentment of perceived or (even worse) genuine insults or hostility. We can misinterpret situations, making us seem hypersensitive or “too” emotional, caring “too” much. External influences and people can easily dictate our feelings, and we can react recklessly and impulsively.

We are sometimes seen as not compassionate and selfish because we are so in tune with our emotions and so strongly influenced by them. This may be accurate, but it's primarily because our self - image (which is already fragile) appears to be under constant assault from an onslaught of stimulation, confusing and contradictory feelings and emotions, and complex and challenging mood fluctuations. In reality, we can empathise and care profoundly for others as a byproduct of this, to the degree at which we can nearly "feel" somebody else's suffering, happiness, or distress. It thus provides us a natural affinity for "reading" others, which may be equally beneficial and detrimental. When one can put it to good use and benefit oneself as well as others, that's when it's useful. The fucking terrible part is whenever you can "sense" when someone is being overtly hostile, disingenuous, or insincere, or "read" into one's nonverbal cues or demeanor, and it verifies and supports our preconceptions.

Almost anything, including people, locations, decisions, passions, and occupations, can be idolized and discounted. Most of us are simply just attempting to find our place in the universe, and we'll say and do anything to gain acceptance. It’s not always conscious; it simply becomes instinctive to us over time. We can cherish something one moment and despise it the second, thanks to our emotional dysregulation. Everything really hinges on how much mental anguish or enjoyment each circumstance causes us, and how far we’ve progressed in our emotional healing.

It's difficult for us to regulate all of this and identify "the grey region" that’s between the black and white in certain situations. Even on ourselves, we can split black and white. We are, at the end of the day, our harshest critics. Splitting can also cause persistent pain, impulsiveness, and fuel our insecure, continually shifting self image.

Factor in intense fears of abandonment, betrayal, and mental anguish. Experiencing this broad range of fluctuating, extreme emotional states on a daily basis will cause many of us to feel worthless and mentally blank.

There is often a sense of incompleteness—a void of sorts, irrespective of what the fuck is happening in life or who's around. Being alone and forced to face ourselves can be, and is, excruciatingly uncomfortable, even unbearable. Particularly because we don't understand how to manage our emotions sans the guidance of extrinsic validation and support. All of the above inevitably leads to a disorganized, unstable psyche that struggles to maintain consistency on multiple levels and tries to push others away due in part to vulnerability, worthlessness or a sense of impending abandonment and despair. Splitting, lack of identity, anxieties, sadness and self-loathing all combine to form a person who’s very confused, mentally lost, and often suicidal. When you add in actual (not simply perceived) everyday challenges and hardships, it can become that much more difficult to stay above water.

[igotanna]

Is this a bet??

Summary: Jinyoung takes your words seriously. And he loves proving his point. You should think twice before teasing him again.

Warnings: smut, sort of orgasm denial

Genre: fanfiction, smut

Pairing: reader x park jinyoung

Rating: 18+

A/N: pic is mine

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

"Please tell me you didn't just eat that popcorn that fell into your bra..." Jinyoung sighed as he heard you munch again after a long time. He sat in his favorite armchair and didn't bother to look at you. The movie was more interesting.

"Shut up I can’t hear it now."

One would say that after three years of dating and living together, you two would stop bickering. But that was the dynamics of your relationship, and you still kinda enjoyed it this way. But sometimes he got on your nerves with his lecturing.

The movie ended and Jinyoung got up to stretch and to put the dirty dishes in the sink.

"Y'know, it was really goo-"

"It was bullshit." you cut him off.

You scrolled through your phone and didn't really pay attention to him when he came back to look at you with his 'what did you just say?' face.

"Come again?"

"I said it was bullshit. It was absolutely unrealistic during the sex scenes," you explained and sighed like him.

He frowned and sat down, now actually interested to hear your thoughts "What do you mean?"

"I mean c'mon! One could never make woman cum without touching her clit - when they were together for such a short time! You couldn't do that and we’ve known each other for quite some time now!"

