#who refuses to share in any of their inner mind like. what is behind the thoughts of what they do what they do

[writer-sandbox]

i think this is the most funniest shit I’m writing, and the fact that BOTH the reader and me and the mc have No Idea what’s going in the other character’s mind with what they’re doing. i mean, okay. I have ideas. But I’m also in the same bout as in going, yeah. I have no idea Currently what they’re doing this<3 watching the mc going ????? And ?????????? IS SO MUCJ FUN.

[fallingyams]

sherliam soulmate AU

(originally posted to my twitter as an idea ramble, now expanded into an actual snippet, I guess)

A universe wherein the initials of your soulmate are written across your wrist. Not everyone has a soulmate - some are born with empty wrists. Others simply choose to ignore them, especially in genteel circles where marriages were often determined by wealth and connections, rather than love.

---

For the longest time, William had paid no heed to the initials that branded his wrist. He refused to accept the power imbalances of society. He refused to accept Louis’ illness. He refused to accept this broken world as it was.

Rejecting the soulmate that fate had decided for him was simply another item on the list. 

A small part of him had once adored the idea of having a soulmate, someone out there being a perfect match for him. Growing up on the streets and hopping from orphanage to orphanage, however, had left him disillusioned early on. What if his soulmate turned out to be a corrupt noble? Someone as strong willed as he was could never be asked to give up his morals for something as flimsy as love.

Besides, getting attached would only lead to future hurt when he engulfed this society in the flames of justice and retribution.

Surely nobody would want the devil for their soulmate.

---

Of course, everything changes when he meets Sherlock Holmes aboard the Noahtic. For the first time, William finds himself stunned and thrilled to face an adversary who teeters just a bit too close to discovering the truth behind Enders.

A rather rough-mannered man who was able to spot his love for Mathematics a mile away. A competent detective who sees straight to the heart of matters and suspects that more is at play than a mere murder borne from a moment’s passion.

William’s wrist itches and he finds himself subconsciously tracing fingers over the S.H. hidden under the fabric of his sleeve more than once.

He takes a gamble and reveals his name to the other, at the end of the whole ordeal on the Noahtic, but there is no recognition in Sherlock’s eyes.

It is one of two possibilities, then.

The first being that William is simply mistaken, and Sherlock Holmes sharing the same initials as his soulmate is pure happenstance.

The second possibility, which William strongly suspects, is that Sherlock has his birth initials, instead of this identity that he’s assumed. Without any way of confirming this, however, William decides the matter not worth looking into.

It’s for the better that Sherlock doesn’t find out, anyway.

---

William deliberates long and hard over this, but decides to be selfish this one last time and encloses the two birth certificates in the envelope along with his letter to the detective. 

His inner turmoil may be all for naught if Sherlock decides to burn the envelope in its entirety, but a small voice that he’s never been able to quash desires for him to be seen this once.

He doesn’t want to be a god, nor does he want to be the devil. He’s been William James Moriarty for as long as the plan has needed him to be.

But just this once... 

He’d like for his soulmate to see him for who he is.

A simple man with strong convictions. A mathematician who loves his field and molding young minds who will be the future of this country. Someone who runs late for lectures and makes bawdy jokes with students and would love for nothing more than a peaceful afternoon with a cup of tea.

He’s already at death’s door.

He’s ready to hand the invitation to his executioner.

---

It doesn’t take more than a brief glimpse at the birth certificate for Sherlock to make the connection with the initials on his wrist.

He takes off cursing and swearing at the sheer stupidity of his soulmate who is throwing himself headlong at death and prays that he’s not too late to save him.

Not very much later, he gets his confirmation when he reaches out to grab Liam as he falls, his sleeve riding up to reveal the S.H. printed across his wrist in his own unintelligible scrawl.

Sherlock yells and pleads and screams himself hoarse, begging Liam to reconsider the path he’s chosen.

He’s finally found his other half - someone who matches him on an intellectual level, who challenges him and creates interesting puzzles. Someone who beats him at his own game and teases him right back with that flippant smile - like hell he’s about to give the other man up.

---

William smiles as Sherlock traces the initials on his wrist even as he sinks his grip further into William’s arm.

The pressure hurts, of course, but it’s pushed to the back of his mind as his thoughts cloud over and his heart is briefly so, so full at the other’s acceptance of him.

It’s nice, imagining a future with Sherlock. A soulmate who understands the deepest parts of him, has seen his sins and transgressions and decided to love him regardless.

Just this is enough for him.

William knows he can’t indulge his selfishness for much longer. The splintering bridge cannot possibly support the both of them.

He will not doom his beloved to death with him.

(He hopes that Sherlock can forgive him for condemning him to loneliness - perhaps knowing and losing a soulmate was the most cruel thing he could have done to the other)

“It’s my loss, Sherly.”

He lets himself fall.

He never expected that he’d find someone who would want him for a soulmate. Leave it to this man to defy all expectations.

---

He certainly never expected Sherlock to jump after him either.

Of course, his detective would never cease to surprise him, even in this.

“Let’s live on.”

[rreskk]

Can you please make another mommy kink trevor philips fic , I'm okay with you not taking requests, I just LOVE LOVE the way you write him needy and whiny is PERFECT , I keep rereading your fics

I have a special speciality for Trevor's mommy kink. I fucking love writing it. One of my favourite things to do LOL

Summary: Trevor likes to act up, you made him change his mind quickly though.

TW: -Smut

Word count: 2686

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

A man so rugged, scary, dangerous. Any normal person would look at him and see Satan spawning in those ugly black pupils. His lips were tattered with scars and unhealed cuts. His face, with every inch of exposed skin, were smothered with dirt and permanent marks from all the conflict he insists. He didn’t even have to try and look this rocky and jagged. Whenever he smiled – his natural, yellow smile – it looked down-right creepy. There was no innocence behind those raged eyes, none at all. This is what he presented, and it didn’t attract anyone.

But you.

You had him wrapped around your pinkie like a swan and her baby.

You knew him. He wasn’t all this “macho, eating flesh, sniffing meth, shooting innocent scums” guy. As time goes on, all he needed was a little ounce of love and affections for him to turn into this “I found this flower and it reminds me of you” man. He was a gentle man. He was gently aggressive.

Is that a thing? Yes. It is with Trevor.

Picture this: stroking your skin so rough that it feels like a slap. That’s him.

He was talented at changing how he touches and perceives you. He’d never want to hurt you, it was never something he ever considered. You were his favourite girl, his favourite woman. He wanted to impress you. It took long enough to see through his ugly exterior and he wants you to savour his lonely soul.

You completed him enough to heal this wound that had been made years and years before.

A woman.

Womanly love.

Maternal love.

Trevor has found home in your care and affections. You replaced that beast who tormented him. His mother, that bitch. He opened up more and more about her treatment and he thought he deserved all that abuse. Even if he refuses to believe the truth, you still gave him hope that there is a cure for his illness that stains his mind. You provided a comfortable, stable relationship (even if he wasn’t capable of keeping it stable himself).

Anyways… Enough of that. The wound is too deep to disfigure and it would take your whole life to understand him properly. So you just let him differ and express himself in ways you’d think was… Unusual. By unusual, it means that hardcore mommy kink he has. He was a switch at heart and some nights he felt so overwhelming alone, but horny. It was your job to love that poor little boy which was trapped in that hormonal, drug-addicted head.

It was one of those nights.

Tucked into your chest, he reminisced about the past few weeks he had shared with you. Trevor’s face was stuffed between your breasts, both of you naked. It wasn’t sexual, not yet, he just loved skin-to-skint contact. Whenever he wanted to cuddle, it had to be without clothes on. The friction and restriction of not being “close enough” made cuddling less enjoyable, so he had to be naked in order for it to calm him down.

His hands happily caressed your lower back. Them dirty nails would leave red lines from your shoulder blades to your ass. It was a repetitive move that it didn’t hurt nor sting anymore.

“Mmm…” He had paused his mid-ramble to breathe in the fumes of your breasts. It was a long inhale. You felt his breath linger against your sensitive skin, occasionally sending electric energy down your spine.

The night was still young. Your eyes peeled open when you felt his naked groin grind against your inner thighs. He was grunting. You looked down at your breasts (where he was hiding) and saw him obviously trying to subtly jack off to your thighs.  

“Trevor?”

He knew he was caught now and just whined. His thrusts had gotten more obvious since you’d catch him. His penis, fully erected, was diving in and out of your thighs that were pressed together like a real fleshlight. You refrained yourself from moaning due to his cock stroking the sensitive patch of your inner thigh.

“Trevor…” You repeated bashfully, “What are you… Doing?”

“I’m too horny.” He growled. He moved out of your breasts before inserting his full attention on the nipples. That long, tormenting tongue stroked the surface until he tried to suck as much of your breasts as he could. He sucked and sucked and sucked and sucked.

Your hands clenched onto his hair, cradling his head as he continued to suck your tits. You’d hear him mumble out small whimpers when you attempted to pull him away. He refused to move an inch.

“Trevor, baby – “

“Don’t stop me!” Cried Trevor after you had departed him from your swollen nipple and breast. He still had his penis stuffed between your thighs, the length twitching every second also.

“Take it slow, tiger.”

“Fuckin’… No! I want to suck your tits.”

“Easy – “

“[y/n], don’t play with me. I’m so horny, I want your tits…” He begged.  

“Trevor, take it easy. Don’t outrun yourself.”

“I can’t stop myself, mommy.” And it just came out.

That’s when you knew he was in that maternally deprived mood. You should of known the warning signs when it was there. So you fondled the back of his neck and calmed him down. He fell back into your embrace and made whiney noises against your collarbone.

“Tell me how good it feels.” You decided to ask as he was humping your thighs dry.

Trevor gurgled some distorted moans before his ability to speak had returned.

“So good… So good, it’s so hot…”

“Yeah? Are you going to cum yet?”

“I- I’m almost…” He took a sharp exhale, “Fuuuck…”

Then you praised him so more. Trevor had arched his back with your hand around his neck. He moaned your name, thrusting harder and faster that your poor thighs were growing rashes and bruises. It wasn’t long until his whole body went into spasms and that hard boner squirted cum all over your lower stomach, some on your bedsheets. He couldn’t help himself.

“I’m sorry, mommy!” Trevor wailed as his cock didn’t stop ejaculating semen everywhere.

“Shhh…”

“I made a mess, ma… I made a big mess.”

“I can see.”

“I’m sorry, I made a mess!”

You wiped away drool from his lip, “Enough,” You’d tell him, “Stop. Don’t apologise. Stop apologising for feeling good, baby.”

Trevor watched your thumb effortlessly wipe away his saliva. He wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. There was still so much tension in him that was struggling to come out. He’d give you glassy, sad eyes and call your name.

“[y/n].”

“Mhm?”

“I – “ He lets his finger drape across the breast he sucked earlier on, “I’m still horny. It hurts, mama…”

“It hurts?”

“Make me feel good, ma. I’m real horny.”

You sighed, “Okay, baby. Alright.”

The way his eyes lit up. He squeezed his hands together and gave you that iconic, Trevor grin. The feral in his face grew more strong and heavy.

“Gimme more…” He slowly slurred with lust, “I want more, ma.”

“Patience first.”

He cried, “More! More! I want more! I don’t want to wait.”

“Trev – “

But he was already pestering at your breasts again. That sloppy tongue was leaving trails of his drool everywhere. You gripped onto the mattress when he’d playfully bite your nipple and suck you all in. He was so fast. Trevor had completely crawled over your body, his weight pressing against your chest that was being abused by his nasty mouth.

“Trevor!” You gasped.

“Oh God, you have perfect tits…”

“Trevor… Stop – “

“I don’t wanna stop, mommy. I waited too long.” He snickered like a bratty school boy.

If he wants to act like a prick, he can be treated like one; your thoughts exactly. While he was rudely exploiting your breasts, you had reached for his sore cock and with one swift motion, you grabbed it and clenched your fists.

You wanted to replay the moment he jumped back and drastically moaned your name. He sobbed when you didn’t loosen your grip. His hips began jerking all over the place, trying to nudge you off.

“FUCK! AH, AH!”

His penis throbbed in your hands. This uncircumcised, small dick he calls “good enough” was going crazy. Despite Trevor’s painful cries, you knew he enjoyed it. No man would have his erection twitching like this.

“[y/n], fuckin’…” He was struggling to speak. Trevor was now on his all fours. He looked up at you with your hand violating his penis. He wanted to slap your hand away but he couldn’t.

“This is what naughty boys deserve.”

Because he deserved it, just like you said.

“But ma! – “

“But ma, but ma! No, nothing!” You played on his feelings a little more.

“No, don’t say that.”

Your grip tightened on his dick, making his words stutter pathetically.

“No what? Why should I listen to you when you don’t listen to me, hm?”

“Mommy… I’m sorry, [y/n], eh! Babe!”

“Don’t mommy me, Trevor. Your fetish makes you a very naughty boy.” Talking dirty was always a speciality when it’s with Trevor.

He sucked in his lips and stared at the way you used your tongue to speak.

“You like that, darling?” His cock twitched more as you spoke, “You like the way I talk to you?”

“Yes mommy…”

“Why’s that? Why do you like being spoken to like that?”

“Because… I- I deserve it.” Trevor whispered, his eyes barely open at how intense the pleasure was.

You squeezed his dick one last time before he hunched forward, burying his face in your neck and squirting (once again). He moaned intensely.

“Fuuuuuck! AH! OH, YEAH!” Cum soaked the bedsheets now. He couldn’t help but lie against you, his whole body weight in your arms. The orgasm must of taken a turn considering he began choking on tears.

“That feel so good, baby?” You purr.

“Oh, fuck… Ma, I – “ Trevor gulped, “I feel so much better. Ah… Fuck…”

“Now… Only good boys get another chance at feeling good again.”

His face dropped and he stared up at you with despair.

“What?”

“You heard me, sweetie.”

“No, no. But… Mama, c’mon… Babe? [y/n]? Sugar? I- I’ll fuckin’… I’ll do the shopping, I’ll do the gardening, please! Ma, please!”

“Don’t act like you deserve it, Trevor.” You’d grin.

He shook his head frantically. His hands gripping onto your waist, your stomach, your breasts. His breathing had grown rapid.

“I love you, I love your body, you’re amazing, I love you – “

“Trevor.”

“No, no. I wanna… I wanna feel good! Please, mommy… Please, this ain’t funny anymore! Stop playing with me!”

“I’m not playing with you.”

He growled, “I hate begging, ma! I hate it!”

“I know you do, babe. But you can’t get what you want, right?”

“Fuck you! You bitch!”

You raised an eyebrow at his profound insults. Trevor paused when he realised what he had said. His little outburst had possibly destroyed the last chance he had of receiving more pleasure from you. He nibbled his bottom lip and waited for a reaction, but when he saw nothing but disappointment in your face, he broke down and began praising you like a Greek God.

“Fuck! I didn’t mean it!” He was on his knees, hands stroking your body, “I’m sorry!”

You frowned and went to stand up before he pulled you back onto the bed.

“Baby! I didn’t mean it! I want you, so bad!”

“Shut up, Trevor, shut the fuck up!”

He went dead silent, mouth dropped open.

“What do you want, huh?” You were hostile, intimidating.

Trevor was too afraid to speak. He just looked around the room for a saviour.

“What do you want, Trevor?” Your voice growing louder.

“Ma! I want you! Just you, I just wanna feel good!” He whimpered and held his arms open, desperate for warmth.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, mommy! Yes!”

“How do you want to feel good?”

Trevor chewed on his tongue, “I- I… I want your cunt, babe.”

There was a deep desire that was living in your gut. You were horny as well. You did want something to cure it. Even if he didn’t deserve it, you were just using him at this point. Like a doll.

“My pussy?” You’d muse and walk over, your hand fitting around his neck as he moaned softly.

“Yes…” He breathed and gave you a smirk, “Your pussy…”

“That’s right.”

Trevor groaned when you sat on his lap. His naked crotch was pressing against your cunt, his favourite thing. He grinned when you started to use both hands and choke him. He struggled to breathe, but he loved it. He ogled you with admiration as you took matters into your own hands.

“Mmm…” You murmured when you pushed his dick into your pussy. His lap was shaky – by all means – of all the torture you’d put him through. It was understandable.

“Oh – “ He muffled out a longing moan and jerked his hips up, beginning to thrust.

