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asapeveryday · 15 days

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SHOCK FACTOR ★彡PART 5

Prev. Next.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: a lot of media attention and some solo time isn’t enough to keep paige away from you.

A/n: one more chap after this then we done 😛

YOU WAKE UP with a pounding headache, not as engulfing as last night but still enough to induce a groan as you lift your head from your pillow.

The hotel-white pillowcase is smeared with residual makeup and your hair feels tangled and unruly. It was surprising how well you slept, seeing as multiple things had happened the night before that should’ve kept you up till morning. You look around to see the hotel room is empty, then check your phone for the time. It’s 1:34pm, you’ve slept into the afternoon.

Your phone is absolutely filled with notifications.

JUJU-KINS😘

U up?

Coach is lit tweaking rn

U bouta be getting media trained FOR LIFE

ELAINEY 🤞

hey

can we talk pls?

ur only in town for a couple more days

it’s not as bad as it seems i swear

i was drunk

COACH

Call me when you see this message.

I hope you already know what you’ve done wrong so I don’t have to waste my time.

You’re smarter than this!

Collapsing on your bed again, you bury yourself in the sheets. Being in Connecticut had just turned out to be a nightmare, you’ve barely interacted with your teammates, your friendship with Elaine was ruined, you’ve had the most confusing relationship with Paige and you’ve made a fool of yourself online.

You shoot a quick text to Juju as well as some other teammates who’ve checked up on you, being sure to ignore Elaine’s texts. You find yourself re-reading your messages with Paige, thankfully your drunk brain hadn’t texted anything too out of pocket, and though you clearly remember her typing after your last message she hadn’t responded since then.

Your call with Coach was the most dreaded of all, you truly respected and feared her, so sitting through an almost half-hour phone call about your responsibilities, failures, expectations and repercussions was awful.

In short, you were to be off of social media until back in state, live privileges were fully revoked, if you were to be found partying and clubbing you’d be in massive trouble, you had to issue a statement on Instagram and twitter (which was pre-written by some professional), and the next practice you participate in will be the worst practice you’ve ever experienced in the history of bad practices. Most probably an insane amount of sprints.

You release your statements on Instagram and Twitter, but before deleting the apps you check out Paige’s comments. She’d obviously received a similar order. Her Instagram story consisted of a black screen and a small box of text, simply entailing how spreading love and positivity while uplifting other players is an obligation she intends to follow from this point onwards.

Her twitter had two new tweets:

paigebueckers1 : Me and (Name) have had some truly special experiences in college basketball. She’s an amazing player who is only gonna go higher and get better as she grows. When I was a junior I was stuck in crutches hoping for the chance I have now. (Name) as a junior herself is absolutely killing it on the court and I for one will always be rooting for her, competitive comments online or not. Keep doin what you’re doin @yourusername !

paigebueckers1 : God is good! 🙏

Turning your phone off, the only thing you’re thinking is ‘you’re so full of shit.’

You wonder if she wrote that herself or if somebody wrote it for her and made it seem like it was her own typing. Regardless, it didn’t matter anymore. You’d had your experience with the Big East Champion, and it was enough for a lifetime.

The amount of content coming out regarding you and Paige was insanely overwhelming. Debates online regarding your skills, looks, personality and basically anything the public can grasp were rampant. You and Paige had been a bit of a scandal ever since she shaded you on that panel, and the media had been seriously following you two back and forth between the seemingly friendly interactions and more hostile ones.

Eventually you stumble upon something different. A video of you and Paige in the background of KK and Ice’s live that day in the coffee shop. You can see yourself fumbling with napkins, and Paige approaching. It’s almost entrancing to see everything play out from another perspective, to see how her face eases into a smile at your smartass comments, to relive your own amused emotion at her stare, to watch Paige speedily write her number on a napkin before the camera shifts and the live ends.

You’re unsure how to react to all of this. No matter how close or far you could get with Paige, would it ever amount to anything? To the slightest bit of trust? Her lips were almost on yours that evening in the street, but just an hour earlier she had lied to your face about knowing Elaine.

You recall what Elaine drunkenly spat out during your argument outside the bar.

“N’ I’ll tell you what. She’s going to play your ass and you’re never gonna get over it, cus that’s what she does.”

Was this spoken out of experience, or a mixture of jealousy and intoxication? Had Elaine once been that girl on the street, inches away?

You can’t help but think it wasn’t the case. Paige bit her tongue around you to stifle a laugh or to hold back a rebuttal to your teasing. When it came to Elaine, Paige bit her tongue in a different way. A loathing way. You couldn’t explain it.

Plus, Elaine had said herself that you were not Paige’s usual type. If she meant you and her were not alike, that was the truth. You and Paige had more of a history, more similar lifestyles and experiences, more. At least you assumed so.

Finally, you decide you’ve done enough thinking for the day. It was time to line up some plans, maybe meet up with the team for a couple hours and then hoop solo in the evening. Anything to distract from the situation.

The sound of a basketball against the blacktop, the hollow bounce that always found itself back to your hand. It’s sustenance to you, it’s breathing.

Storrs had been blessed with a hotter Sunday then usual, even in your shorts and t-shirt you were sweating, shooting hoops the same way you’ve been doing since you were a child.

The court was empty and outdoors, perfect for you to hold the ball for a moment and admire the scenery, the changing colours of the sky as afternoon fades to evening.

You hear the bounce of a ball again, but yours is secured in your hand.

“Hey.”

You’re not surprised to see her. The sink in your stomach as you meet her eyes in almost predictable.

“What are the chances.” You scoff. “Don’t you have like, the entire UConn gym to hoop?”

“I come to this court all the time.” Paige narrows her eyes. “It’s usually peaceful.”

“I figured.” You say curtly, turning your head to see the setting sun. It was very peaceful, even with the impending silence between you and the blonde.

“How drunk were you last night?” Paige asks.

You spin around to give her a look. “Drunk enough to get on live,” You scoff. “but sober enough to read a text and send it without regrets.”

At the mention of your short conversation with Paige over text, you can see her cringe. She obviously hadn’t been expecting you to find out about her relationship with your friend, let alone be so upfront with it.

“I never fucked her in my car…just so you know.” She finally manages to breath out.

You almost bark out a laugh at this. “You think I’m mad cus you fucked her?” You ask, walking towards Paige and lightly dribbling the ball. She simply stares at you, mouth slightly agape.

“Are you not?”

“Is the blonde fucking seeping into your head?” You snap, mentally celebrating as her lips forms a straight line. “If you don’t know, you better figure it out.”

Paige brings a hand to her face, rubbing her forehead as if it’s aching. Her eyes are wide and analyzing you, thinking of the best way to respond.

“Go on,” you tease her. “tell me why I’m mad.”

You’re close to her now, too close for comfort. You can see her smile lines, her plush lips, her silver chain glinting beneath the black long sleeve she’s wearing. The sleeves are rolled up, and you can’t help but noticed how veiny her arms are, how her long fingers are holding the basketball against her body.

Biting her lip, Paige finally responds. “You’re mad because I lied.”

“Smart girl.” You scoff, almost choking on your breath when her jaw clenches at your comment. “I’m mad cus you lied to my face. And cus you went on live and shit talked me again for no reason.”

You and her stare at each other for a long moment before she breaks a smile. “That was my bad.” She murmurs. “I was uh, Ion’ know. I was in sum kinda mood.”

“The mood to lie?” You raise your eyebrow. “Or the mood to be a bitch?”

“Don’t call me a bitch.” She scowls, and you’re reminded of the last time you called her that, at the end of your game against UConn.

“That’s what you are, Bueckers.” You say with a smile, eyeing her down and getting in her face just a little more. “Bitches lie, bitches make problems out of nothing.”

Her eye is fiercely trained on you, on the way your lips move as you degrade her. You can’t tell what she’s thinking in the slightest.

“(Name), I’m sorry.” She says softly.

Once again you two are staring in silence. The proximity is intoxicating, you can practically smell her clean clothes.

“Are you still fucking Elaine?”

“Hell no.” Paige shakes her head furiously. “That ended a while ago. We haven’t talked in like months.”

“She still has your location.” You grumble. “That’s how she knew I was with you at the restaurant.”

“Shit.” Paige groans, immediately pulling out her phone. “She interrupted us on purpose then? Psycho.”

You watch as she turns off her location for Elaine and blocks her before slipping her phone back in her pocket.

“We didn’t hookup for long.” Paige says, obviously feeling the need to explain herself. “Jus a couple times. I broke things off, she couldn’t accept how busy my schedule was.”

You shrug, not knowing what to say.

“Guess she couldn’t accept you and me either, huh?” Paige smirks, shooting you a ‘forgive me’ type look.

Ignoring the swell in your heart at the stupid comment, you just chuckle and shake your head.

“Do you wanna 1v1?” She asks almost sheepishly.

You think for a moment.

“You sure I’m on your level?”

Paige looks embarrassed for a moment, remembering what she said on her live. “Quit playin.” She rolls her eyes. “C’mon, show me what you got.”

You’d be lying if you were to say you knew the score.

Was she taking score? You and Paige were equally insanely competitive, but this wasn’t a true test of skill. This was a test of endurance. A test to see who would break first.

You knew this when her hand grazed your waist as she darted past you to the other end of the court, or when she stared you down, tongue between her lips as she blocked your shot. You retaliated yourself, letting your hand linger a bit too long as you helped her up from the ground after tripping her up, or whistling at her as she makes another three.

The heavy breathing, the piercing stares, the cold air as the sun disappeared. You were in a zone you’d never been in before, somehow equally focused on the game and the girl.

You manage to steal the ball from Paige in a swift moment, but suddenly she’s in front of you again. Her hands dart for the ball, attempting to smack it out of your hand. She almost manages to steal it back, but your grip tightens just at the right moment.

She’s stuck to you, her hands attempting to pry the ball out of your own. You can hear her breath, you can see the beaded sweat on her forehead, you can feel her blue eyes watching you, watching your chest widen and shrink with every inhale and exhale, watching your lips.

It’s a replay of the college game that started all of this.

You struggle for a moment longer before the tousle is not longer controlled, the ball slips between both of your sweaty hands. You and Paige both scramble to save it, but it bounces out of your grasps and away from the court.

Neither of you chase after it.

She’s still up close to you, face flushed from the game.

“What was the score?” She huffs, out of breath. Paige’s voice is raspy and tired. You feel something spark inside of you.

“No clue.”

Paige’s face breaks into a small smirk as her hands find your waist, uncertain and soft, just barely ghosting your frame. “That was my ball.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, your heart hammering at the feeling of her eyes exploring every part of you, lingering on your lips before she finally leans in.

Paige’s lips are rough against yours, but fit perfectly as if moulded for your own. She melts into you, her hands finally tightening around your body, her face tilting just right so she can finally taste you. It’s something you didn’t know you’d been waiting for. She kisses with a million emotions, with urgency, passion and the slightest bit of control. It’s electrical.

When you need to break the kiss to breath, you simply tug on her ponytail. You were not expecting the slight whimper as your lips part.

“M’ not done.” She mutters against you, catching her breath.

“I want you, P.” You whisper, looking up at her. Paige’s face immediately changes at this, lips tilting upward in an annoyingly charismatic way.

“I know you do, baby.” She murmurs. “Let me take you home.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #rpf #rivals to lovers #paige x reader #uconn women’s basketball #f/f #series

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abandoned-anemoia · 4 months

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Nightmares

☯ Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!reader ☯ Genre: smut, a little fluff ☯ Word count: 2.4k ☯ Summary: When your reoccurring nightmare gets the best of you, you search for comfort in Seungcheol's presence. ☯ Warnings: nightmares, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), multiple positions, oral (f! receiving), restraint, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby. slut) ☯ A/N: Please Let me know if I need to add any warnings! ☯Disclaimer: None of my work represents any of the idols included in any way. This is merely fictional and all based on my opinion as a joke! I have nothing against any of these idols and love them all dearly.

Please do not copy, translate, or post as your own!

Keep running. Keep pushing forward. That's all you could tell yourself as you sprint through the empty streets of a dead end town. You're not sure what exactly you're running from, but the fear that flows through you doesn't allow you to stop moving.

Glancing behind you, you see a dark figure speeding toward you. You know that if it catches you, that is the end. You try to scream but no sound escapes your body. No matter how hard you try to scream for help, for anyone to save you, your voice can't be heard.

It's closer now. You can hear the wispy hissing and unbearable screeching getting louder. The panic rises in your chest as you force yourself to keep running. It's going to get you. To kill you. You can do nothing to stop it.

It's cold breath is on your neck in mere seconds. Then it's in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. Dark sockets are all that exist where its eyes are meant to be. It's staring at you. Waiting for you to make your next move.

Your eyes snap open, body jolting up into a seated position. Hands clenching the sheets at your sides as cold sweat rolls down your face, chest rising and falling in rapid succession as you try to catch your breath. The time on the clock reads 1:06 A.M.

It's the same nightmare, every time. The dark figure never actually gets you. You just wake up when you know it's about to. Almost as if your body knows when to wake you up.

You can't go back to sleep right now, the nightmare will just start over. Knowing this, you sigh, sliding out of the bed. Not bothering to change clothes, you grab a jacket from the chair sitting in front of your small desk and leave your bedroom.

Slipping on your shoes that are tucked next to the front door of your apartment, you grab your keys and head out. Maybe a walk will clear your head. Some fresh air might help calm you down enough to sleep again.

Your brain didn't have a destination planned but your body did. The walk to his place feels familiar, almost as if your body is on autopilot—searching for comfort in the one person who never fails to provide it.

That's how you end up in front of his apartment door, staring at the white panels before knocking on the door. You feel guilty, knowing he will be asleep this late at night and you'll be waking him up.

Before the guilt can make you head back to your own apartment, the door opens to reveal a very dazed Seungcheol, clad in a black tee and gray sweats. He blinks repeatedly, trying to wake himself up and focus his eyes, squinting at your figure for a moment before he realizes who you are.

As he takes in your disheveled state, he ushers you inside, quickly pulling you into his arms. One hand rests on the back of your neck while the other presses against your back, pushing you flush against him. His voice is gentle when he speaks, hand rubbing your back soothingly, "What's wrong, Princess?"

Your hands grip his shirt at his sides. Taking a deep breath in, you let his scent fill your senses. The dull smell of birch wood with a rosy undertone—that perfect mix of floral and musk. His scent and the added warmth of his body against yours serves to calm your nerves enough to answer, "Nightmare."

Seungcheol hums in response, "Don't worry. I've got you."

He plants a kiss on the top of your head, his hands coming to squeeze your biceps before gently pushing you away from his body, "Come on. Let's get to bed."

Seungcheol pulls your jacket down your arms, hanging it next to his door while you slip your shoes off. You quietly allow him to guide you through his apartment and to his bedroom.

Still slightly on edge, afraid the nightmare will resurface, you sit on his bed as he moves to the other side. He lifts the covers, crawling underneath them, hand reaching over to you to run his fingers across your back, "Lie down. I promise I won't let anything get you."

Seungcheol knows about your recurring nightmare. You'd told him about it one night when you woke up gasping for air and scared him shitless. He had been nothing but understanding then and he is nothing but understanding in this moment—when you've shown up at his door in the middle of the night.

Giving in, you slip under the covers next to him, resting your head on the pillow. You both stay silent, not touching but simply staring at one another.

It's you who breaks the silence, guilt overcoming you once again, "I can't sleep."

Seungcheol responds with a tight-lipped smile, "Anything I can do to help?"

You shrug, not knowing what would get the image that is burned into the back of your eyelids to go away. His eyes are droopy and filled with sleep, but you know he won't fall asleep while you're still awake.

He shuffles closer to you, one arm resting under his head, the other crossed over his body. Your faces are so close now that you can feel every breath he takes, his nose almost touching yours. His hand comes up to run along your cheek as he moves closer, lips ghosting over your own.

You take the chance to close that final gap between the two of you, lips softly pressing against his. The hand that was once on your cheek, slowly moves down to your hip, pushing you onto your back as your lips move together.

Seungcheol's legs encase your body under his own when he moves to hover over you, his elbow resting next to your head to hold himself up. His tongue runs across your bottom lip as his hand sneaks under your shirt to rest on your bare hip. The kiss steals your breath, his lips aggressively moving against yours.

You grab the bottom of his shirt and tug at the fabric. His lips part from yours for a moment as he pulls the shirt over his head, carelessly tossing it to the floor before diving back in to kiss you again. Hands running under your shirt as the kiss heats up, he barely lets your lips part when you lift your body for him to slip your shirt off.

He nestles himself between your legs, his hips pressing against yours. His lips find their way to your neck, slowly moving down your chest, leaving sloppy open mouth kisses along the way. Rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he swirls his tongue around the other causing you to let out a sigh.

A string of split trails from your nipple to his mouth when he pulls away and replaces his other hand with his mouth, sucking the other nipple into his mouth. Fingers running through his hair, your breathing stutters when he grinds his hips into yours, feeling his bulge through his sweatpants.

His mouth trails down your body, planting a kiss on your lower stomach. Thumbs slipping under the waistband of your bottoms and underwear, his fingers pressing into your skin before pulling both pieces of fabric down your legs.

Kissing his way up the inside of your thigh, he looks up at you from between your legs. Your breath hitches in your throat when his eyes meet yours as his own breath hits your clit. Whining at the lack of contact, you wiggle your hips only causing Seungcheol to let out a dark chuckle, "What do you want, Princess?"

He's so close to you, every word out of his mouth causing a shiver to run up your spine, "Please."

"Please, what? Use your words, Sweetheart." You can't see the smirk on his face but you know it's there. Pausing for you to give him the answer, he swipes his tongue over your clit, "Come on, Princess, say it."

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth before answering, "Please, fuck me."

He flattens his tongue over your core before slipping it between your folds. Finally getting what you want, a loud moan escapes your lips. Your hips move to meet his mouth before he moves one arm over your hips, holding them against the mattress as his tongue delves deeper into your throbbing pussy.

Sucking on your clit and lapping desperately at your folds, he presses you further into the mattress. Eyes closed, breathing labored, and legs shaking as he devours you.

Heat coils in your stomach, fire burning through your body as you whimper, not being able to form words. Seungcheol quickly notices the change, shoving his tongue back into you, nose bumping against your clit as he purposely moves his head. The fire in the pit of your stomach swells, your whole body growing hotter, your moans growing louder and louder. A choked sob leaves your mouth when he curls his tongue into you, whole body shaking, making you want to scream as you reach your high.

His chin glistens when he pulls away from you, breathing heavily as he climbs up your body and attaches his lips to yours. You moan when tasting yourself on his lips. Your hands roam to his body, palming him through his pants, making him release a moan into your mouth and grind into your hand.

Quickly pulling his whole body away from yours, he pushes his sweats off before settling his hips back against yours. The tip of his dick hitting your sensitive clit as he drags it across your soaking pussy.

Squirming underneath him, you silently beg for him to do something. His hands run from your thighs to your ankles, grabbing them and folding your legs over on yourself. He holds your ankles together with one hand, your knees pressed to your chest as he lines himself up.

You feel the tip of his cock slipping between your folds, slowly easing into you to allow you time to adjust to his size. Hands gripping the sheets as he wastes no time pulling out and slamming back into you. He kisses your calf as he thrusts into you, hips slapping together.

His thumb presses against your clit, lighting a fire under your skin. Crying out when he picks up pace, your body shaking at the sensation filling your body, you search for anything to hold onto, hand frantically grabbing at the sheets and pillows before you hand lands in his hair, grabbing onto the strands for dear life. The moans leaving you get louder the closer you get to your release. Seungcheol's grunts and moans fill your ears. You know he won't last much longer as his hips start to stutter with every thrust bringing him closer to his high.

"Cum for me, baby." His breathy tone brings you closer to your release.

His hips slow down but his thrusts get more aggressive, pounding into you harshly, thumb rubbing over your clit faster. Letting out a scream, you cum all over his dick. Letting out a loud groan, he gives you one last thrust. You can feel his cum fill you up, seeping out of your cunt when he pulls out of you.

He lets go of your ankles, throwing both of your legs to the side and flipping you onto your stomach. Gripping your hips tightly, he pulls your hips up, running his hands over your ass before leaving a harsh smack that makes a gasp escape your lips. He pushes back into you causing you to cry out into the pillow.

"Give me your hands." Seungcheol's voice is demanding, raspy and filling with lust as he takes your hands, crossing your wrists over one another and holding against to your back.

He holds your wrists together as he thrusts into you, hips slapping against your ass as his dick hits all of the right places. He moves your wrists farther up your back, arching your back to give him the perfect angle. Fucking into your sopping cunt, his voice strained as he speaks, close to reaching another high, "Fuck, Baby. Always taking me so well. My little slut."

His thrusts get harsher as he lets go of your wrists, running his hand up your back and grabbing a fist full of your hair, pulling you toward him. Turning your head to the side, staring into your eyes as he thrusts up into you. He roughly presses his lips to yours, groaning into your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens, slightly pulling your head back as his free hand finds its way to your clit, "Who owns this pussy?"

Choking out a strangled moan as he thrusts into you, you struggle to find words, "You."

"I can't hear you, Princess. Who?" His warm breath hits your neck, his world drawing out another moan.

A sharp snap of his hips causes you to scream out in pleasure, returning to low whimpers as you answer him, louder this time, "You. It's all yours."