You were so serious, and didn't really see the shadow of deep shock that flew over his face. He blinked a few times in disbelief. "Do you really think that?"

Putting the phone down you looked at him "Yes, it's really hard - maybe even physically impossible for a woman to cum completely without touching her clit. It's the most ac-"

"Wait," he stopped you, picking up his words and thinking your statement through "is this a bet?" His eyes pinned at your face.

You had to laugh - this was more of a "scientific" discussion for you and here he was dirty minded as usual thinking you're teasing him.

"I'm just saying,-"

"Is this a bet?" he repeated, voice lower. Now it was you blinking quickly to adjust. When he said it out loud you were even more sure - it is impossible.

"What would be the prize for the winner?" you narrowed eyes suspiciously. You knew he was able to pull your leg all the time.

"Anything." he said deadly serious.

"Anything?"

"Anything. Completely free options. If I don't make you cum without touching your clit you can make me do anything you want. One time. Make me go up on stage and do stand-up comedy, make me say something stupid in front of your mother. Whatever you say."

"And if you do make me cum?"

His expression darkened, a low-key sadistic smile flitting across his face. "Anything as well."

You laughed again, shaking your head "This is too.. too much you. I don't trust you."

"What? Whyy?" he looked at you like a surprised puppy with his big round eyes.

"Because!" you exclaimed and got up, almost shoving him off the couch. He followed you with his eyes and regained confident expression. He already knew you're in.

"Because games like these never end up in my favour!"

"Well, if it won’t end up in your favour now, I don't know when it will!" he laughed and left to take a shower. Jinyoung was well aware to give you some space to consider his proposal after presenting you a new idea or assumption.

While he was showering, you had a moment to consider your options - either way you were going to have some solid sex. And that was all you needed to head to the bathroom and lean on the shower door.

"Alright."

Jinyoung laughed and looked to where he heard your voice "So is this official?"

"Yes." you sighed, almost like he pushed you into doing it. Which he did. In his own way. "It is a bet. If you won't make me cum without touching my clit-"

"But I can be inside." he demanded

"Of course, that's not the point. Apart from touching my clit you can do whateve-"

"Careful with your words," he smirked.

"You can do almost whatever might help you make me cum." you finished strongly.

The water stopped. A muscular torso appeared next to your face and with it Jinyoung's fresh scent combined with the soap.

He looked at you, satisfaction written all over his face and dried his hair like nothing happened. Continuing to your bedroom he put the towel down and raised his voice as if he was looking for you "Are you coming?"

You walked to the room like if you were about to do a job interview, even your stomach was slightly squirming with excitement and partly with nervousness.

Jinyoung was busy adjusting the light and pulling down the curtains.

"So," his voice was low and muted, intimidating.

"I don't know what game are you playing...you simply cannot win this." you laughed and started to unbutton your shirt.

"Ah-," he stopped you before pointing at your hands – you were obviously stealing his job "Don't." his eyes found yours and he tilted his head a bit "But do repeat what you just said. C'mon."

You laughed as he got near you and slowly touched your arm with index finger sending a shiver down your spine "I said you won't make me cum."

"That's it." he whispered to himself.

You felt his body behind you, heard his breath, your hair swinging in its rhythm. By stopping you from undressing yourself he was showing you who’s in charge. You wanted to stay strong, not willing to submit to his methods you knew all too well. Something in Jinyoung’s demeanour changed, he’s going to outperform himself today you were sure of it. He's going to come up with something new, trying out stuff he always wanted to but never did. And most importantly - he’s going to take advantage of this.

His fingers moved inch by inch up to meet the inner elbow and to the hips.

"Say it again." he muttered through gritted teeth, daring you. As if searching for reasons to punish you. His warm hand roughly pushed the shirt fabric aside, forcing its way between the buttons by stealth.

"I said you can't make me cum." you said clearly, but it was undermined by the breathless gasp that escaped your mouth unwillingly. At that very moment, his hand undid the buttons and your shirt landed next to your ankles like snake's skin.

Despite the intensity he barely touched you yet.

