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#inflicting pain onto myself
paperlignes · 9 months
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NANDOR THE RELENTLESS WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS (2019-) SEASON 5, EPISODE 8: THE ROAST
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i-am-church-the-cat · 2 months
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CHURCH I AM WORKING I CANNOT BE CRYING OVER CAGED TRAPPED DANIEL
everyone has time to cry over daniel ricciardo it came free with your following me
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todayisafridaynight · 6 months
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this writing shit hard as hell
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clovermunson · 2 years
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billy’s necklace could be a miraculous medal, and it was probably given to him by his mother for protection before she left because she knew he’d need it.
but it didn’t work. it never did.
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skeleticals · 9 months
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literally can't look at the minecraft font anymore cuz of me getting a headache just from making pixels 4 something
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dreamsofyexiao · 2 years
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I'm still so fucking angry over something that happened three months ago i will never be over it feeling as though i don't matter at all having my words and things that felt important to me snatched away with no regard to what i felt or what it could have meant to me having my words taken and my person dismissed being erased from something i started this is what gets to me this is what makes me heavy with sadness and then seering with a violent anger i still feel it I'm never over it and i promise i will never let myself go through that again i will fight i will get angry and i will get mean i don't care i can't let that happen to me ever again and then carry on the pain it never ever goes away
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sensitivegoblin · 2 years
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Depressed vent in the tags cus I don’t have a therapist and I’m stuck in bed in pain
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The Supreme Empress
Kylo Ren x Reader
Summary: The dark side chose you. They pried you out of the rebel camps and dragged you from the ashes and the corpses of your family. The dark side chose you to strengthen the force, to be the vessel for their plans, to be the bride of the Supreme Leader's pupil, to bear Kylo Ren's seed and ensure the might of their divine wrath.
Word Count: 11k+ 🧍‍♀️💀
Warnings: fem!Reader, slow burn, forced marriage AU, themes of stockholm syndrome/gaslighting/brain washing, mentions/depictions of violence, enemies to lovers?, smut (scratching, marking, ?manipulating?, fingering, vaginal penetration, cock warming), fluff, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: this fucking ai chat man. fuck that shit MINORS DNI honestly. its my fault for making a plot. i just wanted to write smut fml. i hate it here. i couldn't even finish it cos now i cant write the smut dafaq? anyway im sure i got typos so you must forgive me. i have not gone through this yet and i need to brush my teeth and pull myself together bye Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx
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I fell to my knees. I was in tears, in dust, in blood, and in pain. My wrists were bound behind me and my clothes were tattered and torn.
This was it. This was the day I die. I felt it in my bones. This was the reckoning.
And then my deliverer, my executioner, came before me. And then I felt the Force in him echo in the room and ripple through me like a blade through my chest.
It was him. The phantom that haunted me every time I closed my eyes. He was the nightmare in my sleep, and the damning voice in my head in the morning. The dark warrior, death given form, the murmuring voice of the shadows.
The Sith Lord.
Here he is, crossing this bridge from the entrance of this cursed compound.
The place is busy, busy with its plans of destruction. I heave at the grandness of it all. It was terrifying to see it up close, especially since I was evidently at the top, and it was a very long drop down.
I crane my neck up at him, face stained with tears. I was exhausted but I put on my last show. I bared my last look of defiance before he kills me, before he finally completes this cycle of torment he has been inflicting onto me.
I close my eyes and await his judgement.
I feel him come before me, but he instead walks past, and I hear someone choke from behind.
"Did I not instruct that she be left unharmed?" his voice barks through his dark mask.
My heart pounds as I hear straining from behind me. I steal a look from over my shoulder and instantly regret it when I see the two stormtroopers that dragged me here get thrown down the side of the bridge. I shudder. Like I said, it's a long drop down.
I look straight when he returns to me. I feel him undo my shackles with his Force, and then... he clutches my arm to help me stand.
I look up at him. I see my reflection on his helmet. I clench my jaw, "what do you want from me?"
"My empress-"
My stomach rolls.
"-I have finally retrieved you from your sullied camp to bring you to your rightful place next to me. To claim you as my own."
A shiver runs down my spine.
No, this can't be real.
My breathing strains. I grip my hands and I begin to step back.
It electrocutes me, this searing cold voice in my brain. It was a suddenly as if I remembered the dialogue in the horrors of my slumber that I so hardly tried to suppress. It was replaying now, the voice of the malevolent, the voice of the creature ruling my nightmares. "I give you to my pupil. With your Force converged with his, the purest of warriors will be borne. And my power will know no bounds."
"You remember now, bride," my captor iterated, "that voice in your head right now-- that is the Supreme Leader; that is Snoke."
I step back, "bride?" my breath hitches.
I was his b--
My knees almost give in, but again, his hold on my arm keeps me upright.
I feel my eyes begin to water.
Please, please, let this be another horrible, horrible nightmare.
"Is everything prepared?"
"Yes, my lord," two voices call out from behind me.
"Good," he says, and I released, "I will watch as you prepare her. I will not allow her be injured further."
I was--
I was here to be sacrificed to the darkness.
I was here to answer to the calls that have been plaguing me for so long, ever since that day my home planet was invaded, ever since everything I knew was reduced to atoms.
I let out a loud yelp when I am splashed with cold water. I let out a breathy curse and the servant who had done it, who had profusely apologized, is suddenly being choked.
It is only now I am cognizant again. It was now that I was aware I am in the bathroom, stripped naked in a tub, and my captor has his servant in a chokehold from across the room. I gasp and cover my bare chest, looking over my shoulder as he hisses, "you could not have made the water warmer? How would you like to be dunked in a pool of ice water?"
My breath hitches, "let her go!"
His voice buzzes behind his helmet as he curls his hand further with his outstretched arm, "she has one task, one simple task, and if she cannot perform it, then she is no use to me."
I panic as I see the servant's eyes water. I jolt when the other servant grabs my shoulder and begins to wash my skin as though nothing was awry. I turn from the servant back to him, "LET HER GO!"
He does nothing.
"LET. HER. GO!"
He seems to be debating my words.
I panic and quip breathlessly, "let her go!"
I sigh in relief when the servant is dropped.
A shiver runs down my spine when he goes at ease by the door. He clutches his hands before him and announces, "thank your empress for her mercy."
Immediately, before she can even catch her breath, the servant responds, "th-ank you, empress." The woman quickly begins to attend to me again.
I am far beyond perturbed.
I don't know what to do with myself, not when I was being bathed by strangers, not when I naked in the tub, not when he was there, watching me.
Why the fuck did that sicko have to watch like a bird in a fucking cage?
Careful, bride.
I stiffen in my place. The servants working on my body halt their work and ask me if their touch was too rough.
Lest you forget I have also been in your dreams. You ought to honor me even in your thoughts, baby bird.
"... my empress?" one servant calls.
"She is fine," he answers for me, "you may proceed."
And then, I'm being dragged out of the tub and patted down in front of a huge mirror. I don't know what to cover, and I can feel him looking. Never mind my naked form in and of itself, but my cuts and bruises from ripping and screaming at the stormtroopers that pried me into their ship. It was loathsome sight to see.
"Must you watch me?" I ask accusingly yet under my breath.
"Yes," he replies, as if it makes anything better, as if it was actually a question, as if he didn't know what I meant with my words. And then he clarifies, as if it helped, "your physical state does not bother me. It does not make you any less than you are, my bride."
My eyes twitch as I am finally handed undergarments to wear. I find my voice again, finally, "that's not the-"
"My pretty bride."
I cease my movements. What the fuck is he saying?
I don't have time to ponder those words as the servants urge me to dress and then quickly begin to fasten me with bandages, namely on my thigh where I had a cut and on my bicep that had a burn.
And though I so badly wanted to whine in protest and dramatic spite, I do my best to contain them. After all, the servants were helping me, they don't need to be Force choked for doing a job they were tasked to accomplish by their malignant master.
The next moment, I was being put into an elaborate garment and then they started painting on my face. Suddenly, I was.... turning into something else. I looked at the mirror and everything was so very real and unimaginable all at once. This was all happening to me. This wasn't a nightmare, not a fever dream, and there was no escape.
And then they told him- my groom- that I was done and I stared at my reflection, unable to recognize myself.
Who in the world were you?
"Come," he says, raising his hand up to me, "we must not delay any further."
I look at his reflection from the mirror. I look at his hand, hid behind his glove, his body, hid behind his cloak, and his face, hid behind his mask. I was going to me wed to this stranger, hidden in darkness?
I stare at him. I clench my jaw. I tell him I'm not going but utter not a single word. I sear it in his brain with my eyes. I scream it, blare it out as loudly as I could.
And yet he only watches me. He watches me with an urging dark hand.
My heart pounds in my ribs. I expect him to begin to lash out at one point, to choke me next, but he doesn't. He stands there, just stands there, reaching out to me.
Was this his twisted way of making me feel like I was willingly going to him? His way of telling me he was the only route in my life now?
My nostrils flare and I gather my skirt. I stare at him as I walk past him. My body was rigid and I had no idea where I was going, but I walked. And then he opened the doors for me.
My hand twitched when he took it, as he was suddenly beside me. I gasp at the unexpected and uninvited touch and I turn to him in surprise, but it is arduous with this ridiculous headpiece on me. His hand is massive and burning hot against my freezing clammy one. He tugs me toward him, "it's this way."
So, we when go this way.
We tread the halls, and I swear I could feel people following after us, more and more each moment, but I couldn't look back, literally, the fucking headpiece was in the way.
And then the atmosphere started to get darker, and it was like it was suddenly so much harder to breathe. It was clear to me we were heading for that large door, and that whatever was behind there was not good. It was not good at all.
He waved his hands once and the doors opened.
There was a great and terrible rush of Force that knocked into me. It was so strong and terrifying, I tighten my grip on my captor, and I cling onto him for safety. My breath is knocked out of my lungs, and all at once I am facing this large entity, this massive body of darkness, the literal flesh form of all my worst nightmares.
I was reeling back in fear. My stomach was in my chest and my heart was in my mouth.
I was in front of him. The Supreme Leader. Snoke.
And he was looking at me, looking right at me with contempt, with impatience, with exasperation.
My feet were stuck on the floor and my fingers were digging into arm of the man by my side. I couldn't do anything but feel my eyes water.
I snap to look my side when my name is called out. I turn to my groom as suddenly he is pacifying me, comforting me even, "the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave."
I don't know how I feel about his words, I don't know how I feel about how he takes my chin in his fingers and makes me turn my body to him. I don't know how I feel when he steadies my stupid headpiece when it knocks onto his shoulder. I don't know how I feel when I follow him mindlessly, when he and I head towards his gargantuan master.
Snoke speaks the moment we are in front of him. His voice rings, it reverberates, in the hall, in my ears, in my thorax, and in the dark corner of my mind that shudders at the recognition, "you have done well, my pupil. Very well."
My eyes lock with Snoke. I evade his stare and abruptly pull away from the man on my right. He stares at me for a moment when I do so, then looks back at Snoke, "thank you, master."
Snoke grumbles, "well, remove that ridiculous thing on your head and let us begin."
I don't know whether it is because I am fearful of the evil-king before me or because I am anticipative of the face of the man behind the mask, but I turn to him with a desperation. I turn to him when he removes his helmet and my breath catches in my throat.
He tucks his helmet under his arm and looks at me with his brown eyes that glistened with something sinister behind them. He parted his lips and I noticed the scar by its side that started by his brow went far past his cheek and collar. His hair was somehow perfectly tousled even after staying inside his face cage for so long. I don't know how I felt after seeing him face to face like this.
I suck in a sharp breath when he takes my hand. He promptly begins to speak.
"I-" he turns to our joined hands as he lifts them chest level, "Kylo Ren," his eyes dart back to me, "take you-"
My skin pricks at how he whispers my name. He says it as if it were a secret, as if he meant it with reverence, as if it was solemn.
"-to be my wife."
My empress.
I suck in a sharp breath at his voice in my head. My breath picks up. My stomach rolls. Get out.
Kylo Ren rubs my knuckles, "To protect you, to honor you, to venerate you until my last breath, or even beyond."
And then he looks at me. He stares at me. He bores into my being and plunges into my soul. I feel my hands begin to shake in his hold.
Kylo Ren looks in silence and I look in fear.
I start at the harsh call of the Supreme Leader to our side, "SPEAK YOUR VOWS, GIRL!"
I screw my eyes shut and gulp. I have to get out of here. Get me out of here! My breath strains now more than ever.
Suddenly, I hear a soft voice in my head. Suddenly, I dare to open my eyes and I see a disconcerting softness in my groom's expression.
Shhhhhhh.
He hushes me in my mind. He repeats his words from earlier.
The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave.
I open my mouth and huff helplessly. I repeat my groom's words and tears begin to fall from my eyes.
Snoke leans back in his throne and tents his hands together, "good, good. Then by the power of the darkness, the power vested in me, The Supreme Leader, the ruler of the galaxies and all peoples," he nods his head, "two have now become one."
My shoulders rise and my heart pounds at the explosion of loud exclamations. I look around the hall and only now realize that there were hundreds of individuals, looking down at us from the balconies above.
"Long live the Emperor and Empress!"
I am at a loss for what to do next. I don't know if I want to run away or drop dead. I find myself looking to Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren, whose brows slightly furrow in his seriousness. Kylo Ren who looks up to his people and raises his hand that is clutching his helm, inspiring them to cheer even more. Kylo Ren, who then looks down at me and firmly grips my hands before leading me out of the room.
I don't know what happens after that.
I think I'm having a panic attack.
Am I having a panic attack?
Can someone even think if they're having a panic attack?
I'm not having a panic attack.
I'm not having a panic attack.
"Enough," he speaks, turning to me, clutching my cheek. Kylo Ren looks at me with knit brows while his gloved hands make me face him. My neck strains because of the weight of my headpiece. He blinks at me and slips the thing off my head. A weight is lifted off my shoulders. Very suddenly, I think I'd have preferred if he removed my head altogether. He uses his Force to bring the object away. I watch as it floats off to a dresser, beside his helmet that was already there.
All at once, I realize I was in a bedroom. I look back at Kylo in horror. Oh, fuck, I was in a bedroom.
He huffs through his nostrils, "your thoughts are as loud as sirens."