The penetration itself was glorious. You bounced onto his beaten cock and choked Trevor as he turned bright red and blue. He squealed out a sigh of pleasure, still managing to survive through the choke-hold.

“God, fuck…” A gasp left your lips.

Riding him was a regular occurrence. It was your favourite position together. That or doggy style… But either way, whenever there’s a whole to fuck (Trevor’s words).

The both of you kept on moaning together as the night grew old. It was like a ghost-town outside. You wouldn’t be surprised if your neighbours had heard your activities with Trevor (like you don’t do this most days).

“Urgh – “ Trevor panted, getting close.

You loosened your grip around his neck so he could be more vocal. Nonetheless, you were whining and growing more overstimulated with his dick in your cunt. You exhaled heavily and rode him more and more until your laps were both numb.

“Maaa!”

“Oh God…” It was getting closer and closer now. Your pussy was soaked and his cock throbbed continuously.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He whispered.

“Ah… Ah!” You pressed your forehead against his, “Shit. Oh yeah, tell me how much you love my fucking pussy, babe.”

“I fuckin’ love your cunt, mama… It’s so hot, I love – OH, SHITT!” He bellowed and released his third load from today. He held you down onto his lap and came inside you, his voice hoarse from all the moaning and yelling he had done.

“Oh… Oh my, God!” You gasped at your orgasm that filtered his dick with your cum. He shivered when the sensation of your hot fluid painted his skin. He quickly thrusted back into you so both your cum would merge and mix together, bonding.

“Mmmm…” He’d growl lowly with a smirk.

“So good, babe.”

“Uh, huh…”

“God, my fucking cunt.” You fingered your clit and groaned when you had finished your orgasm.

Trevor licked his lips and stared at you with absolute devotion. He smiled as you closed your eyes to remind yourself of the pleasure.

“I love you, ma.” His whispers were coarse.

“Jesus… Just shut up and cuddle, yeah?” There was no bitterness behind your words, he knew that. You were too immense to act so “lovely dovely”.

“Okay, yeah. But I love you.”

“I lo – “

“I love you.” Trevor repeated.

“Woah, oka – “

“I love you.”

“Trevor!” You laughed, “Goddamn! Let me speak. I was going to say, I love you too…”

“I know,” He smirked, “I just wanted to say it three times.”

“You said it four times actually.”

“Oh! Little miss smartass!”

“Shut up, Trevor.”

“Your tits actually tasted quite nice. A bit salty but that’s sweat, right?”

You rolled your eyes, “Bedtime. Now.”

[sxrensxngwrites]

The Inner Circle Crushing on Someone from a Different Background -- Part One

this request comes from anon, who asks: 'Head canons for the main dragon age squard (if you feel up to it of course!!!!) About them crushing on someone from a different background (example: cullen and someone rich)'

I ended up splitting this up because I got carried away... my bad. If you want any of these to be revisited or you want me to go into more detail, feel free to shoot me another ask! The same can be said you want DA characters from different games. I ended up omitting the portion of the post with Solas, Varric, and Vivienne for various reasons, but if anyone wants to see those: please send me an ask and i'll try my best to get to it.

Part One (Blackwall, Cassandra, Cole) Part Two (Cullen, Dorian, The Iron Bull) Part Three (Josephine, Leliana, Sera)

BLACKWALL:

Blackwall is a good example of “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks”. Or that’s what he thinks at least. Despite his efforts to join in on the group atmosphere in the Inner Circle of Inquisition, I think he sticks to what he knows best: being on his own. 

In the instance of meeting his opposite, I don’t think it’s necessarily someone from a different social or economic standing (although that could be true as well). In this case, Blackwall meets someone who is the embodiment of community. Someone who truly believes that being around like-minded individuals brings out the best in everyone–someone who believes in second chances and inclusion. Said someone would also be less militant than Blackwall, likely having grown up in a community or place that didn’t require them to be fighting at every chance.

When Blackwall begins to catch feelings, he thinks it’s a pipe dream. To him, it’s unreasonable that someone like him–a liar, stuck in self-imposed exile–would be deserving of someone so open minded and forgiving. He shoves every thought he has away, resorting to isolating himself more. He doesn’t want to ruin anything else.

His crush, being someone that believes in inclusion, would refuse to leave Blackwall out (even not knowing the circumstances of his isolation). They would pull him right back into the fray of the Inner Circle and whatever shenanigans they get into in between quests. Their insistence on including Blackwall makes him believe that he really might have a chance after all.

CASSANDRA:

Cassandra has an interesting relationship with her social status. She’s technically in line for the Nevarran throne, but she wanted nothing to do with the nobility. She gave up that claim and gave herself to the Seekers of Truth–but even there she couldn’t remain unremarkable. Cassandra is so good at most everything she does, so she finds standing at the right hand of Divine Justinia. 

Cassandra would likely find interest in someone who came from a different station than she did: humble beginnings and no titles. She finds it refreshing. There’s no nonsensical rituals that need to be done every time they speak, and the lack of formality makes her feel like she’s being treated like a real person. For her to even develop feelings in the first place, the object of her affection would need to be able to stand on their own–she likes someone who doesn’t hide behind orders, organizations, and titles.

When Cassandra meets anyone at all, she doesn’t dare bring up her family name. This is especially the case with someone who catches her interest–and especially if they have nothing to do with the nobility at all. Cassandra wants to be perceived for herself and her skills, rather than the family that has come before her. Not to mention, getting Cassandra to talk about her family history takes a considerable amount of trust.

It takes months of traveling together for Cassandra to begin to let her walls down. When she sees that this person she might have feelings for can be their own person, fights for what they believe in, and stands up against the unjust, she starts to let her own walls down. Sharing her past, her family and her titles is the next step for her–it’s probably the best sign of trust you could get from her. That trust is enough for her to see her crush in a serious light–that this is someone who understands her for who she is, rather than where she came from. 

COLE:

Cole’s origins are so different from the rest of the Inner Circle, having been the amalgamation of a spirit and a human boy. He doesn’t really remember the life that preceded him joining the Inquisition, and his days are shaped by the people that he’s helped rather than the things that happened. Everything about him is rough around the edges since he was never taught much of anything.

When Cole meets his crush, many of the Inner Circle think it’s a disaster waiting to happen–of course he decided to fall for someone with a very prestigious upbringing. They have a noble background and were always taught to be on their best behavior. Even around their friends, they’re formal and use proper titles. It takes a while for it to begin to wear off (only after Varric has insisted that it’s okay that they use first names).

Cole is immediately attracted to them. He doesn’t entirely understand the formalities, but the way that they speak to him on the same level as they do everyone else makes him feel special. That’s how it begins; He enjoys being treated with respect. They’ll even call him “Ser Cole” even though he doesn’t have a real title. And to them, Cole’s interest in everything is adorable. It’s so different from all the possible matches in the nobility. They often turn their noses up at everything, but Cole seems to find joy in even the smallest things.

The relationship begins smoothly. Most of the Inner Circle thinks it’s sweet, so there’s little objection. It’s likely the family of Cole’s love that objects. When they meet, Cole is immediately overwhelmed–all the unspoken rules that are going over his head, and the copious feelings he’s hearing all at once. The evening is a disaster, likely culminating in a family member saying something heinous to Cole. After that Cole begins to think that maybe he’s not worthy of loving someone like them, that it’d be easier to give it up just so he’d never have to do that again. Yet, his love finds meaning in the smaller things, and they’re willing to give up everything they grew up with if it means getting to stay with Cole.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

[natasha-in-space]

Hello! I hope your day is well :D

Is it possible for you to write HCs for Jihyun and an Artist s/o who is actually quite similar to him in terms of traumas and personality?

Thank you, and I hope it'll be a fun write, if you do write it!

Well, artists do tend to stick together! If you're someone who harbors the same love for the creative field as he does, you'll have no problem connecting with Jihyun from the very first days of your admission into the RFA. Once he learns that you're an artist yourself, he'll become almost instantly intrigued in learning more about your craft, as well as what it means to you personally. In his point of view, it's like solving a puzzle. He finds it fascinating how every little detail you gradually come to know about a person reveals that much more about the many intricacies of their inner world. What makes them smile, what makes them cry, what they want to run from, and what they want to achieve... The human mind is so chaotic yet so perfect in its imperfect entirety. It's a form of art in an of itself.

The conversations you can have with him in game can turn pretty philosophical at times as it is, and, if you two share similar interests or views on life, they will get even longer and deeper, much to the puzzlement of the rest of the members. And, since Jihyun often finds himself growing more sentimental during the night, you will definitely find yourself staying up way past your usual bedtime, just to talk about this and that with him in the chatroom.

Getting to know one another, discussing different forms of art, sharing your views on the current topic at hand, expressing your troubles, albeit in a very roundabout way... It's hard to put down your phone when the conversations you're having leaves your brain buzzing with so many thoughts, questions and inspiration. In a way, you two get to know one another while not knowing each other at all. It's all shared in metaphors, cryptic phrases and hushed voices during yet another late-night phone call. You don't know this man, but, at the same time, you feel like you've known him forever.

Jihyun is like a puzzle piece. Much like you are to him.

Still, you know he is a kind and deeply compassionate soul. And, that's enough for you to trust him when things inevitably start going wrong. There are even more questions, inconsistencies and overwhelming revelations hitting you in the face one after another, but, you keep your trust in him through it all. Perhaps, that's because his regretful gaze is such a familiar sight to you, that it hurts. Either way, you manage to get him out safely, and, from then on, you two can finally interact face-to-face. Of course, it's a bit hectic with everything else going on, and him still recovering from what Ray did to him in the basement. But, now you have a chance to get to know him as he is. No hiding behind 'bad phone service' this time around.

Now, Jihyun is a very stubborn man. You wouldn't say that about him at first, but it's something that you will have to deal with first thing after your initial escape from Magenta. His stubbornness and determination to bear the burdens of everyone else's pain on his shoulders is only hurting everyone in the end, but it's hard to just let go of the only thing you've lived by for so long. It's important to be understanding but firm with him. If you're someone who can relate to his inner struggles from your own past experience, finding that balance might be easier. You see yourself in him, as he stubbornly condemns himself over and over, refusing to accept any help, believing that he doesn't deserve that. That it's all his fault, and his only options is to burn in the same flame he has ignited. He thinks the only one who will get hurt by him sacrificing himself is himself, but, in reality, there are people he will inevitably bring so much great pain to by disregarding his own well-being in such an extreme way. It's a tough pill fir him to swallow, but a necessary one nonetheless.

If you choose to open up to him about your own traumas, he might do the same to you about his mother. In the game, he does so after waking up in the hospital after his surgery, but if you choose to bring it up with him while you are still in that cabin, it might happen earlier. It's hard for him to express his own pain so openly. But, it's easier when you have someone who knows what's it like. Hold his hand and listen to him. It'll be a long and deeply emotional conversation between you two, one that leaves him questioning a lot of things about himself and how he viewed the world. The fact that you are so similar to him makes his heart both weep and flutter. On the one hand, it hurts him deeply to think that someone as wonderful as you had to experience such pain. But, on the other hand... you give him hope. Hope, that he can indeed still make things right. That it's not too late for him. That he might... come to love himself one day, just as his mother loved him.

Your relationship with him is one of empathy and companionship.

After all is done, he'll still leave on his journey to self-discovery, knowing that your hearts are connected, no matter how far apart you are. He'll ask you about your art in his letters, and share news about his own experiences with getting back to painting. It makes him smile to think of all the art that you are creating while he is away. He can't wait to see it all once he finally returns to your warm embrace. Of course, he knows you'll do the same for his paintings. It is truly a wondrous thing to have someone who can share in your love for your craft. Sometimes, as he paints, he can't help but wonder if you're doing the same thing as him at that very moment. The thought makes him smile.

And, when it comes to your established relationship once he gets back? It's a very steady and comforting type of love. You are so proud of how far he has come, and you know he's proud of you just as much. In a way, you are each other's rock, holding each other up whenever one of you is too exhausted to stand alone. Your home is full of art that you two have created over the years: some are pieces you've made together, and some are your individual work. Your home is almost like a gallery at this point! The fact that you two are so similar can become a bit of a silly problem sometimes, since it means you both have a tendency to be very stubborn in your beliefs, but you have no problem coming to a shared understanding in the end.

You both have an individual journey to follow, but you will hold onto each other's hands the whole way through.

[lovelaurs]

REQUEST RULES : what i will and won't write! | MASTERLIST

— IMPORTANT : ★

please make sure to check my bio for whether or not my requests are open! my pinned post also has a list of how many of my requests i have completed of the ones previously submitted!

as silly as it is to say; i am biased. if i am given a request involving laurance, that request will be given priority. as i am the one writing the fics, writing requests of many characters can get tiring, so i prefer sometimes to get myself back into the zone by writing my favorite character before other requests (this does not mean your request will be deleted, i will just simply put it in a queue to write!).

in regards to what i will and won't write, please understand that i am going based off what i myself am most comfortable with. if you put a request in my inbox that in any way, shape, or form makes me uncomfortable, i have the right to refuse it. please respect that before submitting any requests!

below you will find the list of everything i will and won't write!

— MY WRITING RULES : ★

WHO WILL I WRITE?

i will write:

mcd characters : if you couldn't tell by now, i absolutely am OBSESSED with minecraft diaries. because of this, any fics i decide to write myself WILL be based in that universe.

mystreet characters : as much as i prefer mcd, i am very much opem to writing mystreet! however, please clarify on your request that it is mystreet, or i will default to writing minecraft diaries!

void paradox characters : i am so obsessed with this mini series and the lore behind it! i will be glad to write about it! but don't expect me to know mod mod world lore since i haven't seen it in years!

i won't write:

romantic aaron x readers : first off, i'd like to say i have nothing against aaron fans! i just personally do not wish to write of him in a romantic way as it makes me uncomfortable. this does NOT mean i won't write him at all! i will 100% write him in a platonic way in requests!

romantic pdh characters x readers : since i am 19, i don't feel comfortable writing x readers of underage characters. i will, however, write platonic and pdh characters x each other though!

side series characters : it has been a LONG time since i have seen any of her other mini side series, so i don't remember much from them! unless they are listed above, i am not going to write series such as inner demons, heart point, ultra nova, etc! this will change in the future when i get to rewatching them!

WHAT WILL I WRITE?

i will write:

romance : i love writing romantic pairings! whether it be of pre-existing characters or x readers, i'm open to it in general! but PLEASE clarify in your request that you mean x character and NOT & character!

platonic : i really enjoy writing friendship fics as well! so feel free to send in any pairing or group and i'll gladly write them! but please be sure to clarify it's platonic in your request!

sequels : if you like a particular one shot i have written, feel free to request a part 2 or more! i'm definitely interested in expanding upon previous stories!

poly : i am completely down to write polyamory relationships! as someone who is poly themself, i truly wish there was more representation! also, please make sure to clarify in which way the relationship goes and who is dating who as well!

prompts : i love having a sense of direction to go in, so prompts are greatly encouraged! but don't worry, if you don't have one, i can write up a scenario myself!

suggestive : i will write suggestive content from time to time or insinuate at topics if the content is right! i will not write suggestive on requests unless it is specifically stated! please do NOT request this if you are a minor.

drabbles : writing little stories and or my thoughts on different scenarios i have in my brain are definitely something i'm interested in! so please share your ideas so i can ramble on about that!

headcanons : i love writing headcanons for characters! so if you have a character in mind with a certain topic as well, i will gladly write about it! or with no topic at all i'll just list my thoughts!

angst : i personally love to torture these characters and make them suffer more than they do in canon (sorry). so feel free to send any angst requests and i'll happily write them!

i won't write:

proship material : anything involving underage characters or problematic themes shed in a good light will NOT be apart of my writing no matter what. if i feel uncomfortable with a request i will simply reject it.

gendered readers : as someone who uses they/them pronouns myself, i prefer to write gender neutral works in which EVERYONE can see themselves in! so, for any requests, please expect them to be done with either they/them pronouns used, or with no mention of gender!

smut : as of right now, i haven't written many x readers yet, and would prefer to keep nsfw out of my writings for now! i might change my mind in the future, so be sure to check this list often to make sure!

anything i feel uncomfortable with : obviously, i'm going to have my own personal preferences as well, so please do not be offended if i turn down any requests that contain content i feel unsure about!

lastly, i'd like to add that if you have any questions or need clarifications on anything here, don't be afraid to ask in my inbox!

