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#and then feeling will's hand dissolve in hers. and not knowing where he went or how to help him
givehimthemedicine · 2 years
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never forget El isn't just touchy feely as a random personality trait, she's spent most of her developmentally critical years horribly starved of touch and warmth and love :)
and every moment of physical comfort she receives is precious to her as an antidote to some specific moment in her past when she suffered the lack of it :) and you can also see the shadow of her traumas in the ways she thinks to give physical comfort :)
and also don't forget that her trauma didn't end with the lab :) when we first meet her her traumas are drawn from lab days but by later seasons it's clear some of the traumas guiding her behavior are just... the show :) such as the crushing pressure of everyone counting on her to find Will :)
and if I spend more than 2 seconds thinking about what any simple little moment of closeness/physical affection/comfort must mean to El I will start sobbing and never stop :)
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eggonthemoon · 2 months
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Alien Stage Round 6 Character Analysis and Lyrics Breakdown
Okay so obviously spoilers, don't click Keep Reading if you haven't watched Round 6.
God fuck it's so fucking beautiful, where do I start?
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I don't even know what is going on with those rapid shots of what I assume is some form of experiment that Till was involved in. I have no clue what the goal was or if it succeeded but somehow (for no real reason other than that one image of Luka standing behind Till ominously) I feel that Luka is involved with it.
Was this an attempt by Heperu's (Luka's guardian) rival to make a human capable of going up against Luka? Till being the youngest and Luka being the oldest also means that Till's guardian could have caught on to what Heperu was planning to do with Luka and then start experimenting on humans shortly after and it would still somewhat line up with the timeline.
But I'm getting into conspiracy territory, back to suffering!!
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Allow me, to the tips of your fingers
Allow me, to the ends of your feet
Dissolve me in your gaze
I don't want to let you go
Oh this hurts. Seeing him look so defeated and exhausted, you can tell that even though to the public it's not certain whether Mizi died or not it doesn't matter to him. Because she's still gone away from his world, where he is unable to reach her. He wants to dissolve and die but he also doesn't want to let her go if there is even a sliver of hope that she lives.
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Please, leave me scars
Please, hurt me so that
Not a single drop of me remains
Let me drown in you
The footage that plays to these lyrics really show how defeated he is. He refuses to sing, his passion for the art completely dead and buried. And (his guardian I assume) when someone shoves the fact that Mizi is gone in his face he lashes out and punches one of the aliens near him.
Until these falling stars
Are buried in the blur of time
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However his heart isn't entirely in it and is quickly apprehended.
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He is beyond exhausted and doesn't even protest or put up a fight while (the same alien he punched btw) another alien runs their fingers through his hair.
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On your icy lips
Read my soul
Yes, my soul
He hopes that even if Mizi is dead that her spirit watches over him, seeing his soul and by extension, Him, for all that he is. Every thought and breath until he falls asleep is for Mizi.
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But didn't we already know this is how he'd be like? Time for something juicier~
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Even if your cold words
Carve scars beneath my eyes
May they linger on your tongue
You can break me apart
God this is heart shattering. Even if Till doesn't care for him, even if Till throws hurtful words his way, Ivan will still lie awake at night, cherishing what sliver of attention he is given. It doesn't matter if Till hates him, because as long as he is on Till's mind Ivan is happy. He is entirely in Till's hands, capable of being build up or torn down depending on how much (or how little) he is perceived by him.
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Notice my pain
And mend me right now
To quiet my fears
I'll drown in you
He wants so deeply to be seen by Till, noticed. Till who doesn't let anything hold him down and always picks himself back up became a pillar of hope and strength to Ivan. It didn't matter how or in what context he gets to be seen, so he went out of his way to provoke him just to get Till to look at him even for a moment.
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This was mentioned a while back on VIVINOS Patreon but the entire incident where Mizi and Till got attacked by that hound monster was orchestrated by him. I feel like there is two possible reasons for this depending on when in the timeline this takes place.
Either he wanted to test Till's resolve in hopes of being proven wrong about his courage (after all your hopes can't be dashed on the rocks, if you never had hopes to begin with) only for his obsession to end up growing even stronger than before.
Or he tried to let Till get roughed up enough that he'd be transferred (solitary confinement? emergency room?) somewhere else away from the others at Anakt, so they could escape together.
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But we all know how that turned out.
Either way what Ivan wants isn't freedom, he's long since given up on that. There's no point in his freedom if the person that inspired him to yearn for it isn't by his side. He needs Till there, his very presence to reassure him that no matter what Till won't falter. But he failed to take account of the one thing that weakens Till's resolve.
Mizi.
Mizi is to Till what Till is to Ivan. And so without Mizi in his world Till crumbles. Since Till will only go where Mizi is and Mizi already gave away her heart to someone else, it's impossible for Ivan to be free while keeping Till in his world.
And so he follows him, resigning himself to a life without freedom.
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Sick of these nights to come
To be engulfed in silence
But the distance between them is killing him, and each and every day they come closer to their inevitable doom.
It doesn't matter if they believe the lie the aliens told them, that if they die singing they will be blessed. Because what is the point in that? How can going somewhere far away from the people they love be a blessing?
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In your gaze where I am seen
Consume me
Yes, me
His desires mirror Till's. He wants his soul to be seen by him, recognized for his undying love for him. He wants Till to see that he can give him all that Till yearns for in Mizi and more.
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To this everlasting melody
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Face to face we dance
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And yet Till still refuses to look Ivan in the eyes.
Things get a little unclear but since they aren't shown singing here and there's no flashback to accompany the lyrics, we can assume that at this moment Till most likely gave up on singing.
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With our story
Lost in forever's embrace
I'm not sure if Ivan intended this from the start or if it's a decision he made then and there but one thing is certain. If Till stops singing then that would mean he forfeits, he'll lose. Till has never once given up. Even when he went back for Mizi that night, he never intended to leave her in the first place. But now without her he crumbles.
And Ivan can't let that happen, not like this.
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Moral grey area aside, this scene is so deeply moving to me
And I don't say that in a romantic context, absolutely not. This is something much deeper than just love. This is the culmination of everything they've been through, all those moments lead up to this.
Because this isn't a kiss.
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This is Ivan throwing his life away for Till.
Till was going to loose, the only thing that could overturn that is if his opponent attacks him. The kiss was to distract Till and keep him from catching up to what Ivan was planning.
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Just look at the contrast between their first and second kiss. As soon as the score board shows Till is in the lead, he gives him a gentle peck on the lips. The contrast is stark and full of meaning. This was the genuine kiss, hidden behind a smokescreen of aggressive bravado created from the previous one.
And it worked. Till was completely convinced that Ivan's intentions was to kill him, and he was fully intent on letting him.
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I know a lot of people doubted his intentions. Because he didn't let go of Till's neck the minute he saw their scores, a lot of people assume that this was Ivan trying to drag Till down with him.
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But the minute he coughed up blood what does he do?
He smiles.
and let's Till go.
He's only human. He might know logically that Till has won the match. But emotionally he refuses to let go until he is certain.
Until he knows for a fact that he is the one bleeding and dying he'll keep up his charade.
And then.
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And only then.
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Till truly sees Ivan.
As he dissolves in his gaze.
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ichorai · 6 months
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weave ; coriolanus snow.
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pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; there was a rose in his hand, you realized. white, just like the one he gave to you when he first met your parents. but it wasn’t for you, since he had yet to hand it over— you figured it was for lucy gray. you would’ve thought it was sweet of him, if only you hadn’t been aware of his motivations to gain her trust. still, you’d be a hypocrite if you criticized him for it. you’d also brought something for your tribute.
words ; 6.8k
themes ; mild fluff/angst, action
warnings / includes ; themes of classism, violence/injury, lucky flickerman is a close family friend of reader's, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3
a/n ; there will be a fourth part loosely following the events of the movie (obv tweaked for the fic!)
series masterlist. main masterlist.
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It was humiliating, how nervous he was. Reaping day. The Plinth prize was just a whisper away—he could nearly taste it: phantom traces of rich chocolate and edible gold on his dry tongue.
The day before the exams, you’d pulled him into the library for one last study session. You whispered that you would botch one of your papers for him—he certainly needed the Plinth prize more than you. And though he knew that you’d be far more deserving of it (your grades were near impeccable, and impossible for him to try and compete with), he also knew that his pride wouldn’t ever recover from such a blow.
Because how could he face you after that? Knowing that he was… inferior?
And so he told you not to squander your own achievements for him—that he’d figure something out. You spared him a hesitant look, before turning back to your books. 
Now that the exams were over and done with, Coriolanus briefly wondered if you went ahead and botched it anyway. An irrational sort of anger flared within his chest. Did you think you were better than him? That he was your charity case?
But all those terrible thoughts—the nastiness sweltering in his chest for days after the exams—dissolved almost immediately after seeing you. 
You met him in front of the academy, your dress a lovely shade of crimson, angular at your shoulders but tapering down into flowing ripples below your waist. Like fire, almost. You were glowing, he was sure of it, with the way the sun illuminated only the best of your features—the slope of your nose, the curling of your lips, the glimmer in your eyes. 
“Coriolanus,” you greeted with faux formality, tilting your head to the side. He was wearing his dress shirt again—the very one you watched Tigris mend and sew and tinker many, many times. Pinned to his waistcoat was another red rose, matching the shade of your own attire. 
He mirrored you, sweeping into a low bow and brandishing another rose out of seemingly nowhere. “For you, darling. Grandma’am said she could spare it—special occasion and all.”
“Oh, don’t call me that,” you said, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous pet name. It was what your parents called each other when they thought nobody was around to hear it—it made you feel old. “And tell Grandma’am thank you. It’s beautiful.”
He smiled, stepping forward to slot the rose behind your ear. “Ready for your Plinth prize?” he asked, fingers lingering by your face, thumb stroking down your jaw.
You sucked in a breath. “I don’t think it’s going to be what either of us expect.” 
There was a brief pause. Coriolanus’ eyes narrowed. Had you botched your exams for him? 
With a pointed glance to the academy halls, you nudged him forward. “Come on. Everyone’s already inside. Clemmie keeps asking for you.”
The two of you made your way in, weaving between red-uniformed academy students (the ones who weren’t at the very top) and professors. Behind another set of double doors were where all the top-ranking students were mingling. Sipping on bubbling glasses of colorful drinks, picking off delicate foods from ceramic plates. 
While Snow was stolen away from you by a few other classmate acquaintances, Sejanus was the first to greet you, shaking your hand enthusiastically. His palms were sweating. You didn’t quite mind. “Congratulations on finishing exams, Y/N. I know how hard you’ve been studying.”
You flashed him a genuine smile. “Congrats to you, too. I’m surprised you’re here at all, actually. I know how you feel about the reaping.”
His expression faltered. “Ma made me come. Moral support for my friends, and all.”
Ma. The word sounded foreign and heavy on the tongue. Unfamiliar… but rather inviting. Homely, in a way. Despite your initial silence, you managed to recover just fine. In a lowered voice, you whispered to him, “Well, my mother thinks it’s a rather dreadful affair. A waste of potential talent, sending children to their deaths, she says. I can’t help but agree with her. Father thinks it’s necessary, though.”
Sejanus pursed his lips. No doubt questioning the necessity of watching the people he knew from his childhood in the district getting brutally murdered. It looked like he was going to say something else, but before he could, Arachne’s high-pitched voice cut through the two of you. You grimaced, catching Coriolanus’ eyes as he stood right behind her. Judging by his mildly annoyed countenance, he wasn’t having a very good time chatting to her, either.
“Spill it, Sejanus,” she demanded in a prissy tone. “Who won the prize?”
The dark curls on Sejanus’ head shook as he silently scoffed. “Oh, no, I’m not going to ruin my father’s big day. No one here actually likes him but they do love his money… you know what that’s like, don’t you, Arachne?”
Her nose wrinkled in part-contempt, part-disgust. “Funny,” she deadpanned. 
Coriolanus stepped around her so he could curl an arm over your waist. “We all know who’s going to win it, anyway.” His grip squeezed over the smooth fabric of your dress. 
Arachne rolled her eyes and marched away, off to find someone else to bother. 
Left with just the two of you, Sejanus dipped his head and muttered, “Look, I know you guys have had high hopes for this but… there’s no prize. Not anymore.”
There was a terse pause. Your head reared back incredulously, searching Sejanus’ expression for any signs of fibbing. Then you looked to Coriolanus, eyes wide. 
“What?” he asked, words sharp, looking almost offended.
“I’m so sorry—”
Before Sejanus could finish his sentence, loud trumpets echoed throughout the hall and all the students began making their way to the plush velvet seats laid out in front of the podium. Coriolanus’ hand slipped away from you, balling into a tight, pale fist. You sat down first, Sejanus going on your right, Coriolanus to your left. Clemensia was on his other side, flashing you an attractive smile. You couldn’t find it in you to smile back.
If there was no prize, what were they going to dole out instead? A free holiday, all expenses paid? A new television? A pair of fuzzy socks?
Your rather prickly thoughts were interrupted when a woman stepped up behind the podium. She was dressed in lavish plum robes, intricate beige patterns weaving through the threads. From afar, it looked like there was flesh stitched onto the fabric. Her hair was greyed and a calculated sort of haphazard. One of her eyes was beady and blue, the other dark and large, almost eclipsing any of the white bits. 
She tapped the microphone once, earning herself a buzz of feedback, and tittered with unnerving laughter. Volumnia Gaul was what she introduced herself as. Her voice was low and gravelly. When she went on to say that she was the head gamemaker, your and Coriolanus' heads both snapped to Sejanus, but his gaze was fixed onto the ground, face grim.
After a bit more faddering about the future, Dr. Gaul introduced the creator of the games and dean of the academy—Casca Highbottom. He sauntered forward from somewhere within the seats, mind very clearly addled with a drug of some sorts. Morphling, you’d wager.
“I can’t believe they still allow him to speak in public,” Clemensia said to Coriolanus amusedly. He didn’t spare her a response.
He dragged on his little speech, as if he took pleasure in dangling the golden carrot in front of the donkey. Your hands twitched in an antsy fashion, and you neatly folded them over your lap.
“My own twenty-four top prospects. All waiting to hear the results of your hard studying in this prestigious institution, eager to know who’s won that Plinth prize, no doubt. And a golden future, with it.” He catered forward with a slurred laugh. “However… I’m here to tell you all that there’s been a change this year.”
Murmurs rippled throughout the crowd. Coriolanus’ chin lifted higher, back straightening.
“One last assignment to prove your worth,” Highbottom continued on. He began to pace back and forth, reminiscent to that of a caged tiger. “The esteemed citizens of the Capitol simply aren’t watching anymore. And if the games are to continue at all, there must be an audience, no?”
More murmuring. Your eyes narrowed. Twenty-four top students… twenty-four tributes… 
Oh, no.
You sucked in a quiet, barely noticeable inhale with the realization. It was enough for Coriolanus’ eyes to land on you, but you were staring at Sejanus, as if trying to get him to hear your thoughts. 
Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me we won’t have to play a hand in such a barbaric game.
“Head gamemaker Dr. Gaul has stepped in to… incentivize patriotic values with her own unique flair, starting with you. The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades.” 
For a moment, Highbottom’s gaze drifted over to you. Somewhere behind you, you could hear Arachne’s affronted, “Excuse me?”
You weren’t quite sure why she was upset. It’s not like she had a chance with the prize if it were grade-based.
“Instead, it will be decided by who is the best mentor in the hunger games.”
Your jaw clenched. Clemensia appeared bewildered. Coriolanus looked shaken. Sejanus was visibly distraught.
“As the reaping begins, I will allocate each one of the top twenty-four Capitol students a district tribute. A figure behind the scenes—one who must persuade them to perform for the cameras.”
This was met by a barrage of questions and protests from the students. Highbottom waved most of them away.
“Your role is to turn these children into spectacles. Not survivors… victory in the games is only one of the considerations. Your entire future rests on this last project.”
It was a terrible thing to imagine. Two dozen district lives in exchange for a bit of cruel entertainment for the Capitol. You were never fond of it, but you kept quiet on the matter because you had the luxury of turning your head away. Turning the television off and straying away from such brutalities. 
But now that you were being forced to look—no, more than that—you were being forced to pull strings, it was altogether a nauseating thought.
“Oh, and I must warn you… anyone caught cheating to give their tributes an unfair advantage…” Highbottom’s spectacled eyes swept over the lot of students. “Well, they’d just have no future at all.”
More trumpets rang throughout the hall. 
The Dean clapped his hands together. “Here we go! Let the reaping ceremony begin!”
Two large screens hanging over the podium lit up for the first district—a tall boy on the left, a sallow-faced girl on the right. Dean Highbottom began to list off student names as mentors. 
To none of your surprise, Sejanus got the male tribute from district two. Coriolanus shot him a thinly-veiled, wry smile over your shoulder. “You got the pick of the litter.”
Sejanus refused to meet his gaze. “You forget… I’m part of the litter.”
On the names rattled—districts three, four, five, six, and seven all passing by in a blur. 
Juno Phipps was called out for district eight’s male tribute. She sat somewhere behind you, and you could hear her puff a sigh of disappointment.
Then your name came straight after. 
Your head snapped from Highbottom to the screen, eyes widening. 
Wovey, her name was. She was a small little thing—you could see her frail, skeletal figure even through a grainy screen from afar. The striped dress she wore was patchy and frayed, darkened with soot and dirt. How old was she? She was probably one of the youngest tributes yet—you’d guess that she was barely thirteen, maybe even twelve. Something in your stomach jolted. Momentarily, you’d forgotten that this little girl was meant to be your school project.
District eight. The textiles sector. You blinked at the screen and shifted uncomfortably in your expensive-tailored dress—a dress that very likely came from the very same district. 
Highbottom called out names for the next district. Clemensia was pleased with her large, burly tribute from the eleventh district. Coriolanus was yet to be mentioned. You glanced over at him, before reaching out to take his hand. He didn’t look at you, but squeezed your palm in what you read to be silent gratitude.
And finally—with only one tribute left, Highbottom coughed out what sounded to be a laugh. “The runt girl from district twelve… she belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”
The grip he had on your hand tightened until it was bordering on painful. You said nothing about it. Highbottom had always been a grouchy man, but he seemed to have a fixation on making Coriolanus’ life as tormentable as possible. 
Lucy Gray Baird.
You watched the screen in fascination when a woman sauntered out from the ranks. Her hair was dark and curly, unruly in a way that suited her perfectly. Upon further scrutiny, you noticed small wildflowers woven through the strands, limp with time. She wore makeup, which wasn’t something you often saw in tributes. A deep blue eyeshadow and slightly-smudged rouge on her cheeks and lips. But what really caught your attention, however, was the dress she was wearing. It was a startling contrast to her name—with its bright, colorful ruffles on her skirt, the front of her corset bearing lovely details of flowers and vines. 
She was beautiful.
“What is that dress?” sneered Arachne, in an obvious attempt to rile Coriolanus up. “Is she some sort of clown?”
But suddenly, Lucy Gray stepped out of her path towards the stage and grabbed a girl to her right. Or, more accurately, the girl’s collar. She promptly dropped something down her dress and hurried off. Screams erupted from the screen as the girl writhed with terror, screaming for someone to, “Get it out! Get it out!”
Coriolanus stood abruptly, letting your hand go. You hadn’t noticed just how much feeling you’d lost in your arm, and gingerly shook it back to life.
The grainy screen showed a small snake skitter out of the bottom of her dress. 
When Lucy Gray finally made it up on the stage, she was harshly struck across the face by district twelve’s mayor. The blow made her head crack to the side and she went tumbling down. You frowned, but couldn’t take your eyes away. 
It took two peacekeepers to haul the furious mayor away. You mutely realized that the girl was the mayor’s daughter. 
Lucy Gray laid there, face aching. 
And then—singing. A small voice from within the crowd. Five seconds later, another joined. And another, and another. Even through the screen, when Lucy Gray tilted her bruised face up and struggled back onto her feet, you could see the pain in her eyes. Was that her family singing for her?
The woman made her way to the microphone. She began to sing with a quivering lip. Her voice was soft and smooth, silken to your ears.
“She’s singing?” Arachne commented in a pinched tone. “Is she out of her mind?”
“Shut up, Arachne,” you turned to snap at her. She made a strangled noise in the back of her throat, but didn’t say anything else, to your relief.
Coriolanus watched the screen with unsettled eyes. A million thoughts rushed through his mind at once. Most unpleasant, many rageful, some curious. 
And to bring her singing to a sudden halt, Lucy Gray screamed into the microphone. 
“YOU CAN KISS MY ASS!” 
The students burst into laughter, incredulous gasps, and scandalized murmurs. Coriolanus glanced around. He met your eyes, and you gave him half an amused smile. His tribute knew how to put on a show, that was for sure. 
He smiled back, and turned to the screen once more.
Lucy Gray lowered herself into a deep bow for the audience. District and Capitol alike. 
What an intriguing girl, you thought.
“She’s mentally ill,” Arachne buzzed. 
It took every bit of your willpower not to turn around and strike her across the face. But you thought back to the furious mayor, and of the little girl you were supposed to mentor, and kept your hands folded neatly over your lap.
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You found yourself at the Snow penthouse that night. There was nothing to study, not anymore, so you lounged on a rickety chair and watched Tigris sew together pieces of blue fabric. She wanted to make you a dress, and though you had more than enough of your own, you couldn’t ever say no to her. Being around her took your mind off of the games, even for just a few minutes.
Coriolanus, however, was pacing back and forth in front of the two of you. Muttering angrily under his breath, nose twitching with disdain.
“He’s sabotaging us. That girl’s never going to win the games,” he hissed, plucking the rose off of his waistcoat and tugging at its petals. They fluttered down to the floor. “You saw her, didn’t you? She’s underfed. Unstable.”
Pot, meet kettle. 
You pursed your lips. “Highbottom said you’re meant to make a performance out of them. It isn’t just about winning.”
“Everything is about winning!” he asserted, carding a frustrated hand through his flaxen tresses. “If not the games, then the crowd. And Lucy Gray won’t survive a minute inside that arena.”
You sighed. Little Wovey didn’t seem too likely to survive, either. She wasn’t a fighter by any means. Maybe she was a fast runner? 
“So that means we have to make every second before then count.” Coriolanus reached out to cup your face, and you leaned into his touch, kissing his palm. Tigris shot the two of you a side glance and smiled to herself.
“What’re you planning?” you asked. 
“I’ll make her sing again,” he said, sounding so sure of himself.
This made Tigris’ brows cinch together. “I wouldn’t sing a note for you if I was her. I wouldn’t do anything at all… not unless I knew I could trust you.”
Coriolanus regarded his cousin with a cynical stare. “She’s district, Tigris. She knows we hate her and she wants us dead. How am I supposed to get her to trust me?”
“We?” you echoed, shaking your head. “I don’t hate her. I don’t even know her. Do you?”
“I—”
You lifted up a hand, effectively cutting him off. “Do you know her, Coriolanus?”
His jaw set with a click. You had your answer.
“How can you hate someone you don’t know? Look, you don’t have to like her. Just convince her that you do.” You crossed your arms, thinking of the little girl you were meant to mentor. It was going to be hard to like her, anyway, knowing that she was going to die soon. You wouldn’t let yourself get attached.