I clutch my skirt tightly and slowly begin to move back.
Kylo watches me. He tilts his head down slightly and narrows his eyes.
I swallow the lump in my throat, "so what?" I shudder, "you're going to force an heir in me now?"
He raises his nose and tilts his head to the side, "it is my duty to sire an heir."
I gulp. My breathing begins to get shorter and shorter.
I start when he steps forward. I put more distance between us.
I shiver when he calls out my name.
"Don't," I point, "don't come any closer."
Kylo Ren offers me the courtesy of stopping in his place.
I catch my breath and watch him as he brings his hands behind him. Goosebumps form on my skin when he speaks, "I have just vowed to protect you, to honor you, and to venerate you." He brings his hands to the clasp of his cloak, "I will not force you to do anything with me that you don't want."
I scoff, tightening my grip on my clothes, "and you think I wanted to marry you?!"
I tense when Kylo unfastens his cloak and folds it in front of him. I freeze in my spot in anticipation of what he's going to do next. He looks at his cloak then looks at me, "you do not understand it now, but you are the key to securing the strength the Sith, securing the Order."
A shiver runs down my spine. How can he say that so plainly?
I cannot comprehend how utterly indoctrinated this ideation is in his being. It is shocking honestly, to see up close and personal that he believes so much in his cause, that he genuinely does not see fault in this, in forcing me to marry him, in taking me by force, in destroying my camp, in laying waste to my people, on wreaking their ill-judgement to the stars.
I shake my head, "do you honestly believe I will eventually come to you with- with open arms?!"
Kylo Ren straightens his posture. I nearly trip when he walks over to me as I attempt to rush back. He raises two fingers and keeps me upright with his Force. He keeps me in place and stands before me. He leans his face close to mine, then barely opens his mouth to speak, "I do."
And then, he releases me and walks away.
I watch him as he exits the room and leaves me. The sound of the door closing is all that's left.
I begin to pant. I begin to heave in anger, in loss, in panic, in desperation. I have to get o-
I slap my hands on my mouth. I screw my eyes shut and shudder.
Silent. I have to be silent.
The next day he asked me to accompany him while he ate.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he said, I should join him, so that we would both grow accustomed to each other's company during such intimate moments, and that we would also get to know each other more.
I scoffed at the idea, so much for not forcing me to do anything I don't want.
"I am not forcing you, wife," Kylo calls across the expanse of the long table.
My eyes that were idly watching my fork swirl the unknown delicacy on my plate dart to him. My shoulders tense as Kylo Ren grabs his glass and drinks from it.
I huff, "do you mind getting out of my head?" I ask though it wasn't really a question, it was a threat, as much of a threat a captive could give.
Kylo sets the object down and taps his finger on it, "if you don't want to join me..." he thinks for a moment, "you don't have to."
I straighten in my seat. I silently look out to him in challenge.
I stiffen when the pitcher begins to float and water is then poured in my cup. I clench my jaw, turning back to Kylo, finding his raised finger.
"I would prefer if you dined with me though," he says, putting the pitched back down.
I turn to my food, idly pushing it around again, "I would prefer if I dined by myself... in my-" our "-room."
I hear him exhale. I hear the contact of his cutlery on his plate, "a disappointing conclusion."
I slowly avert my eyes from my food to him. He is now focused on his own plate. He mumbles, "but I will allow it."
The next day, I am woken to eat breakfast and urged to get out of bed. I explain to servant I was allowed to eat in my room and that I don't want to eat yet. I scoff in disbelief when I am told I am meant to tour the place with the master, with that damned Kylo Ren, and is thus advised to get ready.
And so I did. I got ready and went into the dining room and interrupted his breakfast. If I can't have peace, neither can he.
Kylo turns to me and nods, "wife."
I clench my teeth, "tour me now," I huff, "I'm not hungry, so tour me now."
He turns back to his food and seemingly debates my words for a moment. He then stands from his seat and puts on his helmet, leading me out of the room. If I could burn holes onto his back with my eyes, he'd have been nothing but charcoal.
I suppose I should have given more attention to his tour than I did because knowing the place would surely benefit me when I make my attempt to esc-
"Are you certain you're not hungry?" Kylo Ren asks out of the blue as he leads me down the weapons room, "you're quite snippy and demanding. I would assume that's because you're hungry, baby bird."
I can't help but scoff at his mockery, "or, this is just how I am," I mumble, "so don't act like you know me." I aimlessly look at all the weapons on display, weapons meant to destroy others like me.
But I do know you.
I avert my gaze to him. I stiffen as I glare.
"I have been in your mind and seen the depths of your soul," he mutters, "and I know you're irritable because you're hungry."
And then he conjures up a tin-wrapped object in front of me.
"Here," he gives me the item using his Force, "you can eat this while we walk back to our chambers."
My lips curl in disgust, "is this meant to be enticing?"
He tilts his helmet clad head, "it's meant to be my lunch for later," he grabs the floating object, then my wrist, placing the silver thing on my palm.
I tense in his touch and I am glad he doesn't linger long there. I look at his would-have-been lunch then turn back to him, seeing my scowling reflection on his dumb helmet, "what an honor to know I won't be poisoned since this is apparently yours."
"It is mine," he rebuts rather impatiently.
I roll my eyes and shove it into his chest, "if you want me to be less irritable, let me go back to my chambers." I catch myself when I say this. It sounds like I want to be in that damned cage, instead of outside of this compound. I correct myself, "or better yet, let me go."
Kylo Ren places his lunch in pocket that I didn't know he had, "We will continue this tour tomorrow."
And so we did. This time, he made sure to have someone come to me after I ate.
I must say, perhaps he was partially correct in the fact I was irritable because I was hungry. I did find him more bearable today, as far as forced husbands and captors go. But then again perhaps it was because he was touring me in the biggest library I have ever seen.
I couldn't even feign disinterest as he motioned to each area of the place and explained they were arranged by planet of origin.
I was far too busy craning my neck up to see how high the bookshelves reached that I bump into one. Or at least I thought it was a bookshelf and not fucking Kylo Ren. I jolt when I look at him, firstly because we had a collision, secondly because he magically didn't have his helmet on anymore.
I reel back as he looks down at me, on I think a more figurative sense if anything.
I am immediately uncomfortable under his gaze. I mutter, "sorry."
"You have questions," he mutters. He turns to me and lifts his chin, "ask them."
I evade his stare. Don't tell me what to do.
"I'm not telling you what to do," Kylo Ren retorts after hearing my thought.
I turn back to him. I snort and grumble, "stay out of my head."
He looks up at the shelves and then looks down at me with his eyes, "a hundred layers."
I pull my head back and scoff in disbelief, "the shelves have a hundred layers?" I look over my shoulder haphazardly, "seems unnecessary hard to manage."
"Well," he brings his head down, "it hosts knowledge from peoples across over the stars. It must be capable of securing the vastness."
When I look back at him, I tense when I see he has come far too close to me. It would have been wise to pull away, perhaps to even shove him off to get my point across, but somehow, I find his proximity as a challenge. I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes at him, "undoubtedly stolen, plucked from the rubble of your destruction."
A chill rushes up my spine when he smirks at me. It remains lopsided and smug as he whispers "I don't feel the need to preserve artifacts from a race that is unable to see the glory of my purpose."
That's it. I begin to slowly step away from him.
"Do you want to know how these shelves are managed?"
"No, I really-"
I make a sound when he grabs me and locks me against his chest. Before I can even begin to fight back, I find my feet get lifted off the ground along with him. Next thing I know, I'm gasping and clinging onto him for dear life.
"Put me down," I gasp against his chest as I seal my arm tightly against him.
He chuckles as we continue to float up. He tightens his grip on me as I feel myself begin to slip. He flexes his feet and pushes them beneath mine. I look up at him as I step on his boots.
"This is how you manage them," he iterated, then motioning to his side, "or you use the ladder."
I scoff in disbelief, grabbing onto his collar, "put me down, Kylo."
He blinks at me, lips curing into a bigger smile, "alright."
He slowly bringing me down and I tense when he clutches my waist and speaks out my name.
I look away from him and watch as the floor nears. By the time it was close enough, I jump off him and walk away.
Kylo Ren watches and chuckles, "the exit is the other, baby bird."
I stop in my tracks and glare at him. He does not waste time and walks up to me. My breath hitches when he does, reeling over the look on his face. He moves past me and walks away.
I watch him as he does so, and then an idea strikes me. I debate my chances on living here and convincing the servants to get me food... a bucket-
"Don't be ridiculous. I will throw you over my shoulder if you will not follow," Kylo Ren announces. He stops in his tracks and looks over to me, "you are my empress, not my captive, even though you feel that way."
I watch him as he raises his hand to me, reaching out to me again like on the day of our wedding, except this time, I could see his eyes and is pouty lips. I huff through my nostrils and grip my fists. I walk over to him glaring at him all the way until I move past him.
Kylo watches, a glint in his eye as he does.
I hear him chuckle.
The next day, I woke up, realizing I was allowed to sleep in. That got me tremendously excited, and so I quickly began to ready myself to begin my attempts at an esca-
I slap my hand on my mouth and release a deep breath from my nostrils.
I take a few more moments and ready to exit my chambers.
The moment I'm about to exit though, I am faced with a servant. I tense at the sight of her but offer her a pinched smile, "Rezba."
Rezba nods and walks in with a tray of food, "please eat before you leave. I will be scolded if I am found to failed to feed you."
Dammit, Rezba.
I sigh, turning to my feet. I watch the woman as she walks off and sets the table. She was one of the servants that helped prepare me on my... wedding day, the one that didn't get choked. As for the one that was, I have not seen or heard from her ever since.
My conscience presses on me every time I think of this. I sigh, walking over to her. I sit down on the chair by the table and smile, "thank you, Rezba. You can go now."
Rezba nods, "as you wish, empress."
I wipe my face as he walked away. I quickly stuff my face with the food. I mean, after all, if I manage what I do, I'll need all the food I can get.
The moment I was done, I exit my chambers and head outside with purpose. I nod at the personnel that greet me and make sure to keep my mask of confidence as I make it to the launch pad.
I practically beam when I see a ship ready for the picking. But then I feel a force surge through me.
"Fuck."
My bride.
I turn over my shoulder in horror. Lo behold, the dark mask of my groom, strutting over to me with troops behind him.
"Come to visit me?" he muffles out behind his helmet.
I clench my jaw and turn to him, doing my best not to roll my eyes.
Somehow, I can see his smirk underneath as he speaks, "you didn't even change out of your nightclothes."
I let out a strangled sound as I turn to the two people behind Kylo. One had red hair and one was as clad in uniform as the Supreme Lord.
"This is General Hux and Captain Phasma," Kylo motions to the two of them.
I hum, "yes... hello," I smile without meeting my eyes, "well, now that I've... seen my husband, I'm... I'm going back to my chambers."
The two behind Kylo nod at me. I try not be so annoyed as I walk away.
Next time you plan to escape, you should probably change into something that would protect you from the harshness of space.
I grit my teeth and snap over my shoulder, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"
General Hux recoils at my voice. Kylo Ren chuckles under his breath.
The next day, I have no such luck of escaping at all.
"Don't you have some-" I quip over my shoulder as Kylo tails me like the dark shadow he was, "-I don't know... planet to blow up," my voice gets increasingly smaller as I say this and hear myself.
Kylo Ren, in one of the rare occurrences he did not have his helmet on, stops to look at me. He presses his lips together, "do you have a pla-"
"No!" I raise hands, "forget that I said that... please."
I turn away from him and begin to tread deeper into the halls of the library.
I hear him snort behind me, "I don't want you to continue to delude yourself into thinking escaping is an option. It would just be a waste of both our time if you do so."
I roll my eyes and shake my head, "and I don't want to delude you in thinking that I would ever stop trying to escape you."
I actually stop in my tracks when I hear him laugh out loud. I turn over to him in great offence as he then turns to me with bright eyes.
I seethe with venom, "I'm glad one of us finds this funny."
He straightens himself up and crosses his arms, "it's funny how you fail to see how alike we are."
My face drops in horror. I march over to him and point a finger at him, "we are nothing alike!"
I jolt when he grabs my wrist and pushes my hand down. The amusement in his face falters and shifts into something else, "aren't we, my empress?"
My heart begins to pound. I pull away from him and recoil.
My breathing begins to pick up as I rub my wrist.
Kylo watches me and makes up for the space between us by walking forward, "did that hurt you?"
"Does it matter if it did?" I quip.
His face softens yet his brows tighten, "it does."
I scoff.
"I am not the monster you make me out to be."
I scoff again as I continue to walk back, "oh yeah, then what ar-" I gasp when I hit something. I panic and turn, seeing it was the step ladder. I have no choice but to halt as Kylo presses nearer. I swallow the lump on my throat as I look at his face.
I will myself not to be so affected by his presence.
I clench my jaw.
My willpower is not very effective.
"I am your husband," he mutters.
I freeze when he brings his hands to my side, though he does not touch me. His eyes dart to my hands that I clutch to my chest. He releases a breath, "I want to bring order to the galaxy."
A shiver runs down my spine, "Kylo..."
His eyes lock on mine. I even my breathing.
I shake my head and knit my brows, "do you genuinely think," I speak softly with no hint of malice, "that killing billions is order?"
His jaw tightens. He drops his hands to his side, "it is an necessary stake for the greater good-"
"Greater good?!" I quip under my breath, grabbing onto his cheeks. I look at him with wide eyes as he looks at me with a similar shocked expression, "you believe razing through the stars is the greater good?"
My whole body pricks when he takes my wrists in his hands and whispers, "my love."
I suck in a sharp breath.
"You do not understand it now," he explains, shaking his head, "but everything that I am, everything that I do," his voice becomes really quiet, "is for us."
My expression drops where his softens.
"For our future," he whispers, "for our next generation and after."
"Kylo-"
"I do it because I believe in our cause," he cuts me off, "I do it because without us, the galaxy will never know anything but chaos."
My breath begins to strain.
He releases one wrist and reaches out for my face, "I will do all it takes, and give you all the time to understand this."
Mu face burns at the feel of his gloved hand. I shake my head, "why?"
