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#but on the other hand this leaves you with an overwhelming sense of grief
amalythea · 1 month
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「 hold my hand, please, one last time.」
⤷ info: kazuha, albedo, aether, xiao, wanderer x gn!reader || angst, this is based on the prompt “can i hold your hand?” (or “can you hold my hand?”) || wc: 3104
⤷ warnings: death, this is v v angsty
⤷ extra: i wrote this a while ago back on soleillunne and decided that it was too good to be gone forever lmao
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kazuha.
The battlefield was strewn with chaos, and amidst the clash of swords and the cries of war, Kazuha fought with all his might, his heart burdened with the weight of the lives at stake. He had hoped that his skills with the blade and mastery of the Anemo vision would be enough to protect those he held dear, but fate had other plans.
As the battle raged on, he caught a glimpse of his lover, a skilled warrior whose presence had always brought him comfort and strength, you. Your eyes met for a fleeting moment, and in that exchange, you understood each other without uttering a word. It was a silent promise that you would find each other amidst the chaos.
But the tide turned against you, and the enemy’s forces seemed endless. Despite your best efforts, the defenders were overwhelmed, and Kazuha found himself standing back-to-back with you, defending against the onslaught.
In the midst of the chaos, an arrow found its mark. Time seemed to slow as the arrow pierced through your chest, and the world around you faded into the background. Kazuha’s heart clenched in horror as he caught you, your strength waning with each passing moment.
“Kazuha,” you gasped, blood staining your lips. “Can I hold your hand?”
Tears welled up in Kazuha’s eyes as he clutched your hand tightly, trying to offer some semblance of comfort amidst the pain. “Yes, of course,” he choked out, his voice trembling with grief.
Your hand trembled in his grasp, and Kazuha could feel your life slipping away like sand through his fingers. He could do nothing but watch helplessly as the light in your eyes began to fade. You smiled weakly at him, a bittersweet expression filled with love and regret.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sounds of battle. “I wish… we had more time.”
“Don’t speak like that,” Kazuha pleaded, his voice breaking. “We’ll get through this. I won’t let you go.”
But you knew better, and as your strength waned, you continued to smile at him, your touch growing weaker by the second.
“I love you,” you murmured, your breath becoming shallow. “Always…”
Tears streamed down Kazuha’s cheeks as he held you close, trying to shield you from the harsh reality of the world around you. He wished he could turn back time, rewrite the events that led to this tragic moment, but life was unforgiving in its cruelty.
Your hand in his grew colder, and your breathing ceased. Your life force, once vibrant and strong, slipped away, leaving behind only a lifeless body in Kazuha’s arms.
Kazuha held your hand tightly, unable to let go, as if keeping that connection alive could somehow bring you back. He cried out in anguish, the weight of grief crashing down upon him like an unforgiving storm.
In that moment, amidst the chaos of the battlefield, Kazuha felt an emptiness he had never known before. He had lost not only a lover but a confidant, a soulmate with whom he had shared dreams, laughter, and countless cherished memories.
And as the battle raged on, Kazuha clung to your lifeless hand, lost in sorrow, with a heart that would forever bear the burden of their memory.
albedo.
Albedo’s heart pounded in his chest as he cradled his you in his arms. He was just about to descend from his lab on Dragonspine to meet up with you as he promised, only to see you laying on your own blood at the bottom of the mountain. He had seen you only hours prior, he’d laughed with you, but now, all that remained was a sea of sorrow, the bitter taste of loss overwhelming his senses.
He looked down at the face that he had cherished so dearly, now drained of all warmth and life. Your eyes, once filled with light and love, now stared back at him with a haunting emptiness. Albedo’s hands trembled, and tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision.
“Can you hold my hand?” a weak voice whispered, barely audible amidst the sounds of grief and despair that surrounded them. Albedo’s heart wrenched at the sound, and he quickly took your freezing hand into his own.
Tears streamed down Albedo’s cheeks as he clutched your hand tightly. “Yes, of course,” he choked out, his voice breaking with pain. “I’ll hold your hand for as long as you need, my love.”
He brought your intertwined hands to his lips and placed a tender kiss on the once-warm skin, now cold and lifeless. Memories of your time together flooded his mind – the laughter you shared, the dreams you nurtured, and the love you built with each passing day. Now, all that was left were shattered hopes and dreams.
“I’m so sorry,” Albedo whispered, his voice filled with regret and guilt. “I couldn’t protect you. I failed.”
You weakly shook your head, mustering a faint smile. “No, don’t blame yourself,” you managed to say. “You… you brought me so much happiness, Albedo. Please, don’t forget that.”
Albedo’s heart ached at the words, realizing that he had to find the strength to carry on without you. But it felt like an impossible task, as if the very essence of his being had been torn apart.
“I don’t know if I can,” he confessed, his voice trembling with sorrow. “You’re my everything.”
You fingers tightened around his hand as if trying to hold on just a little longer. “You’re strong, Albedo. Stronger than you know,” you said, your voice barely audible. “Promise me… you’ll keep going… for both of us.”
Albedo nodded, his tears falling freely now. “I promise,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ll live for the both of us. But it won’t be the same without you.”
Your breaths became shallower, and Albedo knew that your life was slipping away. He leaned closer, trying to memorize every detail of your face, never wanting to forget.
“I love you,” you whispered, your words fading like a gentle breeze. “Always.”
“I love you too,” Albedo replied, his voice choked with emotion. “Always and forever.”
And with those final words, your grip on his hand slowly weakened until it was gone completely. Albedo held onto your hand a moment longer, pressing it against his heart as if trying to keep your love alive within him.
As grief consumed him, Albedo felt a mix of emotions. Sorrow, anger, and a deep longing to see his lover again, even if it were just for a moment. But he knew he had to continue, to honor your memory and the love you shared.
Albedo gently laid your body down, closing your eyes with tender care. He stood, feeling the weight of loss heavy on his shoulders, but also the weight of your love, and your belief in him, pushing him forward. Though his heart was shattered, he would carry your love with him, always.
And as he walked away from that place of sorrow, he knew that the pain would remain, but so would the memories of a love that would never truly fade away.
aether.
Aether’s heart pounded in his chest as he cradled his dying lover in his arms. The battlefield around them had turned into a chaotic canvas of destruction, but his attention was solely focused on the person he held dear. You were slipping away, and he could feel your life force fading like a waning star.
“Can you hold my hand?” you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the cacophony of war. Aether’s eyes filled with tears, and he gently clasped your frail hand in his own, interlocking your fingers. His touch was warm, providing a sense of comfort amidst the pain.
“I’m here,” he choked out, his voice trembling. “I won’t let go.”
Your breathing was shallow, and your once-bright eyes were now dim, but you managed a faint smile. It was a bittersweet expression, as if you were trying to convey so much in that fleeting moment. Memories of you flooded Aether’s mind, from the first time you met under the starlit sky to the promises you made to each other.
“You have to promise me,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “that you’ll keep going. That you’ll find happiness again.”
Aether couldn’t find the strength to respond, his throat constricted with grief. He knew that in a world without his lover, life would lose its luster, its purpose. But he understood that you were trying to ease his pain, even in your last breaths.
“No,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks, “I can’t bear to live without you. Please don’t leave. Not you too.”
You smiled again, a mixture of sadness and love in your eyes. “You are strong, Aether, and you will find the strength to carry on. I will always be with you.”
Aether’s heartache intensified, and he leaned down to press his forehead against yours. He wished he could freeze time, to hold you forever, but he knew it was slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers.
“I love you,” you said, their voice fading into a whisper.
“And I love you,” Aether replied, his voice breaking.
Your grip on his hand loosened, and Aether felt the last pulse of life slip away from you. He held onto your hand a moment longer, not wanting to let go, but eventually, he lowered it gently to your chest.
In that moment, as the world around him continued to rage with chaos, Aether felt an overwhelming emptiness inside. His lover was gone, and the pain of your absence consumed him. But he knew he had to honor your last wish—to find a way to live without you, to keep your love alive in his heart.
With tears in his eyes, Aether kissed your forehead one last time before he stood, facing the uncertain future that lay ahead. Your love would forever be his guiding light, and he would cherish every memory, every moment you had shared.
And as the battles raged on and the world continued to turn, Aether vowed to carry your love with him, a beacon of hope in the darkest of times. Though your physical presence was gone, your love would endure, a reminder that even in the face of loss, the power of love could transcend beyond the boundaries of life and death.
heizou.
Heizou knelt on the cold, damp ground, cradling your cold body in his arms. He had just returned home from work, when the last thing he expected to see was see you laying on your own blood in your shared home. He held you closer, your blood staining his hands, mingling with his own tears. His heart felt as though it had been torn apart, and the pain was almost unbearable.
The world seemed to slow down as Heizou stared into the fading eyes of his beloved. Each second felt like an eternity, and yet, it was slipping away all too quickly. He could see the struggle in your gaze, the effort it took to speak those final words.
“Can I hold your hand?” you whispered, your voice getting lower with each word.
Tears streamed down Heizou’s face, and he gently clasped your trembling hand with his own, intertwining your fingers. He felt your warmth slowly waning, and he held on tighter, as if he could somehow will life back into you with the strength of his grip.
“You don’t have to ask,” Heizou choked out, his voice breaking with sorrow. “I’ll hold your hand forever.”
You managed a faint smile, your strength visibly waning. “I… I love you,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I love you too,” Heizou replied, his voice trembling. “You’re my everything, my reason for living.”
As the commotion outside your shared home began to get louder, the people having noticed the blood stains, Heizou’s focus remained solely on you. The world outside ceased to exist for him, and he poured all his love and energy into holding you, trying to be your anchor in this storm of pain and suffering.
In your last moments, you clung to each other tightly, as if afraid to let go. Heizou’s heart ached as he felt your life slipping away from him, the person who meant more to him than anything else in the world. He wished he could have done something, anything, to save you.
But in the end, all he could do was be there, holding your hand, providing them with comfort in their final moments. Heizou would carry the weight of this loss forever, the memories of you etched into his soul.
Even as people left you two alone and the world moved on, Heizou remained on that cold, damp ground, cradling the body of the one he had loved and lost, his heart forever scarred by the pain of that fateful day.
xiao.
Xiao knelt on the damp ground, his heart pounding with anguish as he cradled your shaking form in his arms. The battlefield around you was silent, the chaos of the battle having retreated, leaving behind only the echoes of suffering and loss.
Your once bright eyes, now dulled by death, stared up at him, and Xiao couldn’t bear to look away. Your hands, once intertwined in a promise of eternity, now lay limp and still. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.
“Can you hold my hand?” your voice was a faint whisper, barely audible amidst the devastation surrounding them.
Xiao’s heart shattered at those words, but he gently took your hand in his own, holding it with all the tenderness and love he had for you. “I will always hold your hand,” he choked out, his voice breaking with grief.
You managed a weak smile, the corners of your lips lifting slightly. “Even in death,” you murmured, your voice barely reaching Xiao’s ears.
“I’ll follow you anywhere, my love,” Xiao vowed, his fingers trembling as he clung tightly to the hand that was growing colder by the second. “Even to the ends of this cruel world.”
Your breathing grew fainter, and your grip on his hand loosened. Xiao felt his heartache intensify, knowing that he couldn’t change the cruel fate that had befallen you.
“Thank you… for loving me,” you whispered, your voice a mere thread of sound.
“Thank you for making my life meaningful,” Xiao replied, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m grateful for every moment we shared.”
Your eyes locked for a final time, and in that fleeting moment, a lifetime of love and memories passed between you. Xiao wished he could freeze time, to hold on to this moment forever, but life had other plans.
As the last breath left your lips, Xiao leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Rest now,” he whispered, his voice breaking with sorrow. “I’ll carry you in my heart. Until we meet again.”
He remained there, holding your lifeless hand, as tears streamed down his cheeks, mingling with the blood-stained soil beneath you. Xiao knew that a part of him had died that day with his beloved, but he also knew that your love would live on, eternal and undying, no matter the circumstances.
wanderer.
Wanderer knelt on the ground, his heart pounding in his chest as he cradled you in his arms. The world around you seemed to blur, the noise of battle fading into an eerie silence. The battle had been brutal, and he had fought with all his might to protect the one he loved, but fate had dealt them a cruel hand.
Your once vibrant eyes now glistened with pain, and a weak smile graced your lips. Blood stained your clothing, and Wanderer could feel your life slipping away.
“Hey,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t have much time, do I?”
Wanderer choked back a sob, clutching your body tightly. “Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine. We’ll get you help.”
A soft chuckle escaped your lips, but it quickly turned into a cough. “You can’t lie to me, my love.” you managed to say, your breath shallow.
Tears finally streamed down Wanderer’s face as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry if I didn’t say it often. I can’t bear to lose you.”
You trembled in his grasp, and gazed into his eyes with a mixture of love and sadness. “Can I hold your hand?” you asked, your voice barely audible.
Wanderer nodded frantically, intertwining his fingers with yours. He held your hand close to his heart, hoping that somehow he could transfer strength to you.
“I’m scared,” you admitted, tears pooling in your eyes. “I don’t want to leave you.”
He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and full of affection, reserved only for you. “You won’t have to. Just hold on a little longer, and we’ll get you help. We’ll face this together.”
Your grip tightened weakly on his hand. “You’re my light, my love, my everything,” you murmured. “You always have been. Promise me you’ll keep shining, even when I’m gone.”
Wanderer could feel whatever was left of his heart shatter with your words. “I promise,” he choked out. “But you can’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.”
Your breathing grew shallower, and your voice became softer. “You’re strong, my love,” you said. “You’ll find a way. Remember me, but don’t let my memory hold you back. Live your life to the fullest. Find happiness again.”
“I can’t imagine life without you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “How am I supposed to go on?”
Your only response was a brief smile, and he squeezed your cold hand tightly. “I’ll never let go,” he vowed. “Not even when you’re gone.”
Your breathing slowed, and your eyes locked with his one last time. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice fading away.
“I love you too,” he whispered back, his voice cracking.
And then, with your hand still clasped in his, you were gone.
Wanderer held your lifeless form closer, his tears falling like rain. He knew that life would never be the same again, that a piece of his heart had been taken with you. But he also knew that he had to keep the promise he made. With a heavy heart, he stood, carrying your memory with him as he faced the world without you, knowing that he would always carry your love and light with him.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.
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another-lost-mc · 1 year
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When MC Dies and is Reborn in the Celestial Realm Headcanons | THE DEMON BROTHERS 1.6k words | SFW | gn!Reader | Angst with a Happy Ending Content warnings: Implied Lucifer x Reader. Michael-centric POV. Mentions of (temporary) character death and grieving/mourning. A/N: This is an old piece that's been sitting in my Google docs for months. Without going into spoilers, playing Nightbringer last night reminded me of this.
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DEATH
The demon brothers are in the RAD student council chambers when they sense something is wrong.
They visibly flinch and some of them gasp as a sudden emptiness washes over them.
Asmo is the first to notice that your pact mark on the inside of his wrist starts to fade.
The other brothers are frantic and start to palm over their clothes where your pact marks with them should be, realizing theirs are disappearing too.
Lucifer’s eyes go wide with realization at the same moment his D.D.D. starts ringing with an incoming call from Solomon.
Barbatos senses the seriousness of the situation and is already conjuring a portal to Solomon’s location.
Lucifer is the first one to step through, with his brothers stumbling behind him.
They arrive in the human world and see Solomon leaning forward in a chair in a bright, sterile hallway, his head down and hair falling over his eyes. His D.D.D. is still clenched in his hands.
Solomon looks up with tears in his eyes and he whispers in a strangled voice, “I’m so sorry.”
Diavolo and Barbatos have to intervene before the power caused by the brothers’ overwhelming grief threatens to rip the human hospital apart.
The demon brothers don’t attend your funeral, but those responsible for carrying out your final wishes are surprised that all the expenses have been anonymously paid for. 
Solomon and the Angels watch nearby as your human friends and family circle your grave and pay their respects.
Simeon tried to prevent Luke from going with him, but he was forced to bring him after Luke begged Michael personally to let him say goodbye.
Simeon has to carry a sobbing Luke away when it’s time for them to leave, but Solomon stands by your graveside as the sun sets.
After night falls, the demon brothers materialize behind him and he teleports away so they can have privacy.
The demon brothers stand like fractured shadows around your final resting place, frozen and eerily silent, and they slowly return to the Devildom one by one. Lucifer is the last to leave, just before dawn.
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REBIRTH
Michael recognizes your soul the moment you’re reborn in the Celestial Realm as an angel nearly 10 years later.
You’re not an angel youngling like Luke; your body is eerily similar to your human form without the demon pact marks or the Sorcerer’s Society sigils etched into your skin.
He is alone with you and you look at him with uncertainty - you should be an empty shell, reborn with no memory or purpose except the Celestial Realm’s calling.
Curiosity prompts him to ask you your name, and you respond with the human name from your former life.
He realizes anything you do as an angel from this point forward will be tainted by the remnants of your former existence.
Michael takes a lot of risks as he bends and twists the limits of his power to allow you certain freedoms while he deliberates the best course of action.
You ask him oddly specific questions about the human world and the Devildom that a newborn angel shouldn’t be asking; you haven’t regained your entire memory, but he suspects it’s only a matter of time.
He promises himself that he will not lie to you even when you start asking more difficult questions, but he expects that will be easier said than done.
Your knowledge is lacking when it comes to the inner working and responsibilities of the Celestial Realm and he decides to tutor you personally.
He also makes a point to keep you separate from the other angels as much as possible, especially your former exchange student companions.
Simeon starts to suspect Michael is hiding something but he can’t figure out what.
Michael knows his threats don’t scare Simeon the way they do the other angels; he begs Simeon for his patience instead, which startles Simeon into reluctant agreement not to pry further into Michael’s noticeably withdrawn behaviour.
Michael finds you one night when you are thrashing in your sleep, and when he nudges your shoulder to wake you, you cling to him as you wail at the memory of your death.
After that night, the floodgates seem to burst and your other memories quickly return.
You pester Michael with endless questions about all the friends you left behind, specifically Lucifer and the other brothers.
Michael relents when you plead with him to tell you, even though he knows that it’s going to hurt you to learn the truth:
Your death triggered a lot of uncertainty and turmoil within the Devildom. Lucifer and his brothers became the worst versions of themselves as they struggled with their grief. Diavolo had to intervene with a firm hand to prevent them from completely undoing all the progress he made in uniting the three realms while you were alive.
Relations between the Devildom and the other realms became strained and uncertain.
Michael tells you that the exchange program had been suspended until recently, but the successful conclusion indicated that the Devildom had regained focus on continued peace and camaraderie with the Celestial Realm and human world.
You beg Michael to let you return to the Devildom, and he refuses.
You threaten to fall willingly if that’s what it takes, but he warns you that your circumstances are too volatile - he can’t predict what would happen to the ongoing stability of the three worlds if you should drift off this current path.
Despite his refusal to allow you to visit the Devildom, he sees how lost and broken you are.
He promises to come up with a way for you to eventually meet the demon brothers again.
You ask Michael if he thinks they still remember you, and he grudgingly admits that he thinks that they probably do.
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RETURN
In an unlikely request, Diavolo receives a proposal from Michael that would allow a Celestial Realm representative to live in the Devildom on a long-term basis.
Diavolo tentatively agrees, seeing the olive branch for what it is and knowing Michael wouldn’t make that offer lightly.
The demon brothers (except for Lucifer) want to protest on principle, assuming the worst about Michael and they don’t hide their suspicions from Diavolo or their eldest brother.
Lucifer makes it his responsibility to bring his brothers in line so that Diavolo’s goals can be achieved, even though he is just as bothered by the idea as his brothers are.
Solomon is summoned to the Devildom, a rare occurrence these days. He agrees to Diavolo and Michael’s request to host their negotiations in the human world as a neutral party.
Diavolo insists the demon brothers attend as a sign of unity and good faith; they want to refuse, having avoided returning to the human world as much as possible since your passing, but finally concede after threats of punishment from Lucifer.
Michael feels overwhelming pity for his brothers when he sees them. He can see through their masks of indifference that your absence has haunted them, although he is surprised they truly cared about you that much.
As the meeting continues, Lucifer becomes increasingly annoyed by the sympathetic looks Michael gives him and his brothers from across the table.
When discussions are starting to wind down, Michael comments that you would be proud of the work the Devildom has achieved in your absence.
The unexpected mention of your name is like a trigger: Mammon pushes away from the table and paces behind his chair; Levi hugs his knees to his chest and buries his head; Asmo covers his mouth as he lets out a sob, eyes watering. Satan tries to rise from his seat with a growl, but Beel pushes him back down; and Belphie shoots him a murderous look.
Lucifer’s eyes narrow and he grits out that they wouldn’t dream of tarnishing your memory by failing to accomplish what you helped them work for.
Michael explains that he’s surprised an ordinary human could affect him this much.