Tigris nodded emphatically. She paused her needlework and looked up at her cousin. “Imagine it was your name they pulled, and you were ripped from your home. I’d just want to know if somebody still cared about me out here. Don’t discount her just because she’s district, Coryo. You might have more in common with her than you think.”
Coriolanus plucked the last rose petal from the stem. You watched him with soft eyes, before drawing yourself up to your feet. 
“I think it’s time I head home. My family’s got dinner with the Flickermans tomorrow.” You placed a limp hand on his jaw and kissed his cheek, then drifted down to kiss his shoulder. He smelled distinctly of roses—a fresh sort of musk.
Just as you were about to pull away, he rested his hands on your forearms, rooting you to the same spot. “We should greet them at the station. Show them that they can trust us.”
You searched his face for genuinity. It wasn’t an entirely terrible idea.
“You sure?” you asked. It wasn’t a secret just how uncomfortable Coriolanus was around district folk.
“Yeah. We can… get ahead of the other students. You’re way more approachable than me, anyway. Maybe they’ll like you more,” Snow offered. A part of you wondered what he’d do if you said no. 
The thought of meeting your assigned tribute made your stomach do somersaults. Finally, you nodded. “Okay. I’ll meet you at the station, then?” 
Snow smiled in a charming manner. He dipped forward to slant his lips over yours, and you melted into his touch, almost forgetting that Tigris was there—until she made a noise of disgust and told the two of you, “Eugh! Do that somewhere else, please!”
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Coriolanus was there before you, sticking out like a sore thumb in his academy red against the cold, rusted metals of the train cars. You wore a dark coat over your uniform, trying to look a little more discreet. 
“Are they here yet?” you asked, steps quickening to him. He took your hand and squeezed.
“Anytime now.”
The two of you stood shoulder-to-shoulder as you waited, exchanging light conversation. There was a rose in his hand, you realized. White, just like the one he gave to you when he first met your parents. But it wasn’t for you, since he had yet to hand it over— you figured it was for Lucy Gray. You would’ve thought it was sweet of him, if only you hadn’t been aware of his motivations to gain her trust. Still, you’d be a hypocrite if you criticized him for it. You’d also brought something for your tribute. 
A juice box. Grape. Still cold, beading with condensation.
You wondered if they had juice boxes out in district eight.
Another train rolled to a grueling halt to the track on your left. The cars were due for a good scrubbing, you thought. They were absurdly filthy—you weren’t even sure what its original color was meant to be.
Peacekeepers stepped up, disregarding the two of you, and began yanking the doors open. There were disgruntled noises coming from inside, and a few minutes later, the grey soldiers were pulling out the tributes.
You searched through the small crowd frantically. The boy from 11th—Reaper, you recalled his name was—caught your eye and just about snarled. You tried your best to ignore him.
When you found the little girl, little Wovey, you slipped away from Coriolanus and stepped forward. In your peripheral vision, you spotted him moving towards Lucy Gray.
Wovey was staring at a particularly uninteresting spot on the ground. She had her skinny arms wound around her midriff as if she was cold, despite the warm temperature that morning. When your shadow fell over her, her large, tearful eyes slid up to meet yours. 
“Hello, Wovey,” you whispered in what you hoped was a welcoming, not-at-all-intimidating voice. You told her your name, making sure to enunciate the syllables slowly, so she’d have no problem repeating it back. She didn’t, but perhaps she would later. “I’m your mentor.”
“Mender?” Her voice quaked.
“Mentor. I’ll be helping you in the arena, during the game. Here, I have something for you.” You reached inside your coat, eyeing the peacekeepers warily. Either they didn’t notice, or they were just pretending not to. You wondered how many of them knew your father. “Do you guys have juice boxes back where you live?”
You held out the cold little box for her to take. She blinked at it warily.
“It’s grape,” you said.
She reached out and took it from you. You offered her a gentle smile, and she mirrored you with a shy grin. 
“Can I share it?” she croaked. Wovey looked back at the male tribute from the same district—Bobbin. Were they friends?
“Of course, sweetheart,” you said warmly. 
Sweetheart? Where’d that come from?
The peacekeepers began rounding up the tributes, shoving them in the direction of a truck. You dipped your head at one of the grey soldiers as he took Wovey’s arm.
“Be gentle with her,” you told the peacekeeper. He met you with a stoic expression, but nodded once, before urging Wovey onward.
It was hard to tear your eyes away from her, but you forced yourself to do so, bounding towards Coriolanus and—
“Lucy Gray,” you greeted, just before saying your own name as you moved to stand beside Snow. Her dress looked even brighter in person, even if it was caked in filth. “I hope Coriolanus hasn’t scared you off yet.”
“Who’s this?” she asked, her dark eyes flitting from Snow to you. “Another mentor?”
“Mmh. Not yours though. I’m dedicated to the little girl from district eight,” you replied. 
There was something in her eyes that softened. 
“You’ll take care of her?” she asked.
You exchanged an uncertain glance with Coriolanus. “I’ll try my best to. Just like my boyfriend here for you.”
“Boyfriend, huh? Y’all make an attractive couple, that’s for sure.” Lucy Gray smiled, wide and genuine. It faded instantaneously once she spotted a peacekeeper approaching. She plucked the rose from Coriolanus’ unsuspecting hands. “Well… good luck with that.”
The soldier grabbed her by the arm and shoved her into the direction of the car.
Coriolanus stepped forward. “Wait, no—I, hey, I’d like to escort my tribute—”
They all ignored him. You pursed your lips, before following behind two of the soldiers, peeking around the bend. The truck’s doors were wide open for you to slip into. Snow met your eyes when you beckoned him over.
“We can sneak in,” you whispered. “When they’re not looking.”
“Are you insane? We don’t know where they’re going!” he responded in a lowered voice, taking your arm, not unsimilar to how the peacekeepers grabbed the tributes. “I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”
“They won’t hurt me,” you told him. It didn’t dawn on you that Coriolanus was referring to the district tributes, not the peacekeepers. Quick and chaste, you pressed a kiss to his lips. “You coming?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. He blew out a frustrated breath, before letting you go and giving you the green light by motioning for you to get a move on. Nerves peaking with adrenaline, you glanced around again, satisfied that no peacekeepers were looking, and rushed into the truck. You felt Coriolanus’ chest brush against your back as he hurried in after you.
You hid in the shadows of the trucks’ slants just as the peacekeepers slammed it shut. A victorious smile stretched your lips thin. You made it.
Oh, your father was going to murder you. Snow first, maybe, and then you. Your mother would probably find the situation all too funny. Though, as you found all the tributes’ eyes locked on you and Coriolanus, you realized that it probably wasn’t funny at all, not in the slightest.
“Hello,” you said in an awfully wavering voice. Coriolanus echoed your sentiment, looking as if he’d seen a ghost.
“What’s the matter, pretty boy?” Reaper asked him with a scowl. “You in the wrong cage?”
“No,” he responded with a minute shrug. “This cage is delightful.”
The truck practically swayed as Reaper stormed closer to him. You instinctively grabbed his forearm, pulling him back. But clearly not quick enough, seeing as Reaper grabbed the lapels of Snow’s academy uniform, shoving him up against the wall with a loud thud. Coriolanus let out an oomf with the impact, blinking sudden white stars out of his vision. 
“I’ll kill you right now!” Reaper hissed. 
“He’ll do it, too,” warned Dill. The girl from his same district. “Reaper killed a peacekeeper back in eleven.”
“I say we kill them both!” another tribute from somewhere behind sneered.
“I’m in. Nothing left to lose now.”
You stood frozen, afraid that one wrong move would send Reaper into a frenzy. Instead, you spoke calm and clear, “We’re here to help.” Your eyes found Lucy Gray’s, then traveled over to Wovey, squeezed in the corner. “We want to help you.”
Crossing her arms, Lucy Gray said, “Y’all got family back home? They’ll kill them if you hurt a hair on their pretty Capitol heads. Then you. ‘Sides… the blonde one’s my mentor. I might need him.”
One of the tributes from district four curled her lip in contempt. “How come you get one?”
“You all get one!” Snow told her, which earned him another enraged shove by Reaper.
She guffawed—Coral, yes, that was her name—with incredulity. “What, and we’re just supposed to believe you?”
“Why else would we get in here with you?” you said, exasperated. “We don’t even know where they’re taking you guys.”
Coral cocked a brow so high it nearly disappeared behind her choppy bangs. “Whose mentor are you?”
You limply waved your fingers at Wovey. “District eight’s girl.”
“So how come Skinny and Rainbow get special treatment? Why aren’t my mentors here?” Coral leaned down towards Lucy Gray in a taunting fashion, barely glancing over at Wovey.
Lucy Gray smiled, all toothy. “They just got inspired, I guess.”
A moment later, a loud rumbling came from outside the truck. Had they already arrived? There was a whir, and the whole truck began to tilt downward. The doors swung open and shocked gasps echoed throughout the metal cavern.
Reaper relinquished his grip on Snow to grab hold of Dill, and you launched yourself at Coriolanus, trying your best to grapple onto the grooves in the walls so you wouldn’t slip. Lucy Gray yelled as her foot slipped and she went toppling down—
You grabbed her hand, grunting with the combined weight of two people. Coriolanus’ grip on the wall slipped, and he bumped into you, causing your fingers to fumble.
The three of you went rolling down, out of the truck, back into the blinding sunlight. Your shoulder hit the ground hard, another sharp rock digging painfully into your back. That’d definitely bruise later. Disoriented, you dragged yourself up from the ground, frowning at the stinging sensation in your legs. Coriolanus was next to you the next second, grabbing at your face and arms, asking if you were alright. You nodded a few times, before pushing him away to see if the tributes were okay.
All of them were dizzy and aching, but other than that—seemed just fine. Or, as fine as they could be, given the circumstances.
Only then did you look around your surroundings. Metal fencing, dirt pen, discarded tires—Capitol citizens watching with wide, curious eyes. You caught sight of the Capitol Zoo’s insignia on an ice cream stand just past the fencing. 
“Ugh,” Coriolanus muttered, pale blonde hair properly tousled over his forehead. “What are all these people doing, staring at us? Don’t they have anything better to do? Don’t they have jobs? The children should be in school. It’s no wonder this country is in shambles.”
“The kids are on summer break, Coryo,” you deadpanned, shirking off your dark coat to give it a good dusting. 
Then, a familiar voice made your head snap towards the crowd.
Cameras. Mustache. Coin flip. 
“We’ll just give them a chance to stand up and catch their breath—I do have to admit I’m jealous of that big entrance! I’m Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman, a man who needs no introduction.”
Oh, he certainly didn’t. He and your mother were tight-knit buddies when they went to school together, making the Flickermans good family friends. This was beyond embarrassing.
“Guess where I am today, folks! That’s right, the Capitol Zoo, where this year’s tributes will be held here, on display behind these bars for your viewing pleasure! That’s right, all twenty-four of them—” That was when he turned to point, and his eyes landed on you and Coriolanus. His words faltered. “What in Panem—is that academy rouge I see?”
You stiffly waved at the camera. Absent-mindedly, you passed a hand over your head to fix your hair. 
“Hey, Mr. Flickerman,” you called out with a grimace.
Lucky’s eyes bugged out of his head. He exclaimed your name in part-confusion, part-shock. “Hey, what’re you doing in there, kiddo? Who’s that dashing young man with you? We’re live!” He jutted a thumb back at the camera, its lens facing straight at you.
You spared him a stiff smile, eye twitching. Oh, your father was going to pop a blood vessel, you were sure.
“Uhm… well, uh—” The words caught in your throat and you lowered your voice so only Coriolanus could hear you. You had to ignore Lucky’s constant calls for your attention. “What do we do?”
His blue eyes, even paler in the bright sunlight, roamed over the onlookers. “We do what Highbottom told us to do,” he said, rolling his shoulders. He nudged you in the direction of Wovey, and began setting off for Lucy Gray. “We put on a show.”
You watched as the two, mentor and tribute, made their way to the fencing. As if there was a flip of a switch inside him, Coriolanus began to charm the onlookers and children, showing off his pearly whites, introducing himself and his rambunctious tribute. The children were enamoured with Lucy Gray, it seemed, judging by the way they bubbled over with questions about the snake, her colorful dress, her singing.
Lucky was having the time of his life interviewing them. If not for the current situation at hand—that being you trapped in a zoo enclosure—you would’ve laughed at his earnest excitement. Being a weatherman, a reporter, and an amateur-magician was apparently growing far too monotonous for someone with as large a personality as Lucretius Flickerman.
After much deliberation and cheek-biting, you turned and made your way toward Wovey, who was sitting down next to Bobbin on a tree stump. You noted the purple juice box, now crumpled and empty, discarded on the ground between them.
“Hey, guys,” you said, lowering down to one knee to speak to Wovey. “Do you want to go introduce yourself, sweetheart? Win over the Capitol citizens’ hearts?”
The young girl screwed up her face. Whether it was from shyness or distaste, you weren’t quite sure. Perhaps both. 
“I’ll be there with you. I promise,” you told her, holding your palm out for her to take.
Tentative, Wovey slipped off of the stump and clutched onto your hand. The two of you approached the barriers, with her nearly hiding behind you, clutching onto your coat.
Lucy Gray told the growing audience about her Covey family, a group of traveling musicians, and how she wasn’t actually from district twelve. Snow watched her with a somewhat proud, victorious expression. 
Lucky noticed you approaching, beckoning for the cameras to follow him as he made his way over to you. 
Quickly, he covered the top of the mic to lean forward and whisper, “Is the academy aware of what you’re doing?”
“No. Nobody told us not to, though.”
Lucky regarded you knowingly. “And does your father know about this little escapade of yours?”
“No,” you replied, frown-smiling. 
“Ooh. Good luck with that.” He spared you an amused wince. Then, he uncovered the microphone and gave the cameras another brilliant smile, introducing you with a flourish of his hands. “I’m here with a close personal friend of mine, Y/N L/N. And here we have their tribute, yes? Who might you be, young lady?”
You tried your best to encourage Wovey out of her shyness, going so far as to pat her shoulder and to gently push back the thin strands of hair falling in front of her face. She croaked out her name and her district, and Lucky asked her another myriad of overwhelming questions.
Whilst the crowd around the ever-charming Lucy Gray was watching her with curiosity and awe, the audience you were gathering looked upon Wovey with pity and something mildly akin to empathy.
There were perks to getting the youngest tribute, maybe. 
 She was telling them about how she liked to climb trees back in district eight. Yes, that’d be useful in the games. 
You looked over to see Coriolanus observing you with your tribute. He gave you a nod, perhaps a second too late. The man found himself wondering if he could somehow garner the crowd’s sympathy using Lucy Gray, too. How’d you manage to do that?
Before he could spare another thought on the matter, there was a dim buzzing coming from across the enclosure. A door opened, and four peacekeepers marched in.
“Looks like you’re going to get whisked away, kiddo,” Lucky told you, nodding behind. “Tell your mother I said hello. And make sure to take a nice, long shower before dinner tonight. Don’t want the smell of zoo hovering over my steak.”
You rolled your eyes as Lucky chuckled at his own quips, then looked down at Wovey with a far softer expression.
“I’ll be back. I’ll come back with more for you. Just hold on for me, okay?”
The frail girl nodded. She didn’t seem to want to let go of you, even when the peacekeepers began to semi-forcefully lead you away, out of the enclosure. Coriolanus wasn’t far behind, being manhandled far more aggressively than you were. 
The soldiers shoved you out the door and shut it with a heavy click of a lock, before marching off to the sides.
Coriolanus reached out for you, hands resting on your elbows. “How was it?”
“Could’ve gone worse.” You studied his features. There was a faint trace of dirt smudged across his jaw—no doubt acquired somewhere in the truck or when everyone came tumbling out. 
The two of you stared at each other for a moment longer, until you shook your head and broke into a smile, accompanied by a breathy laugh.
“Lucky called you a dashing young man.”
“He’s ridiculous,” he scoffed, and tugged you along to start walking. “Do you think either of us have a chance? At winning?”
The smile melted off your expression, and you grew somber once more. “Well… anything can happen in the arena. We just need to be smart about it. Neither of our tributes are fighters.”
Coriolanus stared off into the distance, brows cinched, heavy with thought. 
“They’ll need to be,” he said. “Surviving isn’t enough. Not in these games.”
Your lips parted, wondering what in Panem he could mean by that. Did he really expect Lucy Gray to become a killer overnight? Or was he planning for her to do something else? He didn’t seem to notice your perturbed disposition, and kissed the side of your head. 
Just as Coriolanus walked you to your doorstep, you gripped his hands, and your tone suddenly became very serious.
“I just wanted to tell you—before Highbottom announced the mentoring change, I was sure one of us would win the Plinth prize. And, well, I was going to give you the money if it came to me because I definitely wouldn’t need it. But now, since there’s a good chance neither of us are getting it…”
Snow’s features twisted with evident dismay. 
You squeezed his hands with yours. “I can get my parents to pay your university tuition, if neither of us get that Plinth prize. Please, Coryo, don’t take this as charity. Take it because I care about you. I don’t want you to get caught up in… winning these games. Whatever you’re planning for Lucy Gray… I can’t see it being anything she’d be willing to do.”
It might’ve been a trick of light, but you could’ve sworn you saw an irksome glint flash across his eyes. He bitterly came to the conclusion that you probably did botch one of your exams for him—not that that mattered now. Besides, it was you offering money, not him begging for it. The placating thought made it easier for his features to slip into a reassuring, easy softness. 
“I appreciate the offer, I really do,” Snow said, cradling your face as if you were a fragile piece of china. Yet his touch felt bruising all the same. “But you shouldn’t worry. I don’t think Lucy Gray is going to win. Not on her own, at least. So I’m going to help her—and Highbottom is going to regret ever trying to make an enemy of me.”
He dipped forward, brushed a whisper of a kiss along your cheek, and swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. 
And then he was gone.
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maudeeloise · 7 months
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God i need a part two of Sworn Enemies
The reader tells the whole situation to rhaenyra who is very disappointed that her son denies his own child because of an absurd rumor.
The reader wants her to dissolve the marriage but rhaenyra tells her to make jace beg for the reader's forgiveness and jace does anything for the reader's forgiveness.
I want the reader to be a complete girlboss 💋☝️
Pleas of Pardon || j.v
Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x reader
Warning : none
A/N : soooo… i changed some parts a bit, but the plot is still the same. this is the second part of this
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You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen Jace — not that you were protesting, but a small part of you hoped for him to at least apologize before completely disappearing.
When your family first arranged you to marry Jace, you were left with no choice but to accept. The only hope left in you was for him to spare a chance for the marriage to work, even though you knew it was far too impossible to happen. That hope instantly vanished the same night he departed.
Not a single soul in the kingdom knew where he had gone. You were too ashamed to ask so the best you could do was to eavesdrop the whispers of the servants when you had your morning and evening walks around the castle. It wasn’t your fault, but you couldn’t help but to feel disappointed of yourself.
I failed, you thought to yourself as you pictured how your parents would perceive you once they heard about the rocky marriage you had with Jace.
“Where had the smile I used to know gone?” Rhaenyra asked as she came to sit next to you one afternoon at the staircase. Her eyes were filled with pity. Her smile was small. “I have missed the joyful lady who loved to retelling our people’s myths.”
You shook your head, looking down at your hands as you played with your fingers. “There’s nothing for you to be concerned about. I’m alright.”
“The whole kingdom has heared, don’t you think I haven’t?” Rhaenyra hinted a sad smile.
You shook your head, still avoiding any eye contact with your husband’s mother. “Am I a bad wife?”
Rhaenyra smile instantly fell at your words. “What do you mean? Have you done something?”
“Not that I could remember.” Your vision became blurry as the tears formed in your eyes. “I’ve tried to fix our relationship, but it’s difficult when we both know we loathed each other. I’m sure you’re familiar with that too.”
“The marriage has been done—“
“I figured that it’s best for the marriage to be dissolved.” You looked up to Rhaenyra. Your teary eyes met her surprised ones. “For the sake of ourselves. I’ll leave the land if it is needed, but I’m asking for you to let me raise the baby.”
Rhaenyra’s mouth was agape. She blinked a few times as she processed your request. “I-.” Her gaze moved elsewhere. “I’ll talk to Jace.”
“And the marriage?”
An answer you longed to hear never came as Rhaenyra stood up and left you sitting on the staircase perplexed.
Her name was stuck on the back of your throat. You wanted to call her and made her stop on her track. But instead you let out a sigh in defeat. Your body leaned against the wall weakly. Your hoping eyes stayed at Rhaenyra’s figure as she slowly disappeared behind the walls.
Lost. A word which best described your state. You were so used to having your sister by your side, supporting your needs and guaranteed you the happinnes you deserved. Then when you were on your own, you could only pray to the Gods, hoping for everything to go well, but instead it went the opposite.
Your arms hugged yourself tightly as your body balled against the wall beside you. A symbol of fear and loneliness.
Tears were threatening to fall as your breathing quickened. Your mind rushed with voices, mostly telling yourself how you couldn’t do a simple job and how you should’ve lower your ego.
You held your legs tighter to your chest as you silently sob. The sound of your soft cries echoed through the empty staircase and hallway. You couldn’t careless, you just needed someone.
The voice on your head kept screaming in your head until it hit you. You were on your own. You had no one, but yourself and your infant needed you.
Slowly, you unwrapped your arms from yourself. Your legs stretched out carefully before bringing yourself on your feet. Your fingers grazed across the stone surface of the wall as you walked towards your chambers.
You needed to leave. You needed to run away. You needed to safe yourself for the sake of you and the baby.
You jogged around the room as you collected all the little things that you felt like you needed. All the items were shoved inside her pocket bag.
“What am I missing?” You mumbled to yourself.
Your eyes scanned around the room to bring yourself the answer you needed. They landed on the wine bottle which was standing on your nightstand. A lazy smile danced on your lips before you brought yourself towards the object.
Just as you were about to get your hand on the bottle, the door to your chamber cracked open. Your head spun towards the source of the sound. Your eyes stared in horror at the thought of getting caught in the act. A long shadow of someone walking in to the room made your heart skipped a beat then it stopped when your eyes met his.
Your body froze on it’s place. A look of horror masked your future, but you slowly calmed once you studied his face. His sad eyes and almost pouted lips made you barely recognize the man standing on the other side of the room.
“Jace.” You breathed out.
“Y/N.” He called under his breath.
There was a long pause, each waited for the other to continue, but neither said anything.
Jace knew he was wrong, despite how much he hated you. A small part of him kept telling him to talk to you after that night, but he had to big of an ego, so he chose to avoid you instead of apologizing.
What he didn’t expect was for his mother who loved him dearly to side with her. At that point he knew he had to talk to you. He had to admit that he was wrong. He had to apologize and maybe more or anything else to get you to forgive him.
“I-“ Jace cleared his throat, slightly avoiding your eyes. “What are you doing?”
You furrowed your eyebrows. Anger slowly increased inside you as you feel your heart clenched. Is he bluffing?
“Nothing.” You kept your voice low, trying to control yourself from bursting out at him.
Jace awkwardly nodded before moving his gaze anywhere else but you. He suddenly found the chamber interesting whilst he studied the room.
Something didn’t feel right, he thought.
His eyes saw the small pocket bag on the couch, the cloak on the bed, and how your body kneeled too close to the bottle on the nightstand.
“Are you planning to leave?” Jace asked, his voice was laced with a hint of dejection.