"Because you are my star, my burning destiny," he mutters, "the Force brought you to me. I felt you that day on your home planet, you were so strong, you were so strong and so misguided. I tried to kill you that day, but you got away."
My eyes begin to water. I begin to relive that day in my head.
"Then I dreamt about you, I dreamt about how you escaped me and how I hated that you did. Snoke saw it. He saw you in my head. He saw your drive. He saw your weakness. He saw what you could become. And then, he said I burned because you were meant to be mine. He said our Forces were calling for each other, which was why I could not stop dreaming about you."
I begin to tremble against him.
He clutches my face with both hands, "don't be afraid. It took me a while to understand it as well, but-"
"Kylo-" I shudder, "you don't dream of me because I'm your bride, you dream of me because of him!"
He stills.
"Don't you see?" I pant, "he's manipulating you. The dark side is mani-"
"If anyone has been manipulated, it is you, baby bird," he grunts, "you were indoctrinated with beliefs that are short sighted and weak. I would not-"
He doesn't finish and turns his head to the side when a voice of a stormtrooper buzzes through the hall, "apologies for the interruption, my lord. I was tasked to escort you to the throne room, the Supreme Leader is summoning you."
Kylo Ren turns to face him. I suck in a breath as suddenly, he grabs my hand and pulls me with him as we walk past the stormtrooper, "an escort won't be necessary."
If I wasn't shaking a while ago, I surely was now, and Kylo Ren could feel it. Kylo stole looks over his shoulder. I did nothing but try to even my breath as we tread the hall.
I could feel him holding onto me with his Force, trying to contain me almost... trying to comfort me.
I tense when he releases my hand in lieu of draping his arm over my shoulder, "he will not touch you. He will not harm you," he mutters as I look up at him. He stares straight as we continue walking, "I will make it a point to keep this brief. You have nothing to worry about."
I wanted his words to comfort me, I wanted him to be able to comfort me so badly. And yet when I was face to face with his master, I couldn't even muster the courage to put my faux brave face on. He pulled away from me and pushed me behind him as he greeted the being.
"Why do you continue to disappoint me so, Kylo Ren?" Snoke inquires with a voice of disdain.
This had something to do about me, I am sure of it.
"I am doing everything you asked me," Kylo retorts rather simply.
"And I gave you a bride, yet still you have no efforts for an heir!" he accuses, "must I teach you even in the ways of the flesh, boy?!"
Kylo clenches his fist, he mumbles, "no."
"THEN DO YOUR DUTY!"
"I am making sure everything is perfect for her. She cannot bear me and heir if she is damaged or scared," Kylo retorts.
Snoke tilts his head, "and are you trying to say that has something to do with me?"
"I am SAYING-" Kylo Ren starts, raising his voice as he did. In my shock, I pull back at his cloak, not wanting to feel the wrath of his master. Not now, not ever, especially not in my dreams, not again.
Kylo holds himself back. He huffs, "I will do my duties as her husband. This isn't something for you to meddle with."
"Meddle?" Snoke scoffs but then laughs. He, in fact, laughs so hard, it echoes in the room. He catches his breath then sighs, "Fine." Snoke raises a finger and suddenly, Kylo's boots skid on the floor as he is moved away to reveal me from behind him.
I turn to Snoke, feeling my heart quicken in my ribcage.
Kylo steps back in front of me. I take his arm and hold onto it for dear life.
Snoke stares at his protégé. He tilts his head, "I expect this to change, soon. Her belly should never not be carrying an heir."
Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.
Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.
Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.
"Enough!" Kylo snaps me out of my trance. I turn to him, eyes wide, body trembling. We weren't in the throne room any more, we were in our chambers, soaked in dark retreat of it all. I had no idea when we got here. All I know was I was here with Kylo, who was clutching my face so tightly. He looks at me with something of annoyance, something of concern, "don't think about him anymore, think about me. Just think about me."
I shake my head in sheer disbelief. I push his hands away, "is that supposed to make me feel better?"
Kylo straightens.
"You," I start, "want me here for the same reason he does!"
His expression hardens.
"You and him had plagued me with nightmares for as long as I can remember," I shake my head, "the only reason, I think, I don't have them anymore is because I actually get to live my nightmares out in real life."
"So?" he quips, "what do you mean to say?"
I bite my lip, "just-" I feel my eyes water, "take what you want and... and-"
I hold my breath when Kylo grabs my chin and tilts my head up to look at him. He brings his face close to mine. His nose is barely brushing my own. I feel his hot breath on my face as he enunciates one word, "want."
I blink rapidly at the sound of his voice.
"Shhh," he hushes, "if it's Snoke you worry about, don't. I have been planning something for him, long before you even came to me. He is the least of your worries," he explains. "But do you know what I want, bride?" he asks, as though to taunt me.
I shudder. I think of replying, but I don't.
"I know what you want," he mutters. He begins to move forward, and so I have no choice but to move back as he pushes me in the direction he wants, "you want to run away from me, baby bird. You think you can break free."
His hand only leaves my chin when my calves hit the foot of the bed and I fall back, heart hammering, breath clawing at my throat. He drones, "but what I want?"
Kylo Ren undoes his gloves and undoes his belt as he towers over me.
I want to strangle your light. I want to break you so badly. I want to fucking burn you from the inside until you can only hear yourself screaming from how good it feels to finally have your wet, little c-
I slap my hands to my mouth I hear the thoughts running through his head.
Kylo stills. He tilts his head then chuckles, "so... you heard that?"
I sigh deeply, attempting to even my breath as I back away from him. I squeak when he lunges and traps me beneath him. He crushes me against his chest and pins my wrists by my head. I turn away from him as he whispers hotly against my ear, "it would be so easy to have you like this, right?"
My screw my eyes shut. Tears lace my lashes.
"You won't even fight me off, you couldn't."
I shudder when he releases one of my wrists and brings his free hand down to my thighs. I feel my body burn and tingle at his slow caress.
He kisses my jaw and my skin there is set ablaze, "you don't want to fight me off," he chuckles, "you could at least do something with your hand to save face."
When I finally remember where my free hand is, Kylo takes it back in his and lifts his head, "too late." He pushes himself up, "look at me."
I clench my jaw.
"You'll know never to make me ask for the same thing twice."
I give a shallow huff and open my eyes, looking up at him.
"I want you to beg me," he whispers, "I want you to be so desperate to finally," he begins to further pull away, "finally, take you," he knits his brows, "to make you my wife that you get on your knees and weep for it."
A shiver runs down my spine as I watch him get up from the bed and grab his gloves, "until then," he reaches his hand out and uses his Force to cover me with the sheets, "you belong to yourself."
He haunts me in my dreams that night. Not as a figure of darkness, not as a ghost, but as a man, as starving entity, ready to consume me, eager to take me.
He haunts me every night after. And every night his intentions are made clearer and clearer until I wake up and think he and I wake up and I'm shocked he's not actually there.
It became hard to look at him, especially when my stomach began to flip and my thighs involuntarily pressed together. I was turning sick.
And then one day, the news spreads like wildfire. Snoke is dead, Kylo Ren is the Supreme Leader, and I, his Supreme Empress.
It was weird. I was called Empress before and he was called Emperor before, but now, now it was real. Now I was parading with Kylo Ren in the capital, looking at citizens waving at us and throwing flowers our way. And then I was shaking strangers' hands and Kylo snarled at whomever dared embrace me a second too long.
But what really cemented our reign and the realness of it all, was when someone tried to attack me. Kylo felt the assailant before he got too close though and choked him dead in the middle of the crowd. I watched as the man's weapon fell to the ground, as he withered in pain, as he eventually stopped moving. He suffered. I knew Kylo wanted him to. The festivities were long over after that, and I was then I was reminded of who he truly was.
He was a brute. A beast. The shadow in my mind. He was-
I turn over my left as a blanket is draped over my shoulder. Kylo Ren sits beside me on the bed and offers me glass of water, "I'm sorry you had to see that."
I huff at the sound of his apology. I wrap my blanket tighter on me.
He sighs and brings the glass to the table using his Force, "I would do it again, though. You should know. I would not hesitate even a second."
I curl my legs up into my chest, "am I supposed to be grateful?"
"I would prefer if you were," he mutters.
"Kylo..."
I suck in a breath when he says his name.
"I'm- I'm too tired to argue. I want to go to sleep," I mutter, moving on the bed until I was laid down. Kylo watches me as I do this, then stands.
"Wait," I call out, surprising even myself.
Kylo stills.
No turning back now. "I... I don't want to be alone... not after that... even though you did it."
Kylo waits.
He debates my words.
I hide behind my blanket, "nevermi-"
The next thing I know, I feel him move next to me. And there, he lies.
I feel him next to me. We're under the same blanket. I feel myself begin to grow warm.
"I can get a separate blanket if you're so uncomfortable."
"Get out of my fucking thoughts."
"... ... I don't want to."
I grunt and wrap myself tightly under the blanket, surely yanking however much was on Kylo off.
"Your mind is an oasis to me."
I say nothing.
"My mind is a dessert, you are my oasis."
I huff through the sheets, "don't talk to me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like that!"
"I'm telling you what-"
"I'm done with this conversation."
I close my eyes and tighten my embrace on myself. I release a breath and try to clear my mind.
"Are you that cold?" Kylo murmers
"I'm not cold."
"I know."
"Then why did you ask?" I quip turning to him.
I freeze when I do so, instantly regretting my decision. He was lying on his side, looking at me, his face was right in front of mine and his arms were wrapped around himself. He blinks slowly as he looks at me, "I know you want to be held."
I huff through my slightly agape mouth, then I clench my jaw tightly. I move back from him cautiously, retreating into my covers, into myself.
"I can hold you," he mutters softly.
I turn away from him, feeling my body ignite.
"I want to hold you," he whispers even softer. Let me hold you.
Shut up, get out of my head.
He takes a moment before speaking again. He releases a breath, "am I that terrifying to you, baby bird?"
Yes.
"Then why do you mutter my name while you sleep?"
I tighten my arms around myself. Stop trying to get into my head.
"I'm already in your head," he retorts, voice closer now, "and in your heart."
"Shut up," I whimper.
I hear high-pitched laugh in my head. His voice surrounds me through the Force. It makes my skin raise. I'm only telling you the truth.
"Face me," he mutters, "coward."
I scoff. I heave, feeling my insides curdle. I clench my jaw then hiss, "at least I'm not a killer with no remorse."
He laughs, "you're making it seem like I should have let him attack you."
"You didn't have to kill him!" I snap, turning back to him, pushing myself up on my palms, "you could have given him a prison sentence."
"For what?!" he barks back, unravelling his crossed arms, lifting face up slightly, "so he could plan to attack you again, but next time when I'm not around to defend you?!"
"He only wanted to attack me because I'm married to you!" I hiss, sitting up from my spot.
Kylo sits up too and shakes his head, "he wanted to attack you because he thinks you're my weakness."
"Because I am your weakness!" I quip, "I'm your docile bride!"
He scoffs, grabbing my jaw, "you made yourself into this, little girl," he leans towards me. My pulse quickens as he pushes my head back, hand coming to the side of my face, fingers digging into my hair, "you where the rebel that fought against my troops and managed to escape me. The Force is strong with you," he places his other hand on the other side of my face, "that is why you are my bride."
When Kylo Ren pulls away and lies down, my insides begin to burn, to fume, and rage at his words. I watch him and I slowly begin to see red. And yet, he closes his eyes and acts like this whole conversation didn't happen. He prepares to sleep like there's nothing wrong.
This is my final straw.
I lunge at him. I dart my claws out and growl. I jump on him and press down on his throat. I straddle him and lean all my weight all my strength onto his airways. His eyes shoot open. His hands dart to my wrists. He begins to choke. I put all my anger into my grip. I force against him, knowing full well if I lost the upper hand, I'd be dead.
Except he doesn't make an move beyond clutching my wrists. I wait for him to attempt to overpower me, I wait for him to throw me off him the way I knew he could, and end all of this, and, in turn, kill me instead, but he doesn't.
He doesn't fight back.
Instead he looks up at me as his air leaves him as his face begin to turn maroon, as his veins begin to stress, as his final breaths escape his lips. And then I realize what I was doing and I pull back.
I pull back and heave in horror, wrists breaking free of his hold, hovering by my chest as I looked down at him while he caught his breath. He closes his eyes as his palms land on my thighs. My eyes water, the same way tears laced his lashes.
Why didn't he fight back?
Why isn't he fighting back?
He wanted me to kill him?
He wanted me to kill him?
I watch as his chest rises and falls beneath me. I am then suddenly aware of our position. I feel a tinge burn in my cheeks and my core. It's inexplicable, whether I am embarrassed over the fact I tried to kill him or the fact I was straddling him beneath me.
Before I can get off him though, he finally overpowers me and traps me beneath him. Easily. Swiftly. I was nothing against him. And this fact was amplified as he pins my wrists down on the pillows overhead with just one hand. He presses himself against me, heaving heavily, as if he was doing something with great restraint. It makes my stomach drop.
"That's the difference between you and I," he pants, as his one hand comes up to my neck, "if I wanted you dead, my love..." he begins to press down on my throat.
I begin to panic and thrash beneath him.
Shhhhhh.
He steadies me still in his place. I am overcome by him, unsure if it was just his physical prowess or if he was using his Force as he pushes down on me. I get a semblance of an answer when the pressure on my throat remains and I unable to move my wrists though both his hands go to the sides of my thighs.
I gulp as he leaves hot kisses all over my skin. I huff sharply when I am released of my Force bounds. My hands dart to his torso, gripping at his clothes as I try to push him away.
I would never damage you.
I let out a sound when he releases his chokehold.
Not unless you want me to.
Kylo then begins to bring his face close to mine, pressing our cheeks together for a moment. My stomach rolls and my breath hitches when his hot lips meet my mine. My heart is racing. He undoubtedly could feel it against him.
My panic rises. I quickly manage in between kisses, "Kylo-"
"Beg me," he pulls away and breathes against my ear, "beg me..." he kisses the pulse on my neck, "to get off you-- to leave you alone, to shoot myself into the sun-"
Kylo begins to rub himself between my open legs. Slowly. Roughly. I whimper. He freezes. I feel blood rise up my face. I begin to push him back harder.
He tightens his hold on me, repelling my actions by pressing his weight further onto me, "beg me to finally make you live out your fantasies," his voice loudens, "to make you mine."
