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#'but no one will read it if its not there' who cares? if you think the sites a scam for abusers who cares about how many hits you get?
lcvclywon · 3 days
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in sickness and in health
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synopsis After a long fight with Jay you find yourself giving him the silent treatment. Leaving you curled up alone sick in your room, with your only comfort being the instant tteokbokki you had microwaved for yourself earlier. However it seems Jay knew where to be and what to say at exactly the right times.
warnings: mentions of food, mentions of sickness, mentions of kissing, pet names (honey), slight angst, I made YN as the 6th member of lesserafim so that the whole same building thing made sense so...js roll with it pls 😁, also not proof read!, slight fighting
genre ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ hurt to comfort
pairings: idol!jay x idol!reader, established relationship
wc ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ around 1.14k
thoughts frm yuya 💭 i know i said i was gonna go on a hiatus but i needed a serotonin boost from writing after doing a horrendous maths paper.... so semi hiatus i guess ^^ anywaysss this drabble has been rotting in the back of my mind for a while soo here u are, i'm a huge huge HUGE sucker for hurt to comfort tropes so >,<
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A week. It had been a week since you and Jay had a massive argument causing the two of you to give each other the silent treatment for god knows how long. However, as if the world was out to get you, the next morning after the fight you had been plagued with a sickness that you couldn’t quite pin down, all you knew was it left you bedridden until Friday. 
Due to said sickness, you obviously couldn’t join your group for schedules and barely entered the building for dance practice. You hoped Jay would at least notice your absence, send a message asking where you were or something. But to your dismay, radio silence.
“Who cares about some stupid guy anyways…” Grumbling under your breath you reached for your chopsticks to skewer another rice cake from your measly plate of instant tteokbokki and shovel it down your throat. Maybe excessive spice you couldn’t handle and soft pillowy rice cakes could solve all your problems. 
Ding dong! Weird, you didn’t think the members would be back this early? 
Begrudgingly ripping the covers off and placing your bowl back on your table, you went to the door. Hair still an oily mess from not showering properly and clothes stuck to your body from sweat, you clearly weren’t in pristine condition to be meeting anyone. Please don’t be a delivery man, please don’t be a delivery man.
However, after opening the door, you found yourself standing in front of the one person you’d been longing for the whole week. Park Jongseong. Your gaze softened slightly and a small smile crept onto your lips, but then you remembered that you were still mad at him. Fighting the urge to embrace him and cry out for his name, you plastered on a stoic expression of indifference. 
“What are you doing here.” 
“Chaewon told me you were sick,” he said before entering into your dorm, not bothering to wait for you to let him in.
Making his way over to the kitchen he placed a white takeaway bag onto the counter before emptying its contents onto the table: a warm bowl of your favourite porridge and a cup of tea from your favourite cafe. 
“What’s this?” positioning yourself in front of Jay, you scanned the table to see the numerous small boxes of side dishes sprawled across. 
“Porridge, it’s good for you when you’re sick.” he replied before shooting his head over to the remnants of your tteokbokki “Honey why are you eating tteokbokki, you’re sick you shouldn’t be eating instant food.” he scolded before reaching over throw your lukewarm leftovers in the trash.
“It’s not that bad…” you mumbled whilst picking at the side dishes “And why do you suddenly care, thought you weren’t talking to me” Scoffing you shot him a dirty glare. 
“Correction, you weren’t talking to me; I thought you needed some space, as you usually do after a fight.” well he wasn’t wrong, you did express to him that after arguments you wanted some time to cool down by yourself, “and also, I’m not ‘suddenly’ just caring YN. Who do you think Yunjin got all those drinks, medicines, and snacks from.” 
Oh… so she didn’t buy them herself. Your gaze reached his eyes as you felt your heart soften slightly, “Okay, well you could’ve sent me a text or something. You could’ve come here and given it to me yourself, why today out of all days do you decide to come huh?” meeting your glossy eyes, Jay could tell how hurt you were over his actions. He couldn’t deny that it pained him to see you this upset. 
“Okay look, I’m sorry. I wanted to come over, but Sakura said whatever you caught was contagious and that you isolated yourself to make sure you got nobody else sick. As I mentioned earlier, you told me you liked to have time to cool down after fighting, but it was stupid of me not to even try to text you. Today it all just-” Jay stopped his rambling, catching his breath before sighing out, “I just really missed you YN” 
That was all the confirmation you needed to run into his arms and hug him so tight he didn’t even think about leaving again. Jay was quick to reciprocate, arms wrapping around you to engulf you into his warm embrace, head buried into the crook of your neck whispering sweet nothings. 