Diavolo and Barbatos share a nervous look at the growing tension, and Solomon interrupts, proposing that they end the meeting for now.
Lucifer tells Michael to stop talking about things that he couldn’t possibly understand. He pulls out his D.D.D. and tells Diavolo that he and his brothers will be leaving if they’re no longer needed.
Michael asks him about the lizard charm swinging from his D.D.D., the plastic faded and worn down by time; he nods to himself when Lucifer’s only response is icy silence, like he expected nothing else.
Michael suggests that they take a moment to meet the proposed diplomat he’d like to assign to the Devildom, the sooner the better - he insists they’re very eager to begin their assignment.
Diavolo placates everyone by stating he trusts Michael’s judgement and meeting them now isn’t necessary.
Michael’s eyes twinkle with a strange mischief that Lucifer can’t explain.
After a moment, Lucifer hears the soft swish of feathers as someone materializes in an open doorway nearby.
He recognizes the familiar pair of eyes first, and they’re staring back at him with such so much longing and hope he can barely breathe .
Time seems to stand still for a moment as everyone in the room freezes with shared looks of disbelief, doubt, and shock.
When the spell is broken, it is with a flurry of activity: Lucifer moves first, launching himself across the room and pulling you into a tight embrace against his chest, your white feathers brushing against his black ones.
The other brothers quickly surround you, and you end up in a pile on the floor as the demons you missed so much whisper your name and touch your face as if they can't believe you've come back to them.
Barbatos and Solomon both watch in stunned silence, eager to know how these events unfolded but smart enough to know that those questions can wait for now.
Diavolo wipes a tear from his eye, chuckling happily as he and Michael stand and shake hands.
Michael watches with a mixture of envy and satisfaction when you return home with his fallen brothers.
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junkdrawerfics · 10 months
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Broken Pieces Put Back Together
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Jasper Whitlock X Reader
Summary: You get turned by Maria a short time after Jasper. Life in the coven is not what you expect though, as Maria quickly realizes you have a useful ability and you end up outliving the other newborns. At least you have Jasper, though. Until you don't.
Word Count: 3361
Warning: Depression, a short bit of suicidal thoughts, canonical violence. It gets rough in the middle y'all.
Lots of hurt but it has a happy ending, I promise.
---
You and Jasper were close to fast friends when you were forced to join Maria’s army. At first, you were terrified of the blond and his scar-ridden skin. Word reached you quickly of all he’d done, the countless lives he’d taken. How could you not be scared?
But then one night you found him on his own, standing outside the abandoned barn you called home, looking up at the stars with such a broken expression. That night, something drew you to his side. The urge to comfort, the need to ease his pain, was the first feeling to overcome the overwhelming sense of bloodlust constantly burning in your throat.
Not a single word was spoken that night. You didn’t know what to say, not to this man who had lived through so much more than you, and he didn’t offer anything in return. You both just stood there, still as statues, looking up at the stars.
That night you learned that Jasper Whitlock is not all that he appears to be.
It’s also the night Maria learned of your ability, and decided you might be of more value than she originally thought. You hadn’t even realized you were doing anything. In that moment, all you wanted was to keep him safe, hide him for just a little bit so he could breathe. And apparently you had done just that. You both disappeared, from everyone’s perception at least.
And so you lived. Outlived.
Your new reality was much crueler than you thought it could be. You realized that when your friend, a young girl changed the day after you, was deemed no longer useful.
That night, Jasper was the one who came to you.
“(Y/n).”
You don’t look away from the sky, the bleeding colors of the sunset dull in comparison to the flashing colors of fire behind your eyes. You can smell the smoke clinging to his clothes as he gets closer. It burns your nose, makes your chest ache as a fresh wave of pain sweeps through you.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” You ask quietly, voice like a broken set of bells.
Jasper sets his jaw, looking down at his hands. He nods slowly, an unfamiliar lump forming in his throat. He’s never felt guilty for following orders, he always thought it was for the best, that Maria knew better than the rest of them.
But then you look at him, your eyes swimming with tragedy, and it makes something inside of him ache. There’s no anger, no hatred, like he expected, just an ocean of grief.
 It clogs your throat, burns behind your eyes, leaves you shaking. You rest on the edge of tears, suffocating in that horrible, sinking feeling, but always unable to cry. And you hate it. You hate it. You hate it. It’s like walking a tightrope, always off balance, yet never falling.
But you shatter when a hand rests gently on your shoulder.
A dry, ugly sob breaks past your lips as you turn into Jasper’s body. He curls his arms around you wordlessly, wishing he could hold all your pieces together. And even though his hands are the ones that did it, even though you know he’ll have to do it again and again and again, you can’t help but soak up every ounce of comfort from his rare embrace.
Slowly the sadness lifts, until it's bearable, not crushing you but not completely gone. His ability. Usually you’d scold him, tell him your emotions are yours for a reason, but right now all you can do is hold onto him tighter.
He’s all you have left, now.
Something changed after that night. You and Jasper got even closer. He protected you and was your rock when Maria turned your ability into a weapon. And on nights when she would go hunting alone, the two of you would perch on the roof of the barn and just look at the stars, talking about anything and everything. 
You loved hearing stories of his human life. He would tell you about his time in the army, about the pressure he faced to join when he got old enough. His family didn’t have much, especially after the war started. You could tell he loved them, just by the soft smile he would get any time he talked about them.
You would take turns sharing stories. You told him about your siblings and their mischievous games. You were the oldest, so it often rested on you to watch over them, which usually ended with you covering up their shenanigans. You loved it though, taking care of them, teaching them.
That urge was still somewhere deep inside you, a motherly instinct you can’t quite shake. It made it all the more difficult to distance yourself from the fresh newborns in the coven. Before, you would take them in, calm them down, make sure they had something to drink to ease the pain of their thirst.
You couldn’t experience that again, though. That loss. So you kept your distance, spending most of your time with Jasper anyways. The man’s threatening aura kept most of them away. 
Except one. 
A newborn, a little too confident, a little too high on his new strength, decided he just couldn’t leave you alone. For the most part, you ignored him. In your human life, you dealt with more than enough  unwanted attention, so you thought you were used to it. He was as stubborn as he was arrogant though.
Until Jasper nearly killed him for making a move on you (a little too aggressively).
Luckily Maria wasn’t there for that.
“Are you alright?” Jasper ushers you outside, red eyes frantically scanning over you, as if you could be battered and bruised. 
“I’m fine, Jas,” you breathe, brushing the dust from your pants, “I’m more worried about that guy you just ripped the arm off of.”
“I should’ve killed him for touchin’ you.”
You glance at him, amusement quickly replacing the mild panic that filled you the moment that man laid his hands on you, “You know you wouldn’t. Maria would get angry if you did that.”
Jasper’s lips draw into a thin line. It shouldn’t matter. You’re the only one who treats him like he’s still human, his only friend. He wants to say that he will always protect you, even if he has to fight Maria herself. But the words don’t come. Deep down, a part of him knows they aren’t true, and that leaves behind a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Don’t look like that.” He blinks when you touch his cheek, your fingers soft and light, unlike Maria’s. You smile at him, just as gently, voice resigned, “I know how you think, Jasper Hale. You’re a loyal man, and that’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
As you say it, a sadness wraps around you, one that Jasper doesn’t understand. It doesn’t match your smile, or the soft creasing of your eyes as you look up at him. Why does it make you so sad?
You don’t let the feeling linger though, reigning it in the moment you notice the slight furrow of his brow he sometimes gets when he is trying to focus on your emotions. You don’t need him figuring out why. Why his loyalty to Maria makes your chest ache so painfully.
Falling in love with Jasper Hale was as easy as breathing, which says something considering you don’t even need to. Behind the tough, military face of his, was a man who was charismatic and gentle, who liked to laugh and remembered the name of every horse he’d ever ridden. 
He was loyal to a fault.
That’s why he could not see Maria’s true nature for the longest time. It became clear to you rather quickly once you got closer with Jasper. Close enough that she took notice. Close enough that she decided to do something about it.
It started with small things.
Whenever you would go to talk to Jasper, she would call him over for something unimportant.
She started sending you on little tasks, just to keep you out of the barn.
Even on the days she would go hunting, the days you looked forward to most because you and Jasper could be completely alone, she started taking Jasper with her.
And each time, she would give you one of those vicious smiles. Like she won. It did not take long to realize it was all on purpose. In her own way, she was telling you loud and clear that she wanted you nowhere near Jasper and anytime you tried, she’d be there to show you just how little you mattered.
What hurt most, though, was how Jasper always listened to her. Every time, he would follow after her like a good soldier, casting you a guilty look over his shoulder. You didn’t blame him though. You couldn’t. Not when you knew the alternative.
So you got used to being alone for the first time in your life. The sadness, the one that Jasper kept at bay all that time, slowly crept back in, filling every nook and cranny of your being. Day after day, it got harder to stay, to listen to Maria’s direction. Even when you did listen, she treated you like a pest, contempt burning in her eyes. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to leave though. The thought alone made your heart ache, because that would mean leaving Jasper. No amount of distance could dampen those feelings that came so quickly. They were branded in your heart, a part of you now and probably forever. A simple look from him and you would resign yourself all over again to stay. 
Even if it got you killed.
Some days were too hard though, watching him follow on Maria’s heel, doing all she asked. It had been months since you talked, actually talked. Months since you heard him laugh or felt the comfort of his touch, no matter how small it was. And it hurt.
The pain made it hard to drink. You’d go weeks without blood, finding the burn of the hunger was better than the empty feeling in your chest. It made you weak, your skin turning almost translucent, the circles under your eyes growing darker and darker.
Jasper hated it. He had to watch as you fell into depression, your emotions like a dark cloud around you, so strong even the newborns walked on eggshells around you. He hated it, yet he could never do anything about it.
He wasn’t as oblivious as you thought him to be. He was aware of Maria’s resentment towards you. Jasper knew that if he showed his concern, even an inkling of it, she would lash out at you. At least by her side, he could temper her emotions and protect you.
His efforts could only go so far, though.
As you grew weaker, your ability weakened as well. And Maria noticed.
You wanted her to notice. 
Leaving wasn’t an option, but the pain of staying was becoming too much for you to bear. Death seemed like the only way out of this eternally lonely existence. You just hoped Jasper wouldn’t have to be the one to do it.
Maria never liked the easy way, though. Loyalty must be proven.
You felt it as soon as you stepped foot outside the barn one night. The air was warm and dark clouds covered the sky, blocking out any light. Something sank in your gut and you just knew.
If you were going to die, you were at least going to die somewhere you could be surrounded by good memories. So you trekked to the hill where you first stood with Jasper, the one where you spent many nights watching the stars, and that’s exactly where he found you.
You perch yourself on a rock, watching as lightning flashes in the clouds. The air is heavy with static, but not a single drop of rain falls. It’s like the world can’t decide how it feels, a mess of storms not ready to break, but needing to, the tension rising and rising. Until something gives.
You hear Jasper before you see him. His steps are uncharacteristically heavy, the brush whispering as he walks through it. The air grows impossibly heavier when he comes to an abrupt stop just feet away from you.
It’ll be quick, you think. You hardly have the strength to keep yourself upright, the burning in your throat like hot coals. With what energy you have left, you keep your chin up and slowly turn your gaze away from the clouds to the man behind you.
And you smile. Because it’s Jasper. Your Jasper. Looking just as broken as the first night you stood by him. 
Jasper’s knees practically buckle when you look at him, a wave of fondness warming the air around you. How can you still feel such a thing for him? After all he has done. You must know why he’s here. He doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve the trust in your eyes.
“Don’t look like that,” you murmur, smile going sad. You can’t stand the guilt twisting those features you love so much. 
Jasper shakes his head, teeth gritting together so hard, his jaw creaks. He doesn’t want this. He can’t. Not with you looking at him like he’s hung the moon. No fear, no hatred. You should despise him.
“It’s not your fault,” you whisper, as if hearing his thoughts.
“Darlin’-” 
He chokes on all the words he wants to say, everything he’s been waiting to say. How he wishes you could see the ocean, like you’ve always wanted. How he wants to be right there with you, just to see the way your eyes light up. How his eternal life finally seemed to have meaning when he met you.
“It’s okay, Jasper. I’m okay.” You reach for him, wanting nothing more than to just take his distress away. That’s all you’ve ever wanted. He gives in, allows you to take his hand, pull him closer. For you, he convinces himself, despite the selfish comfort he finds in your touch. “I know it’s not your decision. This has nothing to do with you,” you hesitate, squeezing his hands softly with a sad smile, “but I’m glad I got to talk to you one last time, at least. It’s not so scary if it’s you.”
“Stop.” His voice cracks like thunder, desperation bleeding into his eyes.
But there’s one last thing you need to say.
“I love you.”
Your eyes drift shut and you tilt your face back to the sky.
A drop of rain traces down your cheek.
Now you’re ready.
“I can’t.”
What?
You peek your eyes open, looking on in shock as Jasper kneels in front of you, face set in the most determined look you’ve ever seen. What’s happening?
“I can’t hurt you. I won’t,” he declares, red eyes set on you without a hint of hesitation.
You gape at him, head suddenly spinning, “But Maria-”
“I won’t let her hurt you either.”
“But Jasper- How- What-”
“Run away with me.”
You blink. And blink. And blink. If you had a working heart, it would be beating out of your chest at this point. Has he lost his mind?
“We’ll go to the States, to the ocean just like you want, leave all this behind.” The words spill out of him, the dam finally broken. Each word makes your eyes go wider, the sadness receding as hope sparks in your chest. “Please, darlin’. Give me a chance to make you happy.”
“Oh, Jasper.” You touch his face, drawing him just close enough to press a kiss to his forehead. Jasper’s eyes flicker shut, your love washing over him like the rain. Your next words seal the rest of your eternity, “You’ve always made me happy. We can go anywhere. As long as I’m with you, I’ll be the happiest woman in the world.”
And for the first time in forever, that smile slants over his lips, bright and warm and gorgeous.
You missed that smile so much.
That night, the two of you disappeared into the storm. You don’t know if Maria ever searched for you. If she did, she never found you.
Jasper kept his word. As soon as you crossed the border, you traveled to the west coast. You saw the ocean, which was more than you ever expected it to be, and that’s where you stayed for a while. Until you met the Cullens, at least.
You were nervous at first. Large covens were rare outside of the armies, so you didn’t trust them at first. There was no way you’d do that ever again. But you missed having a family, and looking at them, you couldn’t help but want for what they seemed to have.
“What do you think, Jas?” You ask your mate as you curl into his side.
He wraps an arm around you, lips pressing against your forehead softly, “Whatever you want, darlin’. They’re intentions seem honorable.”
“Would you be okay going vegetarian, though?” You love the idea. It’s always bothered you, having to kill innocent humans. Even feeding from the bad ones leaves a bad taste in your mouth. 
“I’ll manage,” Jasper chuckles, eyes creasing.
“And the moving around?”
“We already do that, sugar.”
“Oh yah.” The Cullens move around far less than you, actually. You can’t believe they can stay in the same place for months, years even. The thought fills you with anticipation. Maybe you could finally settle down and have a normal life with Jasper.
“Maybe we could get a dog,” you hum, a slow smile spreading across your lips.
Jasper snorts, drawing you closer to press a kiss to your temple. You glance up at him, eyes bright with unrestrained excitement. And just like that, it’s decided.
“Let’s join them.”
“Alright! Oh! We could call him Cowboy! Can you imagine it? Cowboy the dog. It’d be perfect.”
“Anythin’ you want, darlin’.”
And that’s how you ended up with the Cullens.
---
“...wow.”
You grin at Bella, “I know, it’s a lot. But it all worked out for the best! I can’t imagine my life any different.”
“And I can’t imagine my life without you.” Your smile goes even wider when a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.
You look over your shoulder at your mate, eyes practically lighting up with affection, “Good, cause you’d be hard pressed to get rid of me at this point.”
Bella watches the small interaction, surprised to see the blond vampire without his usual stoic facade. He’s like a completely different person, practically melting into your touch, and smiling. Actually smiling. And you look just as lovestruck.
“You guys make a cute couple,” she says, feeling a bit awkward when you turn your gaze back to her.
“Thanks Bells. You and Eddie make just as cute of one. I can’t wait to go to your wedding.”
The brunette flushes what must be the darkest shade of red possible, successfully mimicking a cherry. She shuffles away with some muttered excuse, and you can’t hold back a giggle.
“You’re evil, darlin’,” Jasper murmurs, shaking his head.
You flip around in his hold, arms wrapping around his neck, “What! You know it’s going to happen. Edward’s completely smitten with that girl.”
“Still doesn’t mean you have to torture the poor thing,” he chastises, though he can’t hide the mirth in his tone.
“Fine. I guess I can take it easy on her,” you sigh dramatically, earning another chuckle from your mate.
“That’s my girl.”
You tuck yourself into his chest, hiding a truly ecstatic smile in his jacket. To this day, you still can’t believe that this is your life.
You really wouldn’t change anything about it. Not the bad things, not the start, none of it. You like to think your love is stronger because of it. And it will only continue to grow stronger every day for the rest of your eternity together.
You can’t wait to see where the two of you go.
---
This was not meant to get so edgy, but here we are. I never really know what I'm writing until it's finished.
Anyways! I hope you guys enjoyed the angst, hurt and comfort! A really fluffy fic will be coming next, and I am SO excited about it.
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suzukiblu · 5 months
Text
Another 1k of Kara getting to Earth on time and the Kents getting a two-for-one special on free kids for @qwertynerd97.
Kara steels herself against that thought as Ma and Pa speak with the server, and she(?) makes little markings on a rectangular pad in her hand. It takes Kara a moment to realize, but she thinks the server is actually recording their order by hand. 
Huh. 
What a strange concept. 
The server leaves with the menus and Ma and Pa speak to each other for a moment, and then both start cooing at Kal. He giggles and waves his little dog at them, and they coo at him some more. Kara feels an aching sense of loss and loneliness and too many other things to name and smiles at him and his little toy. 
“Is Krypto’s puppy having fun, Kal? Are you having a good time together?” she asks him, keeping her voice sweet and light. Kal burbles delightedly in reply, then starts to purr happily at her and cuddles his dog again. Ma and Pa blink, both looking confused. Kara isn’t sure why. Kal’s safe and content; why wouldn’t he purr? 
Kal purrs a lot, usually. Kara . . . Kara isn’t sure how many more times he’ll do that, once he realizes Uncle Jor and Aunt Lara are gone. Once he realizes they’ve “left” him and aren’t coming back. 
Though it’s the two of them that left everyone else, of course. 
So she’s going to treasure the sound of his purring now, while they’re both safe and alive and she doesn’t know how many more times she might hear it. If Kal never purrs again, though, well–well at least he’s safe. At least he’s alive. 
At least they’re together, if nothing else. 
Kara can’t imagine doing this alone, even knowing that Kal is still so small and helpless. Being the only one here at all, though . . . 
No, she really can’t imagine that. Can’t imagine what she’d do like that, alone with her grief on a planet full of strangers she knows nothing about and can’t speak the language of. 
If Kal were dead too . . . 
She crushes that thought. He’s not dead. He’s alive. Alive and fine. Happy in her lap with his little stuffed toy and Ma and Pa’s attention. Sweet and content and happy in her lap. 
She thinks of every Kryptonian child who's not sweet and content and happy in someone's lap right now, who won’t ever be again, and then crushes that thought too. 
Ma and Pa talk to each other in their odd, flat-sounding voices but surprisingly expressive tones. Their voices lack the resonance of Kryptonian ones, but their tones express much more than any Kryptonian's would. At least, more than any Kryptonian not emotionally overwhelmed would. 
It’s . . . hard to quantify the difference, exactly. There’s a hollowness to their voices, a missing echo or vibration somewhere in there, but they do much more with them. 
But they still sound so, so kind. 
The server comes back with a heavy tray of food, after a little while. She(?) lays out a succession of large round plates and platters all full to bursting with foods that Kara doesn’t recognize, all of them peculiar-looking and strange-smelling, though those unfamiliar smells are unexpectedly appetizing too. There’s mounds of something lumpy and yellow, thinly-sliced strips of . . . meat, she thinks, and more mounds of some kind of shredded–vegetable, maybe? And then a few large round light brown discs, stacked neatly on top of each other and taking up the majority of their own plates. 
It really does all smell good. 
Kara feels like crying for no real reason and also every possible reason, and tries to smile at the Kents.
Kal should see her smiling, she reminds herself.
They really don’t have to be this kind, though. But the Kents just smile back at her, and make encouraging gestures at the plates in front of her and Kal, and so she keeps smiling, and she eats the food and feeds little bits and bites of the softest bits of it to Kal. Aunt Lara and Uncle Jor only just started weaning him, but he’s eager to try everything she can deem suitable for him to. He’ll need milk too, obviously, but . . . it’s a start, anyway. 