His hand leaves your hair, wrapping around your body to grab your chest, squeezing tightly as he fucking into you, "That's what I thought."

Hips pressing against you, thrusting harder than before as he rubs circles on your clit. Blinding light covers your vision, head falling back into Seungcheol's shoulder and body shaking at the intensity of the feeling of your release. Seungcheol holds you against him as he releases into you, pressing hot kisses against your neck.

Heavy breathing fills the room. Seungcheol slowly lays you down and takes his place next to you. He gently moves a strand of hair from your face, leaning in to kiss your forehead and then your nose before reaching your lips. Pressing soft kisses to your lips as he draws shapes onto your bare back, he smiles at you, "You okay?"

A short laugh escapes your lips, "Never been better."

The smile on his face widens, the rough man from moments ago replaced with the sweet one in front of you, "Do you think you can sleep?"

His voice held nothing but love and concern. Smiling back at him, you nod, "I'm gonna hope I have that nightmare more often if it ends up like this."

Seungcheol lets out a happy laugh, shaking his head at you, "You just have to ask."

The nightmare was far from your mind. There is no fear of closing your eyes and seeing the dark sockets where eyes should be because all you can see when you close your eyes are Seungcheol's love filled eyes staring back at you.

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year

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Insatiable (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Your collages should have listened to you.

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

A/N: Huge shout out to @chanif-art who's artwork continues to inspire me and this story. I am completely blown away with how well part 1 was received. Thank you to everyone who's liked, reblogged, commented and even simply read it. I didn't do a tag list for this one because I think well over 50 people asked and I completely lost track. Anyway, I hope this meets your expectations! I was listening to Little Girl Gone while writing this... for some reason it just fits plagas!Leon.

“Honey, I’ve changed so much since I last saw ya.”

You open your eyes, finding yourself inside Leon’s cell. You dart your head around, looking frantically when you realize you’re chained to the chair, the same chair Leon had previously been chained to. You hear Leon chuckle, a low chilling sound as he walks up from behind you, taking long, slow strides. He turns to face you, you notice the black veins sprawling his body have gotten darker, his eyes more red. He grins as he kneels down to be at eye level with you, his four canine teeth noticeably sharp. He runs his tongue along his teeth.

“There you are, sweetheart. I didn’t think you’d wake up,” Leon says with a purr.

Your eyes are wide, taking labored deep breaths before you attempt to struggle. Leon laughs, shaking his head.

“That won’t do you any good I’m afraid, but don’t worry, I’ll get you out of those chains so we can have some play time.”

Leon stands back up, walking back behind you. You hear him break the chains apart with his bare hands. You waste no time bolting out of the chair and to the door. No matter how much you pull, the door won’t budge. You turn around to find Leon standing directly behind you. He grabs you by the waist pulling you to him. You flail your arms at him, trying to fight him off. Out of the corner of your eye you see Bryan on the other side of the clear panel holding a clipboard, taking notes.

“Bryan?! Get me out of here! I’m trapped in here with him, please! He’s going to hurt me!”

Bryan lifts his head, shaking it, “the data you’ll provide from this is too valuable to pass up I’m afraid. We need to know if he’s capable of procreating with a un-infected human and what the offspring will look like.”

“WHAT?!” you scream, “Bryan have you lost your mind?!”

Completely ignoring your pleas, Bryan continues, “remember what we agreed on, Leon. You are not to infect her with the plaga until she gives birth. After that, you can do with her as you please.”

“I remember the agreement, you fucking prick,” Leon growls next to your ear before he licks your earlobe.

“NO I DID NOT AGREE TO THIS BRYAN, YOU LET ME OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!” you continue to scream as you try to fight Leon off.

Leon, however, is much more powerful than you; he bites into your shoulder and makes short work of pinning you to the floor, his hands gripping your jeans and ripping them off you, leaving you with your pair of lace panties. You attempt to crawl across the floor towards Bryan, but Leon drags you back by your hips. Leon flips you over to face him, caging you with his body. He simply stares down at you, his smile wide. You watch as drool drips from his face onto your shirt, which he promptly rips apart to reveal your matching bra to him.

“Aren’t you just delicious to look at?” Leon says, licking his lips before locking his lips onto yours in a hungry kiss.

To your horror, you’re returning his kiss, his hands grasping to both of your breasts. He pulls away after a couple minutes, sitting on his haunches as he pushes your legs apart, noting the dark spot that is now on your panties.

“Oh? You don’t want this? Then tell me why you’re so fucking wet, sweetheart?”

Leaning forward, he grabs your panties with his teeth, dragging them off you before tossing them aside. He then begins undoing the belt on his pants; before long he is pulling his hardening cock from his pants. He wastes no time climbing back on top of you, pushing himself inside you balls deep with ease.

When the head of his cock kisses your cervix, your eyes roll into the back of your head as you let out a soft moan. Leon growls, thrusting into you with an insatiable ferocity, causing you to grip his arms, scratching into them with your nails. You felt like he was fucking you for an eternity when he let’s out another growl, pressing into you as deep as he could possibly go. You feel your cunt clamp around his cock, milking his cum into your body.

Leon stares back down at you, his eyes and grin wide as he laughs maniacally.

You wake up screaming, covered in sweat and tears streaming down your face. You take deep breaths, laying your hand on your chest to ground yourself.

It was just a nightmare.

Once you get yourself calm, you climb out of bed and go into the kitchen of your apartment, making yourself coffee and some toast for breakfast. Afterwards, you get ready for work and head out the door. On your way, you decide to stop at the pharmacy. Walking the aisles, you find the feminine hygiene products, grabbing an ovulation test off the shelf and paying for it. Once you get to HQ, you trap yourself into one of the bathroom stalls, taking the test and waiting for the results. You watch in horror as a little smiley face shows up on the little screen, confirming your hypothesis.

You collect yourself before briskly walking into Bryan’s office. You don’t knock, you simply push the door open aggressively, startling both Bryan and the researcher he’s meeting with, you think his name is Pierce.

“I am not going back down there, Bryan,” you say sternly.

Pierce shifts uncomfortably in his seat before standing up to leave, “I’ll go check on the camera feed downstairs.”

You and Bryan stare at each other as the door swings shut. Bryan rubs his eyes.

“Not this again, I’m sorry but I need you to go down there, you’re still the only one Leon talks to. Is this about what happened yesterday? I assure you, we have taken extra precautions to ensure that doesn’t happen again.”

You stomp up to Bryan’s desk, slamming the positive ovulation test onto the desk. Bryan looks down at the test before looking at you and raising an eyebrow.

“The fuck is this?” he asks.

“I’m ovulating, this is why Leon keeps saying I smell good and wants to practically throw himself on me whenever I’m down there.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Can you think of a logical explanation, then? I’m all ears.”

“This is not up for debate, you are going to continue working with Leon; that’s an order!”

Suddenly, the lights go dim before red emergency lights come on followed by a loud, screeching alarm.

“What the hell?!” Bryan exclaims, looking around confused.

You’ve never heard this alarm during your entire time at D.S.O., you rack your brain around what it could mean when suddenly, Pierce bursts into the office.

“Pierce! What the hell is going on out there?!” Bryan asks.

“Kennedy’s escaped, sir!”

Leon opens his eyes and lifts his head, looking around his cell. Deep down he was seething in rage; he had gotten so close to getting out of this chair and having his way with you. Now, his chair had reinforced steel plating welded to it and they strapped a god damn muzzle onto his face. He could see he now had two men with guns guarding the door at all times.

Fucking beautiful.

He tested the chains again, but found they had been tightened recently, angering him even more. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and hoped he would see you today. He hated the thought of you seeing him like this, but he desperately wanted to see you and inhale your sweet, sweet scent.

Out of nowhere, an excruciating pain jolts down Leon’s spine, causing him to cry out and writhe in his chair. His four canine teeth grow sharper, his fingers turning black and now taking on a claw-like appearance and a new, sharp appendage was peaking out of his lower back. The guards turned around to look at Leon. They immediately unlock the door and come into this cell to check on him. Leon stops writhing, slumping over in his chair, pretending to be passed out. One guard stays by the door, facing away from them while the other comes over to check on Leon, checking the chains to make sure they’re in place.

Unbeknownst to the guard closest to Leon, Leon’s new tail was extending from his back, coming around from behind the guard. It was very similar to a scorpion’s tail, but instead of a barb on the end, it looked like a blade. Within an instant, Leon’s tail wraps around the guard’s neck, snapping it instantly as four claw-like appendages burst from Leon’s back, breaking the chains holding his arms in place. Hearing the other guard fall to the floor the other guard turns around only to be faced with Leon, who is now up out of his chair and walking towards him, ripping the muzzle off his face, flashing a maniacal grin at the guard. The guard goes to shoot Leon but Leon is much faster, his tail whipping forward and impaling the man in the chest before flinging him aside.

Leon strides out of his cell, looking down the hallway to see a pair of researchers coming down the hallway. Upon seeing Leon out of his cell, they start shouting at each other and turn to run in the opposite direction. Leon smiles, breaking into a sprint. He leaps, pinning one researcher to the ground with his body while his tail grabs the other by the waist, lifting him into the air.

“Where is she?!” Leon asks with a growl to the researcher he has pinned to the floor.

“Where’s who?!” the researcher stutters.

“Don’t play dumb with me! Where is she?!”

“Up-Upstairs! In Br-Bryan’s office!”

Leon’s mouth clamps down onto the researcher's neck, ripping out his throat as his tail squeezes the other until his spine snaps, falling to the floor as Leon lets him go. At that moment, all the lights dim before red emergency lights come on. Leon breaks back into a sprint to the elevator however, it was not working no matter how many buttons he pushed. He uses his tale to rip a hole into the ceiling, leaping up into it and climbing the elevator shaft.

Once he reaches the top, he pries the elevator door open, swinging down, landing gracefully in the hallway. People are scrambling to get away from him, bumping and tripping over each other to run down the hallway. Leon’s red eyes scan the area, however, he sees no sign of you. More guards with guns show up, firing at him. His tale whips forward, deflecting their bullets with ease as he lunges forward. He impales one operative with his tail while his hand thrusts through the chest of another, gripping the man’s still beating heart in his claws before crushing it.

“Take her and get out of here!” he hears a man yell from down the hallway.

Leon’s attention is immediately drawn to the man that yelled, immediately recognizing him as Bryan. At one time, he liked the man, a brilliant scientist. Too bad he has to die. Leon watches as Bryan pulls out a pistol, firing shots at him. Again. Leon’s tail and back claws deflect the shots as he stands face to face with Bryan, his tail whipping around and decapitating the man with ease. He brings his tail’s blade to his lips, licking off the blood as he proceeds to walk down the hallway towards the entrance of HQ.

A researcher is leading you out the front door, shoving you through the door with his back turned to Leon. He’s about to head out himself before Leon’s tail goes straight through his chest. Leon hears the man’s death gurgles as he flings him behind him, his body falling about 20 feet away with a loud thud.

And there you are, cowering in the entry vestibule, your eyes locked on him, looking up and down his body. Leon straightens out his posture in hopes of making himself alluring to you, his tail whipping back and forth while his back claws flex.

“Do you actually think you can escape me?” Leon coos, watching as you press your back as hard as you can into the glass doors as he comes closer.

“You never will, my love.” he continues with a grin, licking his sharp canines.

You stumble out of the door, bolting into the street and running as fast as you can to your car.

“I will find you.”

Part 3

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy x reader #gigabyte writes #insatiable

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huskersbooze · 3 months

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Bambi

Alastor x Reader

Summary : Alastor returns from his outing one day, finding a guest lying on the floor, unconscious, in front of the Hazbin Hotel. Untrue to Alastor fashion, scaring most of the staff members, he decides to keep the fascinating creature in his broadcasting studio, and when she wakes up, she's forgotten everything, even her name. And when Alastor starts calling her nicknames in the mean time, he accidentally gives her one that she ends up growing attached to..

Warnings : N/A

Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader (Gn!Reader here, M!Reader here)

Additional tags : Fluff(?), mentions of amnesia, Alastor actually being nice?!

Word count : 1.06k

“Wonderful, just wonderful! You’re awake!”

A staticky voice drew you out of your thoughts. Surprised, you snapped your neck towards the sound, and a rather tall and slim figure was right at your face.

“Charming, I haven’t seen you around here before!”

You flinch as the figure leans closer, causing them to back away slightly.

“Who.. who are you?”

“Pleasure to meet you, dear, just a pleasure! I'm Alastor, the Radio Demon. And who might you be?"

"I..” You reply. “I don't know."

He seems taken aback by your response slightly, but his smile doesn't falter. Instead he cocks his head to the side and blinks at you.

"What's your name?"

You stay quiet for a while until you give an uncertain head tilt back to him.

"I don't know.."

The grin still very much glued to his face, he leaned a bit closer to you, voice dropping to a more hushed tone.

"Darling, you don't remember your name, or you don't know your name?"

"I.. I don't remember." You fight the urge to start fidgeting with your hands, looking down to the ground as your memories become a hazy blur.

"You don't remember? Your name? Anything?"

"No.."

He doesn't seem to let his bright smile falter at that, although his expression shifts slightly towards curiosity.

"Quite the fascinating creature you are." He blinks a couple of times before he shifts to lean against what seemed to be a broadcasting panel, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Intriguing, really. Do you know what happened to your memory?"

"No.. not really."

"Well, that's unfortunate." The Radio Demon lets out a chuckle, static still laced in his laugh. "It seems you're in a bit of a dilemma, aren't you, Bambi?"

"Bambi.. I like it." You reply.

"Pardon me?" He raises his eyebrow at you, surprised at your statement.

"Bambi. I like the sound of that."

He laughs, a smile sounding from him again. There was something so unsettling yet alluring about him.

"That is rather fitting, I suppose. Bambi.. it's not a bad name." He thinks for a few seconds, stroking his chin as he considers. "And I suppose I'll need something to refer to you if you're staying. It fits you.."

"Staying?"

"Where do you think you are right now, darling? You certainly didn't expect me to leave you out there with your memories wiped with nowhere to go?"

"I.."

"Surely you hoped to stay for accommodation and basic necessities?" The Radio Demon asks, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "You've lost your memory after all, have you not?"

"Yes.." You hesitantly replied. Sure, you've lost your memory, but you weren't stupid enough to follow a random Radio Demon around without knowing him.

"I don't bite, Bambi. I can guarantee everyone at the hotel will treat you with the respect you deserve. And if they don't, all you need to do is let me know and I'll handle them for you."

"Hotel?"

"My, my, you really are a clueless little deer." Alastor uses a cane-typed staff to ruffle your hair. “So fragile and just the cutest little thing.”

“Thank.. you?”

Alastor tilts his head to the side curiously.

"It seems as if my teasing isn't upsetting you. How strange." He merely comments. “Oh, to understand your lost little mind.”

You carefully scan the room. It seemed to be a broadcasting studio, the room simply in red. Totally wasn’t sinister at all.

“So, what do you say, Bambi? We wouldn't mind providing you with all the necessities you need for now.”

“Necessities?”

Alastor chuckles again.

"Like, a bed, for example! Or, oh, I'm sure you'd want new clothes as well, right? And... if that's not enough, we do serve breakfast the next day. If you want food, that is..."

“Jambalaya..” You mutter, mostly to yourself as you’re lightly lost in thought.

Alastor’s grin widens a little, his ears perking slightly at the sudden mention of his favourite food.

"I can't say that I was expecting that, but... yes, we actually do have jambalaya on the menu for lunch. How'd you know that?"

“Oh, sorry.. I was just talking to myself. It’s my favourite food.” You stifle a blush as you let out an embarrassed smile.

“Ah, so you do remember some things, Bambi.” He raises his voice in curiosity, walking towards a trapdoor in the floor. “Come along, dear, let’s bring you to Charlie.”

“Charlie?”

“The owner of the hotel, and also the Princess of Hell.”

“We’re in hell?”

Alastor stops in his tracks as the two of you reach the hallways, finally out of Alastor’s broadcasting tower.

“After our whole conversation, you just noticed?”

“I.. I suppose so.”

“Oh, dear, you really are just one mysterious creature, aren't you? To think you just appeared here, with no memories of yourself, of the world, and even what you're doing here in Hell. You are truly fascinating..”

Alastor smirks, speaking in a lower voice. “Charlie will be delighted to have you here.”

After introductions and such, Charlie settles you into the room next to Alastor’s, opposite of Angel Dust, and introduces you to all the staff.

“So.. who are ya’ exactly?” The white spider raises a hand, slouching on the couch with a grey cat beside him.

“This is our new guest!” Charlie introduces. “Alastor found her unconscious and offered to let her stay.”

“That doesn’t really answer the question, princess.” The grey cat speaks up, seemingly bored from the unoriginality of these introductions.

“Well, Husker, our little friend here has lost her memories.” Alastor speaks up from beside you, ruffling your hair with his staff-cane-thing once more. You still couldn’t make out what it was really supposed to be.

“Lost her memories?” Vaggie is the one to speak up this time.

“Indeed. It seems our dear friend doesn't even remember her own name, let alone anything else.”

“Then what a’ we s’posed to refer to her as?” Angel questions.

“You could call me Bambi..” You mutter softly, gaze glued to your own feet.

“Works for me.” Husk shrugs.

“Sure.” Angel replies.

Vaggie and Niffty nods.

You feel the static beside you grow a bit louder, and as you shift your gaze, you see Alastor keeping his composure with his backs behind his back, his eyes on you as he gives you a soft, and genuine smile.

“You’re going to love it here, Bambi.” He says.

———/ End. /———

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor fluff #alastor x reader #alastor altruist #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor angst

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oxydiane · 1 year

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sns is so fucking unhinged and nobody will ever be them i’m sorry. you start the series and it’s like oh haha look at these goofy angsty rivals! they hate each other! then sasuke dies for naruto thirty chapters in giving up his dream of revenge and naruto goes batshit insane. now you’re like ah they’re friends i guess that’s cute! and sasuke is trying to kill naruto because he’s the most important person in his life which is . ok and it becomes the driving force of everything or something. sasuke leaves and naruto dedicates the rest of his life to bringing him back and you’re still a casual fan so ur like he’s doing it for the promise right? then orochimaru says sasuke is his and naruto goes batshit insane feral homicidal (again) and after that sasuke reappears and they have ??? like five different panels dedicated to them staring at each other??? and he jumps off a mountain and hugs naruto for some reasons just to whisper some gay shit in his ear kishimoto frankly needs to be jailed drawing this and keep that best friend nonsense going. anyways. you have sasuke become a convicted terrorist to which the normal people response is “ok we need to hunt him down” and when naruto learns they’re gonna hunt him down he starts screaming crying throwing up he has a panic attack he can’t breathe he’s falling in the snow he gets on his knees and begs them to spare his BFF. after having a meltdown over the thought of sasuke dying what may possibly be the natural coping mechanism any stable person would adapt? of course realising that if sasuke dies he can die too. so he sees sasuke again and after he attempts murdering sakura twice and expresses the intent to murder kakashi he’s like. i will bear the burden of your hatred and die with you hehe and if we both die you won’t be an uchiha and i won’t be the jinchuuriki to the nine tails and we’ll be able to understand each other better in a different lifetime! WE’LL MEET AGAIN IN THE AFTERLIFE BECAUSE NOT EVEN DEATH CAN DO US PART! and sasuke (just as insane as him) doesn’t even flinch he’s like what the fuck is wrong with you but then ok let’s fuckingggf die together on my god i will kill your first anyways . then they find out they are soulmates and get cute matching tattoos on their hands and decide to fight to the death once more because sasuke is back on his i will shoulder all the hatred of the world alone and i need to kill you because i love you more than anyone else in the world actually you’re the only person i love so you need to DIE and naruto is like I WILL NOT LET YOU SHOULDER THAT HATRED ALONE I WILL FREE YOU FROM THE PAIN and they fight and despite all the whatever weapons used in the war it’s a fuckinggg fistfight in which just as sasuke is about to inflict what he thinks is the last blow says “farewell… my one and only…………………. (very long pause to accentuate how heteronormative this next word is gonna be) FRIEND” and fucking stops using his sharingan because not even then he can record the image of naruto dying especially by his hand but naruto STOPS HIM LIKE A f cHAMP and they end up blowing each other’s arms off (rip the matchies) and as they’re bleeding to the fucking death sasuke is like you’re the only person that has never tried to severe their ties with me why do you go so far for me and naruto from the depths of comphet hell is like because you’re my FRIEND and sasuke being absolutely done with this bullshit is like ok what the fuck does that mean to you then and this is where it gets even gayer and relatable because naruto is like i don’t KNOW i just know that when you hurt i hurt and i just can’t take it and isn’t that the most gay experience thing ever? naruto knows what it feels like to have friends but what he feels for sasuke is so bone deep and unconventional that he cannot make sense of it and can only describe the pain it brings. after that sasuke CRIES LIKE THEYVE GOT ME SOOO FUCKED UP but you know what got me even more fucked up?

naruto waking up bloodied and battered and half alive with one arm missing but still wondering if that was heaven because sasuke was next to him. sasuke looking so happy and peaceful when saying “i lost” as a stark contrast to him looking and feeling like half of his body was being torn apart when he “won” against naruto in vote1 and left him. the bitterness of victory vs the sweetness of losing if you will. AND HIM COMPARING WHAT HE FEELS FOR NARUTO TO PRAYING MY GODD. did i forget to mention that then we learn that Ohhh it was never a stupid shallow rivalry as we all thought! they have actually been watching each other from afar since they were little freshly traumatised children and have longed to hold each other’s hands since then! what was it sasukeeee you felt warm and fuzzy when you saw naruto to thought of it as a weakness? these two are so astronomically hopelessly desperately obsessed in love with each other it’s ridiculous i’ve had ENOUGH free me from this mental prison

#soo talks #its 4 am #this is word vomit #ignore me #naruto #naruto shitpost #sns #narusasu #sasunaru #pro sns #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #thoughts

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thebestofoneshots · 22 days

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.3 K Warnings: ANGST! Prompt: Vixen tries to survive in the snow while Remus desperatly tries to find her. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 46: Comfortably Numb

Well, hold on, my darling This mess was yours Now your mess is mine

You had woken up hastily after seeing Nina, your eyes snapping open in hopes she really was there, but there was no one, just more snow, gently falling on top of the white layer already covering most of the fields. Your eyes started to close again until you felt something on your nose, you opened your eyes only to see a blue butterfly.