[thinkingoflawrence]

The man behind the lost cause (Shane/Reader)

——

Tw: Hurt/Comfort, mention of Alcohol

——-

One day, they walked into the Stardrop Saloon and saw Shane slumped over the counter. They didn't see a lost cause; they saw someone who needed a friend.

"Hey, Shane," Y/N greeted, sliding into the seat beside him. "Mind if I join you?"

Shane grunted, barely lifting his head. "It's a free country."

Y/N smiled gently, placing a freshly bought salad on the counter. "Brought you something. Figured you might like a break from the usual Beer."

Shane looked at the salad, then up at Y/N, his eyes softening for just a moment. "Thanks... I guess."

Y/N spent more evenings at the Saloon, their conversations with Shane growing longer. They found themselves looking forward to these moments, their heart fluttering whenever Shane cracked a rare smile.

A few weeks passed, and their friendship grew. Y/N brought him gifts every so often, which seemed to make Shane lighten up around them more. Y/N finally got more than a grumpy "I don't want to talk to you". They finally got to meet the man behind the lost cause.

One evening, Y/N entered the salon only to find Shane missing. Worry filled their heart as they made their way to Marnie's ranch.

They found him in the barn, clutching a nearly empty bottle of alcohol, tears streaming down his face. "Shane!" Y/N rushed to his side, heartbroken at the sight. "What happened?"

"I can't do this anymore," Shane whispered, his voice thick with despair. "I'm a burden to everyone."

Y/N's eyes filled with tears. "Shane, you're not a burden. You matter to me. More than you know." They reached out to comfort him, their heart hurting to see Shane like this. Why can't he see himself like they see him?

Shane shakily laid his arms around Y/N, needing the comfort they offered him. They helped him to his feet, guiding him back to their farm. That night, Y/N stayed by his side, refusing to let him face his demons alone. They talked about everything and nothing, slowly breaking down the walls Shane had built around himself.

As the night grew darker, Shane looked at Y/N, a vulnerable expression on his face. "Why do you care so much about me?"

Y/N stood still, their chest rising and falling with each deep breath, feeling the pounding of their heart reverberate through their entire body. "I need you to understand that my feelings for you run deep," they said, their voice steady but laced with emotion. "I fell for you Shane, I care about you, I love you..."

Shane's eyes widened, and for the first time in a long while, a glimmer of hope appeared as he reached out for Y/N's hand. "I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do," Y/N squeezed his hand. "And I'm not going anywhere.

In the days that followed, Shane gradually started to share more about himself. He spoke about his experiences, aspirations, and the inner struggles that loomed over him. Y/N attentively listened, providing unwavering support and empathy.

With Y/N's encouragement, Shane started taking small steps towards recovery. He cut back on his drinking and began working more diligently on the farm.

One evening, as the sun set over the valley, Shane and Y/N sat together on the porch. Shane turned to Y/N, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You've given me a reason to hope again."

Y/N felt their heart swell with emotion. "And you've given me a reason to believe in love."

Shane leaned in, his eyes searching Y/N's for any hesitation. Finding none, he closed the distance, capturing Y/N's lips in a tender, heartfelt kiss. It was a promise of better days to come, together. And as spring turned to summer, the bond between Y/N and Shane grew stronger, proving that even in the darkest times, there is always hope for a brighter tomorrow.

[funkymbtifiction]

Dear Funky MBTI in Fiction, How are you doing?

I would like to start this Ask by endorsing my profound gratitude for all the knowledge that you have shared since 2014? and continue to share to this day.

I don't know if you still do type descriptions, but if you are still doing them, I think your perspective would be very helpful for me. I guess I'm pretty sure about my enneagram and instinctual variants 9w1 and Sx/So but i can't stop doubting my junguian/mbti type and my tritype. 

When you think about an INFJ 9w1 Sx/So what comes to your mind? And how do you imagine this hypothetical Infj having also the tritype 945? And how different would this individual be if he actually had a 6 fix instead of a 5? 

Also, if I were to share my experiences and ask for your opinion on my type, what would be the essential information necessary for your understanding of one's type?

Thanks again!

It's best to treat MBTI and Enneagram separately and confirm reach independently, before you see how they might work together and use them to explain your overall pattern of thought and behavior.

You should read my INFJ section first. (Is this how you think? Is this your experience of reality? Are these your strengths and struggles?)

Then there is my 9 + the different types short profiles, which provides a basic assessment.

In a nutshell, INFJs struggle to live in reality because of their lack of Te and their weak Se. They can get carried away with their intuitive perceptions -- for example, reading something briefly, filling in the rest with their own brand of logic, and assuming it is correct, then refusing to listen to any interpretation of the facts that disagrees with their focused understanding or conclusion. 9s also tend to shy away from reality and build a rich inner world in which to dwell and avoid the outside world, so the two would naturally create a personality that is very soft, emotional, sensitive (NiFe reading other people and responding to their feelings), and avoidant. INFJ 9s will often detach from other people in an attempt to avoid being overwhelmed by the pain of their experiences, since they do not want to be affected by them. If they do not do this, they can merge completely into someone else and get lost in them, and not know where they end and the INFJ begins. This is even more evident with sx/so, since there's no barriers happening keep people out. There's nothing stopping them from merging fully into their romantic/sexual partner and losing their own agenda. They would just want a happy, deep, insightful romantic life of total merging and abdication of self with a partner who keeps things peaceful and harmonious with them.

The 945 tritype is completely and utterly withdrawn, repressed 'doing' in all centers -- so there is nothing driving them to move toward doing things, especially with inferior Se. They would be a total dreamer, inert, passive, convinced there's nothing they can do to change whatever problems arise, feeling broken and alone and misunderstood, but helpless to rescue themselves. sx/so would make them move toward others more than usual, but they would still be extremely introverted and secretive, never turning to others for help or telling them much about what is happening in their life. It might lead to incredible loneliness, because they would desperately want to be loved and have friends, but it won't occur to them that they have to make the first move or stay in touch with others, in order not to be forgotten or left behind while they dream and think about people.

This tritype is also past-oriented in every fix, so they would be melancholic and full of deep longing for previous relationships that did not succeed, rather than looking for new ones.

[mistralxsoul]

Flynn tried to stay awake. Tried to listen to the man behind him who sat on the opposite bed in the room. To see if he actually got up to take the journal. But as time passed and Yuri made no move to get up and grab the journal, Flynn… wasn’t terribly surprised. Showing off the contents of the journal just felt like Flynn was fishing for excuses and it was possible that Yuri didn’t even care to know his reasonings behind his constant berating and the sudden change from who he used to be into the uppity individual that he was today.

Still, despite understanding Yuri and his refusal to read Flynn’s excuses, Flynn couldn’t help but feel a tiny ball of disappointment begin to form in his chest. He and Yuri really had grown apart from back when they were teenagers, hadn’t they? They really couldn’t share everything with each other anymore, could they? What changed in Flynn? What changed in Yuri? He had moved away from the Lower Quarter to attempt to heal himself, work on himself after everything happened in the Lower Quarter but all it did was cause Flynn to change back into that poor, awful closed off little child who did nothing but lash out at others. Or had he simply just been pretending to “heal” from that, all this time?

For a moment, that surge of panic threatened to overtake his body once more before his mind and body seemed to realize that this entire night had been… exhausting. Sleep weighed on him, threatening to pull him in at any moment as he listened for any sort of movement from Yuri. Any movement at all that would confirm if he was going to read the journal or turn away and reject any reasoning that Flynn had to offer. Either would be fine with him at this point. Just something to confirm Yuri’s thought process because… Flynn simply couldn’t read him as well as he used to be able to. And that… that was scary.

Flynn blinks slowly once. Two times. A third time. On the fourth time, his eyes close as the world fades around him and he swears he hears the slight sound of movement from behind him. When he opened his eyes again, sunlight had begun to peak through the curtains of their shared room.

Flynn blinked sleepily at the wall in front of him for a moment before rolling over to stare up at the ceiling, the clock in their room, indicating that it was just a few minutes past five in the morning. He and Yuri weren’t scheduled for guard duty until eight that morning so he could, technically, sleep in if he wanted to… but he had never been one to do that, especially lately. So, despite his body feeling entirely wrecked and drained from the night before, Flynn forces himself to sit up in his bed, running a tired hand through his hair as he chanced a glance towards his roommate.

The first thing he noticed was Yuri sprawled out on his bed, as usual. But this time, he held a rather familiar looking journal tightly in his hand, the book opened to a random page that Flynn had written a few weeks ago. Perhaps it was because his mind was still lagging from just waking up that stopped his heart from practically leaping its way from his chest. So, he really chose to read it? Not even just read a few pages… How long had he been awake the night before, reading his journal?

For the first time in a while, Flynn could feel his cheeks warm at the mere thought of it. As Flynn slowly began to fully awaken, his mind began to race with feelings that he couldn’t quite decipher… but he could safely assume he was feeling a bit… embarrassed. Embarrassed that he couldn’t actually speak his words. Embarrassed for his behavior last night and embarrassed by how confused and lost he seemed to have made Yuri. And finally, embarrassed that he had essentially given Yuri a front row seat into the thoughts that were raging in his head.

…And yet… that last one was also strangely comforting. Allowing Yuri to read his most inner thoughts was almost cathartic, in a way. They used to share everything, of course, so to be able to once again share his inner secrets almost made Flynn feel a bit at home. More at home than he had felt in months. A year, even.

The panic from the night before was slowly beginning to diminish, but the dread of what Yuri would say when he woke up, if anything, still drifted over Flynn’s head like a threat. Getting up, Flynn gently moved over to Yuri and gingerly tugged the journal from his friend’s grasp and moved to place it back on his own desk. Then, like on autopilot, he moved back to Yuri’s bedside and found himself carefully dropping to his knees beside the other’s bed, so he could be at eye level with the other when he woke up.

This, too, felt comforting in a way. Almost normal. And looking at Yuri’s sleeping face, Flynn would have never guessed that this was the same man who had been pissing him off consistently ever since they joined the Knights. In a way, it reminded him of Yuri back when they were younger. Back when things were… peaceful.

With a tiny, regretful sigh, Flynn reached over to place a hand on the other’s good shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. It was way too early for Yuri, he knew that for certain. But as much as he would have liked to allow the other to sleep a little more, Yuri had to get into the habit of waking up extremely early if he were to continue to be in the knights. That, and it was a good idea to get his shoulder checked before their shift. “Yuri. Wake up, it’s morning.”

He remained on his knees by the bed, wanting to keep that eye contact when (if) Yuri opened his eyes, which was… different from normal, wasn’t it. Usually, he would be standing over Yuri, shaking him awake if needed or even yanking the blankets from his sleeping body if he refused to wake up. But no, this time he remained knelt by the other’s bed, holding a neutral expression to the best of his ability, to hide the anxious thoughts rushing through his mind.

“Come on, we need to get your shoulder checked soon. Especially if we want to have enough time to eat breakfast properly after we get ready.”

It didn't take long for Yuri to understand what he was referring to - how his complicated behavior and actions were leaving Yuri confused and angry. That he was offering to let Yuri have insight into his feelings, possibly in the hope that it would ease at least something between them. In a way it made Yuri feel... bad for how he'd acted sometimes around Flynn. He knew it wasn't all because of him specifically and that was a lot more to Flynn's anger than just Yuri's attitude, but...obviously, his attitude wasn't helping.

Unfortunately he had no idea what he was capable of changing. Right now, for now, this was him. Not all of it was sunshine and rainbows, and honestly, probably a lot of it wasn't. Ever since his depressive slump that he'd originally thought hadn't been that bad, had he just gotten... worse along the way? Nobody was there to tell him after all except Hanks, and he'd often taken that as just... a father rolling his eyes at their child.

As Flynn left the journal open, Yuri found himself wondering if anyone else knew about it. At least, Yuri would have known about it before anyone else had, wouldn't he...? Was it selfish to think that...? In the past Yuri had taken that for granted because it truly was normal, but now... he wasn't so sure. If that was the case though - if he wasn't telling Yuri something, was he... telling anyone? Was that selfish to think too?

Normally Yuri might have gotten a bit miffed at Flynn's conversation ending, but he could tell from Flynn's expression as the blond reread one of his entries that he was very unhappy about the contents. Had Yuri had his own journal, he wasn't sure he would want to go back and reread anything he'd written either. That felt like opening floodgates all over again, and Yuri definitely had his share of floodgates that he did not want reopened.

So he waited for Flynn to fall asleep, offering him a quiet "night" in response. It wasn't necessary to wait for Flynn to fall asleep, given that Flynn had told him it was okay to read it, but... it still felt intrusive somehow to just get up and go right for reading it right upon the invitation to do so. He hoped it didn't... disappoint Flynn that he didn't look at it right away or that it made him seem apathetic toward it, but it also might keep Flynn awake as the man would lay there wondering what Yuri thought of everything. Being stressed instead of sleeping.

With a lamp beside him left on, Yuri quietly moved to Flynn's side of the room to retrieve the journal, taking it back with him to his own bed. He assumed Flynn left it on his entry for a reason so it was the first one he looked at, finding himself unsurprised by the mentions of his father. That seemed to be a recurring issue with him ever since they'd been stationed out here. He was never truly Flynn. He was always Finath's son.

At first it didn't mean much to Yuri though in regard to their own relationship. It explained why Flynn was more uptight now to some extent, but he hadn't put together why that affected them directly until he checked on some of the other pages. When some of the entries started directly mentioning Yuri by name. How Flynn might have been seeing the potential of Finath's death in Yuri.

Yuri himself wasn't sure he'd have it in him to throw his life away like that - he really did think people should push to survive - but given his impulsiveness and lack of following orders from people with more explaining, it didn't not make sense that Flynn would have that fear. Plus, Flynn might just not... know what his feelings on things were anymore. They'd... been apart for a while before they joined the knights.

Eventually it continued from there though. It wasn't just about Flynn's father, or comparing Finath and Yuri. After a while it started to become a repeated thing to take note of that Flynn kept bringing Yuri alone up. That Flynn had days where he felt it was prominent enough to write down that if Yuri was even just so much as late to return when everyone regrouped that he would start to get anxious and antsy. The longer Yuri read, the more his name came up. The more it was obvious that Yuri was on his mind a lot more than Yuri himself realized.

This level of worry was... a bit concerning, honestly. It showed how erratic Flynn's mind could be, but also the varying emotions and how they fluctuated. When they were teenagers, it... never would have gotten this bad. Yuri would have noticed things were bothering Flynn, and... Flynn was so much more likely to just tell him. Had Flynn just somehow lost the ability to do that? Why was he trying to mask these things from Yuri at all?

It gave him... a lot of questions. Some things were answered, but they raised different questions in their places. Things Yuri was eventually getting too tired to even think through, instead feeling waves of some unknown emotion through his stomach the more he saw his own name in all these contexts. Had he been giving Flynn a hard time like this and the whole time, Flynn just couldn't vocalize himself well? Had he done nothing truly wrong and it was just Flynn going through things that he had to try to handle on his own?

Reading this wasn't guaranteed to answer anything else for him, but seeing the flow of Flynn's emotions kept him holding on until he realized he was too tired to get up to even put the journal back. Would Flynn be angry about that...? Yuri didn't even know what time it was now, just that he was too tired to move and too tired to read further. The last thing he was even remotely aware of was setting the journal down on his bed to the side of himself - in case he still wanted to try to read it, right? In case he was just closing his eyes to just rest...

But before he had a chance to just rest his eyes, he'd already fallen asleep with the journal beside his head, a hand still gently holding onto it as if he was just going to pick it up again in a minute.

[bestiesenpai]

and there was only one bed! - Sukuna

Wow who would have guessed my first curse!Sukuna fic would be this? Not me lol so sorry if it sucks! Femme reader, everyone is aged up 18+

TW: dubcon, somnophilia, overstimulation, one (1) use of the word daddy, squirting

You and Yuji were great friends. Ever since he came to the school you were joined at the hip. Bugging Fushiguro, getting into crazy schemes with Inumaki and Panda - there was always something the two of you could get into together. Being so close throughout the years, it was only natural that the two of you would go on missions together as well as you got older. Spending a few days away from the school was all fun and games, and the added luxury of having your own private hotel rooms didn’t hurt either.