The food is greasy and warm and buttery, and it’s both soothing to fill her stomach with it and nauseating to be eating anything at all. Their world is dead. Their family is dead. 
But Kal should see her smiling, and she needs to be strong for him, so she smiles, and she eats, and she doesn’t burst into tears in the middle of the restaurant and make a scene. 
She wants to, but she doesn’t. 
Kal likes the yellow lumps best. Kara doesn’t like anything, because it all tastes like ash in her mouth. But she . . . appreciates it, at least. It’s warm, and it fills her stomach, and Kal likes it. 
She wants to lay down and cry for a lifetime, but she’s hyper-aware of what a waste of a lifetime that would be. Her parents died for her. Uncle Jor and Aunt Lara died for Kal. Any one of them could’ve taken one of the ships; any one of them could’ve lived instead of them. 
But they didn’t. They gave them to her and Kal, and they died. 
So she can’t waste what they’ve given her. So she needs to take care of Kal, and make sure he’s happy. Make sure he can have the kind of life Uncle Jor and Aunt Lara would’ve wanted for him. Take care of him, like their family wanted. Protect him. 
She wants him safe. She needs him safe. She . . . she . . . 
Kal giggles over a funny face Pa is making at him, hiding his own face behind his toy. Uncle Jor isn’t the one who bought him that toy. Aunt Lara isn’t the one who’s lap he’s sitting in. Neither of them ordered this food. 
Kara is never going to see her parents again. There aren’t even bodies left. 
There’s nothing left of any of their family at all, except for the two of them.
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lvrslvt3 · 11 months
Text
LOVE IS A CHOICE | h. lewis
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main masterlist | youtuber masterlist
pairings : harry lewis x reader
summary : harry’s insecurities causes the downfall of his own relationship.
warnings : swearing, arguing, just a whole of sadness.
notes : thanks for all the love on my first harry fic (and my first fic ever) i greatly appreciate it!!
“walk out of that door,” you pointed your finger in the direction of your flat door, “and we’re fucking done. i mean it, harry.” you threat with your voice very audibly shaking with the overwhelming emotions you were experiencing.
he felt awful, seeing you in this state, but his mind was set. this would be better for you no matter how much it hurt at first. you would come to your senses quickly and live a better life and he was willing to sacrifice his own happiness for that.
harry stopped just as he was about to walk away from you, from your life together, to prepare himself for the heavy lie about to be forced through his lips — one that would break his heart just as it will yours.
slowly, he turned his head back to face you. “you can’t end anything that was never there.” your face immediately broke, and his heart broke so violently he was surprised it didn’t create any noise. there was no coming back from this.
you shook her head and opened your mouth but nothing came out except a small, choking sob that you quickly covered up by closing your mouth again. you weren’t going to break down infront of him, you wanted to look strong.
he didn’t deserve to see that he had so clearly hit a nerve, that he had just broken down the girl he had previously built back up. you just needed him to leave so you could be alone.
finally, he turned again and left your flat with a loud slam of the front door. your sobs echoed through his head as the door closed behind him for good — now he had to face the future alone.
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the more harry didn’t want you, the harder you tried. however, the harder you tried the more he didn’t want you. you didn’t know what you had done to deserve the treatment you had received from him that night. there was only thing you knew for sure; you couldn’t let it break you. atleast not on the outside.
so, in hopes of proving to everyone you was coping well you had agreed to a brunch date with talia in which you both sat at the back of a restaurant and spoke of your feelings. you had tried to avoid the topic but talia knew you to well.
she was the only one you could confide in. she was the only shoulder you let myself sob into when you couldn’t pretend to be okay anymore. she was your rock through it all. talia understood it was more than a breakup you were experiencing; it was grief of losing harry lewis.
your closest friend, sat across from you, swirled her plastic straw around her glass cup, glancing up at you after taking a sip. “do you still love him?” she questioned in a gentle tone that made you want to start crying again.
you didn’t answer properly at first. you hummed just before you took a large sip of your drink infront of you to try and delay the inevitable. talia would not leave you alone until she knew you were okay.
a mere three seconds later, a hand landed on top of yours, rubbing over the skin on top and taking you away from your own consuming thoughts. talia held your hand until you finally found the courage to answer out loud truthfully.
“i don’t think i’ll ever stop.” you words seemed to upset talia. it only proved how much she cared for you — that she felt your emotions with you to let you know you weren’t alone in this. “i just don’t know if we’re meant for each other.”
talia gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, “you should speak to him.” she advised you, “maybe you’re not meant for each other now, but end it in good terms just incase.”
you weren’t sure wether or not to go along with her advice, but at the end of the day you knew that you couldn’t move on from him properly without knowing what you had done to destroy your relationship.
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harry answered your late night text straight away and agreed to come over to yours only the next day. infact, he arrived an hour earlier than you both had agreed upon. mostly because he was too nervous to wait around.
now, you stood across from your ex boyfriend with only the kitchen island to separate you from eachother. you leaned against the counter in hopes it would keep you upright throughout this tough conversation that neither of you were ready for.
“did i do anything to make you stop loving me?” the questioned rolled off of your tongue as if it was a casual conversation topic, like you were talking about what to have for dinner instead of why your relationship fell apart so quickly.
harry couldn’t meet your eyes. instead, he was fixating on the ground beneath him. “i never stopped loving you.” finally he met your adamant gaze, “i just…” he shrugged as he tried to find his words, “if i don’t like who i am, why should you?”
you hung your head down onto your hands. you was beyond stressed. you had finally pieced it together — he didn’t stop loving you but instead stopped loving himself, which led to lots of miscommunication. however, you felt that surely he loved you enough to not let you go.
“but how could you leave me so easily?” you pestered him once again, causing his jaw to clench tightly and his eyes to move away from you once again. other than that his body was rigid, as if he was afraid to move.
he had planned this whole conversation out. he knew how this needed to end for your sake and he was willing to do anything for it. even if that meant going through this.
“it’s not easy, y/n, but it’s for the better.” harry finally looked up at his ex girlfriend that had been staring at him the whole time — looking exceedingly dejected. “you have to understand i don’t want to do this, i need to.”
“harry—“
“please, y/n.” harry interrupted you with an begging tone in his voice, “you don’t deserve me, you don’t deserve this,” he used his hand to gesture between the both of you, “i love you, i always will, but this doesn’t feel right.”
he began to grow frustrated. he shook his hands while he spoke in a way to try and get his correct emotions across without making this situation any worse than it already was. “please, y/n.” he turned desperate.
you didn’t want to argue anymore, he wasn’t changing his mind no matter what you said or did. his mind was set on leaving you no matter how much it hurt you to admit to yourself. you didn’t know if what you both had was true love, but it was the closest you had ever gotten.
“okay, harry.” you spoke with a despondent glaze over your eyes, you had lost all hope. you walked over to the other side to stand by harry, “whatever you need.” your voice broke through the sentence.
harry stood there, looking at the woman he loves, his heart heavy with longing despite their current situation. you looked back at him, your eyes locking, and you both knew what the other was feeling. despite all of it, you still had a feeling of mutual respect and understanding for harry.
he leaned closer, to try and kiss you, but before he can you pulled away. “i can’t.” your voice was merely above a whisper. the words still left harry speechless while you turned and walked away. leaving him in the kitchen staring at where you had disappeared to, looking mournful.
love is just not a feeling. it’s a choice that people made every day, and you had to chose to stop expressing your love for harry so he could learn to love himself properly. he needed to be there for himself to enjoy what you two had.
nothing compared to harry, but you would wait for him.
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hornedqueenofhell · 7 months
Text
Blueberries and Iron Pt 2
Pt 1
1983
“Jonathan! It’s Steve, look man I just wanna talk!” Comes through the door startling both Jon and Nancy. She gets up and goes to the door to try and convince him to leave.
“Steve, I need you to leave.”
“Nancy, what are you…?” He trails off, wide hazel eyes softening at the sight of her, “No, I’m not trying to start anything okay?”
The sweet scent of blueberries drifts through the room and Jon turns towards the door confused. He’d smelt blueberries faintly earlier too.
“I don’t care about that you need to leave.” Nancy insists, keeping her foot against the door to keep it closed.
“Listen I messed up okay! I messed up, I messed up okay. Please, I just want to make things right.”
Nancy hadn’t presented yet so her nose couldn’t pick up the specifics of what was happening unless her nose was close to Steve’s scent glands but Jon could tell from across the room. He could smell distress and affection and pain. Which meant that Steve could also smell them now.
“Is that blood?” Bitter blueberries and dead grass from the summer heat curled around them like guilt. “Are you guys hurt?”
Nancy tries to stop him but the scent of their pain and blood has Steve pushing through the door and catching sight of Jon with a matching injury on his hand. Nancy couldn’t tell but Jon, Jon who had presented as an omega the summer before entering high school, who had dealt with so much bullying for his designation and for coming into it so young. Jon could smell what was happening to Steve, knows how overwhelming it is, as all your senses are ramped to 11 without your consent.
“Easy easy,” Jon says, stepping closer to Steve. He carefully reaches out to the other man, thumbs brushing gently over his forearms in an attempt to sooth as he whispers to not overstimulate the other omega further, “Hey man, why aren’t you at home if you’re in heat?”
“Heat? What do you mean?” Steve mumbles, leaning closer into Jonathan to chase the smell of fresh orange juice and peppermint. He had been feeling off all day, short tempered and almost bloated, sweaty too especially around his thighs. But he’d shoved it aside in favor of wallowing in his grief until Tommy and Carol had strolled right into his house and bullied him out of bed to buy spray paint after they found out why he looked so pathetic. And then his face got beaten in and the painkillers he’d taken for the minor concussion he’d gotten dampened everything in his system.
Jon can see that Steve is swaying, overwhelmed with hormones and the smell of distress and blood and gasoline. “You need to get home Steve, don’t stop anywhere, just get home and lock all your doors. Make sure you have water and snacks okay?” He gently rubs his thumb over one of the glands on Steve’s wrist, trying to put out some soothing pheromones for the new omega.
And then Nancy loses her patience and points a gun at Steve. “Steve, get out!”
“What? What is going on?” Steve asks, he’s wilting from distress as his girlfriend, the person he probably unconsciously thought of as his alpha, threatens him.
“Nancy wait!” Jon tries to reach out and push the gun down but also really doesn’t want to get shot himself.
“You have five seconds to get out of here!”
“Nancy? This is a joke right?” Fuck, fuck. This is not good. Nancy is counting down and Steve is on the verge of dropping from the violent rejection.
And then the lights start flashing.
“Nancy! The lights!” It gets Nancy’s gun off of Steve but does nothing to help the situation. And now the demogorgon is trying to break into his house. Jon pulls Steve behind him, trying to protect the other omega who is now whimpering softly, fingers tangled in Jon’s jacket. And the guy probably doesn’t even understand why he feels like he does, why he’s in so much pain right now. Had probably expected to be an alpha, hell no one would have put money on Steve fucking Harrington becoming an omega. 
The ceiling starts to cave in, snarls emanating between crumbling sheetrock and wood. Nancy starts firing but Jon reaches out and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her backwards towards their trap. As soon as she takes off Jonathan grabs Steve’s hand and yanks him along too. 
“Jump!” He orders as they run and Steve springs over the trap with ease, reclaiming Jon’s hand as they make it into Will’s room.
“What the hell was that? What the hell was that?!” Steve shrieks.
“Shut up!”
Steve flinches back like he’s been hit and lets out a low, pained warble. If he knew how Jon was pretty sure Steve would be purring to try and self-soothe, but he didn’t and his girlfriend was systematically shattering his heart at the actual most vulnerable moment of his life.
“Do you hear anything?” Nancy asks, snapping him back to the present. None of them had heard the monster fall into their trap, in fact they couldn’t hear the monster at all anymore. 
Jonathan was the first one out of the room with Nancy right behind him, Steve glassy-eyed taking up the rear. Shitfuckdammit the jock was dropping hard.
The ceiling was perfectly intact, like nothing had ever happened. If he didn’t have two other people here witnessing this he’d think he’d just lost his mind and hallucinated it. Jon turns to Steve who’s sweating and taking shallow breaths, swearing he crosses the room back to the other omega, “Steve, Steve you need to go home. You’re dropping, you need to go find a friend or someone to take care of you through your heat. You need your nest Steve.”
“A nest, what the hell are you talking about Jon?” She turns to Steve, “And you need to leave.”
“Nancy stop! Stop, Steve’s in heat and you’re not helping.”
“Heat?” Nancy tries to reach out to Steve but Jon stops her.
“He’s dropping and you yelling is not helping. Keep an eye out to see if it comes back and I’ll walk Steve out.” Nancy holds her hands up and goes back to the living room, reloading her gun on the way.
Jon makes a soft trill to get Steve’s attention but the older boy barely responds, Jon finds himself reaching out to rub Steve’s arms gently instead hoping the physical contact will settle him, “Come on Steve. It’s not safe here, we gotta get you home okay? You need someone to take care of you and a nest okay? Nancy can bring you something later if you don’t have anything of hers for it.”
He carefully starts walking Steve to the door once he sees his eyes start to clear, it’s not a great idea sending Steve off still on the verge of a drop but it’s safer than here with a monster trying to kill them.
Steve finally trills back, it’s awkward and sounds a little garbled but it’ll get better with practice, “But it’s not safe, you can’t… come with me.”
“That thing took my brother, I’m not letting it get away with that.” They’re almost to the door now, Jon decides to push out another round of calming pheromones which Steve breathes in and curls farther into Jon.
“Will? That monster took him? Fuck Jonathan I’m so sorry I really am. About everything I said, that was the entire reason I came here was to apologize.” And with awareness came panic, adrenaline flooding the omega’s system telling them that there was danger, pushing for an extreme fight or flight response. “Please just, you guys can’t stay here either, call the cops or something!”
“Hopper is helping my mom get Will back, we’re trying to buy them time now please go, before it comes back!” Jon carefully but firmly nudges Steve out the door, watching as the omega chooses the much simpler flight option. He shuts the door behind him and turns back to Nancy as the lights start to flicker again.
“Come on. Come on you son of a bitch!” Jon shouts at the ceiling, “You see it?”
“No! Where…” And then the lights go out.
Jon remembers a growl, and Nancy screaming his name. The sheer panic of feeling this creature on top of him, rancid drool falling in his mouth. The ear ringing bangs of Nancy shooting at this creature while he choked and vomited up what had spilled into his mouth. And then the smell of blood and alpha rage. 
Nancy and Jonathan were the only two people who knew what Steve’s original scent was like, not even Steve himself really got a chance to process it before everything happened. When the kids ask them about it they’ll say Steve smelled like summer, like fresh cut grass and blueberry pie. It took a week for Jonathan to realize that the lingering scent of blood wasn’t because they’d missed a spot cleaning up the house.
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valleyfae · 1 year
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𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧
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𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ➛ Guys My Age AU: Masterlist
Paring: divorced!neighbor!Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings: soft father figure Bucky, age gap (reader’s in uni and Bucky’s in his 40s), hurt/comfort, heavy topics (indications of an abusive parent), smut 18+ ONLY MDNI, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (male receiving), lots of praise, dirty talk, and teasing. Bold italicized text is from the reader’s journal or past!!
Synopsis: You can't seem to keep your plans straight or your hands off of each other.
Word Count: 3.5k words
Authors Note: I have finally decided to update this fic, and I am so sorry it took so long. This part was supposed to be double the length, but I split it in half to post something now until I am happy with the second part. Enjoy!!
𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝
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𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✴︎ 𝐒. 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✴︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
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You’ve been awake for hours.
The bright rays of sunlight sneak through the narrow opening of the cream curtains that lightly sway in the summer breeze. The ashamed feeling of disgust still sunken deep into your heavy chest. Brain fuzzy, limbs weak, stomach cramping, nausea taking over your body as you groan. 
You tiredly stretch; the feeling of your cotton sheets is the only comfort you’ve gotten since Bucky held you in his safe arms. The sunken bags under your eyes become more apparent every day you go without him. 
Falling back into your drowsy state, chilling goosebumps creep down your spine. Yet, no matter the temperature, all you can feel is the isolation and the guilt you somehow manage to carry, blaming yourself for the actions others make. 
A sudden buzz from your phone instantly snaps you out of your hopeless mood. Too lethargic to check your messages, you ignore the notifications. A second buzz vibrates against your wooden bedside table. Tiredly you lift your hand out from under the covers. You squint your eyes as the bright screen inflicts your tired vision.
Dad - 9:27 am
About to leave for my business trip
Dad - 9:29 am 
Your keys are in the kitchen
His texts give a clear indication of what will be happening.
What always happens. 
You can’t deny the sick feeling that stirs your stomach from normalizing his apathetic customs. Dropping your phone onto your burdensome chest, you have zero reaction to the thump of the heavy glass screen on your exposed skin. 
You huff out, grief crawling under your skin. As you pull your covers over your face, you hear yet another buzz, your phone buzzing on your skin. "Shut up," you irately mumble into your soft duvet.
Carelessly, you sit up, sick of seeing your father's name. You quickly glance at the message, not bothering to see what it says, immediately throwing your phone back onto the sheets. 
Freezing your movements, you furrow your brows in confusion. 
You sit fully up for the first time this morning. Leaning against your headboard, you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to collect yourself from the lingering worries built up through your restless night. Nervous excitement washes the sullen expressions off your face. 
Your heart beats at a pathetically fast rate from simply seeing a notification.
Butterflies swarm your stomach, filling your throat with apprehensive nausea. Oh my god, just look at the fucking message. You take a deep breath, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the candle that lingers around your room; building up the courage, you open Bucky’s text.
Bucky - 9:31 am
Good morning, sweetheart! I hope you got a good night's sleep and got some rest. If you want to come over, I’ll be at my house. I just need to finish a little work but come whenever you want. There is a key behind the plant pot :)
Overwhelmed, you feel a sense of consolation as you read Bucky’s text repeatedly. You drag your hands down your face, shaking off your last bit of exhaustion.
It’s a little pathetically how a straightforward text Bucky probably wrote without thinking could bring you this much joy.
Stretching your sore muscles, you take your time to get out of bed – following the bright shine through the curtains, you pull them open to the sound of your father’s car dragging against the gravel. You turn your back to the window, take a deep breath, and push away your negative thoughts. 
You spend the next thirty minutes getting ready, taking your time to feel the hot water run down your back. You gently rub the sweet vanilla scent across your skin, wincing as your fingers skim over your bruises and sore muscles. 
Overcome by the debilitating urge to rush next door, you hastily gather your journal and headphones, knowing Bucky will be busy for a bit – you don’t care how long it takes him. 
You slip into a pair of shorts, the distressed denim skimming your legs, and the cotton of your old band-tee loosely hangs from your shoulders.
The warm breeze hits your skin as your shadow follows your restless steps until you reach the familiar sight of Bucky’s front door. 
You follow his expected thoughtful notes, involuntarily smiling as you pick up the cold key from the shade behind the potted plant, dragging the tip of your finger against the sharp ridges of the metal and taking a breath before gathering your overly excited body.
Carefully opening the heavy door, you step inside. The perfect type of silence and captivating scent flood your senses. Just being in Bucky’s house felt safe. The calm, sleek modern features hold a refreshing atmosphere that radiates the most precious feeling. 
As you step out of your untied Converse, the silence breaks. A faint purr draws you to the couch, and your giddiness heightens.
“Hello, pretty,” you coo, sitting beside the snow-white feline. “Don’t you look comfy?” Then, with one hand tenderly stroking Alpine, you pull your pen and journal out of your canvas bag.
Curled beside you, Alpine’s eyes flutter shut. “You have the most beautiful eyes, just like your dad.” She purrs in response closing the slight gap. “The most beautiful blue eyes.”
Your soft smile melts into a somber gulp as you take out your journal–leafing through your messy notebook and skimming over your prior writing. Lump forming in your throat, you hinder your light flipping of the pages and blankly stare at your words from the previous nights. 
The rivets of dried tear stains scatter your notes like the cuts and bruises fading from your skin.
The painful pages of burden. Every word, hit, insult, ingrained in your memory, the agonizing pluses, the claustrophobic beating of your heart, the fearful tremors, the salty tears slipping through the passage of your lips, manipulated to insanity, exhausted and delirious.
Bottled-up emotions flooded onto the pages of your journal – forever stuck in the cycle of shock, fear, denial, anger, and hopelessness. The stiffly chained pattern has never broken before.  
You never expected to feel any sort of safety.
Shame is always significant, always present, lingering in your mind, but the way Bucky cradles you in his strong arms brings you the comfort and acceptance you never expected, ever. The mounds of self-doubt that control your life slowly dissipate with every second you spend with him. The feeling he gives you is so foreign, and there are not enough words to describe it. The way he holds you in his arms. He’s nurturing. He feels like home.
The desperate longing for someone – that someone, perfect with all of their flaws and broken pieces. That person who will mend your fragile, fragmented mind, body, and soul. You never thought you would find the person, but with Bucky, it is finally starting to feel real.