But here? In the snow? You wondered as you saw its wings bat desperate, tired, and cold. You could feel the crisp taping of paper-like, frozen delicate things against your cheek and lashes, urging you to open your eyes back up, to wake up and fight.

You moved your hand towards your face and the butterfly gingerly jumped to your finger, “You must be cold,” you whispered. You felt cold too, although it wasn’t as cold as before. In truth you were so tired and numb, you barely registered how cold it was until you felt her wings flapping against your cheeks.

“If I had my wand I could make us a fire,” you said, “but that was taken away from me, to help someone who helped me get here… You can stay by me if you want…” you added as you let your hand fall on your lap carefully. The small butterfly flapped their wings again, desperate to get your attention.

“Not warm enough, is it?” You asked and sighed. “I’ll try to get us there then,” you said as you pointed at the shack, you knew it would be warm. It was hard to get up, the stunning spell and how tired you were at this point had taken a toll on you. Your movements were strained and languid, it took you a full minute to stand. The butterfly kept flying around you, desperate. You extended your hand to help and she flew towards your shoulder, sitting just over the sleeve of your dress.

Oh right, you were only wearing a dress, perhaps that was the reason it was so cold. You managed to walk all the way to the door, with a slow and steady pace, but once you reached, the door wouldn’t budge. It was firmly closed, and you didn’t have your wand to pry it open, you didn’t even have the penknife you had made for Sirius. You leaned your back against the doorframe, you felt so tired.

“Looks like we’re staying out here, Blue,” you said as you looked at the butterfly, who flew rapidly towards your face in response. You sighed, “You wouldn’t make it, would you?” you asked and pushed yourself off the door, searching for another way in. That’s when you spotted one of the crossed-out windows. Perhaps if I try hard enough…

You used the walls to step down from the stairs and walked towards the window. It was covered with wood, but one of the slabs seemed at least slightly rotten, so you grabbed that one, ignoring the splinters digging into your palms and pulled.

Nothing happened. You frowned, took a deep breath and pulled again. There was a creaking sound, but the wood was still firmly glued to the side panels of the window. You nodded, hyping yourself up as you tried again. One, two, three, PULL!

The piece of wood came along with you as you stumbled back a good few steps. You looked at it and smiled, throwing the wood on the floor and leaning against the window. It was still as messy as you remembered, but the clouding against the window meant it was warm. You grabbed a fist full of the flowy fabric of your dress and punched on the window, you felt it shatter as your fist went through the crystal. When you pulled your hand back you allowed your dress and the tiny shards of glass to fall onto the snow.

You turned around and pushed your hand towards the butterfly. She placed herself in the middle of your palm and you carefully brought her inside. She seemed even more active once inside the warmer climate and you smiled. At least you could save a butterfly.

You swallowed again and tried to pull the wood slab just over the one you had managed to rip out earlier but it was useless, the wood wasn’t as putrid as the other one, and it was firmly nailed onto the window. You huffed and tried again, but the result was the same. The butterfly seemed to be flying desperately as it watched you struggle. You sighed after trying one more time and allowed yourself to fall on the floor, your eyes closed when you felt the flapping of the wings against your cheeks again.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you stared at it. “Go back inside, it’s warm, you’ll diе out here.”

The butterfly stubbornly flew around you. It couldn’t talk, but if it did, you’d imagine it would be telling you the same thing you were trying to tell it. You sighed and stood up, helping her back inside. “I’ll find safety,” you promised as you looked at her. “But you need to stay inside.”

The butterfly refused. You carefully hurled her back inside. It wasn’t easy but you were gentle enough not to hurt her. Once she was inside you dug down and grabbed some snow, attempting to close the hole you’d made with it. You dragged the snow from the sides of the sill and pressed them against the opened area, ignoring the sharp pain when a shard of glass dug into the side of your palm. Or perhaps it was more than one, your hand was too numb to feel it all.

Once you made sure the butterfly wouldn’t be able to follow, you took a deep breath and focused on the snow. You used a similar spell to the one you had used on the snow fight, but rather than a projectile, you used the same type of magic to make sure the snow wouldn’t melt for a while. The butterfly was fluttering madly inside, as if desperate to come back out.

“It’s all right,” you reassured, “I’ll find a way to safety, I promise.” You smiled faintly and then turned around. If you couldn’t get inside the shack, then the closest way to safety was through the forest. You weren’t scared, you knew the most dangerous thing that roamed it already, and he wasn’t around tonight.

You looked up at the sky, the stars were impossibly bright, and the moon was waning. The path towards the forest was dark, but illuminated enough for you to see your way. You took in a deep cold breath and decided that if you’d have to get to the castle either way, you might as well do it now.

The snow was hard and freezing, your feet hurt as you tried to raise them so you were pretty much dragging them through the thick and cold snow. With no shoes, they felt colder than ever, you could barely feel them at this point, but you kept walking.

You fell more than once, but the ghost memory of the Blue flapping her wings against your cheeks got you to stand again. To keep walking, to keep fighting. But the castle seemed so far away, and the cold snow appeared as a welcoming blanket every time you stumbled onto it again. It was tempting, awfully tempting to just allow yourself to fall on it, to let it slowly drape over you and to become numb, not only your body, but your mind as well.

When would they find you if you did? In a week when they realised you were gone? In a month when other animals dug you out of the snow desperate for something to eat? In months? After the weather grew warm and the insects had made your skin their home. You wished you could shudder at the sombre thoughts, but the snow still looked beguiling.

Perhaps she would wash away your thoughts, perhaps she’d get rid of the pain inside like she had done with the one outside. The soft, white blanket, ready to wrap itself around you until you were completely swallowed by it, until you were one with it, and nothing more.

But the memory of the butterfly got you up again, you’d have to go back to help her out, if you stayed in the snow, then she would stay in the shack, and the two of you would be nothing more than a memory.

Remus had run to the Whomping Willow the second he pocketed the mirror. He didn’t even bother hiding the fact that he was going out at night, he didn’t sneak out, he didn’t care if he got detention, he didn’t care if he got expelled. Not after what Sirius had told him. Not after hearing how you were sitting on the snow, with your eyes closing and with the same cold he felt, so heavy around him. The snow was falling so hard he couldn’t see more than a few metres ahead, and he was scared.

No, Remus was terrified, as terrified as he had been that night you’d discovered he was a Werewolf, as terrified as he was when he saw you fall from your broom back at the game, as terrified as that night you insisted on turning into Vixen alongside the rest of the Marauders to be with Moony.

He had been terrified of losing you then, and he was hysterical over feeling the exact same way now. He sprinted towards the tree, not thinking twice if he would get hit by one of its branches as he ducked and jumped to get to the hole. He slid down and ran, so fast his legs cried for him to stop, his heart drumming in his ears and his breath short. It took some time, but when he finally made it, when he found the door, he busted it open and walked inside. He didn’t waste time, walking towards the entrance and using his wand to open the door.

“Sirius said you’d be there,” he whispered as he looked at the empty fence. The snow had already covered your tracks, but he could smell the same urgent, scared and terrified scent of you he was already familiar with. He looked around and spotted the wood slab you had ripped from the window. He could smell bIood on it and he cringed, taking it in his hands only to spot small droplets of it over the sides. He winced at the thought of you hurting yourself and then dropped the wood and looked around again. The snow, being so thick, had easily erased your steps, but even if he couldn’t see, he could smell.

His senses weren’t as keen as they were close to the moon, he wasn’t as good at tracking as Moony was, but if there was a time to take advantage of his abilities, it was now. He closed his eyes and focused on you. It was hard at first, the snow was thick and cold and his nose was freezing, but he managed to spot you, a trace of you. When he opened his eyes again, they were way more golden than normal, and he sprinted towards the source of the smell. He ran, ignoring the snow that had slipped inside his Converse, ignoring the complaints of his bones. The moon had been only days ago and he was still rather sore, but he ran.

By the time he spotted a faint dark dot in the distance, he was already panting, but he pushed through and sprinted all the way to you. By the time he reached you, you were kneeling on the floor, slow breaths and looking up, attempting to stand again. He kneeled in front of you and took you a minute to really see him, thinking for a moment it was just another game your mind was playing on you.

“Rem?” you asked, voice cracked and barely a whisper.

“Merlin, you’re all right,” he said as he dragged you towards him. You weren’t all right. You felt as cold as the place surrounding you. Remus panicked as he held you close to him. And he took off the coat he was wearing to wrap it around you.

“No, it’s cold, you use it,” you slurred as you shivered. Remus gave you a sympathetic look.

“I’m going to carry you, I think I can apparate you back in the Shack,” he explained.

“It’s closed, can’t open it…” you said as you shook your head, not quite thinking. “Must get to the castle, it’s safe,” you said, you had told yourself that over and over again as you walked, you were merely repeating it now. Not even thinking Remus could probably crank the door open if he wanted to.

“You don’t have your wand?” he said as he pulled you up from the floor and slung one of your arms around his shoulder. You shook your head in response. “I’m going to pick you up now,” he added as he passed his arm under your legs and pulled you up with ease. “I have my wand,” he added reassuringly, handing it over to you, he knew it would make you feel better.

And then he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and concentrating on the Shack. The shape of the walls, the window covered by wooden slabs, the run-down chimney and the scuffed floors, once the image was neat enough, he followed Dumbledore’s instructions, the world dissolved around him only for him to appear in the shack. The first thing he did was let you down on the floor carefully and make sure he hadn’t accidentally splinched you.

“You alright? Anything hurts?” He asked as he placed his hands on your face to check on you. They were warm and kind, incredibly reassuring to your still-fuzzy mind. You couldn’t have been dreaming that, could you?

You focused your gaze on his, still rather dazed and shook your head. He placed his hand over yours and took hold of the wand, closing the door with a short wave of it and then turning the fire to help the room heat up slowly.

He took a look at you, your skin was dull with the cold, the colour fading and stale. Remus carried you again and dragged you towards the room, the torn sheets from a few nights back were still on the bed and he sat you there slowly. He asked you a few questions, and you responded automatically, too numb to think properly.

“Luv, you’re not even listening to me,” he complained as he pulled your face into your hands. You blinked and tried to focus on him again.

“Sorry,” you mustered.

He sighed. “Listen, I’m going to give you my jumper, and then I’ll check your hands up. We need to warm you up slowly, okay?”

“It is cold,” you responded as your teeth clung together.

Remus took off his jumper and helped you put it on top of your dress. The dress was cold, but he used a spell to have it warm up slowly as he laid you on the bed. “Is it better?”

You nodded, jaw still quivering from the cold. Remus took a short breath and pulled your hands towards his. Some of the splinters of wood were still stuck in your hand and he was careful as he started to remove them. Your hands were cold and he could see small –now melting– crystals of bIood attached to certain sections of your palm. When he was done, he used a spell to aid the healing process, your hands had just started to get their warmth back when he heard a heavy breath coming from you.

You had fallen asleep. Peaceful, but still shivering. He frowned and pulled the mirror from his pocket. Sirius, taking the wand from the bed and using it to send to shine a light, Sirius instantly peaked his head on the other side.

“How is she? Is she okay?” Sirius mouthed desperately.

Remus smiled and nodded, showing him your sleeping figure. “She’s cold,” he explained. “I’m trying to warm her up.”

“Hug her!” Sirius said instantly. “Cuddle her! You’re always warm!” Remus gave him a questioning look. “You always cuddle her, it’s no different.”

It was very different. Remus had never cuddled you without Sirius in the bed too. James beside Sirius nodded supportingly. He didn’t see the issue, he’d cuddle you if it was necessary. Of course, James saw you as a friend and nothing more.

Remus nodded and left the mirror on the table, promising the boys he’ll talk to them later, with the radio to explain it all better. Then he leaned onto the edge of the bed. “Little Witch,” he called softly.

You didn’t react, eyes still closed and breathing slow. He placed a hand on your face, it was warmer, but still colder than it should be. He played with a bit of your hair and placed it behind your ear, allowing his fingers to brush over your face, “Little Witch,” he called again.

You were beautiful, even in the cold, even with the shivers, Remus thought you looked stunning. He wondered how you must have looked when you stepped into that party, with your hair perfectly arranged and your makeup freshly done, definitely a sight to behold. And then he sighed, here he was ogling at you while his best friend –your boyfriend– was at home, worried for his girlfriend. Asking him to cuddle you, and yet he felt doing so would be akin to betrayal, just because of how much he liked you.

“Little Witch,” he said again, this time you hummed, your eyes opening slightly, unfocused. “I think I should cuddle you to warm you up faster, is that okay?”

“It is always okay for you to cuddle me,” you responded, not quite thinking, and closing your eyes again before you noticed the blush on Remus’ cheeks. You couldn’t have meant that, or perhaps you did, in which case you really thought of him as your closest friend, which in turn, made him feel even worse.

Remus carefully climbed onto the bed and under the covers. He was on the side, and hesitated a little before leaning in to cuddle you. Most of the time, it was you and Sirius that leaned into him, not the other way around. He never wanted to seem invasive, and he really only moved you around when you were Vixen. It was easier to think of the two of you as different entities instead of the same.

But you leaned back to him almost instantly, allowing your head to rest on one of his arms and pulling the other one around you. You seemed a lot more comfortable, the shivering reducing significantly. It took a minute for Remus to untense, but eventually, he relaxed on to you, even daring to bring you closer as he rubbed his hand over your clothed arm to try and warm you up faster with the friction. Eventually, he too fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes again, you weren’t there. He stood up in an instant, terrified you had been a dream, that he hadn’t found you in the snow and that for some twisted reason, you were still out there freezing. But then he spotted the silhouette of a shadow, and he looked ahead. Crouched, looking impossibly small, you sat next to the fire, using a poker to liven up the flames, arm wrapped around your legs and using both his jumper and his coat to warm yourself up. He couldn’t see your face, but the way you were breathing… it looked like you had been crying.

He pulled the covers off of him and dragged them alongside himself as he sat next to you. He didn’t make a sound as he placed the covers around the two of you, and he hesitated before placing his hand on your forehead, then allowing it to slide down your cheek, and letting his thumb brush under your chin. You were a lot warmer now.

You didn’t react, you allowed him to touch you as you continued to stare at the fire. The dancing flames reflecting onto your glassy eyes.

Your temperature had risen, the cold was no longer clouding your mind, and you had struggled to hold back the tears for at least half an hour before you decided to step out of bed, hoping not to wake Remus up with your sobs. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, not after what you’d done, after what you’d caused. You didn’t deserve to cry.

“Little Witch?” Remus asked, tilting his head to the side when you attempted to blink back some tears.

You swallowed thickly, did you even deserve such an endearing nickname?

“Hey,” he leaned a little closer, placing a hand on your shoulder, you avoided his gaze, how interesting did the dancing flames seem, with their hues of yellow, red and bright white, with the sparkling bits floating off until they disappeared, with the ash of the wood piling at the bottom. It clearly hadn’t been cleared in a while.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Love, whatever happened, I won’t judge you, you know that, right?”

It was as if he had guessed your thoughts, Remus had always been incredibly perceptive, you sometimes underestimated just how much. But Remus understood, he understood exactly what you were feeling because he had played the scenario where he accidentally hurt those he loved over and over again in his brain for years.

And while he didn’t know much, Sirius did tell him about the fire and about your mother’s passing.

He was looking at you with such a kind-hearted look, trusting and kind. Like he would give you the world if you asked –he would– and you couldn’t help but break. You disliked being vulnerable, you hated having to show said vulnerability, but with Remus looking at you like that, with the night you’d had, perhaps allowing yourself to cry in front of your best friend wouldn’t be so bad. You knew Remus wouldn’t judge you, at least not for crying.

“Love?” he asked, you sobbed. Your face slowly scrunching up as you sniffed. It was hard to breathe as you opened your mouth to take in some air and then you sobbed again.

“I kiIled them,” you said, barely managing to open your eyes to look at Remus straight in the face. You wanted to see his reaction, half expecting him to pull back, to look at you in disgust, to recoil from you and to leave you crying alone in the room. A part of you wanted that, the part that wanted to cry and break everything, the one that needed to be alone.

But Remus didn’t do any of those things, instead, he opened his arms and wrapped them around you, bringing you closer to him, “I don’t care,” he said honestly.

You sobbed, and pulled back to look at him, “I kiIIed them, Remus!” you repeated, louder now. “My mum and Nina, they’re both dеad because of me!”

You felt Remus’ breath slow down as he tightened his arms around you and dragged you back into the hug. He didn’t know about Nina. “Did you want to kiIl them?” he asked simply. He wouldn’t have pushed you away even if you had.

“No,” you said in a whisper.

“Then it was an accident.”

You sniffed, trying to push him off, but he tightened his grip around you, not allowing you to snap out of his embrace. “But I still caused their dеaths! I’m a murderer!”

“I don’t care,” he repeated as he pushed you even closer to him. “I wouldn’t even care if you had done it on purpose, that would just mean they gave you a reason.” You sobbed, allowing the tears to slide down your cheeks, wetting the soft cotton shirt he wore. You didn’t realise it then, but it was the Sex Pistols shirt you had sent him as a gift.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, you don’t need to tell me anything at all,” he said softly as he brushed his hand on your back and pulled you even closer, so close you ended up sitting on his lap as you leaned into him and cried. “But I’m here, darling. I’m here and you can cry with me all you need.”

You had no idea how comforting it could be to cry with someone, you had always done it alone. But Remus was soft and reassuring, whispering calming words into your ears as he continued to brush his hands on you. Over your back, on your head, almost like he did when you were Vixen, but with more purpose now, it wasn’t about making Vixen get the smell of the pack, it wasn’t about making her warm, it was about making you warm.

He was hugging you consciously, brushing his hands over your body in an attempt to make you feel solace, and while his touch didn’t have the amnesiac ability the Lethe offered –and that you might have gladly drunk that night– he did offer a comfort like you hadn’t experienced in your life. Crying into Remus’ arms was like crying in a bed of soft, feathery clouds. Like the angels had come down to earth to commiserate you and absolve you of your wrongdoings.

It was also comforting to know that no matter what, you had someone on your side. You had lost your father that night, you had kiIled your mother and your friend had diеd trying to protect you, even though Barty and Evan helped you escape, you had never felt so immeasurably lonely as you had while you tried to help that small butterfly, or when you had walked towards the castle, your feet on the cold snow feeling number as the minutes passed by.

And then you ended up with Remus, hugging you and whispering how things would be all right, how Sirius and James had been worried and how happy they had been when he showed them you were all right. That no matter what you did, he wouldn’t leave, that Sirius wouldn’t leave and that your friends would be there for you. That you were part of them, and not even dеath herself could change that.

You cried in your best friend’s arms until you ran out of tears. You told him in between sobs what had happened, and he had patiently listened to your rambling as he continued to hold you. He would tighten his grip when your breath ran short and your tears grew thick. Only to let it loose and look at your face when you relaxed into him again. He was warm, the cold you had felt initially almost completely forgotten in his embrace.

“Thank you,” you whispered after a while, after telling him everything that had happened and after realising that, even then, he wouldn’t leave.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, my love,” he said and dragged you closer to him. If anything, it should be him the one thanking you, for letting yourself be vulnerable in front of him, for trusting him enough to let him hold you and to cry into his arms. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, because holding you so tight shouldn’t make him feel as satisfied as he did, not when the reason he held you was how desperate and sad you were.

And he felt your anguish, and he felt your pain, but that didn’t stop that small, touch-starved part of him from loving the fact that it was him the one that got to comfort you. That you clung to him for dear life, not to Sirius, not to anyone else.

It was when your breath finally steadiеd that he realised you had fallen asleep again. He smiled and brought you back onto the bed. Cleaning the remaining salty water from your cheeks as he brushed your hair and accommodated you again. Your eyes were slightly swollen, you certainly looked like you had been crying, but he was sure Sirius would still be worried.

He called him through the mirror again, he wrote a short note, telling him about you waking up and about being very upset, that you had been the one to cause the Fiendfyre and that you were very tired. That you were finally warmer and that he’d see if it was possible to call him later when you both went back to the castle.