His arm rested on your shoulder and with tips of his fingers he drew over your chest up to the collar bone. His face was so close to your ear you heard every breath and even movements of his tongue in his mouth.

The goosebumps raised across your skin excited him so much, but he kept his head clear. He knew exactly what to focus on. Having a mental list of your erogenous zones he needed to use, and saving few new ones to try out. He dug his face in your hair and kissed you below your ear. Your body reacted faster than you wanted. You crumbled into him as if he pushed some button, your knees bending a bit. But he didn't want it to be this fast.

He bit your earlobe in warning.

Surprised by his nip, your hand went up for revenge but his was quicker, smacking yours away like annoying insect.

Sliding his palms down to your panties he slowly pulled down. You felt a sudden gust of coldness as he kneeled down and your back were left unprotected. His heart started to beat faster as your panties revealed your bum. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing his lips on your left butt cheek. It took you by surprise – he never was this gentle. Still only with the tips of his fingers on your sides, he got up. Parting your hair and putting them on one side he uncovered his most favorite part of your body – the nape of your neck.

He pushed you to the bed.

Enough of warming up.

"However bad it's going to be..." his voice was dark, wild and almost aggressive because of the long silence "Rule is- you can't touch your clit either." he said locking eyes with you.

"It's either me making you cum," he continued and leaned on his elbows above you, only inches above your face, "or nothing." you opened your mouth to kiss back, but he pulled away. Pressing lips on your neck and going down, between your breasts, your belly.

You felt yourself getting wett, heat pooling in anticipation.

The thing is - it was usually never this slow - Jinyoung was more of a rough, fierce sex type. He didn't need any time to prep and wasn't really a fan of foreplay. Lube was always there to fix everything.

But now- he was careful, sensual, paying attention to details - dancing with his fingers on the inner side of your knee. You almost forgot this place was so sensitive. He harmonized the feeling with his lips on your thigh, temptingly close to the clit.

Closing your eyes you didn't watch what he's doing - just bathed yourself in the feelings.

He was already almost rock hard, given the sight of you closing your eyes with pleasure. He had to focus on the edge of his limits. It was so tempting to imprison you in his arms, to thrust into you, deeply and fully.

But a bet is a bet, and he had his plan.

You felt like you were ready for him, so much so you unknowingly spread apart more. His hand moved your leg up to rest on his hips, facing you again. Still not opening your eyes, you turned your head a bit to make him space for more neck kisses.

As his hands pulled yours up above your head, his fingers intertwined with yours.

Jinyoung left the best for last – he finally pressed his body fully on you, and inch by inch dived in you. You heard him smirk as he found it amusing how easily he could slide in as you were already so wet and open for him.

He moved slowly. Not just because he knew it’s stimulating, but because he focused on your nipples. He knew you were sensitive, and it helped him on many occasions to make you cum. Kissing, licking and carefully biting them he took you on the edge of pain and pleasure. Your fingers found his hair and you wanted to pull it, to participate somehow. But he was the leader here and immediately put your hands back in place – above your head.

It was all so good.

His breath so close to your neck, the heat from his body. The precision he moved with, how much attention he paid to you. How he held your jaw like he needed it to breathe.

But something was missing, the tension just kept cumulating and piling up, peak nowhere in near sight. You could even feel yourself stretching your arm up, as if to grab the orgasm that was just inches away.

But apparently your other hand headed down again because Jinyoung smacked it angrily "Don't even try it." thrusting in over and over.

"Fuck the bet, I want-"

"Rules!" he hissed as his movements quickened. Placing hand on the concave of your neck and shoulders, he squeezed a bit as a warning.

You bit your lip in frustration and pleasure. He bend down and kissed your jaw, following with his mouth parting yours, being dominant even now. Leaving you only to wait for his next move. Pulse racing, he repeatedly broke the kiss to look at you, to burn this exact picture of you into his mind.

Feeling him inside, holding your hand up, your breasts on his chest... everything felt like a flash of a fire, but the flame didn't appear. You almost fell his heart beating in your own veins.