You’ve never felt joy reading through your journal, repressed memories surfacing, haunting your every moment. Well, not until the night you spent the night at Buckys.
He is perfect – every part of him. 
“Sweetheart?” Bucky calls, a deep and gentle voice echoing down the stairs. His eyes land on the precious sight below him, and he gushes.
Longing gaze snapped back into reality, turning around and stuffing your journal in your bag. “Bucky?”
Nimble fingers rubbing through his beard, scratching the nape of his neck, he teases, taking his last steps to the couch. “Bunny?” kneeling, he tenderly pulls you into a hug, stroking Alpine when she lets out a jealous meow.
Walking down the hall, Bucky guides you into his bedroom. Thoughts mirroring yours, he stops you, gripping your chin between his fingers. Limbs intertwining and heavy breaths mingling, his soft lips skimming yours.
“Miss hearing that flustered hitch in your breath,” he whispers against your lips. “Perfect little girl’s all mine.”
You huff, nuzzling your heated cheeks into his buff chest. “Miss everything about you,” your words muffle against the black cloth constricting Bucky’s muscular figure.
Silence has never been more beautiful, cradled in his arms. Tension building with no fear, just desire.
“Got you something,” Bucky smirks.
Letting out a faint whine, you look up at Bucky, urgently wrapping your arms around his neck. Dwindling patience at an all-time low, heart rate climbing, Bucky welcomes your lips. His tongue glides pasts yours, syncing with the motion of your body as you cling to him.
“I got you a swimsuit,” Bucky whispers into the kiss. “Can go swimming this time, not just— God,” he curses under his breath when you playfully suck along his jaw.
“Not just… fuck me?” you pull away, surprising yourself with the way your words blatantly slip out of your mouth.
Bucky laughs, mockingly pulling away and laying a kiss on your forehead. “Someone’s got a dirty mouth today,” he chuckles, cupping your cheek.
With another sheepish grin, you follow Bucky down the hall, patiently swaying in your seat; you wait for him to bring you the swimsuit he found while in his suit.
Confidence in his step, Bucky tenderly smiles, holding out a cherry red one-piece.
Throat abruptly going dry, the customary throb radiates heat through your jean shorts. Hesitation stirs in your stomach–nervous nausea blocking your airway, cutting your breath short.
I’ve never felt uncomfortable around him. He’s never commented on my body, never drawn attention to my bruises and scars, and never made me feel weird for the horrendous way my eyes get puffy and face blotches when I cry. No one has ever made me feel the same as he does or made me feel good about myself. So does he care or only pity me because I’m just that pathetic? I don’t want him to worry about me. I don’t want him to think I just want attention. I don’t want to feel even more ashamed of myself. I just want to keep pretending that life is perfect, like how it is when I’m with him.
“I’m not the best shopper, aren't I?” Bucky sarcastically snickers, lightening the worried expression on your face.
“No, no, it’s just a little red?” you giggle, pushing your stresses aside. “I love it!”
Smiling up at Bucky, he takes your place, sitting on the linen couch. The soft chuckles of banter gone silent, you timidly undressing to rapidly put the swimsuit on. Tense arms hidden behind your back, you fidget with your fingers, eyes following the pattern of the wooden tiles.
Tongue swiping across his velvety yet slightly chapped lips, his large hand grips your discarded clothes. “Bunny?” his tone sweet and delicate, melodically humming with the blowing wind that ruffles the curtains.
Hands molding to your shoulders, he coos, “Take a deep breath for me.” Chaos constantly cluttering your mind, you follow Bucky’s instructions, giving him your vulnerability. “You don’t need to be scared of me. I’m here for you, no matter what.”
All you can do is nod, leaning into his warm embrace.
*ೃ༄
The summer sun beats down on the two of you as you agilely trace patterns down Bucky’s abdomen, centimeters away from gliding over his shorts. You shift lower in the sun lounger, intertwining your thigh around his leg.
The nervous lump thumping in your chest falls, adding to the pulse radiating off your clit and breaking the stop to your restlessness, gradually bucking your clenched hips as your nose brushes the thick trail of hair that travels beneath the waistband of his shorts.
“Feeling needy, bunny?” Bucky smugly chuckles, placing his book down and his colossal palm on your head instead. “No need to act shy; been teasing me, wiggling in those little red bottoms.” 
You tuck your head, and your flustered instinct kicks in, nose pressing against Bucky’s bulge; you whimper, realizing your position and rising embarrassment.
“Did so good for me last time. I’m still here to help but fuck.” Bucky tenderly rests his palm on your cheek. “Gonna get me hard just thinking about those soft lips wrapped around my cock, looked so pretty, so innocent sucking on my balls. Most perfect sight I’ve ever seen.”
The temperature of your face increases, but that doesn’t stop your body and your racing thoughts. Vivid images flood your memory of the first time you gave Bucky head, the first time you have ever given a man head. 
The one time has left you with a ravenous craving for Bucky, a desperate yearning to please him, the vague taste of him ingrained in your imagination every second that goes by, and it’s intoxicating.
“Can I?”
Looking up, you admire Bucky's defined abs, perfectly sculpted biceps, the bright sunlight glimmering in his crystal blue eyes. A comforting aura emits from his words, breath, and presence; that feeling of safety mixed with passion curates his effect on you, the lust that flows through your veins, leaving you writhing for friction.
You sit up, putting your weight on your heels – pressing against the emerging wet patch on your red bikini. “You know, um….” you mumble, eyes subconsciously drawing to Bucky’s bulge.
He shifts up, spreading his thighs, establishing a space for you to lay. “We have an eager little girl today, now do we?” Bucky chuckles, cupping your cheek and pressing a kiss to your forehead, savoring the feeling of his soft, blush lips on your skin before he pulls away, his gaze piercing through your eyes with a gentle smile. “You’re gonna make me crazy,” he murmurs.
Licking your lips, you tug the supple flesh with your teeth; anticipating his following instructions, you center yourself and lay your clammy palms on your legs, exhibiting your restlessness with a subtle pout.
Intertwining his fingers with yours, he guides your hands to his growing bulge. “Don’t worry, bunny. I'm here.” The trembling of your wrists dies down as Bucky reassuringly moves your shaky touch to a steady pace. “I got you.”
Slipping your fingers past the band of Bucky’s swim trunks, you pull them down his hips, gaze apprehensively shifting from Bucky’s alluring eyes to the expanding path of hair you’re gradually exposing.
“Lemme just,” Bucky grumbles, freeing his strained erection and aching full balls from the polyester. A content sigh washes over him as you finish taking off his bottoms.
Sinful and tainted, you cave in, your mouth watering excessively as you attentively watch Bucky wrap his fingers around his thick base. “Go on and lay down for me.” 
You hastily shift into the spot between Bucky’s muscular thighs, timidly placing a hand on his olive skin. “There you go, pretty girl’s so smart,” Bucky croons, his palm smoothing over your temple.
Your fingers barely conceal Bucky’s staggering girth mimicking his form seconds before; you glide your tongue up his shaft coating him with an abundant amount of your drool, all while maintaining hankering eye contact. His distinct, musky taste seeping into your taste buds, the feeling of his jutting veins intoxicating, you let out a content hum. Following your steady path, you kiss Bucky’s bulbous tip; a faint moan vibrates off your puckered lips, drawing a deep grunt from his chest.
“You see how hard you make me? Fucking hell, don’t need my help at all. So good for me—” Bucky groans, guiding your head down, pushing himself past your glistening lips. “That’s my girl.”
You immediately gag, glassy eyes building tears, your body’s natural response seeming hostile, but it’s your favorite feeling.
Both hands tentatively wrapped around him, the tip of Bucky’s cock prods the back of your throat—drool seeping past your lips, cascading over your tense knuckles.
Bucky's words meld into satisfied grunts, his chest heaving to the rhythm he enforces with his hand pressing down on the crown of your head. “Always take me like a champ,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Don’t you, bunny?”
His pulsing tip pummels down your throat, pushing your head down further, and a perfectly sculpted outline of his cock shapes down your neck abundantly. Copious amounts of saliva coat your chin, running down your chest and creating a glistening pool to glaze over the cushion below you.
Encouraging groans flow from Bucky’s lips as he digs his pearly white teeth into his plush red lips. His eyes locked on yours, the plentiful strands of silver that weave through his hair, glimmering in the sunlight.
The thump in your chest drops between your legs. You urgently clamp your thighs together, helplessly clenching your muscles in an attempt to fulfill the ache exuding heat from your neglected clit. You sync your needy movements with the tempo Bucky set with his hand planted on the back of your head. The repetition of your self-inflicted grinds rapidly builds a coil in your stomach.
Bucky frees you from under his grasp, stifles the tempo of his thrusts, and pumps his cock. “There she is,” he groans. “Shit. Making me feel so good.” 
Increasing the speed of the rough buckling of your hips, Bucky continues to praise you as your drool-painted lips connect to his full heavy balls. His stare drops from your watery eyes to your hips, needily grinding onto nothing. “You don’t need my help, doing amazing. Love it so much you’re humping the air, aren’t you, poor thing?”
The sound of your gags is replaced by your pleading whimpers, which have become more and more substantial as you borrow your nose further against Bucky’s base, his balls drawing up as you slurp your excessive drool.
“Come here,” Bucky motions, soothingly rubbing your free hand on his thigh. “Help me cum – need to feel that pretty cunt wrapped around my fingers. Need to show my girl how proud of her I am.”
Responding with a confused hum, Bucky cups your cheek, gently guiding you up, patting the cushion; he stabilizes your trembling legs, straddling your thighs so you’re hovering over his cock, harder than ever.
He patiently hooks his dexterous fingers around the vibrant fabric, revealing your puffy clit.
He catches your keen gaze, eyes following down to your eager pout and back to your cunt, skimming your mound with his digits. Struggling to form a sentence, you reflexively roll your hips, internally screaming, begging for Bucky to speed up his sly gestures.
His soft chuckles fuel your neediness, but before he can get his words out, you huff, “be patient. I know, I know.” Digging your fingers into his biceps, you giggle, mirroring his smile.
Swimsuit fully pushed to the side, Bucky slides his tip between your folds, teasing your entrance. “Using my words against me,” he rebuts, moving his hands and securely gripping your waist. “You know I’m right. I always make you feel good.”
Playfully rolling your eyes, you whimper under your breath, “Bucky.”
Feeding your restless state, he slowly slips you down onto his length, stretching past your entrance.
As much pleasure as Bucky has brought you in every other position, this foreign fluffiness and a false sense of control is startling yet exciting. Bucky’s steady thrusts, combined with your frantic bounces as you rock your hips, almost instantly bring you to your climax.
“B-Buck–” you mewl, embarrassment and pleasure clouding your senses. “Please, I’m- I’m….” Squinting your eyes shut, you arch your back, tensing your muscles.
Maintaining his authoritative grasp on you, Bucky attaches the pad of his thumb to your clit, pulling a squeal from the back of your throat. “So quick,” he scoffs, breathlessly moaning himself. “Look at me, bunny.”
You collapse onto Bucky’s chest, tired and helplessly chasing the rapid thump in your abdomen. “Feels s-so, feels so good.” Brows furrowed, you open your heavy lids, holding back your release until Bucky reassures your pleas. “Can’t hold it, can’t hold it.”
Desperately squirming on top of Bucky, you press your parted lips to his, panting into his mouth. “Go on, cum for me.”
You let go, moaning as you jolt forward, embracing Bucky’s pace, clinging to his frame, letting him take complete control. “There you go—” Bucky’s words get increasingly gravelly as he feels himself climaxing.
His hot breath cascades down your neck–the heightening, deep, harsh snaps of hips let you know he is close. “B-Bucky, please. Please c-cum in me,” you breathlessly mumble.
“Fuck, bunny.”
Bucky holds you close, soothing you from the bliss. He isn’t thinking about anything else besides you in his arms. He lets you bask in the comfortable silence as the pulse between your legs ebbs away until all that is left painting your sensitive folds is his smooth seed that you begged him to fill you up with.
Keeping your clammy cheek pressed to his beating chest Bucky reaches for one of the pool towels he had brought out to clean up to the best of his abilities.
“Said we were swimming, and you wouldn’t just fuck me,” you murmur, voice still raspy as you pull yourself out of the hazy aftermath.
Bucky chuckles as he lays the towel back down. “Really are using my word’s against me today, aren’t you?”
“Uhmm,” you happily hum back at Bucky, shifting up to press your buzzing lips back onto his.
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𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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794 notes · View notes
youareunbearable · 22 days
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I've been thinking about Dionysus a lot, mainly as a god of madness and what that looks like, and ofc I've been taking my two favourite things and smashing them together so I come to you all with this: to mortals, the Sons of Feanor are remembered for their madness.
Feanor, of course, is remembered the most for his brilliance. And because of this, brilliance comes hand in hand with madness. A mad scientist of you will. Many mortals warn each other of not falling too far into the act of creation, to not get too lost into their work or else they might not find themselves whole and sane again.
Ambarussa are seen in duality, like expected. They embody both the panic and fear and crazed determination of: the coward that would do anything for life; the deserter who claws and screams at their chains begging for freedom at any cost ; the dying and their moans and pleads and horrible knowing laughter; but also of the slow, mindless, aching guilt of the survivor. For there is a madness there, a quiet consuming one, that comes with the knowledge of following orders of madmen, and doing nothing to free yourself. Of shaking the bars of your mind as you complete the same tasks over and over and over hoping for a new outcome when you know from the start what it will be. In both cases Ambarussa burns and they laugh
Caranthir is another one that mortals call upon often, for its the madness of rage, of speaking and acting without thinking. The kind of daily insanity of intrusive thoughts and his name would be a warning to not let them win. For its so easy to slip, to give into the mindlessness of instinct, of acting without thought or reason, to scream and rage and feel it flood over your body, ignite your cheeks. But it's always over before it starts, leaving you dizzy at the thought, the implications, the aborted actions.
Curufin is madness of loyalty. Blind loyalty, consuming filial loyalty, the desire for praise and recognition, to be the best. It strangles your heart and mind, his mindless loyalty, this overwhelming driving force. Cities and empires have fallen to this madness, for what is ambition if not its own brand of insanity. To believe you are larger than life, to be greater than your fellow man, to take whatever you want at the cost of everyone else- if that isn't madness then what is?
Celegorm would be that answer, for many mortals say he is the most blatant of the Sons, for he is the madness of the Kill, the lost of self in the Bloodlust, the driving force of the Hunt. With the third son, he is the true concept of Maenads- the frenzied rites. The losing of inhibitions, the fervent prayers to a God that is no longer listening, the thrill of tearing into your kill, feeling their life drip from your teeth as you laugh and laugh at an all seeing and uncaring sky. He would be the unruly madness, the one that follows you at the bottom of a bottle, laughing in your ear and filling your senses until you do something you regret, maybe even something you don't even remember at the end of the night
Maglor would be the most well known of the Sons, one mortals are aware of, and many aren't even afraid of. Many even sink into his embrace, as easy and willing as a hug from a longtime friend. Madness in grief is always easy to be enveloped by, for grief is something that is too easy to lose yourself in, and its something that lingers for years, decades, always ready to sink its claws into you when you least expect it. To ward him off from overstaying his welcome, mortals gift seashells to lessen the time his hysteria cloaks you, if not to ward it off completely. Its because of him, mortals say, that your tears taste of saltwater, its his unending grief at the seaside at work
And finally, the oldest of the Sons. Some mortals claim that Maitimo isn't a madness of his own, but Feanors perfect creation that was shattered into 7 fragments, never to be whole again and doomed to be imperfect forever, picking up after his broken pieces. Oh no, others cry out, Russandol is the insanity of doom relationships, of star-crossed lovers and falling into the insanity that is born of knowing you will never be happy and at peace together. Other mortals scoff at this, for they know that Nelyafinwe is the downward spiral one goes on when they have overwhelming and doomed expectations crushing their shoulders, the slip into consuming madness that no matter what you will never be able to meet them. Still others shake their head. You're almost right, they call, Maedhros is all of that and more. For the eldest of the Sons is the most madness inducing thing of all, the knowledge of failure.
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babyblue711 · 7 months
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Devotion
Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x Reader - Part 3 (Final) Read Part 2 Here Chapter Summary: Before the men head off to war yet again, Osferth and Reader share a romantic night to themselves. Words: 5.9K
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Chapter Warnings: NSFW, Sexual Content 18+, Smut, Loss of Virginity, Fingering and overall shenanigans
A/N: Word of the wise - Osferth takes his time with his sweet little virgin. Strap in for the long haul kiddos 🔥
💙 Beta read by the wonderful: @sylasthegrim
💙 Beautiful gif by the one and only: @myfandomprompts
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In the aftermath of the battle, you and Osferth take Finan’s horse in search of your brother and sister. The tension in the air is palpable as you scour the forest, calling their names, hoping to find them unharmed. After what feels like an eternity, you stumble upon a small clearing deep in the woods and discover them safe and sound.
Your sister sobs the whole way home, overwhelmed by the terrifying ordeal and you gather her in your arms, whispering reassurances in her ear as she rides in front of you in the saddle on Osferth’s white horse. Your brother sits stoically in front of Osferth, a vision of bravery for getting his sister to safety. Even though you are exhausted and weary from battle, you finally feel complete as the four of you make your way back home.
The atmosphere in Rumcofa is somber and heavy with grief. The massacre of innocent Danes has shaken the town to its core, and a sense of fear and uncertainty hangs in the air. The place that once felt like home, a sanctuary, no longer seems safe. Worry grips your heart; you are unsure how long Uhtred and his men will call this town “home” and you feel safest being wherever they are. The uncertainty makes you feel insecure about your immediate future.
A few days go by and Lord Athelhelm’s evil plot finally starts to unravel. Osferth and Finan rush to Uhtred’s side as the Saxon and Dane armies converge to straighten out the misunderstanding that had pitted them against one another in the first place. It had not been Danes that had killed Lord Athelhelm’s daughter like he wanted everyone to believe but rather his own scheme gone awry; she sacrificed herself to save the visionary he had intended to kill in order to sow discord between Saxon and Dane. But in the chaos of the battle that followed, he escaped to Bebbanburg. 
The men briefly return to Rumcofa, mainly to gather their remaining strength before marching on Bebbanburg to bring Lord Athelhelm to justice. You know Uhtred has longed to liberate Bebbanburg from his cousin, Lord Wihtgar, for many years and with the King’s assistance he is finally getting the chance to reclaim his birthright. 
Will it ever stop? you wonder to yourself as you help Ingrith prepare dinner for them that evening. Will war ever stop for these men? All you wanted was peace and for them all to be safe at home in the arms of their loved ones and families. 
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Upon their arrival back home, Osferth had officially asked Lord Uhtred for your hand in courtship and Uhtred, as wise as ever, had smiled and said, “I will leave that for the lady to decide.” Of course, you had happily accepted, finally being able to declare your love for each other and be an official couple, filling a void that had been in your hearts for a long time. You can tell Osferth feels the same. 
The evening before their departure to Bebbanburg is bittersweet. Knowing that Osferth will be leaving on the morrow for battle once more, you've resolved to savor this precious evening with him, cherishing the moments you have together. Curled on the gray fur blanket next to the fire crackling merrily in the hearth, you listen intently as he reads verses of The Holy Book to you. 
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You watch him read, admiring the sharp shadows on his face from the firelight. Your eyes trace the length of his nose and the shape of his strong jaw and chin; he licks his thumb to turn a page, reading aloud all the while, oblivious to your adoring gaze, and you suddenly feel something stir deep within when you see his pink tongue dart from between his lips. 
You crawl over to him on the fur rug, and gently place your hand on top of the page, causing him to stop at your distraction. He looks up at you questioningly. 
“Perhaps that’s enough reading for tonight?” you ask lightly, giving him a sweet smile.
“Of course, my lady,” Osferth marks his page and closes the book, stretching to put it on a nearby table. He returns his attention to you.
“Well, we have the night to ourselves, what would you like to do next?” he asks you innocently with bright eyes. Both of your siblings are staying at Astrid’s tonight. She promised them lots of fun and games, a needed reprieve for the children after a hard couple of weeks, while giving you a knowing wink. 
“I think I have something in mind,” you try to say in your best sultry voice, feeling more confident than you really are. You reach out and grab Osferth by the collar, bringing his lips to your own. He immediately understands your intentions and, after a moment, gently pulls back.
“My lady, please, there is no rush…,” he starts to say but you stop him by putting a finger to his lips.
“Please, Osferth?” you ask, eyes wide, begging him with your gaze. “Truly, I want you…before you have to leave again.”
He sighs and considers you, torn by his feelings and sense of responsibility. “I want you too,” he confesses with longing in his voice. “I have wanted you for a very long time, but I would never pressure you. There will be plenty of time for that.”
“Will there be?” you question sharply, “Nobody knows what the future holds, Osferth, not even the gods. Mine or yours.” 