And the fun didn’t stop after you graduated, with Gojo still being in charge of booking your accommodations even though you’d been out of school for a while.

“Oh, so there’s only one bed this time…” Yuji mumbled as the two of you walked into the Airbnb that Gojo had booked for you. The house was nice enough, a quaint one bedroom on the edge of the city you were to be working in in the morning.

Through the open bedroom door you could see that there was indeed only one bed.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” Yuji announced with a slight sigh under his breath.

“We’re here for three days, no way will that be comfortable.”

“Well I won’t let you sleep on the couch.”

“We can just share the bed then.” Taking his suitcase from him, you dragged it and your own towards the bedroom.

“No, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” Getting a hand on his luggage before you got too far, Yuji stared at you with narrowed eyes.

“Yuji, we’re best friends, it’ll be fine.” Swatting his hand away, you shuffled a little bit closer to the door. “We can put the couch pillows between us, plus look!” Getting into the room, you gestured towards the massive mattress. “This thing is huge anyway, we’ll have plenty of space to spread out!”

“Well…” Worrying his lip, Yuji looked between you and the bed. “Alright, but you have to tell me if you get uncomfortable.”

“Please, it’ll be fine.” You waved off his concern. There really was no reason to be nervous about anything; Yuji was a respectable guy and you knew he slept deeply anyway. The only real concern you had was if he would violently toss and turn like Fushiguro said he did.

Hours later and the sun was down, you and Yuji had both showered and were now climbing into bed. There was a good wall of pillows from the couch between you two, and Yuji had insisted over and over that you tell him if you weren’t comfortable.

“Goodnight bestie.” You giggled childishly, turning your back to him and closing your eyes.

“Night.” Yuji giggled as well and the two of you got quiet, taking slow and even breaths until you fell into a rhythm and went to sleep.

A few hours later, the feeling of hot breath on the back of your neck and something molding to your body from behind had just slightly roused you from sleep. Something was poking the spot right below your ear, forcibly quiet breathing just barely audible at the edge of your mind.

The sweat collecting on your skin from the heat of what you presumed to be Yuji’s body attempting to smother you in his sleep was beginning to drown you, and you threw the blanket off your chest to gain some reprieve.

Settling down again, you didn’t feel the hand creeping up your sleeping shirt and grabbing a handful of your breast. Deft fingers rolled your nipple as another hand slid across your hips and pulled you flush against another body.

Pushing past the band of your bottoms, the hand pushed your thighs apart slightly and dipped between your folds, slowly rubbing your clit. The pleasure was beginning to reach you and your unconscious body reacted in kind, rolling your hips against the friction and eager to get more.

What woke you up, however, wasn’t the slick gathering between your legs, it was the body beginning to crush you from behind.

“Yuji...roll over…” You slurred sleepily, attempting to push away the heavy arm that lay across your body. A deep, shuddering breath sounds in your ear, but the arm didn’t move. “Yuji, you’re crushin’ me.”

“Sorry baby.” A voice much deeper than Yuji’s replied, and a kiss was placed on the back of your neck as the pressure was released.

“S’okay.” Yawning softly, you were about to let sleep overtake you once again, and then the squeezing fingers on your breast got a little tighter, and laughter resonated behind you.

“Such an easy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” Rolled onto your back, you opened your eyes in time to be face to face with Sukuna. Your mouth opened to scream, but instead of a piercing cry, you began to choke; Sukuna had shoved two fingers into your mouth.

“Quiet now, don’t want to wake the neighbors.” Even in the low light of the bedroom, you could tell it was him. The voice, sharp nails attached to the fingers in your mouth and the overwhelming amount of cursed energy were enough.

Your clothes were ripped off in an instant, leaving you completely bare before him. Withdrawing his now wet fingers, Sukuna brought them down to your cunt, using the added lubrication from your saliva to push into you.

The stretch made you hiss between your teeth, the slight burning sensation that came with nearly completely edging out the pleasure you’d just been feeling a few moments ago. Sukuna sunk his fingers in halfway before withdrawing and beginning a languid stroke.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake up.” He chuckled, using his other hand to go back to your breast.

“Stop!” Grabbing his wrist, you tried to pull it off but it was no use.

“Aw c’mon baby, don’t act that way! You were enjoying it a minute ago!” To punctuate his statement, Sukuna brought his thumb up to your clit and smirked when you jumped, your walls clenching around his fingers. “See, this pretty pussy seems to be enjoying it.”

“Sukuna let me go!” Your feeble cry was music to his ears and Sukuna nearly moaned at the sound. He could see the frantic desperation on your face mixing with the arousal that had seeped into your mind.

“But if I do then you won’t get to cum! And that wouldn’t be very nice, would it?” Letting go of your chest, he smacked his hand onto the pillow beneath your head and leaned over you. He kissed you before you could answer, his hand coming to wrap around the back of your head.

Shoving his tongue into your mouth, Sukuna overrode any thought you had in your brain. He was domineering, forcing your lips to stay locked with his as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth.

His other hand refused to lay idly and all it took was a few flicks of his wrist and a firm thumb pressed on your clit to get you to start whimpering into his mouth. Your knees knocked together at Sukuna’s sides, hands gripping his shoulders as he finger fucked you.

Sucking your tongue into his mouth, Sukuna pulled away slowly, thin strings of saliva connecting you two together before breaking off and dropping onto your chest. Sukuna kept his face close to yours, close enough that the breaths from your exasperated moans warmed his face.

“S-Sukuna stop-” You whined as you came, moaning pitifully as your cunt spasmed around his fingers.

“After that, I don’t think I can stop now.” Pulling his fingers out, Sukuna used two to rub your clit in tight circles, hurtling you into overstimulation and making tears prick at your lashes. Your knees pressed even harder into him as your thighs tried to squeeze together to get him to stop.

“It- it hurts- Sukuna!” Tossing your head back, another orgasm was forcibly brought forward. This one was edged with pain, and embarrassment slowly trickled in as your cunt clenched around nothing and you found yourself wishing his fingers were inside you again.

Smoothing his hands on your inner thighs, Sukuna smirked down at your spent form. Just watching your chest heave as you calmed down had his ego boosted. Reaching a hand down to fist his cock, he let out a shaky breath as a bead of precum dripped out and onto your skin.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this.” He mumbled, pushing your legs further apart so he could get closer.

“Wait, it won’t fit!” You didn’t know the size of Yuji’s cock, but you could tell it had been made much bigger by Sukuna’s appearance. Pushing your hands onto his chest, you couldn’t keep Sukuna at bay for very long.

“Don’t worry baby, daddy will make it fit.” The tip of Sukunas cock pushed into you as he spoke, the bulbous head already much thicker than his fingers. Your nails dug into his chest the further he went, nearly drawing blood as he slowly bottomed out.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Sukuna smirked, holding himself still to not only allow you to get used to the stretch but to bask in the moment as well. Forcing air through your lungs, it was a struggle to try and get used to the feeling of almost being split in half.

Sukuna clamped his hands on your hips as he slowly dragged his cock halfway out. Snapping forward, the light slap of skin against skin began to build in the room, muffled only by the light gasps leaving your mouth.

“S’too much!” You whined, screwing your eyes closed and shaking your head a little. “Too big, Sukuna- please-” Laughing under his breath, Sukuna pressed his fingers on your clit again, circling in time with his thrusts.

“You’re so whiny, baby, I bet you’ve never taken a cock this big before.” With every swipe of his thumb, he could feel you tighten up around him and the drag of his cock against your walls got easier.

Letting go of your hip, Sukuna slid his hand down your leg, hooking it under your knee and pushing it up toward your chest. The added angle allowed him to get deeper, practically hitting your cervix every time he pushed in.

You let out a loud, girlish squeal at the change and your hands scrambled to push against his lower stomach. The new position felt too good, immediately assaulting your senses with a toe curling pleasure.

“Sukuna, no!” The tips of your fingers pushed at him, stopping him a little short of completing a full thrust. Scoffing and rolling his eyes, Sukuna grabbed both your wrists in his hand, forcing your arms straight and keeping your hands away from him.

“Quit your whining, you can take it.” Pushing your knee down even further, Sukuna dug his knees into the mattress and slapped his hips against yours, ignoring any further squeals or whimpers.

Giving your wrists a bruising squeeze, he let go to grab your other leg and hike it up as well. He wouldn’t be stopped by the hands pushing against him, begging him to slow down or to change positions again.

“I’m gonna- Sukuna-” Your orgasm was building quickly, getting rid of any rational thought as pleasure shot up your spine and had nearly all the muscles in your body tightening up. You were so close to cumming, but there was another feeling behind it as well. “Sukuna stop, I’m gonna- pee!”

“Ha, you nasty girl. Go right ahead then.” Putting all his focus into his hips, Sukuna pounded into you, making sure you felt every inch of his cock. He nearly had you bent in half, his upper body leaning dangerously close to yours.

Whatever cries you had left were reduced to mindless babbles, overwhelmed tears threatening to fall as you came again. There was the rush of an orgasm coursing through you, making your cunt spasm and milk Sukuna for all he was worth.

But there was another feeling, one much more wet than you anticipated. With every forward thrust of Sukuna’s hips, a gush of liquid was forced out, coating everything within reach.

“Dirty girl, squirtin’ all over me like this.” Letting your knees fall back down to your sides, Sukuna pulled his cock out and stared down at his body, dripping with your release. “Even made a mess of the bed.” Sitting up on your elbow, you could see the dark stain forming on the bedsheets and feel the moisture begin to seep into your skin.

“M’not...not dirty.” Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, about as heavy as your head and you fall back down onto the bed, vaguely aware of some stray tears that have fallen onto your face.

“Yes you are.” Sukuna immediately counters, a sick smile on his face as he pushes his cock back inside you, a low whine emanating from the back of your throat at the stretch to your sensitive walls. “You’re my dirty girl, and we’re gonna have a fun three days together.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 7

Summary: In order to win, she might have to lose.

Warnings: angst, swearing, bit of fluff, sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six  

=================================

Waking up to skies lit by the wintry sun is what Y/N expected. In the back of her mind, she remembers opening her eyes. Perhaps it’s her mind playing tricks on her, but she could swear she heard Aleksander’s voice softly speaking to her. 

Telling dreams from reality felt like an impossible task, but if it were a dream, would she really dream of him?

Death never crossed her mind. She was a soldier in an expendable army for most of her life, yet she never feared death. There was never a lingering sense of what if when they asked her if she believed in life after death, but she wondered now. Looking death in the eye had forced a realization upon her – she would die and achieve nothing. She married arguably the most powerful man in all of Ravka and she failed to utilize it. In the end, her name would be forgotten in history for her plans would all die with her.

Inhaling sharply, she wanted to open her eyes. A heaviness settles on her eyelids, making her groan. Her entire body felt dismantled, every nerve bare, inflicting pain.

“It’s alright”, a hand pressed to her forehead and Y/N frowns. Breathing heavily, she felt vulnerable, exposed.

Swallowing thickly, her eyes flutter open. With blurry vision, she looked up at the dark presence looming above her. Blinking fast, her lips part and before she can ask, cool liquid runs down her parched throat.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes closed again. She needed a moment to collect herself, to stop the world from spinning.

“It hurts”, she mumbles meekly.

“Shhh”, his voice reaches her. “I’m here”, she feels a gentle squeeze of his hand, “You’re safe.”

Resisting sleep, she opened her eyes once more. The sight of his tormented gaze leaves her nearly breathless. He’s still handsome, but it looks as if he’s aged ten years in just a few days.

“What happened?” Her voice is hoarse, still raspy from thirst and sleep.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week”, his forehead wrinkles, “We’ve just made it back.”

Despite the little voice in his head, the Darkling held onto his wife throughout the night. He kept her close to his chest, running his fingers through her hair. She was exhausted, injured so badly he could hear the strain her body was under with every breath she took.

Her eyes remained closed, her lips slightly parted and his pressed in a thin line. Absurd. It was absurd to think that someone like that – so delicate, so fragile, could have any power over him. It baffles him just how quickly he found himself attached to this woman who was unremarkable in every possible way – or so he told himself.

Truth be told, he couldn’t take his eyes off her since he first saw her. She radiates genuine beauty few possess, a confidence he’s never found in anyone in hundreds of years, and an air of mystery he couldn’t quite understand.

By the time morning light reached their tent, the Darkling just stared at her with care, studying every inch of her face as if it could be the last time he’ll ever be given a chance. He memorized the way she fit in his embrace, the rhythm of her beating heart in the dead of night and every labored breath as it threatened his sanity.

Anger was his best friend for so long, his shield against humanity, but his anger wasn’t all-consuming as it once was – it was directed to those who caused the swelling around her eyes and cuts across her cheekbones.

“General”, Ivan’s head peaked inside the tent only to swiftly disappear once he caught sight of a moment he was sure wasn’t meant for his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, the Darkling gently laid her head down. Caressing her cheek, he let a heavy sigh pass his lips. It’s been too long since he last felt so defenseless and helpless as he did now. He promised himself he’d never feel that way again and yet he found himself in the same cursed whirlwind of emotions as he was in when the fold came to be.

Biting his lower lip, he pushed it all down. If he’s distraught, his people would know. He cannot be emotional and still lead an army. He has to be strong – for Grisha and for Y/N.

“Ivan, we’ll have to find a healer soon”, Kirigan spoke in a hushed tone. Glancing at the tent, he felt a lump growing at the back of his throat. “I believe she’s developed a fever too.”

“Fedyor can try to cool her temperature”, Ivan offers, “He’ll slow her heart and keep her breathing. I’ll trade with him if necessary.”

Nodding, the general was satisfied with Ivan’s solution. For once, Ivan didn’t question why he wanted to protect her. This time, he was offered aid rather than words of discouragement.

“I’ll have to leave some of our own here”, Kirigan looks at the direction they came from. “The Fjerdans came too close and I need to know why. Why would they take my wife?”

Ivan lowers his voice, making sure he doesn’t wake up Y/N, “Perhaps it was a coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Not when her safety is at stake.”

Nodding, Ivan glances at Fedyor. He’d be the same if anyone touched his beloved. Suppressing a smile, Ivan finally realized it – no matter how vehemently the general denies it, his heart is no longer his.

“What are the orders? I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

“Take back what they took, place their heads on a stake and wait. More should come soon and when they do, I want to know why they came so close to Little Palace and who ordered them to take my wife.”

Squinting, not in anger but to see him better, Y/N frowns, “A week?”

“Winter made it hard for us to move faster and you were in no shape to ride back.”

Letting out a shaky breath of air, she raised an eyebrow, “So you carried me?”

“Ivan and Fedyor kept you alive too.”

Wetting her chapped lips, she hesitated. Her fingers burned, itching to touch him, to intertwine with his.

“A healer should be here any minute now”, Aleksander informed, pulling his hand out of hers as if he could sense her inner battles and decided to help her by removing himself from it entirely.

“No”, she decided.

Standing abruptly, his jaw clenched. Despite his stern expression, his eyes hold all the sadness in the world, pleading eyes that both threaten and adore.

“No?” He repeats with disdain, “What do you mean by no?”

Holding her breath, she endures a sharp pain in her ribcage as she propped herself up on her elbows. Breathing heavily, she directed her determined gaze on him. “I’m human, am I not?”

Squinting at her, his lips part, “And?”

Struggling to prevent herself from laughing at the way he looked at her now, Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Humans aren’t allowed aid of a healer. We go to the medics.”

“You’re my wife”, he remarks almost instantaneously, slightly wishing she remained unconscious for a while longer. If she slept, the healer would have done their job and there would be no argument. There was no doubt about it, their truce was over.

“But I’m still a human. The rest of my kind don’t have the privilege of being married to you.” Her voice is stern, low and frustratingly righteous.

“You need a healer or you might not survive”, Aleksander insisted.

“Then let me die.” She stared at him, no signs of crumbling and it made him feel like he’s drowning.

Rubbing his forehead, the Darkling shut his eyes in frustration. After all the sleepless nights, his head felt like it would implode. All he had on his mind was her safety and now when he brought her home, she refused help.

“What do you want?”

Knitting her eyebrows, she glanced at his jaw as it clenched. “What?”

Her voice is higher, almost confused but he knew better than that. “I’ve known you for almost two months.” Two months too long, he thought. “I know when you’re trying to extort me.”