You almost gave in. Almost. The way his face fell and his lips turned down into a frown. How his eyes showed longing and regret. You almost changed your mind.
You inverted your gaze from him slightly and fixed your posture. As you turned to face him, you forced yourself to show no emotion. He needed to know he deserved it.
“And what if I were?” You challenged him.
“You’re taking our baby with you!?” The frequency of his voice hightened, making the sentence sounded more like an accusation than a question.
“That’s not fair.” You whispered. “You accused me of cheating and held to your beliefs that the baby isn’t yours! How dare you include yourself on deciding whether the baby should be with me or not?”
Jace opened and closed his mouth, stopping himself from taking the argument further. He took a deep breath to calm himself.
“My apologies.” You raised an eyebrow. “I shouldn’t have accused you despite how much I hated you. I was too blinded with my emotions and I forgot that you had feelings too. I deserve every second of your loath for the rest of my life, but I’m begging for you to stay. Please, don’t leave. Please don’t take the baby away from me. I’ll do anything, I promise!”
There was a long pause. You looked down at your hands as an excuse to dismiss him from your view. You didn’t say anything, as if you were waiting for him to say more.
“Please say something.” Jace took a step towards you hesitantly.
“I need a moment.” You said shortly without bothering to give him a glance. You stood up and walked past him, leaving your shared chambers.
———————————————————————————
@semisutopia @anehkael @kaiawolf @maddie-jayne @shadowmoonlight0604 @aemondwhoresworld @cedigz
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years
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can I request jealous Wednesday x fem reader? Wednesday gets jealous of Xavier and the reader so she's more passive aggressive than usual and has the urge to pull pranks on Xavier. But when Wednesday sees reader and Xavier painting the reader chases after her
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Summary: Wednesday is reluctant to accept that she’s jealous of your friendship with Xavier until it all comes ahead.
A/n: Also due to the fact of how fucking long I made this fic, I had to relegate pranks (plural) to a singular prank. I rambled a little bit ngl.
Wednesday hated the gut feeling she’d get whenever she saw you and Xavier within extreme close proximity of one another; As though you were trying to fuse into one being with how pressed against one another you were. It felt like she had a stone stuck in her stomach that refused to dissolve and was starting to cause external as well as internal issues the longer it went unresolved. Normally Wednesday viewed herself above expressing emotions should they not provide beneficial results to her in the long run for the remainder of her stay at Nevermore, or everyday life in general.
However it seemed to Wednesday that you were the peculiar exception to this golden rule she had lived by since the passing of her pet scorpion. She felt fluttery in her chest whenever you laughed, her clothed skin burned with the remnants of your accidental touches and she felt most anticipating when she made plans with you after classes. You’ve managed to brought fourth emotions Wednesday long thought she had killed in order of bettering herself whether you were aware of your effect or not.
She hated it, she hated not being in control of her emotions and by that logic, Wednesday should hate you for being the reason for her lack of self control but she didn’t. Instead she directed all her hatred towards Xavier to the point that castration was a considered punishment but knowing how Nevermore operates; Wednesday knew that short of thing would’ve be allowed to fly without repercussions. ‘A pity really,’ she thought to herself as she maintained eye contact with the back of Xavier’s head as he playfully nudged you with his shoulder, ‘a shame even.’
Enid wished she could see the inner workings of Wednesday’s head but with how brutally she was stabbing the lunch table with her blunt knife, she quickly changed her mind in fear of that knife being directed at her next. “Wednesday, remember what we talked about when we get urge to stab something.” Enid spoke hesitantly as she tried to safely remove the knife away from Wednesday’s hand. When it was brought down harder then the previous times, blade lodged deeply within the table that once Wednesday lets go of the handle, the knife however remained standing straight up. Her eyes never departing from you nor Xavier as they blazed with silent fury. “Keep stabbing until it stops moving.” She replied blankly before standing up.
“Hey! Wednesday! Where are you going-“ Enid tried calling out to her friend when her words got caught up in her throat when her eyes followed the direction she was heading; You and Xavier. “Oh no.” Enid whispered as she rushed after Wednesday in hope of preventing someone’s (read: Xavier’s) death. “I do not want to be caught in the midst of a murder today, I just got these clothes recently and blood would not go well with them.” She rambled under her breath as nervousness got the better of her when she finally managed to catch up with Wednesday who was looking straight at you.
“Y/n.”
“Oh shit.” you almost jumped out of your chair at the sudden voice beside you had Xavier not caught you by the shoulders to stabilise you. Giving the boy your thanks you looked to your side of the table to see Wednesday and Enid standing there. “Hey Wednesday! Hey Enid, what’s up? Me and Xavier here were just-“ “I need you to come over to my-“ “our” Enid interrupted, flashing a smile when Wednesday looked at her with almost murderous intent before bringing her attention back to you. “Our dorm,” she shot enid a glare, “to look over some studies that were assigned to us last period.”
“We did?” You questioned as you, Xavier and Enid share a look of confusion as all four of you had last period together and to your recollection, there was no tasked assignment. So either you had shit memory or something else was at hand here that you were oblivious towards. Xavier shrugged his shoulders, “beats me and I tend to pay attention in my classes.” You shoved him by the shoulder as you laughed, “you fucking liar, no you don’t you always end up copying my notes or worse!” Xavier chuckled, extending his hand to pat your sympathetically on the shoulder.
“I make it up to you don’t I?” He asked innocently, making you scoff as you swat away his hand. before bringing his attention to Wednesday who by now has her jaw so tightly clenched behind a deadpan face that she swore she felt some teeth crack under the pressure she was putting them under. “Are you sure we got an assessment Wednesday? Me and y/n here have made plans to go beyond and explore the realms of possibilities of which through art later tonight.” Xavier iterated the last part in a tone he knew would get to you, in the end you couldn’t help but snort as you smacked his shoulder. “Stop talking like that, I’ll think I’ll piss myself.” You croaked through your laughter as you leant against Xavier for support.
“Too much information y/n,” Xavier grimaced but he sucked at keeping it up as his lips cracked into a bigger smile, “just too much information.” Whilst you both were distracted with your laughter, Enid could see that Wednesday was gesturing for something lurking under your table with her head and when she went to angled herself better to see what it was and to her surprise; Thing could be seen unlacing Xavier’s shoelaces before tying them back together again in a fashion that would have him take a personal greeting with the floor before scampering off back to where he came.
Now Enid never pegged Wednesday as the prankster type, considering the fact that she had told her time and time again that she was above such childish shenanigans. Yet here she was, having Thing pull pranks on her behalf all because she was jealous. “You’re right,” Wednesday uncharacteristically admitted, “must’ve got my dates incorrect, how foolish of me.” She then shrugs but before she leaves your table; Wednesday looked back over her shoulder, “Xavier.” She said. “Yeah?” He replied, albeit confused. “Watch your step.” Was all she said before walking away, leaving Enid to hastily bid you both goodbye as she rushed to catching up to her before mouthing something neither of you could decipher.
“What did she meant by that?” Xavier asked as he looked at you, watching the back of Wednesday’s head as she faded from view. “No idea but hearing that come from her? It’s probably not a good thing.” You admitted, sensing that something was off with Wednesday but you knew better then to openly confront a hostile animal. She wouldn’t budge an inch. So you decided that it would be best to let her work through whatever it was that she was going through in her own time. “Well that’s real reassuring.” Xavier said glumly before slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“We better get going before we’re late to herbology class.” He adds as he goes to stand up but as he attempts to move out from his seat; Xavier notices a little too late that his shoes were mysteriously tied together, causing him to trip over himself and fall flat on the floor with a yelp. “Oh my god, Xavier are you alright!” You exclaimed as you scrambled to help him up off of the floor, dusting him down of any dirt that might’ve lingered. “I understood what she meant by that now.” Xavier grimaced in pain. You both ended up being late for class by a couple of minutes due to Xavier stopping to unlace his shoes and tying them back up properly before practically sprinting across Nevermore towards your next lesson.
The next time Wednesday walked in on you and Xavier bonding, it wasn’t until nightfall that she came across the sound of laughter filling the air, growing louder and louder the closer she got to the abandoned shed Xavier had tricked out into an art studio. Her blood still boiled with how at ease Xavier seemed whenever he got physical with you and how you never seem to bask in his affection. She despised her Achilles heel which was you and the illogical thoughts you brought up within her head, causing her to loose rational train of thought and sleep as she now wandered the school grounds late at night in hopes for sleep to greet her. However Wednesday found herself stood outside the shed where she could hear yours and Xavier’s conversation loud and clear.
“You messy pup! Your getting paint on everything except the canvas!” Xavier exclaimed though it was in good nature considering how quick he was to laugh. “We’ll maybe if I had more to go on then the bullshit excuse of ‘painting with my heart.’ Then I wouldn’t be such a messy pup then would I?” You replied, reduced to a laughing fit of your own. It was obvious to Wednesday that you were both having fun, so much fun in fact that she believed that she was the last thing on your mind. You rarely visited her and Enid in their dorm anymore, too busy having Xavier occupying your time. Seemingly possessed by the betrayal she was feeling in that moment, Wednesday forcefully opened the door in time to see Xavier stand a breaths width away from you, holding your face in his hands as his thumb rubs away at some remnants of paint.
His gaze seemed a little too intense for Wednesday’s liking as she took into account of the way he looked at you that same exact way she caught herself looking at you; as though you’ve painted the night sky of which you hung the stars from. Your eyes darted to hers as they widened at the realisation of how this looked to other people but before you could open your mouth to say anything. Wednesday had already slammed the door shut behind her as she left. Xavier knew there was something between you and Wednesday and he wanted to help you in expressing your feelings in a way that didn’t suffocate Wednesday. However it seemed that she might’ve misunderstood this as him making a move on you which couldn’t be further from the truth. “Go after her.” Xavier said, stepping away from you.
“She won’t believe me-“ “well then try to make her believe you.” Xavier stopped you before you could admit defeat. “You like this girl don’t you?” He asked, “of course I do Xavier, I like her very, very much.” You admitted, feeling the tears of frustration well up in the corner of your eyes. Xavier smiled softly as he cross the room to open the door, “Then go get her, tiger.” He urges as he gestured towards the silhouette of Wednesday that was slowly fading away from view the further and further away she got. You smiled at Xander, “thank you.” You said to him before bolting out of the art studio and after Wednesday as fast as your legs could carry you.
“You got this!” You heard Xavier exclaim from behind which only pushed you even further forward as you darted past trees, bushes, the archery range until you could vaguely make out Wednesday making her way to the front of the building that lead up to her dorm in Ophelia Hall. “Wednesday!” You called, uncaring of who you woke up in the process, the only thing that mattered to you was setting things straight. “Wednesday wait, I need to talk to you!” You saw Wednesday stop at the doors and you almost felt like collapsing when you finally caught up to her, leaving heavily on the door as you struggled to filling your lungs with the sufficient amount of oxygen.
“What do you want.” Wednesday snapped. She hadn’t meant to stop but something within her told her that she’d be better off hearing you out. “I’m going to cut the bullshit and get to the point,” you said through gasps, coughing briefly before taking a deep breath, “I like you Wednesday Addams. I like you a lot, I’ve been meaning to find ways of telling you how I feel that wouldn’t overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable. So I’ve taken to asking Xavier for advice because he’s and artist and shit as you know.” Wednesday felt a familiar fluttering in her chest as you continued to explain yourself when all she really cared enough to hear was that you liked her and only did what you did as to not force her out of her comfort zone for you.
So instead of letting you continue your long winded explanation, Wednesday merely grabbed ahold of your shirt, pulling you into her lips as she gave you a chaste kiss before shoving you away slightly. Your wide eyed expression had a smile creep up on Wednesday’s face as she quickly composed herself. “I like you too,” she headed you silently cheer to yourself, “however you can start repaying me for sacrificing our time together by joining me on the astrology tower tomorrow night.” Your eyes widened and your smile stretched across your face. “Like a date, a date date?” Wednesday couldn’t help but scoff at your choice of words before replying, “yes, like a date date.”
3K notes · View notes
peavhyshy · 7 months
Text
𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦 (oneshot)
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Pairing: Sarah Cameron x Reader
Summary: In which you and Sarah share a secret kiss while hanging out alone in your room, complicating both of your relationships with John B.
Warnings: sarah cheats on john b with reader, explicit language, fluff, smut, secret relationship, friends to lovers, this set after ward blew himself up, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, fingering, oral sex, grinding/tribbing, nipple play
Words: 2,617 
a/n: guys is it bad to sleep with your best friend when your boyfriend is being a douche and didn't comfort you after you watched your dad die? but seriously there needs to be more sarah fics on here, y'all sleeping on her
((not proofread because i'm lazy and rereading stuff I write makes me cringe for some reason))
Outer Banks Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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The sun had just set over OBX, casting an orange glow across the sandy beaches. Inside the your families beach house, Sarah lay sprawled across your bed, half-watching some cheesy rom-com on the little TV in your room.
"Ugh, I can't watch this anymore," Sarah groaned, grabbing the remote and flicking through channels aimlessly. She was grateful for you trying to cheer her up after the traumatic events of the past few days, but she just wasn't in the mood for happy endings right now.
You glanced over from where you sat braiding friendship bracelets on the floor. "Yeah, I'm not really feeling it either," you said with a sympathetic smile. You tied off the bracelet and scooted up onto the bed next to Sarah.
Sarah clicked off the TV and flopped back onto the pile of pillows with a dramatic sigh. "I just keep replaying it all in my head, you know? Like maybe if I had done something differently…" Her voice trailed off as she stared up at the ceiling fan swirling above you guys.
You reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "It's not your fault, Sarah. There's nothing you could have done."
Sarah turned her head to look at you, her brown eyes glistening. In the soft glow of the bedside lamp, You looked so beautiful and comforting that Sarah suddenly felt the urge to kiss you. Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned in and pressed her lips to yours.
Your eyes went wide in surprise before slowly closing as you kissed Sarah back tentatively. After a few seconds, you broke apart, blushing wildly.
"Um, wow," you breathed, biting your lip. "So that just happened."
Sarah let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, sorry, I guess I'm just feeling extra emotional and impulsive tonight. I've always thought you were really pretty though." She grinned sheepishly.
You laughed and playfully hit Sarah with a pillow. "Oh so that's how it is, huh? Taking advantage of me in my own bedroom?"
Sarah dramatically flipped her hair. "I mean, can you blame me? Have you seen this hair?"
You both dissolved into giggles, the tension instantly broken. No matter what else was going on in your lives, you always had each other. And maybe this was the beginning of something more.
“What about John B?” you asked, putting the bracelet on Sarah’s hand.
Sarah sighed, twisting the new bracelet around her wrist. "John B…I don't know. He's been so caught up in everything with his dad and the gold, it's like he doesn't even see me anymore. I miss how things used to be between us."
She looked up at you. "But then there's this…" she gestured between you guys. "This connection we have. I've never felt this way about another girl before."
You nodded, a worried crease forming between your brows. "I know what you mean. I care about John B, but I also care about you." you bit your lip. "Maybe we should keep this between us for now? At least until we figure things out.”
Sarah considered it for a moment then nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re probably right. No need to complicate things even more.” She linked her pinky with yours. “This can be our little secret.”
You smiled, hooking your pinky with Sarah’s. “Our secret,” you repeated.
Sarah leaned in conspiratorially. “So should we pick up where we left off before we were so rudely interrupted by your question?” you teased.
You giggled and closed the distance once more, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss.
Sarah lifts your shirt over your head, exposing your bare chest. She runs her hands up your sides, caressing your soft skin as she kisses down your neck. You let out a soft gasp, tangling your fingers in Sarah's blonde hair.
"Sarah…" you breathe out, your heart pounding as Sarah's hands continue to explore your body. You feel a growing heat between your legs, this new intimacy with Sarah awakening desires you never knew you had. Sarah kisses lower, trailing her lips down your collarbone, then takes a hard nipple into her mouth. You moan, arching your back off the bed at the sensation.
Sarah lifts her head to look into your eyes, her own darkened with lust. She reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, then tosses it aside. Sarah sits back on her knees to admire your naked form, a smirk playing on her kiss-swollen lips.
"You're so fucking beautiful," she says throatily before leaning down to capture your lips once more. As your tongues meet, Sarah reaches down to undo the button on your shorts, her hand slipping beneath the waistband. You gasp into Sarah's mouth at the intimate touch, your hips bucking involuntarily. You never felt more alive than in this moment with Sarah, every nerve-ending tingling with anticipation.
Sarah's fingers dip lower, finding slick heat that makes you cry out. She strokes slowly at first, learning what makes you whimper and moan.
As Sarah's fingers work between your legs, you feel pleasure building within your core. Your breathing comes faster, soft moans escaping with each circular stroke of Sarah's fingers over your slick, swollen clit. Your hips rock uncontrollably, pushing yourself against Sarah's hand as your arousal grows.
Sarah watches your face, taking in every flutter of your eyelids, every gasp and whimper. She slides two fingers lower, teasing your entrance before pushing them inside. You cry out at the penetration, panting Sarah's name over and over. Sarah thrusts her fingers slowly at first, then faster as your inner walls clench tight around them.
The coil of tension in your belly winds tighter and tighter until suddenly it snaps, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of euphoria. Your back arches off the bed, a string of curses and Sarah's name on your lips as you come undone.
Sarah pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, her own bright with exhilaration and desire. She runs her fingers through your tousled hair and grins, trailing her hand down your body. She slips her fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts again, raising an eyebrow in question.
You bit your lip and nodded, lifting your hips so Sarah can slide your shorts and underwear off. Sarah tosses them aside, then settles between your parted thighs, kissing a path up your inner leg. You shiver in anticipation, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch. When Sarah's mouth finally finds your pussy, you gasp, your head falling back against the pillows.
Sarah hums in satisfaction at your reaction, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. She uses her tongue to explore your slick folds, quickly finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes you cry out and clutch at the sheets. Sarah focuses her attention there, alternating between broad laps of her tongue and tight circles around your clit.
Your soon panting and writhing beneath her. "Oh god, Sarah…feels so good…" you moan. The coil of tension winds tight once more until you shatter again with a sharp cry, your thighs clamping around Sarah's head as you come. Sarah works you through it with soft licks, not stopping until you go limp with satisfaction.
Your moans fill the room as straddles you and slips off her underwear, your bodies coming together in a tantalizing display of desire. The slickness of your wetness creates friction that sends shivers of pleasure through both of you. Sarah's core radiates heat, igniting a fire within you that can't be quenched.
Your hands greedily explore Sarah's sides, eager to feel every inch of her. You grab onto Sarah's ass, pulling her closer, urging her to grind harder against your throbbing clit. Sarah leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you both breathless. Your tongues dance and entwine, a passionate tango of desire. The taste of your shared arousal fill your mouths, fueling your hunger for each other.
Your hips move in perfect harmony, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Sarah's grinding against your clit, your clits rubbing together in a rhythm that drives you both wild. The wetness between your legs acts as a lubricant, allowing your movements to become even more intense, more intimate.
You arch your back, offering your breasts to Sarah's hungry mouth. Sarah eagerly takes the invitation, capturing a nipple between her lips, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh. The sensation shoots electric sparks of pleasure straight to your core.
With one final, powerful thrust, Sarah's body shudders with pleasure. She cries out, her climax washing over her in a wave of bliss that crashes through her entire being. Her walls clench around nothing but the air, her core pulsating with every release.
Your own release follows closely behind, your body convulsing in waves of pleasure. The intense sensations ripple through you, causing you to grip onto Sarah tightly, your bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace. You both ride out the waves of your orgasms together, matching each other's moans and gasps.
When you finally break apart your both are flushed and beaming. Sarah's fingers gently stroke your face as you kiss languidly, softly.
"Was that okay?" Sarah asks after a moment, suddenly shy.
You smile, pulling Sarah down for another lingering kiss. "More than okay," you assure her. Sarah grins, nuzzling into your neck.
Sarah smiles contentedly and lays her head on on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat as it returns to normal. She feels a sense of peace and belonging that she hasn't felt in a long time. Here with you, away from the chaos and tragedy of the outside world, Sarah can simply be. No expectations, no pretending - just two souls connecting on the most intimate level.
Sarah traces lazy circles on your bare stomach as you lay entwined. She thinks about how rapidly her feelings have shifted - from seeing you only as a friend, to suddenly being unable to resist her. It feels natural though, not scary or confusing like her past crushes on boys. With you it just feels…right.
Eventually your lips find each other again, the kisses growing heated once more. You roll yourselves over so you're the one on top, straddling Sarah's hips. You look down at Sarah with hungry eyes as you slowly grind against her. Sarah gasps at the delicious friction, gripping your hips.
"Now it's my turn," you say in a low voice that sends a jolt of arousal straight between Sarah's legs. You reach down and tugs at the hem of Sarah's shirt. "Take this off."
Sarah complies, pulling her shirt up over her head and tossing it aside. You make quick work of her bra too until Sarah is laid bare before her. Your admiring gaze roams over Sarah's body, making her shiver with anticipation, you capture one of Sarah's nipples between your lips.
Sarah cries out, arching up into your warm mouth. As you lavishes attention on her breasts, Sarah is reduced to a writhing, moaning mess beneath your ministrations. This is even better than she imagined as she lets you take full control. 
You kiss your way down Sarah's trembling body until your mouth replaces your fingers between Sarah's legs. Sarah closes her eyes, crying out your name as a slick tongue explores her slick folds. She reaches down to tangle her fingers in your hair, urgent moans spilling from her lips.
"Y/N, I'm close…" she pants out. The coil of tension winding tighter and tighter within her finally snaps as she comes undone under your tongue.
You take Sarah into your arms. You exchange soft, languid kisses as Sarah catches her breath.
"Wow…" is all Sarah can say, still reeling.
You grin, kissing the tip of her nose. "I'd say we're pretty good at this secret relationship thing so far."
Sarah laughs. "I'd say so too. But we should probably keep practicing, just to be sure." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
You smirk, pulling Sarah in for another deep kiss. "I like the way you think."
Your lips meet again, both of you giddy with the exciting newness of exploring each other. For now, you’re content to stay lost in your little bubble of bliss, putting your troubles aside for a stolen moment of passion and release.
Sarah sighs contentedly, her body still tingling from her intimacy with you. She strokes your hair softly as you lie tangled together on the bed.
After a few peaceful moments, Sarah props herself up on one elbow to look down at you. "Not that I want this to end, but won't your parents be back soon?" she asks.
You glance at the clock on your nightstand and grimaces. "Yeah, probably. As much as I'd love to keep going…" You trail a hand suggestively down Sarah's side.
Sarah shivers at your touch. "Later," she promises with a grin. She gives you one last lingering kiss before reluctantly climbing off the bed to gather her scattered clothes.
As Sarah gets dressed, you sit up and wrap the blanket around yourself. You watch Sarah wistfully, not quite ready to burst this intimate bubble you’ve created. But the approaching sound of a boat motor outside makes the decision for you.
"Coming?" Sarah asks from the bedroom doorway, now fully dressed. Her cheeks are still flushed, lips swollen from kisses.
You sigh. "Yeah, be right there." As Sarah disappears down the hall, you take a moment to collect yourself. You press her fingers to your lips, Sarah's taste still lingering. Your heart flutters thinking about what just transpired between you too.