He was close, so close.

Face next to yours, his lips found the spot below your ear again, biting the earlobe.

Breathing faster you knew it was coming.

Was he right? Can he do that? C'mon just a bit more- it's so close.

But he suddenly stopped moving, head buried in your hair heavily breathing. You tried to keep up with the wave of pleasure that was inside of you, waiting to be released, you tried so hard to slide it on your own. But it was gone. He was gone, leaving you in the water searching for a way out.

As he rolled down from you letting you alone with the helplessness and frustration he propped on one hand and looked at you "You were right." he caught his breath and put away lock of hair from your neck.

"You did it on purpose! You knew I was close!" you cried out loudly, hands rubbing your face.

"Yes." he admitted, glad you revealed the truth.

Looking directly at you like a teacher wanting his answer he asked "Lesson?"

After the minute of silence you gave to spite him, you felt a quick, light smack on your thigh. "Never. Try me out again."

[yououui]

"Why is it so damn difficult for you to believe you're worthy of love?" but it's Kurogane saying it to Fai because we all know who the one that needs therapy is in that duo lol

They are given the luxury of time in Clow following the battle. A few days to rest and recover, to look back on what has transpired and consider what should be done moving forward. Syaoran spends almost every moment with Sakura, as is to be expected. Kurogane finds his time filled with Fai at his side; each morning, a knock at his door marks the start of a new day as the mage comes to fetch him. They take their meals together, wander the town and the castle together, visit the medics for checks and fresh bandages together. At the end of each night, they share some of Clow’s sweet wine and then part ways for their own beds.

Mokona usually hops between the two pairs depending on how she’s feeling that day, but she usually sleeps curled against Sakura’s neck.

They spend this evening on the balcony of Kurogane’s room. Kurogane’s weight is leaning against the thick stone safety railing and Fai is sat precariously atop said railing. Kurogane would have barked at him to get down, but he knew that Fai would easily be able to save himself if he happened to fall.

“Syaoran is going to have to leave soon,” Fai murmurs, eyes watching a lone, drifting cloud. “Time is ticking.”

“Hn.” Kurogane grunts in response as he takes a drink. “And what’re you gonna do?”

“I was thinking I’d join Syaoran-kun, if he’ll take me,” Fai responded. “It would break my heart if he had to do this on his own. And it’s not like I have anywhere else to go!”

Fai laughs as if the depressing statement is a joke. He’s tense, Kurogane notices, the topic of conversation painting a plastic smile on his face. Kurogane wants to tell him to knock it off. The sight of it makes something crawl under his skin.

“And Kuro-sama?” Fai asks, his gaze turning to the ninja. “You’ll return to Nihon, right? Tomoyo-chan must be thrilled you’re finally returning.”

Kurogane clears his throat before responding, “No, actually. I contacted her last night. I’m gonna join the kid, too.”

Fai’s rehearsed smile falls for a brief moment as he’s struck with surprise instead. His eyes shine impressively even under the dark sky until he shuts them with a laugh. “I would have thought Kuro-sama would run home as soon as he could, but Syaoran-kun will be so happy!”

Kurogane doesn’t ask the question lingering on his tongue—and Fai? How does he feel about it?

Kurogane clears his throat again—there’s nothing stuck in it but it’s tight for some reason as he continues on the topic. “It’s not like it’ll last forever. I’ll go back to Nihon when we get those two idiots back and I can give them a proper punishment for worrying us.” Fai’s smile softens as Kurogane speaks, the first vestiges of something real as he chuckles quietly to himself. Kurogane continues, “And… y’know if you wanna settle down somewhere when it’s all over… you can always come back to Nihon with me.”

“...Eh?” The surprised look is back on the mage’s face, his smile frozen from the pure shock of the question. He laughs nervously for a moment and looks away from Kurogane as he processes the question. “To Nihon? D-Did Tomoyo-chan say she has a job for me?”