Breaking away from the embrace and tilting your head up you were graced with a warm and familiar smile painted across Jay’s face; a smile you so badly missed the entire week. 
“Don’t ever do that again.” you said with a pout 
“Promise I won't honey,” his hands reached to cup your face before adding, “Only if you promise to stop eating that stuff when you’re sick.” 
“Hey, it’s yummy! I can’t help it that I can’t cook soup or anything, tteokbokki has never failed me.” 
“Guess I’ll have to keep bringing you food then.” he replied with a smirk
“Well, I could use a personal delivery man.” giggling you reached up to mirror his actions, cupping his face with your warm hands. 
“Oh really, would a delivery man do this?” and with that he pressed a playful peck onto your lips; soft and gentle, something you missed dearly. 
“Jay!” you exclaimed, “You can’t do that, you’ll get sick!” 
“So. What.” he said between pecks, peppering your face with kisses as you giggled and placed your hands on his chest to try and push him away. Pulling away he looked into your eyes with a warm and gentle gaze, smiling softly before leaning in to give you a proper kiss. Feeling the worry of your sickness transferring to him vanish, you melted into the kiss whilst wrapping your arms around his neck. In response, his hand found its way to the small of your back while the other reached up to cup the back of your neck. It always astonished you how easily he could pull you into his orbit, almost made you forget about the soreness of your body and the fever plaguing you. 
Retreating back he giggled at your pouting face. “I’d love to continue, but I wouldn’t want the food I bought you to get cold” intertwining your fingers with his, he led you over to a chair before sitting you down. “Let’s eat okay?” he muttered before taking his spot right next to yours, hand still intertwined with your fingers. His other hand however reached over to spoon you some porridge, moving the utensil closer to your mouth. 
You happily bent forward to enjoy the bite he crafted for you, an all too familiar sensation bubbling up within you—a warmth you could only describe as, home. Jay felt like home. And you hoped he would for the rest of your lives.
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perm taglist ♡ (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang
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reilemon · 3 days
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Under The Stars ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
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♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader
。°⚠︎°。MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)。°⚠︎°。
♡︎cw:unprotected sex, tent sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, pussy job, cum swallowing
♡︎word count: 3.9k
♡︎synopsis: What happens when you share a tent with your crush? The story starts where the memory Precious Bonfire ends.
♡︎a/n: I wrote this during my ovulation week. Also, I went over this once, so if you see any mistakes, no you don't.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this!
banner by @cafekitsune
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Xavier looks up from the game card “Ah, I figured out what I want my payment to be.” He smiles softly at you and hands you the card, “Tell me when you’re overwhelmed next time.”
A little confused, you absent-mindedly take the card that’s not even yours. “That doesn’t sound like a payment.”
“Well, it is.”
“No, it’s not. Think of something else!” You say with playfulness in your voice. Of course you don’t mind accepting to “pay him off” in this way, but he’s been so helpful and resourceful today, that you’d feel bad for asking for more assistance.
He just shakes his head and stands up from his seat in the camping van, and walks away. End of discussion, I guess.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆
You spent a few minutes sitting alone in the van, decompressing, but also thinking of ways to return the favor. Seriously, what’s a good way to show him your gratitude? You know he’s not doing this because he expects something in return. Xavier is a genuine and sweet soul, someone who is reliable (except in the kitchen) with a soothing presence. He never seems overwhelmed, even when he lights his oven on fire.
You sigh wistfully. You were hoping he was going to say “Let’s go on a date!” or “Can I sleep in your tent?” or maybe “You know, the front of my pants is feeling a little tight, could you lend me a hand –“ you blush, hiding your face in your hands. If only.
You glance at your phone to look at the time. You decide you’ve spent enough time away from everyone, letting your mind wander – how big is it? – okay, you really need to focus and go back to your colleagues.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆
The rest of the evening went uneventful – you hung out with your friends, cleaned up the mess and then took a relaxing shower. Somewhere between cleaning up and the shower, you swiped a pack of chocolate covered strawberries from the mafia game winner. You wanted those strawberries the moment your eyes landed on them in that pile of snacks.  And you’ll buy them later and give them back, so technically you’re borrowing them!
Besides, you want to give them to Xavier as a small thank you. He deserves more than this, but it will do for now.
Anyway, after the refreshing shower, you’re looking around the campsite. Most of your colleagues are cozying up in their tents, only a few still talking and drinking outside. Where’s Xavier?