Sirius was a lot more relaxed now, especially when he saw Remus lying next to you in the bed. You had cuddled against the boy in the same way you cuddled to Sirius sometimes. He thought it was endearing, even if you were hugging someone else. It made him a lot more relaxed to think you weren’t alone, he had been alone many times. And you were with Remus, big strong and calm Remus, everything would be all right.

By the time you woke up again, there was light filtering through the slab-covered windows. Beams of bright yellow reflected onto the worn-out floors, you looked at it for a minute, enjoying the warmth and almost pushing yourself back against the firm figure behind you. It was comfortable, peaceful, and reassuring, you realised there was an arm around you as well, keeping you close to them and to their warmth.

You looked at the spores floating in the light beams, dusty, you thought as you stared, it took you a moment to really gather where you were, who you were with and how you’d ended up there. You had slept, you had slept a lot and yet you felt tired. The toll of the previous night, the weight of your now dried tears, still heavy in your mind.

Did you want to cry again? Did you even deserve to?

What else could you do if not that?

“You’re awake?” Remus’ groggy voice asked from behind as he brushed a piece of hair off your face, immeasurably soft and tender.

“I was trying to convince myself it all had been a nightmare,” you replied with a sad, breathy laugh.

Remus shook his head, “You’re in a better mood, I see.”

“At least I’m not out there freezing anymore…” There was a bit of silence, and then your brain started working again.

Wait a minute… how did he find you?

You turned around hastily, Remus almost pulled back from how close your face was to his now, but he stayed where he was, he didn’t want to push you away by making any harsh movements.

“How did you… How did you know I needed help?”

“Sirius,” Remus admitted. You frowned, it still made no sense. Remus looked at you and then down at your neck, he could see the map charm hanging inside the necklace Sirius had given you. He picked it up and carefully rubbed his thumb over the original charm, “I think it has to do with this.”

You looked at his hands with a frown, the charm looked much smaller in his hands than it did in yours, “The necklace from El Maleficio?”

“I suppose Sirius never got around to telling you?” You gave him a confused look in response. “He’s got a burn on his hand, the moment he touched it, something happened, the man in the store said it was connected to him now, he assumed it was some sort of bIood magic or something.” You listened to him attentively as he continued, “he had an awful nightmare, he was seeing everything from your point of view.”

You swallowed, “So… he knows everything…” you said, there was a horrified expression on your face, as if Sirius knowing would be the end of your relationship.

“He asked me to get you after he saw Barty use the stunning spell,” Remus added. “He was worried.”

“Worried? Not angry not–”

Remus shook his head, knowing exactly what you meant. “You couldn’t get rid of us even if you went all Grindelwald, Little Witch.”

“Merlin, I’d hope you would get rid of me if I went all Grindelwald,” you replied almost instantly. Still, the sentiment was nice, to know that you’d have them on your side, both Remus and Sirius, no matter what. You were lucky to have a boyfriend and a best friend like that.

“Maybe lock you up in a cage until you reassessed your choices,” Remus joked as he turned to look at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to just stare into your eyes like he had been doing much longer without leaning in to kiss you. Oh, how he craved your lips sometimes. You shoved him lightly on the side and he made a rather exaggerated sound of pain.

“Drama queen,” you said as you shoved him again. He shook his head and laughed, now you too turned to look at the ceiling. It was as worn as the floor, some of the paint peeling, some of it scratched and broken. You assumed that it had been Moony.

There was a comfortable silence surrounding the two of you. You were warm as you lay close to him, but more than that, you felt safe. As if, now that you were with Remus, there was no danger, nothing could touch you in the small bubble inside the Shrieking Shack. You weren’t sure you wanted to step out, to face the real world.

Would there be consequences? Would you be criminally charged? Could they even criminally charge you with all the things you had seen them do?

“Sirius will probably want to speak to you,” Remus said. “I got him a radio for Christmas, there’s another one in our room, and we also use the mirror to see each other.”

“You made holoprojectors? Like in Star Wars?” you asked curiously, turning your face to look at Remus’.

“Kind of,” he replied. “It’s not exactly the same, we don’t have holographic projections of each other but–”

“–I bet you could do it!” you interrupted, “there’s bound to be a way in which you can use magic to make holoprojectors happen… at least until science catches up.”

Remus knew what you were doing, you were completely avoiding the topic of last night, leaving it in the back of your mind, trying to ignore it. If you didn’t pay attention to it then, it couldn’t have been real.

He wasn’t sure if he should let you, you had cried so much earlier, and while he loved to be the one to hold you, that didn’t stop the pressure in his chest as he saw you struggle. He didn’t want you to cry because it pained him to see you like that.

“I assume we could,” he conceded. Perhaps he could let you ignore it for a little longer, for as long as you needed. You probably still had to process all of it. And there was a lot to process. You had told him everything, from the start of the night to the end of it, albeit in between sobs and sniffles, he had a pretty strong picture of all of it, perhaps stronger than Sirius’ who had lived part of it alongside you.

After all, he had heard your feelings, not just seen what had happened. He knew what Evan and Barty had done for you, which had been perhaps the most surprising thing of the night, the fact that either of them had some sense of debt and that Evan felt he owed you something for not telling the truth to his father, which had just been basic human decency.

“Do you want to go back to the castle?” he asked.

“No,” you said honestly and pulled the raggedy covers over your head, they still kind of smelled like Padfoot, Vixen and Moony, that too was comforting.

“You want some chocolate?” he asked.

You peeked your head from the covers to look at him, your nose still covered but your eyes wide open and looking straight at him as you nodded.

“You’re hungry, then?”

You sighed and nodded. You weren’t sure you were in the mood to eat, but the rumbling in your stomach said otherwise. The toll of magic used the previous night was finally hitting you, and as your body worked to fill you with magic again, the used-up energy showed in the form of hunger, and meat craving.

That craving had been gone for a while, the longer time you spent with Rem the more it seemed to go away, but today it had come back and it had come back strong. You wondered if it had to do with how much of your magic you had used up, or perhaps it was the moon, or Remus also wanted meat and he was projecting that onto you.

If he had been the one to scratch you, did it make sense? There was not enough information on werewolves.

“Then we must go to the castle.”

You pulled the covers over your face again and dramatically buried your head in his chest. “No, Remus,” you said, voice muffled by his shirt. “Just give me the chocolate.”

“I have no chocolate.” You dug your hand in his pocket. There was an empty wrapper. “Oi!” he complained as he squirmed to the side.

Did he really have no chocolate? That was impossible. You didn’t really care much for his complaint and leaned a little closer, resting your elbow on top of him to check the other pocket. There was a folded piece of paper and nothing else. You placed the paper back in the spot and pulled the covers to look at him, still leaning half of your body on his.

He had that very smug expression on his face that clearly said ‘I told you so’.

“Are you done manhandling me?” he asked calmly.

“No,” you said as you tried to lift him up to check his back pocket, but he didn’t budge.

“There is no chocolate,” he repeated. “I have some in the castle, though.”

“Why do you insist on taking me there?” you asked with a pout, now letting your arms and head lay close to his sternum.

“Because Pomfrey is there,” he said honestly. “You should get checked.”

Your face turned cold, emotionless even. The little bubble you had allowed yourself to rest in completely bursting at the thought of going to the infirmary. Of getting checked, because last night had been real, because last night you had almost diеd frozen in the snow and then earlier attacked by Lucius or perhaps tortured by Bellatrix.

“It’s okay,” Remus said kindly, resisting the urge to place his hand on your head and play with your hair reassuringly, “She won’t ask questions, she’ll just make sure you’re okay.”

You took a slow controlled breath, your eyes watering as you avoided Remus’s gaze for a second, turning back to look at him as you wet your lips, they were dry and chapped from how much you’d cried. Going out seemed like an immense effort, like stepping back into reality and into the war. You’d have to talk to Dumbledore, or at least to Nightshade, you had to tell them about the dinner and about all the people you’d seen there. You couldn’t be sure if they were all dеatheaters, but they had definitely been accessories to the crimes committed.

Should you let the papers know? Would they even care?

There were about a million things swinging inside your head and you were aware that you couldn’t just stay cooped up in Remus’ arms and ignore everything completely, but that didn’t make it any less tempting. Perhaps Remus was a lot more like the Lethe than you originally thought, not because he made you forget everything that’s happened, but because his company offered a solace enough to cloud those thoughts out of your mind.

Ironically, there was nothing more calming than your friend the werewolf. Perhaps he was so calm and collected because he was a werewolf, spending all of his life with the goal of keeping his temper down and maintaining it in check. Like Bruce Banner, who was the calmest of superheroes (when he wasn’t the Hulk).

“Can we eat first and go to Pomfrey later?”

“No,” Remus said simply. You pouted in response. “Not even with that pretty pout of yours, sweetheart, it is non-negotiable.”

“But Remus I–”

“You can have a chocolate first,” he said as he lifted his hips slightly and handed over a small bar of chocolate.

You gasped as he passed it over to you, “You said there was no chocolate.”

Remus shrugged in response and broke off a piece of the chocolate in your hands, bringing it to his mouth and plopping it in. You laid your head on his chest again and bit off a piece yourself. You still didn’t want to go, you wanted to stay in the bubble, but bubbles were beautiful because they were ephemeral.

They were meant to burst and sparkle leaving traces of soapy water on the floor. And that’s exactly what you had to do now. You closed your eyes before standing up. You didn’t feel as sore as you thought you would, but when you stepped down on the floor you couldn’t stop the hiss that erupted from your mouth. Remus threw you a worried glance as he sat up on the bed “What is it?”

You pulled your feet up to your knee, there were blisters, and peeling skin, like you had been burned. Of course, you had been walking with no shoes. You had gotten badly ice burned. Your knees weren’t much better either. You hadn’t noticed since your dress covered most of them, and the emotional pain had been much worse than the physical one last night but they were also scuffed, a section already getting a scab while the other was just badly bruised.

Remus leaned over your shoulder to take a better look, “And you wanted to eat first.”

“I’m still hungry,” you said, trying to distract yourself with Remus’ calming smell instead of thinking about how you’d gotten those. Probably when Bella stunned you and–

“Can you walk?”

“Of course I can walk,” you responded as you stood up. Did it hurt? Hell-a-fucking-lot. Could you manage? Well, you’d have to.

“Sure?”

“Very,” you responded, avoiding gritting your teeth against one another completely.

You wished you had your wand, perhaps you could use some pain reliever spell or something. Remus stood up and put on his boots. You handed him his jumper and coat, he returned the latter one to you “Keep it, it’s cold outside.”

In reality, Remus was the last person to want to burst the bubble you’d created. If it was on him, he’d have stayed with you in the Shack ‘til the end of time. He loved how much closer you had veered to him, while during the night it had been for warmth, once awake he knew it was you, purposely laying your head on his chest and digging through his pockets.

He was also happy to see you. Or at least glimpses of you, not that broken, and terrified version of you he’d met the last night. He loved both the same, but there was nothing more heart-wrenching than your sobs and nothing more warming than your laughs, even if they were still slightly strained.

You put the coat on and the two of you walked towards the door and entered into the hallway. The sprinkle of soapy water falling as you both stepped into the dark. The beautiful, and warm environment instantly switched for the colder and unforgiving passageway you’d have to walk through to get to castle grounds.

Bring me to your house and tell me "Sorry for the mess", hey, I don't mind You're talking in your sleep, out of time Well, you still make sense to me, your mess is mine

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A/N: I feel like I've had you guys at the edge of your seats for two weeks and now you can finally breath. Gosh, Remus is insanly sweet~ How can I manifest a person like this in my life?

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fanaticsnail · 8 months

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You Kissed the Clown? Part 1

(Notes: Hello new friends! I have found myself fallen under the spell of the flashy fool himself and felt compelled to create something for him.)

(EDIT: This was my first ever fic on Tumblr. It was only ever meant to be a one-shot and it turned into a 15 part series 🤦‍♀️. I have so appreciated each and every one of you liking, commenting and inboxing me about this series and others. Thank you so so much 🥹)

(S1:E2 OPLA timeline)

Upon waking, you found yourself in an unfamiliar environment. Stuffed into a small crate with your three travelling companions, your dark haired friend referred to as a “crew”, your senses were still groggy from the crimson powder exploded above your small rigging.

After your “Captain”, Luffy, disclosed to the group he had consumed the map to the grand line to “keep it in a safe place”, the crate opened to reveal a darkened space. Applause rang throughout the area and your eyes were drawn to a spotlight being placed on a man dressed as a white lion. Several circus-type performers littered the room and directed the large crowd to respond with prompts written on large white panels held by several members. You noticed the features of the crowd were bearing terrified expressions, crying streaks littering their cheeks and some crusted over wounds adorning their faces and bodies.

Through the small opening of the red and white tent, a displeased figure appeared out of the shadows. You were immediately mesmerised by the figure, brightly coloured facial paint adorning his cartoonish features, a large brim hat with blue tassels hung over the folded edge and a collection of mismatched stripes, spots, fur and feather upon his physique. He had a dangerous air around him, full of malice, ill-temperament and a small amount of desperation amongst his features.

The blue haired man immediately berated his companions, yelling at them for the wrong timing, the queue being off, the lighting contrasting over a lion-like man instead of his own features. You looked to your green-haired swordsman companion, making brief eye contact with him and quirking up your brow in question. He shook his head at you and nodded back to bring your attention to the scene playing before you.

You had no idea how you were among this ragtag trio of misfits, especially as piracy was never an occupation you fancied for yourself. You and those within your family line were skilled jewellers; antiquity restoration, appraisal and fine gold and silver smithery was your trade. You and your father were requested to appear before Captain Morgan and add a new gem encrusted embellishment to his recently acquired new head for his Axe-Hand.

You witnessed the fight that was brought out with Helmeppo and several other marines at the skilled hands of Roronoa Zoro. At that point, your father decided he was no longer going to be working with Captain Morgan; no payment was enough to continue working for a man that allowed his child to bully those lesser than him. You were given a choice then to find your own way in the world and bring attention to your own skilled crafts or to sail home with your father to return to work in the shop as a finery smith. Opting for the former of the two, you bid farewell to your father and found yourself upon the small rigging with three companions of whom you had grown fond of.

Bringing you away from your thoughts and tuning back into the conversation, your gaze fell to your orange-haired friend, Nami, as she attempted to bribe the blue-haired clown with a new crew member with untold abilities. Before you could stop her, she threw Luffy’s straw hat into the air and bolted for the opening of the large tent. Two members of the circus crew managed to drag her back to the group which she then berated the jester before you for destroying the town the tent was situated in. The conviction she held in her voice sounded quite intimidating, but the clown just laughed in response. He used a small knife to cut a piece of apple and place it into his mouth, while nonchalantly saying he didn’t destroy everything in the town – he allowed the townspeople to keep their hands to applaud his act.

You inhaled through your nose deeply and widened your eyes at his comment, breathing out slowly through your mouth while fixating your gaze onto his relaxed form. He continued to look over the four of you with a twinkling smile as he consumed his crisp apple before his gaze fell over you.

“You,” he began, pointing at you with the small knife in his hand, “you have been awfully quiet.” He gestured to the rest of the crew with the same knife, “that one threatened me,” he said pointing at Zoro, “that one attempted to bribe me,” he pointed the knife at Nami while sauntering over to the spot you were situated, next to Luffi and Zoro.

“Your Captain lays claim to what’s rightfully mine,” he continued while stalking your form. Your eyes leave his form to look to your companions.

“Don’t you look away from me!” he yelled suddenly at you, causing you to flinch in response. Your body began to tremble slightly at his demands, not used to threats of great violence being thrown at you at a whim. He almost danced over to your place on the ground, bringing his body within an uncomfortable proximity to your own. He made no effort to hide his gaze raking over your body from the hair on your head to the shoes adorning your feet.

Although he had a large nose that immediately drew your attention to it, you couldn’t help but to notice the hue of his irises hidden amongst white, red and blue paint. The intensity of his gaze was drawing you in like a moth to a flame. The hue was akin to several fine gemstones you worked with in your family’s smithery. Jade, sapphire, tourmaline and emerald being the first stones that sprung to your mind while gazing at the angry and menacing clown before you.

“And what would you do, hm?” he condescendingly smirked at you, “you’re no fighter, by the looks of you.”

You held his gaze, staring deeply into his mischievous teal eyes while searching your mind for a response to his pointed question. He placed the small knife into his breast-pocket within his long fur coat and stalked slowly over to you like an animal prowling over to their meal. You trailed your eyes over his form slowly, raking and sizing him up with a small amount of unbridled suggestion held behind your eyelids.

Unsure if what came over you was bravery, stupidity or something else entirely, you reached your right hand forward and swiftly grasped the mustard coloured cravat hanging tightly from his neck and pulled him into you with all of your strength and successfully closed the distance between your bodies.

He was right of course, you were no fighter. Your skills lay in appraising fine metals, gemstones and hand whittled crafts. You read books filled with fairytales, poetry and refrains whispered between lovers. With your occupation, an aura of charisma would often aid in sales; whether you were doing the buying or the selling. You were known far and wide in your homeland as someone with a small amount of flirtatious charm, which was why you were asked to aid your father in his journey to the “tight-pocket” Captain Morgan. You were to charm him as you did many others, swindling them out of their apprehensions and bringing more berry to the till of your family’s business.

A shocked whimper left the lips of the Genius Jester as you tenderly placed your own lips against his, bringing your left hand to his side and using it to bring his body flush against your own, cradling him into a tender embrace. Your eyes were closed as you deepened the kiss shared between you. You began using your lips to open his and caressing them slightly with your tongue.

You slowly felt him relax into your embrace as he placed one hand to the back of your head and the other hand wove itself around you, placing it to the small of your back. He almost gently laced his gloved hand into your hair and held you tightly against him. He released a stifled gasp into your mouth as the hand on your lower back squeezed slightly, pressing your bodies closer together. You released your right hand and moved it tenderly from his cravat to his jaw, feeling the slightly prickled skin beneath his painted face.

Not a word was uttered, silence engulfing the space. In this instance, nothing existed to either of you apart from the moment you were sharing with one another. The map? Gone from both of your minds as you held each other tenderly. You arched your back, pressing your chest further into him as you began lacing your fingers into the hair peaking out from the bottom of his broad hat. You snaked your left hand around his waist, beneath his fur coat and raked your fingertips over his skin, causing him to moan into your mouth and cradle you further into him.

You utilized your head to nudge his own head upward for you to deepen the kiss further. Trailing your hand from the hair under his hat down towards his neck and exploring his pectorals, you massaged down his body while holding him tightly and skillfully in this heated embrace. Your fingers began to explore the flesh of his back, lifting the material slightly to expose his flesh to your administrations.

He did not withhold any sounds from escaping his lips, as small groans released from his lips between kisses alerted you to how much he was truly enjoying your touch. You even allowed some gasps to escape your own lips as you continued to caress, massage and cradle him to yourself as he held you.

You were not foreign to the romantic touch of others by any means, but this kiss felt unlike anything you had experienced prior. You could almost feel his desire for affection as he hungrily held your body against him. Waves of loneliness escaped from his form and onto you as he began to be filled instead with your freely given affection, unlike the painted women he would pay berry for their time.

He groaned slightly and furrowed his brows together at the thought, releasing your lips from his own and holding you to him. His eyes bore into your own as your lips parted from one another, almost gazing into your very soul with the intensity he held.

Without warning, he pushed you from his body and swatted your hands from their position on his back. He turned to face away from you and brought his gaze to your captain before monologuing.

“Ok, here end the theatrics,” he began as the spot lights filter onto the four of you.

“I know one of you have my map, and I’m gonna get it back,” he said with malicious intent.

“What was it you said, rubber boy? That it was ‘in a safe place’?” he mocked with a small glint in his eye. Luffy looked to you in confusion.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. I have eyes and ears everywhere,” he laughed. You trailed your eyes over his features, noticing the paint over his lips appeared more smudged than it had been moments prior. You then began to imagine how your face may appear after you shared the kiss with him moments prior.

“So,” he clapped his hands together and looked to his gang of circus members, “please make our guests uncomfortable in the green room.”

You felt hands clasp your wrists. You looked around to see a large man in a leotard grasping your form before you looked back to the clown. Your eyes met briefly once more, an unfamiliar emotion that could almost be described as a combination apprehension, longing and desire located in his eyes as your body was dragged to another location, this time without your captain amongst you.

You held little resistance as your body was escorted away. You looked to Luffy once more and attempted to reassure him with a nod as you walked briskly to be caged with your friends.

Nami was placed in a small cage suspended above the ground, whereas Zoro was bound to a large spinning wheel. As they were placed into these positions, their movements protesting and making it difficult for your captors to place them in these restricting positions; you held no such apprehension.

An aura of calm was coming from your form, confusing the large leotard-clad man. You placed your wrists together and held them out in front of you with a shrug and almost taunted him with how easy you were making this for him. His brows knit together in a puzzled fashion as he began to bind your hands in rope and tie you to a post away from your companions.

Once successfully restrained, the circus people left you with your thoughts as cries of laughter were echoing to the chamber that sounded like it was being pulled from the mouth of your captain.

“You kissed the clown?” uttered your green-haired, tri-sword wielding companion in a low accusatory tone, “why did you kiss the clown?”

You laughed slightly at the question, looking down at your bonds as you wiggled your hands against the tightly clasped rope, testing it for any sort of weakness amongst the restraint.