Kurogane’s brows furrow with a frown. “No. I mean, I dunno. There might be a job you can do, but it’s not like you’d need one. Tomoyo and the Empress wouldn’t kick you out, anyway, and besides. I can work enough to cover you.”

“M-My, is there something in the wine?” Fai is laughing again, forced and awkward like he doesn’t know what else to do or say. “You’re making yourself sound like an old-fashioned father—I didn’t know Kuro-sama could make such jokes!”

“I’m not joking, you idiot,” Kurogane tells him, frustration rising hot in his blood at Fai’s adamant refusal to accept what Kurogane is telling him. “What’s so hard to believe about taking care of someone you love?”

There’s a pause, a moment when even the air around them seems to still along with Fai’s breath. “...Love?” It’s a quiet murmur, more to himself than anything, spoken like a child hearing an unknown word for the first time.

Kurogane’s frustration dissipates in an instant, his shoulders falling with a sigh. “Yes, you idiot. Love.” He should have known better than to assume Fai’s strongly built defenses would fall so quickly, even if the mage was trying. Kurogane has been honest with his feelings for such a long time now, he didn’t think there was a way Fai couldn’t see it. But if Fai, in his self-taught method of avoidance, refused to see it, there was no other choice than to say it outright.

Fai silently turned and pushed himself off the balcony railing to fall silently to his feet. He cradled his glass of wine close to his chest, like it could act as a shield somehow. “K-Kuro-sama shouldn’t tease me so much.”

The forced happy tone from before has disappeared. Now, he sounds properly hurt, his voice trembling as if on the edge of tears. He begins to leave and Kurogane catches him by the arm to stop him.

“Oi, what the hell have I done recently to make you think I’m lying?” He asks Fai. “You think chopping off my own arm was my way of teasing you?”

Fai’s eyes—two again, and Kurogane didn’t know how much he loved the color blue until that moment—widen as guilt sweeps over him. “I-I didn’t—” He lowers his head as if in shame. “I didn’t… mean it like that…”

Because of course Fai had to know, no matter how much his toxic thoughts tried to tell him otherwise, that Kurogane at least cared for him. No person would willingly give up their own blood and tie them together for life, nor cut through their own flesh and bone without another thought without at least some bit of concern and attachment. And Fai would always feel guilty for those decisions, even if Kurogane was adamant that they were his choice and he would make them again.

“After everything,” Kurogane releases Fai’s arm to tap his knuckle against the underside of Fai’s chin, gently getting him to lift his head. “Why is it still so damn difficult for you to believe you’re worthy of love?” Kurogane asks, voice so soft and mushy it surprises even himself. He can’t help it though, nor can he bring himself to care. Not now. Not with Fai.

Something teeters over the edge within Fai and his eyes immediately fill with tears. Although Kurogane never wants to see the way his lips tremble before parting with a much needed sob, he will always prefer the open honesty over the fake smile. Kurogane wraps his one arm around Fai and lets the mage have his much needed cry, slender fingers grasping desperately at the front of Kurogane’s shirt as tears stain the fabric.

“Come back to Nihon with me, mage,” Kurogane says, whispers into Fai’s hair like a secret kiss. “When it’s all over, come with me.”

Fai is rendered speechless for a long while, his throat tight and words interrupted with gasping, cathartic sobs that are sometimes mixed with unabashed, joyous laughter. He nods in immediate agreement. Kurogane only holds him closer.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

What Am I? | Kol Mikaelson

Hello my lovelies! Am I back doing my thing where I write for three days straight and then go missing for three weeks? Probably! But I’m not one to complain so I’m going to ride out this streak of inspiration for as long as I can! I’m not sure if any of you had the joy to read any of the chaos between @activist-af and I but if you did than you know exactly how I feel about Kol. Perhaps this can be my ode to him. Until next time, all my love <3

Description: Kol finally breaks from all the years of feeling like the bad guy

Pairing: Female!Reader x Kol Mikaelson

Warnings: It’s angsty at the beginning but it’s fine

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: Angst, Fluff

P.S. I strongly recommend listening to Paralyzed by NF while you read this because I had it on a loop the whole time and it really sets the mood

(Pics not mine but mood board is :) )

“Kol, stop!” your lungs are burning, your legs numb from trying to keep up with him.