He takes a deep breath, leveling you with a steady stare and you feel compelled to confess to him.
“Osferth, I… I have not been with anyone else in that way,” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper. “Please, I am yours.” 
You see his breathing pick up as the weight of your words settle upon him, his eyes searching yours. 
“You are still a maiden?” He swallows as you nod, confirming what he had suspected but didn’t know for certain. He blinks rapidly as he absorbs your words. 
“My lady…what you offer me, you can only offer once. You cannot take it back once it is done. I am honored, but are you sure?” 
You nod, having never been more sure about anything in your life. “Osferth, you have held a treasured place in my heart since I was a girl. I cherish you above everyone else,” you pause to take a deep breath, laying your emotions bare, “Please….I belong to you and have for a long time.” 
His face softens with affection at the sincerity of your words, warmth seeping out of his blue eyes and he responds with a confession of his own.
“And my heart belongs to you, for longer than you know,” he says softly, surprising you by the duration of his affection and depth of his devotion. His words flow freely now, as if he has been waiting for this moment. “I have watched you struggle and bear the weight of womanhood long before your years. You have always triumphed in anything you set your mind to. I admire you more than you know and have for a long time.” 
He leans towards you, gently cupping the side of your face with his hand, his thumb tracing your cheekbone and the faint scar left behind from Bresal’s blade. Your heartbeat picks up wildly as you stare with adoration into each other’s eyes. He rests his forehead against yours and you breathe each other in; time seems to stand still as you share this intimate moment together, lost in the confessions of love. 
You lose track of how much time has passed, deciding to prompt him further by leaning up and whispering against his lips, “Please, allow me to truly be yours.”
Whether from your words or actions, you finally seem to break his resolve as he returns your kiss, his mouth opening under yours. 
“I promise to be gentle,” he breathes, finally verbally acquiescing before resuming your kiss. For a moment, you enjoy languidly the taste of each other’s tongues as he pulls you into his lap, straddling him, and you immediately run your fingers through his hair, kissing deeply.
Your heartbeat picks up in this new position, never having been so intimately wrapped around a man before; it is all so new to you. Although you have imagined this scenario for so long, it seems to have come upon you so suddenly. You realize you felt braver going into battle than you do at this moment, intertwined around Osferth. 
You spend some time exploring each other’s mouths, moaning lightly as he shifts his position, bringing you down to lay under him on top of the furs. He hovers above you, using his arms to support his weight as you spread your legs to allow him to settle within the cradle of your hips. 
His smell surrounds you as he continues kissing you for a while more, taking his time. Decidedly more impatient than he is, you reach for the cinch of his alb, eager to undress him. He allows you to untie it, and then removes it with your help, left only in his breeches. He lowers himself back onto you, and you can feel the heat radiate from his bare torso through your simple dress. You start to explore his body with your hands, running them up his sides and down over his strong back muscles, repeating the pattern. 
Osferth suddenly rolls you over until you are on top, and you sit on him tentatively, unable to ignore the bulge you feel in his pants that's pressing against your center. 
“I cannot be the only one undressed,” Osferth says easily, a smile tugs at his lips as he reaches for the ties at the front of your dress. Slowly, sensually, you help Osferth remove your dress, the intricate laces and extra layers adding an additional step of difficulty. Finally, you pull your dress and shift up over your head, baring yourself before him, nipples hardening in the cool air, left only in your smallclothes on your bottom half. 
Your heartbeat races as his eyes devour your body and you desperately try not to feel self-conscious. His big, hot hands run up your hips, over your ribs and across your back. You arch into his embrace, reveling in the warmth of his hands, feeling the calluses on his palms, knowing those same hands have dealt death to many men in battle yet are being so gentle on your soft skin now. 
His thumb skims down over your nipples briefly, getting you used to his touch. His hands make another circuit down your ribs and up your back before sliding down to your breasts once more; his large hands cover them completely as he gives them a gentle squeeze, kneading softly. You whimper, closing your eyes to his touch, unable to help grinding on top of his covered length as his attention to your breasts builds your arousal, an ache forming between your thighs. 
He lets out a soft grunt as you continue to rub yourself upon his growing bulge. Suddenly, he flips you back over, the naked skin of your back now laying upon the soft fur blanket and kneels between your thighs.
“Have you ever seen a naked man before?” he asks and you shake your head no.
He seems to have expected this, shifting to take off his breeches and bare himself to you. Your eyes widen when you look upon his impressive length and your brain suddenly jumpstarts, that’s supposed to fit inside me? Hard and heavy, his cock stands erect between his legs and it draws your eye; you can’t help but stare at the veins and the way the head seems to weep. Your gaze flits over his moderate patch of hair and finally his balls; they look taunt from the strain of his standing cock and you wonder what they feel like to touch. 
Your trepidation must have shown clearly on your face, for Osferth no longer kneels between your legs but lies at your side.
He grabs your chin and looks you in the eyes, “We’ll go slow,” he promises as he places a soft kiss on your lips. 
You nestle into the soft fur of the blanket, the heat of the fire and of Osferth’s skin keeping you plenty warm. You continue to kiss for a few more moments, the kisses becoming deeper and more heated and you try to ignore the way his heavy cock presses against your thigh. Suddenly, his hand comes up and rests on your leg and you immediately tense at the sensation. You know what is coming and it both terrifies and exhilarates you. 
For a couple of strokes, Osferth simply rubs your outer thigh, getting you used to the sensation of him touching you more than he ever has before. As you relax under his touch, you arch your back, sighing into his mouth as you press your chest into his, enveloped in his warm embrace. The heat of his skin settles you, calms you. He continues for a few more moments, hand moving from your thigh, sliding up and over your ribs and down your back before finally caressing your breasts again. 
The ache between your legs continues to grow, but it’s not an entirely new sensation, you had felt desire before. You find yourself craving his touch and wanting more.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes as he starts to trail kisses down your neck and over your collarbone, finally putting your nipple in his mouth and sucking, kneading the other breast with his hand. You push your breasts into his face and moan, delighted at these new sensations. You rub your thighs together, hoping for some friction as Osferth still has yet to touch you there. 
He works his way back up your body, kissing your lips and you revel in his touch, running your fingers through his hair, pulling at the back of it a bit, urging him on. Osferth had promised to go slow and slow he was going. You decide to help him pick up the pace a bit.
You are still far too intimidated to touch his length but you take his hand and lead it between your thighs, feeling bold. He breaks the kiss and gives you a small smirk.
“So impatient,” he whispers, hand stilling on your center, not giving you the friction you crave. “Lie back for me.” 
You roll from your side onto your back as Osferth easily removes your smallclothes and your naked body lies on the fur on full display. Osferth shifts closer to you, propped up on one arm as his hand trails down your stomach and up one thigh. You mewl pathetically, begging him with your sounds where you want him to touch you.
A smug smile lifts the corners of his sensuous mouth; he knows exactly what he is doing and how to tease you as he trails his fingers along the inside of your other thigh. You squirm and begin kneading your breasts, his eyes flicking up to watch you touch yourself and finally he relents from his torturous teasing as his fingers come to lightly trail over your silky slit.
Your breath hitches at his touch, as he parts your lips with his fingertips and explores your folds, dipping down to your entrance, gathering wetness onto his fingers. You close your eyes, unable to meet his gaze, bashful now as he touches your most intimate parts.
“Is this what you want, my lady?” Osferth asks playfully in a deep voice. 
You bite your lip and nod, focusing on the sensation of his fingertips as he begins to circle your bud expertly with the pads of his fingers. You mewl, spreading your legs wider for him to access your core.
“Have you ever touched yourself before?” Osferth whispers in your ear. You keep your eyes closed and nod again, too shy to see his expression when you admit to pleasuring yourself. You had even brought yourself to orgasm from time to time. But no man has ever made you feel as good as this. 
“Good, then you are at least familiar with this,” he mutters, mostly to himself and you relax at his approval.
After a few moments, you start to pant as his adept fingers increase the pace on your bundle of nerves. You moan as Osferth shifts his fingers down to your entrance and he tentatively pushes one inside of your tight velvet walls, slowly working you open.
You gasp a little, eyes snapping open, fingers gripping the back of his hair, holding him close, his lips on your neck. His finger is much longer and thicker than your own and your back arches off the floor at the sensation of him inside of you. His intrusion doesn’t hurt, your pussy is well soaked by now as he moves his middle finger in and out of you gently. Your breathing picks up as lewd squelching noises mix with the crackling of the fire, sounding loud in the quiet room. 
He manages to lift his face from your neck, a feat considering how hard you are clinging to him, and watches your face as he explores the inside of your pussy with his finger, his heavy-lidded eyes dark with lust. 
You pant, eyes glazed, staring up at him as he watches your face. After a few more gentle pumps you feel him withdraw only to feel a slight stretch this time as he pushes two fingers into you. Eyes widening, your breath quickens at the unfamiliar sensation, hands moving down to grip his shoulders, eyebrows knitting together as you adjust to this new feeling.
He immediately stops when he sees your slight frown. “Does it hurt?” he asks, voice soft. You shake your head and bring your lips up to his, and he gives a satisfied groan into your mouth as you continue to feel him moving inside of you, feeling your walls, as if he is searching for something.
It isn’t until electricity explodes from your core and straight into your heart that you realize he found whatever it was that he had been searching for. You are unable to maintain your kiss, panting and moaning and he crooks his fingers repeatedly against a sweet spot deep inside of you, a spot you didn’t even know existed. Somewhere in the far recesses of your mind, you wonder how he already knows your body better than you do. 
He sets a steady rhythm, pumping his fingers while curling them slightly, consistently hitting your spot of pleasure, overwhelming you by the intense sensations he is pulling from your body. 
After a minute, he pauses his ministrations, giving you a small reprieve and you moan loudly, breathing heavily. 
“My lady, close your eyes and focus on the pleasure,” Osferth instructs in a whisper and you do as he bids, letting him consume you as he begins again, picking up the pace. His palm constantly rubs your pearl and soon you start to feel something intense building deep inside of you, stronger than you’ve ever known before. You focus on the pleasure, your breath starting to come in quick gasps as the tension builds. Suddenly you find yourself babbling uncontrollably, begging Osferth to continue his pace, willing him not to stop.
Ecstasy explodes from your core, traveling to the tips of your fingers and toes as you cry aloud, legs trembling as your cunt clenches down on Osferth’s fingers, reaching a level of pleasure you have never known. Osferth continues to work you through your peak until you are on the brink of overstimulation, finally withdrawing his hand, leaving you panting on the floor next to him. As you try to regain your composure, you open your eyes, mind blissfully blank, and stare at the wooden ceiling of your cozy cabin. 
You turn your head to look at Osferth next to you and he raises his eyebrows.
“… what was that?” you ask breathlessly.
“Did you like it?” he asks innocently with a cocky smirk as if it wasn’t perfectly obvious that he had just given you the greatest pleasure of your life. 
All you can manage is a giggle; you’re at a loss for words. You hear him chuckle too, low under his breath beside you as he shifts. Looking down, your heartbeat picks up again as you notice that he has grasped himself in hand, using your slick from his fingers to coat his thick length. 
“Are you ready?” he asks softly and a tingle goes up your spine as adrenaline spikes in your veins again. You find yourself trembling, not from fear, but from anticipation.
You find that you can not speak, only nod as you finally realize what is coming. His fingers were one thing but his length still looks just as alarmingly large. You know you want him inside of you but you are apprehensive of the pain you are sure to feel, even after your incredible peak.
Osferth moves to hover above you once more, his slim hips resting on yours. He gives you a deep kiss as he lines himself up with your entrance and you break the kiss once you feel him pressing there; you can’t seem to concentrate on doing two things at once as you tense, wondering how on earth he is supposed to fit. Osferth pushes the head of his cock into your opening, stretching you fully for the first time.
You immediately suck in a sharp breath at the pain and he instantly withdraws, looking down at you with concerned eyes. 
Shivering a little underneath him, you whimper, “Osferth, how is it supposed to fit?” a note of worry in your voice.
His eyes soften as he understands the source of your concern. Leaning down, he gives you a sweet kiss while shifting his weight to one elbow, his hand comes up to smooth your hair away from your face in a reassuring gesture. 
“My lady, you have to relax,” he says in a soothing whisper. “There will be some stretching but most women seem to enjoy it. A sharp pain means you are too tense or not wet enough and I do not think we have to be concerned with the latter,” he chuckles a little at his joke as he guides you through this.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks gently, giving you a way out.
You shake your head quickly, you have come this far and you aren't stopping now. 
“Breathe deeply for me,” Osferth counsels wisely and you do as he says. He leans down and kisses your lips, pushing his tongue into your mouth as he tries to distract you again as he guides the head of his cock into your pussy once more.
This time he doesn’t stop as the head of his cock spears you open and he continues pushing in, sliding slowly, inch by savory inch. Again you can’t maintain the kiss, focusing on the stretch, his eyes scan your face, watching for any signs of pain. The stretch is intense, more so than what you were expecting. You close your eyes, eyebrows knitting together, focusing on allowing him deep inside of you, panting and trying to breathe through the new sensation. Above you, Osferth gives a small groan as he tries to push in as slowly and gently as possible without causing you undue pain.
Finally, he bottoms out inside of you, bodies fully flush together and he stills, allowing your walls to adjust to his girth. 
“There,” he breathes, nose brushing against yours, “the hardest part is over.”
You nod, hanging on to every word as he kisses you again and begins thrusting very softly in small, rocking movements.   
In a few moments, you find yourself relaxing as you get accustomed to the stretch and it starts to feel quite nice. You find you quite like the feeling of his thick cock dragging along inside your walls, filling you up, completing you, making you feel whole, joined together as one at last.
Your hands move to explore his shoulders, sliding down along his back muscles and over his toned arse and you boldly push his butt down, causing him to sink a little deeper inside of you and causing you to gasp. Osferth smirks, seeming to enjoy your little noises as you experience everything for the first time. The feeling of fullness is heavenly as he slides back and forth, slowly increasing his pace. 
You start to meet his thrusts as you relax into his rhythm. Encouraged by your movements, he picks up the pace, increasing both your pleasure and his. 
You pant and mewl underneath him as tension builds deep in your core, radiating from your pussy through your whole body. Encouraged from your lusty moans, Osferth starts to pump in and out of you in strong, smooth strokes, the sound of your skin slaps together erotically. 
“My lady, you are so perfect,” Osferth grunts as his own release starts to build and consume him, “I am sorry but I will not last very long.”
Having not known how long it was going to last anyway, you don’t respond, continuing to meet his thrusts and whine underneath him. 
He rolls his hips into you a few more times, both of you breathing hard, consumed by the pleasure, when suddenly he withdraws, taking himself in hand and pumping quickly until thick pearly ropes of spend shoot out and coat your stomach.
You lay panting, instantly missing the loss of the fullness you felt when he had been inside of you. As the warmth of his spend seeps into the tender skin of your belly, Osferth leans back over you and gives you a sultry, deep kiss, one of love, adoration, and passion.
“You did so well,” he praises before moving away to get a wet washcloth.
As you wait for him to return, a million thoughts start racing through your mind. You were finding the ending rather anticlimactic. It was over fairly quickly, you think. Is it always so fast? Wasn’t he supposed to spill his seed inside of you? 
You hear Osferth’s footsteps pad quietly back over to you on the worn wooden floors and lay still as he wipes his spend from your stomach. You watch as his eyes, at first focused on his task, flit from your belly to your breasts and then shift downward where you’ve brought your knees up, thighs together. He gently touches your thigh and his eyes flick up to meet yours.
“Sweet one, it is normal for ladies to bleed a little after their first time,” Osferth says with a little trepidation but ever so tenderly. “I do not want you to be alarmed if you did not know. Would you allow me to clean you up?” he asks sincerely, holding up the wet linen cloth. 
You hesitate, this gesture somehow seems much more intimate than what you had just done together. You did, in fact, know that bleeding can occur when the maidenhead tears but you weren’t sure if you had bled. He had been so gentle, aside from the stretching, you hardly had felt any pain.
Slowly, you nod and open your legs a little, feeling self conscious. Will he care if there’s blood? What will he think if there is? You didn’t want him to think less of you or be disgusted by something you couldn’t control. What if you didn’t bleed? Will he think you lied to him about being a virgin?
Osferth folds the cloth over to a clean side and wipes your still sensitive folds, being much more gentle than you would have been. The coolness from the wet cloth feels nice on your slightly sore skin and you allow your knees to fall to the side more, giving him easier access. You watch his face, admiring the profile of his sharp nose and strong jaw while his eyes focus on cleaning your most intimate parts.
You find that you can’t help but ask. “Did I bleed?” you say in barely a whisper, feeling afraid of the answer.
“A little,” Osferth replies, seeming totally unphased. 
“Oh, I- I’m sorry,” fear colors your voice and you attempt to close your legs, to hide the embarrassing sight but Osferth stops you, a frown in between his eyebrows as he looks up at your face and pushes your legs apart again.
“My lady, it is completely natural, please do not be ashamed,” he finishes wiping and then suddenly spreads your legs much wider. Before you can stop him, he leans down and places a kiss right onto your sensitive folds. Your breath catches at the sensation of his lips on your pussy, your eyes widen at the thought of his face down there. Head still between your thighs he looks up at you smugly. 
“We will practice with my mouth another time,” he gives you a sly grin and your eyes pop. Laying the cloth to dry by the fire, he comes back up to snuggle you close, both of you still completely bare. 
You lay in his arms, fingers running through his chest hair as your brain whirls. Your heart feels full; you feel contented, relaxed, and exhilarated that you just had sex for the first time and you feel more connected to Osferth than ever before. You had heard so many horror stories growing up and had been so sure that sex was a horrible and painful experience for all women. But you couldn’t have been more pleased with having the opposite experience. Aside from the little bit of pain as your body welcomed him inside of you for the first time, the stretching quickly grew quite pleasurable and you decided you had enjoyed your first time immensely. 
You muse on all of this as Osferth holds you in his arms and now you feel like you can focus on his bare form. Your fingers slide over his toned pecks, tracing down his abs. Your gaze is level with Osferth’s neck muscles and collarbone and, unable to help yourself, you lean in and kiss his neck, licking at the salty skin and enjoying his taste. Surprised, he pulls away and looks down at you. 
“Can we do it again?” you ask, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
He smirks and makes a humming noise deep in his chest. 
“There is much for us to explore…as long as you are sure you do not feel sore, yes, my lady, we can do it as many times as you like,” he places a sweet kiss on your lips. 
“Osferth?” you ask again, unable to help yourself. 
He raises his eyebrows, staring at you, showing he is listening.
“Why did you not spill inside of me?”
He blinks in surprise. “I would have thought it obvious,” he shifts to look better at you. “My lady, you are so young and already have two small children to care for. I could not bring myself to add the burden of another, especially since we are off to battle again soon,” he states simply and the thought of war momentarily chills the warm air, an icy reminder of what is soon to come.
He continues, “But when you are ready and we are more settled, then I will happily give you my seed, and watch your belly swell with my child, if that is what you wish.” He runs his hand over your flat stomach as if imagining it. 
You nod, complex emotions running through your mind. He is trying to save you from raising another child alone, yet you want nothing more than to possess a piece of him. Should things go badly in battle, you cannot help but feel he should leave a part of himself behind. You lay quietly as he begins gently rubbing your side, conflicted by this sudden intense desire while recognizing the logic behind his words. 
Heat starts to build between your legs again as he continues to absentmindedly rub your back. You give him a sweet kiss on the lips, kissing along his jaw and he moans softly at your tender touch. You boldly nip at the skin of his neck, initiating the second round of lovemaking.
He obliges you, kissing you deeply as your bodies melt together as one again, moving much more quickly than before. He puts you on top this time, grasping your hips and rocking you upon his thick length as he thrusts up into you from below. 
Your orgasm starts to build, spurred by the constant stimulation of your bud along his pubic bone. You can feel your muscles tense as the coiling tension builds within you, driving you higher and higher, filthy words escape from your lips, gone mad with passion or perhaps just crazed with lust; you almost don’t even recognize the sound of your own voice as you exclaim how much you love his cock inside you, how badly you want his seed, how you can’t wait to grow round with his child…As your peak crashes over you once more, your core clenches down on his length and you beg him to finish with you, to not pull out. 
“Oh gods, yes….Osferth, please give it to me,” you scream in ecstasy as you come apart on top of him.
If he is surprised by the brazen words pouring from your mouth, he doesn’t let it show, instead seeming even more aroused by your emphatic display of passion. His breathing is harsh as he thrusts harder and rougher within you, forgetting to be gentle until he stills inside of you with a groan, his thick cock pulsing within your soft velvet walls. 
Coming down from your high, you close your eyes and tilt your head back, moaning ever so softly, “Yes, Osferth, give it all to me,” as you continue to rock gently on top of him, milking his cock as your walls continue to flutter around him. 