I grit my teeth tightly.
"Beg me," he groans, "beg."
I whine, nails digging into his sides as I push against him.
He kisses my jaw, hands leaving my thighs, grabbing my wrists, pushing them down on my sides, "use your words. Hark to me, my baby bird."
My breath hitches, "Kylo, please."
Kylo pulls his face back, nose just above mine, looking down at me with hooded eyes. He waits for me to continue, breath straining as he did. My lips part and my feel my pulse echo in every inch of my body.
I gulp and ready to speak... but I can't. I don't. My mouth goes dry and all I could think about was how his dark locks were framing his face, and how his lips were moving as he heaved arduously, and how I wanted to find where the scar on his face ended.
Then I am ripped out of my incredulous thoughts.
"Please what?" his breath his hot against my face as he coaxes.
I close my lips and catch my breath that was leaving me, "please... stop."
"Stop what, darling?" he utters. I close my eyes when he leans his forehead against mine. He releases my wrists, hands coming to my sides, nails scratching down me until his large hands ended up on my thighs again. I squeak when his hips buck into mine with more intent.
My hands come to Kylo's neck, fingers digging into the roots of his hair.
He shifts atop me, pulling his head back up, weight all on my core, making me moan at the pressure. His nose brushes against mine. He breathes out my name. My eyes shoot open because of it.
I find his eyes are screwed shut, a line between his brows. His jaw clenches. His nostrils flare as he steadies his breathing.
"Kylo-"
"Yes," he speaks before I even finish saying his name.
His eyelids slowly part when I tug his face towards me, legs tightening around his waist, crossing over his back. He lets out a huff that bounces from my face to his. His hands rub down to my butt and there his grip tightens.
Right when our lips brush against each other, he lifts his head ever so slightly and whispers, "beg me to make you mine."
My throat tightens.
"I need to hear it," his voice is soft.
I suck in a breath and call out his name.
He releases a sharp one as he says mine.
I call out his name.
He responds with mine.
I hesitate.
He rubs his nose against mine then says quietly, "make me yours please."
I suck in a breath. My stomach explodes with butterflies. "Make... me yours," I mumble, relaxing against him, hands rubbing down his neck to his shoulders. I close my eyes and sigh, "please."
He nods, "louder."
"Kylo-"
"Louder," he mutters with a tight breath, "one last time."
"Make me yours, please."
Kylo hisses then connects his lips to mine. He moans, amplifying the hungriness of the kiss. His hands are quick and desperate as they grip at my clothing. He pushes off me and begins to strip me of all the hindrances on my being
I whimper as he eagerly does his work. One by one, he rips my clothes off. He does so with such impatience, I hear the tears and the strains of my clothes.
He sits me down as he removes each piece off me until I'm left in my panties. I wrap my arms around my bare chest. Kylo leans in, hands rubbing my bare thighs. My skin pricks because of the contact. He mutters, "your turn, my dear."
He kisses me as he grabs my hands. He pries them off my chest and ends our kiss, placing my palms at the hem of his top. He lifts his hands, eyes not leaving mine, wordlessly urging me to strip him.
I shift on my knees and pull his top off, discarding it along with the rest of my clothing that he threw on the floor. My hands instinctively come to his pants, fiddling the belt on his waist band.
He gets on his knees and grabs my face. He pulls me in for a kiss, moving closer until I'm pressed against the headboard. He guides my hands as they push his pants down.
We keep kissing until he breaks away to strip all together. I don't have time to react cause when he does, he pushes me down using his Force, and brings my legs together as to rid me of the last thing keeping me modest. I screw my eyes shut as he snatches my underwear.
Before I could feel too conscious about being naked in front of the man that was my husband, about to consummate our marriage, I let out a shaky sound as my legs are grabbed and pushed apart.
I suck in a breath as my arms fly again to my chest. They only stay there for a moment. Even that, Kylo pulls apart as he presses against me. He presses my arms down on the pillows by the sides of my head.
I am unable to conceal my cries at the feel of his hot body pressing against mine. I feel his taut stomach press against my core. It drew out another sound I could not keep in. I feel my pulse against him. I feel my wetness smear on his skin. His hands leave my arms to grab onto my thighs.
When I finally dared to open my eyes, I caught the moment Kylo sank his head onto my chest and began to suckle at the skin on my sternum.
I whimper then I bite my lip tightly. Kylo looks up at me as he takes my left breast and nips at it. He begins to rub against me.
I fist his hair into my hands. I press my head back against the pillows. Kylo's hands travel to my hipbones and digs in his fingers into me. He releases my breast and checks on his work, appreciating the mark he left of my skin before continuing to attend to my breast with his mouth.
I tighten my legs around his waist as he continues to grind down on me. I feel my heart racket behind my ribs as Kylo moves to my other breast.
"Kylo," I whimper, as my nails dig into his scalp.
He moans and releases my flesh, whispering hotly against my skin, "yes, my empress?"
I exhale through my open mouth and look at him with a dazed expression. I clutch his cheeks, "I want you-- need you-" I sigh.
Kylo lifts his body slightly, one hand releasing my hip. "To what?" he murmurs, "-need to hear you say it."
His fingers roughly draw a line from my side to my core. I gasp when he touches my aching nub. I lift my head, looking out at his hand as he looks down on me. His two digits dote on the wet heat between my legs. He slowly rubs circles on my flesh, teasing my entrance.
He holds my hips in place as a squirm beneath him. Then his hands hook by the curve of my thigh and pushes one leg up to my chest. He leans in and says, "need to what, my bride?"
I whine as my hands brush down to his shoulders. I claw at him, pulling him closer to me, "need to..." whimper, "to be made yours."
He exhales loudly. He heaves heavily as he sinks two fingers into my sopping core, slowly and firmly rubbing into me, stretching my flesh deliciously. I whine like a wraith.
"You have no idea how long I've imagined touching you like this," he admits as he toys my entrance with his fingers.
"Kylo."
He pulls his hand away and grabs my other thigh, pushing it up by my ribs.
I look at him as he brings his face close and lifts his hips. He digs his fingers into the bend of my knees and my toes curl when I feel him press against me, hard and pulsing.
I lick my lips and break into a whine when he slowly sheathes himself into me, releasing a hot breath by the crown of my head as he did so.
I whimper at the feel of him sinking in all the way. I tighten my legs around him and reach out to the sheets by my sides and rip at them.
Kylo slowly begins to rock into me, groaning as he does so, "so warm, wet and soft," he grabs my hands and places it on his back, "so soft and-" he licks my skin and bites down.
I choke on my breath as he does this. His pace thrusts hasten. He hands grab my knees and push them into my chest, "mine. All mine."
He lifts himself up and ruts into me with vigor.
Soon enough I feel my mind blur while my voice lets out incoherences at the snapping of Kylo's hips.
I claw at his back with little regard for how much it may hurt him.
Kylo howls in response, quickening his pace even more, adjusting his hold on me until his position was perfect and my head was knocking slightly into the board.
"Fill you up with me," he grunts, "fill you until you're a mess, mark you until you're tender, repeat until you're sore."
I don't respond. I don't know what to. I don't have much of a brain to speak anything anyway.
Kylo thrusts into me at such a strong and steady pace, it's not long until I feel a flurry in my stomach and a tingle in my chest.
I whine out his name. I pull him into me. He leans in and huffs against my cheek, "feels good, right? I can make you feel good."
I catch his lips into my teeth. He rip away only to kiss me as he breaks me.
We pull away to breathe yet Kylo does lose his tempo. I feel my eyes water and my mouth dry over my continuous jaw dropped cries.
"Just want to make you feel good," he whispers heavily, "want to make you mine."
"Feel so good," I mindlessly mutter, "so - Kylo."
In that next moment, I feel my insides shatter around him. I let out a loud cry of relief. My fingers curl into his back as I tighten and convulse around him. My toes curl as I lock my legs around him. Instantaneously, I feel a sharp heat splatter into me and it magnifies my delirium.
I hear him curse and whine against my ear. I feel him tighten his hold on me as he continues the work with his hips, still as quick as before.
And as I ride out my high and tighten around him, only then does Kylo's actions find some irregularity. My head no longer hits the board, though my body very much still moves up and down with Kylo's movements.
As the final ripples of my pleasure calm down, so does the knocking of our hips.
When he is satisfied, he releases my hips and grabs my face. He kisses me and catches his breath in between.
"Do you want me to get off you?" he asks.
I quickly shake my head in disagreement and wrap my arms around him.
"Good," he rests his head beside mine and slowly relaxes on top of me. He sighs and brushes his nose against my head, "I want to stay in you forever."
I bite my lip and lean my face into his.
"I will write your name in the stars," he whispers, "I will give you everything in the galaxy. All you have to do is be mine."
I gulp and sigh heavily, yet I internally find myself agreeing.
His hand rubs my side, "I hope you don't get pregnant too quickly," he kisses my head, "there's so much I have to do with you first."
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ultralightpoe · 6 months
Text
Chaos - Bucky Barnes
Authors Note: terribly written but I'm clearing out my drafts
Warning: mentions of abuse
Word Count: 2340
Part One Here
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Enjoy!
“What the hell happened?” Cho snaps, moving to the gurney being pushed in and surveying the amount of blood that was spilling. “Back up! I need room, someone page Stark immediately!”
The lights of the tower flicker under the storm, and Steve watches as Cho’s team wheels the gurney away quickly, his hand shaking heavily. Panic claws at his throat as the scene from earlier unfolds in his mind once more, turning slowly to the redhead beside him. 
“Steve-” She starts before he shakes his head. 
“Nat, this is not a conversation you want to have with me right now.” He sighs, bringing a hand up to pinch his nose before he realizes it’s coated in blood and pulls it back sharply. “I need to shower.”
He storms off, shoulders squared as he thinks about all the reports he is about to fill out. 
“We won’t have much time, in and out as fast as we can. Everyone has their tasks?” Steve asks, making sure everyone nods back to him before making eye contact with you. “Y/n, I know this will be your first mission-”
“We should go before the storm gets any worse.” You interrupt, fixing your headset and moving to the bay of the quinjet, grabbing your bag before being the first to leave the ship and rushing to leave them behind. 
“Slow down Y/n.” You hear Bucky warn in your earpiece, and normally you would turn around to wait for him. But he wasn’t your partner on the mission today, so you didn’t turn and kept the same pace. They could catch up if they wanted. 
Bucky stops in his tracks when he sees you march off, not bothering to turn to him, his heart thundering in his chest. Normally you would slow down for him, normally he would have your back during missions. 
It was a slow realization that you would be alone. 
“Maybe we should-” He starts, feeling like a fool as Sam turns to look. 
“We gotta go, come on man.” He mumbles, watching as Nat takes lead. 
It was going to be a simple mission, in and out, Bucky reminds himself. Taking a deep breath before following the rest. 
“We need a report,” Tony sighs, tracing through the footage of the mission, eyes widening at the fight. “I’ve never….”
“Tony, I’ve never seen it before. And it’s my fault.” Nat sighs, rubbing her hand across her face. “I got involved.”
“How?”
“I got in Bucky’s head a bit. I was just worried-”
“Worried about what?”  
“About Bucky and- I just remember coming out of the red room and being so attached to Clint. I had no family, no story, no morals. I was just pain. I was in pain myself and I inflicted pain onto others.”
“You went through something terrible-”
“THEY WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TERRIBLE! Bucky went through 70 years of it and the experiments they ran on Y/n….. I just wanted them to safe. I didn’t want them to get hurt.” She sighs, picking at her hair. “I love them both and I just wanted them to take a break. Maybe they would see how much they needed each other, and they would finally admit it to each other.”
“You should know by now that Barnes never thinks the way we do.”
“He thinks he is going to ruin everything he touches.”
“I know someone like that.” Clint interrupts from the door, giving Nat a small smirk. “Let’s just take a night to rest, Cho will update us if need be.”
It had turned into a mess too fast, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The rain covered most of your vision as the walls of the compound seemed to be closing in quickly, the others screaming over the intercoms as they had been ambushed. 
You had been tasked to get the files from the lower levels of the compound, and you had planned to get it done quickly. You had not planned, however, to be locked in the basement as it began flooding. 
“GUYS!” You should, tears springing from your eyes as you cling to the door, the water reaching your ankles at the top of the stairs. 
“They blew up the dam-” Sams voice cuts through, half static half radio. “Steve, to your right-”
Gunshots could be heard in the background, Natasha cursing and you truly did not think they could hear you at all anymore. “Shit.” 
Instead of clinging to the door you turn to survey another way out of the room, eyes scanning over every inch of space to find your exit. The intercom in your hear rumbles with static before your name breaks through, Bucky’s voice sounding panicked. The next thing you know the intercoms have a sharp ringing through them that makes you gasp out and tear it from your ear quickly, dropping it in the water and diving in to find a way out. 
Bucky curses as he tears the intercom from his ear, dodging a bullet quickly and diving behind a wall as Nat stays covered by her own, making eye contact for a second as she tears her own comns out.
First the heavy explosion that shook them down, the dam breaking and water beginning to flood, Hydra soldiers attacking them and now their comns were down. Worst of all Bucky could not find you. 
Heart thundering through his ribs as he bites at his tongue to keep from grunting in pain when he realizes he had been shot, but right now that doesn't matter. He had to find you. 
“I have to find Y/n!” He shouts, watching Nat nod before he dashes to the exit that you were supposed to use. Just as he reaches the metal door something loosens in his chest, knowing you would were near and he could find you. He would never let you go he swore to god. 
He pulls the door, desperate to get to you, only to find it sealed shut. So his metal hand takes charge, bending into the metal as he grunts out, doing his best to get it off. A shout of pain fills the air as Sam comes into view, moving to help Bucky tear the door off. 
They make eye contact for a moment, the rain beating down on them before a blast of light blows them to the side, heat covering their bodies as they ram into the wall. 
Bucky’s head slams into brick, he hears Steve shout and Sam scream out in pain before it all goes blank. 
He would never see the chaos erupt. 
Steve is up the second the sun filters through the curtains, happy to finally get to leave his room and check on his friends' health. 
Nat is already waiting for him in the front hall of the med bay, a nervous look on her face as Steve walks past her to speak with Cho.”Any update?”