You saw him earlier hanging out with others, but now… your eyes land on his figure, lounging by a tree away from all the tents.
You approach him. “There’s no way I’m letting you sleep outside.”
Xavier, not opening his eyes, says “I have no problem sleeping outside.”
“Well, as the captain of this group, I very much do.” You extend your arm towards him “C’mon, you can sleep in my tent.”
He opens his eyes as he hears the offer. “Are you – “
You grab his hand, “Yes, the tent is big enough for the two of us.” You suddenly remember that you only brought one blanket, but this summer night is nice and breezy so it shouldn’t be an issue.
Hesitant at first, Xavier nods and gets up while holding your hand. He moves his backpack to your tent and goes to take a shower, giving you time to change into pajama shorts and tank top; not really appropriate in this situation, but who cares!
As you spread out the blanket over the sleeping mat and two pillows, (yes, two, the other one was meant for your knees), you sit there waiting for him and then you realize – wow, it’s kinda fucking cold in here!
You were so focused on being a good captain and taking care of everyone that it completely slipped your mind that you should pack warmer pajamas and maybe a sleeping bag; it doesn’t matter that it’s summer, nights are always colder in the woods.
As you wonder if the blanket will be warm enough, from the corner of your eye you notice Xavier approaching the tent. He’s wearing a loose white t-shirt and gray cotton shorts. You move a little to make room for him, and when he crouches to step inside, your eyes are glued to his muscular legs. The staring makes you miss the way Xavier’s eyes take in your figure, the smooth skin of your thighs and your pebbled nipples poking underneath your top.
You quickly shift your gaze to his face; he’s looking around the tent. Suddenly you’re nervous. It hits you that you’ll be sleeping next to Xavier in this small ass tent. You feel an awkward tension, so you say “I hope this is enough room for you! I don’t have one more blanket but I do have an extra pillow!”
Xavier chuckles, and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s good enough for me. I just hope you’re comfortable with this.”
“Of course I am!” You say very convincingly. As you nervously shift, your thigh grazes the box of strawberries. Right, I almost forgot! You take them and offer the box to him. “Here, a small token of my gratitude.”
He eyes the fruit, not taking them immediately. “Where did you get those?”
“The winner gave them to me.”
“Really?”
“I stole them.” You say with a shy smile. Some things are just impossible to hide from him.
He chuckles, “I’ll take them, but only if you have some as well.”
You agree and he opens the box, placing it between you two.
You’re the first one to try them, and you’re so pleased that your little crime paid off. And by Xavier’s little mm!  you know that he enjoys the sweetness of chocolate and the strawberries as well. You sit there for a while, eating and chatting about whatever; mostly about the books he’s been reading and the new game both of you started playing.
You don’t feel that tired anymore. It’s probably the shower that washed away all the fatigue of the day. And the adrenaline from talking, not only talking but sharing a tent and then later sleeping next to your crush. You’re actually so excited you could run laps around the campsite, but at the same time so flustered you don’t know what to do with yourself.
After you take another bite of the fruit, you notice that Xavier’s eyes are lingering on your lips? No, your cheek?
His hand slowly goes towards your face, and you stand still, unsure of what he wants. His ring finger gently wipes the corner of your mouth.
He smiles, “You had some chocolate there.”
When he’s about to lick his finger, you joke “Hey! You’re taking my chocolate!”
He stops for a second, looks at the finger, then at you. “You’re right. Do you want it back?” He asks with that teasing glint in his eyes as he holds the digit in front of your lips.
You’re stunned for a moment, trying to read the situation. Does he really want you to lick it off?
Okay, you can play along; with your eyes on his, you start to lick the chocolate. Xavier’s eyes widen for a split second, his lips slightly part as he watches you lick and suck his finger clean. It made his shorts tighter, and he hopes that you don’t notice the outline of his erection on his gray shorts.
And you’re so frustrated at yourself because of how wet this little interaction made you.
When you’re done, with a light blush on his cheeks, he pulls back his hand and clears his throat. “You’re really good at this.”
You only sheepishly smile and continue the conversation like nothing happened.  
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆
“You didn’t bring a sleeping bag?” Xavier asks as you as you both get ready to sleep. It’s gotten late, it’s dead silent as everyone around you is sleeping or trying to fall asleep. You’re surprised that Xavier managed to stay awake this long.