He groans again, fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh of your hips and suddenly he flips you over while maintaining your connection, leaning down and capturing your mouth with his own, claiming you with his tongue as you wrap your arms and legs around him, holding him as close as you possibly can until his cock starts to soften inside of you.
You lose count how many times you make love that night and again in the morning before he departs. Your pussy feels deliciously sore, love bites and bruises mottle the skin of your neck and breasts from his lips and teeth. You love the marks he has left upon your body, feeling like they are a silent declaration of his possession, you belong to him now, just as he belongs to you.
In the doorway of your small cabin, you share a deep, passionate kiss with Osferth before he departs, the taste of him lingering on your lips. As you watch him walk down the frozen muddy lane where Finan waits for him with his horse (“My arse is freezing, Baby Monk!” he exclaims, playfully encouraging Osferth to hurry), your hand travels to your lower belly, cradling it, hoping your womb will quicken from his seed, wondering if new life will blossom from the love that you made repeatedly together. Your heart feels heavy, knowing that he faces the brutal uncertainties of battle. But such is the life of a warrior's future wife, a life marked by both love and the ever-present shadow of war. You hope, in time, there will be a place you can finally call “home” with Osferth by your side. 
The End
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Tags: @peonamay @quinnquinn317 @multyfangirl @cyeco13 @aemondsscar @chainsawsangel @boundlessfantasy @bellaisasleep @fan-goddess @pandemonium105 @megatardisbaby @gemini-mama @bcon24 @lexwolfhale @lauzy87 @arcielee @urmomsgirlfriend1 @iscocohere
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melodrama-ticcc · 8 months
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.: 𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 :.
abstract: they’ve been looking to introduce a new female into the family, looks like that girl is you.
warnings: potential stockholm syndrome, cannibalism, mild gore, depictions of delusion and mental illness, maybe this will be a series idk if it will have the demand for it
- - -
she smiles.
not the type of smile a person smiles when they are untroubled.
but the type of smile a person smiles when they are broken. surpassing the final stage of grief and instead reaching a state of acceptance. her countenance showing no signs of discontentment nor pleasure, but equanimity.
it isn’t a loud smile, it’s soft, quiet, but still toothy. fragments of bloodied meat stuck in between her teeth as drool spills from the cusp of her bottom lip. dribbling down in thick pools from her chin. drip, drip, drip. onto the porcelain plate that sat below, tainted with the remnants of meat drippings and fatty juices. like a wild animal who had just finished its first meal in months. her resolve had vanquished in the time spent in that bleak chamber down below. starved of both nutrition and any sense of humaneness. deprived of the basic needs all life requires to live. it seemed as though they had finally done what they’d set out to do all along.
but acceptance, acceptance was a wonderful thing.
the world around her was something out of a picture show. moving slowly, image by image and without noise. the sounds of this newfound kin cheering and demonstrating their contented signs of satisfaction in her actions being drowned out in the overwhelming ringing in her head. they crowded her and corralled her in her seat at the end of the dining table, affectionate hands patting her back and limbs reaching out to hug her. their smiles were wide and sickly twisted. laughter and grins are blurred together in some arcane sense. no thoughts prevailed.
“ knew you’d come ‘round ‘ventually. ”
it’s an echo that makes itself known amongst the idle silence that is her head. it draws her from her cognitions long enough for her to make out his burly figure at the other end of the dining hall. he stares at her with a soft smile, proud. leaning against the wall with such a slovenly, unphased attitude.
“ welcome to the family, doll face.”
it grows. grows into something repulsively ominous. a grin that twitches the apples of her cheeks haphazardly. aching with the agonizing detachment of what her helpless life had become. a monster, she had become a monster.
as she sits there, greeted with the domicile affection and appeased smiles of her now established family. her eyes stare at him. wide and glossy with some degree of fulfillment and carnal satiation. both at home and stray. he’s deplorable in many ways, she thinks. yet at the same time, she was living. and a part of her felt tied to his charismatic demeanor and charming smirk. he cared. in his own demented, abhorrent way, he cared. a part of her could appreciate his cautiously benevolent gestures, and even sympathize with his misfortunes.
“ awww sug’ — lookit! we don’ made’er cry. tears’ve joy those be! ” sissy smiles softly, tenderly wiping the wet from the girl’s face and planting a soft kiss to her forehead. “ bet you’re glad, havin’ me as your big sis’ now. ”
they stream down her cheeks leaving salty streaks against her velvety skin. she can only giggle. she does so quietly. her glazed eyes finally moving to the faces of the family members that surround her. voices becoming clearer, reality no longer fictitious.
it was as though the devil himself had come to tempt her. yet, he was both her captor and only savior.
but by god, did she love him.
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marsbutterfly · 8 months
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Final Mission - Remastered
Summary: The rumbling begins to close in on you and your friends. With very few choices remaining, you have to watch as Hanji makes a decision that will alter the course of your life forever.
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a/n: hello hello!! So ever since part 3 part 1 came out, I decided to start working on rewriting my very first work, for Hanji and for Attack On Titan. This piece has always meant so much to me as it was written with lol sm grief? anyway, I know it's been a while but Hanji pls come back, the kids and I miss you babes.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: attack on titan season 4 part 3 (part 1) spoilers if you haven't watched it yet, angst, blood, established relationship, soulmate loss, a bit of resentment towards tbh everyone if you squint. | ao3 | wattpad | the original | wc: 3.3k
“You could break my heart in two
But when it heals, it beats for you”
��I’m the one who brought everyone here. I killed my comrades to come this far. I’ll take responsibility for it all,” Hanji says, her hands trembling while grasping the thunder spears firmly, eyes filled with terror while a shallow breath fights to leave her lungs. The ground shakes beneath you and a chilling sensation courses down your spine.
You finally find the courage to turn around to face her as she approaches the group, words dying and being reborn in your throat as you struggle to find just the right thing to say, eventually landing on the bleakest yet most desperate request, “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Her footsteps are heavy, contrasting clearly with those of the colossal titans as they march towards you. Her vision is focused on the young, blonde boy ahead of you and you can tell she is trying with all her might to avoid your eyes, afraid of the reaction you might have.
“Armin Arlert,” her voice is gentle, gentler than it has been in a while, almost as if the heavy burden of the world inside the walls has finally lifted from her shoulders and she could actually think straight, “I hereby designate you the 15th Commander of the Scout Regiment.”
The remainder of the words exchanged between the two of them simply echoes in your brain, going from one ear to the other, almost as if they were speaking sheer gibberish. It doesn’t make sense, none of it does. Why is she making him commander when she is still standing right there? Hopefully not for the reasons you are expecting, right? Your thoughts move a thousand times faster than the actual conversation flows.
Your eyes are fixated on the scenery before you, a mixture of feelings coursing through your veins and your heart feels like it has been missing a few beats as an intense void begins to creep from deep inside of you. The situation is not ideal: the colossal titans get closer by the second, the atmosphere becomes hotter with their steam clouding the air and an overwhelming feeling of despair grows in your chest.
You focus on the sound of her voice, the same sound that has brought you so much comfort in the most trying of times now makes no sense, no matter how you look at it. Her face, which has always been your absolute favorite piece of art to ever exist, now contorted into a pained and saddened expression. In fact, it reminded of the way she looked when Erwin announced she would be taking over the Scouts in case he didn’t make it through Shiganshina.
You are finally pulled out of this trance once she begins to move again, this time towards Levi, confused and worrying eyes following her every move carefully as she moves across the brick bridge. From where you stand, you can see the black haired man tightening his left fist, the breeze hitting every so lightly, just barely enough for it to lift his hair and show you that he is sharing a quick glance with you before returning to Hanji.
“Hey, four-eyes,” he says. That’s the first time you have heard him call her those two words since she became commander. He had told you once before he did it out of respect, seeing that she was now his superior, so for him to say it now, in a moment like this, that is when the realization and truth of the moment finally began to dawn on you.
“You understand, right, Levi?” Her voice trembles in the slightest, in a manner that would be unnoticeable to anyone else but you and the man she is speaking to, “my turn has come at last.”
Hanji raises her hands, fingertips trembling and causing the thunder spears to shake, the sweat glistening on her face as her pupils twitch, it’s a sight you hoped to never see. She tries to play her nervousness off, “I’m giddy with the desire to make a supremely cool exit. Don’t stop what I’ve got going.”
For the first time, her eyes meet yours and you realize only then how many tears she was holding back, a quiet sob dying in your throat as you yelp, your body rejecting your brain’s commands to move, legs stuck in place and swallowing has never been this hard.
With a sigh, you hear those three words out of Levi’s mouth, the same words that are now only chanted by a ghost or a distant memory, “Dedicate your heart.” It feels like a punch to the stomach, air can no longer find its way inside your lungs and you choke on your own saliva, there is no denying what is about to happen anymore and the overwhelming sensation that there is nothing you can do to change it overwhelms you.
She smiles and lets out a gentle giggle, “That’s the first time I’ve heard you say that.”
Lastly, she makes her way towards you. The need for oxygen is intense but the very second that her gentle fingertips touch your face, the world seems to stop for a moment and every worry you have ever had dissipates into the feeling.
“I truly hope that you can forgive me one day,” she says and the tears that dangled from her eyes were finally allowed to fall. With a smirk on her lips, she blew on your face so that your hair would move from one spot to the other and the smell of her breath fills you with a sense of nostalgia and despair.
“Please don’t say that,” you whisper, bringing your body closer to hers, “you are the only family I have left. I don’t know where to go without you,” your voice trembles, your throat is as dry as the deserts you’ve heard Armin talk so much about. The tips of your fingers gently twirl a loose strand of hair that falls on her face.
Hanji turns her face at a precise 90 degree angle to look at Levi, a stoic expression on his face though his eyes tell you everything you need to know about his feelings. A tear runs down Hanji’s face, but only one as she won’t allow herself to fully break down until you are out of sight, “Will you take care of her for me?” He doesn’t respond with words, the only thing he does is nod his head in agreement.
Her eyes make their way back to you as she uses both of her hands to carefully cup your face, lips meeting yours with a desperation you had never seen before, almost as if she is trying to engrave you on her own body. Her tongue glides with yours for a couple of seconds and you feel the butterflies rising in your stomach as if it were the first time you have kissed her.
The moment couldn’t have been longer than a few seconds but it felt like forever and a day, your body nearly melting in contact with her touch. For a split moment, you forgot about the rumbling, about Eren, about the sacrifice she was about to make, nothing mattered anymore. Nothing but this very moment the two of you share.
Everything feels ok for a little while, the warmth of her brown eyes reminds you of the many cups of tea you have shared in the barricades, the softness of her touch bringing up memories of times you’ve met under the apple tree in the courtyard, and the gentleness on her lips stirring butterflies in your stomach, much like the very first time you’d seen her.
However it does not last long. You are brought back to reality by the sound of her ODM gear going off, the hook gripping onto the wall and the cold feeling her lips leave behind. Hanji doesn’t give you enough time to stop her, she simply pulls away before you could even react.
She doesn’t say anything. In the years that passed since she became commander, Hanji had been preparing you for the inevitable moment when she passes away, when her turn to make a sacrifice to save your life would come. In that time, you let your guard down, you had convinced yourself something like that would never happen, not to the both of you.
Your eyes are fixated on her every move, every swing of her blade, every flicker of her cape, and there is nothing you can do. Frozen in place, you watch in horror as she manages to take down a few of the colossal titans on their path of destruction. It wasn’t enough. The engineers still need more time.
Trembling hands struggle to find a way onto your blades as a thought goes through your brain, “How can I help her?” By the time you manage to look back up, you catch a glance of a scene that could only be described as your worst nightmare: your beloved’s body, the person you’ve loved most for the past few years, catching on fire as a result of the bodily heat of the colossal titans.
Your heart sinks in your stomach and all you can do is scream. Your feet begin to move as you make up your mind to run and assist them but a pair of strong hands get a hold of your waist before you have time to move forward.
“Reiner, let me go,” you demand, in vain. No matter just how much you kick, or scream, or scratch him, his grip will not loosen and a sense of utter despair fills you. Your throat burns and your vision is blurred out by all the tears, your hands are shaking and there is nothing more you can do.
The last drop was the moment you caught a glimpse of her lifeless, burned to a crisp body falling from the sky like a meteor ready to destroy your life. You had no more fight left in you, no more strength remaining to try and free yourself from Reiner’s arms.
Something inside of your brain begins to slip away, was it your sanity? Or something more personal, like your spirit? No, this was a feeling you had encountered time and time again, expedition after expedition, titan kill after titan kill, hopelessness. Except this time, the feeling was a thousand times worse.
Without her, how would you be able to find Eren and stop the rumbling once and for all? Not only that, but for the first time, probably ever, you questioned her judgment, after all, how could Armin be commander? The boy who was chosen over Erwin, part of the reason why you found yourself in this situation in the first place.
No, there was no use in pointing fingers at each other. If in a situation like this, where life and death walked hand in hand, she chose him, then you would trust her judgment, even if you didn’t agree with it, even if you believed it to be the wrong choice.
Your eyelids grow heavier the closer you get to the plane, the tears have yet to stop running down your face and a full body spread of goosebumps has taken hold of your skin. You manage to take a deep breath before allowing your exhausted body to slip into unconsciousness and, for the last time, you hear her voice.
“I love you.”
The pounding sensation in your head is nearly too much to bear. You squint through closed eyes, slowly using whatever little strength you have left to raise your arm, shielding your face from the far too close sun rays. The atmosphere surrounding the area is so heavy you could cut it with a knife, but a determined Armin breaks free from the awkwardness. “Listen up,” he says, the confidence is his voice masking his true emotions, “Let’s go over the plan.”
Their voices are now a bit louder, the slight turbulence you come across every so often causes the plane to shake and every last bit of metal to scrape against one another. You can hear the sound of a pencil scribbling on the metal floor, but whether it is writing or drawing, you are unable to realize.
As the conversation goes by, your ears begin to ring and your mind can’t help but wonder how long it has been. You take your hand up to your chest, clutching tightly to the fabric that covers the area above your heart, it feels empty, like it has been broken in two and the pieces have been flung out into space.
Has it been seconds? Has it been days? No, while it feels like an eternity has passed, deep down you know that it has only been somewhere between fifteen to thirty minutes. Tears begin to pool up in your eyes once more, that emptiness eating away at your stomach while you choke down a desolate sob. You don’t want to draw attention towards yourself but yet somehow, you find yourself as the center of everyone’s concern.
For a while, no one dares to move, speak or even breathe. You can’t be bothered by their reactions or lack thereof, the pressure on your chest desperately needs to be released. The tears won’t stop flowing, air fails to enter your lungs as heavy hiccups erupt from deep within your soul. The void you feel could only be compared to a bottomless abyss, not knowing when it will end.
Once you have no more tears left, you try your best to use your arms to sit up, cursing yourself for being so weak in the face of such immediate danger. Footsteps approach you and a helping hand finds a comfortable spot on your lower back, gently assisting you in your attempt to sit. You don’t need to see the person’s face to know exactly who it is.
“Mikasa,” you say, not quite sure if it is a question or if anything else is going to follow.
“How are you feeling?” She asks, her voice is raspy and gentle, like she has been doing some crying of her own. You can’t help but smirk, not out of happiness, but because you know they all already have an idea of what your answer is going to be.
“It feels like my heart has just been ripped out of my chest and I had to watch as it burned,” you say and they all immediately understand that you are referring to the condition you were forced to leave Hanji’s body in. It is a stupid question but, for some reason, it does make the aching a tad bit more tolerable.
“Your hand is bleeding,” Armin points out in a serene voice as he walks towards you, his footsteps seem lighter than a feather in an attempt to not spook you away, as if you were a wild, injured little animal, “How did that happen?”
“I cut it,” You respond, dryly. Your lower lip quivers as you open your palm, revealing the smallest piece of green fabric. It is clear from the patter and the design that it came from one of the cloaks owned by the Survey Corps, no extra words are needed for all present to understand that it belonged to their fallen Commander. Though no one desires to talk about it, Reiner decides to take the fall.
“I may not have been so gentle when we were boarding the flying boat,” he says, using his left hand to scratch the back of his neck while the right one holds onto the rail above his head, “I’m sorry, y/n. I should have been more careful.”
You know what he is trying to do. It is clearly a lie and there is no denying any of it, but you appreciate his efforts to remove the attention from the sore subject. You purse your lips in what could be considered a small smile while quietly nodding your head.
“Would you mind if I took a look at it?” Armin asks, kneeling beside you while reaching his hand underneath your own. Perhaps he was right to treat you like a spooked animal, seeing as your immediate reaction was to move your hand far away from him, clinging onto the fabric for dear life as you push your body towards the back of the ship until you collide with the metal wall. “Please.” He begs.
“No,” you cower away, “This is the last part of me to have ever touched her. It doesn’t hurt, in fact, I can barely feel anything anymore.”
Once more he asks, “Please,” and you realize he isn't going to let the subject go. So before too much of your blood has a chance to soak the bit of cloth, you switch it towards your other hand, extending your injured arm until it touches the top of his thighs.
You whimper as a stream of clean water comes in contact with your open skin, dirt debris being washed away by the contents as best as possible. Your eyes never leave his face, the now 15th Commander of the Survey Corps taking care of you, your heart gets heavier the more you think of him in such a manner. His shoulders are slumped forward, as if there is a “not so fictional” weight on them. It doesn’t take long before he is finished bandaging you up.
“I am fully aware it is not the same but,” a masculine voice comes from the front half of the ship, “you still have us.”
Your eyes now meet Levi, whose crossed arms and stern face somehow brings you the slightest amount of comfort. With a helping hand from Connie, you make your way towards him, gently placing yourself between Pieck and the black-haired man, who ever so gently places a comforting hand behind your back. It is rare for him to demonstrate any sort of affection, so by the way his fingers feel against your clothes, you can nearly feel his own grief. Another lump forms in your throat, but you swallowed it this time.
“We’ll make sure that Hanji’s death wasn’t in vain,” Mikasa swears, false determination taking over her words, “We’ll return Eren into his old self, I know he is still in there somewhere, just waiting for us.”
Any sort of emotion gets drained from your face as you stare deep into her eyes, gray orbs looking deeply at you in hopes of any approval of her message. You raise your chin as you cross your legs, bringing your body forward, closer to her. You don’t want to be mean, nor do you want to make her feel like her attempt at comforting you fell into deaf ears, but all present right now know that what she has said is bullshit. 
“Mikasa,” your voice is stern, “do you remember what Annie asked you once in the forest and then again after we attempted to communicate with Floch?” She doesn’t respond but, by the expression on her face, you realize that she knows exactly what you are talking about. With no indication that she plans on acknowledging the subject, you continue, “She asked you if you would ever be able to kill Eren.”
She looks away, gripping her knees tightly. “That won’t be necessary!” Armin says, the nervousness in his voice is palpable as he desperately tries to change the subject while still hoping to provide you with the comfort he knows you need at this moment.
You sigh before continuing, “I know you want to bring him back. I may know that better than anyone else at the moment. But I need you to listen closely as I tell you this,” Your voice is louder than the engines, the tears begin pooling in your eyes once more, you bring the small piece of Hanji’s cloak towards your chest, a determined expression on your face, “There is no bringing him back at this point. He has gone too far. Even if you did bring him back, the remaining world population would kill him with their bare hands.”
“Why are you saying all of this?” Someone asks, though your mind has become nothing but fog so you can’t quite tell whose voice it is at the moment. You take a deep breath, allowing the cold air to fill your burning lungs.
“Because no matter what you all say,” any emotion is drained from your voice, “my final mission is to kill Eren Yeager.”
“If I could do it all again
I know I'd go back to you”
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mistydeyes · 9 months
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summary: You and Kyle are no longer two small kids running around in the flower garden, you've graduated and he's a Sergeant. Despite being each other's childhood love, you haven't spoken in years. What happens when life forces you back together again?
pairing: Gaz x childhood love! fem!Reader
warnings: swearing, alcoholism, mentions of grief/depression
a/n: this is it, we are at the end! thank you to all who have shown this series love and I hope you enjoy :)
🏷️ @the-faceless-bride @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @justmare @crunchlite @sofasoap
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After Kyle's offer to spend the holiday, you stopped responding completely. Something about him saddened you. Whenever you picked up your phone to text, you were overcome by an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. When Kyle went back to university, you politely called his mother. "I know this sounds harsh but please tell Kyle not to visit me, it's too hard to see him right now," you spoke shakily. She tried to protest but you pleaded with her to follow your request. "Okay, Y/N, but please you have to see him sometime," and with that, she hung up the phone.
For the next five years, you would never see Kyle again. In the fall of 2015, you received word that he was graduating. Apparently, he had done so at the top of his class. His parents offered you the opportunity to come but you refused. Instead, you sent a bouquet of mountain laurel (ambition), purple cornflower (strength and health), coronilla (success crowns your wishes), and eucalyptus (protection). Weeks later, he texted saying he missed you and with a thank you for the bouquet. As you saw his smiling face with your bouquet in hand, you couldn't help but feel a piercing sense of sadness.