“He’s breathing.” She sighs. “And he was so lucky Y/n was there.”
You could hear the explosion from under the water, and in a panic you swam back up, only to find that the water had flooded to the roof and your face was pressed to the ceiling to catch your breath. 
Taking a moment to breathe as you hear Sam scream in pain, there was a pain in yoru chest that you couldn’t explain. It felt like a panic attack but worse, you couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t stop crying. 
“PLEASE!” You scream, hands pressing to the ceiling as the water gets worse. 
“Stop crying!” A voice breaks out, and you whip your head to find your old boss, the man that had thrown you into your first cell. The man that had ruined you. 
He was standing in the center of the room, and you had to blink for a moment to realize that there was no water, and you were completely dry.
“W-what?”
“Stand up!” You listen to him immediately, just as you used to, the tears still streaming down your face as you look around the room. It was different now, when you had come in it had looked like a simple office, now it was your cell. 
Or had it always been your cell?
Who was screaming?
“I SAID STAND UP!” Doctor Cornell shouts, stomping forward to drag you up himself, a slap tearing across your face as you cry out. 
“Where’s Bucky?” You gasp, the pain in your cheek fading away quickly. “I want to find Bucky.”
“You think he wants you?” Cornell laughs bitterly. “No one wants you, I’ve made you a fucking freak.”
“I want b-” Before you can finish your sentence you remember Bucky ignoring you, avoiding you….. And then you realize why. Cornell was right, he had made you a freak. You were a monster. 
A sob racks through your chest, and the painful feeling explodes. 
You try to scream out, only for your lungs to fill with water and more panic to take place. 
Steve could not believe his eyes, holding Sam's abdomen tightly in an attempt to stop the blood, watching as vines burst from the basement and travel across every surface faster then he ever thought possible. 
“Is that……” Steve starts, looking to where Nat was trying to get Bucky up.
“Y/n.”
Sam gasps out as the vines wrap around him, tightening around his wound and glowing a deep golden color as some of the blood stops, the vines traveling further and wrapping around the Hydra soldiers tightly to stop them all. 
Now that Sam's wound is being taken care of, Steve dashes to dive in the water, swimming down to try and find where you were. Only you were nowhere to be found, whatsoever. 
By the time he comes back up he is panting for air, watching as Bucky kneels by the water with blood leaking down his face and panicked eyes looking at his friend. “Where is she?”
“She’s not down there.” Steve gasps. 
“STEVE WHERE IS SHE?!” Bucky snaps, the water reaching his waist as Nat moves to snatch him back. 
“The vines are dying, Y/n can’t hold them off forever. We gotta go.” She rushes out, snatching the back of Buckys vest. 
“NOT WITHOUT Y/N-”
“Bucky. Y/n is holding them off but we have to get Sam out of here. Please.”
“Any word on Y/n?” Bruce asks, coming into the surveillance room where Clint is deep diving into the footage. 
“I can’t find her.” He admits, eyes never leaving the screen. “I would love some help.”
“You got it.”
“Lock the door before Barnes comes in and bothers me again.” He sighs, watching Bruce lock it. It was a joke, but he knew that Barnes was hurting. He could understand that. 
Bucky woke up in a startled panic, reaching to your side of the bed quickly, sitting up to find you when he doesn’t feel you. “Y/n?”
His voice is scratchy, a mix of all the screaming from yesterday, and he slowly realizes you aren’t there as the memories resurface.You weren’t here, you were gone. They weren’t able to find you yesterday. 
A knock sounds at the door and Bucky jumps up, excitement filling him as he rushes to answer, hoping to see your face on the other side of the door, only to find Steve on the other side. His heart plummets to his stomach as his friend looks at him softly. 
“You found your way to her apartments then?”
“I think I came here immediately yesterday.” He answers truthfully, letting Steve in before looking around the room, seeing all the dead plants. “How did her plants die in a day?”
“Buck…..” Steve starts, and Bucky tenses, fists clenched as he turns to his friend. “It’s been…. It’s been a week.”
“What?” Bucky laughs, flinching as Steve turns on the light. 
“It’s been a week. You came here the night we brought you back and you passed out, I think because of the head injury-”
“If it’s been a week then where is my doll?”
“We…. we can’t find her Buck.” Steve sighs, rubbing between his eyes. “I think it’s time you and I talked about some things-”
“Talk about things? I can’t talk I have to go find her Steve-” He moves to pass his friend but Steve shoots his hand out to catch him. 
“I think it’s time to admit you love her.”
Freak freak freak freak freak. 
Your mouth was dry and your feet hurt, this was the only thing you could comprehend. 
The lady in the market was staring at you wildly, looking terrified as she reached a hand towards you, concern flashing through her eyes. “Are you okay?” 
She had a heavy accent, one that reminded you of someone, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. What was it…..russian?
“Do you want me to call someone?” She asks, rubbing your shoulders. “What’s your name?”
“I…..I’m….” Who were you? You blinked slowly, trying to remember who you were. All you saw was a flash of someone with a metal arm before you were met with a bald man in a lab coat. “I… don’t…. Who am I?”
Bucky finds himself in the med bay the next morning after a long lecture from Steve, staring at Sam as his friend runs on the treadmill. 
“I… I am so confused. Steve said you were in critical condition?” 
“He was.” Cho answers in amazement, reading the stats that Sam is sending through the tech pad in her hands. “But he is completely healed.”
“How?”
“Y/n, there were traces of her vines left in the wound. It’s completely healed now.”
“Her…. she’s never done that before.” Bucky mumbles, a tight feeling in his chest. “What do you think it means?”
“I think we need to find Y/n, as fast as we can. That was way too much energy used.” Cho answers, a grim expression on her face.
Bucky could do that, he would tear apart the world to find you.
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samkerrworshipper · 8 months
Note
Please could you do an imagine with Lucy bronze where the reader is also on the England team and gets injured during a game and Lucy is basically just being really cute and fluffy as well as a little protective 🥰
AHHH
I loved this request sm so here you go!
i feel like this could be followed up with a part 2 to expand on the reader and lucy’s relationship so lmk if you want to see that! also please feel free to keep sending in requests god knows i need inspo rn lol
A shoulder to cry on
Lucy Bronze x Reader
fluff, lil bit of angst, injury, graphic injury, pain, hurt/comfort, 3200 words
blurb: when lucy’s girlfriend goes down in a match how does she deal with it and how does lucy look react
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I was too busy watching the ball flying towards goal to see the body flying at me. Too busy focusing on the Australian goalkeeper to acknowledge the knees slowly sliding under my own feet. Too busy focusing on getting my team a goal to give us a chance to stop myself from being floored by the Australian whirlwind, Ellie Carpenter. I went head first into the turf, my body flopping down onto the grass with my head dug into the dirt. My ears were ringing and I was a groaning mess. My whole body hurt and I couldn’t even muster the energy to turn over to access the damage that had been inflicted. All I could feel was gut wrenching pain, from my feet all the way to my hip.
When I was finally turned over I was met with the sight of Ellie and Steph Catley, two Australians that I didn’t want to see right now. I was a screaming, shaking, crying mess. Both women were very clearly taken aback by my emotion. The stadium was a ruckus, and as my teary eyes flashed up I saw my goal being replayed on the big screen, a goal. At least that was something, I’d done something to help us claw our way back. We were 100 days off from the World Cup start though, 100 days. Judging by the amount of pain I was in though that was nowhere near enough time.
As a professional athlete there is always the background fear that you are going to get injured. An overwhelming worry constantly in the back of your head that maybe this time it is going to be your last, maybe the next time you step on the field it might be the last time in a while. As you become a professional, as you start playing for your nation you learn to silence that part of your brain, you can’t afford to live in fear that you are going to get hurt. But watching teammates, friends, people you love get hurt, reinstalls that part of your brain, makes you wonder if maybe you are next, maybe next time it’ll be your turn. That fear though, it’s nothing in comparison to actually getting hurt, nothing in comparison to realising maybe this time it actually is your last.
That was all I could think about as the two Australian women tried to talk to me, tried to communicate with me. The first one of my teammates to rush over was Leah, who shoved both Australians away before crouching down beside me.
“Hey y/n, take a deep breath, the medics are about to get here, you don’t need to worry.”
Leah’s words were like a breath of fresh air, a break from the constant ringing in my ears.
“L-ucy, need Lucy.”
Leah nodded at me, smiling down at my face and nodding. Her hand made it’s way down to my face and wiped away the tears that were falling.
“She’s on her way angel, just stay patient for me, she’s making her way over, just take those deep breaths.”
“Hurts, hurts so fucking bad.”
Leah nodded at me, I watched her eyes creep down my body to my legs and that was how I knew it was bad, because not even Leah could avoid looking.
“I know, I know angel, I am so sorry that I can’t do anything about that. Just keep taking those deep breaths for me.”
I couldn’t help but continue to sob as I waited for someone, anyone to give me some kind of relief. All I could feel was pain and it was clear in Leah’s mannerisms that she didn’t really know how to help me, how was she supposed to help me?
“Y/n, listen to me, take a deep breath, I know you are in pain, the medics are getting here as fast as they can so you just need to take some deep breaths.”
It didn’t help that we were positioned on the opposite side of the field that the medics would be on and it was also a problem that if the umpire hadn’t blown her whistle they wouldn’t be allowed on.
“How bad is it?”
The words left my mouth in between sobs and breaths. Leah clearly didn’t know what to say, she clearly didn’t want to worry me any more but Leah wasn’t a good liar and she had a shit poker face.
“Don’t worry about that, keep your eyes on me. It’s just me and you, kiddo.”
Leah had taken me under her wing long ago, she treated me like her little sister.
I watched her eyes flash up in a panic and before I knew it she was jumping off of her feet and rushing off in the direction behind my head. I couldn’t help but turn my head to watch where she was going. I was still a little bit spaced out so it took me a few seconds to spot her out but once I did I found her rushing towards Ellie, who was sitting a few metres behind me. I couldn’t figure out why she was rushing over until I spotted Lucy approaching, running towards her, a look of absolute anger on her face. Leah was trying to get to her before Lucy inevitably got to Ellie. I watched it unfold as Lucy just made it to Ellie before Leah did, yanking her up by under her armpits.
I didn’t get to see much more, my head was pulled back to being flat on the turf by Millie and Sam Kerr, my ex-teammates from Chelsea.
“Hey y/n/n, the medics are just about to get here, it’s going to be alright.”
Millie’s tone of voice was similar to that of Leah’s, calm, patient, the voice of a captain.
“I need Lucy.”
Lucy was my other half. The love of my life, my everything. I wanted her, I wanted her to be there to hold my hand and to tell me that everything was going to be fine, even if it wasn’t.
“I know, Leah’s sorting her out, she’ll be here in a minute.”
Lucy was insanely protective over me, to a concerning degree. In the past year I’d made the decision to move to Barca, to be with her and it had been great but something I’d learnt from playing alongside her regularly was that she was a little bit too protective over the people she loved. A defender did so much as foul me on the pitch and she did everything in her power to seek some sort of revenge whether it was in the form of physically hurting them or doing anything in her power to get to them.
“I need her Mil, please.”
Millie nodded at me and then looked at Sam, I was in fucking shambles.
“I’ll go get her okay, feel better kid.”
Sam patted me gently on the shoulder before leaving just me and Millie. I was still lying on the pitch, fighting back more tears as I looked up into the sky and just prayed for this to all be over, for the pain to subside and for everything to just dissipate.
The medics were the next people to make it over to us, accompanied by Sarina and our trainer. The game had obviously been stopped for me so they seemed to be in a rush to get me off, with my goal we had a shot at winning now.
“Hi Ms y/l/n, how are you feeling?”
“In pain.”
My answer was flat and the medic let out an empty laugh at my reply.
“Okay, on a scale of 1-10 where would you put yourself at?”
“A 6.”
Sarina snorted at my reply, she knew that I had a high threshold for pain, I’d met her originally when I was playing as a rookie for Chelsea, she’d been the Netherlands coach at time and the coach for a professional team in the Netherlands which she’d tried to recruit me for but I’d turned her down. I’d never have guessed a few years later she would be coaching me on a National level.
“That means its a nine.”
I glared at Sarina, she knew me a little bit too well.
“Okay, this is a penthrox whistle, it should administer immediate pain relief, enough that we should be able to get you on the stretcher and off the pitch.”
I looked at Millie, then at Sarina, then at the Medic, immediately shaking my head.
“I’m walking off.”
All of their faces told me that I was missing something.
“I can’t allow you to do that.”
In all of the chaos, all of the emergence, I hadn’t had the opportunity to even look at the source of my pain.
Before I could say anything more Lucy was crouching down beside my head and I couldn’t have been more grateful to see her. Her hand slid into mine and just her face, her smile, it was enough to make me feel like I wasn’t fighting a fucking battle.
“Luce, can you please tell them to let me walk off the pitch, just let me have that.”
I was fighting back tears and I could tell that Lucy was fighting an internal battle. Her eyes flashed down to my legs and then back to my face and just the split second gasp was enough to tell me that it was bad, really bad. Her hand fell to my face and that was how I knew it was not good and that was when I started sobbing again.
“How bad is it? Stop beating around the bush just tell me.”
All of the people above me looked between each other before the medic spoke,
“Your knee is dislocated, you’ve got some deep lacerations and stud marks in your shins and a piece of your tibia is sticking out of one of them. You are bleeding a lot, we need to get you off the field and to hospital, take the green whistle and we’ll get you off the field as soon as possible.”
Those words hurt, a lot, more than the injury itself. I nodded to the medic, I wasn’t walking off the field with that list of injuries, I was surprised I was still conscious with that comprise of injuries.
“Baby, just take the pain meds, you're in enough pain.”
Lucy’s voice, her convincing was probably the only thing that made me nod my head and let them pass me the inhaler. I got straight to inhaling it, and within the first ten or so inhalation I felt the pain relief start to kick in. It was good, it made me feel almost ten times better. Lucy was there the whole time, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as they medic attended to my legs and Sarina wrapped a blanket around my shivering upper half.