You admit that you forgot the fact that it’s colder at night here than back in the city. “But the blanket should be big enough for both of us.” You offer to go ask someone for one more blanket, but he refuses and says that he’s worried about you being cold.
His eyes scan over your barely covered body “I can borrow you my hoodie. But it smells like campfire.”
“I’m gonna to be fine. Let’s just go to sleep.” You reassure him (and yourself). With that, both of you lie down, your backs turned, and cover yourself with a blanket that is not enough for two people.
Xavier lets you take most of it, but tries to not make it obvious, so he holds onto it, only his back covered.
Ten, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes pass, you don’t know. You just can’t fall asleep. Not only because your ass is freezing, but because he is lying right next to you. And judging by his deep breathing, he’s asleep. Of course he is. You turn on your back and stare at the stars peeking through the mesh screen of the tent. You don’t want to move around too much or step outside because you don’t want to wake him. He’s had an exhausting day too.
You turn on your side, facing his back. You can’t see much in the dark tent, the only light source being the moon and the stars, and faint fairy lights outside. But it’s visible enough to admire his light fluffy hair and how wide his back is. You crave to trace your fingers over his shirt, through his hair… you completely took over the blanket!
You cover his figure, but then you’re a little exposed. With a sigh, you move closer to him as quietly as possible. Now, time to turn around in the same manner. But, Xavier is already switching to his other side, turning to you, and you’re so close, almost nose to nose and he opens his eyes.
You’re holding in your breath, freezing in place. “Sorry.” You whisper. “I just wanted to cover you.”
His sleepy eyes stare at yours, then at your lips. It takes him a second to register your words. “You’re still awake?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you cold?”
You take second before answering “Maybe.”
“Turn around.”
You do as you’re told expecting him to roll you into the blanket like a burrito and then you’d feel really bad. Those thoughts evaporate when you feel his warm arm slip around your waist, pulling your back against his strong, yet soft, chest, while his lower body keeps a respectful distance.
His breath tickles the skin of your neck, making you shiver. “Is this okay?”
You only muster a squeaky ‘mhm’, and then he falls silent again, with his face nuzzled against your neck. You close your eyes, and try to count sheep.
One sheep…two sheep… your arm gets uncomfortable so you place it over his that’s resting on your waist, the contact making his hand search your hand, entangling his fingers with yours, and then pulling you in a tighter embrace.
Exhaling a shuttering breath, you continue… three sheep… you’ve been keeping your legs pin straight this whole time and they’re starting to feel stiff and sore. But if you bend them, they’ll be exposed to cold air, but if you curl up you’ll be pressing your butt against Xavier’s crotch, or at least lower belly.
Four sheep…
The gentle whisper of your name against your ear makes you yelp. You thought he fell asleep.
Xavier repeats your name, and you can hear the smirk on his lips “Position yourself however you please. I want you to be comfortable.”
You exhale a breath you’ve been holding. “Okay.”
You move into the fetus position, making yourself as comfortable as possible, warm in his embrace, your bottom keeping an awkward distance from his lower half.  You bite your bottom lip and try to regulate your breathing. He can probably feel how fast your heart is beating. You think how it’s unfair that he can feel how flustered you are.
You feel his slow heartbeat, but you can’t see his feverish red cheeks.
“Is it better now?” He asks.
“Yeah, it’s just that...” It’s just that your legs and buttocks are still cold.
When you don’t finish your sentence, he nudges your neck with his nose. “Your legs are cold.”
The hand on your waist moves and his fingers lightly glide over your upper thigh. When you don’t protest, he starts caressing, warming up your skin. The contact makes you hot between your legs, making you unconsciously rub your thighs and arch your back, your butt backing up against his front. 
You immediately flinch, jolting your middle forward outside the covers. “Sorry.” You mumble, your cheeks burning in embarrassment, your body staying in that awkward position.
Xavier can’t help but laugh at the position you’re in. He rubs your shoulder in an attempt to console you. “It’s okay. I don’t mind”
It takes you a few seconds to muster up the courage to go back under the cover, closing the distance between your bodies, letting him spoon you.
You feel like you could melt in his arms; he’s so warm, smells like fresh linen and herbal hair shampoo. Even though you’re still nervous, your body is able to relax and press further against him, unintentionally grinding your soft bottom against his quickly hardening length.
Your pussy clenches as you feel his clothed hard dick against you. He doesn’t say anything, but shift a little further from you.
You don’t know if it’s the weariness, the horniness, or the boldness (if you can call it that), that makes you whisper. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” And you close the distance again, this time slowly sliding your ass against him to prove your point.