“I honestly can say I have no idea,” you smiled while pressing your knee against the post you were bound to with a small shove to assess its strength.

“It was incredibly stupid,” Nami commented from her enclosure, “if you were that touch-starved, I’m sure Zoro or Luffy wouldn’t have minded if you wanted to give them a little smooch.”

You turned your gaze over to Nami momentarily before rolling your eyes.

“Oh please,” you replied, “Zoro, I’m sure you are a wonderful kisser but unfortunately you don’t quite have what I’m looking for.”

He scoffed slightly at the comment while you moved your hands down to the hilt of your belt and began searching the folds of your skirts with your wrists.

“And if you don’t mind me asking, what does the dangerous clown-man have that Zoro doesn’t?” Nami asked with a teasing tone. Your wrists find the object within your belt and you smiled broadly, gripping it and bringing it to the light.

“Right now?” you said with a small twinkle in your eyes as you held the small object up to your new friends, "a knife."

For the first time in a while, the three of you shared a laugh before you all began to attempt an escape from the bonds of the green room.

Part 2

#buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #one piece #one piece live action #opla #buggy #captain buggy #kiss #creative writing #you #buggy x reader #buggy x y/n #unnamed reader #y/n no name #original character #buggy x female reader #buggy x kiss #x reader

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rafesapologist · 11 months

Text

the set up — rafe cameron; part seven

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: swearing as usual, fighting, angst, jj being a dick

author's note: so sorry for the slight delay in uploading this chapter. a bunch of stuff occurred in my personal life and tbh i didn't have the energy to do much after. however i will make up the delay and rushing this chapter a bit to you all in the next one, promise. love u

Sunlight pierced through the panels of the spacious, unaccustomed room as the sounds of a dawn chorus filled the tranquil silence that had filled the air amongst the pair of sleeping bodies that occupied the queen sized bed, belonging to you and Rafe. You found annoyance in the intensity of the sun's lurid rays of light that burned through your shut eyelids, acknowledging them with a small groan that escaped your lips as you turned your back to face the window instead.

Your heart nearly stopped when you felt the mattress move besides you as the broad figure lying behind you shifted, only to make the beating inside your chest pick up when you began to feel a brawny arm drape itself over your side and across your stomach steadily. Your body had unconsciously laid in place at the feeling of the sudden embrace, an act of intimacy you had rarely experienced in your life before that rendered you slightly uncomfy with the gesture, as physical touch was not your highest on the list of love languages that existed.

You remained a recumbent statue in the arms of the Cameron's son as you contemplated within your internal dialogue on how to remove yourself from the position you were in all while taking in the final moments of serenity as you basked in the comfort of the cozy bed, a contrast to the one you usually found yourself sleeping in at the chateau.

Eventually, you brought yourself to speak after regaining your voice from the prolonged period of time you went without using your vocal cords. "Rafe?" You whispered sheepishly as you gently turned to face the slumbering boy, poking his bicep lightly in hopes that he was a light-sleeper and that it would be useful in waking him, but much to your despair, it didn't.

"Rafe." You muttered once again, this time your voice had taken a greater, harsher resonance.

"Hmm?" Rafe hummed, a husky low-vibrato tone strumming from the back of his throat that was shamefully music to your ears.

"I gotta get going. Jay and John B want me to go boating with them today and I promised them I'd go." You explained meekly.

Rafe seemed to take interest in your statement, judging by the way he peeked a single eye open to look at you. "Tell them something came up." He carped, scooting his body closer to you once more as his hold became tighter around your figure, one that was much more petite in comparison to his broadness.

"Rafe," you groaned as you rolled your eyes at his stubborn nature, "you know I can't do that."

"I know," he groaned to himself, "you've got your Pogue duties to uphold."

You swatted his arm in response which quickly brought him out of his comatose-like state, his eyes flashing open as he looked directly at you with an appearance of bafflement written across his face. You giggled quietly to yourself at his comical reaction, taking amusement in the way that he was in shock by your comeback. Your body began to shift and wiggle underneath Rafe's arm in an attempt to free yourself from his grip, but unfortunately, he was much stronger than you had imagined.

"Wait," Rafe stated as he held your feeble body in place, "I wanted to ask you something before you leave."

"Ask me what?" You furrowed your brows at him.

"It's probably a little soon to even ask this, but there's nobody else I really want to take besides you," he began, watching your expression closely as his eyes flickered between your lips and irises as he traced gentle lines along the exposed part of your hip, "and since it's coming up I don't think there's a better time to ask.." He trailed off, breaking eye contact before he could finish.

"Would you go to Midsummers with me?" It was almost too perfect of a scenario when you heard those words come out of Rafe's mouth, unaware to what situation he had just got himself into. You practically screamed internally once the realization finally hit you that you were going in the right direction with the unsuspecting Kook, just as you and your friends had planned for. You felt a subtle smirk tug at the corners of your mouth as you basked in the bliss of knowing that Rafe Cameron was beginning to unshield himself to you, an accomplishment that you knew the Pogues would feel joyous to hear. You knew right then that you had to take full advantage of the opportunity basically handed right to you on a silver platter, and run with it.

"Of course I will."

"Wai-What? You will?" Rafe's azure pigmented eyes widened in shock, failing to grasp your willing compliance that had come so easily.

"Yes," you chuckled with an attitude full of gaiety, "of course I will." You figured you'd add to the moment of sentiment by leaning forward to press a light kiss to the apple of Rafe's cheek, which soon become painted over with a rosy tint as evidence of the heat that rose to the skin as the aftermath of experiencing your touch.

"Okay awesome," the elated Kook grinned as he patted your hip softly, "Sarah is going too, and I know you guys are friends or whatever, so if you want you can always go dress shopping with her."

"What color is your suit?" You asked.

"Baby blue, which I'm sure you'll look hot in as you always do. Gonna be hard to keep my hands off you when I see you in a dress." Rafe teased, his thumb had began easing its way underneath the hem of your t-shirt, rubbing against the warm skin of your hipbone slowly.

"You're gonna have to control yourself then, Cameron. I don't want your dad thinking I'm some whore you picked up at the Cut." You bantered back at him, removing his hand off of your bare skin and causing him to pout in response.

"Well, my dad knows I wouldn't step foot in that shit hole. So I think you'd be safe from those allegations." Rafe smirked just before he reached over behind you to smack your ass playfully, removing himself off the bed before you could even begin, let alone attempt, to retaliate.

"Lets go, princess. I'll drive you where you need to go."

"Didn't you just say you wouldn't step foot in the Cut?" You retorted with your arms folded across your chest, glaring over at the boy with your brows furrowed in judgement.

"I guess doing it for you would suffice."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Rafe kept his word by dropping you off at the boating dock as you waited for your friends arrival, taking you in by surprise when he peppered an array of small kisses to the top of your shoulder before you got out of the car. The affectionate, soft side of him came as a shock to you considering he was so austere and gelid with others from what you had seen of him since the day you two met. You wondered to yourself if it was his way of buttering girls up to get something out of them, or that he truly had taken a liking to you. Either ways it didn't matter, because you were only playing along for one reason.

The Pogues.

"John B! JJ!" You shouted as the sight of a familiar-looking boat came into your view and approached the dock. You were pleased as the faces of the two boys on it became clearer to you, confirming that it actually was your two friends.

"Y/n, hey!" John B yelled back as he waved in your direction, a welcoming smile plastered on his face.

"Well look at that, you actually showed up!" JJ called from beside your brunette friend, his affable demeanor causing you to feel giddy and your heart flutter. You shook your head at the blond's foolishness, giggling as you hopped onto the boat and greeted the two who you had missed dearly, despite seeing them within the 48 hours prior.

"You think I would rather spend my time with some Kook than you guys? That's hilarious, Jay."

"I dunno, you've been spending a lot more time with him lately. Have you two fallen in love yet?" John B added, egging on for your attitude to make its presence shown.

"First of all, never. Second of all, if you forgot this was your guys' idea in the first place. I wouldn't have even looked at him twice if it wasn't for you all." You sighed, crouching down to reach for one of the beer cans that the boys usually kept in the cooler.

"That's my girl." JJ replied as he approached you from behind, wrapping an arm over your shoulder once you stood up from the cooler. You found yourself smiling at his words of endearment, partially basking in the way that he praised you like no other. If there was one thing JJ was good at, it was hyping you up and making you feel special, something he took pride in doing whenever he was around you. Your mutual friends found it strange, the way that you two were so seemingly affectionate with one another yet never once brought up the idea of formally dating. You'd be lying if you had said you never pondered on the thought of what it would be like to be with JJ Maybank, your best friend since childhood and the first boy you kissed back in elementary school. You imagined that it would be easy if it were him who you ended up with. You pictured a future of you coming home from a long day at work and being lavished in his soft kisses and warm embrace that would feel like home in itself. But you knew that it was also risky, the idea of two Pogues getting involved in some romantic entanglement that would likely only shake up the state of your friend group.

But you still wondered nevertheless, even if you knew you wouldn't dare act on it.

"You guys will be proud of what I did, though." You announced, quickly capturing the attention of the Pogue boys with a muddled look on their faces.

"What did you do?" JJ eagerly asked as he stared down at you while he awaited your next statement.

"Rafe asked me to go to midsummers with him and I said yes." You answered, a smug smile forming across your chapstick-glazed lips as you tilted your head back to take a sip of the rather distasteful beer.

"You're kidding. Are you being serious, y/n? Holy shit." John B promulgated his shock shamelessly, impenitent on his excitement towards the success of the Pogues' plan on exploiting Rafe Cameron through his desires and urges in order to gain the necessary information from him. Everyone had figured you would be the best decoy in order to reach the Kook Prince himself, but they had never expected her would crumble so fast and effortlessly.

You took notice of the way that JJ's energy had faltered all of the sudden, him practically becoming mute in a matter of seconds after you had announced your victory. You frowned at his silence, expecting for him to be the one to celebrate the matter with you, but instead it seemed as though he was tangled up in a deep thought.

"Jay, what's wrong?" You whispered to the blond in a hushed tone that was barely audibly to surrounding individuals, such as John B.

"Yeah I'm okay." JJ vacillated.

"Don't lie, I can tell them something is wrong." You asked, insistant that there was more to it than JJ was letting out.

"Just drop it, y/n. I'm alright. Can you just live with that?" His austerity took you by surprise, a stark contrast to JJ's normally frivolous attitude. You peered up at him as you surveyed the look on his face, trying to draw a conclusion about whatever it was that he was feeling in that moment. You were left with little to no answers as to where his head was at, seeming as though he was masking his emotions as he tended to do when he was feeling vulnerable. However, you did catch a glimpse of the way he winced momentarily, his face washing over in subtle agony for a brief second before returning back to its previous state.

"Are you.. hurt? You observed the cue that suggested JJ was in some state of discomfort.

JJ responded rather satirically with a dry laugh, disconnecting his gaze from yours as he began to advert his view towards the floor of the boat.

"Don't know," he shrugged, "ask Rafe and his Kook friends."

"Is that what this is about, JJ?" You furrowed your brows in discontent, sending daggers at the blond whose bitterness exhibited within his mannerisms as though it was on display in a glass case right in front of your face.

"What are you talking about?"

"You got all pissy with me the second I mentioned going to midsummers with Rafe, now you're making snide comments about him as if we're actually together." You scoffed.

JJ shook his head, "It wouldn't surprise me if you were dating him. I mean, you were supposed to be in this for us and now you spend every day with him. You've probably already slept with him too."

Your arms fell to your sides as the tension in your body released all at once, taken over by an affliction in your chest that rendered you nearly speechless. The irritation written on your face dropped into an expression full of chagrin and detriment as JJ's perfervid locution incinerated your pride. You stood before your so called 'friend' with your mouth slightly agape while the reality of his words settled in painfully.

"I did this for you, asshole! How else am I supposed to gain his trust without seeing him and spending time with him, JJ? What good does that do for us, or even for me, if I keep my distance just because it makes you uncomfortable? I can't believe you would say that to me, considering what I'm trying to do for you right now. Just for you to throw it back in my face." You spat, throwing your hands up in the air in an act of defense.

"Y/n... You know that's not what I meant, I-"

"I should go." You cut him off, gathering your tote bag quickly as you began to avoid JJ's burning stare. "John B, can you drop me off at the closet dock? I'm leaving."

"Y/n wait, please." JJ pleaded, urgency oozing from the whine in his tone. However you didn't care, the only thing you could think about was getting as far as hell away from him as possible before you said or did something that would permanently damage your friendship.

You kept your back turned to him, acting as though he simply wasn't there, standing behind you with a pitiful look on his face.

"John B, please." You whispered to your brunette companion, barely audible so that only he could hear your plea.

"I got you." He spoke quietly back at you, providing you a sense of reassurance with a subtle wink.

John B had kept his word, thankfully. Lucky for you, there was a boat dock barely five minutes away and with Routledge's driving, you were sure to get there fast. He stopped as promised upon the first dock that appeared, sending you on your way after you hugged him briefly and exchanged some see you later's. JJ, of course, continued begging for you to hear him out within those painfully long five minutes, to which you ignored for both of your guys' sake. You basically got off that boat as soon as you possibly could, wanting to flee as fast as you could as anger and resentment laid heavy in your mind. You knew that you'd speak to JJ eventually, but not right then. Not with so many emotions boiling up at the pit of your stomach.

You power-walked to the other end of the dock before your feet quickly hit the sand. You sighed a breath of relief, feeling as though a weight had partially been lifted since you had removed yourself from the conflict that had occurred. You looked around for a brief moment, bitterness still heavy in your heart, before reaching into your tote and pulling out your phone as you scanned through your contacts urgently.

"Rafe? Yeah, hi. I hate to bother you right now, but do you care to come and get me right now?"

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #obx4 #rafe angst #rafe cameron angst

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anonymous-dentist · 9 months

Text

Or. The Among Us au.

Now, Cellbit thinks that there may be a problem when he wakes up one Tuesday morning to find tentacles bubbling out of his mouth. Because he’s reformed, see. He went to prison. He went to therapy. He did his time. He’s better now, and so, really, he should be human. He’s gotten very good at it.

But it’s also the morning after his arrival on the ISS Quesadilla, himself being one of five new crewmates sent by the Federation to explore the galaxy and look for… something. He doesn’t know what, exactly; he doesn’t have high enough clearance yet, and he never will if he doesn’t get his fucking tentacles-

On the bunk across from him, Mike groans and throws a lumpy pillow at him.

“Stop being an alien, God,” he groans. “Go back to sleep, our shift doesn’t start for another three hours.”

And, well. Cellbit can’t argue with that logic. He’s probably just nervous, that’s all. He’ll be back to looking like a human when he’s calmed down some.

Cellbit closes his eyes, lets out a long, artificial breath (aliens don’t need to breathe, after all), and he lets himself relax. It’ll be fine.

It isn’t fine. It’s five hours later and his tentacles are gone but his teeth have sharpened into four rows of fangs and it’s very hard to talk. Luckily, his helmet is covering up most of the nasty stuff. Luckily, almost everyone on his shift already knows he’s a secret alien except for Forever, and Forever seems smart enough not to snitch if he knows what’s good for him.

The problem is that Cellbit knows why he’s suddenly devolving. He knows exactly what’s going on, and he really doesn’t know how to feel about it. Because he was alone in the universe two days ago, and now his internal biology is registering the presence of another alien somewhere on the ship, and it’s horrifying.

Cellbit can’t concentrate like this. He keeps biting his lips when he tries to communicate with his team. The wires in the electrical panels aren’t making any sense all of a sudden. His hands are shaking too badly for him to be able to swipe his I.D. card. He explains it to his Federation supervisor as space sickness and Pac and Mike back him up, and he assures Cucurucho that he’ll be in working condition by the end of the week, he promises!

But then it’s lunch, and Cellbit is eating alone in his and Pac and Mike and Forever’s cabin because his mouth is a biological garbage disposal.

This sucks.

Cellbit picks at his food, unable to even digest it in the state he’s in. Aliens, unlike humans, can’t eat vegetables. They eat flesh. Any kind, but Cellbit grew up eating human flesh. But that was then, and this is now, and, now, Cellbit is looking at a tray of frozen space vegetables and he thinks he’s going to be sick.

Knock-knock!

Cellbit’s first, instinctual response is a hiss as he flinches. His jaw splits in half down the middle, fangs bared, but then he remembers, wait, humans don’t fucking do that.

So he forces his jaw shut with his hands and pulls on his helmet. Just in case.

“Hello?” he calls.

“Hola?” is what he gets in response, and his stomach clenches because this is a very human-sounding human. “You are Cellbit, right?”

Cellbit ponders. Then, “Yes. Why?”

“Okay, yes! So Cucurucho sent me to bring you to medical-”

Oh, God. A scan is the last thing that Cellbit needs right now.

So Cellbit immediately interjects. “No, no! I’m fine! I told them I’m fine!”

“Oh, you’re fine,” the human sarcastically says. “You’re wearing a helmet, culero, I can hear it from out here. Come on, man, the faster you do this, the faster it is over with.”

Well. He does have a point. Besides, Cellbit has fudged his way through plenty of scans before. This one will just be a little more difficult, that’s all.

Cellbit puts his lunch aside and he opens the door and he stops pretending to breathe. The other crewmate is also wearing a helmet, but, through it, Cellbit can see the most beautiful eyes in the galaxy.

Said eyes crinkle up in a smile as Cellbit steps outside into the hallway and closes the door behind him. The helmet’s visor only allows access to the eyes, but Cellbit has a feeling that this man’s face is just as captivating.

“Great!” the human cheerily says. “You don’t look dead, at least!”

He laughs, and Cellbit finds himself laughing along with him. It’s catchy. This is fine.

“Come on, you’re new, right?” the human asks. He turns around and starts down the hallway to the left towards… medical? “I’ll show you the way.”

Cellbit swallows a tentacly lump in his throat and follows, two exact steps behind.

“It’s always good to get new people,” the human says. “We lose a lot of crewmates.”

“I’ve heard,” Cellbit politely says. He bites his lip again and winces. Attempt seventeen of trying to will his teeth into their human forms, go!

It’s true, though. The Quesadilla goes through more crew members than any other ship in the Federation’s fleet. It’s probably why nobody in Cellbit’s group had actually been interviewed before they were hired. Amateurs…

“It’s crazy, man. They’re dropping like flies!” the human exclaims, hands gesturing wildly.

He turns his head back to look at Cellbit, crinkled eyes glittering.

“Good luck,” he says.

Cellbit smiles back. Thank goodness for his helmet, because he can feel his jaw begin to split apart again.

“Thank you,” he weakly says. At least his vocal cords are working… and at least he doesn’t actually need his mouth to speak. “Maybe we’ll even get to work together in the future.”

He hopes so. He hopes that he can find this other alien and try to work with them to get themselves (because he knows that the other alien has to be having the same problem as him right now) together. Then Cellbit can actually do his job, and then he might even get a promotion. One step closer to his goals, and one step closer to-

The human clicks his tongue. “Now, now, don’t you know who you’re talking to?”

He taps at a badge on his chest with a gloved finger.

“‘Roier’,” Cellbit reads.

“Uh-huh. I’m Cucurucho’s favorite.”

“I didn’t know that they could have favorites.”

The human- Roier- sniffs haughtily. “Yes, and I am one.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t ever work together,” Cellbit says.

He dares step closer until he and Roier are next to each other. They’re about the same height, he notices, though he can tell even through the bulky spacesuit that Roier is far more built than Cellbit has been since he was a teenager.

“I don’t know,” Roier replies, shrugging. “Maybe. Who knows? Cucurucho is picky, you know?”

Cellbit remembers the disdainful look send in his direction when he had failed his first card swipe. Yeah, he knows.

The conversation slows to a comfortable silence, mostly because Cellbit is tired of almost biting his own face off.

And then they’re at Medical.

Cellbit pauses outside the door. Roier rolls his eyes and yanks him in, announcing their presence with a loud, “Ay, Missa!”

The medical staff on shift, a tall human in a black spacesuit with his helmet off, screeches and tumbles out of his chair.

Cellbit bites back a laugh. Roier doesn’t bother even trying to stay professional. He even walks over to Missa’s crumpled form and kicks him lightly in the side.

“Roier…” Missa complains.

“Do your job, pendejo, Cucurucho sent us.”

At the mention of Cucurucho, Missa scrambles to his feet, pale. He picks up a clipboard off of his desk and moves to close and lock the door.

Cellbit shuffles awkwardly to the side. Okay, deep breaths…

“Space sickness,” Roier explains.

“But I’m fine, really,” Cellbit tries.

Missa shuts him down with a firm shake of the head.

“Strip,” he says.

And then he flushes a bright red and stammers, “I- I mean your suit! You can hang it in a locker!”

Clearly embarrassed, he points toward a line of lockers against the far wall.

Cellbit gulps. But he… strips, gloves first and then his suit. Last, his helmet, which really should’ve been done first, but…

Luckily, his face is mostly under control again. He doesn’t feel too inhuman as he adjusts his hair in the reflection of a nearby data screen. He may be about to receive a death sentence, but he can at least look good doing it.

He turns around and faces the scanner, blushing just ever so slightly as he hears Roier gasp to himself. If he was human, he wouldn’t have heard it, it’s so quiet. And so, since he’s supposed to be human, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Just step on up, and we’ll get you done,” Missa says. He smiles, trying.