It was about five minutes before I was floating on a pain free drug induced cloud. When that happened they started to transfer me to the stretcher, with the help of Sarina, Lucy, Millie, Leah and the two medics. It was a touchy process, they were very clearly trying to keep the movement of my leg limited. The actual movement of getting me onto the stretcher had me screaming, pain relief or not it hurt insanely and I knew at that moment that my World Cup dreams were pretty much over. I cried the whole way to the ambulance. Lucy and my teammates had to desert me once I made it over to the sideline so they could finish off the game, eventually, along the way I passed out from the mixture of drugs and blood loss, something I was grateful for.
When I started to stir I had a headache but I felt warm. It took me a few seconds before I cracked my eyes, it was dark outside, my room was dark. But not so dark that I couldn’t make out everything around me, the lights from the hallway and machines giving me a steady source of light. The first thing that I saw was that a big percentage of the Lionesses were piled into the room, Georgia, Leah and Keira and piled onto a pull out sofa, Rachel, Millie and Mary sharing the spare cot beside me and a few of the other girls scattered in seats across the room. It was cute, looking at all of my teammates who were clearly gassed from the game but still here. Sarina and Lucy were slumped in the seats immediately to my side. Just as I let my eyes float over to Lucy her own blueish eyes tiredly connecting with my own. A tight lipped smile made its way to her mouth as she acknowledged me.
“Hey baby.”
Her voice was hushed, it was clear she was trying her hardest not to awaken any of our teammates. As she blinked away the sleep she slipped her glasses over her face, locking her eyes properly with me once the frames were slipped over her eyes. Her voice was enough to put more tears in my eyes, I was pretty sure I’d cried enough tears for about six people.
She stood up quietly, letting her hand fall to my face, gently rubbing a circle against my cheek. It was enough to have my lip trembling and my eyes darting across the room. Before I knew it I was a pleading staggering mess.
“Why me? Why now?”
Lucy’s facial expression just broke into a frown and I could feel her worrying from a few centimetres away from me. Before she said anything she pressed her lips to my forehead. I sobbed into her, not really worried about waking up any of our companions.
“I know sweetheart, I know, it’s okay, I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.”
My breaths came out in hiccups and the hospital gown I was in clung to my body with the sweat that I was producing from working myself up.
“How bad is it, did we win?”
My words came out in pieces, it sounded like my Spanish, which was very rough and not very consistent.
“No, but don’t worry about that. They relocated your knee, you had to have surgery on your leg but it’s just a metal plate and some stitches for the lacerations from Carpenter’s boot.”
I honestly felt bad for the Australian defender, she’d had it bad enough with the press for the last while, let alone getting someone else’s blood all over their cleats.
“So my world cup dream is over.”
Lucy let the words hang in the air for a few seconds, it solidified the words in the room.
“Hey, not necessarily. The doctor said that the surgery went really well, that the fracture was pretty minor and that he expects a speedy recovery. You could be back running in 4-6 weeks.”
Even Lucy didn’t sound that optimistic, it was clear she was trying her hardest but she was struggling.
“My fitness will be shot, 4-6 weeks off the pitch pre world cup practically guarantees my spot gone, even if I’m running, in what world would Sarina take the chance of putting me on the pitch.”
Lucy’s brow furrowed, it was hard to catch in the dim light but I managed to with my eyes adjusting to the darkness.
“I won’t have anyone putting my girl down, especially not you. You will be fine. I can’t promise you that you will make it back on the pitch, you will make it to Australia, if it’s the right fit. Maybe it won’t be, maybe that’s fate and I know that’s shit to accept, shit to get the short straw and I am so sorry that you are in that position. If I could switch with you I would. I would do anything for you and you know that, I’ll be here for you everyday, I will give up anything to make this easier for you, I can promise you that. I can promise that I’m here to be whatever you need. You need a shoulder to cry on? I’ve got two. You need someone to listen? I’ve got two working ears and great advice if you want it. You need someone to just be here for you? I will sit with you for as long as you need.”
Lucy’s words hit home for me. She had always been willing to do anything for me, she’d walk to the ends of the earth to do anything for me, she’d made that clear from when we’d first met. I’d been apprehensive from the beginning but she’d fought and fought until I’d given into her and when I had I’d fallen head over heels in love with the woman.
I moved myself over in the bed and patted down next to the space I’d left open beside me. Luc seemed apprehensive to begin with, her eyes darting between my leg and my eyes.
“Please, I just want my girlfriend to hug me, can I have that?”
Lucy bit her lip, she was clearly a little bit nervous about the idea but her slumped shoulders and tired eyes were enough to tell me that she was tired and just as needy as I was. Neither of us slept well without the other, on the rare occasion that we were separated we both struggled with the loss of contact.
“I’m not sure y/n/n, I don’t want to hurt your leg.”
She was so cute when she was nervous, her voice a nervous murmur. I put her worry to rest fairly quickly though, the pain meds were running through my veins and I was equally as tired.
“Luce, my bad leg is on the other side, I just need some contact, I need to feel loved and comfortable and this hospital bed is making that hard, so please, just hug your girlfriend.”
Lucy sighed and nodded at me, she couldn’t deny me, ever, I had her wrapped around my little finger.
“Alright, how about I slide behind you and you can rest against me?”
It took a little bit of push and shove and some wincing and pain on my side but eventually we got Lucy situated behind me, up against the pillows. I was resting comfortably against her chest and stomach, my head resting in her neck. It was everything I’d needed to make me feel a little bit better and once we’d both gotten settled I smiled up at her gratefully. She pressed her lips to my forehead, I swore that I could feel the compassion behind it but maybe that was the morphine speaking.
“I love you.”
She’d smiled down in that goofy way that she did when I gave her a compliment. Lucy was a goofball, it was one of the things that I loved about her. She was always laughing and making people around her laugh, she was just full of good energy and it made me a better person.
“I love you too, my love, always, get some rest. It’s all going to be okay.”
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year
Text
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Miguel barely allowed himself the moment of reprieve primarily for the reasoning that evil never sleeps and therefore by that logic, he shouldn’t have to either; or at least minimise his sleep to accommodate for longer night patrols. His desire to keep his city safe was admirable but soon become detrimental to his health as his body -despite the genetic splicing- was starting to collapse on him due to frequent neglect of the basic bodily needs.
It hurts you to see him like that and you knew that if he were to be confronted about it, Miguel would immediately become dismissive by stating that this method was completely logical from his standpoint, as it was a means to minimise the criminal activity within the city. Miguel always thought it was his responsibility to crack down on the crime rate, even though there were people who’s jobs were to do exactly that, but in Miguel’s eyes their methods of detaining criminals was comparatively a slap on the wrist as to what punishment they should be receiving.
All came ahead one night when he returned home particularly more battered then usual and on the verge of collapse; you were quick to act in stabilising his upper body in your arms but in due to his muscular form, you were both forcibly brought down to kneeling in the dimly light room that had the curtains drawn for convenience.
‘Miguel, what happened out there?’ You said as softly as you could as you moved your hands to hold his jaw with tenderness, as to not inflict more pain by accidentally applying pressure to the many cuts and bruises that littered his worn but handsome face. ‘Just caught a bad night, it’s nothing I can’t handle.’ He tells you as he’s pushing your hands away from his face, thinking that would be enough to reassure you when all it only proved to do was the opposite effect; Even as your watching him make an valiant effort to stand but from the way he was griping onto the bed frame like a lifeline or crutch, it wasn’t hard to tell that whatever happened out that had already begun to take it’s hold long before he arrived home.
Riddled with worry and annoyance at how nonchalant he was about his condition, you soon got up off the floor and made a reach for his arm that was leaning reliantly on the bedpost, feeling the muscles as they tensed under your touch. ‘This isn’t just nothing though, is it Miguel. I mean look at you, you’re barely able to walk on your own without needing something to use for support.’ You heard him sigh deeply as he then spoke. ‘How I’m doing hasn’t got anything to do with you, y/n, I’m capable of looking after myself.’
His words were with thinly laced with venom but you merely scoffed, knowing by now that he didn’t have it in him to hurt you, not that he ever would, he’d never forgive himself if you hurt on his watch and by his hands by that, but his stubbornness and inability to let others help him had finally became his Achilles heel. ‘You know damn well that’s not what I was implying, I know you can handle yourself in the most toughest of situations but is it such a disservice to yourself to rely on others now and then.’ Miguel didn’t say anything and you took that as your cue to keep talking while you still had his attention.
‘Look,’ you stepped closer to him so that you could see his face, his brows were heavily furrowed and his jaw was in the motion of clenching but flinched when reaching a particularly bruised spot; He looked like the image of what you thought a war torn angel would look like, he bared his flaws like scars that were scattered across his perfectly sculptured body whilst also keeping intact his god gifted beauty.
Miguel was perfect in every way to you but to himself he might as well have been the devil reincarnate. ‘I know you want to help the city but how can you when your own body is falling apart before you. You can shoulder the responsibility all you want but sooner or later that responsibility is going to start crushing you under it’s immeasurable weight and no matter how hard you push back, it’ll only push back harder.’ You trailed your hand down his arm until it rested upon the back of his much larger, stronger one and squeezing it. ‘I just wish you trusted me more because I’m more then willing to help but I can’t if you aren’t willing to let me.’
You both stood in silence as the nightlife of the city just outside the window continued on undisrupted and unaware of your squabble, all that could be heard was your in tandem breathing and the muffled laughter of passersby, which only felt to have gotten louder with the time spent without a response from the male next to you as your hope for Miguel to see reason seemed to dwindle; why couldn’t he see that you were merely thinking of his well-being and didn’t wish to see him end up dead in an alleyway you couldn’t reach.
You didn’t know if you could bare to stomach something like that ever being the possibility and you didn’t wish to be plagued by the what ifs, going insane by wondering how differently things would’ve turned out had you stepped in earlier and you certainly didn’t want to be burdened with the guilt and the depression that would soon follow afterward to remind you of your shortcomings; You didn’t wish that ending for Miguel for he deserved a far better one that ended on his own terms.
Just as you were about to give up all hope and leave him to his own devices, begrudgingly accepting that you couldn’t get through to him, the hand you were grasping moved to intertwine your fingers together, although gingerly as though Miguel was half expecting you to pull away but when you didn’t, his hand then proceeded encased yours entirely. ‘For the record I do trust you.’ He said. ‘I probably trust you more then I’ve ever trusted anyone for you’ve never made me think twice about ever placing my trust in you because you always end up proving why I chose to let you in. I’m sorry that I don’t open up as easily when it comes to help but I just didn’t want to make your life more of a incoherent mess because of me.’
‘My life was already an incoherent mess before you came along, if anything the moment you became apart of my everyday life it became a little more clearer to me as to what to do with my life.’ You told him.
‘And what’s that?’ He asked.
You smirked as you nudged his arm slightly. ‘To make sure your stubborn ass doesn’t get killed prematurely.’
Miguel scoffed but couldn’t help the smile stretching across his lips at the sound of your laughter, something that was much needed after a night like tonight as to remind him what he was coming home to after every patrol; the heavenly sound that was your laugh he swore had some hidden abilities for each and every time he heard it, he immediately felt better. ‘That’s funny but I’m pretty sure I’m we should be doing something about now.’ He responded blankly but you could see the humour in his scarlet eyes.
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iiseult · 17 days
Note
Oooh open requests! May I have King Baldwin with a wife reader who sweetly helps him treat his wounds regardless of how he tells her not to come into direct contact with his skin? Please, do it nice and fluffy, if it's not too much trouble! Thank you!
WEDDING NIGHT: Baldwin IV x reader
CWs → fluff, probable historical inaccuracies, she/her pronouns, leprosy, christianity and mentions of god, reader and baldwin just got married!
Note: This is the first request I've ever responded to! Thank you so much for sending it in, I really hope you enjoy! <3 Also this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away
Wordcount: 2k
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
Baldwin was laying on his stomach with his bandaged arms and legs stretched out across the large mattress, and his face nuzzled into a plush pillow. The day had been strenuous for him, requiring much more standing than he was accustomed to, and his body ached terribly. Though originally just on his hands and face, the disease had recently spread up past his wrist and onto a small patch of his back, causing an uncomfortable burning sensation every time his clothing brushed against it. He was waiting for his physician to arrive and apply his nightly soothing salve, which usually helped to relieve some of the discomfort that resulted from the intense dryness of his skin. But when the door opened, instead of his physician, it was you. 
Hastily, he sat up, looking around to find something to cover himself with. Besides the bandages wrapped around his ribcage, arms, and the middle of his face, the only thing he had on was a pair of white linen shorts. You covered your mouth and giggled as he scrambled to grab his robe from the nearby chair it was draped over.
“My lord, that really won’t be necessary. I’m only going to take it right back off once you put it on,” you said playfully, closing the door behind you and sauntering towards him. You were carrying a small basket in your left hand. He furrowed his brow and instinctually clutched the fabric to his chest, hoping it covered most of his exposed skin. A wave of heat rushed to his head, and he suddenly felt a bit dizzy.  
“Lady Y/N– I mean, Your Highness, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice betraying his mild panic as his eyes followed you across the bedroom. You had changed out of your wedding gown in favor of a tightly fitting dress of a deep emerald green and a low neckline– typical attire for a bride on her wedding night. Heat rose to his cheeks as he admired his new queen’s attractive figure, on display just for him. He really hadn’t been expecting this. You had to know that, given his condition, consummating the marriage would be more trouble than it was worth, and attempting to sire an heir with him would be a completely fruitless endeavor. Why, then, were you standing before him, looking like the very picture of grace and beauty? You smiled gently at him, setting down the basket and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 
“Let me help you. Please, lie back down so I can take those bandages off,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. You waited a moment, but he only gawked, eyes still shamelessly concentrating on your choice of wardrobe. You sighed and placed a hand over his bandaged one, looking deeply into his eyes. 
“I promise I’ll be gentle.” 
He hummed sadly, shaking his head no, knowing he could not give you what you wanted. 
“I believe that you would, but I cannot allow it. If you were to come into contact with my bare skin…” he trailed off. You bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t agree to it. 
He noticed your disappointment, and his eyes softened a little. 
“Look at you, your skin is so pure…if anything were to happen to it on my account, I could never forgive myself. Not only because of the pain it would inflict upon you, but also for my own selfish reasons.” He spoke slowly, letting his words sink in. 