A shuddering breath leaves his lips, as he starts moving at your pace. He shifts to rest on his elbow and his hand moves up to cup your cheek, and you turn to face him, your hips halting the movement.
He gazes into your eyes and nudges the tip of your nose with his. He softly breathes your name and his soft warm lips leave a feather light kiss on yours. He waits for your reaction with those puppy eyes that always make you weak.
With the hand that was under you, you hold the side of his face and pull him into a soft kiss. Your lips softly graze and nip as Xavier adjusts his body, elbows resting on either side of your head, his chest resting against yours, but his pelvis is hovering against yours.
You decide to be the one to take the next step; fingers of one hand run through his hair as you deepen the kiss, your tongue glosses his bottom lip and slipping inside, tasting his. The other hand pushes down his lower back, and he takes the hint.
You gasp into the kiss as his dick grinds right between your clothed folds, grazing your clit just right. Your cheeks and core are burning as Xavier starts rutting waster and harder, you can feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest. Both of you are panting between kisses, suppressing moans and whines.
He breathes against your lips “We should stop.” When he notices a flash of disappointment on your face, he adds, “It’s so easy to hear everything here.”
You nod. “Yeah, you’re right.” You gulp and take in deep breaths. Your tent is the furthest from the rest, but still close enough to hear if someone is getting it on.
He rolls over to his side, still facing you. His eyes take in your features as his fingertips graze over them. He pulls you in by the back of your head into a slow kiss. Your lips taste each other, tongues licking, his teeth playfully nibbling your bottom lip.
The hand on the back of your hand travels over your jaw to hold your chin, and a deep sigh leaves his lips. He whispers, “It’s so hard to hold back.” and the continues tasting your plump lips.
Those words make your panties wetter than they were. You throw your leg over his hips and soon you’re straddling him, and his arms envelop you, pressing your body flush against his, his hips bucking up to meet yours once again.
But you crave more contact and so does Xavier. At the same time, Xavier pulls down his shorts and you take off yours. A whimper escapes your lips as you sit back down on his rock hard dick, your sexes only separated by thin fabric.
He pulls you into a deep, hungry kiss, his hands grabbing your ass, moving your hips in the same rhythm with his. The friction feels so good, too good. Your pussy is creaming so much, making a mess of your panties and his boxer briefs. Then he shifts his hips a little and his cockhead starts hitting and rubbing your clit over and over, and you’re mewling and panting into the sloppy kiss.
He smirks against your lips. “Honey, I need you to stay quiet. I don’t want anyone else to hear you like this.”
The heat pools in the bottom of belly. “Xavier, I’m close.”
“Yeah? Is my little bunny feeling good?” He pants, and by the twitching of his cock, you think he’s close too.
You hold back a disappointed whine when he puts a distance between your hips, but then you feel him push down his boxers freeing his throbbing dick. He pulls your panties to the side and brings your hips back down, your dripping pussy lips sliding against his thick length, and he immediately locks your lips with his, swallowing your moan.
He has you in a tight embrace, one hand on the plump flesh of your ass and the other on the back of your neck. His lips leave a wet trail from your lips over your jaw to the shell of your ear, and you listen to his restrained pants and grunts.
His hot breath fans over your ear “Let’s come together.” He pulls up both of your shirts a bit, and you feel his hard ab muscles tensing against your skin.
You can only nod as the tip starts hitting your clit again, and in a few seconds you’re coming undone on top of him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, muffling your moans.
Xavier follows shortly after, his cum spilling over both of your bellies.
You take a moment to calm down and you notice that he’s still as hard. You come up to meet his gaze.
His eyes are veiled with so much lust and craving. “I – “
“Please, fuck me.” You need more.
With those three magic words, he’s on top of you again, his shirt and the blanket disregarded somewhere in the corner. He pushes your tank top over your breasts, his hot lips latching onto your nipple while his fingers play with the other one, while his cock is sliding with ease between your slippery folds.
You know that he wants to prep you more, but you feel like you’ve been edged for too long, your hole clenching around nothing.
Xavier’s breath hitches against your nipple when you reach down and wrap your hand around his member, feeling how long and thick he is (he’s longer than your thought).
He comes up and holds your gaze as you tease the tip against your soaking entrance “I need you now.”
His hand switches with yours, slowly easing into you, his gaze never leaving yours. He swallows thickly, and cursing under his breath as he feels your walls clench around him.