Covering her mouth, Y/N suppressed a laugh. Truth be told, it’s exactly what she’s doing, she just didn’t expect him to cave so quickly.

“Healers for the First army”, her lips twitch. Pursing her lips, she bites the soft flesh on the inside of her mouth to stop herself from smiling at all costs.

“No”, he spoke through gritted teeth.

Shrugging, she laid back down. “Alright then. I only regret I won’t be here to hear you explain my death to the Tsar and my father.”

Growling under his breath, he swipes his hand down his face. “One healer.”

“Two”, she argued, sitting up with a pained expression on her face.

“We can’t spare two”, the Darkling crosses his arms, his eyes darker than ever before.

Lifting her chin in defiance, she narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Two healers or no deal.”

Releasing a long, heavy breath in frustration, the Darkling felt his insides turn. “Two healers but only for those who can’t get better with a week long rest on their own.”

“Two healers for those who can’t get better in a few days of rest AND the same amount of food and water for the First army.”

Running a hand through his hair, the general’s nostrils flare. Cracking his neck to the left, to the right, he turned his death glare back on his wife. “Food and water are limited for Grisha as well.”

“I saw them eat grapes”, Y/N deadpans. “You have enough, so share. If the First army dies out, who will protect your precious Grisha?”

Folding her hands in her lap, she maintained eye contact with the general who refused to blink. He stared back at her, aghast. The woman was impossible! She made every word that passed her lips a contest of wills.

His jaw set, he moved closer to stand before her. He looked formidable with the relentless, firm pools of black ink for eyes devouring her with intensity, too hard in comparison to what she had seen in the tent. He looked like he could kill her without even putting a hand on her…something she still expected him to do.

What was stopping him? She was far behind enemy lines, no reinforcements and she saw what he can do – he could kill everyone who stood in his way.

“Fine”, he huffs. “Under one condition.”

Rolling her eyes, she nods, “What is it?”

“I want a kiss.”

Her eyes flashed to his. Ringed with golden bruises, she was still alluring – like a wildfire or a storm. No…she is wildfire, a storm. She is deadly and uncontrollable and slightly out of her wits and he’s asking her to be his ruination. It isn’t love, he tells himself, it’s obsession.

Raising her eyebrows, Y/N didn’t bother hiding her surprise. A kiss? Of all the things he could have asked, the big bad general who can summon shadows is asking for a kiss?

A part of her trusted Aleksander and that trust demanded intimacy. She wanted his hands on her – in her hair, his lips on her neck. She longed to be vulnerable and that’s what worried her. Trusting him, needing him, it’s bound to breed love and self-inflicted madness. If it were anything else, she would outright refuse him, but she has so many lives dependent on her answer.

“Tonight”, she decided. If her own sanity is the price to pay, she will do what she has to do.

Nodding, the Darkling retreated. Leaving the room, he opened the door for the healer to enter. Sparing her a quick look, he swallowed thickly as the thought of her willingly kissing him made his heart slam into the rib cage. Even his heart wanted to escape him as it too longed for her hands’ touch.

He didn’t make more than two steps outside the room when a Grisha joined him - one of his many spies.

“What do you have for me?”

The spy beckons him to the side, looking around wildly. “This could change everything.”

“What is it?” The Darkling speaks through gritted teeth, demanding an answer.

“There is talk”, the spy pauses, “Of a Sun Summoner.”

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

Healed, bathed and properly fed, Y/N had paced their room in anticipation of his arrival. She had seen the look in his eyes earlier that day – something between them has changed.

As the door opens, her breath halts inside her throat.

“I thought you were lost”, Genya admitted. “When they found your mare, I lost hope.”

Smiling, Y/N cupped her cheek. “I did too”, she sniffled.

The Darkling felt, more than saw, her presence as he entered the room. He turned slowly, his breath held. Her hair looked darker in the candlelight, its rich color gleaming against the green velvet of fresh sheets on the bed she leaned against. He could hardly speak. The nearness of her, the quiet room, the candlelight made him question the reality of what he was looking at.

“You look better”, Aleksander managed a curt smile, looking at Y/N and her attire. The sheer nightdress she wore was back, perfectly outlining her figure.

“Why did they take you?” Genya asked, unshead tears weighing heavily on her eyes. “Did they know?”

“No”, Y/N shakes her head, “But they found out.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. Kirigan killed them all.” Y/N glanced at the door where she expected her husband to appear later on.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Y/N felt her heart flip. “It helped me realize something.”

Frowning, Genya waited for Y/N to explain.

“Your General does have a heart”, she states. His request for a kiss lingered in every thought her mind could concoct.

She stared at him then slowly untied the belt of her robe and it glided languidly over her smooth skin, falling to her feet.

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. 

“Of course he does”, Genya chuckles, “He was most worried when you were taken. He promised he’d kill them all and bathe in their blood.”

“I think I can use that.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Genya’s frown deepened. “How?”

Pressing her lips, Y/N sighed. “In order for me to win”, she paused, “He needs to believe he did.”

“Husband”, she spoke clearly. She feigned confidence, but inside she quivered.

She had barely finished the syllable when she was in his arms, being carried to their bed, his lips already fastened to hers. She felt his lips hit hers like a tornado, his admission of burning the world in her name spinning in her head. It could have been a fever dream, but she would bet her life it wasn’t.

Holding her chin in place, he rested his forehead on hers, heaving from the kiss. She couldn’t open her eyes, clinging to him for dear life, but even with eyes closed, Y/N could hear the emotions thick in his voice.

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not willing.” He whispered against his lips, all too prepared for his hands to roam her body now.

Y/N was afraid of herself as well as of him. He could sense it as he kissed her. He’d waited a long time for her to come to him and now it seems she was more than ready to give herself to him without his talk of her marital duty.

He expected anything but to find her with her arms wide open.  But even now, as he held her, he felt no great sense of triumph.

Pulling the sheet over her, he stood. “I can wait.”

The sheet accented her shoulders and the full swelling of her breasts. The candlelight deepened the shadow above the sheet. Her bare throat pulsed with life. Her face was set in a firm, serious expression that caused her eyes to darken. Her lips were hard, as if carved of marble and he ached to part them into a smile.

Turning away, he began undressing himself for bed, wondering how he could survive a night beside her if she remains as she is now.

She averts her gaze, whispering under her breath in confusion, “Wait?”

He laid beside her, barely dressed at all. She found herself achingly aware of his presence. The only light in the room was from the flames of candles she placed across the room. The light danced on her hair, played with the shadows of her delicate collarbones. At this moment, he remembered nothing of the arrangement their marriage was meant to be. He knew only that he was in bed with a desirable woman, one he never expected to claim. She seemed too headstrong to ever give into his charm, yet she bared herself before him and he couldn’t take advantage of her.

“Why don’t you want me?” She sat up, glaring at him. She let the sheet fall as his eyes met hers, bravely fixing him with her fiery gaze.

Rolling his eyes, he looks away. How can she torment him like this with no shame?

If anything, he felt like she’s attacking him. “I don’t want to hear about how a demon took you by force for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not force if I’m giving myself willingly, is it?” She raised an eyebrow, deciding on a tactic finally. Aleksander is a general, a conqueror at heart and she saw the desire in his eyes. If there was any hope of her plan to work, she had to harness his desire to convince him he won.

Licking his lips as he cracked a smile, Aleksander nodded in surprise, unable to keep his eyes from wandering lower to her breasts. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He wanted to possess her, to claim this difficult, headstrong woman for himself. His mouth came down brutally hard on hers, claiming them, nearly bruising them.

Y/N fumbled with the sheet that wrapped around her, making Aleksander chuckle into the kiss.

“Let me help you,” Aleksander purred and tore the sheet away, pulling it from under the mattress.

Wrapping his hand around Y/N’s neck, his grip was oddly weak, gentle even. She laid nude before him, his gaze fixed on her. He stared at her in wonder; her full breasts, curvy waist, round hips. Then he looked back at her face, her eyes blazing. Her lips were reddened from his kiss, and suddenly there was no power on earth that could stop him from taking her.

“You make me feel”, he pauses in anguish, “You make me feel”, he said quietly, fiercely, “And I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

He pushed her into the mattress and Y/N saw the ruthless general in his eyes and for a moment she feared it. A general isn’t gentle at all, not like Aleksander could be. She feared the pain he’d cause and the tears that would follow. She feared what he’d do to her, but then the fear she felt dissipated as he spoke against her lips.

“I’ll go slowly.” Aleksander stopped himself, remembering she’s never had a man in her bed before and once he saw the fear in her eyes extinguish the flame he already adored, he reeled himself in.

“Your hands are bloody from murder”, she paused, “But I trust them completely.” Her voice had never been smaller, her hands never as desperate as she clung to him. She wanted to trust the sudden, overwhelming warmth in his unrelentingly tender gaze, but she still awaited the pain that was yet to come. He moved on top of her, his lips attaching to her neck gently as he pressed a kiss above her pulsating carotid, knowing she’s nervous as he felt the pace of her pulse.

With one thigh, Aleksander parted hers. He kissed her again, passionate and slow, distracting her as his hand moves lower, down to the intimate parts she never allowed another only man to see, to feel. Slipping his finger between her folds, he found if applied enough pressure a desperate moan escapes her without a fail. He feels her breathing change as he begins to rub circles, her thighs trying to push against his in a need of more friction. And that’s when control escapes her and she closes her eyes completely, letting the pleasure take over.

Unable to wait any longer, Aleksander pushed the head of his hardened length between the folds, feeling her wetness pooling over as nature’s lubricant. Feeling the membrane, he stops for a moment. Looking at her carefully for any signs of distress, he wonders if she even realizes what is about to happen.

“Do you want this?” He asks again, fearing she may change her mind.

Gripping his arm, she nods. “Yes”, she replies, breathless.

Pressing himself inside, he bows his head in the crook of her neck, growling lowly in pleasure. It’s not the first virgin he had, but it’s the first one that made him want to come on the first thrust.

“Go on.” She encourages him, surprising them both. Swallowing thickly, she sinks her nails into his back, anticipating the next thrust. It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t in pain, but she knew it would get easier as he moves again and she would feel the pleasure again – and she wanted the pleasure more than the pain.

Nodding, Aleksander starts moving in and out slowly, refusing to risk her pain for a little more pleasure he’d find in speed and his untimely release. Instead, he’s using deep, slow strokes with a relentless care for the nerve bundle between her folds. Every passing second draws louder moans from her until he feels her clench around him, his own mind blackening as he feels himself nearing the edge. She’s holding him so tightly to her body, so desperately as she unravels beneath him. Picking up pace, he finally loses control, jerking his hips to meet hers in a deep thrust only to finish deep inside her, allowing them both to breathe.

Rolling off her, Aleksander decided to stay quiet, allowing her to have control of the moment. If she wants his embrace, he’d do it for her and if she wants to talk, he’d talk to her, otherwise, he’d just sleep. It’s been so long since he truly slept – since the day they went for that ride.

He placed an arm around her for comfort alone, not pressing himself closer than necessary, closing his eyes once he realizes she’s not interested in him at all after she came down from her high.

Waiting for a few minutes, Y/N pretended to sleep. After the hurricane of emotions he’d given her, Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She wanted to relax, to sleep in bliss, but a part of her ached. She ached for who she used to be. Would her father hate her for what she just did? Would her people denounce her for sleeping with the enemy?

Her eyes opened wide, finding his are still closed. Lips quivering, she felt herself crumble as tears fled her eyes. She watched his sleeping figure and sighed deeply, telling herself to stop crying. She was supposed to be in control of him, to make him want her and crave her, yet she found it was the opposite. She didn’t love him, but she did feel a connection…perhaps it’s the kindness he showed her when he rescued her or the pleasure he had given her, but something inside her changed and the heart she hardened on purpose found a soft spot for the general.

=============================

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Part 8

[jungw8ns]

GOING TO AN ESCAPE ROOM WITH ENHYPEN !

PAIRING: boyfriend!enha x gn!reader. GENRE: established relationship, fluff, crack. WARNINGS: profanity (not that much tho), mentions of death (?). WORD COUNT: 100 - 200 each member.

HEESEUNG:

the two of you were so pumped playing an escape room together for the first time that the other people in line had to calm you guys down (which was trully embarrassing to say the least 🤐🤐)

he was looking at the ranking board filled with pictures of players that had succeeded in the shortest amount of time and he just wanted nothing more than to see both your faces on there

but anyways, we all know how competitive heeseung gets 🕴️

oh boy let me tell you, this guy WAS SPEEDRUNNING IT but not the kind you were thinking

the second the timer had started he was literally SPRINTING AROUND THE ROOM LOOKING FOR CLUES YET COMPLETELY MISSING THEM 🏃‍♂️💨💨💨

while he was busy running around, you were picking up the little details in the room and in no time managed to open a few locks

"y/n look i found– oh 😐😑😐"

HE WAS SULKING PLSSS 😭😭😭

when you noticed him standing from afar staring at you with his arms crossed, you called him to solve this one puzzle you already did

*gasps* "oh no! babe i don't understand how to do this, please help me 😔😔🤥🙏🙏"

he had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from letting out that cocky grin but it got out eventually

"oh it's so easy sweetheart, just put this here and then voila! 😉"

when the two of you escaped you suprisingly got to take a polaroid with him home after ranking 2nd in the records

heeseung was the one who held onto it tho, placing it underneath his clear phonecase for safekeeping <3

JAY:

GOD THIS DUDE

THE ESCAPE ROOM WASN'T EVEN THAT SCARY AND YET EVERYTIME YOU GUYS OPEN A LOCK OR A DOOR HIS FIGHT OR FLIGHT INSTINCTS COME UP 😭😭👊👊

"y/n stay behind me >:(("

"um, babe, you do realize that's just a door right?"

"WE'LL BETTER SAFE THAN SORRY?? THE STAFF COULD'VE PROGRAMMED IT TO GROW LEGS?? 😵🧐🧐"

you knew you shouldn't have played horror games with him a few nights ago cause he looked like he was about to lose his mind 😔

you had to shove his ass aside and move on to the next mission cause the both of you knew that he was stalling 🏌️‍♀️

jay was being extra clingy the whole time you were playing, he'd either link arms with you or hold hands (he's literally so adorable) 💞💞

BUT THEN YOU THOUGHT OF DOING A PRANK ON HIM

while you were roaming around the room trying to solve a puzzle, you saw this horse mask on a nearby table

and so you made sure jay was distracted and put on the mask

you could've NOT worn the dusty old thing but where was the fun in that?

"jay can you come here for a sec?"

you hid behind the wall beside the door frame waiting for him to come into your sight and attacked him

now, how about we guess what happens next?

a. he faints

b. he runs away

or c. he slaps you in the face and forces you to buy him food for the rest of the night

if you guessed c then YAY! YOU'RE CORRECT 🥳🎉🎉🎊

THIS HOE SLAPS YOU AS HE SHOULD

"$##/@+(+'£%(:?!!)&£**/*%@"

when he finally takes off the mask like those scenes in scooby doo he's never felt so betrayed in his life

"i- I TRUSTED YOU 😭😭😭 YOU BETTER BUY ME FOOD LATER, I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS, THE BETRAYAL???? LITERALLY UNPROVOKED?????"

he wouldn't stop side eyeing you until you guys finally pulled up on the mcdonalds drive thru

"hi, can i get two um– bts meals please? 😒😒 and two oreo mc flurries 🙄🙄 and also large fries 😐😐"

sane (1/3)

would be trailing behind you like a little puppy (i love him so much 😭😭😭)

he either has his arm linked with yours or held hands every five minutes

JAKE:

really focused on the puzzles he's doing but the second he hears you call out his name for help he's there beside you with the sweetest smile

but anyways, mans was POPPING OFF the entire time you were playing

he was solving problem after problem in no time (he wanted to impress you is why he activated his inner flash ⚡⚡) but he did let you play tho, the last thing he wanted to do was make you pissed at him for hogging all the games

def buried jake with compliments and forehead kisses right after ❤️__❤️

and so the two of you got out in like an hour and a few which you were very proud of

"you were so cool today babe, good job !!"