“My wife, you are so beautiful, and so smart. You have so much to give, and you are everything I am not. If you were to put yourself at risk of becoming like me, you would be condemning yourself to a short, bitter life of wasted potential. Though I may not be long for this world, I want to spend the remainder of my days admiring you and all that you bring. Please do not forsake the gifts God has given you for fleeting desires of the flesh,” he begged. His blue eyes were so wide, pleading, swimming with genuine emotion, but it wasn’t enough to break you. You knew what you wanted.
“Baldwin,” you said, addressing him directly for the first time, “Just this once, please. Let me do this for you.” 
You tugged lightly at the fabric bunched up in his grasp. He resigned, allowing you to pull it away and discard it at the foot of the bed, leaving his mostly bare chest exposed to your intimate gaze. No woman had ever seen this much of him before. He watched as your eyes traced his body, beginning at his delicate neck and protruding collar bones, then down to the smooth expanse of creamy skin covering his chest, and finally to his well-defined middle. Those parts of him had yet to be contaminated by his affliction. You had yet to ever come into contact with his bare skin, but the way you were studying him, he could almost feel the sweet sensation of your fingertips ghosting over his body. 
“Y/N, I’m sorry if you had hopes of…enjoying a true wedding night with me, but I must be honest with you, even if it does cause me great pain and regret-” 
You hushed him quietly, clasping his hand in yours a little tighter. 
“No, my love, you don’t have to explain to me. I understand. That is not what I came for. I simply wanted to take care of my husband.” You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you gazed down at him lovingly. He let out a breath and untensed his shoulders, relieved that he wasn’t letting you down after all. The sight of you smiling down at him with all the love in the world melted his heart, and his resolve broke. 
“Alright. But please promise me you will cleanse yourself thoroughly afterwards. We must do everything we can to prevent the spread,” he whispered, dropping his hand to allow you to have your way with him. 
Slowly, carefully, you reached for him, stretching your fingertips out and finally grazing them against the middle of his chest. He inhaled sharply, watching in awe. Your touch was feather-light, but it sent a spark of heat straight to his heart. His skin tingled. Gently, you applied a bit of pressure, encouraging him to lay back. He stared into your eyes and refused to look anywhere else as he readjusted his position, locks of blond hair shifting away from his brow as he reclined.
“That’s it, just like that. Perfect. Now, just relax, I brought some oils and salves for you. I’m going to take this bandage off now, okay?” You said, reaching for his wrapped hand. He nodded, and you slowly began unwinding the linens, peeling them away to reveal the most decayed part of his body; his right hand. Any skin left intact on it was shaded by a grayish hue, and the rest was just angry, red, open sores. You fought the urge to wince, not because it disgusted you, because it didn’t, but because you empathized with Baldwin, feeling the pain he must have felt in that moment. The bandages you removed were dotted with blood and other secretions from the angry wounds. 
You continued unraveling, all the way up his arm, and its condition gradually improved the further up you got. Then you moved to the other arm, repeating the same process. Soon, it was time to attend to the linens coiled around his torso, protecting the rash on his back. 
“Can you sit up for me, please?” 
He wordlessly obeyed, watching you work through his curtain of fine, golden hair. You scooted over until you were fully seated on the bed, face to face with him. He was suddenly glad for the bandage covering most of his cheeks and nose, so you didn’t detect the blush rapidly spreading across them. 
You reached around with your left arm and placed your cool palm against his shoulder blade to steady him as you pulled away the bandages. He sat as still as possible, not sure what to do with himself. His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Your hand was so soft, so slow…it was lulling him into a trance. He sighed deeply, letting the air roll all the way through his lungs. You deftly unweaved the bandage with your delicate fingers, working swiftly to avoid any discomfort that the pulling might cause him. Soon, all that remained was his face. 
Wordlessly, you slid a hand up the back of his neck and cradled his head in your palm, threading your fingers through his curls. He let his head fall back, confident that you would support him, and closed his eyes. A quiet rumble emanated from the back of his throat when he felt your fingertips brush his forehead. Then, you peeled off the last bandage, finally exposing the sensitive skin of his face to the cool evening air. 
Yes, his complexion was blemished and inflamed, as you expected. His nose was red and dry, some of the skin flaking off completely. His lips were in much the same condition. A smattering of pink blotches covered his handsome cheeks. But to you, nobody had ever looked closer to perfect. You grinned and cupped his face between your hands, gently circling your thumb over his cheek. His pretty blue eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled back, letting out a short laugh he never meant to let out. 
“You are such a beautiful boy, Baldwin. I love seeing your smile so much,” you said, tracing his bottom lip. That smile only grew as he closed his eyes in bliss. Your warmth was almost too much for him to handle. 
“I’m going to apply the salve now, okay?” you asked, gently laying his head down on his pillow and reaching for a bottle from your basket. 
“Mhmm,” he hummed contentedly. The smell of lavender and chamomile permeated the air as you scooped up a large blob of the salve and gently smeared it over his cheekbones. He sighed in relief as soon as it touched his parched skin, his pink lips parting. Soon, his face had absorbed most of the moisture, making him glisten in the candlelight like he was made of porcelain, and you moved onto his back, having him turn over. You ran your hands over the plains of his shoulder blades, massaging the tissue to help relieve any aches that may have built up. He groaned into the pillow in satisfaction. You smiled, continuing your ministrations. 
Needless to say, Baldwin had never experienced anything remotely similar to this before. The way you handled him and didn’t shy away from coming into direct contact with the most afflicted parts of his body made his stomach do flips. Maybe he could get used to this. 
‘I think I’m all done, my king. You can turn back over,” you said softly, putting the cork back in your bottle and stowing it away in the basket. Baldwin stretched leisurely and rolled over, hair partially obscuring his half-lidded eyes and crooked smile. He suddenly looked so young; only eighteen years old and he had already led an army. 
“Thank you, love,” he murmured, reaching out to grab your hand, bravely intertwining your fingers. He figured the damage had already been done, and there was no harm in a few more precious seconds of warmth. So he swiftly lifted your hand and pressed it to his delicate lips, almost burning your skin with the lingering passion in his touch. 
Now it was your turn to blush. 
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dark-and-kawaii · 6 months
Note
With the way you write Haarlep, I can just picture them being blindsided by Tav giving them aftercare (because we all know that Raphael doesn't) or tending to their injuries after Raphael "disciplines" them. Like after Raphael punishes Haarlep for acting a little too familiar with Tav, she takes one look at the incubus and is doing what she can to make it better. Nothing sensual (at least not intentionally on Tav's part), just honest to goodness tenderness. I'd love to read a thingy about that.
༺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐬 ༻
Soft Haarlep Prt. 2
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I just want to say thank you for sending in this request because this has became one of my favorites I’ve written!!!! I really hope you enjoy it ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞!!! and would love to hear your feedback!!! I made this as a sequel to the previous Haarlep request!!!
Angst - Comfort - Injuries
- PRT 1 (Click Here) - PRT 3 (Click Here) - PRT 4 (Click Here)
Ao3
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Haarlep lay on the ground, battered and bruised, their throat burning from the punishment inflicted by Raphael. You were discarded like rotten flesh in the corner, your skin adorned with fresh bruises, your hair matted… And the rest of your body… Well that didn’t really matter because you did beg Raphael to spare Haarlep. Which he did in his own sick twisted way. Haarlep, that’s what mattered at this very moment. Summoning the strength within you to rise from the ground to tend to them, that’s what mattered.
The moment your hand touched Haarlep's cheek, they felt a mixture of surprise and a flicker of warmth amidst their pain. Your thumb gingerly tracing over their cracked lip, and with a soft voice, you spoke, "Don’t move, okay?” Your eyes were filled with sadness, not for your own pain, but for theirs, “I'll be right back." You then proceeded to stand back up on two wobbly legs, Haarlep could see the struggle… It reminded them of a freshly born Nightmare foal -horses of the hell realm- learning to stand for the first time. Just as you were about to lose your balance and collide with the cool unforgiving ground, Haarlep interjected. Their tail pressing against you to help keep you steady for a moment.
Mouthing thanks to them, you make your way to the center of the room where the bath was. You grabbed the nearest cloth, dampened it, and returned to Haarlep's side. With gentle care, you pressed the cloth against the bruises on their neck and their tender skin. Haarlep's tail, instinctively swishing back and forth, reflecting their initial amusement at the irony of a vulnerable mortal attending to them, an incubus whose very nature was one of darkness and desire.
"How utterly amusing," Haarlep began with a weak chuckle, trying to mask their inner bewilderment. "The crippled mouse tending to the cat that led it to its own demise." The familiar playfulness of Haarlep’s nature collided with the unfamiliar tenderness they felt towards you. They couldn't fathom why you would show such kindness to them
Your eyes brimmed with tears, your lips trembling as you fought back a cry. Witnessing their cracked lip bleed, a single tear cascaded down your cheek, "I'm so sorry, Haarlep. This is my fault," you whispered, your voice trembling with genuine remorse.
A laugh escaped Haarlep's lips, but this time, it lacked mockery. It held traces of vulnerability, an acknowledgment of the empathy that defied their role. "Ha! What a perplexing situation," Haarlep smiled, their tone still of his nature but with a tinged of newfound sincerity. “What am I to do with such a fragile little thing.” Their hand embracing your chin gently as their head cocks to the side, their fiery eyes still locked onto you, “Why stay and tend to a fiendish creature like myself, who hails from the very depths of the hells?" It was only for a fleeting second, but Haarlep’s fingers kissed your chin with a tender caress just before their hand fell back on their knee.
Your sullen gaze softened as you continued to tend to their wounds, your hand unwavering, "You're trapped here, aren't you? Bound and alone," you said softly, your voice carrying an unmistakable truth, "No one deserves to be alone, not even an incubus."
Haarlep sat in the silence watching you. Despite the darkness that surrounded you, your kindness and understanding had silenced Haarlep. They didn’t know what to say nor do, it was the first time they’ve ever experienced such a gentle and pure soul even after Raphael’s assault. Your body was more broke than even Haarlep’s yet you sought to comfort them first…
Haarlep's tail, a physical extension of their emotions, gently moved to rest against your thigh. Their unspoken way of saying thank you, expressing the depths of gratitude best they could.
Taking notice of the feeling of Haarlep’s tail, your eyes wander towards it. Placing your hand atop of their tail, symbolizing acceptance, “I won’t leave your side, I promise Haarlep.” With that, Haarlep decided to bask in the comfort of your touch, their eyes closing as you pressed the damp cloth to their temple.
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jacksprostate · 4 months
Text
For a moment, my world is a single concussive blast, shattering my skull and sending my soul straight to hell. Direct flight. Short enough, there's no single serving refreshments to match the minty white hot incineration of my mouth.
When I open my eyes, cavern the size of Kansas blown through my last good cheek, the afterimage light of the bullet inflicted on the world — it's with the distinct sense that I fucked up.
I had told Marla, I wasn't killing myself. I was killing Tyler. But doesn't anyone with a gun in their mouth want to die?
I try speaking, and it works about as well as one would expect. I wave them away. Even Marla. Strangely enough, they listen. Or maybe they go to find a paramedic. No one ever told them to staunch the massive source of blood flow first. That's alright.
This is time to think. Solo reflection before group therapy.
I am alone, and Tyler is nowhere in sight.
Maybe it really was a murder suicide. Both victims, Tyler Durden. Cause of death, his stupid, stupid creator stopped wanting him. I realize this puts me in the stance of God, and I shudder. Tyler is not one of millions axeing themselves because daddy dearest and holy didn't love them enough.
And yet, I'm standing in his paraffin iconography. His pointless tomb.
Tyler says, "That's not quite nice, you know."
Tyler.
Cortisol receptors, burnt, back on fire.
Houston, we have a problem.
Tyler.
Tyler says, "Did you really think that would work? Tied it up in your head with a little bow, metaphorical gravestone marked with my name?"
Tyler says, "Didn't think you had it in you, psycho boy."
I stumble. I fall onto the ground and my head should ricochet and get scrambled like hens who've just met the fox. I fall on the ground, and my head falls into Tyler's lap. He looms over me, eyes crinkled like when he kissed me and introduced me to lye.
Tyler.
He cards his fingers through my hair. Supports my head with his palm. Turns it this way and that, tsking, humming.
Tyler says, "You did quite the number on yourself, psycho boy."
It feels like he could crack my skull open, pour out the contents like it's egg drop soup. There is sweetness to how he handles me.
"I told you," he says. "We won't really die."
Did Tyler move the tip of the gun? Did Tyler save my life?
"No. You fucked up killing yourself all on your own," Tyler says.
I wasn't trying to kill myself. I wanted to kill Tyler.
"Same thing," Tyler says, and my eyes water.
He lets his fingers slip close to the mangled chops of my cheeks. It is something that should probably hurt, but when he sticks his fingers in my face, I feel nothing. I can't tell if it's because it's not real and I don't have the energy for Tyler to use my hands, or if it's because my pain has become the ultimate white ball of healing light.
Two of his fingers slip into the gash of my old scar. It's been open since I learned about Patrick Madden. He fingers my mouth, traces the bitten chunk of my tongue. Tyler chides me. How could I ever expect fight club to release me from myself, now? It loves us too much.
"Not just Tyler Durden," he says.
Tyler says, "You might be my shadow, but they love you, too. They see you."
Be still my beating heart.
Why paraffin, Tyler?
Why not blow up the building. Doesn't this mean anything?
I thought it was my secret will to live. Tyler had come to me, perfectly handsome and an angel in his everything-blond way. My will to live tried to commit suicide, sure, but maybe he didn't. Did Tyler add the paraffin, just like how he tipped the gun?
"I told you," Tyler says. "I didn't tip the gun."
I didn't though. I wanted to die.
Why paraffin?
Tyler says, "Look at what you are now. What you've come to accept. In the best operas, the best stories, you don't really die. You learn a lesson. You up the stakes."
He pulls at my newest wound, stretching the skin tight. It gushes blood direct into my throat. Tyler opens me like a chip bag, and now I have no corners to my mouth but the ones all the way back at my ears. I've got four nice chops, ready to be pared.
Dragon of avarice.
Rough cut of beef. Pork. Good enough for stew, maybe.
I can hear the police helicopters, closer, closer. The impending doom of my discovered resurrection.