With a giddy smile, you get up to get dressed. You rejoin Sarah in the living room just as the front door opens and your parents walk in, loaded down with gear from their fishing trip. If they notice your matching blushes and shy glances, they don't say anything.
"Are you staying for dinner, Sarah?" your mom asks as she heads for the kitchen. "I'll throw some fish on the grill."
Sarah catches your eye, an impish look on her face. "I'd love to," she says sweetly. Under the table, she squeezes your hand, your secret.
The you too sat close together on the worn couch in your living room after dinner, shoulders touching. Your parents had retreated outside to the back deck, giving you some privacy. Sarah turned to you, looking into your eyes. She still couldn't believe what had transpired between you too earlier that evening.
"So…that happened," Sarah said with a small smile, cheeks flushing pink.
You nodded, biting your lip. You reached over and gave Sarah's hand a gentle squeeze. "It did. And as crazy as it sounds, it felt…right."
Sarah let out a soft laugh, interlacing your fingers. "I know, I feel the same way! I mean, I never expected this, but being with you just feels so natural."
She glanced down bashfully. "I know things with John B are complicated right now. But he's been pulling away, and you've been there for me. You make me feel safe and happy even during the worst moments."
You lifted Sarah's hand to your lips, kissing it softly. "You deserve to feel safe and happy, Sarah. I'll always be here for you, no matter what happens with John B. And if this-" you gestured between you too "-is something you want to explore, I'm open to it."
Sarah's heart swelled with affection. She leaned in and captured your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss.
"Then let's explore," she murmured against your mouth. You smiled into the kiss, twining your arms around Sarah's neck to pull her closer. 
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407 notes · View notes
wholoveseggs · 15 days
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Hey lovely, today request from me🥰
I got struck on an idea where reader tried to dominate Elijah but always fail so, she get Klaus help with some magical witchy rope or something to subdue him, which was successful.
Tho here's the thing, reader is inexperienced in doing something like that and not prepped enough to take him, cuz y'know Elijah is big.. hehehe😌🤭so she started tear up, and ask for his help. Elijah being a smug he is punish her happily after...can you added a sprinkle of daddy kink and overstimulation, pretty puh-lease with the cherry on top🙏🥺
Oh btw your story always superb 🤩 😁
Bindings
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
You ask Davina for help with creating something to tie up Elijah... only for you to get in way over your head. Luckily, he is in a forgiving mood.
♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I decided to change it from Klaus to Davina, because I just can't see Klaus being okay with you essentially making a weapon against his family... Even if the reason behind it is just for some kinky fun ♡♡
4.9k words - Warnings: smut, *magical* bondage, dom!elijah, daddy!kink, spanking, choking, sex toys and a whole lotta praise...
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You sat in Davina's greenhouse, looking around at all the various plants and flowers the young witch had collected. You had asked Davina to meet up with you to help with a problem, one that was a bit awkward to even say out loud, but you knew that she of all people would understand.
You watched her browse through her books, trying to find the spell you had requested. After a few moments, Davina had found the page and started gathering the items needed.
"Davina?" you said.
She looked up from the table and gave you a curious look. "Yeah?"
"You don't think this is a little crazy? I mean, it's a bit of a long shot."
Davina smiled. "Not at all. I may have.... tried it myself... with Kol," she replied, looking away with a light blush.
Your eyes went wide. "Oh, my God. It worked?"
She shrugged trying to appear cool, but her mischievous grin gave away her answer. You smiled back and the two of you quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles.
After the laughter had calmed down, you looked at her questioningly. "So, how does it work?"
Davina took a seat on the couch next to you and showed you the spell she had found.
"The basic binding is actually quite simple, it's the ingredients that are tricky," she explained, "luckily I have white oak ash, and the rest should be easy to find."
You nodded and listened intently as Davina read through the list of ingredients and their uses. She began by grinding the herbs and mixing them in a bowl, followed by the white oak ash.
Once the mixture was complete, Davina took a long silk rope that you had provided and dipped it in the bowl. She held the rope above the bowl, letting the excess liquid drip off as she chanted the incantation.
"Done," Davina announced, handing you the now-dry rope. "It will keep him bound and unable to break free. You can use it any way you'd like." She grinned, giving you a knowing look.
You couldn't believe how easy it had been, that you were so close to fulfilling a long-held fantasy of yours. "Thank you, Davina. You're the best," you said, pulling her into a hug.
She hugged you back, giggling as she pulled away. "One more thing, if you need to break the spell, just say 'confractus' and it will untie itself,"
You nodded, thanking her again before making your way home, the rope clutched tightly in your hand.
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It was the most expensive piece of clothing you had ever purchased. It wasn't even something you could wear outside your bedroom, but damn, did it make you feel sexy.
The lingerie was a red, sheer babydoll dress with black lace trim, and it was paired with a matching thong and stockings. You had never worn anything so revealing before, but you knew Elijah would like it, and that was all that mattered.
You wanted to get him all worked up, break down the gentleman facade, make him want you so badly that he would do whatever you asked. You had been waiting for the right moment to try the rope Davina had created, and you were certain that tonight was the night.
You pulled a robe over your outfit, concealing it until the right moment. Then you sat back on your bed and texted Elijah.
"Are you free tonight?"
A few moments later, your phone vibrated.
"For you, always."
You grinned and quickly replied, "Come over."
He sent a thumbs up, and you tossed your phone aside, your nerves kept you from sitting still, and you spent the next ten minutes pacing anxiously around the room. When you finally heard a knock on the door, you jumped, startled by the sound. You took a deep breath and walked to the front of your apartment.
When you opened the door, you were greeted by a sight that made your mouth water. Elijah was dressed casually, in just a t-shirt and jeans, it was a rare sight, and one that had you practically drooling.
You stood there in silence for a moment, taking in the sight of him, until he cleared his throat and asked, "Can I come in?"
"Yes, sorry. Come in." You stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You let yourself melt into him, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you.
"What's this for?" You asked, teasingly tugging on his t-shirt, your hands roaming across his broad chest. "Has your dry-cleaner gone and quit on you?"
He chuckled and shook his head. "I figured we would just have a quiet night in. No need for the formalities."
You nodded, your hands traveling down to his waist. You felt his body tense slightly when your fingers began to dance along the bare skin under the hem of his shirt.
"Well, I have a surprise for you," you said, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.
He raised an eyebrow and gave you a curious look. "A surprise? Well, now I'm intrigued."
You laughed and grabbed his hand, leading him to your bedroom. Once inside, you turned and faced him, taking a deep breath before you began to untie your robe. But then you stopped, looking at him with a naughty smirk.
"Take off your shirt," you ordered, your voice suddenly more confident.
He looked surprised by your words, but quickly obliged, pulling the t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.
"Hmmm," you smiled as your eyes traveled down his body, appreciating his toned abs and muscular arms, lingering on where a trail of dark hair disappeared into his jeans. "Now the pants."
You watched as his hands moved to unbutton his jeans. He kept his gaze locked on you, his dark eyes filled with lust. Once the pants were undone, he slowly pushed them down, revealing his black boxer briefs and the outline of his half-hard cock.
Your mouth watered at the sight, but you knew this was just the beginning. As much as you wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck him senseless, you had a plan, and you were determined to stick to it.
"Get on the bed," you commanded, gesturing to the large mattress behind him.
He climbed onto the bed, sitting back against the pillows and watching you with curiosity. You untied the belt of your robe and let it fall open, revealing the sheer lingerie underneath.
Elijah's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as they traveled over your body.
"Do you like it?" You asked, teasingly running a finger along the edge of the lace trim.
He nodded, unable to speak, his cock already fully hard and straining against his underwear.
"Good, because I want you to do something for me," you said, your voice low and husky.
He nodded again, his gaze fixed on you.
"Take off your underwear and stroke your cock."
You watched him pull his boxer briefs down and wrap his large hand around his thick shaft, slowly stroking himself.
The sight of him pleasuring himself made your own arousal grow. You let your robe drop to the floor and climbed onto the bed, straddling his thighs.
He groaned, his eyes never leaving your body as he continued stroking his cock.
"Darling, you are a vision," he breathed, his voice deep and raspy with desire.
You felt heat pooling between your legs, your nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of your lingerie.
You leaned in and kissed him, your tongues battling for dominance as you moaned into his mouth. His other hand came up to grab your ass, pulling you closer.
He was breathing heavily, his eyes dark with lust.
"Touch yourself," he growled, his lips brushing against yours.
"No," you smirked, "I have something else in mind."
You reached over and picked up the rope, which you had placed within reach on the nightstand. You watched his eyes widen, his hand stopping its movements as he stared at the rope.
"Do you want me to tie you up?" He grinned, his hand starting to stroke his cock again.
"I have something else in mind," you repeated.
Elijah raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.
"Hands up," you commanded, leaning back slightly to give him space.
He paused for a moment before lifting his arms above his head, resting them on the pillow behind him.
You brought the rope over his wrists, looping it around and tying them together. He chuckled, his eyes darkening as he realized what you were doing.
"I never took you for a bondage girl, darling."
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," you replied, your tone playful as you pulled the rope tighter.
"Unfortunately I don't think this silk rope will hold me," he said, smirking as he tugged at the restraints.
You ignored him, continuing to tie his wrists to the headboard. Once you were satisfied with the knots, you sat back and admired your work, enjoying the way he looked helpless and at your mercy.
"Oh yeah?" You questioned, trailing a finger down his chest and abs, watching him shiver.
You slowly shrugged off one of the straps of your babydoll, letting the top slide down, exposing one breast.
His eyes fixated on your bare chest, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
"Mmmm," you hummed, rolling the hard bud between your fingers, teasing him. Then you did the same with the other strap, pushing the top down until your breasts were completely exposed.
Elijah let out a low moan, his cock twitching against his stomach.
"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his eyes burning with desire.
"Do you want to touch them daddy?" You cooed, running your hands up and down your breasts.
"Yes," he hissed, his hips bucking up involuntarily.
"Go ahead, tear the rope and touch me."
"Gladly."
He tugged at the rope, once, twice, three times. It didn't budge, much to his surprise.
"How the..." he started to say, looking up at the knotted rope.
"It's just a bit of magic," you smirked, your confidence growing as you watched him struggle.
You knew the ropes wouldn't hold him forever, but you planned on making the most of the time they did.
"Now, where were we?" You leaned forward, bringing your breasts close to his face.
He craned his neck up, trying to capture one of your nipples with his mouth, but you pulled away, denying him.
"Uh uh," you scolded, "You can look, but no touching."
You moved forward again, brushing your breast against his lips. He eagerly opened his mouth, trying to suck on the hardened peak, but you kept it just out of reach.
"I will be free soon enough, little one," he growled, his eyes locking onto yours, "and when I am, you're going to be punished for teasing me."
His words sent a thrill through you, but you remained calm, refusing to show him any signs of weakness.
"Oh yeah? What are you going to do, daddy?" You asked, taunting him as you rolled your hips, your wetness coating his skin.
He groaned at the sensation, his dark, lust-filled eyes watched as you began to touch his body, teasing and tormenting him.
You raked your nails down his chest and abs, earning a hiss of pleasure. You licked a hot stripe up his neck, biting his earlobe before moving to his lips. You kissed him roughly, your teeth grazing his lower lip, and he moaned, deepening the kiss.
Your hand went to his cock, stroking it slowly as he tried to buck his hips into your touch. You pulled back, smirking at him.
"You're not going to come until I say you can, understood?"
"Yes, my dear," he breathed, his eyes closing in pleasure as you tightened your grip on his shaft.
"Good boy."
You kissed him again, your tongues dancing together as you pumped his cock. He moaned into your mouth, his hips thrusting upwards, desperate for release.
You broke the kiss, looking down at him with a smirk. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to have him.
You positioned yourself over his throbbing member, lining him up with your entrance. You felt a flash of nervousness, not knowing how well you would be able to take him, but the excitement overrode the anxiety.
You lowered yourself down slowly, his thick cock stretching you open, filling you inch by inch.
"Fuck, Elijah," you moaned, burying your face into the crook of his neck, the feeling of him buried so deep, making your legs shake.
He hummed, his biceps straining against the rope as he struggled to break free. You placed your hands on his chest, using him as leverage as you began to ride him.
You knew right away that you were in trouble. Usually Elijah would take the lead, getting you all wet and worked up, he always took his time, and the pleasure he brought was slow and delicious.
But this, being on top and having all the control, was something you hadn't experienced before. It was intense, and you weren't sure if you could handle it.
Your thighs were burning as you lifted yourself up and down, but you were determined to keep going. Your eyes met his and the sight of his pupils blown wide with desire was enough encouragement for you to continue.
You rode him faster, your breath coming in short gasps. You were getting close, so close, but it was somehow all too much and not enough. You didn't think it would be this much work, and you could feel your energy waning.
It was a terrible feeling, finally getting what you wanted and being disappointed by it. You had been so confident, but now your thighs were burning and you were struggling to keep up a steady rhythm.
You looked at the ropes, seeing that they were still secure. There was no way you would be able to finish this yourself. You were going to need help.
"Eli," you whimpered, your nails digging into his chest.
"Yes, my dear," he groaned.
"I-I'm not sure... If I can keep going," you admitted, panting as you struggled to continue, a frustrated tear rolling down your cheek.
"Well, I'm still quite enjoying myself. You look absolutely exquisite like this," he teased, his eyes roaming your body.
"Elijah," you whined, "please. I-I can't."
He gave you a knowing smirk. "If you can't keep up, maybe I should be the one in charge."
"Please," you begged, your face flushing as the humiliation of being denied what you wanted so badly washed over you.
"You created this problem for yourself, little one," he reminded, "but luckily, I'm in a giving mood."
You nodded, grateful that he was willing to help you, even if he did enjoy teasing you about it. You reached up and undid the knots, releasing his hands from their restraints.
As soon as his hands were free, Elijah gripped your hips, flipping you over so he was on top. You yelped in surprise, the sudden change in position leaving you breathless.
"You are such a good girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. "So eager to please."
He kissed you hungrily, his hands exploring your body, his fingers tugging at the hem of your lingerie.
"And this," he murmured against your lips, "is very pretty. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to tear it."
Before you could protest, he ripped the babydoll in half, exposing your entire body to him. He tossed the torn fabric aside, his dark eyes roaming your naked form.
"But it was expensive," you half-protested, even though you were throbbing at the gesture of dominance and disregard.
He growled and pinched your nipple, earning a sharp gasp, then he soothed it with a swirl of his tongue, a wicked glint in his eyes.
"How much did that little magical rope cost you?"
You shuddered, already realizing this was the price you had to pay. You knew he would punish you for this stunt and it turned you on more.
"N-nothing, it was a favor from a friend," you muttered.
He didn't like the vagueness of your answer and took the rope and tied it around your wrists as he started kissing you again, your tongue clashing with his, while his large hand roamed your body, tweaking your nipples, earning a soft moan, and then traveling down south, running his fingertips along your skin, teasing and tickling you softly.
"You are going to do exactly as I say now, understood?" he mumbled against your skin.
"Y-Yes, Daddy," you whined, already desperately bucking against his hand.
Elijah released you, flipping you onto your stomach and dragging you to the head of the bed, tying the rope to the headboard so your arms are stretched high over your head. You were on your knees, and completely under his power.
You heard him rummaging around in his dresser and your heart began beating quickly from nervousness and excitement.
He kissed the back of your neck, the heat of his body warming you, and causing goosebumps to cover your skin. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you and you instinctively arched into his embrace.
"My sweet pet, are you ready to be punished?" he asked as he held one of his ties in front of your face, "Do you have a safe word?"
Your mind raced as he put the tie over your eyes. You quickly selected a word, just in case you needed it, though you sincerely doubted that would happen. Even when he was dominant like this, he always put your pleasure first, but you wanted him to believe you were scared.
"Coffee."
"Excellent," he replied as the smooth fabric was tied tightly around your head.
You tried to lean forward but couldn't move an inch with the rope around your wrists. This rope has successfully restrained Elijah, there was no way you were getting free until he cut you loose.
"I must say… that magic rope is quite a dangerous weapon, a threat to my family." He whispered against your ear, a hint of danger in his voice, sending an excited tingle through you.
You suddenly felt his strong hand wrap tightly around your neck. He wasn't squeezing yet but he was definitely letting you know who's in charge.
"You and I both know how I handle threats to my family," he said, pressing a kiss against your neck.
A moan escaped your lips and you could hear him chuckle. You were so wound up, you weren't sure how long you could take this.
"Stay quiet," Elijah commanded.
As if in punishment, he withdrew his hand from your throat, and you almost immediately missed the feeling of his warm hand against you. A sudden slap to your ass made your body jolt.
It burned from the force of it, his large, powerful palm practically covering your entire cheek. Every sensation was heightened by the tie around your eyes and you felt your whole body heating up, your blood rushing in anticipation of what was to come.
He hit you again, on the same cheek, harder than the last time. The sound of his hand hitting your flesh seemed to fill the room. Tears pooled in your covered eyes, the burning sensation making your body hum in pleasure, mixed with a bit of pain.
You weren't sure if you could handle one more of his heavy-handed swats. Your arms hurt from being pulled high above your head, and your wrists were already chafing.
You heard him reach into your night stand, searching for something that would bring you a different kind of pain. He found what he was looking for, trailing it down your spine. It was cold and smooth, and it made your stomach drop when you realized what it was.
"Eli- wait," you protested, none of this night was going to plan, but this? You had fantasized about it, sure, but this was-
Your mind went blank when he pushed it inside you, and without mercy, he switched it on. It buzzed to life and the sudden onslaught of the vibrations made your legs shake uncontrollably, your wrists burning slightly as you pulled on them.
It was like you were filled with electricity. And the noises you were making? They were a mix of moans and pleas for release, your body already nearing its limit.
His hand was gone, no more spanking and yet- the buzzing didn't stop, you had no release in sight and that's when you realized your mistake. He wasn't going to let you finish, the intention to drive you near your peak only to take you back down.
It was torture.
And you were absolutely loving it.
The minutes seem to tick by, maybe hours. Who knows anymore. All you're aware of is your trembling thighs, sweat glistening your back and your voice, cracking slightly as you scream and moan, writhing at the touch of his hand, then the hard buzzing once again.
"Hmm, we've never tried this setting before," he mused.
"Please Eli-"
He increased the intensity, a loud buzz echoing the room, and a series of vulgar curses escaping your lips, making him laugh.
The vibrator inside you was now pulsing at a rapid pace, the pleasure blinding, building, and there's nothing you can do to prevent the inevitable.
"Don't you dare come," he ordered.
"I can't-" you began, already starting to crumble under his control.
He gave the end of the vibrator a small twist and it hit a new spot that was pure euphoria. You tried to hold on, but it was impossible, your vision went white as an orgasm rocked through you, stealing your breath away, and all of the pent up tension that was burning in the depths of your core.
You let out an ecstasy-laced scream, every fiber in you igniting, every nerve firing at once as an immense surge of pleasure washed through your trembling body, shaking you to the core.
In that moment there was only bliss. The kind of sweet bliss that washes over your exhausted form, turning your limbs to rubber and melting your insides.
Your wrists ached, and you expected Elijah to untie you, but he had gone perfectly still behind you. Your heart began to race, suddenly filled with worry about whether he had become angered by your release. You honestly couldn't undergo another round of his erotic torture and live through it.
The silence and inaction was far worse than any punishment and you felt fear creep up your neck. Suddenly the vibrator turned back on at the max setting and his hand came down hard on your ass once again, leaving it stinging and burning, and tears brimming your lids, even as your body reacted with arousal.
You weren't even sure if your wrists could survive another round and it didn't help that the orgasm had made you sensitive to the point of numbness, but you can already feel your legs shaking, threatening to buckle underneath your exhausted form.
"Daddy, please I can't. I'll pass-" you started, the warning cut off with another slap.
You couldn't do it anymore, your wrists hurt more than the spanking. You remembered Davina had said that the rope could be undone with one word from you. Just as another spank was about to rain down, you rasped out 'confractus' and the rope fell off your wrists. You didn't waste a second, the moment you felt your hands free, you were tugging the blindfold down and pulling the vibrator out of you, tossing it across the bed and collapsing.
Elijah looked a bit shocked by your sudden escape, but that didn't stop him. With you no longer held in the bindings, he took it as another reason to keep punishing you and he grabbed your hips and pulled you underneath him.
His eyes were hard and wild, almost black, and his lips were curled up in a delicious smirk as he locked eyes with yours. The blindfold was held tight against your neck with one hand, keeping the pressure just enough to cause slight discomfort.
But then his eyes flicked to your wrists and the damage that had been done. The burns were deep, almost red and his demeanor changed instantly. His expression went soft, filled with remorse, but his dark, lust-filled eyes didn't change, still heated and primal, and needing release.
"I sometimes forget how delicate you are," he said softly, taking one of your wrists into his hand and giving a gentle kiss.
You flinched a little from the sting of it, watching his apology fill his eyes. You knew his guilt and self loathing was about to start, but before he could pull away, you reached up and grabbed the back of his neck and smashed your lips against his.
"I love when you get like this Eli," you admitted as the kiss broke, "Punishing me, fucking me, owning me. So don't start beating yourself up."
His response was an immediate hot sigh against your lips, relieved that he didn't hurt you.
"You do like the attention, do you?" he teased lightly, nuzzling your nose.
You nod, giving another kiss to the tip of his nose. "Always, but can you make this punishment worth it? It better end in a long, hot shower together or I might pass out," you whispered with a cheeky smile.
His shoulders shook from a silent laugh and his arms moved to either side of your face, caging you in with his warm presence, and you couldn't help the blush that spread through your cheeks as the emotion on his face flickered between the self-hating Elijah to the sweet one that you were in love with.
He ran his hand down your leg, then he lifted your thigh and held it against his hip and slowly, gently eased himself inside you. His lips were inches from and you couldn't look away. His eyes had softened now, and your heart melted at the devotion in them, only meant for you.
He slid his hand to the back of your neck as you clung to his shoulder, meeting him thrust for thrust as the pace gradually quickened. Your toes curled as waves of pleasure washed over you, but you held on this time, waiting for his permission, wanting to find release together.
His lips caressed your neck, his breathing ragged, and his movements became more erratic as his own control began to slip. The low, animalistic sounds rumbling in his chest nearly set you off, but somehow you managed to hang on.
Your mind is a fog, filled with everything Elijah; his smell, his warmth, the feeling of his skin against yours, the sound of his heavy breath, his low voice in your ear, his hips moving in a perfect tempo. It was overwhelming, dizzying, and intoxicating. You weren't sure how much longer you could hold out, especially with the way he was whispering your name like a prayer.
Your legs began to tremble again, Elijah knew you were close, and you were being so good for him. He could see the effort your restraint required in the furrow of your brow and the desperation in your eyes, he saw it in the twitching of your fingers and he felt the small spams from the place the two of you are joined.
"You've been such a good girl, come for me sweetheart," he cooed, nipping at your ear.
You closed your eyes and threw your head back. It felt like the earth beneath you cracked open and molten pleasure coursed through your veins, pouring into every cell and nerve, bathing you in absolute bliss.
Elijah kept rocking, dragging out your orgasm and making his own release finally explode throughout every part of him. As the both of you shook from pleasure, he didn't stop kissing you, kissing your cheeks, neck, and nose as the both of you tried to calm down. You clung to his biceps, relishing his touch, trying to calm down your raging heartbeat.