He storms across the compound, not quite at full speed but fast enough to ensure you have to run to keep up with him. His shoulders are tense, his eyes locked in front of him. You can feel the anger rolling off of him in thick, hot waves. You’re not a vampire by any means but you don’t need super senses to understand how dangerous he is at this moment. Whatever, you don’t care. He’s not going to ignore you, you won’t let him.

“Fuck, Kol!” you grab his arm, tugging with all your strength, “god damnit, stop walking! Talk to me!”

He yanks his arm forward but you don’t let go. Instead your body swings forward with his movements, bringing you closer to him than you’ve been able to get all day. You shake your head. All week would be more accurate. Your best friend has been avoiding you all damn week and you have no idea why. You’re done waiting for him to tell you. If you have to rip away every layer of him to get to the bottom of this, you will.

“Let go of me, y/n,” he continues to stare forward, his jaw tight, “I don’t have time for this.”

You scoff, trying to ignore the way your chest stings, “no time for what, Kol? Me? What on earth is going on?”

He just clenches his jaw tighter, looking to the side. This time your chest feels like it’s being cracked open. You let go of his hand, taking a few steps away from him. You don’t know what the fuck has gotten into him but you don’t like it, not one bit. This isn’t your Kol. Your Kol is sweet. This is a monster. You haven’t ever dared to think of him as such but today, you suppose, his true colors are showing. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

The silence after your words is deafening but it doesn’t last long, seconds at the most. It’s like a dam breaks in Kol. No, that’s not strong enough. It’s like the tectonic plates inside him shift and it sends a tsunami storming to the surface. He whirls around, a myriad of emotions swirling through his eyes. He takes a step towards you, a darkness you’ve never seen hanging over his features. You take a step back, you're not completely stupid. You have no misconceptions about what’s happening. You’re the beach in this situation, and you’re about to get destroyed. 

“You really want to know who I am?” He takes another step towards you, a tiger on the prowl. 

You raise your chin but still step further away from him. He’s never hurt you before. Hell, he’s never even yelled at you. But today there’s something in his eyes, something dangerous, and you’re only a human. You grit your teeth, feeling much weaker than the front you’re putting on. 

“I know who you are and this isn’t it!” you spit the words at him, hoping they’ll break through the storm that’s clouding his features.

He laughs but it’s dry; humorless. Your heart zaps again. He’s still moving towards you and you’re still moving away from him.  This game of cat and mouse is slowly becoming lethal.

“No, darling, you don’t,” despite the circumstances you can’t stop the way your body sings at his term of endearment, “you don’t know a damn thing about me.”

You take another step back and freeze, your back colliding with the wall. Crap. You hold your arms out towards him but he doesn’t stop, closing the space between you and him even when your hands land on his chest. You can feel the heat rolling off of him through the shirt he’s wearing. He’s like a furnace, lulling you despite the clear threat he poses. You dig your nails into his chest, pushing back with as much fire as you can muster.

“Kol, please, you know that’s not true,” you back your head against the wall, biting your lip at the slight pain, “just talk to me. Please. You’re scaring me.”

You’ve never had to say those words before and you hate them but not as much as you hate the way Kol flinches, like he’s taken a bullet, and backs away from you. He drags a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes squeezed shut. Your breath hitches, your blood running cold. When he opens his eyes they’re glassy. If your chest felt like it was being ripped open before, now it feels like someone reached inside the crack and tore out your heart. 

“I-,” Kol stares into your eyes for a moment before turning away from you, “you need to go. Now. Don’t come back.”

You can’t breathe, you're just stuck, glued to the wall while all the oxygen is sucked from the room. You’re helpless, watching him walk away. Your heart is in his hands but you can’t get it back. You can’t move. You don’t want it back anyway. It means nothing without him. You slide down the wall, your eyes glued to his retreating figure. 