"aww thank you angel 😊😊"

sane (2/3)

SUNGHOON:

would be linking pinkies with you the whole time, only letting go whenever the both of you had to solve something that needed two or more people

there was this one game tho where he had to arm wrestle this literal hand lever to open the door to the last room (yea...don’t ask why, the staffs were pretty weird 😬😬) 

it made him enjoy the experience a bit more as it was only the two of you playing instead of getting accompanied by strangers

HGAWAHSGDHSGHDA PLSS THIS GUY

“oh this’ll be easy, y/n step aside, i’ll handle this 😏😏😏”

idk if you were supposed to think about how handsome he looked with his serious expression on and his veiny hands coming into frame or be worried for him because the lever was REAL HARD to pull that his veins looked like they were going to pop any second soon, you stepped in and helped him tho cause you were a good s/o <3

from a spectators point of view, the two of you looked like y’all were about shit your pants but the two of you eventually succeeded on beating it, immediately dragging him to the next room which had a sofa in it, laying down to catch your breaths

cliché moment ahead ⚠️⚠️

the two of you shared a few laughs before standing up on the empty space, held hands and started to jump in circles to celebrate your success 💃💃

yupp, y’all were never going back to that hellhole again

very stubborn at first, he wanted nothing to do with the game but then you held him at gunpoint by saying:

SUNOO:

"please just this once or else i'll revoke your mint choco ice cream rights 🔫🔫🔫"

"BUT IT'S SCARY IN THERE BABE :((("

"it won't be that scary sunshine, besides, i'll be ready to 🤜💥 yk?? trust me babe i would never let anyone hurt you <33"

kinda pissed since you blackmailed him into the place and also bc he wanted to play bumper cars and dance mania but he yea he caved in pretty quick 😋😋

(y/n let him play his games in peace tf >:(((( )

once you guys got in tho he realized how normal it was and that it was not terrifying at all

THE EPITOME OF CLINGY OMFG

he wouldn't stop back hugging you and you couldn't bring yourself to push him away to play the games so you just let him walk behind you with his arms on your shoulders 😩😩

(y'all were walking kinda funny but don't tell sunoo that 🤫🤫🤫)

yea the two of you ended up escaping with a whopping 2 hours and a few minutes

but it was the effort that counts so A+++++ for the both if you 😜👍👍👍

sane (3/3)

JUNGWON:

was the one who suggested going, he even searched on naver about really good escape room places to visit and was overall really looking forward it

he liked going to places and having fun with you so it wasn't a shock how his eyes were literally crescents and his dimples were so evident

yea he literally rushed the both of you to the place that you were the first in line 😵

while waiting for the staff to finish setting up he was playing with your connected hands like 🖐️✊🖐️✊ (so precious 💞💞)

"y/n why are you taking so long 😭😭 what if they close and we end up not solving a single lock, hurry up por favorrr 😩🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏"

when they finally lead you to the room he was kind of surprised that they had separated the two of you into different spaces (like the one with txt where they had the answers to the other member's puzzles yk???)

he was locked inside a telephone stand while you were handcuffed in the main room

dw the two of you reunited after a few minutes cause jungwon was rushing his lock to get to you 🤭

you both were progressing at an average pace and it made you guys a lot more closer (not that you guys weren't before but you get what i mean)

after you guys escaped the two of you went to eat curry and talked about the whole experience 😋✌️✌️✌️

this boy literally dragged you in the escape room with him

NIKI:

HE DIDN'T EVEN GIVE YOU TIME TO REFUSE HE JUST 😐👉🚪

"ok masterchefs, in order to test your abilities we must go through series of puzzles and make it out alive, understood?"

he tried ignoring how confused you were and went on to try and get you guys to escape

HE'S LAUGHING AT YOU FOR WHATEVER REASON AND OBV YOU LAUGH ASWELL CAUSE WHO WOULDN'T??? his laugh is so contagious pls 🤖🤖 he was so close to d wording cause he couldn't breathe from laughing too much

yea.. you guys spent so much time laughing at each other for being so dumb at this that you ended up playing 'till closing time

spoiler alert: he fails on doing anything cause the second you made eye contact with him this child collapses 😍🤩

GIRL SO EMBARRASSING 🤡🤡

THE STAFF KICKED THE BOTH OF YOU OUT AND NOW YOU GUYS WERE BANNED FROM THE PLACE ☠️☠️

"haunted house next weekend???"

"BET"

NOTE – god they were WAY funnier in my head but yeah.... i love them so much AND OMFG HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN HEESEUNG’S SELCAS LAST NIGHT???!?@??#?@?!?@ HE’S NOT REAL WTF ⁉️❓❓⁉️

also, idk why BUT EVERY TIME I SAVE A DRAFT the paragraphs get scrambled?? £!?) 6=6) 🤣😂💔💔🤣🤣😂💔 it's so annoying but anyways, ilysm pls stay safe and have a great day <33

[sigridhawke]

I am truly honoured you have reread Leather and Linen and the side stories 🙏🙏

The doodles are my sincerest thanks for talking about this with me! I love talking about this story and it’s a great reason to share more of them haha I’m glad you’re enjoying them!

I haven’t shared the art on here but I did do a specific piece for my personal copy of the story with Heba and Wadjet, a screenshot from my own playthrough of the scales in the back heh.

Touching a bit on Yugi’s mental state after the apple’s destruction, I feel like family is something he would have never chosen to go back to. He didn’t want his mother to see him in the state that he was in and it was hard for both of them to see each other, but he did try. I feel given the choice, he would have just let himself disappear, and that’s kinda how he feels with any other connections he made outside of the group, he wasn’t ready and he didn't want to put any of them through that if he was.

Down the rabbit hole of more rambling about this fic lol:

If I remember correctly and it has been a while since I looked at my notes, but in my mind Yugi was only around another 5 years once the Apple was destroyed. Which is pretty good given how badly messed his brain was, but at the same time it’s not a long time at all. Ryou does outlive him, goes to his funeral, mourns him, and carries on. He still suffers just not as badly, he can mostly go back to some semblance of the life he had before.

And I think about that a lot too, with their ancestors it was Heba who outlived Bakura, and in the modern day Ryou outlived Yugi. I see their lives so intertwined, the threads crossing over on different beats.

Atem’s Ba did travel a lot. He spent a lot of time in Aaru with Mahad and everyone else, but he did have a routine to come back just in case. It only stops once he brings Yugi into Aaru, next to the front of the tomb caving in, there was no reason for him to go back. The pain for Atem’s Ba too when you remember Mahad’s body was left behind in the tomb without a proper burial (and Atem telling Mahad he would have built a grand tomb for him in Definition of Love) and when Heba’s chamber collapsed and his body fell from his sarcophagus, unable to put him back. I think a lot about Yugi fixing the wrappings and placing Heba back. Honestly I think a lot about Yugi meeting ‘Heba’ in the tomb so much.

I’m so happy the approach with the gods came across as it did <3 I’ve always been fascinated with Egypt and the gods, this was a very self catering story for me to just shamelessly delve into it and a world where belief in the gods is just the norm, while also trying to balance it with a are the gods real are they not, what can they influence that still makes the world feel believable, and that was something i enjoyed a lot particularly writing Atem’s character, because for most of the story I myself did not really know if he was a god, but I wanted the idea that he was to be there.

Then he took the story and decided yes he was and who am I to refuse haha. The story just started coming together so naturally it made sense for them to be real and how many of the characters fit with their own representations of the gods. Bastet was my favourite to have one of the gods actually there and present, but in a way she could have just been another cat. 

I think a lot too about Bastet waking Heba up on Atem’s final day, and her waiting expectantly for Heba to step into Ra’s light and uphold the mantle of Egypt’s pharaoh and what that implied, and holding the millennium puzzle/pendant with the belief for Set that it held the Apple. There was so much pressure on him to do things right (even tho he immediately accidentally cut his own finger off kjdbkjg) I don’t think he could have done it without Mahad and just that inner court who quite literally took that secret to their graves, many leaving no descendents. It was a logistical nightmare with Heba being Atem according to how history was remembered but I’m so proud of this story.

Also my beloved other medjay, Heba having to lie to Baniti killed me cause he became such a father figure to Heba GAWD.

I'm still totally normal about "Leather and Linen," so I thought I'd ask if you have any headcanons about Yugi as a kid. What was he like growing up? Did he make friends in school? If not, was it for the same reason as in canon (especially since Yami wasn't there), or because he knew something was waiting for him? Was he doodling birds and ankhs in the margins of his class notebooks and assuming it was just because of his grandpa's adventures? Did he know what he wanted to be when he grew up?

We can be totally normal about Leather and Linen together 🤝🤝

I have many headcanons about younger Yugi! A lot of which I never had a place in the main story or the extra ones I have written, but I have thought about Yugi a lot.

(Also I accidentally spiraled with this so please enjoy my small rant about Yugi lol)

Because I wanted Jou, Honda, and Anzu to be older than Yugi in this setting and to help establish the fact they had been working within ‘The Tower’ for a longer period of time they were absent from any of his schooling life. 

Instead Yugi began much like canon Yugi began  as the quiet shy nerd playing games with himself, doodling video game characters in the margins of his book. Ryou joined the class as an exchange student, and the duo hit it off. Bonding over their similar vibes and that’s how they spent most of their high school years. 

When university came around the duo did part ways in a sense. Still keeping in contact just not as often as they pursued their own goals, and then Ryou drops off the radar and Yugi can’t get in contact with him, no one seems to know where he is. His search for Ryou kinda falls down his list of priorities when Grandpa passes away and he ended up dropping out of university to deal with the everything going on emotionally. 

He goes job hunting instead, not really sure if he wants to try and tackle university again just yet and when a dream job at a gaming company comes his way he can’t not go for it. But like Ryou the job offering was a front for The Tower to get their hands on their desired individual to shove them in the Animus and practically break their brains to get information about the Apple of Eden. 

Because he was in a different city at the time, his Mother didn’t know he had gone missing (and since his phone was taken too there was fake texts sent too to keep his location hidden)

A little more on the technical soul stuff below the cut:

Up until being thrown in the Animus (and finding Ryou again in the communal hall of The Tower) Yugi had no obvious indications he held the still wandering soul of Heba. Which made it easier for him initially to separate himself from Heba.

Excluding Yugi, all of the descendents are only descendents. The Animus taps into their genetic memory and plays them like an old video tape over and over until the film breaks down.

Yugi however, is a little different. While it is correct to call Yugi Heba’s descendent, Yugi is also Heba. When Heba finally went to the afterlife to be with Atem (and Mahad) he felt like he could not truly be at peace because he did not destroy the Apple of Eden. After much begging Atem did finally let him go, using his power as Osiris to reincarnate Heba who spends the next 3000 years wandering/waiting until he is reborn as Yugi. 

Yugi holds Heba’s soul yes, but the life in which Yugi is brought up in with his Grandpa and Mother shape the person he became. 

The Animus ‘reawakens’ his memories so to speak and a part of him knows he’s suffering more than he should be with reliving Heba’s memories. His biggest struggle is being torn between feeling like Heba is him, while wanting to hold onto and believe he is still Yugi. Why Heba’s ‘ghost’ brings him comfort is because he can visualize that ‘nagging at the back of his head’ and see Heba as an entity separate from himself. 

It takes him a very long time to come to terms with his sense of self even after the Apple is destroyed. He’s still struggling but making progress with that in the afterlife just as Atem and Mahad are coming to terms with their Heba not being the same Heba they remembered. But that doesn’t stop them all from trying and working towards their deserved peace and happiness within their polycule in the afterlife <3

[narcissisticmf]

come back, please | peter pevensie x fem!reader

description: y/n lives in narnia and after the pevensie siblings leave, she feels like her connection with peter was left unfinished. she begs aslan to go see him in his world.

trigger warnings: angst, violence, sword fighting, mentions of anxiety/depression, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: 3.1k

You stood beside Caspian as you watched Aslan stand before the crowd of Telmarines and Narnians. The air was rather brisk that day, you felt your clothed arms grow subtle goosebumps all amongst them. You attempted to avoid eye contact with anyone except Aslan, for you were unable to look to the Pevensie siblings without shedding a tear or two, or many more. You felt Caspian nudge your arm softly with his elbow as a way to comfort you without using words. You forced a small smile to your glossy lips and continued to look at Aslan.

"If any Telmarines wish, I will return you to your forefathers. I'm not referring to Telmar, either. Your ancestors were seafaring brigands. Pirates run aground on an island. There they found a cave, a rare chasm that brought them here from their world. The same world as our kings and queens," Aslan trailed off and continued to explain more about where he would send any of the volunteers.

When he'd mentioned the kings and queens of Narnia, your eyes flickered to the Pevensies. The warmth in your eyes slowly started to grow cold when you locked your gaze with Peter, who looked back at you with a gentle expression. Through your lashes, tears blurred your vision. You felt as though you shouldn't be crying, you did your best to fight it, but the tears continued to trickle down from your waterline, along your cheeks staining your soft skin.

After a family had offered to go through with Aslan's offer, he awaited upon another volunteer. You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing what was coming when Peter stepped forth.

"We'll go," He swallowed thickly, his gaze bounced from Aslan to you.

"We will?" Lucy's voice raised in pitch.

"Come on. Our time's up," Peter released a breath and walked towards you and Caspian. His attention was solely on the prince as he pulled off his sword. "After all, we're not really needed here anymore," He handed the sword over to Caspian who took it in his grasp.

"I will look after it until your return," Caspian spoke with incandescence.

"I'm afraid that's just it," Susan spoke up. You glanced up to her with a knowing expression. "We're not coming back," She finished.

You felt Peter stand before you, but your eyes refused to look up to him. Without making any weeps, hot tears fell down along your flushed cheeks. Your blurred vision caught a glimpse of Peter's hands motion towards your face. His warm palms caressed your wet cheeks, making you finally look up to him.

"Why must you go, Peter?" You released in a soft whisper, nearly inaudible.

"I've learned what I can from this world, Y/N.. it is time for me to live in my own," He spoke gently, a subtle sadness under his tone.

"I will miss you so much," You choked out, in an attempt to keep your voice steady, but you failed miserably.

Peter parted his glossy lips and stared at you with the most comforting gaze you could imagine. He snuck his arms around your shoulders and buried his face into your shoulder, squeezing you tightly. You wrapped your arms around his torso with all the emotional strength you had left in you. You couldn't let go, not until he would first.

"Don't forget me," You whispered, lifting your head up to look at him.

"Never," Peter pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed in response and let the warmth from your forehead spread throughout the rest of your body.

You felt Peter pull away, his fingers grazing across your sides as he stepped back, keeping his eyes upon you as he made his way to stand beside his siblings. Caspian and Susan shared a goodbye beside you, but you continued to watch Peter as he did you.

A burning sensation overtook your eyes as you watched the Pevensie siblings make their way between the trees of which Aslan had made for anyone who wished to go into another world. As soon as they stepped between the trees, they disappeared and you were left with your heart sunken into your stomach. More tears trickled down your cheeks as you stood silently watching the same spot Peter once stood.

More Narnians and Telmarines volunteered to go, but not all. Many people chose to stay. You planned to stay in Narnia with Caspian and the rest of the Narnians. You continued to stand still, watching the same place Peter was last seen before he disappeared.

.

The night was rather cold in Narnia, brisk wind and starry nights. You remained in the same spot for hours on end, still staring at the same tree. You hadn't known why you felt so weakened by Peter's departure, but you knew there was no way you'd be able to cope in any healthy manner.

"Don't you think it is time you get some rest?" Caspian's voice was heard from behind you. You couldn't break your gaze from the trees as more tears begun to fall.

"He's not coming back," You whispered through your parted, dry lips.

Caspian begun to walk up along the steps behind you. He stood to your side and followed your gaze to the same tree. "If it makes you feel any better, I am just as unhappy to know that Susan will not be back either," Caspian stated quietly.

"Knowing we are both miserable makes me even more unhappy," You released a soft breath, feeling emotionally tired.

Caspian sighed and continued to stand beside you, for even his company may do some good for you. After hours upon hours of looking through the trees, you broke your gaze and looked at Caspian. His eyes found yours and your parted your dry lips, breathing slowly.

"I've done enough mourning for one day," You spoke, "Goodnight, Caspian."

Starting down the steps, you walked along the stone of the fortress and headed towards your chamber. With sleep, prehaps, you'd be able to regain some emotional strength for the days to come.

.

The sun's rays snuck through the curtains of your chamber and struck your eyes mildly. You groaned and turned over, in no desire to awaken just yet. Your body felt awfully heavy and the skin around your eyes puffed due to how much you'd been crying.