And you’re a mess under him, biting your lip to contain your moans and whines, but your pussy is already fluttering around his length, second orgasm building up.
When he’s finally buried to the hilt, he rests his body on top of yours, neither of you caring about the slippery cum between you, if anything it spurs you on even more.
He slowly starts rolling his hips, his lips leaving open mouth kisses over your collar bone and your neck. You fingers find purchase in his hair and nails lightly scrape the skin over his taut back muscles. In your daze you take a moment to admire his strong back and then you move your hand from his back to grab his biceps. Fuck, you wish there was more light here.
Xavier’s lips lock with yours in a sloppy kiss, his tip grazing your sweet spot with every thrust while his fingertips rub your sensitive bundle of nerves. His voice is raspy from all the strangled groans, “You’re squeezing me so hard, princess. Are you gonna come for me?”
You only manage a small moan in response, and you don’t even care if you’re loud. And the wet smacking of his pelvis against your creamy cunt is already giving you away.
You barely give any warning as suddenly another orgasm crashes over you, his free hand covering your mouth. He coos in your ear that’s right and you’re so pretty and sweet names that you barely register as you whimper against his hand and your pussy spasms around his cock.
As you come down from your high, he picks up the pace and soon you notice him twitching inside you, his hips stuttering and his pants becoming shallower.
He murmurs “Where do you want me?”
You fight back the urge to say ‘inside’, you want him to fill you up so bad, but now is not the place to make that kind of mess.
Still, you don’t want spill it outside. “Use my mouth.”
His face burns and his dick painfully throbs at those words. You rest on your elbows as he pulls out and straddles your waist, his hand resting on your head.
You let him guide the tip past your lips, and you swirl your tongue around it tasting your mixed juices. He swallows a moan as you take him in deeper; swollen lips enveloping his cock, tongue swirling, tasting him, and grazing his pulsing veins, and he can’t help the pang of jealousy that hits him with how good you’re at this.
Pushing those thoughts back, he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re taking me so good.”
He starts thrusting, unable to hold back much longer. He whispers between pants “Tap my arm if I go too hard.”
You hum against his length, focused on relaxing your throat as his cockhead starts hitting more and more with each thrust and stutter of his hips.
You feel him throb hard in your mouth, and his hand travels under your chin. You hear him demand with a strangled groan “Look at me.”
Your eyes lock with his, the sight of you sucking him in with a fucked-out face making him tip over the edge, filling your mouth with his hot cum.
He takes shaky breaths as he twitches in your mouth as you suck him and swallow each drop, not letting anything go to waste.
After he pulls out, he sits next to you and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips.
He holds your face in his hands, his nose nudging yours. “Are you okay?”
You nod and kiss him again. And then you feel cold air hit the wet spots on your body. You chuckle “We need to get cleaned up, though.”
With that, you wipe yourselves with wipes and dress up to make an awkward walk towards the bathroom. You just hope that no one heard what you were doing in the tent. Or the shower.
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buckleysbitch · 1 day
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Okay kind of out there ask, dom reader teasing and topping Abby while Ellie is a little perv and watches from behind them. maybe it's not that out there idk, i just like bottom Abby its so fun
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summary - what was supposed to be a chill night in with your roommates takes a hard turn.
warnings - 18+. FILTH. this is FILTH. lowkey dubcon if you squint REALLY hard, intro is cheesy asf so i won’t blame you if you skip it
authors note - i did not proof read this bc i needed to rub one out after writing this jesus chriST anyways requests are open again finally . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“okay, okay,” abby chuckles as she gets the perfect idea. “so we think we know everything about each other right?”
you and ellie turn to each other, both curled up on opposite ends of the couch, and nod in agreement, as ellie passes you her neatly rolled joint, both of your eyes following your cocky roommates detailed arms.
“so,” ellie coughs, “where’s this going then abby?”
“jesus give me a second, williams!” abby shouts, that rare, adorable smile that makes you absolutely melt appearing. “let’s play hot seat.”
ellie rolls her eyes unceremoniously, and peels herself off the couch. “okay, okay!” you notice her ears burning pink underneath her auburn hair, pondering to yourself what an innocent game such as this would make her such a mess.
“okay okay, who wants to go first?” abby asks, as ellie turns away slightly, avoiding eye contact, biting back a smile. her chiseled features glowing in the moonlight through the window. “well, i suggested the game, so how bout you, sugar?” abby gestures to you. your hands start to get clammy, ellie’s odd energy throwing you for a loop.