Cellbit offers a closed-mouth smile back, not trusting himself to show teeth.

He steps onto the scanner and closes his eyes, desperately hoping that it comes up as human as the ones back on Earth did-

“Oh, shit,” he hears Missa say. “It isn’t- oh, shit!”

Of course.

“What is it?” Roier demands. “Tell me!”

“I need to call Cucurucho, Roier, call Cucuruch-”

He coughs and slumps to the floor and slides off of Cellbit’s sharpened tentacle before Cellbit even realizes that he had transformed.

Oh, fuck.

Panicked, Cellbit recalls his tentacle and flinches at the taste of blood, delicious and disgustingly familiar, and his eyes open instinctively but he can’t see, it’s all just a blur, and he backs off of the scanner and-

“Hey! Cellbit! It’s fine, okay?” he hears Roier say. His voice is distant, like a dream. But Cellbit latches onto it, anyway.

Two heavy hands settle on his shoulders. Cellbit hisses, eyes narrowing and jaw splitting and fangs emerging, but then-

“Calma,” Roier gently says. “Hold on. Let me show you something.”

Cellbit can’t move. Roier is letting go of him and reaching for his own helmet, still unremoved. And then he removes it, and Cellbit is so shocked that he can’t keep his tentacles from falling out of his mouth again.

Roier is beautiful. High cheekbones, freckles, smiling eyes, soft hair, and fangs the size of toothpicks forcing his mouth ajar.

“See?” Roier asks, and that’s when Cellbit realizes that he isn’t talking in any human language anymore. This is their language, one Cellbit thought he was the last living speaker of. “It’s fine, okay?”

He smiles, and it’s terrifying in its beauty.

Cellbit manages to suck his tentacles back up, and then he smiles back.

“I thought I was alone,” he says.

“How do you think I felt, huh? What are you doing here!”

Roier lightly punches Cellbit’s shoulder.

There aren’t any security cameras in the Quesadilla, Cellbit had made sure if that before signing up for the trip. And if he can’t trust another alien, then what’s the point of this biological homing device? Aliens stick together, that’s how it always has been. Well. Had. (It’s a little hard to stick together when you’re all dead.)

So he doesn’t hesitate at all before saying, “My best friend is on board this ship. He was kidnapped.”

Roier’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit! Is he-”

“He’s human.”

“Oh.”

It’s just the two of them.

“Okay,” Roier says. “So now there’s two of us.”

“Yes. And it’s a little inconvenient having to deal with the, uh…”

Cellbit glances towards Roier’s fangs. Are they sharper than his? God.

Roier shrugs. “Eh, it’ll be fine. We just keep our helmets on until our bodies decide to calm down.”

Well, he isn’t at all concerned. He should be. He absolutely should be. But… there have been a lot of disappearances on the ship.

Roier, it seems, is very good at playing human.

Cellbit lets out an excited, nervous breath. He glances at Missa’s corpse, surprise and fear still written on his face.

“We need to report this,” Cellbit says.

Roier raises an eyebrow. “Por qué? Why? He is dead.”

“Yes, and it’ll look worse if we don’t tell anyone.”

This, Cellbit is more than used to. He may be reformed, but he had a very long time to hone his craft.

Slowly calming down, Cellbit goes to start pulling his suit back on. He even manages to get his fangs to shift. Okay.

“Okay,” Roier agrees. “If anybody asks, we were coming in here for sex.”

Cellbit’s face splits open in shock.

Roier cackles, and Cellbit can only wonder if this is truly what fate has brought to him.

#spiderbit #guapoduo #qsmp fic #a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#fucking among us au ig #guys I did it

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 8 months

Text

"Daddy Please" Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023 Day 3 Stepdad!Dave York x Reader

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. This blog is a personal space and I write predominantly smut, with some dubcon and other Dead Dove Do Not Eat level content. I will always pre-warn for anything triggering and will always endeavour to include tw/cws in the tags, and warnings at the top of my fics. Please heed these warnings and the warnings put in place on each individual fic and chapter. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact. Specific Warnings: Daddy Kink, Sex Work, OnlyFans, Cam work, Infidelity, Step-Cest, Dave York(he always needs his own warning), Possessive!Dave, Men being sexist dicks on the internet, choking, degradation, rough sex, rough oral sex, exhibitionism. Let me know if I missed anything! Graphic made by me, does not convey shape, race, or hair colour of reader, the panties just looked so good, no use of Y/N.

Summary: Your hot stepdad Dave York catches you creating OnlyFans content. [Read on AO3] - [Ko-Fi]

Dave

“Honey? I’m home!”

Dave calls from the front door as he shucks off his dress shoes, hoping beyond hope that his wife was home and his stepdaughter – you – were not. But silence is all that greets him, neither of you it seems are home. He sighs to himself and heads straight for his basement, or his man cave as your mom calls it.

He descends the stairs slowly, fatigue making his body sag, frustration making his neck ache from strain. He’s been gone two weeks on a business trip in Hawaii, to you and your mom, it was some tax scandal for a congressional race in Arizona. In reality, it was a hit on some one-percenter who had fallen on the wrong side of a cartel.

Money can’t buy sense.

He thinks to himself as he throws his suit jacket and briefcase down on the tan, L-shaped sofa in the middle of the basement. He flicks on the TV to check the news and as expected, his hit was on every channel. He smiles morbidly to himself at his anonymous infamy. He groans and stretches as he looks around the bare, dark wood panelled walls, he really needs to remember to decorate this space someday.

The TV runs as background noise as Dave steps into the small office to the right of the basement. He strips bare, his clothes pooling at his feet as he locks the door behind him. This room is more his own, a double bed with crisp white sheets dominates the room. A desk and computer with multiple monitors squeezed into the right side of the room, and a door leading to his ensuite. A small dresser acts as a nightstand wedged between the wall and the bed.

The small space comforts him, one door in, one door out. No windows, no surprises. He lets out a long, heavy sigh of relief as he lets himself relax for the first time since he left two weeks ago. Dave pads into the bathroom and showers, brushes his teeth, and shaves the two weeks of stubble from his face.

Suitably refreshed he throws on a pair of sweatpants and flops down into his leather office chair. He wakes his computer from sleep and pulls up his VPN, scrambling his IP manually before logging into a private browser. Some of it is habit, some part of it is to make sure his wife never sees his browsing history. He doesn’t bother with headphones, no-one is home, and he probably won’t last long anyway.

He almost feels ashamed, sneaking around like a teenager, but when your mom refuses to so much as touch Dave when you’re around, he feels like he has no other choice. The video starts and the streamer is nowhere to be seen, her usual purple sheets are made neatly, her blackout curtains drawn as always. But there’s something new, something that Dave feels uneasy about.

A string of bumblebee fairy lights; hung over her headboard. Double layered in a rainbow of colours that pulse and fade like fireflies in the Summer. Something about it is too familiar, something he feels like he should recognise. He shakes himself out of it, turning to the comments to smirk at their desperation as the stream officially starts with her usual greeting.

“Hey there Daddies, you miss me?” The sweet lilt of his favourite OnlyFans streamer, Princess Luna, is like music to his ears as he feels his cock hardening before she’s even on screen. Comments flash up in the live chat straight away, and Dave chuckles to himself.

He never comments, he just subscribes on his private credit card, tips generously, and almost never misses a stream. Especially when it’s her. He feels superior to the others, never begging for attention, just admiring her in a way he feels no-one else can. He knows he’s being more than a little delusional, but he doesn’t care.

Moments like this, he can forget about how miserable his marriage is.

ImUrDaddy: Oh baby where’ve you been? Daddy’s cock has missed you.

StepDadz129: Fuck Princess, come on let us see you. Daddy needs you.

PDaddy1$: Stop teasing me Luna darlin’, show me that tight little cunt.

The messages keep on coming but Dave isn’t looking anymore, all he sees is Luna sliding into view. As always, Luna’s face is covered with an elaborate masquerade mask. This one is a deep burgundy with black lace forming a veil over her mouth, with gold filigree in swirling baroque floral patterns around her eyes giving her a mystical air.

Her dark red lace panties and bra compliment the mask as she settles on her knees in the middle of her bed. He slips his cock out of his sweatpants and takes himself in one hand, sliding over the soft foreskin languidly as he takes in her breasts. Salivating at the way they swell over her lacy cups, begging to be freed.

“I’ve missed you Daddy, been so tense these last few days, missing my step daddy so much.” She continues and Dave groans audibly at the taboo pet name, his cock already fully hard.

“He’s been away for two whole weeks, and all I want is him to stuff me full of his fat cock until he spills his load in me.”

Dave tries to push the nagging feeling in his mind away, something is off, but he grits his teeth as he focuses on the beautiful woman on screen, her hands already pulling her lacy bra down over her pert nipples. He slowly pumps his cock, desperate for release but he’s not going to let himself go. Not yet. The shows only just begun.

~*~

You

A knock at the front door startles you, your two fingers are deep inside you as the stream begins to heat up.

“Shit,” You curse to yourself and quickly spring up from the bed, “Sorry Daddy, I’ll be right back.”

You hear the comment notifications go wild in your wake and you silently bless whatever distraction has come up. Your viewers are going to be so thirsty for you once you get back. You shoulder on a black silk robe embroidered with white cranes and loosely tie it around you.

You hurry down the stairs, eyes glued to your phone where you watch the comments come in on the stream.

PDaddy1$: Baby! Come back you were doing so good for me!

ImUrDaddy: Aw baby don’t be a brat, I know there’s no-one there!

StepDadz129: Bitch!

You roll your eyes, clicking the mute button on the one comment before you hop down the bottom step. You check yourself out in the hall mirror for good measure, modest enough to answer the door but slutty enough to raise an eyebrow. You grin triumphantly and open the door wide, clinging to the edge of the door to greet them.

~*~

Dave

Rage courses through Dave’s veins as he sees the slew of abuse popping up on the chat the moment Luna disappears. He hates it when the entitled pricks come out to play.

His head snaps towards the basement stairs when he hears the sound of someone in the hall upstairs. Immediately Dave switches into work mode, ripping the desk drawer almost off the runners as he snatches up his pistol. He snaps in a mag and stuffs his achingly hard cock back into his pants.

He stalks back up the basement stairs, breathing slow, regulating his heartbeat as he prepares to face the intruder. He cracks the basement door open and sighs with relief as he quickly flicks the safety on his gun before stowing it in the back of his waistband.

It’s just you.

He thinks to himself as he eyes you from behind, the basement door has a perfect view to the front door, and more importantly your bare legs. His breath catches in his throat as he takes in the silk robe hugging your curves so beautifully. He hears your flirtatious giggle and if he wasn’t already hard, he knows he would be just at the sound of it.

Get it together, that’s your stepdaughter.

He scolds himself internally, but thinking it only makes him ache more. Isn’t that exactly what he was just watching on OnlyFans? He shakes himself out of his dark thoughts just as you finish signing for the parcel.

“Thanks dude, have a great day!” You call to the delivery driver and Dave makes his exit hastily. He closes the door without a sound and creeps back down to the basement.

Only once he’s back in his chair, watching abusive comments piling up in the live chat does he let out the breath he’s been holding. He stows his gun once more and waits for Luna to return.

She steps back into view with her phone in hand, black robe with embroidered white cranes on the hem. She’s texting in earnest before throwing the phone back down on the bed. A notification comes through on Dave’s phone and if he wasn’t already joining the dots the confirmation makes him almost come in his pants. The text comes through, from you.

Hey Dave, package for you on the kitchen counter, can’t wait to see you later! Xx

His heart is in his throat, surely it has to be a coincidence, some fucked up twist of fate. That can’t be you? You can’t be Princess Luna, surely?

“Sorry Daddy, a parcel came for you, left it on the kitchen counter for you.”

Then he hears it clear as day, you alter your voice a little, maybe you use software, or are just that fucking good an actress. He honestly can’t tell.

But the moment the robe drops from Luna’s shoulders he just knows.

“It’s you.”

~*~

“So where were we Daddy?”

You ask to the webcam, mask secured, and panties pulled to the side, aimed directly at the professional camera you have mounted on your desk. You pull your phone back up to check the messages once more.

A litany of abuse for leaving too soon from your lowest tier supporters, typical. You have to have thick skin in this line of work, so you just mute a few before a familiar username pops up. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, it’s your favourite customer. The faceless, voiceless patron of your works that simply pays your highest tier, tips often, and not once has he given you abuse.

DukeSilver09: Hey there hon, don’t listen to these pricks, you’re doing a great job for me Princess.

Your cheeks heat up at his kindness and for the first time, you’re not just getting off to your own fantasies.

“What’s your story then Duke Silver? Fan of Parks and Rec?”

DukeSilver09: Yeah, my stepdaughter recommended it to me for when I’m travelling.

Your brows furrow for a second, trying to remember if you’d recommended it to Dave, or if it was just some crazy coincidence.

“Good taste, you fuck her yet Duke?”

You feel your orgasm building as you work a third finger inside you, rubbing your clit frantically as you imagine it’s Dave on the other end of this conversation. God, you wish. All you’ve wanted since they got married last year was to get him in your bed.

A girl can dream.

DukeSilver09: Not yet, but I think I’m about to get lucky.

“Good for you Duke, fuck her like the good little girl she is.”

You’re vaguely aware of the other men in the chat, some loving this interaction between you, some jealous, some angry, but you don’t care. All you care about is this stranger bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

~*~

Dave

Unbeknownst to you, Dave is leaning against the wall opposite your bedroom, waiting, phone in hand as he continues to watch you. He has headphones in to make sure he can still hear you without alerting suspicion. Dave types out a reply instantly.

DukeSilver09: She’s no angel, trust me, I know she’s filthy. I see the way she fucks me with her eyes at dinner.

Dave watches as you convulse on the bed, fingers working into your wet pussy, the squelching almost audible through the door. But maybe that was just his imagination running wild.

“Oh fuck, yeah? Well make sure to make her pay for being such a slut, sounds like she deserves to be punished.”

He groans aloud at that, and you freeze on the screen, Dave curses under his breath as he clamps his mouth shut.

This was stupid, fuck get out of there.

“Daddy?”

Dave looks down at the screen and sees that the livestream is muted, the sound hadn’t come from his headphones. He looks up and watches in disbelief as you open the door, robe on, mask off. Looking at him with a knowing look that would make even the toughest man flinch.

But Dave’s no ordinary man.

~*~

You

Dave stands there for a moment, frozen in place, but his face is anything but shocked. His one eyebrow is cocked, his plump lips curved up into a smirk, making his cheek dimple.

“Hey there Princess, what’re you doing in there? Got a guy over? You know how your mom feels about you having the door shut if you have visitors.”

“Nope, no-one here but me, Da- Dave.” You falter, already the taboo falling too easily from your lips.

It can’t have been him? Surely not, this is just some fucking weird coincidence, right?

“Then you won’t mind if I come in? Check on those fairy lights?”

“I don’t think-!” You start but Dave has already crowded past you, you suddenly realise he’s only got sweatpants on, his body heat rolls off onto you as you take in the painfully obvious erection straining against his pants.

“Well, well, this is what you’ve been up to.”

Dave purrs, picking up the mask you were just wearing, turning it around in his deft fingertips as he looks at the livestream. He’s just out of camera-shot as he grins at you wickedly.

“Dave please, don’t tell mom.”

“About which bit?”

You give Dave a confused look, breathing becoming laboured as panic sets in.

“What do you mean?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper at this point, and you feel compelled to shut the door behind you.

“What don’t you want me to tell her?” He asks, one long stride and he’s got you backed against the door, his free hand circles your neck, gently, a promise more than a threat, “That you’re whoring yourself out to dirty old men online?”

“Dave please, I can-!”

“Or that you’ve been waiting for me to stuff you full of my fat cock until I spill my load inside you?”

Your brain short circuits as you realise it is him, there’s no doubt now, he’s been watching you for months.

Did he know it was me?

“Dave please, it was all for show, I promise.”

Dave clicks his tongue in disappointment, but his hand tightens around your throat as he uses his thumb to nudge your jaw to the side. He leans in, pressing his rock hard, aching dick against your bare stomach as he rubs his cheek against yours.

“You sure honey? Because I’d be mighty disappointed if that was the truth.”

You moan, the sound escaping you before you can even think to stop it, you roll your hips up against him and wrap your arms around his neck before turning to face him. Your noses press against one another as you look up through your lashes into his hooded, lust-drunk eyes.

“You mean it Daddy?” You breathe as you brush your lips against his, your whole body vibrating with arousal as his breath fans against your skin, foreheads pressed together as you try your hardest to hold back.

“‘Course sweetheart, how could I not? You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“But what about-?” You begin to protest, and whatever you were about to say is lost as Dave’s lips crash into yours.

His free hand drops the mask before pinning your hip to the door. His broad hand sears against your skin as he grinds down into you. You moan into his mouth, giving him access before he even asks, letting him lick into your mouth with a hunger you’ve never known from a partner.

He dominates you, claims your mouth in a ravenous need that has you whimpering as you spread your legs for him, hitching an ankle around his leg, pulling him in closer as you run your fingers through his hair. You tug firmly and the growl he makes almost has you coming right there and then.

“Dave the stream.” You pant as you both come up for air, but a darkness falls over his vision. You already know what he’s going to ask before he says a word.

“You got another mask I can borrow?”

Your stomach flutters as you realise what he’s suggesting. You’re about to fuck Dave for the first time, on live stream for fucks sake. Your viewers are going to fucking love it.

“Stay here.” You breathe against his lips, taking control for a second and your heart flutters as Dave’s eyebrow raises in amusement. You’re filing that reaction away for later.

You bend over, making sure to brush up against Dave’s rock-hard bulge as you do, and pick up your mask, re-seating it before heading back into view of the livestream. The sound of comments firing in the background makes your stomach flutter in anticipation. You rifle under your bed for your box of props.

“Here you go Daddy.” You purr as you prance back to the doorway.

“Fuck.” Dave rasps as he twitches in his pants. He puts the black and gold mask on, smirking down at you as you bite your lip at him.

“Follow my lead, yeah?”

“Sure baby, it’s your show.”

You lean up to press a soft kiss to his lips. It’s an oddly intimate act and you almost regret doing it until you see the lazy smile spread across Dave’s lips.

You turn to go back to your stream and before you’re even back in shot you feel the sharp slap of Dave’s palm on your ass and you yelp. You look back with a playful look as you roll your eyes at him.

“Hey there Daddies,” You say with a soft, sing-song lilt to your voice, “Sorry about that, I almost got busted! Daddy came home and I had to pretend to be a good little girl.”

You chuckle giddily as you watch the comments flood back in, all positive, begging for you to continue.

The violent banging on your door startles you and you yelp.

“Luna what the fuck are you doing in there?” Dave roars, loud enough for your viewers to hear and the comments go absolutely wild.

“I’m not dressed please don’t come in!” You feign as much panic as you can, pretending to fumble with the computer controls.

“You got a boy in there? I’ll fucking kill him.” Dave roars as he rips the door open. You stand up and clutch your discarded robe against your chest.

“Please, it’s not what it looks like, please don’t tell mom.” You mimic your terrified tone from earlier but both of you now know it’s just an act.

“What the fuck?”

Dave steps into view and you all but whimper as you see the murderous look in his dark eyes. He looks from you to the computer, and back again. His chest heaves and you take a step back, you’re not sure if you planned to or not but the intensity is more than you expected.

“Please, let’s just talk about this.”

You plead as he crosses the short distance to grab you by the throat, harder than before and you audibly gasp as he takes off his mask. You watch as his eyes scan the stream, making sure he’s only visible from the neck down.

“You wear these fancy masks to hide your whoring from the world huh? Give me one, I’m not about to get caught fucking you on some sick little porno site.”

You make a show of turning to the camera, lace-covered breasts front and centre as you pretend to grab something from the shelf behind. You turn and tilt up onto your tiptoes to replace the mask on Dave’s face. You pout a little. As much as you know it’s necessary, you want to see him, all of him, when he fucks you.

“Good girl, now,” He growls, shoving past you to sit on the end of the bed, “Convince me not to tell your mom, show me if you’re good enough to keep a secret for.”

He’s a fucking natural, lined up perfectly in shot so that you can sink onto your knees in front of him. The notifications are going wild, the cheesy sound bite of a cash register opening and closing as your fans tip you firing faster than you’ve ever known.

“What if it’s too big, Daddy?”

“You’ll make it fit Princess, I know you will.”

You nod slowly and peel down the waistband of his pants and gasp at the sight of him. He’s uncut, thick, and a nice size. A Goldilocks dick, not too big, not too small. You salivate at the sight of him and look up to see his hungry gaze locked on you.

You pull his foreskin back gently and mewl at the sight of his pre-come smeared over his angry red tip. You lap gently at the mess and hum at the salty, bitter taste of his come.

“Good fucking girl, knew you’d be good at sucking dick, bet you’ve had hundreds of cocks stuffed down your throat.”

“Nuh-uh,” You say loud enough for the microphone to pick up, “Only you Daddy.” His dick twitches wildly at that and he looks down at you in shock, you see the real fear of this being your first-time flash behind his eyes and you subtly shake your head. He narrows his eyes and nods imperceptibly in understanding.

“Fuck, been saving yourself for me Princess?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

You punctuate it with a short, wet suck of his exposed tip and he groans, fisting one hand in your hair, shifting slightly on the bed angling it so that the stream can just see your profile as you suckle on his tip.