Slowly, you fluttered your eyes opened and felt the mixture of mucus and tears harden along the inner corners of both your eyes. You took your knuckles and rubbed them away, releasing a deep sigh as you did so. You begun to sit up against the headboard of your bed. You pushed yourself off the mattress and walked barefoot about your room. You quickly changed from your sleepwear to your armor. Although not needed, you decided to practice some sword fighting early that day, in hopes of getting your mind off of Peter.

You pulled your boots on over your barefeet and grabbed your sword from the case at the end of your bed. Hurrying across the hall, you made your way out into the field where many Narnians were gathered. You kept your eyes peeled for Caspian, in hopes of asking him to practice with you.

"You're looking well rested this morning, Y/N," The voice of Caspian was heard from behind you, making you jump.

"Don't creep up on me like that," You scolded softly and watched him chuckling lightly. "Mind practicing with me for a little while? I need to get my mind preoccupied."

Caspian nodded his head, "Allow me to get my sword first." You nodded in response and scurried out further into the field, where you both would maintain a harmless battle away from the rest of the Narnians.

Awaiting in the field, you held your sword by the handle, having the blade kiss the grass. The sun's rays were potent that day, the leather armor against your body grew hot against your skin. When Caspian was seen in the distance with his sword and two shields, you released a breath and felt the adrenaline begin to build.

"We can't fight without shields," Caspian offered a grin as he tossed one to you. You rolled your eyes playfully and held up the shield in your free hand. "Ready?" He asked as he stood relatively far from you.

"Are you?" You offered with an evil glint, swinging the blade towards him as he dodged it with his shield. When Caspian tried to strike you from the head, you bent down so that you'd dodge his hit. You took the opportunity to swing your sword at his feet, causing him to stumble backwards.

You stood straight and watched as he slowly got up, swinging his sword towards you from the left and right. A grunt left your lips when your blade came to contact with Caspian's shield, a spark flew off the metal.

You couldn't help but remember Peter, how you and he would often practice together. Mostly because your sword fighting needed some work, but never directly spoke of that. You missed him truly and it grew harder to come into terms with when you knew you'd never see him again.

Caspian's strike to your blade kicked you from your thoughts. You mentally thanked him for that. You let out another grunt and swung your sword to his, the strike so powerful that it knocked it from his grasp. Caspian looked rather surprised and when you kept swinging, he dodged almost every hit with his shield.

You swung beneath his feet, which caused him to jump, swiftly avoiding your hit. You watched as Caspian reached for his sword upon the grass, making you swing to his shield again.

The both of you froze when you turned to notice Aslan was watching over the field at the top of the castle, overseeing all the Narnians. You released a soft breath and slowly brought your blade down, endless thoughts of Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy ran through your mind. You dropped your sword and begun to run back into the castle.

"Y/N! Where are you going?" Caspian called, but you were already hot upon your feet, too fast to turn back.

You scurried up the stairs, making left and right turns until you'd make it to the top, where Aslan stood overseeing everything and everyone. You needed to take the opportunity you had to speak with him yourself. You opened the doors to the top and looked straight ahead, seeing Aslan still there, before the same tree you spent all of yesterday looking at.

"Aslan," You breathed out and watched as his head turned to look at you. His light green eyes found yours, his mane moved softly with the brisk wind. You made your way towards him and stopped once you came to the edge.

"I see you've been practicing on your skill, dear one," Aslan stated, turning his head toward you.

"I need something to occupy my mind," You bashfully admitted.

"Missing them, are you?" He asked, with concern.

"More than I would like to admit."

"I miss them too, Edmund and Lucy will return eventually, in a few years potentially," Aslan continued to look at you, finding your face was written with distress. "What's the matter, dear one?"

"I must see Peter again," You spoke in a shaky tone. "I want him to come back and be here."

"Y/N, Peter has grown and learned all that he could from this world," Aslan said, his eyes softening.

"Can't I visit him in his world?" You spoke gently.

"Yes, but only for a little while," Aslan breathed out.

"How long?" You whispered.

"Two days of their world and then you will return."

You nodded gently, parting your lips as you stared at Aslan. He nodded in response and motioned towards the trees, the wind picked up in and the leaves rustled against the thin branches. You watched with a mesmerized gaze, keeping your eyes locked with the leaves. The color of the sky faded into a dark grey from a light blue. You squinted softly and turned your head to look before you. The road was slick and droplets from the sky fell rapidly down upon the ground. Puddles overflown against the sides of the road.

Glancing down at your clothing, you noticed you'd been dressed in a maroon colored uniform with your hair now straightened against your shoulders. You parted your lips and turned to look around, noticing how busy the streets were.

Slowly, you stepped forth to make sure no oncoming vehicles would hit you, when both sides of thr street were clear, you scurried across and made it to the other end, seeing that many a persons walked about the concrete. You'd been in Narnia so long that you'd forgotten what the streets were like during the daylight. You questioned if daylight would still be referred to as the same despite the gloomy whether that arose over England.

You turned your head to notice several people were exiting the underground railway station. You felt a nervousness grow deep inside your stomach. The center of your palms produced a thin layer of sweat when your eyes were met with four people you knew all too well in your world. You parted your lips softly and watched as Peter, Edmund, Susan and Lucy came up from the staircase and upon the same sidewalk as you had been upon. You were unsure if they'd recognize you, being so far away.

Your eyes locked with Lucy as she turned her head and noticed you. She had a wide grin upon her face as she reached to tug Peter's sleeve, her gaze never breaking with yours. Your lips formed into the most beautiful smile, shining ever so brightly on such a dull day.

When Peter looked to Lucy, she pointed towards you and her eldest brother followed where her finger led to. When his deep blue eyes fell into your warm ones, he froze in a state of shock, but also great happiness as you could tell his smile was rising. You missed everything of him, his smile, his eyes, his voice, his arms and his incandescent attitude. Susan and Edmund were the last to notice you, smiling happily.

You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, you begun to run towards them with pure excitement running through your veins. The adrenaline ran through you like wildfire, spreading about beneath the surface of your skin. The pit of your excitement lied within your chest, where your heart was palpitating like crazy.

"Peter!" You smiled as he started running in your direction. Behind him, the rest of the Pevensie siblings ran to you. You released inhaled deeply once you were close enough to Peter. His smile was wide as he wrapped his arms around your torso, lifting you up and spinning around with a sweet laugh escaping his lips. You hugged his shoulders and buried your face into his neck.

"Ah! Y/N, I missed you," Peter spoke as though a large weight was taken off of his shoulders.

"I missed you.. all of you," You let happy tears trickle down your cheeks as Peter placed you down onto the concrete. You slowly peeled back from him and took Lucy into a hug, along with Susan and Edmund.

"How did you get back?" Susan asked with a grin to her lips.

"Aslan, I will be here in your world for two days," You released a breath.

"Why two days?" Lucy questioned.

"I suppose it has a lot to do with how much I miss you all.. how terrible it was to let you go the first time.. it'll hurt no less the second time," You sighed gently.

You looked from Lucy to Peter with a softening expression. "If it's okay, I would like to speak to you," You mentioned softly.

"I'll catch up with you, wait at the traffic light for me," Peter looked to Edmund, Susan and Lucy as they all nodded and headed up along the sidewalk. You turned to look at Peter, who was already staring down upon you.

"I couldn't bear it," You released in a gentle breath. Peter offered his hand and you gladly took it, feeling an overwhelming sense of butterflies in your stomach. He lead you to a small bench before the road and you took a seat in it, soon after he did as well.

"Peter, I wish you could come back with me," You admitted.

"I wish I could as well," He pressed his lips together, "But I'm afraid I am just grown too old to go back."

"You're never too old for Narnia," You spoke softly. Peter offered a thin smile and took your hand in his own, entwining your fingers together.

"Come back, please," You felt your eyes brim with tears, "There's so much I haven't gotten to tell you."

Peter gently took his free hand and brushed away the tears from beneath your eyes. "What is it that you haven't gotten to tell me, Y/N?" He whispered and leaned in closer, making the moment much more intimate.

"Two days won't be enough time," You looked up to him.

"Come back, bring Lucy, Susan and Edmund.. Narnia needs you. I need you," You admitted ever so gently. "I'm unsure if Aslan will ever do this for me again, Peter."

Peter rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your fingers intertwind with his own. "There's only one thing Narnia has that I would go back for in a mere second," His voice lowered.

"What is it?" Your eyes flickered up into his own, a deep nervousness kicked back into your stomach.

Peter pulled his head back gently and smiled, his dimples caving in as he did so. You parted your glossy lips and watched as his blue eyes locked with yours. You felt your body move closer to him, not physically, but rather emotionally.

Before you could comprehend it, your lips were overtaken by Peter's. You fluttered your eyes closed in response and gave into the kiss, feeling your lips mold together in the most perfect sync. You felt his chest press against your own. You took the opportunity to cup his cheeks with your palms, feeling pure gaiety within your body. You missed Peter more than you could even begin to explain. You were unsure where else this kiss would lead, but you had no intent to rush there.

.

a/n: hello lovies!! so this may have been one of my favorite things i've ever written. i know it's angsty but those are the types of pieces i love writing the most. i hope you enjoyed this one and who knows maybe i'll write a part two? hmm? haha! anyway, thank you so much for reading! be safe and treat people with kindness. — angelina.

[fairyoftbz]

jealousy | l. hyunjae

🌊 pairing: bf! hyunjae x fem! reader 🌊 wc: 1.9k 🌊 synopsis: at the beach, your mood suddenly swings, and your boyfriend is too oblivious to understand why you're feeling that way. 🌊 genre: angsty fluff, comfort, very cliché, fluffy end 🌊 tw: insecurities, self body-shaming, a petty fight at the beginning 🌊 a/n: yeah I went to the pool the other day and it was pretty much this, except that I didn't have a hyunjae by my side lol... and Spotify played this olivia rodrigo's song a moment after.. but happy birthday to Hyunjae in advance!!! 🥰 🌊 requested: no!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

“What kind of fuckery is that?” you ask yourself when you take a look around you at the beach while Hyunjae was settling your stuff down in the sand, trying not to get too much sand on the cooler. He removed his t-shirt to be more comfortable, girls built like models ogled at your boyfriend’s back and abs, giggling together and biting their lips as they saw his muscles move around.

The beach was filled with slim, fit people, either working out or getting that tan for Instagram. The girls were so pretty and looked like models that could sign with Marc Jacobs, which had the ability to make you even more insecure than you already were. A feeling of uneasiness settled inside your body, especially your heart, who felt heavy with insecurity when you took another great look at the people hanging out around you.

“Here darling, take a seat,” he said as he placed down a wide tablecloth on the sand with your towel on it, thanking him with a brief smile before guiding him to plant the parasol to let you rest in the shade together.

His shoulders and biceps glistened with sweat as he stopped digging to hammer the parasol pole in the sand, rubbing the grains off his fingers to finally sit down next to you. His smile subsided when he noticed you staring into space, gaze on the water, a weary look painted on your face.

“Y/N, is there something wrong? Don’t you want to go in the water?” he quizzed you, not really understanding your mood swing. You were so excited when he offered to go to the beach, and now, you looked sad, almost disappointed to be there.

“You can go ahead, I’ll join you later,” you said as you rested on your back, covering your face with your straw hat.

Hyunjae observed you laying down, frowning as you didn’t even remove your beach dress. Something felt odd, weird. You loved being there and having fun in the water. What was going on?

He looked around to see what could have upset you this much, but he couldn’t find anything. People, friends and couples were laughing and enjoying the sun, just like he had expected you to do with him.

You open your eyes and clench your jaw when Hyunjae lifted your hat off your face, a veil of concern forming in his eyes. Shifting his weight on one hand, the other caressed your upper thigh, the warmness of his palm contrasting with your shivering skin.

“Did I do something that made you mad?” he dared to ask another question, trying to get a glimpse of your thoughts to try to understand what was actually going on. “No you didn’t. I just don’t want to go in the water now, the wind is making me cold,” you lied and Hyunjae sighed, understanding that you wouldn’t share what was on your mind for now.

He kissed your cheek anyway, mouth lingering on your skin a bit longer than usual and stood up, removing his cap and sunglasses while looking at the people around you with a frown. You watch him calmly walk to the water, silently watching the waves crash against his feet, calves and knees the further he walked in the ocean, his glistening back muscles moving as he raised his arms to dive underwater.

You sighed and rolled on your stomach, your back facing the shore as you folded your arms, using the back of your palm as a cheek rest, closing your eyes in the process. A single tear rolled down your cheek, captured by the edge of your sunglasses, followed by many more, letting the insecurities invade your mind. You didn’t even want to look at all the slim, IG models look alike smirking and eyeing your boyfriend up and down as he walked by. You already felt so uneasy to be here, you didn’t want to add fuel to the fire by looking at what you’ve always dreamt to look like being attracted to your partner.

But Hyunjae didn’t even notice those girls. His frown deepened even more when he only saw the back of your body, something quite usual coming from you. You absolutely adored the beach and the ocean, remembering one of your first dates where you told him that the beach - especially at sunset - was your solace, and now you were facing away from this source of comfort. Plus, there were occasions where you came here without really wanting to go in the water, just to enjoy the warmth and the sight of the ocean, happily waving at your boyfriend that was having fun in the water while you stayed in your seat.

He didn’t even notice them looking at him, because his eyes and mind were focused on you and you only, trying to find what had caused you to become this weary and down all of a sudden. He didn’t feel the same when you weren’t looking at him, when you shut yourself out and let your brain overthink on its own, refusing his help. A pinch of discomfort tightened his heart, regretting that he wasn’t as good at reading people as much as he wished to.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, what’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours,” he mumbled under his breath as he got out of the water, still not noticing that the source of your uneasiness were the ones staring at him, a few metres away from him as he walked back to you.

Droplets of salty water landed on your cheek and forearm as Hyunjae bent down to kiss your temple, forcing a tired smile on your face to try and not let anything show on your face.

“Is the water good?” you mindlessly asked as Hyunjae rested on his stomach, just like you, pushing his front pieces of hair back before putting his cap on.

“It’s a bit fresh at first, but once you’re in it, it’s good. You’d love it,” his voice trailed at the end of his sentence, eyes trying to probe your soul and bribe you to join him in the water.

“That’s great,” you nodded and sniffled, handing a bottle of water from the cooler to your boyfriend. He uncapped it but stopped, shifting on his side, resting his weight on his elbow.

“Babe, please, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting strangely since we got here, what’s going on?” he asked, voice ringing with frustration. You briefly looked at him before looking at the ocean, letting out a big sigh.

“Can’t you see anything, Jaehyun? Can’t you see that everyone around me, including you, looks like they just walked out of a Dior photoshoot by how slim and fit and pretty they look? That you have all the girls around us that ogle at you like you’re single? Yes I’m mad, yes I’m insecure, but I have my reasons, don’t you think?” you spat out your insecurities with teary eyes to your boyfriend’s face, who looked at you like he just saw a ghost.

That, was the last thing he had imagined. He never thought that you would get so insecure about this because you looked like the most beautiful girl in his eyes. He was about to speak up, but he placed himself in your shoes for a quick second, insecurities, as well as anger, started boiling in his veins as he imagined men looking at you like a fresh piece of meat.

You started scratching the skin around your thumb, a habit that you picked up when you were stressed and nervous and tears gathered in your eyes as you tried to ignore some girls still looking at and trying to flirt with your man. You wrapped your arms around your knees and pressed your chin on top of it, only to have Hyunjae positioning behind you to have you between his legs, wrapping his arms around your middle to press you against him.

He grabbed your hand to stop you from scratching it and he pressed his mouth against your shoulder, remaining silent as he tried to search for his words.

“No. I didn’t see any of those people, because I don’t care about how they look. I don’t care if the girls look like skinny models or if you find their faces pretty. Do you find the men here handsome ?”

“No,” you said in a wobbly voice, eyes glued to the ocean.

“Why?”

“Because I love you and I only have eyes for you,” you said in a shaky voice and Hyunjae remained in silence for a few seconds, knowing that you were smart enough to get what he was implying.

“So I don’t look at girls because?”

“Because you love me,” you said, voice wavering as tears rolled down your cheeks, Hyunjae holding you close to his chest, trailing salty kisses from your neck up to your cheek.

“Of course I love you, and with all my heart. I wouldn’t be with you if that weren’t the case.”