No. You furrow your eyebrows. No, he doesn’t get to walk away from you, not after this long. Who does he think he is? You push yourself up, a wave of red hot something flooding your entire being. It laces your blood with fire, one you’re pretty sure can only be quelled by the man walking away from you. You don’t think, you just go. 

You clear the space between the two of you in seconds, your hands once more wrapping around his arm, “No, you don’t get to walk away like that. You don’t get to leave me, Kol Mikaelson! I won’t let you!” 

He freezes, his body going tense. He doesn’t try and yank his arm out of your grasp again. You stare at him, refusing to look away, afraid that if you do he’ll disappear. He sucks in a breath, swallowing harshly. You watch his adam's apple bob and fight the agonoy eating at your core. Come on Kol, turn around. 

As if hearing your thoughts he spins around, his arm breaking from your grasp. You don’t have time to feel anything from it, though, before he grabs your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. When you do you gasp, a chill running down your spine. His eyes are pitch black, nothing near their usual honey shade, and the skin around them is a sickly purple, dark blue veins running towards his cheeks. 

He sucks in another harsh breath, his nostrils flaring and his chest brushing yours, “do you honestly think that I could ever leave you?” he laughs bitterly, his eyes flitting over your face, “I couldn’t leave you if I tried. But I need to. Don’t you fucking get it? I’m a monster!”

This time it’s you who flinches. You wrap your hands around his arm, clinging to him as his words pour over you. You can’t breathe again but this time it’s a little different. It’s less agony and more breathlessness. You tighten your fingers, trying with everything you have to anchor yourself to him. 

“No you’re not,” you grit your teeth, meeting his harsh stare head on, “you’re not a monster, Kol! You’re so many things but you’re not a monster. You can’t be.”

His grip on your jaw lessens, his shoulders sagging. The black in his eyes begins fading, the veins receding and leaving nothing but his usual dark circles. Your heart clenches at the sight. He clearly hasn’t been sleeping. 

“Yes I am,” he mutters, his voice rough, “all I do is hurt people. Fuck, I’m hurting you right now!” 

You shake your head, trying to push back the flood of tears that suddenly blurs your vision, “No, Kol, you’re not,” your voice is thick, the lump in your throat a mountain, “you could never hurt me. Not in the way you’re thinking. You only hurt me by leaving me. Please, don’t leave me.” 

His hand fully loosens as he slumps to the floor, your words the final push to his crumbling will. He buries his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking. He’s crying. You are too, your heart in pieces at the sight of your best friend. The man you love. The best thing you’ve ever had now reduced to his knees. Pain explodes in your chest and your palms sting, an icy burn running up your arms and hitting your heart dead on. 

He lifts his head, revealing bloodshot eyes laced through with hell itself, “I don’t even know who I am anymore. I can’t separate anything in my head. The anger and the hurt, all of it! I can’t remember where I stop and everyone else starts. Who the fuck am I?” His voice cracks and, with it, your heart, “I’m just this fuck up to everyone but I haven’t even had the chance fuck up!” 

Your chest aches desperately for the man at your feet. You know what he’s talking about. A thousand years of life and yet only awake for a fraction of it. That would make any reasonable being crumble and it would take significantly less than a thousand years for most. You don’t know how the hell he does it. You haven’t died once. You’re only supposed to die once. He’s died a hundred times. Oh, Kol. You drop to your knees and pull him against you, crushing him to your chest to the best of your abilities.

“You don’t have to know who you are. I know who you are, Kol, and I’ve always known. You’re the strongest person I know. You’re my best friend. You’ve fought off death, and hunger, and your family. You don’t have to fight me off too!” you run your hands through his hair, pulling his face to meet yours, “you can rest now. You’re mine, Kol Mikaelson, that’s all you need to know.”

It’s surreal, to say the least, telling a vampire who he is. He should know better than anyone. After all, he’s supposed to have had a thousand years to figure out. Your chest squeezes painfully when you think of the years that were stolen from him. You run your fingers over his cheek, your thumb swiping some stray tears. 