He released you and flipped onto his back, tugging you along, and making sure that you stayed close. You cuddled into his side, giving his chest small, gentle kisses.
He took your wrist, seeing the faint redness where the rope had burned your skin and gave it another tender kiss.
"Don't tell Klaus about the rope, he would not be very pleased to know you and Davina are making weapons behind his back, love."
You snorted and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, "how did you know it was Davina?"
He chuckled and rested his chin on the top of your head.
"Call it an educated guess," he teased and his hand playfully smacked your butt.
You both gave out a little chuckle before falling back into a comfortable silence. Your body had officially given out on you and exhaustion had taken over your form.
Elijah lifted you up out of bed and brought you to the shower, making sure that you were clean of any sticky sweat or traces of what had gone down moments ago. He wrapped his strong arms around you once you were dressed and both cleaned, bringing the covers around both of your bodies before kissing your forehead, and drifting off to sleep, holding you possessively against him.
This night didn't go as you planned, but you did not regret a thing.
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liveontelevision · 26 days
Note
I saw someone do headcanons on Lucifer and I know you'd write it perfectly. They basically said that if you were to ignore him, he'd practically BEG and WHINE like a bitch to have you talk to him. Even if it's telling him he's pathetic. As long as he hears your voice.
Ofc don't feel pressured to do this if you're busy or anything else, Ily🫶🏻🫶🏻 keep up the great work! :]
OKAY MORE SMUT (seriously, mdni 18+)
Sorry this one took forever but I'm prettyyy sure it's worth it. Let's just say this is Lucifer discovering some new things about himself :D
And ILY THANKS FOR THE REQUEST BBG
Throwing out a CW: Intersex Luci
Ignorance is Bliss | Lucifer x Reader
♡♡♡
Becoming comfortable with the King of Hell as his partner was easy. He made sure to cater to all your needs and give you everything you asked for. Overall, Lucifer was a sweetheart and a gentleman. And this was especially the case in bed. Considering his immense powers, he was giddy to fulfill any of your fantasies you'd have, no matter how bizarre. After being with him for long enough, fantasies dissolved into curiosities. Some nights became spicing things up in the bedroom in ways that you'd never consider, just to see how much you could handle. Now? you wanted to see how much he could handle.
Neither of you were comfortable with bringing intimacy to the public, not without proper care, at least. But what if you could work him up in a way only you knew about? Tease him throughout the day? How desperate could you make him without touching him? You couldn't recall where you picked up this idea, maybe somewhere online at some point. Knowing how deeply devoted he was to you, he was sure to hold a great reaction to this.
You were together when the hotel was renovated, so it was an easy transition for you. Everyone already aware of your relationship and loving you in turn made your afterlife seem like less of a punishment.
His top priority was your comfort when you both moved. He made sure to be close to you in group settings, keeping a hand on you at almost all times. Whether that be a hand on your thigh or the small of your back, or simply having his fingers intertwined in yours, it felt like a relief for both of you.
But with this little act you were pulling, you would lean away from his touch, and make excuses to disappear for the afternoon. Or in the halls, where he'd usually greet you with a quick kiss or I love you, you'd pull out your phone as you approached him, or simply smiled with your eyes barely looking his direction. He would swear, if anyone asked, that this wasn't bugging him one bit. Not. At. All. You were all his at the end of the day, you could treat him however you want and he'd submit. He's fine. He's acting fine.
When it came to the hotel, there weren't many demons jumping at the chance of redemption in the beginning, so some nights turned into drinks, games, and music. You felt so incredibly lucky to be a part of this family, your eyes scanning across the room and taking in just the pure enjoyment of everyone around you. The center of it all tonight was Lucifer. He was going on about some fantastical story that involved a circus in some other ring of Hell, that then evolved into sharing baby photos of Charlie. His eyes always sparkled when he would talk about his daughter. You loved her too, of course, but your heart always fluttered when his admiration would show.
Still, you had that little experiment to play with tonight. As Lucifer went on about his stories, either entertaining demons with their content or his ridiculous retellings, everyone was drawn in. Not to mention, he was drunk and was acting like a fool, so he was even entertaining Alastor. With one foot on the barstool and the other propped on the counter, he acted out some ridiculous story that you paid no mind to. In fact, you made it a point to not react to anything, despite how intense he was becoming. You'd look down at your phone as he spoke. Or you'd start some random conversation with Husk, who really could care less, but he at least responded to you.
Keeping your eyes off of him was a challenge, but you could tell he was trying to get your attention when he'd brag about something. With no response, he would stutter mid-sentence, then change the topic after not getting the reaction he wanted out of you. With each ignorant glance, he took a swig of his drink.
He was seated after that, being scolded for scuffing the tables with his heels. That's when the ridiculous jokes began. You loved his jokes! You could listen to them all day, even laughing when he told you the same joke over and over. But not tonight, you had to remind yourself. You bit your tongue and sucked in your lips to hide any smile or laughter that might pass through. Still avoiding looking in his direction entirely, Lucifer was suddenly silenced. You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, then back down to your screen, mindlessly scrolling through essentially nothing. Charlie was quick to distract him with a story, he was nodding along and smiling as best he could for her. The party dwindled, leaving you, Lucifer and Husk.
“I-uh.. think our royal highness has had enough. You should take him to bed, kid.” Husk finally draws your attention to Lucifer, who has laid his head on the countertop, incoherently mumbling. You sigh and nod, taking his drink from his hand and rising to your feet. Just barely touching his shoulder, he immediately straightens his posture.
“Good call, kitty!” He had a habit of calling Husk that when he wasn't entirely there, it made both of you cringe, “Bedtime, my love?” He takes a hold of your hand in both of his and you have to remind yourself this is just for fun. The endgame has to be worth it. You pull away, already walking through the portal he had created when he was talking. He looked at you as you stood in your shared room, still seated at the bar. Finally turning, you sigh and place your hands on your hips.
“C’mon, Lucifer.” You said absentmindedly, using a beckoning finger to draw him in. He eagerly jumped from his seat following you in, even with his chest aching. You didn't normally use his name. Usually it was darling, or my love, or good boy if he was acting accordingly. He takes a hold of your arm as the portal shuts, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then running small pecks along the length of your arm, stopping at the start of your shoulder. You let out a small, almost nervous sounding chuckle, before reeling back.
“Didn't see you around the hotel today, darling. Did you do anything fun?” Lucifer sways as he speaks. Maybe small talk would help? He was trying his hardest to act casual and keep a clear conscience considering how much alcohol he’s had at this point. You shake your head, pulling your top off. You decide to sort through your clothes long enough to let Lucifer catch the sight of you bent at the hips, rummaging through a dresser drawer while topless. You could hear him gulp. He starts the same way, but struggles with the buttons on his vest.
“L-love, I might need-” his intoxication is clear in his voice at this point. After throwing on some sort of silky slip, you sigh and turn your attention to him. Looking down and fiddling with the buttons, he begins to lose his balance and finds himself leaning against a wall for stability. You approach him silently, and easily undo each of his buttons. You'd be lying if this alone wasn't making your stomach flutter. Even then, it was easy to keep your cool after seeing that he was clearly enjoying this too much. You notice his labored breathing as he braces his arms against the wall, allowing you to run your hands across his bare chest and slipping his shirt and vest to the ground with some maneuvering. You keep your hands at his hips for a moment, he lifted his pelvis away from the wall, maybe hoping for some kind of friction. You were lingering barely an inch away from his lips. Hearing the smallest whimper seemed to remind you of your mission, so you quickly pulled away.
“Good night, Lucifer~” just that sentence alone sent him spinning. Your lips so close to him and your voice so smooth, he was beginning to enjoy the sound of his name in your mouth.
More. He needs more.
As you crawled under the covers, you made it a point to hum and moan as you stretched and settled in. Pulling your phone back up to your face, you barely had time to look at anything before a clawed hand had slowly pushed your device down, revealing a very red-faced Lucifer.
“Is something wrong, love? Can I.. help you?” He was genuinely worried. You almost felt guilty at that moment. With a final sigh, you set your phone aside and cupped his hot to the touch cheek in your hand. He immediately let the weight of his head fall into your hands, humming contently at the long overdue contact. Still, you shake your head in response to him, keeping your lips sealed. His lip finally starts to quiver and he lets out a shaky breath.
“Please, I need your voice, love.. I miss it- I miss you.” He almost breaks you, so you decide to reward him for this display at least. You silently press a kiss against his eager lips. He's ready to pull you in and ravish you with that alone, he’d do anything to hear your voice. You pull away. He tries making connections in his foggy mind, tracing through the past few days to see if there was anything he might’ve done for you to be this cruel to him. He can't think of any wrong doings, but.. he'll do anything.
“P-please? darling?” He stammers out, continuing to crawl towards you and sitting prettily on your lap. The view itself drove you mad. You could keep your lips sealed, but you couldn't prevent the blush becoming apparent across your cheeks. He hums, satisfied with this reaction at least.
“I don't know what's going on with you, but.. I love you.” Oh, shit. “.. I love you~” He repeats.
You keep your eyes away from him. This one was a struggle.
“T-That’s fine, don't tell me about your day.. o-or laugh at my jokes, but, darling-” he turns your head to face him, a hand lightly bringing you forward by your chin, you notice his eyes glowing. “I love you.”
Fine.
“I love you, too.” You said it quietly, a hint of defeat in your tone. He immediately perks up, shifting his grasp on your chin to thumb at your jaw, nearly encompassing your throat with his hand. Closing the already very small gap between your lips, he eagerly explores your mouth with his forked tongue. You yelp into his lips in surprise, before pushing him away carefully, seeing how much of a mess you've made him from just that phrase.
“Lucifer, that wasn't very nice, was it? You have to ask.” You said sternly, sitting up to rest your back on the headboard and pulling him with you to keep him seated on your thighs.
“W-Wha.. Ask? To kiss you? Well that seems.. rather…” He questions with a nervous laughter, waiting for the punchline. You only nod your head in agreement.
“Well.. can I kiss you, then..?” He asks awkwardly. It was cute enough, But this wasn't your original vision.
“Mmmm- no.” Making a big show out of tapping your chin and letting your eyes wander around the room, you finally look back at him.
“What? Oh- um.. please?” He clarifies, a now nervous smile present on his face.
“Please, what?” You start running your hands across his abdomen, letting them interlock behind his back and pulling him just a bit closer.
“C-can I kiss you.. please..?” You thought he'd be agitated at this point, but his voice is dripping with desperation. He likes it. You see his hips shifting just above your thighs.
“Hm. Maybe.. I just don't think you want it enough, my love.” You say sweetly, pouting as if you felt any remorse. You ran your hands up his chest, then back down his sides, brushing your fingers just slightly below his belt. He huffs.
“Sweetheart! I-I do want it! please..? I want you, p-please..” He finally moans out, panting heavily only from your hands along his bare skin. You couldn't help but smile, and finally give him what he wants. With a gentle kiss onto his lips, it's clear that he's shaking with anticipation. He wasn't jumping you like before or taking the lead to suffice his own desires. It's as if he was waiting for permission. You weren't going to give in that easily, though.
You pulled away after that single kiss, looking at him like you had just asked a question and were waiting for a proper response. Finally catching his breath, he braces himself up by keeping his hands on your shoulders. He looks at you with the sweetest puppy eyes, shifting his weight on his knees to ease the growing discomfort pressed in his pants.
“More, my love.. I need more- I-I need you to-” He's still rambling. You hum, letting the hand that had been sitting on his hip palm at the bulge in his pants. You learn forward, pressing your lips against his skin and running your tongue up his neck. He shivers, the sudden sensations after being ignored for so long already forces a pathetic sound from him, music to your ears. Your kisses become sloppy, and your little nips will surely bruise and shine by the next morning.
“I-I want- ahh~” He’s keeping up with it? You thought for sure this little game of yours had ended. You won and you're giving him the attention he finally needs, yet he's still begging for you? “talk to me.. darling-” he chokes out, moving his hands that had been tightly gripping your shoulders to cup your cheeks. You were pulled back by his touch, a slightly shocked expression on your face. “Please.” His eyes were brimming with tears. A single line of golden blood and saliva dripped from his mouth from biting a little too hard on his lip, in an attempt to keep his noises at bay. You moved your hands away from his buldge, which had accumulated a wet spot onto his trousers, then went back to trailing your fingers across his skin again.
“Okay.” You respond. He perks up at your acceptance, the little sparkle in his eyes brings a smile to your face. “Since you asked so nicely.” you said sweetly, “So.. how badly did you miss me? Only a few days like this and you’re already a mess.. did you miss our little conversations? My voice?” You question softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek to wipe away some stressed tears that had fallen. He nods, holding onto your hand and burying his cheek into your palm.
“-My touch?” You massage his hip, letting your hand drift closer to the clasps on his pants. He nodded again, much more eagerly this time. “Hm. Good.” with one final kiss to his lips, you push him to the side, swapping your positions, to where you were hovering over him with your arms caging him in. He barely has time to process the quick switch, before feeling your hands tug his pants. He's moaning at the sensation alone, holding onto whatever he could find, gripping your wrist in one hand and balling up the sheets in his other.
You linger above him, your lips just above his. You could feel him panting heavily against you, even before touching him. You'd normally be passionately entangled at this point, But here, you got the chance to see his face. You were enjoying taking your time with this one.
“You're being such a good boy for me.. you're doing so well.” Your eyes flutter shut to capture him in another heavy kiss, and you reach unto his pants, planning to slowly relieve his stress. A sudden request leaves his mouth, stopping you for a moment.
“N-no..! Nono.. love, my name. Use my name- please..” He's shaking his head, finally mustering the courage to make his request. Another new development. God, he was perfect. You move to his jaw, pressing kisses up to his ear before breathing heavily against it.
“Lucifer-” you finally say. He lets out a pathetic whimper, clamping his grip down onto your wrist and bucking his hips into your sudden, yet tantalizingly slow, palming. “You're doing so good for me, Lucifer. My Lucifer. My sweet, Luci~” you mutter into his skin, beginning to pump your hand a bit faster. He is doing so good for you, afterall, he deserves it.
This wasn't the only game you wanted to play tonight. you wanted to fully take care of your poor neglected king after all you've put him through. After toying with him for long enough, edging him from release each time, you finally let him rest. You pull away, after bringing him to the brink and tearing him away each time, you were reveling in his pretty tears. All the senses you were enrapturing suddenly put to a halt, forced him to look at you desperately. You fully dismount him, leaving him nude under your gaze. Slightly embarrassed, he pulls his legs together. You rest your hands gently on the top of knees.
“I’ll need both tonight, Luci.” You say casually. This was something you've tried before, and it was definitely due for a second round. You felt he needed the extra love. He nodded, his face completely heating up. walking your fingers across his legs and helping him take his trousers completely off, you were treated with the pretty sight of his already soaked pussy, that sat quite nicely below his already overstimulated cock. The combination of his two sexes was enough to drive a whimper even from you. You quickly dip down, your own desperation meeting his. After bringing him to the brink beforehand but not letting him finish, it wasn't long before he was squirming and whimpering under your touch.
Even with all that, he was still begging you for more. Drunk off his juices already, you ran your tongue up from his folds, flicking at his clit, then sending a heated trail right up to the head of his cock. he arches his back into the full exposure, and you have to keep your hands on his thighs to keep his legs from shutting. The agonizing moans and gasps he was letting out only made you want to hear more. Hastily pushing three fingers into his entrance, his voice cracked out some resemblance of your name. He doesn't use his other sex often, so when you get the chance to eat your fill, he's almost always struggling to keep any composure. pumping his cock in one hand, you skillfully pump and curl your fingers into him with the other, all the while maneuvering your tongue and lips to suction onto his clit.
“Mm-! I-I can't- ahha- take… anymore- m-mmy love-” He's stammering. You pull away for a moment to let out a single phrase,
“What do you say, Lucifer?” Before continuing your brutal overstimulation. Only hearing more whimpers, you slowed your motions, waiting for a proper response. You only speed up your movements, after keeping your thumb lightly pressed against the top of his head.
“P-Please-” he shoots his head back into the pillows, his legs already shaking. “Please, can I-I-” You hum against him, sending a mild vibration that still made a big impact, before lifting your thumb just slightly.
“You may, Lucifer.” You run your tongue across his entirety again, enclosing his cock into your mouth and taking in his final thrusts.
Still whimpering and gasping, you continue to bob your head, moving slow circles across his clit, and causing his body to fully tremor beneath you.
You finally sit up, enjoying the view beneath you, while wiping away anything that you didn't manage to already swallow. Even with his eyes closed from the pure exhaustion, he's muttering your name under his breath. You still don't know how you managed to get this lucky, so you appreciate his drunken appearance for a moment longer before cleaning him up and eventually settling him under the covers. You hold him tight to your chest, your limbs intertwined. Even with immense angelic power, he returns your embrace weakly, with shaky arms.
“I love you, Lucifer.” You hum, pressing a kiss onto his forehead while brushing some hair from his face. He's still catching his breath, “Luci-” you say just as sweetly. He barely opens his eyes to meet your gaze, still silent. With a gentle grip on his chin, you pull him upwards to fully face you. “I love you~” You repeat.
“Mmn- love you.. dear…” He grumbles, still clearly dazed from the events of the night. Running your thumb along his lower lip, you muffle his tired moan with a kiss, before letting him rest his chin comfortably against your chest. You’d say your little experiment was a success. And you're sure Lucifer learned a lesson along the way; He has to ask for what he wants.
♡♡♡
Hope you like intersex lucifer bc I recently discovered I LOVE INTERSEX LUCIFER
More requests and the next part to Suffer is comin' up soon 🫶
!Taglist!
( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora )
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noforkingclue · 5 months
Note
Hey there! I’m back again with another request (only if you want to write it though!)
I was looking at the prompts you reblogged and thought that this one: "i know what having a crush feels like and this is nothing close..." "have you considered that it's because this is more than just a crush?" "stop talking." might be one that could work for either Tommy Shelby or Carmy from The Bear — whichever you feel it fits better with!!
I look forward to seeing who you choose! Thanks so much in advance if you choose to write it! 🥰
Of course I want to write this!!! I went with Carmy for this because the prompt gave me a chance to torture him slightly...
I hope you like the fic :)
Title: Misunderstandings
Prompt list: list
Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee
“Thanks Syd,” you said as you shrugged on your coat, “I really appreciate this. I owe you one big time.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Syd said rolling her eyes but you could see the smile on your face, “you do owe me one.”
“Oi,” you paused just as you were about to leave, “where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
You looked over your shoulder and grinned at Richie. He gave you an unimpressed loo and tossed you a cloth.
“You going to fucking help us clear up or not?” he asked
“Can’t tonight.”
“I thought we’re a fucking team now?”
“Syd let me leave early as long as I come in early another day.”
You tossed the cloth back at him and Richie caught it onehanded.
“And also when did you actually help with closing?”
“I’m always here.” Richie said
“Sitting down and criticising our work isn’t ‘helping’. Now I’ve really got to be going.”
A chorus of goodbyes came from the others. You briefly made eye contact with Carmy and gave him a small smile. He quickly looked away and disappeared into the back. You felt a pang of sadness course through you. However, you didn’t have time to dwell on it. You were going to be late if you didn’t leave.
“So,” Richie turned to Syd after you had gone, “why the fuck was she allowed to leave early?”
“She didn’t say. Although it could be a date.”
A crash from the kitchen made everyone look over. Carmy stumbled out, face red when he realised that everyone was staring at him. The smirk of Richie’s face seemed to widen at the revelation of why Carmy had been hiding.
“A date,” Richie said, “well she kept that fucking quiet. Doesn’t she trust us?”
“Maybe it’s because it’s none of our fucking business.” Carmy said
“I thought you’d be interested in this, cousin.”
“Why the fuck would you think that?”
“With your massive fucking crush on her? Thought you’d want to know who your competition is.”
“I don’t have a fucking crush on her.”
Richie let out a snort of disbelief and Syd raised her eyebrows. A ripple of laughter rose from the others at Carmy’s denial.
“Nah,” Richie shook his head, “we can all fucking see it.”
“I know what having a crush feels like,” Carmy snapped, “and this is nothing close.”
“Have you considered that it’s because this is more than just a crush?” said Marcus
Carmy’s attention snapped over to Marcus who shrugged in acknowledgement.
“Shut up.” Carmy said but the words came out slightly choked
Immediately the rest of the staff burst out laughing. Richie tossed the cleaning cloth of Carmy and said,
“Then why the fuck don’t you go after her?”
“You think you’re in place to give him relationship advice?” said Tina
“And why the fuck can’t I?”
“She’s going on a date,” said Marcus, “You can’t do that when she’s about to see someone else.”
“She should’ve taken him here,” said Richie, “then you could see what you’re dealing with, cousin.”
“Why the fuck would she bring a date to work? That would be a shit date.” said Syd, “See, this is why we shouldn’t listen to you when it comes to these things.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
Carmy leant against the wall and ran a hand over his face as his staff dissolved into arguing. Was his feelings for you really that obvious? Clearly he hadn’t been doing as good of a job of hiding them as he originally thought.
“Besides, we don’t even know if she’s going on a date.” Syd’s voice echoed above the noise
“Wait, who’s going on a date and why didn’t anyone let me know about the gossip?”
Silence fell and everyone glanced towards the door. Carmy’s felt the blush slowly creep up his neck as the two of you locked gazes.
“Turns out my sister isn’t feeling well so we had to cancel our plans,” you said, “so I came back to pull my weight! So, who’s going to tell me what’s been going on?”
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indouloureux · 2 years
Note
Could you do a eddie x reader fic where they start off in bed making out and stuff but the reader is upset about something and gets up and starts ranting to him about what happened but all eddie can do is watch her and touch himself under the covers it's mainly based on the that scene from makeup
hejsskhsskjs that scene— 🧎‍♀️
18+ minors dni — masturbation, heavy making out, edging, handjob, a bit of a dom!reader and sub!eddie, mommy kink
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you weren't supposed to be that upset.
really. she was just new. a new girl in hawkins who've yet to know what the town truly is and who the people really are. but can you help it if a girl were to flirt with your boyfriend and became too touchy?
eddie knows it upset you — he saw in the way your jaw had clenched when he left the girl to take you home; knew it when you were silent and not singing in the car with him; felt it in the way you'd avoid his eyes when he tries to spark up a conversation but give him laconic answers with a hasty, quiet voice that makes his chest tighten and his lips shut the entire car ride.
but you told him you'd stay in his place nonetheless, which brings you here: in his lap, back straightening as he sits up to kiss you deeper. your hand tangled in his hair as your nails scratch his scalp to leave at least an angry mark, pulling on his hair to leave your head on top of him and your tongue inside his mouth.
eddie moans against your lips as you do so, and you smile at the fact that the girl had failed and here he is — the boy she's trying to get moaning beneath you by a simple hair pull. you bite his bottom lip in the softest way, a light preparation for all the roughness that'll wear him asleep until the next day.
but suddenly, as you take a deep inhale, you smell something that's not him.
cheap cologne, cigarettes, dirt, you shampoo, and — lo and behold, rich scented summer cologne from the newly opened shop in starcourt.
you pull away, swollen lips forming into a frown as you stand up from his lap.
"babe," eddie pouts. "where are you going? the shows about to get started."