“cool, yeah.” you agree, making your way over to abby’s chair in the corner of the room.
“okay, els, you know how this works right?” abby questions, as ellie quickly interjects.
“d’you think i’m five? gimme a break dude!” she laughs, playfully punching abby’s shoulder.
“okay, okay….” abby chuckles again as she sets a one minute timer on her phone. “and time starts….now.”
“okay coming in hot, filthiest fantasy.” ellie’s eyes widen with desire as she asks you her question.
“no doubt, wanna have someone watch as i put a girl in her place. sounds so fuckin fun.” you explain nonchalantly as the two girls watch you take the final drag of the minuscule joint between your plush lips.
abby and ellie give each other a quick look before abby blurts out “do you wanna make that come true now?”
you cough, waving the smoke out of your face, laughing. “the fuck, anderson? like….” the girls eyes widen, eyeing you in your workout shorts and tank top. “oh, you’re serious.”
“what is it angels, you wanna see this?” you creep up from the chair, confidence building with every motion. pulling off your tank top and throwing it in ellie’s face, your nipples perk up at the sensation of the cool air.
“fuck….” abby whispers breathlessly, using every fiber of strength to not palm her clit at this very second.
“c’mere abs…lemme take care of you.” you murmur sultrily, running your hand down her braid as you straddle her thigh. “wanna watch, els?” you motion to the stunned girl, her nimble fingers already down her boxers. “ah, ah, ah…..” you whisper to her, pulling her fingers out and sucking on the wetness from her digits. “you’re gonna wanna save that. just getting started.” her breath hitches, wide eyes taking in the warmth of your mouth around her fingers.
as you’re finishing up, you feel abby brushing up against your ass, and going to grope it. “don’t even think about it anderson. you do what i say, yeah?” you ask, pinning her muscular arms up above her head. the blondes expression goes soft, submitting to your energy. “stay.”
“that’s a good girl.” you whisper, before locking your lips in hers. she tastes just how you always imagined; coffee and cherries. she can’t help but buck up her hips into yours, desperate for any friction. “was that….your….plan…all along?” you ask, one hand around her throat while your pouty lips leave tender kisses on her collarbone.
“m-mhm!” she nods, ellie’s faced flushed in awe, scanning the two of you.
“yeah? i could tell from the second you suggested that game….sluts. both of you.” you chuckle, before nearly tearing her muscle tank off her toned body and connecting your gooey mouth to her petite nipples. the moan that comes out of her at this stage is guttural; you smile to yourself knowing you can make these girls fold with a simple kiss. “tell me what you want angel….” you coo, circling her ribs with your nails. without warning, she gets too impatient and starts rubbing her clothed cunt against your thigh. “well….if you can’t behave, maybe i’ll just play with ellie for a bit.” abby whines as you peel yourself off her, as ellie’s eyes darken.
“let’s see how wet you are…”
ellie quickly rips her boxers off, allowing you to spread her pale thighs. her cunt is quite literally dripping. thank fuck you have a leather couch.
“may i?” you ponder from between her thighs. she bobbles her head yes uncontrollably, only stopping to throw her head back in pleasure when you lick a thick stripe up her puffy pussy. “god, y’taste so fuckin good….” you mumble, looking back to abby for a moment. “learned your lesson yet?” your eyes taunting her, before diving face first into ellie’s pussy, no hesitation. the poor girl can barely get a moan out before-
“i know you bought that strap….saw the box.” she sighs out, relieved.
“sorry els…” you giggle, a thin web of spit connecting your drenched lips to her pussy. “i’ll get you later. gotta take care of that slut first. be good and watch, and i’ll reward you again.” she gulps in response, giving you a light kiss.
you motion for the girls to wait, and scurry off to your room to get yourself ready. soon you’re back, bottle of lube in hand, rubbing the cool gel on your 7 inch length. abby’s eyes widen, likely not realizing how big your dick really was.
“this okay?” you ask, hovering over her neatly trimmed pussy. she nods, whimpering. “words, angel….”
“y-yes!” she gasps out, desperately rutting her hips against the tip of your dick. anything, anything for a taste of that delicious friction.
“good girl….” kissing her forehead, you sink into her with ease, her eyes rolling back sinfully as you bottom out in one stroke. “look so pretty like this…s’fuckin obedient….”
her veins melt back into her freckled shoulders as her senses succumb to all of you. her moans are fucking pornographic, you almost wish you got it on video….
in which ellie already has her phone shakily pointing at the two of you, her hand back between her now bare thighs, rubbing lazy circles over her clit. all that’s left of her is her flannel, her breasts poking out from in between the the buttons. because let’s be real, she never wears a damn bra so she can whip them out easily.