At the end of the school year, you left sixth form and were granted admission to the prestigious University of Oxford. No one thought you could do it but you were revived by the notification of your acceptance that November. You quietly went through the declaration of a major, deciding on Classics and English. Delilah's parents made sure you had the proper financials to attend and offered to manage the shop and home while you were 2 hours away in Oxford. By now, Lila was 20 and able to fully run the shop on her own. You fought with yourself over this decision before Delilah's parents sat you down and told you that you were going. You trusted them and they pushed you to leave, far away from your small town with shattered memories.
The next three years were uneventful, uni was divided into three terms and you would always return to your empty home during holiday. You took solace when you were at home and went about helping Lila with the store. Lila helped you when you needed her most. She kept you updated as you read your book assignments in your flat and collected the mail for you in your absence. As she promised, whenever you arrived home, there would be a pile of mail waiting for you. You would flip through the junk mail until you always found a postcard or letter addressed to you. Sometimes it was from the Garricks, wishing you well and hoping you would visit Manchester sometime. The other half of the time were letters from Kyle. When you were in sixth form, the letters were angry. He was hurt that you pushed him away and begged for you to talk to him. He asked why you stopped calling and told his mother to never visit. Once you transitioned to Uni, there were letters reminiscing over old memories and some updates on how he was doing. One time, you received a letter saying, "I did it, Y/N. I set a record," and you knew this was about his dream of joining the prestigious SAS. This letter sat on top of another card. Upon your graduation, he sent you a congratulations card with it. Inside it read,
"An old buddy of mine had a sibling graduate from Oxford and I saw your name in the program. Congratulations, flower girl! Just know that my family and your mum are so proud of you. Write me back when you get this!" 
As you read the card, a part of you wanted to reply. You even went too far as to rummage some old stationery from your mum's room. However, when you went to write something on the page, you couldn't bring yourself to. And so in a vicious cycle, you always told yourself you would write or text back but the letters kept piling up in a drawer. Eventually, 4 years passed and you were home again, a degree and the forgotten pile of letters waiting for you.
In all reality, your Classics and English degree just offered you a distraction. You know we're working full-time to expand your mother's business. Both you and Lila had expanded to primarily online orders and offered shipping overseas. Your mother would be proud to see what a businesswoman you were.
That May you were helping Lila prepare a large order for a baby shower. You threw around baby's breath and wisterias for everlasting love and a welcoming invitation. She fashioned a crown out of the stems and presented it to you. "For my queen of the flowers," she said and you let out a hearty laugh. Lila had become like your older sister these last few years as was the only one who made you laugh like this. "Why thank you, madame," you said and bowed in return. As you began to clean up, you noticed your phone had lit up with a new voicemail. You leaned over and saw it was from Kyle. You could feel your face grow pale at the icon.
"Um Lila, I'll be right back," you said before pushing the backdoor open. You felt the warm afternoon sun on your face as you stared at your phone. You wrestled with the idea of answering it. Based on his last few correspondences, he was pleading for an answer but respected your wishes to not see him until you were ready. You sighed as you clicked the voicemail box.
"You have 1 NEW MESSAGE. Hey, Y/N it's been a while," you could hear him start to say. He sounded older, no longer having the squeaky voice like before. You couldn't imagine what he looked like now. "I know you said to give you time but I just wanted to call, it's been like what? Five years now. Anyways, I don't know what you've been up to or if this is even still your number but I'm back indefinitely. I'll be working in London so just call if you want to meet up. I could even come out to the country for some lemonade. I miss you and," you listened attentively to the last three words. "I love you."
You were a coward. Despite his message, you never responded. Just like the letters, seeing Kyle was too difficult. It was an insurmountable feat. You thought too much time had passed since you last spoke and he was a completely different person now. You drank yourself to sleep as you tried to force all memory of him out of your mind. Kyle deserved the best, better than you and your sad life could ever offer him. He left you another voicemail that you never listened to.
In October, you invited Lila over for some wine and butternut squash soup. You both formed a routine of weekly dinners and drinks. Eventually, you both settled up on the couch to flip the channels. News broke of the attack at Piccadilly later that evening. You both sat discussing plans for the upcoming autumn collection when you were interrupted by an emergency broadcast.
"What the hell?" you said as your eyes began to read the words on the screen. it notified the public of a situation at the Piccadilly Circus in London and your heart sank.
"Oh my god, all those people," Lila said and clasped her hands tightly together. Your ears started to ring as you remembered, Kyle, Kyle is in SAS, Kyle is in the SAS unit in London, KYLE IS IN LONDON. You fumbled for your phone as Lila spoke but you couldn't hear her. I have to make some calls.
You ran into the kitchen, leaving voicemail upon voicemail for him but to no avail. You silently cursed to yourself for never to returning his calls or letters. What if he was there? What if he got caught in the ensuing attack? Your mind flooded with worry as you dialed his mother. When she picked up you shouted, "Is he okay?" "We don't know dear but we'll keep you updated," she said and in the background, you could hear her husband attempting to find their son through emergency services. "I know we haven't spoken in a while," you swallowed, "but if you hear from him, tell him that I love him."
That night you couldn't sleep. You checked your phone constantly in hopes of receiving any good news. Around midnight, your phone buzzed with a text. It was from Kyle's dad, "His captain says he is safe but he's been reassigned, says we won't be hearing from him anytime soon." You sighed in relief but the text was cryptic. As you lay in bed, you wondered where the hell Kyle was going.
Weeks passed as London recovered, you checked the news constantly for updates and talked to Kyle's parents daily. Apparently, it wasn't a surprise to not hear from him for months on end. You felt guilty as you wished you stayed in touch for their sake. In all these years, you forgot that he was their son too and they had both lost their parents.
While they returned to civilian life, you were wracked with guilt as you plucked flowers from the greenhouse. This was your newest addition to the home and it housed flowers that were difficult to harvest in the fall and winter months. As you gently cut delicate periwinkles and daffodils and added them to the basket, you sighed at the blossoming petals. You picked a periwinkle and crushed it in your hand. With your hand sticky with syrup and pollen, you let out a few tears. As they mixed with the sickly blue color of the crushed petals, you silently begged the universe to bring Kyle home. You would trade all of this- all your flowers and the shop, just to have him home safe in his parent's arms.
It was early December and you were managing the shop alone. Lila had gone on holiday with her family and you worked tirelessly to prepare for the upcoming festivities. It was warm in your store as you turned the sign signaling you were closed for the day. You went to the back to prepare some orders for the next day and hummed a carol as you worked. Just as you bunched another wreath together, you could hear the door's bell chime. "Sorry I don't know if you saw the sign, but we're closed," you said, emerging from the back room. When you saw who it was, you almost dropped the pine leaves in your hand.
"Long time no see," he said and you saw him, it was Kyle. It was him, aged five years, looking tall and broader than you remembered him. Stubble adorned his face as his lips curved into a smile. You eyed his bruised knuckles and scarred forearms, taking in every piece of him.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, cautiously. "Do you want the long or the short version?" he replied and took a step towards you. Soon, he was standing in front of you, a hand gently placed on your cheek. He looked at you and you nodded silently agreeing to his actions. You softened to his touch as he placed his other hand on your waist.
"Either," you breathed in the small space you found yourself in. "Well, the short version is that I needed to do two things. The first is to pick up a wreath for my mother, and the second is because I've wasted too much time not doing this." Before you could reply, he leaned down and you felt his soft lips on yours. Your eyes widened upon the sensation, tasting hints of hot chocolate on his tongue. He moved his hands to your back and pulled you into him. You quickly found yourself holding his biceps, feeling how strong he had gotten during all this time.
When you parted, you still maintained the embrace. You looked into his eyes, he was searching yours for a response. “I need a second,” you said as you rushed back into the prep room. Tears rolled down your face as your mind was clouded with a mix of emotions. Unlike when you left Kyle with a dying Nana, he followed you. “Y/N, talk to me,” he begged as you collapsed against a refrigerator holding cut flowers. “Why did you come here, Kyle?” you asked through tears, he joined you and held your hand as he explained. “I told you already,” he said softly but you wouldn’t accept that answer. “Why did you really come here?” you pleaded.
“I came here because I’ve loved you ever since I was a kid. I knew I loved you when you shoved your bouquet in my hands and explained to me every single one. I loved you when you caught me with your sticky hands and stuck marigolds in my hair. I tried to tell you when it was your birthday and I made that cake for you. I even dated someone who reminded me of you because I thought you only saw me as a friend. I spent the last 5 years trying to move on but whenever I fell asleep I would always dream of you smiling at me from a garden we planted together,” he said and your tears continued to fall as he described all the moments he was hopelessly falling for you. You couldn’t fathom how blind you both had been for all those years. Silence filled the air as Kyle held your hands tightly and you avoided his gaze. Finally, you found the strength to speak.
"I'm sorry," you began to say. "You're sorry?" he said confused, "Did I do something wrong?" You shook your head as you tried to escape his grip. "No, I'm sorry we grew apart. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry I didn't go to your graduation and spend the holidays with you. I'm sorry for letting go," you whispered. You were ashamed to look at him and tried to leave his piercing gaze. He let go of you slightly, only to hold your chin to look up at him. "I'm sorry for leaving," he whispered back, "I learned a lot while I was gone. I lost good friends, I'm not letting another one get away," he finished before giving you a small kiss. You were speechless, a whirlwind of happy and melancholy emotions. Before Kyle could respond with concern you spoke for him. "Dogwood blossom, love undiminished by adversity."
"I'll do you one better," he said before pulling out a phlox blossom from his pocket. "Phlox, our souls are united." After two decades, you finally were able to kiss him, your Kyle, the neighborhood boy with marigolds in his hair.
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
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qdbs-writes · 1 year
Note
Mortal kombat kabal, fujin, hasashi, and kuai liang react to y/n who can’t die and things like wounds just immidiatly heal, so like y/n (while dating them) just jumps of the roof and lands in front of them and the boys are having a panic attack til there bones start snapping back in place and her neck snaps in place and she just looks up after her jaw pops back into place and just goes “hi :)” not even bothered as the blood goes back into them and wounds close back up, just ignore this if you don’t wanna do it, that’s fine too! have a good day!
MK Lads x Unkillable!Reader Experiencing Bodily Harm
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Kabal
Now Kabal has seen some shit in his time, he's fucked around and found out so to speak. But nothing could prepare him for how you casually mangle your own body for no particular reason other than that you can.
The most egregious incident of your abilities was when Kabal accidentally exploded the kitchen microwave. This would've been bad enough by itself except that the explosion lodged a large piece of metal shrapnel directly into your face, embedding itself several inches into your skull.
You lie there, motionless, bleeding profusely, and all Kabal can do is stare in horror. He's seen you come back from shattered bones, torn limbs, but never something like this. Tears pour silently from his eyes, crumbling to the floor to weep before you jolt into a sitting position, arms moving about animatedly until your hands reach the chunk of metal and slide it delicately from its crevice in your head.
You turn and beam at Kabal, the bleeding canyon in your face reaching from your mouth to your forehead. His tears don't stop even as the vast gash begins to knit itself back together again. Overwhelmed with relief, Kabal could only manage the words: "Babe, what the fuck?".
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Fujin
You would imagine that after living for several thousand millennia, that the gods see a lot of death, in all its many forms. Fujin had been warned away from befriending mortals because one day they would go and leave only grief in their place.
In dating you, Fujin had convinced himself that the eventual grief would be worth the relatively brief time he got to spend with you in his life. But despite all his efforts, he feared that death would take you from him too soon.
Because of your abilities, Fujin can never fully let go of this fear, as you have literally no sense of self-preservation. You'll dunk your bare hands in boiling water, merrily stroll into oncoming traffic, and even jump off high ledges to save the time of taking the stairs. Regularly your antics have left your body mangled, limp, and twisted, like a ragdoll filled with blood.
No matter how much Fujin cries, pleas, begs for you to be more careful, your wounds heal themselves and once more everything is fine. Seeing you defy death and Darwinism on such a regular basis never quite eases the pain Fujin feels when he sees you get hurt, but he is comforted that death will have to work a lot harder to take you from him.
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Hanzo Hasashi (Scorpion)
I dare say going through Netherrealm and back does a number on someone, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. So Hanzo isn't coming from the best place in terms of dealing with loss or grief. Especially considering the whole dead wife and kid situation.
So I would suggest that despite your powers, don't use them in front of Hanzo, just... Don't. He's seen enough and watching you suffer isn't good for his healing.
It's mostly because he still carries a lot of regret over his actions as Scorpion and even after all his hard work still struggles to leave that part of himself behind. So you can imagine that seeing you take any kind of damage can send him back into an angry vengeful fire demon.
This isn't to say that you can never use your powers, as Hanzo is capable of channeling his rage, particularly in kombat. In those situations, you are at liberty to get your ass kicked as much as you like. But outside of that? Please remember to be mindful of how much Hanzo loves you and that he just wants you to be safe and happy.
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Kuai Liang (Sub Zero)
From a psychological perspective, it would be fair to say that Kuai Liang is a man well-acquainted with pain. With this in mind, you'd assume your abilities would be disturbing for Liang, but instead, he finds a strange sense of peace. He's seen you take deadly hits again and again and you just keep getting back up!
This isn't to say that there haven't been close calls. Liang still has nightmares about the day you asked him to remove the insanely large icicles from the roof of your Arctika home. Liang was busy at the time and didn't go to remove them until after you came back. When he met you outside, he closed the door behind him, sending enough shockwaves through the building to dislodge the largest icicle, which proceeded to plunge directly into the back of your neck and out through your chest, popping your head clean off.
The icicle shatters, your body crumbles, and your severed head rolls lazily toward Liang. He stands frozen, unable to comprehend how the love of his life has just been decapitated in front of him. When he drops to his knees to cradle your head, he almost doesn't see your headless body rise unsteadily before stumbling towards him. In a fit of alarm, he launches your head into the air where your body catches it, holding it over the shoulders when the neck vertebrae snap back into place, your throat and flesh regrowing as well. As the nerves reattach your face lights up and moves again, you smile meaningfully at Liang, who now cowers in front of the door. Needless to say, any hazards you ask Liang to take care of are now immediately dealt with.
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georgiapeach30513 · 1 month
Text
Just Like the Caged Bird, Part 10
Summary: Andy gets jealous
Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  Explicit language, explicit sexual content, sex in a work place, oral sex (F receiving), getting caught, obsession, possession, breeding kink, manipulations, depictions of grief, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.8K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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Andy sighs, removing his fingers from the keyboard. Normally he would have his office door closed, hoping to keep people from bothering him. But not on days that you worked. You are the best kind of distraction. He has to keep twisting his head to look out his door to see you on the phone, or making copies for him.
You brightened up the office whether you realized it or not. Even when you got overwhelmed or confused, and needed to ask him something. And the joy that spreads across your face when he helps you figure something out. You caught up to things quickly, and he wished you didn’t. It would mean more time with him.
You had a need to please him, and you did. Every bit of movement you did felt like it was just for him. And now he gets to see you in pencil skirts, heels, button up blouses, dresses — this is his favorite fantasy. Even when he shouldn’t have been looking at you, he knew you would grow up into the woman you are. And now you were his and he could look at you whenever he damn well pleased.
There were some minor setbacks to get you to him, and he is sorry that his brother had to pass in order for him to have you. What he isn’t sorry for is the fact that he knew you were always his. Jake was always a place holder, but he hated the fact that he had you first. However, you were now slowly coming around, and so reactive to him.
It is incredible to see you listen and obey. The way you longed for his touch, and melted into him. You deserved to be spoiled in ways that no one ever has. Men were always leaving you. Your father was off into oblivion. Your brothers were always leaving for something or other. Jake decided the army was more important than spending time with his wife, and what did it cause him? He hates thinking about his brother like that, but Andy has no intentions of leaving you.
He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t hear your heels clicking towards his office. Placing a hand on the doorframe, you lean into his office with the most beautiful smile. “It’s a bit slow today,” you start talking. Your nickname of Songbird makes even more sense with how melodic you sound.
“You can’t leave for the day.”
“I didn’t want to,” he watches as your hand rubs up and down the door frame, your smile getting larger. “I was wondering if you’d like me to go get us some coffee.”
“There’s a coffee machine in the break room,” he gives you a little smirk, already deciding that yes, he was going to let you go get some coffee. You said ‘us’.
”Yes, but that’s just boring K Cups. Wouldn’t you like a latte? Maybe a shaken espresso?”
“Would that make you happy, sweetheart?” He swears, and you could break his heart from your wide grin. Nodding your head in excitement. You stand up straight in the door, and he gets to see your entire body on display. Your outfit is perfect for him. Hugging every curve of your body. Work got both harder and better because of you. “Fine, surprise me. Nothing too sweet, and no vanilla. Here, let me get you my card.”
“Andy! I wanted to do something nice for you.”
“Then come sit in my lap, and give me a kiss. You’ll have paid me in full,” you may give him a coy smile, shaking your head, but you close the door to go sit on his lap. He grabs ahold of your hips starting a slow grind on him. “I don’t think you realize how much I have wanted you.”
“I have an idea,” you whisper, leaning into his neck. Your dangerous game starts early today. Panting on his neck, while you whisper his name. He plays his games, too. Edging himself so when he does get you he goes harder and deeper than you thought possible. Knowing that even though his cock is hardening under your ass that he won’t act on his primal need to have you.
“Have you thought about my suggestion,” you whimper onto his neck. Pressing open mouth kisses behind the shell of his ear, and he moves you harder. “Don’t change the subject. I took your temp this morning. You’re not ovulating.”
“I don’t know if that works,” answering honestly. Why did he always want to talk about things of this nature while you’re distracted? It’s like you couldn’t fully concentrate on either one, and you would just go with whatever he decided.
“It’s worked for enough people. It’ll work on you,” his words are a bit hard as he thrusts up. Pushing your front onto his desk, and he gets to his knees. Rucking up your skirt. His calloused fingers hook under the expensive thong he had bought you, moving it aside. He buries his face in your wet heat. Tongue lapping up your juices.
Andy begins to kitten lick your clit. Giving the little nub a nip before he paints butterflies on your core with every stroke of his tongue. Fucking your cunt with his thick muscle, and then back to sucking your clit. Back and forth. Pleasuring and stopping. Confusing your body until you're pushing yourself onto his tongue while he kneels behind you.
Fingers gripping onto the edge of the desk, and you search for that release. Using his face and tongue for your enjoyment. Can feel his devilish smirk on your center. You mewl out in pleasure when you glance behind you. Seeing him burrow so deep into your folds you feel like you’re about to explode.
“Mr. Barber?” You push him off you so fast, collapsing onto the floor in front of him, hiding from his partner’s secretary, and Andy stands up. Straightening his tie. Using his hand to wipe off your juices from his face, he clears his throat. “I’m sorry. I’ll knock next time.”
”Janice? This — she’s my girlfriend.”
”I didn’t ask,” the older woman walks out of his office, and Andy looks down at you with a smirk.
He places his thumb along your bottom lip. Rubbing the smooth skin back and forth before pushing it into your mouth, and you suckle the appendage. Staring up at him with wide eyes. “Your cunt’s showing,” you try to shrug away from his thumb so you can right your skirt. “Uh uh. I like the view. Looking all innocent and vulnerable all because someone saw me feasting on that pretty little pussy. It’s new for me, too.”
“But you’re the man,” you mumble of his thumb before he pulls it out of your mouth. Reaching a hand down to you, and you take it. You stand up, and pull down your skirt. “I don’t want people to think I got this job because we’re sleeping together. I don’t want the news here to be that you’re fucking your office manager. You want to be the DA.”
”I’m fucking my girlfriend. I have you here to spend more time with you because I have a busy schedule. And anytime you and I are behind closed doors, how about we make sure to lock it? They see you arrive with me, and leave with me. Honey, what do you think they thought you were? You’re not some bimbo that I use as a fleshlight. Now, here’s my card. Go buy us some coffee. No vanilla.”
“Caramel?” Your mouth turns up in a sheepish grin. With the sun shining through the window, Andy’s hair looks a bit darker. Too often you get glimpses of what your sunshine boy would look like if he was allowed to get older. You decided to quit denying that part of your attraction to Andy is his resemblance to Jake. Was it wrong? Possibly. But it was your life and your conflicting thoughts.
“Sweetheart, surprise me. No vanilla though,” you grab onto his card, and turn away to get a cute little love tap on your ass. Having to stop yourself when you turn around because that was Jake’s favorite move. And the feeling is too familiar, and you wish it was Jake instead.
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Andy’s head lifts up when he hears your giggle. His smile spreads out wide across his face, faltering just a bit when he sees you on the phone animatedly talking to someone as you balance the two coffees in your arms. Pushing into the building. He is almost worried until you give him your warm smile. But it doesn’t stop him from wondering just who you’re talking to.