"it's the goddamn girl, munson," you grumble. yet even though you broke away, you remove your shirt, leaving you with a bra that barely covers anything.
and god, did the sight send the blood straight up his cock. eddie bites his lip as he pokes out, and while you start going on a talk about how oblivious and ignorant the poor girl was, he subtly lets a hand down beneath the covers and palm himself through his boxers, stifling a groan.
it's embarrassing — pathetic — that he gets turned on by your anger. the way your eyes darken into something like an acrimonious dawn, eyes seething for something that's petty revenge you both know eddie would stop you from doing, and those puffy lips that gives you a hot sailors mouth that when you utter the words fuck, he's squeezing himself just around the tip.
he doesn't notice that you see he's already pulling his hard length out to stroke himself, feeling naively lucky that it made no sound despite the pre-cum making him wet like you would if he was in your position. you stop talking, all the anger dissolved into something that's wroth arousal.
"are you touching yourself?" you question the obvious, watching as the sheets went from bouncing slowly to not at all as the bite on his lip releases and panic settles. "while i'm ranting about a girl who flirted with you in front of me? even though she knew damn well you're my boyfriend?"
"f-fuck," it's as if his cock had his own mind, hardening at every venom spat onto the sheets. "i'm sorry baby. 's just that you looked soooo fucking hot when you're mad. especially in your bra."
slowly, you smirk, crawling back your way. hand moving the covers down so you'd see his cock full on display, peaking out above his dampened boxers. eddie looks at you through hooded eyes, moans like a virgin when your finger skims through the bush of coarse hair above his dick.
"do you know how mad it made me that you were practically entertaining her?" you question him, slowly wrapping a hand around his cock. he grunts, stays pliant, even though the devil beside him commands him to make you even madder at his disobedience of not staying still.
eddie shakes his head.
"that you'd tell her all these jokes. let her touch your arm as she makes that god-awful laugh?" you squeeze his shaft, licking your lips at the sight of pre-cum seeping off the slit. "knowing damn well i was watching you, huh?"
he moans, low and hot when you begin to pump him, thumb caressing his helmet and spreading the cum around his pink tip. "i'm—"
"you're what, baby?" you coo sardonically. "you've been naughty today, baby. made me so mad that i'm gonna punish you. but first, i think you have something to say," you lean in, grazing your lips on his tip. and for a moment he thinks you'd suck him off until you've milked him dry. but you don't, and instead you swim up until your teeth bite the flesh of his earlobe gently. "don't you, baby boy?"
eddie chokes on his spit. "i'm- i'm sorry."
"i'm sorry...what...baby?"
"i-i'm sorry," he repeats. "mommy."
"atta boy," you giggle into his ear, pumping him up and down faster. "now do you know how many times you made her laugh, eddie?" he shakes his head. "twenty times. and do you know how many times i'm gonna edge you? i'm not letting you cum until your balls are blue."
he whines, feeling his orgasm already threaten to spurt from all the talking you've done. "f-fuck, mommy."
"i'm just gonna teach you a lesson, baby," you purr. "i want you to count them. be a good boy for mommy. loose count and we start over, okay?" he nods. and you slap his thigh. "good."
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idk if this is what you wanted honey i got carried away 😭
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 8 months
Note
What if... RoR guys fall for a sassy/psycho reader after this conversation?
RoR guys: Why are you trying to sell me your house/car for 1 dollar?
Sassy reader: Oh, that. My boyfriend cheated on me, you see. He is stuck on (any place you want to imagine) and asks me to sell the house/car and send all the money to him. So, I'm sending it for 1 dollar and send him all the money I got from the sell.
RoR guys: (amused but also falling in love)
Can you do Odin, Poseidon, Hades and Beelzebub for th gods side and Qin Shi Huang, Nikola, Simo Hayha (if can) and Leonidas for human side?
-It was rather odd when (Love) walked up, seeing your boyfriend’s fancy sports car that he was always taking care of, a for sale on it but you were the one sitting beside it.
-A grin slowly spread across his lips, seeing the sign said ‘For Sale $1’.
-You didn’t look bothered, you looked pleased with yourself as he looked at you, “So what’s all this about?”
-You smiled warmly up at him, “I’m selling my boyfriend’s car. He said he needs the money since he’s stuck in Cuba- where he said he was going to be visiting his mother where she was vacationing for her birthday. Turns out he went to hook up with not one but two other women! So he asked me to sell his car and send him the money.”
-He couldn’t help but snort in laughter before quickly dissolving into roaring laughter, holding his gut, hearing your plan while you looked quite pleased with yourself. He wiped a tea from his eye, “Oh gods- you are a genius Y/N!” you puffed up your chest a bit from his praise, “I know~” which made him laugh again. He reached a hand down to you, “May I take you out? We can discuss your sale price over coffee.” You instantly smiled, taking his offered hand, “I like the way you think!” he chuckled warmly as you went out to enjoy yourself, since you were now single.
            -Qin Shi Huang, Leonidas, and Hades
-He tried, badly, to hide his grin, which only grew as you smiled brightly up at him as you hopped to your feet, “So you interested?” he was quickly laughing, for once, which did make you grin brightly, feeling proud of yourself. Once he was composed he handed you the dollar, before destroying your ex’s car, using his strength and ability to do so, which made your eyes sparkle brightly before he turned, “Will you allow me to take you out since you’re single now?” you turned, a bit surprised before you instantly beamed, agreeing as you took his hand and he led you both away from the shouldering car.
            -Odin, Poseidon, and Beelzebub
-He tried not to grin, but hearing about how you were treated, being cheating on so coldly, it was hard not to, “Remind me never to piss you off.” You just beamed up at him, not at all bothered, “Nah- I don’t think you ever would. I was going to be nice about it, but when he video called me from his hotel room I heard the other two women in the back.” He smiled softly down at you, “Are you all right?” you were surprised that he was concerned about you and you smiled softly up at him, “I will be- glad I’ll no longer be the third wheel to his car!” he smiled humorlessly before he offered you a hand, “May I have the honor of taking you out? We can go get something to eat if you want?” he wasn’t expecting you to take his hand and you smiled instantly, “Let’s go!” he knew he would never hurt you like that, he wanted you to be happy, always.
-Nikola and Simo
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mayuichi · 5 months
Text
She wants to trust you. Give her reasons trust you. Give her reasons be happy.
Furina x Reader
Warnings: None beside archon quest spoilers (kinda?? i think)! Fluff fic because I want to give Furina some deserved affection :(
Lys' note: i wrote that during the night (started around 4am it's now 7:30 I guess I won't sleep zbfozjfo), i hope furina isn't too ooc :( I love that cutie sm she deserves love and no one can change my mind. well i've finished rambling eNJOY THE FIC!! 🩷
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Official arts from Genshin Impact!
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Now that the Hydro dragon, Neuvillette, has become the new Archon of Fontaine, he has many things to worry about. Worries for his people, and his new role. He couldn't find time to check on Furina yet. So he falls you to his office. Being someone who already shared many tea parties with her, he humbly requests for you to go see her.
You don't have to be asked twice. Furina and you weren't close friends, yet.. you feel the need to be here for her. After her trial, where everyone has been against her, she couldn't actually be fine.
Of course, knowing no more of fontainians has dissolved makes her happy, but at what cost? You yourself have felt betrayed when the verdict fell upon her. She has never been the true Archon is the end. But she never deserved a death sentence.
Finding her still alive made a weight come off your shoulders, and yet... You felt a knot in your stomach. Why did you felt sorry for her at that time?
Enough questioning.
You are at her doorstep now. Hesitantly knocking, you wait for a potential answer. But no one answers. You could swear she would've been here. Why wasn't she? Panic runs through your veins. You shake your head. It isn't the time to think of the worst, isn't it?
You sigh, crossing your arms. Today has no performance, nor trials. So perhaps... She went to the Opera House? It wouldn't be surprising, but you wonder why would she be there. In any case, there is only one way to figure it out.
It's a long road until there, but you make it anyway. You'd do anything to know how she's doing. Despite not having much of a good.. friend. You haven't visited her or tried to check up on her before Neuvillette's request.
Perhaps she wouldn't even trust you.
Shaky steps, you make your way to the inside of the Opera House. You take in a deep breath before opening the doors leading to the stage. There she stands, oblivious to your presence.
Gracefully dancing alone, in the empty scene. No one to look at her, no one to say anything to her, no one to blame her. Humming to herself a soft, yet melancholic melody, a tune bringing up to the surface all the pain she has always felt.
You can't tear your eyes away from the sight of her. Carefully approaching, cautious to not make any sound. It's like watching a broken puppet putting on her last show. Despite the grace she has, some of her movements were... Hesitant. As if her mind is on fire.
Tripping on her feet, she falls on her hands and knees, quiet sobs filling the silent room. Her shoulders shruddering under each cries, her tears falling from her cheeks to crash onto the wooden stage. She is just a mess, overthinking everything she has done those past hundreds of years.
“What if things could've been different... Have I done my job right...„ she wonders. Such a painful sight for you to witness. You glance away, taking a few more steps. “Lady Furina...„
Her head snaps up, eyes filled with tears as she tries to crawl back. “What... What are you doing here?!„ she croaks out.
The once almighty and theatric Furina is now reduced to be a shadow of herself, in the exact same room where her people has left her. You sigh quietly, climbing onto the stage and kneel at her level.
“You don't need to stay alone, Lady Furina.„ you whisper softly. You know your words might be insignificant, especially considering her state, but if you could just... “No need to keep the lady... After all, now you all know..„
You felt pity for her. For everything that has happened. “You know.. No one hates you. You've never tried to bring bad things. You were just...„ “Lost...„ she mutters under her breath.
“Yeah.. as much as we were.„ you try to reach out and place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she pushes it away. “I don't need anyone's pity.„ she growls out. Perhaps she doesn't need pity, but she clearly needs someone.
“I don't pity you. I truly want to be here for you.„ you smile, leaning your head closer to her, sitting right in front of her. “... Why?„ she inquires. “Well...„
You chuckle softly as she doesn't seem to remember anything. “Haven't you always listened to my issues back when we would have tea parties?„ you tilt your head on the side, keeping your gaze on her. “Well it-.. it was just a mere formality! Who, as a supposed Archon, wouldn't listen to one of her people's problems?„
You shake your head. You know there is more than that. But pressuring her right now isn't a good idea. Instead, you creep closer, until you could wrap your arm around her shoulder and let her rest her head against you.
“You do not have any reason to tell me what troubles your mind. Yet, I wish you are aware you can share anything to me. Your secrets are safe within those walls.„ you reassure her. It might not work, but at least she now knows she can lean on you if she needs.
Staying in that position for a little while, you gently rub her arm in a comforting way. She looks up at you, and suddenly asks what you feared.
“... Why didn't you came earlier?„ you have no true answers to that. You felt betrayed, lost, unsure. Everything and nothing flooded your mind at that right moment. “I'm sorry. I don't have any answer to give you. I'm to blame. But I do care for you. I never thought we would be friends from tea parties alone, but we can still be close. A confident, someone to share your burdens with. I'd love to be that person to you, if you want me to.„
She doesn't say anything more. She just processes your words in silence. And you don't mind it. If this could give her some peace of mind, you'll gladly stay this way.
“... I have never asked to carry such a burden.„ you snap your head towards her, unsure of what she means. You just wait for her to keep going.
“When she told me I just had to wait until an important and life changing trial, I... I never thought she was speaking of my own. I never felt so lost in my entire existence. My own people, going against me... I now know it was for the best, but...„
Her voice cracks. Tears sting in her eyes again, threatening to fall down. She is trying with all her might to not let them fall as she goes on.
“It hurts. It hurts like hell. I've lived through everything, and even now it still hurts. Will fontainians ever forgive me for lying to them? Does Neuvillette will forgive me? I've tried for so long to find a solution. We've lost so many people.„
You feel a sudden urge to shield her in your arms from all the cruelty. But it's too late, she already felt too much of it to ever forget. Yet it doesn't stop you from wrapping your arms around her petite frame, placing your chin on top of her head.
“I've tried. I've tried everything I could! I never wanted to see anyone dissolve! I spent days and nights searching for a solution, only for.. that...„ she lowers her head, hiding her tears as best as she could.
“Monsieur Neuvillette has never been upset. He is just busy. As for the people... I am sure they understand now. They can't be mad at someone who tried so hard to save them for all those years.„ you try to reassure her, but even yourself don't know how to do. How to comfort someone who had to lie for so long, to hide her true feelings and not even feel capable to share her burdens to the renowned traveler?
You feel helpless. Perhaps you aren't the one made for comforting her. But you want to try. To try no matter what. “You loved us. With all your heart. You have tried everything, at the cost of your own happiness, being eaten day by day.„
Your heart aches for her. You want to be there, to help her. To just... Let her be happy once again. She hides everything behind a facade. But every facade breaks at some point...
“Let me be the one for you. Let me show you how this world can bring many discoveries, how it can still give hopes and joy. Let me... Let me give you the happiness you're craving.„
She tilts her head up. Her eyes... It's empty. Filled with despair and pain. She's aching for love, to finally be happy and carefree. But there's also a tiny... Extremely tiny twinkle. A sparkle of hope igniting at your words. She wants to believe you, to trust you.
She wants to trust you. Give her reasons trust you. Give her reasons be happy.
She cracks a faint and weak smile to you, hesitantly reaching to take your hand in her. “... You promise to not leave me?„ she's scared. Terrified of another pain. But the passion in your eyes, the love your heart holds for her... It couldn't be faked.
“I promise. But you have to live on. Let your past behind. Don't let it haunt you...„ she doesn't know how to do that. She never knew. Placing a hand on her head to gently stroke her hair. “It's okay if you don't do it now. We will go step by step. At your own rhythm.„
You stand up, helping her stand as well, as you snake an arm around her waist to keep her close. “Now, let's go see Neuvillette. He is worried sick he hasn't seen you in days.„
Walking slowly to the aquabus, you sit together in silence. No words need to be spoken. Not when she sees how much love you want to give to her.
You arrive at the Palais Mermonia. Everyone is a little uneasy to see Furina after she excluded herself either in her home or the empty Opera House. Entering the Palais, you let her knock on Neuvillette's office's door. But no one answers.
She is about to grab your hand to tell you you should go, but instead, you knock again, clearing your throat. “Monsieur Neuvillette, it's me.„ recognising your voice, he tells you to enter, and so you do.
Furina hides behind your back, but Neuvillette could see her attire. He sighs in relief upon seeing her, smiling. “I am pleased to see you are doing okay, Lady Furina.„
She doesn't answer. “... Don't mind her silence. She took a while before talking to me. But I can assure you she'll be okay.„ you explain in a hurry, not wanting to offend the new Archon. “I never doubted it. She is in good hands with you. Why would I have asked you to see her otherwise?„
A weak smile spreads on your lips as you look behind to see Furina. You nudge against her, pushing her in front of his desk. “Eeep!„ her eyes widen. She's like an animal caught in a trap. She feels slightly betrayed that you make her face him, but it just makes him laugh.
“Well, I suppose she is indeed not talkative anymore...„ Neuvillette teases gently, his eyes gazing back to the papers. “I- I am talkative!„ you raise an eyebrow. Neither of you believe her words. But it just makes you laugh.
You walk closer to her, cupping her cheeks in your hands as your nose almost touch her. “It's okay. I'll show you how it feels to be loved. Let's just give us some time.„
You then proceed to walk away, under Neuvillette's gaze as he watches closely for Furina's reaction. Her cheeks flush bright red as she stares at your back before shouting.
“What do you mean give us some time?! There's no way I'd date someone like you!„ she hears you chuckle, and she knows she is now going to be teased.
“You're assuming things, ma très chère amie. I never said we would become a thing... Did I?„ you smirk, stopping in your track to watch her expression.
“You-! You implied it, imbécile!„ she runs to you, gently punching against your chest as she pouts. And then... You just lead her back home, promising her to come first thing tomorrow to go on a walk with her.
Perhaps you two will truly become something eventually.
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/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuichi's property. do not copy, repost or translate without permission.
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barcalover86 · 10 months
Note
Hey, can u do a Gavi or Pedri prank, where reader buys him those dissolvable swim trunks, and makes he wears them while there on vacation or at a pool party with friends.
Prank 2- Pablo Gavi
I really love this idea! Thank you for your request!!
I'm so sorry for the wait!
Prank 1 here
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You saw days ago a tik tok where a girl pranked her boyfriend, giving him as a present some dissolvable swimsuit. You wanted to try on it so hard. You were dying to see his reaction.
That made you buy a black one, hoping that at today's pool party with his friends, he would wear it.
He was happy that you've got him a gift and that made you giggle, knowing what's going to happen.
Pablo was a watter boy. He loves to swim. Today's not gonna be different.
When you saw that, he was getting into the pool with his friends, you took your phone and started to record it.
"Why are you smiling like that, y/n?" asked Aurora.
You giggled sweetly before telling her the prank you've pulled on her brother.
"No way!" she said excited. "Oh, please, record it. I wanna see his reaction so bad!"
It didn't last, not even 5 minutes, until Pablo started to realise that there's something wrong with his shorts. He reached for it, and when he took his hand out of the water, he saw a piece of its material.
"Que!?" he said quietly, but somehow everyone heard it.
You started to laugh hard with Aurora and Pablo got really embarrassed after realising what's happened.
"Oh, who did that?" said Mario while laughing.
"Who do you think?" you said.
"You are a genius, I swear to god."
You stopped the video and you went to Gavi, while everyone was still laughing and talking about other type of pranks.
You smiled at him and he turned red.
"Amor.." he said softly and he was about to cry. You felt so bad that you've got him a towel to cover.
"Don't cry, it was just a prank." you tried to console him.
"I know and I'm not mad. I'm just so embarrassed right now. Everyone is laughing at me."
"No, no, cariño. They are not laughing at you. They are laughing about this situation. You know we all love you."
"They still laugh because I'm naked." he said before you helped him putting the towel on his body.
"They already forgot about it."
He shook his head and hid his face in your neck while starting to sob.
"Mi amor.." you said, now clearly feeling bad.
You told everyone that you are going in the house.
"Use protection, hermano!"
"Oh, shut up, ok!?" Gavi responded angry with tears in his eyes.
"No need to be mad, alright." said Mario in surrender.
Gavi took a quick shower before returning to you, sitting on his bed. You smiled at him and opened your arms to hug.
He hugged you back while you were rubbing gently his back.
"I'm really sorry.."
"It's ok."
You then kissed his lips and nose while he blushed.
"But please.. don't make such pranks to me. You have no idea how excited I was that you had gotten me a gift and how embarrassed I was when I'd got rid of it."
You nodded and he smiled.
"But still. You were so pretty with it..especially when it.. suddenly disappeared." you said with a confused face.
He laughed a bit which made you relax a bit.
"Don't make me blush more, princesita." He said while putting his nose on your neck.
He kissed it then took you into his arms to cuddle.
The next day, you talked to everyone to forget about it and when Pablo talked to his friends, no one was saying anything about yesterday.
2nd Masterlist
If you want to see prank fincs with Gavi-> @pablitogavii (she started it)
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mysticmellowlove · 6 months
Note
Yan making fem reader nervous. She is usually decently confident and she still wants to lead a relationship with him but one day when she is hanging out with him he looks at her and asks why she seems distant to him still. She then looks at him and explains that he actually makes her shy and that she doesn’t want to scare him off. And him being in awe that he makes HER SHY!?!?!?!?!?!?!
note; it's a little deviated but i like how it turned out, also my power cut off and nearly deleted the entire thing :)
warnings; yandere male, sub yan, fem reader, comfort?, fluff mostly
It didn't take long for him to notice that his girlfriend was acting differently. He was confused, everything had started off so well. They met one day for coffee and just like that he endeared himself to her but all of a sudden...
He grunted as he picked up the kettle and poured the now boiled water into the two cups he had set out for the two of them. Had she found out about him blackmailing her boss? Or maybe she figured out that he had sabotaged her friend's car so she'd be in a crash?
Had she figured out that he was the one who was stealing her underwear off the line and from her washing basket? He couldn't help himself, she just smelt so good.
His fingers twitched in nervousness, he couldn't let her go now. She was getting used to him and he was so fucking in love with her.
He picked up the cups and carried them to the lounge room where she sat on the couch. She seemed to be looking out the window at the pouring rain, a contemplative look on her face and a slight blush on her cheeks. He sighed and put the cups down before sitting next to her, his arm went to sling around her shoulder only for her to slightly flinch away from him.
"Alright, what's up? Has something changed between us?" He asked, his voice verging on desperation. She seemed shocked as she turned to look at him, her mouth dropping open.
"Of course no..." Before she could finish her sentence he cut her off as he fell from the couch and kneeled in front of her. The resounding bang of his knees hitting the floor made her jump as she looked down at him. His hands went to her knees in a bid to keep her there in front of him, he squeezed them desperately.
"Don't give me that bullshit! Please love, you've been ignoring me for the past couple of days, I promise that whatever I did I can make up for it just please don't leave me!" He pleaded with her, his hands on her knees tightened as he looked imploringly up at her face. She seemed to be frozen, her eyes similar to that of a doe as she looked at him.
"That's not.... it's..." She trailed off as delicate laughter left her mouth, soon it dissolved into uncontrollable giggles.
"I'm sorry it's just that, I think I may have been mistaken." His heart rushed at the words that left her mouth, his mind breaking down into the worst case scenario.
"I was a little intimidated." His mind stopped as his eyes widened a little. She was feeling... scared of him? His hands shook as he closed his eyes just as his head dropped. Why was she scared? Why did she feel that way? Was it something he had said? Did she know?
"I mean, you're kinda everything I could ever want." Her voice went bashful as her hands closed over his own, easing the tension in his fingers as she soothingly stroked over his knuckles.
"And I'm just... well I'm just me." She admitted as she pulled his head up, making him look her in the eyes. His heart deflated at the situation. His love, the brightest star in his sky, the most enchanting woman he had ever met... was shy? It made him want to laugh, he could imagine the hearts in his eyes at this very moment.
"That's a little weird to say and all but you're the perfect gentleman, always so kind and I just... well I really love you that's all." She laughed as if she didn't know what to do with herself. He was the same, all he could do was look into her eyes as he bit down his tongue. All he wanted to do was shout how much he loved her and how she was perfect for him because he just knew that she was.
At the moment though he needed to give her a massive hug... and maybe fuck her in front of the mirror to show her just how perfect she really was in his eyes.
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chapter five: fucking situations, circumstances, miscommunications
pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!reader
summary: Six months ago, you were appointed to be Head Nurse to the Avengers by Tony Stark. Every day, you count your lucky stars, knowing the horrible past you quickly ditched back in England. It holds you back, restrains you, from getting close to anyone when on your new job.
That's until you met and fell in love with Bucky Barnes. The supposed assassin with a heart of gold, who seems to be eager to get to know you. To peel back your layers piece by piece, but could you trust him once you're laid before him raw and vulnerable?
masterlist
PREVIOUS PART -- CHAPTER FOUR: WHO ELSE DECODES YOU?
warnings: language, mentions of sex (no smut), self deprecation, angst (!)
word count: 3.9k
Taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @cjand10 @blackwidownat2814 @blackbirdwitch22 @laughterafter  @blackhawkfanatic @mcira @bxckybxrnes24 @rachellovesloki @toffeacademia @bean-bean2000 @lana525 @selella
A/N: im so sorry okay? but I promise, the fruits of patience are always sweet (is that right)! hope u enjoy, and don't worry only five more chapters until I stop torturing the pair to pine longingly... also phase one is complete, so I'll be taking a two week break before starting phase two: the falling rollout! stay tuned :)
It turns out you were wrong. You had been speaking to Nat — Wanda was off somewhere with Vision — and you talked her out of the notion that you were falling in love with Bucky. Because of course you aren’t…you can’t afford to. Falling in love made a mess of you, there’s no way it’s going to happen so soon.