“See fellas, this is what you get when you’re nice to her.”

You whimper and feel the slick dripping down your legs as you sink lower onto Dave’s gorgeous cock. It’s so smooth, his foreskin making it a dream to sink down onto. He hisses as your lips and nose press into his pubic hair.

“Good fucking girl.” His voice is ragged, and you look up to see his plush lips parted, veins in his neck bulging. You bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks out as you flick your tongue against his head every time you come back up his shaft.

“She’s got such a fucking pretty little mouth, don’t you think?”

He shifts on the bed again until he’s standing, you have to sit up on your knees to keep him in your mouth. His face is out of shot, and he looks down at you with care in his eyes. He mouths down a “You ok?” At you and you smile, nodding as you take him deep.

“Shit, look at you.”

Dave’s Hand in your hair becomes possessive as he rolls his hips slowly into your mouth, you gag a little and tears spill from your eyes as you try your hardest to keep it together.

“Doing so well for me baby, making Daddy feel so good.”

You whine at the praise and his willingness to call himself daddy. He lets you take his cock for a little longer before he rips you off with a snarl.

“Need to fill that little pussy up, c’mere.”

Dave pulls you up into his arms and kisses you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth, tasting himself on you with a moan as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sits down on the edge of the bed once more before turning you in his lap, his cock sliding between your clothed folds as he holds your back flush against his chest. One hand is wrapped around your throat as his other trails down your body to your soaked panties.

“You been saving this for me too?”

He slowly peels them away to the side, exposing your wet heat. You arch your back as he glides two thick fingers through your folds. It feels so much better than you could have imagined. His calloused pads rake through you, teasing at your hole before gliding back up to your clit, rubbing slow, intense circles around your swollen bud.

“Yes Daddy, want you to be the only one, want you inside me. Daddy, please?”

You squirm in his lap, rocking your hips so you coat his length with your slick as it glides through your lips.

“Slow down baby, not going to last if you keep doing that.” He whispers in your ear, chuckling slightly as he nips a warning into your neck. You hum and slow down, but you don’t stop.

“Please Daddy, can’t wait any more, need you.”

It’s only half an act. You’ve dreamt of this for months, desperate to have him. You watch how your mother spurns him, how she hides her phone when he’s around. You know she’s not being good to him.

“As you asked so nicely.”

You’re caught off guard as he notches himself at your core and with one hand on your hip, the other tight around your throat, he drags you down onto his cock.

You cry out in ecstasy as you feel every inch of him pressing into you, every ridge and vein as he forces you down to the base. You’re grateful that you worked yourself open with three fingers earlier or this would have been way too much.

“Look at that baby,” Dave hums against your skin, looking into the camera over your shoulder as he tilts your head down to look at the screen, “Look at how pretty you look all stretched out on my cock.”

You pant heavily as you get used to his girth, it’s blinding. You’ve never had someone fill you just right like this, like you were made to be split open by him. You whine impatiently and a hard slap comes down on your right ass cheek. Dave’s cock twitches up into you as you yelp and mewl at the painful pleasure rocking through you.

“Naughty girl, so eager to get fucked, what would your mother say if she could see you like this?”

Dave taunts you as he moves both hands to your hips, pulling you further back into the bed so he can brace his feet on the sheets, holding you up for the camera to see you suspended above him. You know it’s for show, you know it’s all a fantasy, but in that moment, you lose yourself to Dave.

“Touch yourself baby, need you to milk this fat dick until you’re full of me, y’hear me?”

“Yes Daddy, want you to fill me up, fuck your cum deep into me.”

“Good fucking girl.”

Dave snaps up into you without warning, his pace brutal as he fucks you just right, kissing your g-spot with the head of his cock as you swirl your fingers aggressively around your clit. You feel your release building like a crescendo. The symphony of Dave’s hungry, aggressive grunting as he fucks you harder and harder with every thrust; and the staccato of desperate moans that escape your lips are all you can think about.

You’re about to come as Dave pushes you forward onto your hands and knees, he fuses his hips to yours, not letting you go for a single second as he pushes your head down onto the edge of the bed.

“Fuck yeah, let them see you, how fucking drunk you are on my cock, dirty little slut.”

“Fuck yes, Daddy, fuck me deep, fill me up with your come Daddy.”

The words fall from your lips without prompt or encouragement, you’re coming so hard you can’t keep your eyes open any more, your legs tremble and your arms feel like lead as pleasure rocks through you like no other orgasm you can remember.

Dave keeps fucking you as you whimper and shake from exertion and overstimulation. You let him use you, let him fuck down into you with such force you swear you’ll feel him for weeks. But you don’t care, pleasure ebbs through you like a heartbeat, stopping only as Dave’s hips snap into you one last time as you hear him groan in your ear. He falls against your back, holding you close to him as he releases inside you, pinning you to him as he pants and whines in your ear.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He rubs his nose along the column of your neck and suckles your earlobe into his mouth.

“All for you Daddy.”

You eventually ease off of his lap and turn the stream off without your usual sign-off. You don’t give a single shit about your viewers right now, all you can think about is Dave and the blissed-out look on his face as he watches you, propped up against your headboard.

“So, that was something else.”

You say with a giggle and the smile that spreads across his face has butterflies exploding in your chest. The love, the affection there is something more than just some kinky fantasy.

“Yeah,” He wheezes as he rocks up onto his feet and scoops you up into his arms, bridal style, “Let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”

His whole demeanour has changed, gone is the dominant Dave who just fucked you within an inch of your life, right here the Dave you know so well. Caring, soft, yet still so fucking hot.

“Ok.” You mumble into his chest as you flop against him.

~*~

Hours later and your mom still isn’t home, Dave still hasn’t left your bed.

“We don’t have to do this again y’know.”

You eventually say what you’ve been trying to bring up for hours. You’re snuggled into Dave’s chest, under your freshly made sheets, watching some shit on Netflix. He sits up immediately, pulling you up to sit next to him.

“Is that what you want?”

There’s a vulnerability on Dave’s face that makes your heart clench, a myriad of emotions floods through your system. You dip your head, avoiding those soft brown eyes that you adore.

“No, I just, you’re married to my mom.”

Dave’s calloused hand cups your cheek tilting your head up to look at him.

“And where do you think she is tonight? Where she’s been the last six weekends in a row?”

Dave’s eyes are deadly serious, there’s an edge to his tone that arouses you, it’s possessive, frustrated, but most of all passionate.

“Do you want to keep, uh, seeing each other?” You ask as your eyes drop to his lips and you can’t imagine not kissing them again, not feeling them on your skin.

“Yes.”

Dave’s answer shocks you, not for his admission but for how firmly he says it, how much passion and surety he can pack into a single syllable.

“Good.”

You respond in turn before pulling Dave down on top of you, crashing his lips into yours as his hips slot between yours like you were made for one another.

What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.

Tags: @yvonneeeee @notsosecretspy @jadealicious06 @famouslyanonymous @harriedandharassed @casa-boiardi @pimosworld @brittmb115 @bitchwitch1981 @cool-iguana @beefrobeefcal @lucyeyelesbarrow @anoverwhelmingdin @beskarandblasters @wannab-urs @pastelnap @patti7dc @gasolinerainbowpuddles @jksprincess10

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anakinskywalkerog · 8 months

Text

My Very Soul (Chapter 34)

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

Link to Chapter 33

Warnings: a bit of sad reader, a bit of angsty Anakin, FLUFF, clandestine love affair bullshit!! and a very subtle implied *you know* at the very end (rated teen as always)

Summary: Your training with Obi-Wan constitutes a new beginning; you and Anakin reckon with the fight you had after Felucia (WE HAVE NEW CLONE WARS ANAKIN GIFS TO USE I'm screaming)

Word Count: 4.2k

You felt the crisp, cool, morning air of the Temple hit your face like a bucket of water, as if the wind wanted to keep you awake and upright. You walked slowly through the hallways, focusing on your breathing, on the cold air, the hard marble beneath your feet, on anything but the whispered conversations you heard around you. Not heard—felt. You knew that the few Jedi you passed in the halls were not responsible for the accumulation of the voices in your head. This was just how it was for you, now—you couldn't help but pick up too much, like you were receiver that was too sensitive, picking up too many transmission signals.

It was easier to ignore the feel of all of the whispering voices than it was to ignore the pain you felt in your entire being. Walking through the Temple halls, even, felt like walking through thick, piling sand, your limbs aching. But you knew you mustn't focus on the pain—the pain of your grief, still so heavy, or the pain that twinged in your mind as you thought about the fight you'd had with Anakin last night—you mustn't let it consume you. You had work to do.

You felt horribly guilty for how you had shouted at Anakin the previous evening, how you had pushed him away, how you had told him to get out. Not that he had listened; he'd held you all through the night, and even after you'd calmed enough to dose, you still felt the guilt of it in your veins. So, when you'd awoken to the coruscanti light streaming in through the window slats, and you'd seen Anakin fast asleep, his peaceful, beautiful face finally at ease, you knew it wouldn't be right to wake him. You'd taken one last look at his face, admiring the shape of his jaw, his eyebrows slightly downturned in sleep, his eyelashes that shown blonde in the morning light, before you'd slipped out from under the covers and donned your robe, holstering your lightsaber before sneaking out of your apartment.

There would be time to apologize later. Now, you knew, you needed to clear your mind. You kept walking. As you passed the archives, something that you had been thinking about since you had returned from Felucia flashed through your head. Later, you told yourself, turning to look ahead and stilling yourself for what was to come.

You stopped outside the meditation chambers. You knew you didn't need to knock—knew that he would sense your presence. And, as you heaved another sigh, working to keep your body upright, fighting the weight of that ever-present grief, you heard his quiet voice.

"Enter," Obi-Wan said, and you pushed the button on the panel on the wall, walking slowly into the darkened meditation room. Everything inside was a shade of blue and grey, even the pale light slipping in through the mostly-covered windows. The room contained only a few soft ottomans, and gave the impression of stillness, of calm. Even so, you had to hold your breath as you bowed to Obi-Wan and took your place on the ottoman across from his. Everything in this Temple reminded you of Yuma. Everything reminded you that she was no longer here.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me," Obi-Wan said gently, his eyes grazing over your form, your face. You realized you still had yet to visit the refresher, your hair still looking like a nest something might crawl out of. You couldn't find it in yourself to care.

"Thank you for...offering, to help me train," you responded, bowing your head again slightly, forcing yourself to look him in the eye.

"I will do what I can," Obi-Wan replied, folding his legs on the ottoman, assuming a straight-backed meditative position. You followed suit, and found that your body felt comforted in this position, like muscle memory, as if its familiarity made the weight a little bit easier to bear.

"It is my understanding that you were unsuccessful," Obi-Wan began, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "when trying to extricate yourself from Yuma's thoughts and memories in the Force."

"Yes," you said, swallowing hard, trying to ignore the lump that had formed in your throat as you thought back to those training sessions, some that had taken place in this very same room. It felt like a different lifetime, compared to the one you were living now.

"And you were unable, as well, to stop reading other's presences, when you tried." You felt Obi-Wan's thoughts drift lazily toward Anakin, and you checked to make sure your own Force presence was folded neatly and minutely into yourself. The last thing you needed from this training was to reveal too much.

"Yes," you said again, watching Obi-Wan with interest.

"What did it feel like? When you tried to disentangle yourself from Yuma's presence?" Obi-Wan sounded genuinely curious. You swallowed again, pushing your head and back up straight, blinking away the pang that her name sent through you.

"It felt like..." you thought back to those training sessions. "It felt like there were thousands of...tendrils, connecting my presence to Yuma's presence, in the Force. And all of the tendrils were tangled together, knotted and looped...it took so much effort to disconnect one, or two, but before I could make progress, her thoughts or emotions would shift, and new tendrils would take their place. I could never get too many disconnected at once."

"An interesting metaphor..." Obi-Wan mused, his hand gracing over his mustache, his eyes unfocused as he considered your words. "My thought is that we are going about this the wrong way." He looked up, making eye contact with you once again.

"I'm listening."

"I've observed your Force empathy myself..." Obi-Wan said, looking at you as if he could see through you, right to your very soul. "I've found that your own emotions form a strong connection to those you read in others."

You thought back to all the times you'd mistaken others emotions for your own...with Anakin, the first day you'd even met him, or with Henry, when you'd seen his memories and assumed they were yours. You nodded.

"Sometimes...sometimes they even become indiscernible," you confirmed. "My own emotions, and those I read in others." Obi-Wan nodded as well.

"Logically it follows that extricating your emotions from the emotions of others would be very difficult," Obi-Wan said. You thought back over your relationship with Anakin—how at first you'd been afraid your feelings of affection, longing, of love weren't yours at all. Over time, though, your own feelings had grown such that their strength couldn't be denied. They had asserted themselves over you, over both of your lives. You shuddered at the thought, at how difficult it felt, even now, to not be by his side, not be in his arms. How those emotions threatened to swallow you whole.

"If the two are inseparable," Obi-Wan continued, snapping you back to attention, "instead of trying to separate your emotions from the emotions of another, I'm wondering if we can cut both off at the source."

"You mean..." you pondered, thinking this through, "not feel anything?"

"Not exactly, no," Obi-Wan explained, his voice thoughtful. "You are gifted at meditation, yes?" You nodded, wanting to see where he was going with this. "Instead of trying not to feel anything, you might think to separate yourself from your own emotions, when in particularly dangerous or high-stakes situations."

"You're speaking of impermanence," you murmured softly. Obi-Wan nodded. It was an old Jedi principle, one you had learned from a very young age—that the root of all suffering was impermanence. That to fear the impermanence led to anger, and then to hate, and then to suffering. A Jedi must accept the impermanence of all things. Especially emotion, you thought to yourself.

"I think you might have more success if you were to try to separate yourself—your being, your very soul—from those momentary feelings. The emotions you feel, and those that others feel, entangled and entwined as they are." Obi-Wan watched you, waiting for your response.

"So, it isn't about trying not to feel..." you said, thinking deeply. "But rather, allowing my sense of self to detach from my feelings, when the occasion calls for it."

"Yes." Obi-Wan affirmed. "It isn't about escaping your own emotions...but rather, forming a stronghold against them, and the ones you might read in others." Obi-Wan paused for a moment while you thought this over. "The Sith are controlled by their emotion." You looked up, and for a moment, instead of Obi-Wan's blue iris, you saw the purple one that had haunted you in your dreams. "They draw strength from it, yes," Obi-Wan continued, "but they also let it consume them. It seems to me that when you intuit Sith presences, that emotion consumes you too."

You thought back to when Count Dooku had taken you prisoner in your own mind. It had felt like being led down a dark path, one that narrowed, narrowed, until...until you'd been trapped. You didn't want to be rendered useless ever again. You didn’t want anyone else to come into harm's way because you were unable to keep your own mind for yourself. As your resolve hardened, you sat up straight, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze.

"What must I do?"

It was difficult work. Obi-Wan led you through a series of visualization exercises, and then meditations. You waded so deeply into the weeds of your own mind that you felt, for a moment, afraid you might get lost in it once again. But Obi-Wan was there, his voice guiding you, allowing you to continue mapping those deepest parts of yourself. You soon found that you were not one whole, but a composite mix of things; you were not solely a Jedi, nor were you solely the self that Yuma had taught, nor the woman that Anakin loved. You were many different things, different forms, ever-shifting and changing along with your consciousness.

By the end of the lesson, you'd achieved a moment—only a moment—in which you had looked at Obi-Wan and felt nothing emanating from his presence at all. It snapped away as you lost your focus, and you'd been certain that it was a mistake, but Obi-Wan had assured you that he did not have the gift of hiding his Force presence, and that if you had not been intuiting it, you had made great progress. You could admit that the flow of conversation in the back of your mind, the ever-present murmuring, had quieted to only a trickle. This was a great improvement from the storm of voices you had grown accustomed to. After only one day's effort, you and Obi-Wan had achieved more than you and your Master had been able to accomplish in six months.

"Thank you," you said, breathless, sweat dripping down your brow from effort. For the first time since Felucia, you felt a bit looser, like you didn't have to try quite as hard to stand up straight.

"I appreciate your gratitude," Obi-Wan said kindly, "but you know it isn't necessary. I want to do anything I can to help you." You nodded your thanks to him, all the same. Obi-Wan's face became thoughtful. "I've never encountered anything like you, in the Force," he added, considering you.

You paused, taken aback. Obi-Wan, one of the most talented Jedi in the Order, who'd had a Padawan that—

"But...Anakin..." you mumbled, confused.

"I've never encountered anything like either of you," Obi-Wan said, chuckling and rubbing his beard. "You astound even the wisest of us." You laughed too, and felt yourself surprised to hear the sound.

"I know it doesn’t help," Obi-Wan remarked softly, "But I…have been in your position before. I watched my own Master be killed." You went quiet, your eyes fully on Obi-Wan, his head bowed, his hair hanging over his face, his eyes glazed with the memory. "And I was there, and I could do nothing to stop it. The mark that it leaves…it gets easier, with time. Easier to bear the weight of it."

You had never heard Obi-Wan speak of his Master before. Qui-Gon’s passing had happened when you were so young—it had scared you, at the time, with all the rumors surrounding how it had happened, but you hadn't thought, at that young age, of the effect it must have had on his Padawan.

"It does help," you told him quietly. The two of you sat for a moment in comfortable silence.

"How do you feel?" Obi-Wan asked, looking you over with careful concern. You considered his question honestly, allowing your body to express itself to you.

"I feel...hungry," you breathed, surprised at yourself. Obi-Wan smiled widely, and you grinned back at him, feeling, for the first time in a while, like there was solid ground beneath you.

Anakin stalked through the halls of the Temple. Jedi who were in his path moved swiftly to get out of his way; a maintenance droid squealed as the toe of Anakin's boot just missed it, but he wasn't paying attention. He looked down for a moment, but could barely see the tendons in his hands as he clenched his fingers into fists. He barely noticed the way the other Jedi were looking at him, his furrowed brow, his tall stature. He had other things on his mind.

He had awoken in your bed to find it empty. Fear and panic had gripped his heart as he tore apart the sheets, looking through the apartment, calling for you. It was only then that he remembered your training with Obi-Wan, your promise from the previous day. It had calmed him, but only a little. He had dressed quickly, sneaking out of your Jedi apartment with ease. He knew he had to find you.

Anakin's heart raced thinking about how you had been these previous days, how immobile you seemed, how you had been refusing to eat or drink, how you hadn't been able to get out of that bed. It terrified him whenever your eyes started to glaze over; when you didn't seem to fully see the room you were in. He was worried you might slip back into that Force haze at any moment, that space where you had seemed all but lost to him forever. He wouldn't let that happen.

The meditation room was empty; Anakin paused in the doorway only for a moment, before wheeling around and continuing down to the lower level. Where could you have gone? Surely not back to the medical chambers, unless—unless something had happened to you, during your training? Unless your mind had gone back into that cloudedness—

Surely there was no way the council had already sent you into command, was there? Anakin himself had been granted a small reprieve after the events of Felucia. He knew the council had appointed you general of the 415th batallion, Yuma's former position. He knew you had accepted command—what else could you have done? But could the council have sent you back into combat so quickly? Panic gripped Anakin's heart as he considered what it might mean if you returned to battle in your current state. He paused just outside the Temple gardens, half-ready to turn around and head back up toward the medical bay, to the council chambers, to demand to know where you were, when—

He felt a tug within him in the Force. It was a familiar presence; it felt like comfort, and reddish brown hair, the sleeve of a tunic...

Anakin found him on the other side of the gardens, in the corner, sitting with a cup of tea.

"Where is she?" Anakin demanded, looking around quickly. Obi-Wan seemed relaxed, so, at the very least, nothing horrible could have happened to you.

"Good morning, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his voice sounding tired.

"Where is she?" Anakin asked again, bouncing back onto the heels of his boots for emphasis, feeling unable to keep still, even in the presence of his seated Master.

"I believe she went to get something to eat," Obi-Wan replied, looking warily up at Anakin.

"To eat?" Anakin asked, pausing for a moment, debating turning around on the spot and heading for the mess hall. But if you had gone to get something to eat, then—

"Training went well, then?" Anakin asked, lowering his voice, perching on the bench next to the one on which Obi-Wan lounged, in the corner of the Temple garden.

"I would say so," Obi-Wan said in his infuriatingly calm voice. Obi-Wan took another sip of his tea, looking out at the garden as if deep in thought.

"What does that mean?" Anakin asked, feeling impatient.

"I'm not sure," Obi-Wan replied, his voice still infuriatingly calm.

"Don't be cryptic," Anakin accused, leaning back on his bench and crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. "Do you think you'll be able to help her, or not?"

"I am optimistic," Obi-Wan said, finally turning in Anakin's direction to look him over. "You should be patient with her, Anakin. This was a serious loss for her."

"I know that," Anakin responded, his heart pounding, his anger jumping up a pitch. "I am being patient." Did Obi-Wan think he, Anakin, didn't know what you needed? How could Obi-Wan not see that your well-being was the most important thing in the world? Of course, Obi-Wan couldn't know about your relationship with Anakin...but didn't Obi-Wan realize the importance of keeping you alive, regardless? Didn't Obi-Wan realize how much danger you were in? Anakin took in the posture of his former Master, how calm Obi-Wan seemed, how superior, and felt his frustration grow. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath.