He leans his face into your hand and you sag against him, cool relief fighting the fire in your veins. It’s the sweetest feeling you’ve ever experienced. Kol wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him. Even when kneeling he towers over you, curling around you. You can’t stop the sobs from coming and you don’t want to, gripping his shirt painfully. A week's worth of fear and worry pours out of you and he takes it like the rock he is. Maybe you’re the tsunami and he’s the beach after all.

He slips a hand into your hair, tugging gently to make you look at him, “I’m yours?”

His eyes are red rimmed and full of something that makes you ache. His lips swollen and red. His hair, mussed from your hands and his, sticks up at all angles. It doesn’t make him look bad, though. No, it makes him look like a fallen angel. His skin catches the light, a golden hue painting his features, pooling in the circles under his eyes. Your hands tighten on his button down, if that’s possible, and you swallow hard. He’s yours and you aren’t letting him go, not for the next thousand years. 

“Yes,” you nod your head hard, trying to drill into him how , “yes, you are. All mine. Just like me to you. I’m all yours Kol. Every part of me.”

His eyes darken again and the ache intensifies, curling around each nerve in your body and setting everything on fire. He’s no longer an angel. Who are you kidding, he was never one in the first place. He’s always been your demon, the one who crawled straight from hell to be with you. Looking into his eyes, you bite your lip, power surging through your veins. He survived a thousand years only to end up in your arms. His chest rumbles against yours, his hands finding your hips and hauling you into his lap. 

He takes your face in his hand again, a little rougher than before but you don’t care, “all mine. Always mine, do you hear me? I’m not just some short term fling. You’re mine until the end.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, your stomach a ball of white hot need. It’s final, there’s no allusions now, not that there ever was any. You love him. With every fibre of your being you love Kol Mikaelson.

You move your hands to his face, bringing his face down to yours, “Until the end, Kol.”

You smash your lips against his as soon as the words pass your lips, your fingers dragging through his hair. It’s like silk under your fingers and you can’t resist pulling at it. He moans into your mouth, the sexiest sound you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing, and squeezes your hip with his hand, bolts of lightning zapping straight to your core. You pull his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard. He meets each nip with one of his own, running his tongue over your bottom lip. His mouth is like magic, spreading a warmth through each of your bones, one that melds with the inferno raging through your being.

“Darling,” he moans into your mouth again, his arms wrapping around your waist, “fuck, I need you.”

You tie your arms around his neck and cross your ankles around his hips, pressing yourself as close to him as you can get. You can feel the hard plains of his stomach against yours, the heat from his chest seeping against your blazing skin. You crash your lips against his harder, his fingers digging into your hips and pulling incoherent muses from your mouth. You can’t get enough of him, he’s like water. Like oxygen. Without him you would most certainly die. 

 “Then take me, Kol, I’m yours. Please.” 

His answer is a growl, one that sends more of the endless heat pooling in your core. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now. You can smell you. He must be fucking bathing in how much your want him. How much you need him. You run your fingers down his back, clawing at his shirt. He stands suddenly, jostling you against him deliciously. Before you can blink you’re in his bedroom, bouncing against his deep blue comforter. His room smells like him, like nutmeg and cloves, and it hits you hard, intoxicating you with everything Kol. 

He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it quickly to the side before settling over you. You run your fingers up his back, admiring the way his muscles tense under your fingers before pulling him against you. You wrap your legs around his hips, rolling against him hungrily. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his heaving chest. His nose brushes your cheek and you sigh, his lips finding your ear. 

When he speaks his words whisper against your skin, sending toe curling shivers down your spine, “I love you. You hear me? I love you, darling. It’s you and me.”

You arch your chest against him, digging your fingers into his hair and pulling his lips to graze yours, “I love you, Kol Mikaelson. If you ever need to know who you are just remember this. No matter what else, you’re mine,” you press your mouth against his, using your tongue to punctuate the most important words you’ve ever said, “that’s all that matters. Mine.” 

“All fucking yours.”