He grabbed your chin and you shifted to the side, sitting perpendicularly to him. His hands cupped your cheeks to make you look at him and he offered you a gentle smile, his thumbs wiping the paths the tears left on your skin when they rolled down your cheeks.

“I only see you, Y/N. You’re much more than looks, and you can’t say that you are horrible next to them. You are just yourself, someone more honest, prettier and funnier than all those girls around us. They don’t interest me at all, I only care about you. It’s not my problem if they think I’m handsome. As long as you’re in love with me, I'm at my happiest,” he caressed your cheek with tenderness, holding a huge amount of love for you in his eyes. You nodded, trying to make his words imprint in your brain and ignore everything and everyone that was surrounding you, but it was far from being easy.

You delicately touched his cheek and he kissed your inner palm while holding eye contact, assuring you that he only had eyes for you.

“Do you want to go in the water? Yes?” his eyes sparkled with joy as you nodded with a smile, your boyfriend springing to his feet and removed his cap, getting all excited when he watched you remove your beach dress.

“Stop staring at me like that Jae, we’re in public,” you giggled as you threw your dress at him, who hummed your perfume on the fabric before dropping it on your towel.

“I won’t. I want to let everyone know that I only have eyes for you,” he said as he grabbed your hand and started running towards the water, entering it with a big splash and laughter.

You dove underwater to get used to the salty water, reappearing at the surface a few seconds later, Hyunjae smiling at you. He wrapped your legs around his waist and held you close, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss.

“Chill, chill,” you laughed as you pulled away breathless, Hyunjae’s hands caressing your body.

“No, no, I wanna show them that they don’t have a single chance against you. And that you’re taken,” he grunted the last part of his sentence, making you giggle and hugging him close.

“Thank you, Jae,” you mumbled and your boyfriend stares at you with a reassuring smile, pressing his lips to your temple.

“I love you Y/N,” you held eye contact again and Hyunjae was happy to see your smile, kissing your lips the following second.

Gosh, you were so in love with each other.

[the-lonelybarricade]

I totally stole this from one of those writing prompt blogs, but can you do Rhys and Feyre going to couples therapy together as a joke when they only just met?

Okay my love, I literally just finished writing this and haven't actually proofread it. It was meant to be silly and jokey but ended up being a bit more serious than I intended, but I'm a sucker for fake dating tropes so maybe I'll continue their story at some point. Anyway here's a modern Feyre and Rhys going to couples thereapy together (whilst not actually being a couple):

Feyre was absolutely determined to prove Nesta wrong. Usually her sister’s grating comments didn’t penetrate Feyre’s hardened demeanor at home, but something about their stint yesterday had thoroughly gotten under her skin. Nesta had a talent when it came to barbed words, so it was the casualness with which she’d said Feyre was boring and predictable that had kept the words ringing between Feyre’s ears. They lacked the usual bite and venom that was characteristic of Nesta, and somehow that made them impossibly worse.

Was Feyre a creature of habit? Sure. But she had always been content with her quiet, unassuming life. They’d grown up poor, with little luxury, and as a little girl Feyre had always believed all she’d need to be happy was paint supplies and enough time to get lost in a blank canvas. Feyre had that now, and she was happy. She spent almost every day in her studio, a paintbrush in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. And that was fine. She may not spend a lot of time with other people, but that was fine.

Routine is fine. Being focused on your career is fine. So why did the implication that her life is stagnant rile her up so much?

Feyre couldn’t articulate what, exactly, had bothered her so much, since she was perfectly happy with the current state of her life. Yet the next morning she’d woken up, vowing to take a day off and spend the whole day being entirely unpredictable.

She was going to pull a Jim Carrey in Yes Man. She was going to seize this damn day. And any voice in her mind that pleaded her to stick to her comfort zone was going to be diligently ignored.

When she set out to get her morning coffee, she ducked into the first cafe she came across without checking the reviews. And instead of ordering her usual chai latte, she asked the cashier to make her their favorite drink. She sat at a booth and sipped it experimentally. It was sweet and tasted of caramel; she decided she quite liked it. So far so good.

She sat wondering what brave venture she should do next, something that would be worthy of telling people about. Something so brash and crazy and unexpected Nesta would eat her stupid, truthful words.

“Mind if I take this seat?”

The voice was like smooth velvet. Feyre glanced up to meet a pair of eyes that were such a deep, peculiar shade of blue they almost looked violet. She was momentarily stunned speechless, which caused the impossibly handsome stranger to lift one of his perfectly groomed brows in question.

“Of course,” Feyre answered, her mouth feeling a bit dry. She quickly took a sip of her coffee to quell this strong reaction her body was having to this man.

She’d been expecting him to take the chair to sit elsewhere, but he slid into the chair at her table, directly across from her. Feyre spared a cursory glance around the cafe. Customers milled about, but there were plenty of empty seats strewn here and there. It was far from necessary to share a table with a stranger.

Her interest piqued, Feyre turned her attention back to this strange, alluring man.

“I’m Feyre,” she said, sounding much more confident than she felt. But today was about branching out of her comfort zone. Making the first move with an attractive man certainly qualified.

“Rhysand,” he answered with a charming grin, extending his hand into the space between them. Feyre accepted it with a mirrored smile, for a moment marvelling at the way his hand completely enveloped hers.

Feyre cleared her throat. “So tell me, Rhysand, what brings you to this table in particular?”

The way he wrinkled his nose was unfairly endearing. “Call me Rhys,” he said. “I only really use Rhysand in a business setting. And I chose this table in particular, because I saw a beautiful woman sitting here and was feeling especially forward.”

Feyre laughed in surprise. “Forward, indeed. Well, Rhys, I have spectacular news for you.”

“And what’s that, Feyre darling?” the suggestive tone to his voice sent shivers down her spine and instantly those warning bells in her mind were blaring. This man was too handsome and he was a complete stranger.

“I’ve decided to do something completely stupid and spontaneous today, and you’re officially invited to join me.”

Rhysand grinned, his eyes flickering with mischief at her proposal. She supposed that should be concerning, too, but she felt her pulse quicken. “And what stupid, spontaenous thing will we be doing, darling?”

Feyre leaned back, trying to regain composure by taking a too casual sip of her coffee. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m open to ideas.”

Across the cafe, a man stood up so quickly his chair tipped over with a loud thunk. Rhys and Feyre both whirled their heads at the commotion.

“This is why we need to go to therapy together!” the woman across from him screeched. “You can’t control your stupid temper!”

“I don’t have time for this shit,” he growled. “I’m not going to sit there for an hour so you can manipulate some dumb bitch into agreeing with you!”

“It’s not about sides,” she groaned. “I want to work through this with you!”

Feyre felt a tug of sympathy at the desperation in the woman’s voice. She could feel her pain and frustration second-hand, having been in similar shoes herself.

“Fuck this,” the man grumbled, storming for the door.

The woman followed after him. “Our appointment is in 10 minutes! Please, let’s just try it.”

The door swung shut behind them. Feyre watched the couple continue their walking argument down the city pavement, gesturing wildly with their hands.

Feyre sighed. “Man, that poor woman. It sounded like she really wanted to work things out.”

“That guy sounded like an absolute ass, maybe it’s for the best,” Rhys said. Then, his eyes lit up and he turned to Feyre with a slow, conspiring grin. “It does give me an idea, though.”

“What’s that?” Feyre felt a bit intimidated by the roguish expression on his face, even if it did make her feel breathless.

“Well, I do happen to know there’s a psychiatrist's office right above this cafe. If I had to guess, that’s where our friends were going to have their first session. And from the looks of it,” he nodded towards the couple, who were now striding in opposite directions through the city, faces flushed with anger, “they won’t be attending.”

“And your point is…?”

“Let’s go in their stead. Make a game of it. First person to break character loses.”

“And what does the winner get?”

“Well, if I win, then I get to take you to dinner.”

Feyre considered for a moment. Dinner with a handsome man certainly didn’t sound like losing to her. “If I win, then I get to use you as a model.”

“You’re a photographer?” His brows rose in interest and Feyre summoned all her will power not to blush. Since when was she bashful about her career?

“Painter.”

Rhysand grinned. “If you win, you can use my body anyway you wish, Feyre darling. Nude would be best.”

And that was how Feyre had ended up in Dr. Suriel’s office, Rhys by her side on the sofa. It was perhaps the most adventurous thing she’d ever agreed to.

“So, Mr and Mrs Mandray. Apologies, I didn’t get your names on the forms.”

“I’m Feyre, this is my husband Rhys,” Feyre answered, thinking it lucky they didn’t have to guess at the mysterious couple’s forenames.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Feyre and Rhys. What brings you to my office today?”

Rhys immediately slipped into his role of the concerned husband. He placed his arm around Feyre’s shoulders and tugged her close. Rhys opened his mouth, then shut it, glancing at Feyre hesitantly.

“My wife and I have been getting into a lot of… disagreement lately,” Rhys answered carefully, and already Feyre thought this was going much better than it would have if the actual Mr Mandray had turned up.

“My husband,” Feyre said flatly, channeling her inner Nesta to put venom into the word. “Is insisting on painting our house purple.”

“I see,” Dr. Suriel says, assessing the displeasure on Feyre’s face. “And I’m assuming you want to paint the house a different color.”

Feyre pressed her lips into a thin line. “See, that’s just the problem,” she said, crossing her arms. “That’s exactly the color I would want to paint our house.”

Dr. Suriel frowned. “So you do want the house to be painted purple, as does your husband. Am I understanding that correctly?”

“No,” Feyre sighed. “He wants to paint the house blue, but is insisting we paint it purple, because he knows it’s what I want. This bastard refuses to be anything but accommodating.”

“We’re going to try to refrain from name-calling in my office,” Dr Suriel said calmly. “So, Feyre, you are clearly unhappy that Rhys wants to paint the house purple. What color would you paint it?”

“Blue,” she answered. “I know it’s what he secretly wants to paint it.”

“She doesn’t see the hypocrisy in what she's saying!” Rhys complained. Then, he turned to Feyre, looking impossibly serious. “Darling, I know you want to paint the house purple, and I already told you I’m fine with it.”

Feyre groaned. “I don’t want to paint the house purple! I want to paint it blue.”

“You’re only saying that because you think I want to paint the house blue.”

“Do you?”

Rhys hesitated. “No.”

“Don’t lie in front of our therapist,” Feyre said with narrowed eyes. “We promised to tell the truth while we’re here.”

“Then you tell me the truth, Feyre. Do you genuinely want the house to be painted blue?”

Now it was Feyre’s turn to hesitate. She could see the corner of Rhysand’s mouth twitch as she did so. “No. I mean yes! I do!”

“It sounds like at the heart of this argument, you are both ultimately concerned in pleasing the other person, is that fair to say?”

Feyre and Rhys glanced at each other, then nodded in agreement.

“Do you think there’s a color you could both compromise on, so that you don’t feel as if your partner is the only one making a sacrifice in this decision?”

Feyre met Rhysand’s brilliant violet eyes. In truth, she’d blurted the color purple because she’d been thinking about the color of his eyes. She'd never seen eyes that color, and they were wonderfully vivid. Feyre was lost thinking of painting a world in a monocrhome of violet, like a city that lived within his gaze.

Feyre realized she’d been momentarily swept away, snapped out of it by the humor that washed behind those starry irises. She blinked back the haze and tried to think of an answer to the question.

“Mustard yellow?” she proposed.

Rhys pursed his lips in mock consideration. “Mustard yellow,” he agreed with an emphatic nod of approval.

Dr. Suriel blinked in surprise. “All right, well I’m pleased we could solve that issue. Is there anything else you’ve been arguing about?”

“Yeah, actually. My wife,” Rhys gave Feyre a pointed glance. Somehow, despite being strangers, hearing Rhys refer to her as his wife sent waves of pleasure jolting through her. She felt her stomach flip on itself. “Isn’t satisfied with our sex life.”

Feyre instantly flushed at such an accusation, however fabricated.

“Is this true, Feyre?” Dr. Suriel turned her eyes towards Feyre and she shifted uncomfortably at having to make up stories about her sex life with Rhys. Making Feyre imagine rolling in a bed with him was certainly his goal, and she’d lie to say it wasn’t affecting her. Rhysand looked absolutely delighted to have made her squirm. Fine. Two could play at his game.

“Y-yes, well,” Feyre stuttered, the burning in her cheeks condemning. “I keep telling Rhys that 16 orgasms in a session is excessive. He’s much too generous a lover and he never lets me give as good as I get.”

Feyre felt satisfied with the way Rhysand’s face went crimson.

Dr. Suriel’s brows rose. “This seems to be a common theme in your marriage. Rhysand, would you say that you’re often prioritising Feyre’s desires over your own?”

“I think Feyre sorely underestimates how much pleasure I take from satisfying her desires,” he answered, his eyes flicking to Feyre with enough of a sensual promise that her heartbeat turned staccato.

“Rhys, it sounds as though your generosity is part of the way you express your love, is that safe to say?” Rhys nodded. “And Feyre, it seems as if you have trouble accepting your husband's generosity, both in and outside the bedroom. Do you feel that’s a fair statement?”

“I-I suppose so.”

“Sometimes people have trouble accepting their loved one’s generosity when they feel like they aren’t giving something in exchange. It can be hard to accept that kind of love when we don’t feel like we deserve it. Do you feel like this could apply to your situation?”

Feyre blinked. This was meant to be a gag, something daring and experimental. She hadn’t expected to be psychoanalyzed by Dr. Suriel, or at least for her analysis to hit so close to home.

Rhysand shifted forward on the sofa. “Is this true, darling?” he asked, sounding concerned. He took Feyre’s hands in his own, brushing his thumb along her skin as he met her gaze. “I think you deserve the world.”

She would almost think he was being genuine if she hadn’t met him only an hour ago. Feyre marked the conviction on his face, those burning pools of earnesty in his eyes, and marveled at what an incredible actor he was.

Somehow she ended up blurting part of the truth. “My family life growing up was kind of tough and I’ve never really known what unconditional love was like. I think a part of me still believes it's something I have to earn.”

“That sounds like it must have been very hard, Feyre. But it sounds like Rhys loves you very much, and that this is an issue the two of you can overcome together. When you feel the instinct to reject his generosity, try to remember where that message is coming from. And Rhysand, try to keep in mind that this is something your wife is still working through, and be patient if she feels more comfortable giving you something in exchange. This is her way of expressing love, too. At the core of your issues is both of you thinking about the other person, try to remember this when a breakdown in communication occurs.”

Somehow they’d lost control of their therapy session and were receiving actual therapy, which wasn’t part of the plan at all. But somehow, despite not actually being married to Rhysand, what Dr. Suriel said was reassuring.

Feyre turned to Rhys and smiled. “I think I understand better, now. You’re free to give me as many orgasms as you want, honey.”

Rhys grinned fiendishly. “And I’ll let you reciprocate in whatever way you feel comfortable, darling.”

Dr. Suriel clasped her hands together in approval. “Excellent. I think so long as the two of you take measures to accurately communicate your needs, you’ll find these breakdowns will occur less frequently. And that’s it for our time today, but I am happy to have the two of you back any time.”

Feyre walked out of the session hand-in-hand with Rhys, feeling a bit dazed. It had certainly gotten more serious than she’d expected, but perhaps her judgement had been misplaced in thinking therapy could be anything other than serious, no matter how joking the complaints.

“Well, that was certainly stimulating,” Rhys quipped once they’d left the office.

“And it seems we’re at a draw, considering neither of us broke character.”

“You do play my wife convincingly well,” Rhys practically purred, “perhaps I’ll let you take up the real role, if you feel so inclined.”

Feyre laughed. “I’m expecting a few other offers to come through. Give me a few days to look over the applicants, then I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay, well how’s this. I’ll give you my number, you can wait until all those applicants come back to you, and once you’ve decided that I’m clearly the obvious choice, you can call me.”

Feyre smiled as she pulled out her phone and handed it to him to insert his number. “You do make a very convincing husband. Perhaps I can hire you for weddings and Thanksgiving dinners?”

“Real husband, fake husband, a partner to do spontaneous, outrageous things with. You call me, and I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Feyre.”

It was perhaps the strangest and most generous offer she’d ever been given. When they parted ways, Feyre thought that she’d certainly filled her quota for an interesting story to tell. And maybe, most likely, she’d be calling that number very soon.