"She's grieving—" Obi-Wan tried, but Anakin cut him off.

"Felucia, Obi-Wan?!" Anakin rasped, his volume increasing. "That wasn't grief!" Anakin recalled again the way you had looked with your body limp, your eyes clouded over, milky white, unable to hear him, trapped in your own suffering.

"I'm looking into it," Obi-Wan responded quietly, lowering his eyes.

"Well, look harder," Anakin said, his breath coming out in a huff. He leaned forward again, looking to Obi-Wan beseechingly. "If she takes command of the 415th, and she doesn't have this under control—"

"If you don't trust her by now," Obi-Wan began, but Anakin cut him off again.

"Of course I trust her! But you know as well as I do—as well as Yuma did—that her gifts are a liability!"

"She is not a liability to the Order—"

"I don't give a kriffing gundark about the Order! I'm talking about her—her life. You need to help her, Obi-Wan. We need to...to find a way to make sure..." Anakin's breathing was heavy. He found himself looking down at his hands, his shoulders moving up and down quickly with his breath. He blinked, his fear overwhelming him.

"We will help her," Obi-Wan said, putting a bracing hand on Anakin's shoulder. "And she will help herself."

You sat, staring into the archive memory, sifting through the holobooks to find what you were looking for. The Temple library was quiet, the atmosphere one of focused attention. Something about it calmed you, but you also found it a bit unnerving, that every bit of galactic knowledge that existed could be found in these very archives.

Your stomach was full for the first time since Felucia; you were sitting upright, able to fight the weight of the grief that had been threatening for days to consume you. You felt exhausted, and sad, but it was a start. And after attending to your needs in the mess hall, you'd come straight here, to the Temple library. Even in the darkest parts of your grief—even when you'd been totally trapped under that weight—you'd known what you needed to do next. You'd been forming your plan. All you had needed was the strength to begin. And, thanks to your training with Obi-Wan, today you'd found it.

You used the controls to pull forth one of the holobooks, and as the holoimages came up, you sat down to focus. You felt yourself getting lost in the text, trying to remember everything. Your focus was so intense that you didn't feel his presence coming until he was right behind you.

"Why are you researching Galactic Sign Language?" Anakin asked, his hand gently stroking your shoulder. Such a small, subtle movement was likely to go unnoticed by those other Jedi in the archives, absorbed as they were in their own research. The sound of his voice made your body electrify—all of the longing, the guilt, and the desire passed through you at once. You shivered.

"It's a long story," you told him, turning around in your chair to face him full on.

"I'm sorry," you breathed, right as Anakin had said the same thing, leaning in toward you, his eyes wide. You felt the corners of your mouth turn up at the sides, and Anakin's face fell open, his surprise taking away his supplication.

"Me first," you said, getting up out of the chair and shutting off the hologram. As you faced Anakin, you felt through his emotions in the Force, sifting through as if the man in front of you were a different type of archive memory—one that was tangled, passionate, complex, brilliant, and beautiful. His emotions mirrored your own; you felt his guilt, his longing, his love for you. The first and most prominent emotion surrounding his presence was worry, and this made you feel even more guilty.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," you told him quietly, aware of the others milling about the great library. "I'm sorry I took my anger out on you. It's only anger at myself—" Anakin looked as if he were going to cut you off, but you silenced him, holding up your hand. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with you at all. Not when you are so kind," you voice grew quieter, "and so loyal, and so patient with me." Your faces were closer together now; if anyone were to look over, they might wonder why you were having such an intense, whispered conversation. "I'm sorry I fell apart," you continued, feeling the hint of the tears pinpricking the corners of your eyes. You pushed through, closing your eyes to keep the tears from falling. "You shouldn't have to worry about me. I won't let it happen again. I promise I'll be here for you. With you."

"I'm the one who should be sorry," Anakin said eagerly, acting as if he were about to take your hands in his, and then looking around, thinking better of it. Instead, he surreptitiously reached up and brushed under your eye, stroking away the ghost of the tear that didn't fall. "I shouldn't have said anything about...I shouldn't have assumed I know anything about what it felt like for you, on Felucia."

You nodded, but really, he didn't need to apologize. You'd put your own words into his mouth; it hadn't been a fight between you and Anakin, but one between the warring sides of yourself. And you knew now that you needed to face those warring sides head on, and deal with them before they could manage to hurt anyone else.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," you said, pulling half of your mouth up in a small smile. Anakin's eyes were stars, on fire, the blue looking like it was burning, like it would melt out into the air.

"Obi-Wan said training went well," Anakin whispered, hopefully, looking around you for a moment before grazing your hand with his.

"I think it did," you whispered back, looking up into his eyes. You wanted nothing more than to take his face in your hands, but you held back. All this secrecy, you thought, might just drive you mad.

"And you'll tell me about your research..." he continued, glancing back at the archive computer behind you.

"Another time," you assured him, looking around again, making sure no one was close enough to overhear while you leaned in closer toward him. "You know that I love you," you breathed. Anakin's face broke into a joyful smile, his body leaning in closer to yours.

"You know," he said quietly so only you could hear him, "that I love you more than all of the books in this archive." He glanced back at the other Jedi, huddled in their research. "And more than all of the stars in the galaxy, and more than all of the galaxies in the universe." Anakin met your gaze, his sorrow gone, his eyes alight and mischievous. You felt the intention in his Force presence, and it made your insides turn over, your breath becoming short.

"And I love you more than whatever lies beyond that," you whispered, smiling up at him, your heart full. Anakin surreptitiously stroked his hand over the top of yours once again.

"Do you have much more research to do?" Anakin asked, his face forming a familiar, cocky smile.

"It can wait," you murmured, smiling and cocking your head as you strode past him toward the doors, gesturing for him to follow.

************************************************************************

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the-midnight-blooms · 26 days

Text

Ruptured Constellations

pairing: kang yeosang x reader

AU: soulmate au

word count: 3.3k

ATEEZ as angst tropes series:

masterlist

Trope: Soulmates That Never Find Each Other

You were there.

I felt you. Your presence reminiscent in my dreams, we swayed from side to side in a grand ball. The thrill of the game of love fuelling us both as we spun around in each other’s arms. I could’ve sworn I felt our souls entwine. I see your eyes like dynamite stare into mine. They haunt me every night as my eyes shut, the magnetising pull of our souls. Something snaps our string of fate, the culprit well blended into the shadows of my distant thoughts I can never stand and point my finger at them. Who’s to blame? Who’s to blame from separating me from you?

In the dead of the night, two figures loomed in the dark sprinting through the narrow hallways of a large manor perched upon a hill. A candelabra settled in one hand and his lovers hand encased within the other. The air still as he guides her down, finally they reach a deserted room. Passionately their lips meet in the dim light, fingers running through their hair. So lost in each other’s taste, the clock twirls, time ticking as they savour each other and the few moments they have left. In the finality effortlessly he lifts her up twirling her around tickling her neck with his lips, the intoxicating melody of her laughter enamouring him.

“My darling, the owner of my heart. Will you give it back to me?” He asks, gazing into her eyes so lovingly as if they held unmapped constellations.

“Give you back, what?” She teases, brushing their noses against each other. An old act of maternal love projected onto him, the urge to protect him, keep him. Inaugurate him as her own.

“My heart, or at least some of it. Just enough to keep me alive without your presence.”

“I don’t think so.” She proclaimed, “I think I’ll keep it with me, so as long as I have it you won’t forget me.”

In an instant, the blaring sound of her alarm rudely awakened her from her dream eyelids tearing open to switch the obnoxious noise off. Smacking the brutal thing shut, a long groan escaped from her lips flopping her head back onto the pillow- sealing her eyes closed hoping that he would miraculously crawl back to her. He never did in the mornings where the sun exchanged its place in the sky with the moon.

Mornings were always weary and awful in her desolate flat, the chilling air always coming to add to the loneliness she felt waking up every morning to no one. After being groomed into her work attire, she became subject to the repetitiveness of the ‘nine-to-five’ schedule she was contained within (except she started at eight o’clock and finished at four). The office was particularly quiet at this time, speeding over to her desk she slumped down on her chair, clicking the button underneath the panel. She made sure to relish the first hour of quietness before her colleagues rolled in, politely greeting her before seating themselves at their own desks. Clatter of keyboards infiltrated the air surrounding them, continuing for hours on end the abrasive sound occasionally dipping during lunch break before piping back up. At the end of a tiresome day, her eyes much sore from the incessant glare of the computer screen she sauntered out of the building.

The coldness of her apartment welcomed her again; the isolation called her in. The silence was enough to comfort her soul but there was no presence of somebody, anybody, to greet her with open arms. A buzzing sound vibrated in her pocket, slipping her phone out to read a message from her friend.

Hellooo are you free tomorrow?? I have news

Scoffing a little at her friends straightforwardness, immediately she typed back a response.

It’ll have to be after work, tomorrow at half 5?

Perfect, see you then

As planned as soon as the clock struck four, she made a beeline across to the other side of the city, all the way to her friend’s home. Jogging up the steps, she knocked a few times clutching onto her shoulder bag before her friend swung open the door, an elated smile plastered across her face. Ignoring all the formalities, she strolled in placing her shoes at the entrance before dropping her bag at the foot of the sofa.

“How are you? How was work?” Her friend questioned, settling herself on the seat opposite.

“I’m good, work is- well mundane as usual. How are you? What’s got you so happy?” Though, she felt that she already knew the answer.

"I found him, my soulmate. K for Kyong." Rolling up her sleeve to show the letter engraved into her pale flesh, as if she had not seen the letter several times before. With a wide smile plastered amongst her lips, childish squeals vibrated through the room, the friends encompassing each other.

Finding your soulmate varied from one person to another. Some had their lovers name imprinted on parts of their body, some an imbedded clock on their wrists counting down the minutes until they would meet. Some had words, like the first word they would ever say to you. But when she was born, she had nothing. At least there was no physical manifestation on her body that would declare that she’d ever meet her soulmate. Perhaps she was not worthy of love, she was not desirable to others. She wasn’t beautiful by any means, or at least in her eyes. How could she be beautiful when there was the mere existence of her friends? Take Joo-Won, for example. Her name literally meant love; she was born to be adored. Her whole life she had spent, taking the photos rather than being in them. Hiding from the camera, avoiding bathroom mirrors. Wearing pretty dresses for no one to validate her appearance, yet when her friend wore that same dress a few weeks later the entirety of their university flocked to her side praising her gorgeous looks. By all means she did not feel any sense of jealousy but rather hurt that she was not cherished. That the universe sought her so undeserving of love. It hurt to be unlovable. It hurt to just exist for the sole purpose of existing. Nevertheless she congratulated Joo-Won on her newly founded love, promising to be there whenever and if ever she needed her.

“Oh darling,” Joo-Won reached to take out her friend’s hands in her own, slithers of happiness moulding into sympathy. “If only you found your lover by now. There’s still hope! I have a work friend just like you-,”

“Don’t be silly. Love is a blessing that is only meant for some. It’s not meant for me, and I’m ok with that.”

She was not ok with that.

When she stepped back into the coldness of her apartment, her knees buckled sinking to the floor as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. An irritable pang settled into her heart, she clutched at the fabric of her shirt.

Why not me?

To make matters even worse, when her body brimmed with exhaustion and she trudged towards her bedroom shutting her eyes inviting sleep to overcome her, the man in her dreams did not return to her. Instead she wandered through the abandoned manor alone, exploring hidden rooms. Jumping at every little sound, hoping it was him turning around the corner. She woke up in a foul mood. Just like that the days bled into each other, the weekends speeding by as her working days trudged their way to the end. Her loneliness only ascended, as every other week her phone buzzed with Joo-Won informing her on how so and so had “found their soulmate”.

She wasn’t cut out for love, but how it agonised her to admit that. She entered her dreamscape again that night, except this time instead of gallivanting through the deserted hallways she was perched by the hearth her hands glistening over the cackling embers. A low creak strained into the room, a familiar figure entering a warm smile etched on his face. It was him. Relief rushed through her body, she leapt from her seat the pull to him so strong once he encased her within his arms she could not let go.

“I missed you.” A low chuckle escaped him as she buried her face into his neck.

“I was only gone five minutes.” His slender fingers moved to tuck a stray lock of soft hair behind her ears. Her lips moved to form his name the shape of it present the sound of it, absent. Now that she thought about it, what was his name? Her brain wracked through the many names she’d heard in her life time, trying to find one fitting to his handsome face. Her mind clicked at once.

Yeosang.

It was perfect, a name so divine. So heavenly, so fitting for his gorgeous, gorgeous face. A man born out of beauty.

“Yeosang.” She called out, her voice disembarking out to him like an angel’s warm breath tickling the lobe of his ear, it was enough to send him into a state of delirium.

“Yes, my love?”

“Never leave me again.”

“I won’t, I’ll be here for eternity. Stuck by your side.”

“I swear, I wish Yeosang was real.” A dreamy expression was etched onto her face, while a growing look of concern was reciprocated by her friend. She could not help but share some of the delightful dreams that seemed to be exhilarating her. Whilst Joo-Won noticed her friend’s mood was improving over the subsequent weeks the reason being so, had her worried.

“You shouldn’t get too attached to him. It’s going to make it harder for you to find someone real.” The scarlet red mug rose to her lips; hot beverage scalding her tongue. A low hiss escaped from her lips as her friend sunk deeper into the sofa.

“I know it’s just- sometimes I think he’s a real person. Like he’s meant to be with me. Like the way you have Kyong etched onto your skin- I have carved in my mind.” Closing her eyes, to see the glimpses of his comely features. Oh, how she wished to find him and tried at that. Venturing out into the streets of Pohang, attempting to find the brunette. On many occasions, she felt his ubiquity residing in the air but his face unable to be acknowledged. A sympathetic sigh escaped from Joo-Won’s lips, she leaned back onto the sofa herself. Its nearly not the same thing. Oh, how she did not have the guts to proclaim that. A part of her felt that her friend was slipping away, travelling so far gone into distant land becoming detached from her reality.

“What are you doing my love?” Cool wind stirred through the empty night, her hair swaying with the breeze. Waves overlapped, the rush of water forging a cacophony of sounds, healing the aching sounds of the bustling city that indented their ears. His brown eyes gazed intently on her face, as if he was searching for something. They stopped, fixating at one point.

“You have a birthmark.” she giggled at his bluntness. Slender hands gravitated towards her skin, glazing over the small brown mark on her jawline. He pressed a soft kiss to her birthmark, a contented sigh relieving from her. If only she could feel him, relish him. If only his touch could be so real; if only she could feel the warmth radiating of his skin. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s just a brown splodge. Yours, on the other hand, is very pretty. I wish mine took a heart shape like yours. Look at you, you’re meant for love.”

“And are you not? Are you not made to be mine?” His words so potent, rocked her head- she was hypnotised by the allure of his devotion ultimately swaying her mind from one side to another. Fumes of his love enough to intoxicate her for the rest of life, nothing could detox her of the narcotic.

“Perhaps if I was made for you, I could hold you. Where are you?” Just like that, as the words ran through her mouth his figure began to fade becoming at one with the night, taken away by the stars-blinking conceitedly down at her, as if to mock that he was just a dream and a dream alone. Her wish to have and to hold him eternally, was something that exceeded the bounds of the universe.

Yeosang woke up trembling, cold beads of sweat forming on his upper lip. Where did she go? She was within his embrace a second ago, then as soon as she beckoned for him the switch flicked and he shot awake misery fulfilling him as it did every night before. Leaning his head on the headboard, he let out an uncontented huff. Much like the lover in his dreams, he was too not marked with a soulmate’s notation. Though with the distinct red-heart shaped birthmark near his left eye many had conspired that in his past life his lover kissed him on that spot many times that when he was reborn, he was carrying their love with him. He shook his head, laughing every time his friends assured him he was not unlovable. He begged to differ. Reluctantly, he crawled out of his bed to start the day ahead.

He comes to her in the beguiling silence of the night, like he usually does, but this time his touch holds more sincerity, clinging to her as if it’s real now he hates to think when his eyes flutter open he’ll let her go. A tear slips down his cheeks; when she peers at his porcelain face, her hand immediately draws towards him gently brushing it away to kiss his nose.

“What’s wrong, my love?” She whispers, as though speaking an octave higher would shatter him.

“Every time I close my eyes I see your face and when I awaken I can never find it. Where are you?” He breaths out, foreheads touching. His warm embrace relaxing the tense fibres in her muscles.

“I think about that myself, every day. This dream feels too real to be a dream, as if your being here is supposed to be a sign.” She responded, he nods carefully taking in every word exactly as his own. He searched for her in bookshops, towns, in university and in his workplace. Everywhere he went he could not seek her, as if everything down her to physique was inimitable. Even with that distinct birthmark on her jawline, she seemed extinct. No clone of her true enough the ease the unsettling feeling that arose when each morning he woke up and she wasn’t next to him. She drifts away from him again, panic floods through his veins palms flailing trying to clasp onto her but like the wind, she was gone.

Hovering by the ticket booth in the busy railway station, phone glued to her hand awaiting Joo-Won's phone call. Her best friend had gone back to Pohang to visit her parents and grandmother, requesting that she picked her up when she came back. With nothing better to do, she agreed yet she was beginning to regret agreeing as the station flooded with biting air that sent an tantalising shiver down her knobbly spine. Screech of metal grinding against metal penetrated the atmosphere, doors opening and a crowd of people rudely shoving past each other on the platform. In an instant, she found herself huddled within a crowd people, her body being pushed in all directions as some entered the train but a majority exiting. The station anticipated with a dissonance that she disliked all too well, still anticipating Joo-Won's arrival annoyance and panic surged within her.

Her eyes caught a familiar face, latching onto that red heart-shaped birthmark and those wide eyes of his. His smile all too conversant as he spoke to the taller man behind him. A rush of adrenaline charged her, her legs finding her way towards him, becoming at one with the abominable mob. He was right before her, so close, the closest she'd feel to his skin it would be so stupid of her to let him go.

"Yeosang!" she shouted, he froze in his spot craning his neck to follow the sweet melody. He sought her figure amongst the number of heads, some obscuring his view, others ducking their heads as if to shine a spotlight on her unveiled beauty. Her eyes did not hold the twinkling stars but rather the fire of the burning sun. Her figure not as translucent; borne away by the twilight like the several times he encountered it. Instead it was as if the aurora anchored her to the earth, but goodness was she not the capturer of his heart. For every time he saw her, his soul evaporated from his body knees feeling weak. They made their way to each other through the crowd. Mingi who had almost not noticed his friend meander away from him, stalked behind.

Their hearts drew closer, the entrancing pull of their fervour stronger and stronger with every step they took. I have found you, my darling. I am coming to you.

Suddenly, a hand enclosed around their shoulders, synchronously jerking them backwards.

"Yeosang. Where are you going? We're going to be late, you know Seonghwa doesn't like tardiness."

"I called you five times, I thought you ditched me. Where did you go?" Ignoring their friends, they turned her heads back eyes scanning for each other in the sea of heads. They did not find each other, losing one another as they were yanked away; their pull weakening, the string of fate that tied them both slipping away, disintegrating.

It became apparent to both that the perceived pellucidity, the distance paved between them, the inability to have- to hold each other, to feel the warmth they were entitled to, came at the cost of their sheer existence.

I exist, but not to have you.

The lovers interlocked eyes at the opposite ends of the hallway, dashing down the manor as bare feet slapped against the cold marble, bodies colliding. His strong arms closing her within him to prevent her from falling.

"Where did you go? Why can't I have you?” she cried, weakly tears bursting from their banks, gripping on his white shirt as tight as she could.

“Our stars align, but they do not bind us.” He decreed, his hands moving to gently brush the tears from her face. Their lips meet again, but slow and soft to savour its last taste. “I love you.” They meet again. I love you. Again. I love you. Light blares in through the window, the haunting ring of a bell drawing closer to them. Time is running out.

“In the life after this, come find me. For now, find another love. Do not live a life of solitude, my dear. It’s not what you deserve.”

"Can I not have you now?" she exhaled. He shook his head no. "Yeosang, you promised you would stay by my side forever."

"But it hurts, it hurts that I can only have you when I close my eyes. It hurts that when I try to reach you, the further you seem to be moving away from me."

"You selfish man!" she declared, "Does it not hurt me too? Do you know how much it hurts to live knowing that the one thing that completes me, I cannot have?" His body wracked with sobs, uncontrollably. Sinking to his knees, resting an arm on her waist to steady him as he dug his head into her abdomen. Arduous cries fulfilled the night, the stars indifferent to their pain. Reluctantly, she gently removed his hand, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead before transcending back down the hallway.

He called out for her name, but his voice only echoed in the void. She was no longer there. So far long, at one with the stars her beauty forming an unmapped constellation that they could not pinpoint the days they spent endless nights under the sibylline moon.

•••

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

A/N: ahh, it took me a while to try find a fitting trope for Yeosang. Initially I planned miscommunication but it’s such a bad trope that I thought, I need to do my man Yeosang justice. Feels a bit patchy, what do you guys think? May end up editing soon.

#ateez #ateez angst #kpop #kang yeosang #yeosang x reader #yeosang x you #yeosang #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #soulmates #soulmate au

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