When you first set foot in New York, it felt like a fresh start. Sure, you’d imagine if all went well, then a few years down the line you’d find yourself opening up again. Not doing it so soon, and certainly hadn’t imagined in your wildest dreams that it would be reciprocated.
You convince yourself you’ve imagined it. And of course, you did. Because in the night, Bucky had left you and your scheduled movie night last minute, to go out on the town with Steve. He had invited you, but you’d declined. Maybe you’ve weirded him out with admitting you’re more attracted to brunettes — maybe he’s figured it all out and is now trying to avoid you, to let you down gently. 
And when you’re just about to fall asleep after tormenting yourself with all the awkward ways he’s trying to avoid you, because he’s too nice to tell you — that’s when you hear it. Moaning and groaning of a man and woman through the wall, the hard and rough pounding of what can only be a bed frame against a surface, and the man is undoubtedly Bucky. You'd recognise his voice anywhere. Your heart sinks as you immediately walk out of your room, where you can hear everything, heading to the kitchen, unable to handle it. It feels like your insides will be spilled all over your front and the floor. Trying to get the images out of your mind of Bucky and another woman entangled…like that. Clutching at your chest, because your heart just burns and your eyes are full of water and everything’s blurry, shaky hands reaching for a glass of cold water to dissolve the lump in your throat.
Why are you upset? Bucky is a grown man, fully capable of making his own decisions and choosing the women he wants to sleep with. It’s not his fault he doesn’t choose you. So why does it make you so upset, that you’re quietly stifling your sobs in an empty, cold kitchen?
You feel like your heart has been ripped out — once again doomed to be romantically interested in the one who would rather choose an inanimate rock over you. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but still. You don’t know how long you stand there, the only light a warm orange spilling over the black kitchen island, and think every single spark of hope in you away. The look of desire on his face…maybe it was platonic affection. You mistook it for something more, because you’ve never seen that look haunt anyone's features before. Maybe he looks like that at everyone.
And then you hear hurried footsteps, and the unmistakeable, juggernaut-like clack of women’s heels. You straighten, and she appears. Wrapped in a red dress, Bucky’s favourite shade, that accentuates every part of her so flawlessly, and her lipstick hasn’t even budged, despite the mess of her hair and other parts of her makeup. She offers you a soft smile as she passes, but you can’t help yourself. How has her lipstick not even smudged a little?
“Wow, you’re so pretty, oh my God. What lipstick do you use, and how the hell has it still not budged? Girl, I need the brand and name, like, right now.” You usher her over, to inspect her perfect lips more closely. Even the warm light makes her seem a million times more attractive, and you can’t help yourself.
You hold her face in your hands while she rattles off some obscure brand you’ve never heard of, making a mental note to search it up later. “It looks amazing,” you say, meeting her eyes, which are the most warm shade of brown. 
You know you can never hold a candle to the beauty of this woman, even at your very best, but you’d be damned if you didn’t tell her of her radiance.
“Thank you,” she blushes and straightens, pulling away from your hold. Her outfit is so amazing, you can’t even blame Bucky for being so taken with her. You’re right there with him.
“Flirting with my date, are you?” Comes Bucky’s voice from the doorway, and you both turn to look at him. Then you remember yourself, and your situation. She’s just had sex with Bucky, and here you are, complimenting her lipstick.
And in this moment, you dig to your lowest familiar, and compare yourself to her. It’s not a competition, you know better than to fight over a man, but even if there were…you would lose by a landslide. Objectively.
Absentmindedly, you touch your hair while glancing at hers, dark, perfectly curled locks swishing about her shoulders and touching her elbows, even at its messiest. You don’t know if you want to look like her, or to be with her, in this moment.
“No, no. I was just asking her about her lipstick, that’s all.” She hands you her phone, ignoring Bucky, and asks you to enter your number with a wink. You happily comply, and almost miss the way her face falls when she reads over your name, and glances over her shoulder at Bucky. 
Clearly, you’ve missed something. You don’t want to ask. “I’ll call you,” she gestures to you, leaving you with a kiss on the cheek. You blink several times, trying to process the events of the past hour or so.
You’ve never been more confused. How did you end up with Bucky’s date’s number? “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you doll?” He’s got that signature smirk on his face, but you look away. Something about his messy hair and flushed cheeks seems a sight that isn’t reserved for you, but the lover who just left the compound.
“No, I— I was just complimenting her, I swear. She seems nice, though. Are you gonna see her again?” He joins you at the table, and up close you can see the slight sheen of sweat on his brow, and you hate the way the sight of it stirs something in your lower belly. You want him, so bad. You want to be the reason he emerges from his room flushed and you leave with messy hair like you just rolled out of bed. Alas, it isn’t in the cards for you. Fortune and romance have never been entangled lovers in the story of your life, and you shouldn’t expect anything different in this chapter of it. You take another cold sip, hoping to swallow the bitter realisations you've stumbled across tonight.
“Well, considering I don’t even know her name, and you got her number, I doubt it.” He laughs, hoping you’ll chuckle alongside him. You’re not in the mood to talk about his sex life, and you feel like you’re about to throw up because of it, yet again. Now knowing his type is a dark, sexy feminine energy, you can’t bear it anymore. You are the very antithesis of it all — light, and soft. Maybe he even finds you sweet. But you’re not the one, not the one he wants.
You may be the one he spills his secrets to, but you know you’ll never be the red-dress femme fatale he takes to bed, or into his heart.
“Are we still on for tomorrow?” You ask, sparing him a quick glance then returning to look at your hands that just look too wrong. Palms too wide, fingers too stubby. She had hands like a fucking nail polish model. Everything about you feels wrong and misshapen in this moment. Bucky’s wondering what he did to upset you. He’d overheard you talking to Natasha, explaining clear as day that you’re not attracted to him. He’s simply taken it as his sign to move on, to try and bury his heart that he’s laid in your chest, instead of letting it consume him. That's why he said yes to Steve, why he left you to go out. He didn't want either of you to stew in uncomfortable silence because he doesn't want to admit what he heard and how badly it hurt him. To confess would be to lose you, and so he buries it all deep down. Just like everything else.
But it’s a lot harder than expected, especially when he brings a girl home, for the first time in decades, but all he can think of is you. He’s manoeuvring her hips and imagining them to be yours, kissing her lips and pretending you’re the one gasping against his mouth. He ended up so wrapped in the fantasy, your name had slipped past his lips as he came, even though he tried to hide it in a murmur against her shoulder. But, of course she heard. She’d lectured him for a couple of minutes while throwing her clothes back on, about how he shouldn’t be fucking around if his heart is so set on one woman, that he says her name when lost in the throes of passion with another. Then, she’d spun on her heel and left, and he’d departed to find you. 
To tell you, he can’t do it anymore. Despite your feelings of romantic apathy when it comes to him, he can’t say the same. He is enamoured, infatuated, obsessed with you, and he can’t let you go. He can't bury his feelings when they just keep building up like waves and crashing over the grave of his heart -- he can't keep it to himself. Even if your words seal the vault closed forevermore, he needs to hear them. He was so ready to beg for one date. One chance, one kiss, one taste. Maybe not in the moment, seeing as you wouldn’t appreciate the taste of another woman’s wine on his lips. He wouldn’t either, if that night you’d gone on the date with Steve, he'd let his impulsive thoughts win just moments after you kissed another's mouth. He wonders how you kiss as he touches his own lips in thought -- would you let the other take charge and cover him in sweet pecks, or do you prefer to taste like passion and sin? These were the only thoughts circling his smitten mind as he searched for you longingly. 
And then he found you, illuminated so beautifully in the light of the kitchen island, and it occurs to him, just how there is no competition between you and other women. They could never hold a candle to you, to the radiant sun of your essence and your beauty.
The woman seems surprisingly smitten by you, with your eyes on her lips, and her giving you her number. He doesn't blame her for feeling that electric pull to you. He's right there with her.
He also didn’t miss the look she gave him over her shoulder, after reading your name. She knows, that it’s you. She won’t come back, she knows better than that. But he can’t tell you that that’s the reason he won’t be seeing her again, and you won’t even look at him. 
“Yeah, doll. Of course. I’m not bailing on you again.” He smiles, gently touching your cheek, and you pull away before his skin makes contact.
“Alright, I’ll see you then.” You turn around and walk out, the tears in your eyes dripping down your face and leaving a salty trail all the way to your door.
                                            ————————
In the night, you’d done a lot of thinking. And you’ve decided to let him go, to let him do what he wants. He’s not evil, he’s certainly not wicked. He just doesn’t want you. That’s not something to hold against him, how could it be? He doesn’t owe you romance just because you want it with him. You’ll cherish his friendship, his strictly platonic affection, but you’ll let any thought of a relationship with him go. 
You’ll be all the better for it. 
And so you stand in the communal living room, rechecking your Taylor Swift themed tote bag that you’ve kept everything you need. You had taught Bucky how to bake his favourite brownies the other day, so you packed a few of those in case he gets hungry. Your favourite crisps, drinks for the both of you. Headphones, a charger for your phone, a claw clip to tie up your hair if it gets too hot, car keys, wallet…
It’s sunny outside, so you’ve opted for a long, maxi summer dress in a dark dusty rose colour and covered in gorgeous flowers, golden hoops and necklace like always, and your hair falls over your back loose and natural with a small accent braid weaving through the strands. You’ve also kept the makeup light — blush, kohl and mascara, and a tinted lip balm. You feel oddly good about your appearance, when you’re not in front of anyone else. When there’s nobody else to compare yourself to, you allow yourself to feel pretty. You throw on a thin white cardigan, grab your tote bag and head over to Bucky’s room to collect him.
You two are going out today. And you plan on buying him a surplus of items, all because of the massively fat pay check you get given courtesy of Tony. You’ll also be taking the subway, something Bucky’s a bit afraid of, but—
You almost crash into Steve when you turn the corner, in your mind being preoccupied with making an itinerary of where you’re going. He catches you, grabbing you around the arms. The both of you are a little on edge, given the failed outing of a few nights ago, but you had let him down gently. You did tell him you want to stay friends, even as he looked embarrassed and laughed about it. You didn’t tell him about your crush on Bucky, having decided to keep it under strict lock and key after being consumed by the feeling of wanting to kiss Bucky instead. You knew, in that moment, that nothing would've made him feel worse. You meet Steve’s pale blue eyes, offering him an apologetic smile.
“Oh my God, Steve. I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there. Did I hurt you?” He shakes his head, chuckling at your panic.
“No, no. I’m completely fine. Don’t worry, dear. You look good.” He compliments you fondly, eyeing you up and down once. You smile, forgetting the initial panic that surged through your system.
You take the compliment at face value. “Thank you, Steve. That’s really nice of you.”
“Where are you going today?” He asks in polite conversation. You’ve already talked about this, about where you’re off to. Maybe he forgot.
“Oh, Bucky and I are going downtown today! I was planning on getting him some new clothes, you know, his current closet seems a little out of date. We’ll probably be back by 7 at the latest, but it depends on how picky he is, you know him. Oh, and before I forget, Denise is in charge while I’m away. Mr Fury and Mr Stark haven’t told us that there’s any major missions today, so it’s mainly the barebones team, so if anything happens today, you report to her. I’d much prefer to enjoy my first day out in months, but in case of absolute emergencies, of course you can contact me, alright? You’re the most responsible one of the bunch, so I’m trusting you to spread the message for me.” You gently squeeze his arm in reassurance. 
“Yeah, will do. You have fun today, okay? I’ll try my best to make sure nobody gets in a housefire or something. You’re one of the hardest working people I know, dear. You deserve this. And trust me, if you’re the one picking out the outfits, you could put him in a hot pink suit bejewelled to high heaven and he’d wear it happily.” 
You mouth drops. “You know what, that’s an amazing idea, thank you.” He laughs at that, and you smile. You’ve always been treated by past-partners like you’re the most unfunny person on the planet, like your jokes are tolerated and not laughed at. So it always surprises you when people find you funny. You welcome it, but it feels strange nonetheless.
And then Bucky appears, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. “Ah, the prodigal super soldier emerges,” you say, hand wrapping around his back almost stiffly as you try to calm your aching heart at the sight.
You know this will haunt you, when you’re feeling down on yourself. You’ll clutch at your chest once again, feeling stupid at the fact you ever thought this Adonis of a man would ever look at you twice. Why would he?
But for now, his friendship is enough. It has to be.
“Uh huh. Should we go, doll?” He tilts his head extremely close to yours, and it takes every conscious muscle in your body to stop yourself from closing your eyes. No need to embarrass yourself.
“Yeah. Let’s go.” You turn to the other supersoldier in the room, currently being the one left out. “Bye Steve. Please tell everyone what I told you.” He nods.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” You smile and let Bucky lead you away, waving a quick goodbye over your shoulder.
“I wanted to ask, was last night awkward?” You try to ignore the comment as you both walk down the street, heading to his favourite bistro for breakfast. The sun is shining, the streets smell like something that isn’t piss, and you’re spending the day with your favourite person.
“Hm, no not really.” He stops the both of you at a busy intersection, pulling you into an alley, and pushing you against the wall. His arm is still secure around your waist so your back doesn’t crash too hard against the eroding brick and mortar, but unfortunately that means your hands end up on his…firm chest, and your thumbs can’t help but soothingly stroke from side to side. You can’t meet his eyes.
“Then why are you avoiding eye contact? Is there something I did wrong? Are you upset with me? Look at me, doll. Please.” His tone is pleading, borderline pathetic, but neither of you care. Your eyes meet his, and you try your best to not get lost in his eyes like sinking ships, so inviting that it takes everything in you to not jump.
To not kiss him. You crave to know what his lips taste like, but you shouldn’t. You keep trying to bury these intense feelings, and yet they keep building up like waves and crash over your grave, resurrecting you. And it feels amazing to be alive.
“I’m just…awkward about these kinda things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Sex. I mean, I heard you through the wall with Camille. And then, ten minutes later you were speaking to me like you weren’t just doing…all of that. It’s strange. I—“
“Do you think it’s bad? That I’m having sex?”
“I…what? No. No, no, Bucky, I’m not shaming you for having sex, God knows I should be the last one judging you for that…it’s just…I’m not used to that. People I’m close to... we all talk about it a while after...you know. I’m just not used to hearing you have sex and then seeing your face, like, ten minutes after. That’s all.” You smile then, touching his cheek as a way to assure him you’re telling the truth. Half of it, at least.
He leans into it so sweetly. “Okay. If that’s all, then… We should get going.” You nod, despite every bone in your body protesting moving away from this intimate moment. He feels the same, because every fear he’s ever had disappears at the warmth of your hand on his face. His eyes travel to your lips and you fix yourself, smoothing down your dress.
“You look absolutely beautiful in your outfit, by the way.” He silently adores you as you double check nothing’s been stolen from your bag, although you doubt someone is going to sneak between you two what with your hyper vigilance and Bucky’s enhanced senses.
You laugh. “You always think I look beautiful no matter what I wear. Even if I wore your sweatpants, you’d still say the same.” Smoke covers the both of you in a misty haze, but he swears he’s never seen you any clearer.
“Because you still look beautiful to me. You always do. Just accept the compliment, will you? You know you don’t have to work hard to deserve compliments, don’t you? They should be freely given.” He strokes your hair, admiring the tiny braid in between his fingers.
“I’m learning to.” You both smile at each other, and you let yourself feel the sweet swell of your heart, for once. Maybe that’s what will work. You just need to feel it all, and get it all out of your system. That’s how you end your crush on Bucky — feel until your reservoirs are empty, until you look over him one day and see nothing more than a good friend, a best friend even. It might takes years, it might even be next week. But this is your plan. 
“Now, should we go?” You extend your hand in a silent offering, to reconnect the bridge that you had temporarily abandoned in your moonlit insanity. He takes it, placing his metal hand firmly in your grasp and interlocking fingers. You notice how he’s wearing long sleeves and gloves, even in this peculiar hot day in November.  He must be boiling in that leather jacket.
For now, you lean into him, into his warmth even though you can feel yourself start to sweat, and you both walk hand in hand. To any outsider looking in, you two paint the picture of the perfect couple. You admire the red and orange leaves against a sky the colour of the eyes that are trained on you — memorising the curve of your nose and the pillow of your lips. In the bistro, you two sit comfortably close together, laughing silently over everything and nothing — like you’ve been dating for years.
The rest of the day goes by smoothly, the both of you laughing like everything’s funny. Like teenagers on the first date — giddy and carefree. Your phone doesn’t buzz once, and you love the feeling of Bucky’s hands on you. He always loves to touch you, whether it’s tracing your palms or leaning his chin on your shoulder in the subway because you’re on his lap in the only spare seat available. You love it too, never knowing someone would be so eager, so desperate to touch you and feel you so innocently.
You’ve always felt shunned — like you’re only worth touching for a partner’s sexual satisfaction, and other times you were made to be ignored and tolerated. But if even a friend can cherish you in this special, sacred way, you can’t help but imagine what a true, enamoured lover would do.
Both of you want it, can feel that your feelings could be something worth a forever and a half — but of course, misunderstandings have to get in the way.
They always do.
NEXT PART
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the-kr8tor · 8 months
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Out of Style
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 6k
Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than the reader, cw food mentions, cursing, cw spiders, tw arachnophobia, hurt/comfort, suggestive content, Fluff.
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Thread the Needle Masterlist
CHAPTER 8 >>> CHAPTER 9
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Closing the door quietly, you press your sleep deprived head on the wood, cursing your cowardice. You saw him yet you chose to ignore him.
You sit down on your cold bed, books and bag clattering on the floor. Pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes, your mind flips back to five minutes ago. How Hobie lingers on the sideline, waiting for you. From where you stood you couldn't possibly see his face. You have a hunch on what he feels though, maybe embarrassed that you saw him like that? Confused on why you ran from him? Probably. You imagine it, but one emotion you couldn't possibly wish to see: anger. Furious that you didn't let him say his peace, or annoyed that you disturbed his time with that woman.
You sigh, eyeing the package Peter gave you. Grabbing it from the carpet, opening the small paper bag, you see the spider that bit Hobie, body trapped inside a glass square casing.
You feel like that dead spider right now, the bug that bit more than it can chew, ending up hurting itself because it took a chance.
Looking at the arachnid, you spot its silhouette, circular body with eight arms protruding from the sides. You have a lightbulb moment.
Taking the leather vest you've thrifted on your own and tailored specifically for Hobie. You flip it on its back, showing the dreaded empty space. You bite your lip, striding over to your table, grabbing fabric chalk to draw the spider's outline.
Looking at it from a distance, from the spikes on the shoulder, to the various pins and patches you've placed on the leather. Some of them show your influence on the design, scattered flowers and references from your time together. A stereo that looks exactly like the one you two always brought everywhere you went, the pink notebook, a catalyst for the start of your friendship together. Even a green puppet that looks like Terry. You think it's perfect, now to paint the spider.
Excited to get started, you suddenly realize if he still wants to help you. After your dramatic exit, doubt lingers in the back of your mind. Will he even go to the show now that he's got someone? Someone better, someone who isn't so afraid of saying how they feel. Someone who's more like him.
Your heart shudders at the thought of standing alone from now on, fingers tracing over the cherry patch that you've painstakingly embroidered, peripheral glancing over the picture Yuri took of you two on the boat, it's a bit blurry, you're smiling as he carries you in his arms, he matches your expression, eyes closed in delight.
You make the choice, not wanting to cut off ties with your best mate just because you hurt yourself. Hobie doesn't know how much you like him, he's not a telepath that can read your mind.
You bravely face the truth.
Unrequited feelings bubbling to the surface, a sob breaks through, hot tears spilling over on the leather vest. Fabric chalk dissolving in your tears.
You decide, even if it kills you to do so.
You ran away again, mentally beating yourself up, lamenting all the things you should've done instead of running away.
You chew your bottom lip anxiously, shifting from leg to leg, playing with the frayed edges of a loose thread on the embroidered flowers that you've painstakingly stitched on your lace cami. Your eyes dart around the backstage of the fashion show, classmates running around to fix any last minute changes on their models. You on the other hand, sit by your lonesome, the plastic chair scrapes on the floor as you stand up by the umpteenth time, pacing around in your heavy platform boots that you've customized yourself. The little red butterfly wings painted on the back of the boots make it look like you're gliding around the wooden floors, chain rattling around the laces as you pace with unease.
The outfit you're wearing is a perfect partner to what was supposed to be Hobie's outfit. You worry that he won't show up, palms sweaty at the thought. But this is Hobie, he won't let you down, right? Unless he's with that woman right now then you have to accept your fate, which is you walking down that blasted runway.
Mrs. Williams peeks behind the curtain, you can briefly see the growing crowd behind her. Fuck, you internally curse biting at your nails, nail polish bitter as your tongue touches your nail.
"Five minutes till show time" Mrs. Williams roams her eyes around her frozen students and partners, eyes stopping on your form. "And only five minutes" she addresses you, your heart stops, fellow designers look at you with pity.
Your hope is dwindling.
You gulp down, lace cami hugging your torso uncomfortably, unbuttoning the sleeves of your white frilly blouse to give you some breathing room. You now regret wearing such an elaborate outfit, it was supposed to be a surprise for Hobie, wherever said man is.
Grabbing the bright red blazer draped on the back of the chair, you hug it against your chest, hand tracing the safety pins strategically placed on the back to look like wings. You calm down a bit, but not enough.
Someone taps your shoulder, hope blossoms, turning around, your hopeful smile fades, seeing your classmate Hannah looking at you apologetically.
"Sorry," she winces, knowing your predicament, bright pink hair noticeable against her darker clothing, "but can you help me with this stitch? Please, it'll only take a second, I just need you to hold this bit." she raises her partner's arm, a loose thread that has come undone in the seams sway slightly in the wind.
"Yeah, of course" you give her a polite smile.
"Thank you, y/n" she sighs, relieved. Her partner looks unbothered around the chaos.
Better be bored than not around, you thought. Maybe you shouldn't have come that day, you might've lived in ignorant bliss to what happened that fateful morning but at least your heart would still be in one piece. You miss him, even with what he did, Hobie is still your best friend after all, before you came to love him, first and foremost he's your friend.
You ignored his calls, too heartbroken to talk to him, even more so seeing him, that's why you told your RA not to let him inside your dorm, giving her the excuse that you're sick and want to be alone. With a raised eyebrow she accepted and understood, not asking any more questions. Maybe that was wrong of you to do, maybe talking to him like an adult was better. You can't blame him for finding someone else to warm his bed, you're not together, the only thing that cements his feelings for you was a very subtle confession and an almost kiss.
Your eyes start to glaze over again, lips trembling at the thought of him lying to you or worse you read the entire thing wrong. You have no idea what to make of everything, it doesn't help that he stopped trying to call days ago. You almost picked up one time, heartache taking over, you let the phone ring to what seemed to be endless.