Tyler says, "You've been here since the start. I wouldn't be here in the first place if you didn't want me."
Trying to kill myself would never kill Tyler. I love him too much. It's the experience of being me I want to let go of. I stopped wanting to wake up.
That means I'm the hallucination.
Tyler says, "Think of it as metamorphosis."
Tyler is a sculptor. Carver. He is slicing the unneeded and unwanted parts of me away. This is just the largest cut of his knife. I think of little soap bears made by Boy Scouts. I am his self portrait.
Tyler says, "This is only the first step."
The helicopters land. There's stitches on every single officer.
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daycourtofficial · 3 months
Text
On Bended Knee
Summary: Nesta catches you touching yourself, a clear violation of the rules from her and Cassian. The two decide to punish you in the best way they can.
Author’s note; this is pure filth. Smut with no plot. This won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but dammit there’s not much out there with Nessian and reader.
Warnings: spanking, degradation, voyeurismish, bondage, toys, hair pulling, Nesta and Cassian being mean as hell, face sitting, minors DNI
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“Cassian, look who I caught.”
Nesta’s fingers held onto your hair as she dragged you into your shared bedroom with her and Cassian. Her fingers grab your jaw, forcing you to look at him as she says, “tell him what you did.”
You start shaking in fear, and maybe some excitement, as you tell him, “I was touching myself.”
Cassian’s eyes darken, his immediate scent of arousal coating the room. He looks at Nesta, who looks every part the predator she makes herself out to be.
“You know you’re not supposed to do that.” Cassian’s tone is stern, the counterpart to Nesta’s icy tone. He walks towards you, his wings flaring behind him.
Nesta drags you by your hair to the couch, handing you off to Cassian as she situates herself. Cassian holds you firmly in his arms, no chance of you moving, much less wiggling out of his arms.
“Bring her here,” Nesta tells Cassian, completely overlooking you as if you were merely an object. Nesta sprawls you over her lap, face down into the couch. She shifts your nightgown up to your waist, exposing you to the cool air. She hadn’t allowed you to put your panties back on after she caught you. She grabs your hands, placing them behind your back and holding them there in a firm grip.
“Hand or paddle, Cass?”
Cassian thinks about it, ignoring your soft gasp. You know arguing will get you in worse trouble, so you stay quiet. “Hand - I like seeing your hand prints on her ass.”
You whine and start wiggling your hips to try to break free, but Nesta shuts you up by pulling your hair and forcing your head up to look at her.
“You will get 10. You will count them out loud, and if you miss one or stutter, we start again.”
At your lack of response, she asks, “do you understand?”
You nod, but that further sparks the fire in her eyes. “Did you forget how to use your words?”
“Yes mistress-ah!” you shriek, as Cassian chuckles on the other side of you. Nesta likes to inflict punishment when you least expect it, leading you to call out a meek, “one.”
Cassian watches as Nesta continues to land blow after blow on your behind, your skin becoming a harsh shade of red. After the fifth hit, Nesta grabs both of your cheeks, rubbing the pain in. She asks you, “do you have anything to say, dove?”
You hide your face in shame in the couch as you tell her, “I was bad - I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched myself without permission.”
Cassian’s fingers graze your chin, bringing your head up. He looks at you with sympathy, and you begin to think he might tell Nesta to lighten up, until his face reaches yours and he licks up the tears streaming down your cheeks.
“Bad girls don’t get sympathy,” he tells you, practically laughing in your face at the situation you’ve brought upon yourself.
Nesta lands three more blows while you keep track of the tally vocally. As you’re reaching the eighth strike, you haven’t paid any attention to Cassian, which is why you didn’t notice Cassian taking his pants off until you feel his hands gently grab your chin, raising it up to meet his hard cock mere inches from your face.
“Nine,” you call out, Nesta’s hand making contact with your skin. One more, you tell yourself, you can do one more.
As Nesta pulls her hand back to land the final smack of your punishment, Cassian grabs the back of your head, shoving his cock into your mouth. Nesta hits you, causing pain to coarse through your body.
You want to tell her “ten”, having finished this punishment, but Cassian’s grip on your head is unrelenting as he holds you to his cock.
You try to mumble the number out, but nothing tangible comes out. Nesta chuckles darkly. “Did our dumb whore forget how to count?”
You wiggle, trying to convey how you feel about them tag teaming on you like this, but your movement just earns you another quick swat to your butt.
“Poor dove,” Nesta coos, her fingers caressing your soon to be bruised skin, “so needy for us she can’t remember how to count.”
She drags her nails up your thighs, and you want her to touch you so badly. She drags a finger up your slick heat, grabbing your juices as she goes and you moan at the feeling.
“Poor needy baby,” she coos, licking your arousal off of her finger. You moan onto Cassian’s cock as he keeps driving himself further and further into you, his cock reaching your throat.
Nesta shares a look with Cassian as she grabs the paddle from the table. “Be a good girl and count properly this time, or you’ll face a new punishment.”
Your eyes widen as the paddle makes contact, and Cassian fists your hair in his hand as he pulls your head off his cock so you can yell out, “one!”
This goes on - Cassian putting your mouth back on his cock until you have to call out the number. You’ve finished saying “nine”, and Cassian puts your mouth back on his cock, but Nesta doesn’t strike again. Instead Cassian begins thrusting faster and harder into your mouth. You’re choking on him, spit drooling out of your mouth as you can feel him getting closer. He taps your chin, prompting you to look up at him.
“Don’t. Swallow,” he commands, as he finishes into your mouth, his hot semen filling your mouth. He pulls himself out, making sure you don’t swallow, as Nesta swiftly spanks you again, tears streaming down your face.
You look in fear to Cassian, who gives you a challenging look right back that tells you decide who to disobey. Sometimes Cassian and Nesta would both become territorial and want to be the more dominant in the relationship, often putting you in the middle, forcing you to pick whose punishment you’d take.
Nesta grabs the back of your head, yanking it up to look at her, your mouth closed tightly to not spill any of Cassian’s cum, eyes wide with fear.
“What number was that, dove?”
Your eyes widen as she strikes you again, but you remain silent. Nesta chuckles, abandoning the paddle, pushing you off of her lap. You fall to the floor and Cassian whispers behind you, “you can swallow now, sweetheart,” as he chuckles. You do so, trying to avoid the wrath of both of them at once.
“Crawl to me,” she tells you, and you oblige, your hands and knees crawling over the cold floor. When you reach her, she tells you to sit right in front of her.
“Good dove,” she tells you, patting your head. You nuzzle into the touch, taking what soft touches you can get when she’s like this. She nods to Cassian, who picks you up and throws you onto the bed, pushing your back against the headboard. He yanks your nightgown off, leaving you completely exposed to the chill in the room.
You start to object, to ask what is happening, but Cassian reacts faster and makes quick work of tying your hands to the headboard. He makes you sit up, your legs underneath you but your torso straight. You try to thrash around, but Cassian’s knots keep you tied in place, leaving you vulnerable to the other predator in the room. She slowly walks around the bed, grabbing something from her nightstand before turning to you.
She grips your face in her hands as she tells you, “what were you thinking about when I caught you touching yourself?”
Cheeks flare red as you tell her, “the two of you.”
Her grin turns feral, “and what were we doing?”
You look down, shame and embarassment coursing through you as you tell her, “you were riding him. I caught the two of you this morning and it made me aroused and it wouldn’t go away..”
She looks pleased with your answer, and before you can enjoy the moment, she slips her panties off from under dress and before you can process it, she’s stuffing them into your mouth, her sweet flavor coating your tongue.
Silver eyes meet your own, amusement in her gaze as she pulls her hand up. “Still one more surprise for my little dove,” she tells you, the toy catching the light. You realize you’re in the perfect position for her to place it in you, and she does exactly that, a wicked gleam in her eyes as your eyes roll back at it going inside of you.
“Now,” she tells you, pulling her dress off, “if you wanted to think about it, we might as well put on a show for you.”
She presses herself down onto Cassian’s cock, a moan eliciting from all three of you. She begins bouncing up and down on his cock, and you start bouncing yourself without realizing it.
She undoes the braid in her hair, letting her long blonde hair flow down her back as her hands reach up and use Cassian’s chest to stabilize herself. You just want to run your own hands through her long locks, earning her affections.
The toy is staying nestled inside of you, not allowing you to use it to simulate what Nesta and Cassian are doing in front of you. Cassian laughs, his wings splayed behind him the bed. They’re right in front of you, the peak of Cassian’s wings a foot or two away from your knees. Nesta is making eye contact with you the entire time she rides Cassian, an amused gleam in her eyes.
“You could have been right here with us, you know,” she tells you, amusement on her face as you try to talk through the gag.
This was the worst punishment you’ve ever received, and you don’t see an end in sight.
She turns her gaze onto Cassian, whose eyes are black with lust and need for both of his mates. The scent of arousal from all three of you is heavy in the air, a musky scent that he adores.
“Should we make her watch us finish like this?” Nesta asks Cassian, going back to pretending like you’re not there.
Cassian tilts his head back to look at you, tied to the headboard, a toy nestled in your cunt, arousal dripping down your thighs.
He chuckles at the sight, “yes.”
You look up at the ceiling, unsure of how long your torture will remain, when Nesta starts picking up speed, bouncing up and down on Cassian’s cock.
The two of them are putting on a show, their moans echoing through the room. Cassian looks back to Nesta, putting his face in between her breasts, his hands roaming them.
“You know Cass,” Nesta says, her words breathy, “I caught her pretty quickly, probably only a minute or two after she started touching herself.”
She licks a stripe up Cassian’s throat, staring straight at you.
“I waited until she got close to come in and make her stop.”
You whine, her words getting you so close.
You can tell they’re close too, and you keep thrusting onto the toy, when Nesta’s long fingers reach towards you and pull it out of you right before you finish.
“Agh!” You muffle through the gag, and Nesta actually laughs.
“Cassian, look at our needy whore.”
Cassian tips his head back, getting a full view of your wet cunt that you’re still thrusting into the air. Both of their gazes watch you in hunger, wanting to utterly devour you.
“I love it when she misbehaves.”
Cassian and Nesta share a look, and Cassian holds onto Nesta as he moves up the bed to have his face directly underneath you. His breath fans your pussy, and your back arches with desperate need at the proximity.
“You may sit, dove.”
You sit down on Cassian’s face, his nose dragging through your folds. Nesta leans forward, her hands moving from Cassian’s chest to yours. Her fingers graze your breasts, focusing in your nipples. You moan as she pinches them.
Cassian continues thrusting deep into Nesta as you feel his tongue around your clit. He gently nips it with his teeth, causing you to gasp.
Cassian’s tongue causes you to come completely undone, finishing on his tongue, your breathing ragged. Cassian’s tongue continues at a tortuous pace, and not long afterward Nesta finishes.
Nesta pulls herself off of Cassian, quickly moving to undo your restraints. You start to thank her, but she makes quick work of binding your hands behind your back instead.
She smirks, watching as Cassian grabs you, hauling your soaking cunt right onto his hard cock. He slams into you, not giving you any chance to get used to the fill of him.
Cassian’s hands are all over you as Nesta holds you up by your hair, making you ride Cassian.
“Oh, you thought we were done just because you came?” You nodded your head.
“No, dove. We have a whole night in store for you. We just wanted to be nice and let you finish now.”
She laughs as Cassian’s thrusts get harder and faster, spilling himself inside of you. You pant, continuing to thrust on him until Nesta pulls you off his cock.
“See, dove, this is the plan for tonight,” she says, pushing you down so your head is on the pillow.
“You’re our little toy to play with as we please.”
She starts lowering her slick, wet heat onto your face, and you involuntarily moan.
“And we want to cover you in ourselves.”
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mysuperiors · 5 days
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When you arrived at the hotel room to meet your master for the first time in person, he told you to get undressed down to your t-shirt and underwear and socks.
He told you to kneel on the floor. He bound your hands tightly behind your back with rope. He then told you how the session would go.
“First, I’m going to rape your wallet in front of you. Then I am going to humiliate you and break down any sense of dignity you have. Then I am going to inflict pain. You are permitted to cry during that part, but you have to keep your voice down. The pain may be severe at times, but there will not be any blood. After the pain comes my pleasure. I will either fuck you in the mouth or the ass, depending on what I’m feeling like at that point. Then you will get the ultimate reward for your service at the end. We will take a shower and you will be permitted to wash my body. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” you whispered.
He then took your wallet out of your pants. He took out a Visa card and held it up to your face and asked you, “Who does this belong to?”
“You, Sir.”
“That’s right.” He took out his phone and showed you that he was opening the Uber app and adding the credit card to it.
He took out your AMEX and pressed it hard against your forehead. “Who does this belong to?”
“You, Sir.”
He spent a couple minutes on his phone. You watched his muscular forearms as he was tapping away. He showed you the screen. Two round-trip business class flights to Greece and a stay at a luxury hotel in Mykonos. “I’m going to fuck my girlfriend every night and you’re paying. The total is over $15,000.”
This made you anxious and you started to well up with tears.
“I did not give you permission to cry while I rape your wallet,” your Master warned ominously.
“Yes, Sir. I apologize, Master. Thank you for using my credit card for your pleasure.”
He smirked and took the cash out of your wallet. “Who does this belong to?”
“You, Sir.”
He laughed and stepped over to you, his muscular body towering over you. “Open your mouth, slave.”
You did as he commanded, and he shoved the cash in your mouth. “Do not forget. I am your owner, and not your whore. You have no control here. I am in total control of you. You are nothing but a faggot slave. The only reason you exist is to amuse me and serve me and to earn money for me. You are property. MY property.”
He gave you a little slap on the cheek. Not so hard as to be painful. But also not playful. It was a bullying sort of slap. A dressing down. He grabbed your hair and pushed your face down to the floor. “Kiss my shoes. Lick them clean. While you do that, I’m going to buy myself a new pair.”
Once he bought his new Nike runners he showed you the screen—another $300 was gone—he took a couple gift cards from your wallet and pocketed them and tossed the wallet on the floor.
He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off and laid it on one of the two double beds in the room. His enormous, smooth muscular torso looked incredible. He cracked his knuckles and stood you up.
“I am ready to move onto the pain portion. Remember, you have permission to cry...”
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