Bringing him his drink, you give him a quick peck just beside his lips before turning back towards the front, “Yeah, I’ll be home tonight,” he stops his drinking as his steady eyes follow you. Practically glaring as you sit down at your desk. “Okay, but last time you got to choose the movie.”
Fucking Bucky Barnes. Or his little brother. Either way you casually said you were going home tonight. Which was the plan, but you said it so happily. Like you are ready to leave Andy. And all he could think about is the next time that you were going to be with him. Jealousy isn’t the word. He’s angry. His house should be your home, and not some temporary apartment.
You are flirting with Bucky or Steve right in front of him. How could you casually forget all the ways he made you feel? He was just feasting on your juices. He wondered if Bucky knew just how you crumbled before him? What pretty little sounds you made when he filled you up with pleasure, and it was time he filled you up with him.
“Let me ask him. Hold on,” Andy is lost in all the ways he wants to feel himself inside of you, and have Bucky know who you belonged to. Steve knew who you always belonged to, and it was him. “Andy?”
He knew what he had to do. Bucky is getting in the way of what Andy deserved. He waited too long for you. He was patient. Waited on you to be legal and then watched in agony as you fell for Jensen. It was his turn now, and this was the endgame. There is no other option but you and him.
“Andy?”
“Hmm?” He looks up from his hands, staring blankly at you. Still on the damn phone.
“To save time Bucky said he can come pick me up after work.”
“It’s okay,” that is the wrong thing to say as you scrunch up your nose. “I don’t mind driving you back to the apartment,” clear words. That place isn’t your home. He is. “It just means more time with you. And I thought you were going to make me food?”
“You said you had a lot to do with your case. Bucky is just trying to help you out,” of course he is. Bucky is just trying to get in the middle of the greatest thing that has ever happened to him. You rest the phone on your shoulder, giving him a sweet smile, “Remember what I told you I was going to do when we are apart?”
Pictures and video calls would never be the same. It isn’t enough. Only you were enough. But he is beginning to notice when he pushes you too hard the harder you pull away. He’s going to give you this moment even though everything inside him is screaming to wrap you up in his warmth. “I look forward to every part of you,” he answers vaguely. “Fine, tell Bucky he can pick you up.”
“And we're just ordering pizza. You need to stop procrastinating with your work, too. I’m a bad influence,” well that sounds like you didn’t even want him there with you. You need alone time with Bucky. “But if you want to join us, what’s your favorite kind of pizza?”
“Pepperoni and Italian sausage, but you’re right,” you are, but he didn’t didn’t like Bucky. One of these days you would be living completely with Andy, so he supposed it didn’t matter now. But Bucky had to go. You didn’t need guy friends. You should just want Andy. “What are you going to do?”
“I keep telling Bucky we need to watch Neverending Story, but he’s suggesting Hellraiser.”
“Your choice is better,” his choice sounds like a great way to have you clinging to him while you are alone. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book. There is a reason that guy liked to watch horror movies. Childish. Neverending Story is safe. It isn’t scary.
“I knew it! Thanks, Andy. He’ll be here around quitting time to pick me up,” and Andy would make sure that Bucky knew exactly how affected you are by him. It isn’t much but it would have to do. You’d just have to learn that if you were going to that dumb apartment, he would leave a mark. Or a few.
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Andy takes a quick look at his watch, noting the time and how it is almost time for Bucky to collect you. If he is going to have to be away from you then he’d make sure you kept a part of him, and also felt him the entire time you were away from him. He could already feel your supple skin under his fingers. It’s a feeling he would never grow tire of.
He says your name, and like the sweet and shy girl you are, you stand up quickly and saunter into his office, “Lock the door,” his voice is so low and deep you almost don’t hear it. His intentions are clear in what he wants, so you do as you're told, but hesitate locking the door.
“Bucky will be here soon.”
“I know. And you’re talking is delaying our time. Better hurry, my beautiful sweet, Songbird,” your eyes flutter shut as you lock the door, and slowly glide towards Andy. He holds up a hand for you, pulling you closer to the chair he’s sitting on. Bending over, his mouth presses right into the sensitive shell of your ear, and his thumb rubs over your hand.
You feel yourself going into that space. Completely trusting and full of lust, “I need to get you a car. We’ll do that next weekend.”
“Too soon,” is all you manage to get out as Andy stands, towering over you. His thumb is still tracing circles on you as he pushes you back onto the desk. Dropping your hand to ruck up your skirt. Yanking down your panties so fast, and he stuffs them in his pocket, “Andy.”
“If you’re going to be away from me, I need to remember you. And you’re going to remember me,” stretching out his fingers, he lays his hand flat on your belly. Rubbing over your soft skin before dipping lower. He creates gentle circles on your clit with his thumb, his fingers remaining splayed out on your belly. He bends over your spread body, and you’re forced to keep your legs wide to accommodate his body as he grinds into you.
“You and I are the real deal. And you were worth the wait. I’ll continue to wait on you and the right timing for you. But you said you didn’t want birth control. Do you trust me?” His free hand grabs yours, and he begins to paint circles with his thumb. That motion that relaxes you, and makes your thoughts immediately go to your husband. The current situation mixes with your favorite memories. Andy’s slacks create a delicious friction on your core. And you move back to him for a now.
Your eyes are a black pool of lust. Pupils blown out wide and letting him know the animalistic pull you have for him. You want a home and a family. You want to trust him. You want a simple life. You want to scream and run. You want to be held tightly and have someone tell you everything okay. You want someone to tell you that your feelings are valid. And you’re so fucking scared. Scared to lose. Scared to be alone. Scared of disappointing anyone. And that’s all you have been doing. You want to trust, and there’s a tiny piece that doesn’t.
“Songbird, you look so beautiful like this,” he whispers into your ear, kissing that spot just behind it, and he starts undoing his pants. “I need you so much right now. Trust me. Please.”
An engrained feeling spurts up your throat and you nod your head, “I trust you,” you choke out. Immediately you feel his silky steel rod crash into your warmth without warning. Your back arches up off the desk, and he pounds into you with more force than he ever has before. Implanting himself deep into your core, and demanding that you remember him when he’s not around. “Andy, they’ll hear,” you try to keep your words even and steady, but they’re a pathetic breathy tone.
JJ never pushed into you this hard. It’s a punishing pleasure. You shouldn’t have entertained Andy for this long. Much less this far. And yet, you couldn’t stay away. Your mind and body playing a game of what you want and what you need, and you are tired of fighting.
His hands grip onto your hips so tightly, and his body ruts into you with so much force you see stars. Juices spew out around him, and you dare to peek. Lifting up to see the severe stretch he’s causing you.
Watching as he impales your body. Keeping you full and filled with him. Having to grab onto his arms to brace yourself with each pounding thrust. “I will have every part of you. Every bit, okay?”
“Yes,” you mewl up at him. Your eyes glassed over in pleasure as you feel your tummy heat up. Everything is overwhelming. Andy is intense in more than his motions. Giving a gleeful smile when he hears a door close out front, but all you see is his handsome face. “Andy,” you’re able to bumble out. “Andy.”
It’s just so much. Too much. Flashes of moments when JJ acted like this. Squinting your eyes you see your beautiful sunshine boy. You were supposed to have beautiful babies with that man, and you got dog tags, and his rings. Everything is flying in your mind as you start to lose control. Moments in time blurring with the present.
Wanting the past. Fearing the future. Overwhelmed by the present. What was the right choice? Would he hate you? Does he know that you sometimes saw JJ in him? Did he know how much you missed your husband and what was supposed to be? Did he know you had yours and JJ’s life planned out to perfection and now you’ll never get it with him?
Your fingers dig into his forearms as he races for the finish. Cooing something down to you, but you can’t see. You just see Jake. You feel him. You smell his cologne. You miss him so much, and this moment is transforming, and you can’t stop the words from spewing out. “I want your babies,” you croak out, swallowing deeply before saying his name. Your voice is hardly audible. Andy doesn’t even hear them words that spewed out of your mouth.
“What’s that? What?”
More feelings rushing into your chest as those deep blue eyes look into your soul, “I — I…Andy,” you got his name right, and the words dissipate back into your throat. He isn’t JJ, and you don’t love him like that. You hope you can. And fear that you will.
“I need you to trust me,” he crashes into your one more time. Your walls cling tight to his girth as his warm seed spurts into your belly, and you yelp up at him. “You’re not ovulating,” he says breathlessly. Pressing a hand on your belly again. Nobody had ever had that part of you, and you’re left feeling overwhelmed. The fear never edges away, but only increases as you process what just transpired. “It’s too soon anyways. But I want this with you. I’ve always wanted it with you. Okay?”
You nod your head at him, still unsure of what to feel. “I’ve always wanted you. Even when I shouldn’t,” he pulls himself out of you slowly. Using his fingers to paint your swollen cunt with his spunk. “I just keep seeing moments of us really trying for a family. I need you to want what I want. Be on the same team. I’d give us a good life. You’d never want for anything. I’d get along with your brothers, I would make myself do that for you. Can you,” his fingers stuff themselves inside of you, and you wince. “Do you want that?”
“I don’t know,” his mouth goes flat, and he finally looks up from your center. “Andy this is a lot all at once.”
“He’s never coming back. Don’t chase a ghost.”
“I’m not,” your voice comes out harsh, and you push his fingers away from you. Sitting up on the desk, and you glare at him. “I love him. Still. That is your brother. And you’re clouding my brain with your perfectness, and I’m getting bombarded with — memories, and I can’t decipher what is here and now, and what was then. Just stop. It’s so much. And I can’t…it’s like I can’t breathe.”
“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” you scoff. Standing up to pull your skirt down. “I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”
“Andy, you’re making this much more serious than I’m ready to make it right now. I’m learning to grow and move forward. But…I need some space to not allow him to seep through,” those were the wrong words. But Andy doesn’t get angry, he looks hurt.
“When — who did you see just now? Me or him? Are you envisioning having sex with my baby brother when I’m the one that’s fucking you?”
“Not on purpose.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? I’m giving you every bit of me. Every bit that I didn’t give Laurie. I never loved her like I do you. I didn’t even want kids with her because they were never going to be yours. And then you tell me that while I have fantasies of you swollen with our first child, and your rings shining in the light that you saw Jake. How do you think that makes me feel? All I have on my mind is you, and…our future.”
Your anger softens a bit as you stare up into his eyes. Trying to figure out what to say, but you can’t think of anything. You shouldn’t have visions of Jake when you had this man inside of you. He has changed his life and wants you to be part of it. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”
“I want you to not do it again. It’s like what you feel for me is nothing compared to what I feel for you,” he’s right. And you’re ashamed of yourself. And scared. So so scared. A knock on the door makes you flinch.
“You…finished?” Oh god. It’s Bucky, and you get so embarrassed. Cheeks heating up as you feel Andy trickling out of you. You cover your face with your hands as you wonder how much Bucky heard.
“Yeah,” you call to him, and turn back to Andy, pressing a hand over his heart. “Andy, I’m sorry.”
“Can you not sleep with him then?”
“I don’t,” that’s an odd request. Currently you’ve only had sex with two people, and the second was right in front of you.
“You fall asleep with him. Just for me. Can you just sleep on your own? If you want someone to sleep with I can stay there. I just think…”
“You’re right,” you respond quickly. Wanting to change the subject, and get out of here. The air and tension is too thick, and you feel like you’re drowning. You can’t even get your thoughts working because of it. “I will sleep on my own,” you would try to.
“I’ll walk you out to the car,” his hand presses on the small of your back, and he walks you into the foyer. Smirking and nodding to Bucky. Your roommate looks more at you than at Andy. Silvery blue eyes raking over your features. How long had he even been outside of Andy’s office? “Make sure you take care of my girlfriend, Barnes. Songbird, I look forward to your texts later tonight,” he gives you a wink as he opens the door to the truck, and even buckles you in.
“I’ll miss you,” he says, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple as Bucky gets into the driver seat.
“Miss you, too,” you respond. Waiting for him to close the door, and your vision goes blurry. Staring out the window blankly when Bucky begins a slow roll to the highway. What just happened? And how did you feel? And why were there always questions?
”Does he follow you in the bathroom, too?” You try to replay the last thirty minutes in your head, still unable to focus on anything. “Peach? You okay?” Andy is much more intense than Jake. Did you even see the thermometer this morning? Andy had always checked before you had fully awakened. What did it read? Did he even tell you?
“You guys got into an argument?”
“Disagreement,” you answer quickly. Too many thoughts in your head. Too many. You weren’t ready. “Is there a drugstore that sells the morning after pill?”
“Did he make you do something you didn’t want to do?” Did he? What a strange question. You remember what you whispered, but was that for JJ’s ghost? Why were you still hanging on to the past? It had been a year, but you were told grief is different for everyone. “Peach?”
“I don’t think so,” you shake your head, unable to go to that place. “I just want to be careful. Are there side effects? Will Andy know?”
“You’re scaring me.”
You were scaring yourself. But one thing was for sure, you weren’t ready. “Will he know if I took something?” Your heart is racing as you realize what happened. You weren’t ready to think about kids with anyone but Jake. You feel like Andy was all over you. Like he was leaking out onto the truck seat. “Pull over. Bucky, I’m going to throw up.”
Looking into his mirrors, he pulls the truck over, and you jump out. Hurling your lunch onto the side of the road, and the tears don’t stop. You are so scared. Why? Why is fear the only thing that is oozing throughout your body? It’s all you feel right now. He’d leave you if he found out. Did Jake leave you because you couldn’t have his kids? Why couldn’t you at least have had a part of him with you.
Standing up you look at the sky, screaming out everything inside of you before Bucky pulls you into his arms. He didn’t expect anything in return. He is just there to offer any comfort as the tears block you from seeing anything. “I’m so tired.”
“I know you are, sweetheart. What do you need me to do?”
“I need the morning after pill, but will he know?” With mascara stained cheeks you look up at Bucky hoping for a miracle. Needing a specific answer, and no more questions. The questions had your thoughts racing too fast to sort through. Like driving in the snow and each snowflake is your thoughts. They were coming at you at such a rapid speed you missed things.
“No, he won’t. Come on, order us a pizza, and we’ll get ice cream, too,” you can tell he wants to prod, but thinks better of it, and you’ll be forever grateful to him. You want to take the hottest shower, and remove the traces of Andy. You didn’t hate him, but the feeling of him still there is making you queasy.
“Can we DoorDash it while I shower?” You don’t have to say more, but Bucky understands. Nodding his head is his only answer, and he leads you back to the truck. Clenching his jaw as he wonders just exactly what transpired behind that door. He’s gathered enough. And what he really wants to do is pound in Andy’s face. He cracks his neck trying to make the thoughts go away. They weren’t good for his recovery.
But right now Bucky wants to hit everything. He wants to make someone pay for the mess they made you. And that someone is him. Andy Barber. He’s now become more than an irritation. He’s become an enemy.
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pedropascalsx · 4 months
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The Silence. {Joel Miller x F! Reader.}
Summary: Joel lets the silence speak for him.
Warnings: Smut, P in V sex, Feelings. I don’t really know. It’s not explicit sex! But it’s happening.
Word Count: 615
A/N: I really tried with this one. I don’t think I was able to write it the way I wanted, but I tried. I hope y’all enjoy. I am trying to get back into writing again but it’s so hard.
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His breath lingers on your neck, a thin layer of moisture that the cold air finds with ease, sending a shiver down your spine as he works tirelessly to overwhelm your senses.
One of his hands is holding your jaw, keeping you a few inches from his face as the other one grips harshly on your hip. You broke one of his rules today, and he doesn’t trust that you won’t break another. So he keeps you away, while keeping you as close as he can.
He had been gone for too long, searching for supplies that at the very least would stop your stomachs growling and your throats burning from lack of hydration for a few hours.
They came back and dumped the supplies on the table, barely enough to go around, but they’d make it work. They always did.
Joel could feel the way your eyes burned into him from across the table, as the room was growing louder and louder with the sound of hushed voices. New jobs and responsibilities for the week were handed out, but you just stared at him, not caring who could catch you. Your heart clenched as you took in the newest cut littering his tired but handsome face. It was deep, clearly a few days old but still weeping and the surrounding skin red and raised.
He wanted to yell at you for staring, for watching him and not paying attention to your surroundings but he couldn’t. The second you were alone the anger disappeared as was replaced by need.
And now here you are. Being held so firmly in his grasp, one that you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. His cock shredding up against something devastating inside of you, knocking the wind from your lungs and erasing every thought in your head that isn’t of him.
You force your eyes open and capture the moment he loosens the harsh grip his teeth has on his bottom lip. The soft skin now swollen, stretched and still threatening to split from the pressure it had endured.
That pressure holding back words that he’d rather let himself choke on than say, not because it doesn’t feel them, but because the world around him is ending, and with those words come promises that he simply can’t fulfil.
People aren’t living anymore, everyone merely survives and most days he doesn’t understand why they bother. He doesn’t see any point in this eternal state of misery. Not until he sees you.
He doesn’t vocalise his feelings for you, he doesn’t show affection, even his lips are out of bounds, but he gives you what he can.
With every snap of his hips, every grunt, every swipe of his tongue and thrust of his fingers; he is giving you everything he has left. Even if it's just a momentary escape from your reality, being shielded in the safety of his arms, receiving his undivided attention and silently being gifted the parts of him that haven’t been drowned by grief.
His fingernails burrow into the skin of your hips, as you mumble his name. A wave of pleasure coursing through your body as your core clamps down around him so tightly that it makes him groan.
You always saviour this moment, the one where he’s entirely yours.
Because in a few minutes he’ll pull out of your heat and coat your skin with pleasure of his own. He’ll then place a fleeting kiss on your forehead and leave, before he can say something he won’t be able to take back, and you’ll wait patiently for him to return to you in the coming days.
Yqou’ll wait patiently for the silence, the one that allows his body to speak so loudly.
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greeenchrysanthemums · 3 months
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I like Gem and Etho’s dynamics in their videos a lot and I love how you have them intertwined as sibling-like relationship in your au. (We need more of Gem and Etho fics lmao) That being said, have you ever thought of how Gem and Etho first meet after years of being apart? Obviously Gem wouldn’t have recognise Etho (like you said), but how did Etho recognise her? Was it an instant recognition at first sight? Or was it the little details like the way she acts and speaks that made Etho link the connection with the little girl in his memories? Or did Etho only made the connection after the small talks where Gem had mentioned about him?
I’m also curious of when, where and how they meet. Was it in the middle of Gem’s mission when she was dealing with another resistance matter? A casual patrol on the streets? Or was it during her break time/vacation/after work where it’s just Gem being Gem needing some time away from the stress, wandering aimless searching for interesting shops and finds Mumbo and Etho being goofy with their customers?
I’m sorry if I have overwhelmed you with too many questions 😅 feel free to ignore the ask if you don’t want to answer.
(Pssst. Btw if you haven’t thought about it, may I propose adding wither rose twin Fwhip to the narrative? Like a bonus Easter eggs of some sort. Maybe Gem enter Mumbo and Etho’s shop cuz Fwhip needs redstone stuff and request Gem to do the errands after her knight duties? Of course, if you already have things planned, I’ll like to read the notes/snippets!)
Hello! First of all, yes, we need more Gem and Etho fics! I do love their dynamic. Second, do not even worry about all the questions! I enjoy receiving them greatly. 💚
As for your questions, I actually have a mini-fic written for how they meet again! I won't spoil it too much, as I plan to post it sometime soon, but they meet on one of Gem's off days while she is shopping.
For Gem, part of the reason she wouldn't recognize Etho is because she was so young when he left. She was only 8 years old, so it makes sense that her memories of him would be blurry at best. Etho, on the other hand, was already a teenager at the time the time of his departure. His memory of her would be much sharper, if a little bit hazy.
That doesn't mean he recognized her immediately, though. On that day, when she wandered into his shop by coincidence, he had a nagging feeling of nostalgia the entire time they talked, but he couldn't quite place her face. It didn't click for him until she had taken her leave. Stood in the doorway, she had smiled at him in the same way she used to as a child while she said her goodbyes and thanked him for his time.
He was almost knocked over by the amount of grief he felt when he realized who she was and what she had become. He now, admittedly, does his best to avoid her when she comes around. He knows it's wrong to avoid her like that, almost cruel given how close they used to be, but he just can't face her. He feels responsible for the path that she took, and he feels like he failed the little girl from his memories.
The only person he's ever told about his connection to Gem is Mumbo, and he has sworn the other man to secrecy. He doesn't want the bond they once shared to be exploited, even if it would probably make things easier for the resistance. He failed her once; he doesn't want to do it again.
And for that last bit, I have considered adding other Empires or Hermitcraft members to this au many times, but I have ultimately decided against it. This au is primarily inspired by the life series and I didn't want to dilute the character pool too much.
However, they may still appear as side characters eventually or be mentioned as easter eggs! I think I love them too much to leave them out entirely.
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