"And done, thanks" Hannah smiles, you nod at her friendliness. "Don't worry he'll be here, maybe he's just stuck in traffic" she gives you a comforting pat on the back. "Thanks for telling about that embroidery trick by the way, it really helped"
"You're welcome" you don't acknowledge her theory. Turning around, you sit back down. Patchwork jeans made of scrap fabric from Hobie's own outfit uncomfortably scrape against your legs, feet bouncing anxiously. You want to get the show over with and rip your outfit off you. Blinking away tears at the thought of you repeating your final year just because of one (not so small) hiccup.
Watching as your classmates slowly filter out to the audience area to watch their creations walk down the runway, their partners staying behind to line up. You bravely stand up, breathing heavily. Draping the blazer on your shoulder, you make your way towards the line of models, already feeling out of place.
You hear Mrs. Williams announcing the start of the show. Tuning her out, you watch the double doors as if Hobie will miraculously appear behind it. Sniffing, you slyly try to wipe the tears that's been escaping from your eyes. Lining up at the far end, you hear the music starting, one by one they walk down the runway, loud cheers can be heard from the audience as their friends hype them up.
It was supposed to be a happy occasion for everyone, finally finishing the final year with a bang but your frown says otherwise, waiting like you're in line for the guillotine.
Wringing your hands nervously, you jump at the loud bang behind you, metal doors swinging, threatening to fall right off its hinges.
Your teary eyes widen at Hobie in all his glory, sporting the outfit you unceremoniously left on his doorstep.
The white shirt that you've painted to look like it has spray painted graffiti, barbed wire design on the collar, embroidered with silver thread. On top of it, he has a red blazer, matching yours. Numerous safety pins pinned on the lapel, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. The leather vest, the pièce de résistance sways in the gust of wind.
His leg halfway up from kicking the doors open. Ripped jeans in full display, lace peeking out from under the strategically placed rips. An asymmetrical half skirt made from red plaid fabric accentuates the outfit. To your surprise, he even added his own twist to it, wearing accessories that compliments your work. You find your own belt on his hips, belt buckle shining in the light. So that's where it went.
Hobie searches for you, chest heaving, looking like he ran a marathon just to get to the venue. His heart skips a beat when he finally spots you, lips parting in surprise at your clothes.
"Fuck me" he mumurs, glad he didn't yell the words out.
You stare at him flabbergasted, lips tugging into a smile. You don't have time to speak when Mrs. Williams announces your turn, saying Hobie's name instead of yours, like she has a sixth sense.
Hobie gives you a nod, conversing with him wordlessly, I've got this. Eyes staring intently at you as he passes through the curtains, loud roars and claps from the audience rings out. Peeking behind, you watch frozen as he walks like he owns the place, nonchalantly strutting the runway.
"Holy shit" You have no idea how someone can look a hundred times hotter than ever before. From where you're standing, you can see the giant spider you've stitched at the last minute on the back of his leather vest.
Hobie pauses for a second when he reaches the end of the runway, glaring at the photographer where everyone expected him to give a smolder. He turns around, determined to get back to your side.
You squeak when Hobie sees you peeking behind the curtains, Backing away, cherry earrings swinging wildly as you move. You stand alone in the middle of backstage, the place messy with discarded bags, scissors, threads and cloth.
Hobie ignores the cheering behind him, his eyes only on your form, face unreadable, taking long strides towards you. His heavy footfalls thump against the floor, acting like a countdown.
He moves as if a tether pulls him towards you.
Freezing in place, you have no idea what to do, whether to pull the loose thread or leave it completely. "Hobie, I–" he doesn't let you finish your sentence, crashing his lips to yours wordlessly. You hold your breath.
Teeth clashing to yours, Hobie holds your face with both hands, silver rings cold on your skin, afraid you'll disappear from his touch. His eyes tightly closed, he doesn't know whether it's adrenaline or the pressure of his affections for you, finally breaking the dam in one massive blast, pushing him to finally decide and kiss you. He lays his lips over yours, unmoving, waiting for you to reciprocate.
Your eyes are wide as saucers, hands floating right over his chest. Stomach in knots, heat rising to your cheeks. You're too surprised to kiss him back, he notices, pulling away. You see panic blooming on his face, breathing heavily against your lips.
"Fuck, I'm sorry" Hobie steps back, hurt written on his handsome face. Hands flying back to his sides.
"Shut the fuck up–" you quickly grab him by his vest's collar, pulling him with the same force he did, your lips meet his.
This time you kiss back, fervently. The thread is taut, snapping in the pressure.
His eyes widen for a second before he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you closer as humanly possible, his other hand holds yours that's gripping his vest tightly right above his hastening heart. He closes his eyes, savoring your lips. The idea of Unrequited love pops like a bubble in your mind, dissolving as he kisses you back.
Hobie's kisses match yours right to the beat, you pull him down by the scruff of his neck, legs tired from trying to reach him. He chuckles at your tenacity. The room filled with the sounds of your lips smacking against each other. The kiss is messy but steady, teeth gnashing, his lip piercing blocking you from feeling his entire lips, forcing you to tilt your head. The kiss was uncharted territory for the both of you but you're more than willing to explore it, you're sure Hobie feels the same, judging from how he moves with you in tandem, hand kneading at the soft skin of your nape.
Everything seems to click into place.
You don't want to pull away but your lungs are protesting against the lack of oxygen, Hobie feels like he could go on though. Reluctantly ending the kiss, you look at him breathlessly. Hobie has a growing grin on his kiss bitten lips, your lipgloss staining his.
Hobie swipes your lips with his thumb, cleaning the sheen he left on it, red staining his fingertip. "You alive in there?"
"You still have the gall to speak– after that?" You say through gulps of air.
He laughs deeply, pecking your lips once, twice, pausing for a second to admire your flustered face, he kisses again for the third time. He tries to stop again, this time you chase his lips before he could fully pull away.
Hobie chuckles deeply and full of endearment, you can feel his smile as you peck his lips.
Someone coughs loudly to get your attention, jumping away from his body, Hobie holds your hand firmly against him so that you don't fully leave his side. He glares at your professor, tapping her heeled foot impatiently.
"Whenever you're done, come outside and join the others we'll be announcing the top three" she raises a neat brow at you two, a rare smirk on her red lips.
The second she crosses the curtains, you give a knowing look at Hobie, laughing loudly. He lays his head on your shoulder, laughing with you.
"She caught us," you softly say in between laughs.
"And I'll do it again" he softly says against your soft blazer.
"Come on, let's not keep them waiting" you rub encouragingly at his arms.
He hums, leaving a quick peck on your lapel for good measure.
His familiar scent wafts on your right, calming your heart to a steadier beat. Hobie's arm is glued to your waist, hip to hip, holding you close. You can feel his lingering gaze on the side of your face, giving him a knowing side glance, a sly smile on your warm kiss bitten lips. For a moment you feel like you're the only two people in the crowd.
"What?" He asks coyly.
"You know what"
"Sure, Gromit" Hobie says against your hair, you playfully push him off with your hips, saving yourself from taking all the attention from your professor announcing the top three. Hobie chuckles, wrapping his arm tighter around your form, playing with the flowers on your top.
You can't seem to concentrate on what Mrs Williams is talking about, mind still reeling from the kiss and his touch. His fingers fiddling with the lace of your cami doesn't help with your attention span.
People start clapping around you, copying them to look like you're listening. By how your classmates stand side by side with their models on stage, Hannah beams in second place. You give her a big thumbs up.
While everyone claps for Flash in third, another classmate jumps excitedly to first place, hugging her partner in a tight embrace.
You don't even care that you didn't win, you've got a better prize right next to you.
"You were robbed, love" He whispers in your ear, the roaring crowd makes it difficult to hear him.
"I don't care, honestly," you say giddily.
"You won in my eyes anyway" Hobie nuzzles his cheek on your hair.
"C'mon" he tugs at your belt loop, leading you towards the exit. You follow, grinning widely.
"Excuse me! You in red!" Someone yells for you, looking over your shoulder, you see a tall man in an expensive looking suit, tailored just for him. "Yeah you, hi"
"Hello," you politely smile, "what can I do for you?"
"Yes, I'm a friend of your professor, Mrs. Williams. You caught my attention with your style and we would love you at our fashion house." He hands you a business card. "It's all in there, I'm sorry I don't have time to talk right now" on cue Mrs. Williams beckons him over, "but I'll be here on campus looking for new designers, so call and let me know. Or just ask Caroline– I mean Williams"
"Thanks, I'll look into it. Mr?" You read the card, recognizing the name of the brand. "Mr. Riley" finishing your sentence.
He nods with a smile, "oh, we're also looking for models, if you're interested–" Mr. Riley gestures towards Hobie who cuts him off before he could finish his spiel.
"Not interested" Hobie grits his teeth, impatiently tugging you away.
"Alrighty! Bye!" Riley looks terrified, walking away with a slouched posture.
"I think you scared him off" You playfully shove him.
"Don't care." He rolls his eyes "Where are we off to? Yours or mine?" Hobie fixes your cherry earrings to face the right side, warm fingers staying on the shell of your ear.
"Ours" you correct him, smiling widely, eyes full of fondness for the man right in front of you.
"Right," He mirrors your smile, beaming at you, "ours"
Hobie watches you through his side mirror, grinning from ear to ear at how you tightly wrap your arms around his waist. Your eyes closed in content, a ghost of a smile on your lips.
Hobie stops at a red light, he taps your hand curled around the other, getting your attention.
"Yeah?" You tilt your head to face him.
Hobie wishes he can rotate his head much further just to face you fully. "Checkin' to see if you're still with me. Thought you fell off"
"Bullshit, you would've noticed" you chuckle.
"You got me" he smiles, "hold on" Hobie feels a slight tug, looking up, the light turns green. His new found enhanced senses have perks.
The bike lurches forward, Hobie drives carefully, he has precious cargo after all. You notice, snuggling closer to his back as a thank you.
The wind nips at your face, Hobie makes sure to avoid potholes, slowing down before he hits speed humps. Holding your hand every time he stops at a red light.
Finally reaching home, Hobie gets off first before he helps you down. Hand reaching for yours.
"One kiss and you're suddenly a gentleman" you tease him, taking his hand in yours, palm hot against your cold one; melting the chill right off.
"Snog me more and you'll find out how much of a gentleman I can be" Hobie waits for your flustered face, instead he sees you smirk, a playful glint in your eyes.
"Oh I intend to find out" tapping his chest, you leave Hobie standing dumbfounded on the sidewalk, you step over to the houseboat. Laughing triumphantly.
"Fuckin' hell" he mumbles out, flexing his hand.
"Come on! I'm hungry!" You wave him over, bouncing on the balls of your feet. You can't believe the last time you were here you had your heart shattered, trying not to think about it, you intend to ask him without ruining the mood.
"Yeah, yeah, don't get pissy" Hobie unlocks the door, opening it for you to step inside.
There's tools and mechanical parts on what looks like a new coffee table, stopping in your tracks, you look at Hobie in confusion.
"Huh?"
"What?" He scratches at the back of his neck, looking at you through narrowed eyes, daring you to ask.
"Are you making a robot or something?" You dare ask.
"No, just tryin' to fix my answering machine" he huffs, picking up fallen tiny jagged edged pieces so you don't accidentally step on them.
Unlacing your boots, you take in your surroundings, taking note of the difference since you were last in his houseboat. The door to his bedroom is missing, the wooden floors looked like it was scrubbed till it's nothing but splinters, leaving marks on the wood, the once rickety table now a pile of mess on the corner.
"Should I even ask?" You raise a curious brow.
"Ask" Hobie gestures for you to go on.
"What the fuck happened here? It looks like a tornado wrecked the place. And where's your bloody door?!" You walk towards his room to find sheets thrown about, bed littered with the same metal parts and various sizes of screwdrivers. He's clearly obsessing over his machine.
Hobie sighs, he has no idea how to explain it to you, so he doesn't try. He decides to just lie about it, for now at least. You wouldn't even believe him, right?
"Found out why this place was so cheap" he internally apologizes to Finn for throwing him under the bus. "The door has rotten hinges, faucet's fucked, sprayed water all over the bloody place, that's why the floor looks like that. I slipped and fell to that table, almost broke my hip"
"Oh" you exhale, trying to get the words out. "When was this?" You put two and two together, yet you still ask.
Hobie notices your change in mood, taking a few steps closer to you after he drops the metal objects on the coffee table. He starts the difficult conversation for you. "When you ran" he tries not to make you feel guilty, "it was a misunderstanding, love"
"Shit," you close your eyes as if you're in pain.
"No one was here, it was the damn answering machine goin' haywire." Continuing his explanation, Hobie raises his arms to you, waiting for you to move on your accord, careful not to have a repeat scenario. "No one was here, yeah?"
"I'm a fucking Idiot" you move to embrace him, "'m sorry" sniffing, voice thick with guilt, you hold him closer. "I should've waited–"
"None of that from you. We're both bloody idiots for taking this long" he softly says near your ear, breath fanning over your skin, calming you down.
"I just thought…after the museum–"
"I know," he pulls away, cupping your face in his hand, "you should've seen me in here. It was like some looney tunes shit"
"Oh, I would pay good money to see that" you lean into his touch. After a beat you continue. "I'm sorry you had a shitty morning, then I had to add to it"
"Stop," Hobie shakes you in his arms, "let me get this straight with you, more direct, yeah?" You nod, waiting for him to continue. "You're it for me, no one else matters" your eyes get glassy, "That voice?" He points at the damned answering machine, laying open on the settee. "Absolutely do not care for her. She's just a friend of the band, nothin' more" He makes good on his own promise, committing to it.
"I saw her on you before the concert" you say in a small voice. "I was…" shaking your head, you spot Terry perched on the floor of his bedroom. It would be easy for you to grab him to help find your words but you don't. Bravely choosing to stay in his arms. "Hurt, I know I didn't have the right to be. But…I don't fucking know" frustrated, you thump your head on his chest.
"I know," he understands, embracing you tighter, trying to absorb your pain so that you don't feel it anymore, for your sake. "I'm sorry" Hobie apologizes, voice muffled by your hair. "Sorry" he says much clearer this time, exhaling a shaky breath.
Hobie apologizes for everything, from entertaining Lacey to taking this long to say how he truly feels for you and everything in between. His hand lays comfortably on your back, rubbing softly. You feel at home in his arms.
You don't know what he's apologizing for since you think it's your own fault, but you still accept, not knowing how to ask him. Instead, you savor his warmth, leather scratching your cheeks.
After a few seconds, you pull away, hands holding his face like a fine jewel. You take a few breaths, admiring his face, tracing the lines on his skin, you want to wipe all the worry off his face. Hobie closes his eyes, heartbeat syncing with yours.
He opens his eyes, staring at you like you're the moon in the night sky, out of reach but mesmerizing nonetheless.
"You hungry?" Hobie clears his throat, pulling away. He kisses your knuckles before he heads to the kitchen, no idea that he just stopped you from saying your piece.
You stand in the middle of his room, lips pouting. "I was gonna kiss you, you absolute knobhead"
Hobie stops in his tracks, he plays along, hands on his hips, acting exasperated. "That right?"
"Don't make me beg" you frown, actually serious.
He chuckles at your cute expression, "I just thought you were hungry, can't let my girl starve"
My girl, you're done for. Your breath hitches in your throat, skin on fire. "I am hungry" you sigh, surrendering, you'll get that kiss after dinner even if it kills you. Your Index finger scratches at your nail polish painted on your thumb nail, shyness creeping back again.
Hobie bites his lip, also yearning to give you what you really want. He reels himself in, opening the fridge, cold wafts onto his hot skin. His eyes leave your face for a moment.
"Fuck" he finds it empty besides some bottled water and a half eaten burger.
"Christ, you live like this?" You suddenly appear by his side, grimacing at the bare fridge. "Looks like you need a roommate to keep you in check, huh?" You take a personal mission to rile him up again just to see his rare bewildered face even if for only a split second.
"D'you know anyone available?" He takes on your challenge, standing to his full height, he faces you, closing the fridge door with his foot.
"I think I know someone" you smile prettily at him, making grabby hands over to him.
"If I give you a bloody kiss will you buy us a shawarma?" Hobie steps in your arms, you immediately wrap yourself around his waist.
"Let's just say I'll make it worth your while" looking up at him, your lips curling into a teasing smirk.
"Look how far I've fallen, the things I have to do just so I don't starve" he holds your chin, fingers warm on your already searing skin. Leaning closer to your face.
"You ass!" You laugh, pinching his abdomen, finding a wall of muscle underneath his shirt. Huh, that's new, you thought. Pulling away, you narrow your eyes at Hobie. "Feels like you are starving"
"Hmm?"
"You got leaner, we're definitely ordering extra rice for you" Hobie gives you a thankful peck on the cheek, already on his way to grab the utensils.
Metal scraping on ceramic, you run the dirty plates on the sink as Hobie wipes down his new coffee table. You feel eyes on your back, looking over your shoulder, he watches you, eyes full of endearment.
"I'm almost done, Hobs. Need to at least run it with water or it'll stink in the morning" you beam back, eyes crinkling in the corners.
Hobie's heart swells at the domesticity of it all, imagining the house with traces of you in it. He could put your sewing machine in the corner near the window so you could get proper light. He imagines your shampoo side by side with his bottle in the small shower, favourite Mug next to his chipped ones. Your perfume lingering in the air, staying with him wherever he goes.
"Love" he says quietly like a secret to be kept between you. You hum in acknowledgement, rinsing the cups.
He calls your name this time, not love, not Gromit or Cherry, your name. He says it with so much love laced in it you forgot that it's yours for a second.
You turn off the faucet, splashing your hands on the sink. Turning around, you give him a soft smile. "Yeah?"
Hobie pats the cushion next to him, "C'mere" you don't miss a beat, already walking towards the settee. "I can do that tomorrow" he holds his arms towards you.
You place yourself in his hold, enveloping you like warm sunlight. Sitting in comfortable silence, ignoring how the lumpy couch pokes your legs.
"I saw you by the way" you break the silence. He moves his head on top of yours, making a point that he's listening. "In the parking lot, a few days ago"
"Why didn't you say anythin'?" Hobie doesn't sound angry, just forlorn at the thought of you intentionally ignoring him.
"I didn't know what to say" you finally look at him, eyes as big as the plates you were rinsing. "Then Peter came up to me–I," you exhale, "I'm a coward, Hobie. I should've at least tried to talk to you"
"Honestly, I didn't know what I was gonna say to you that day" He rubs a stray eyelash from your cheek. "I wouldn't know what would've happened if we did talk"
"Sorry for not answering your calls and barring you from my dorm" you apologize again, swallowing the lump in your throat.
"Don't be," he kisses the crown of your head, assuring you.
"If it's any consolation…" you sniff, tamping down the tears threatening to spill. "Peter found out that the spider that bit you wasn't a regular one"
"What?"
"Yeah, he's a biology major, really likes spiders for some reason. Met him through an old study group. Anyway, he said it was some kind of mix? Not sure, but he practically gushed about it" you play with the lace on his pants while you ramble.
"Did he elaborate?" Hobie's fully invested, any clues to what's rushing in his veins right now is very much appreciated.
"The thing is, he didn't know what mix it was or how that sort of thing could happen. He called it a freak of nature" you chuckle. "You're fine though, right? You didn't feel weird or anything?" Rubbing his arm in concern, brows knitting together.
"It got a bit itchy but that's it" it hurts him to lie to you, but even Hobie himself doesn't completely know what's happening to his body. Just to be safe, he won't tell you, until he can figure it out at least.
"Okay, good" You lay your head back down on his chest with the intention to finally tell him how you truly feel for him. "Hobie, I–"
"You look good by the way– shit sorry go on" he accidentally cuts you off.
"No, you were complimenting me so please go on" your lips curl into a mischievous smile. Staring at him head on.
Hobie scoffs, rolling his eyes, smiling through it all. "I said you look bloody fit" he eyes your outfit a few seconds longer than he intended.
"You look really handsome," you turn his compliment around, "like holy shit, mate. It's unfair how good you looked on the runway"
"Mate? You havin' a laugh? Who you callin' mate?" He pokes your waist. "I just confessed my undying love for you and you're out here callin' me 'mate'?" Your giggling stops when he says that word.
"You love me?" You ask, face serious. Your pulse beats rapidly, palms sweaty.
"Yeah, too much I think" Too much for you. He thinks, afraid of stifling you with his love. He tried to play it off. Hobie doesn't throw that word around loosely but he has said it in his mind to you a thousand times before, it feels routine by now.
"I don't think it's too much" your eyes are starting to get glossy again. "I think it's the right amount"
You suddenly feel anxious saying it back, yet it's Hobie, your Hobie who taught you how to tie your shoelaces properly so that other kids won't make fun of your velcro trainers. Hobie who was there for you when you had your heart broken for the first time. Hobie who you came to love more with every passing year with him. Your Hobie.
"You don't have to say it back" He says with a small smile, voice thick, "won't force you–"
"You're a fucking idiot, Hobart Brown" you say, clinging to his shirt that you've lovingly made just for him, every stitch you've poured in has love written all over it. "And I love you too"
You lean in, eyes closed, hands placed fondly on his cheeks. This time, you're the one who takes his breath away. Hobie sighs into the kiss, content, feeling your emotions through it all.
This one felt more proper, more familiar than the first one, made sweeter with the love confession. No rushing, no one finally interrupting the moment, and yet still slightly unfamiliar, good thing you have a willing partner to get familiar with. Getting used to the kiss, you swipe your tongue, encouraging him to not hold back.
He kisses back fervently, warm and slow with no ounce of urgency. Hobie's stomach is in knots, hands flying to cup your face.
You move your leg over to his lap, straddling him. Hobie lets out a sound from the back of his throat as his shoulder blade hits the armrest of the sofa.
Pulling away, "Is this okay?" You tentatively ask, waiting for any signs of apprehension from Hobie.
"Yes" He says breathlessly, you can see stars in his eyes. Smiling, leaning down to continue kissing him.
Strong hands steadying you, yet still holding you respectfully, avoiding the bare skin where your blouse rode up. Electricity tingles from Hobie's fingertips, shocking you slightly through your blouse, you take it as your nerves acting up.
You feel a tear escape, it slides down on your cheek, landing directly on Hobie's thumb that's been caressing your skin. He pulls back, worried.
"I'm okay" you say, breathless, eyes roaming his concerned face. Another tear rolls down on your soft skin, "they're happy tears," smiling, more tears flow out of your eyes that's crinkling in the corners.
Hobie looks up at you with so much love, your heart inflates tenfold. He has a lopsided smile, eyes mirroring yours.
"Stay with me tonight?" He wipes your tears for you, careful with his rings.
Your eyes narrow at him teasingly, mustering your best flirty smile, brows wiggling, you wordlessly have a conversation with Hobie.
"Fuck off" He laughs breathlessly, "I didn't mean it like that" you felt the vibration on his chest when he laughed, laying down fully on him, eyes practically shaped like hearts, you follow through with your own laugh.
"I've never thought confessing would be so tiring" you joke, yawning for effect.
it's contagious, he follows your yawn with his own. "It's because we've been doing a lot of snogging"
"Mm-hmm, it's definitely better than exercise. More fun too"
"Wanna exercise again?" He rolls his dice.
"I could burn some calories" You play along, giggling against his waiting lips. Hobie rolls a perfect twenty.
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A/N: LET'S GOOOOOO 🎉
Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it, reblogging encourages me to write more ❤️
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