“jesus abs….s’fuckin tight.” you moan out, lightly scratching at her biceps. “takin me so pretty….never thought i’d get to have you like this.” the blonde sobs out your name in reply, desperately flailing to close her legs to relieve the pressure in her stomach as you pry her open. “you better stop, or i’ll take you from behind instead.”
“promise?”
and that’s how you ended up with abby andersons back arched for you, ass up, with your cock so deep in her cunt ellie can see the silouhette of you in her abdomen.
“yeah? you wanted this, huh?” you pant, the only sounds that echo through the room are simultaneous moans from the two girls and the squelching of their juices. abby’s noise more prominent as she shrieks in pleasure while you yank her braid so far back she has to stare at ellies glazed over cunt just out of reach while you ruthlessly thrust into her.
“answer or you won’t fuckin cum.” you bellow, tightening your grip on her locks.
“yes! y-yes! need to cum…hah…hah….hah….s’bad!”
“atta girl.” you groan, spreading her pussy to watch her cream a perfect white ring all over your strap, your own high peaking, your thighs shaking in pleasure.
the three of you collapse onto the couch, all going silent for a moment to catch your breath….before bursting out into uncontrollable giggles.
“gotta do that more often, huh?” abby smirks, with the satisfaction of knowing her stupid little plan worked.
“mhm….” you agree, brushing your hands up against the two girls. “gonna put els in her place next time though…”
you shoot a glance at the lanky girl, and her eyes go hazy.
part 2….?
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xi-chan · 3 days
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can you pretty please write ratio sunday and maybe gallagher with a reader who just brings animals home like one day they come home with just a dirty feral ass cat out of nowhere
of course I can love <33 I love this idea
White Jasmine
sypnosis: one day, you bring home a stray- much to his surprise you found it on the street pairings: Ratio, Sunday and Gallagher x reader (Separate) wordcount: 338 (Ratio), 364 (Sunday), 292 (Gallagher) A/N: fluff and crack? I have NOT grasped enough of Gallaghers personality to write enough for him im so sorryyy
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RATIO
"No." he said, nonchalantly as you pout with the kitten in your arms. "Why not? Look how cute he looks!" you said and your boyfriend grimaced as he saw the feral look on the 'kitten' that you held. "It looks like it wants to rip my face off. And here I thought you could use your brain for once." he added and you dramatically gasped, holding the kitten close to you. "How could you say that?! He's not an 'it'! Besides, all he needs is a bath, some food and some grooming. Plus, if he were to rip your face off, then it's because you made him uncomfortable." Ratio groaned in annoyance before you walked right past him, getting ready to help your kitten.
He followed quickly behind in fear for his dozens of books and whatever he has for studies. "What do you even want to name him?
"Emperor Maximillian Pusspuss."
"You cannot be serious."
Nevertheless to say, the two of you agreed on the name Cosine- mostly because that when Ratio tried to explain The Pythagorean theorem to 'an idiot' student (he called him that), the cat responded every time he said 'Cosine'.
After one long day of shopping, you opened the door to your shared house and noticed the lack of sounds from inside. Also, normally, Cosine would wait before the door once you entered, but not today. As you walked through the entire house, you stopped when you entered the bedroom, bringing out your phone to snap some pictures of the sight before you. There, your smart boyfriend laid on your bed with Cosine sleeping on his chest as he read a book. He looked up as he heard the shutter from your phone, "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, putting the book away. You smiled to yourself before walking up to the bed and petting Cosine, causing him to wake up and meow softly at you. "Well?" you took a glance at Veritas before you showed him the picture.
"Preserving memories."
SUNDAY
"Angel, this is the seventh time." he sighed, too tired to argument with you actually as you brought in yet another bird you found in Penacony. "But this one is injured." you said, showing your boyfriend the injured wing of the bird. He got up from his seat and you place the bird carefully on his hands when he stood before you. "Seems like a small fracture," he gently held the injured wing and inspected it before letting it rest beside the bird. "poor little thing." he quietly added before looking up to you. "I don't think we can care for another one, Angel." he said, but you shook your head, practically begging him. "pleaseeeee, the room is big enough for another, it can stay." he chuckled before the two of you began to walk to a distant room at Dewlight Pavilion.
Over the past 2 months, you have brought in six birds before this one, almost begging Sunday every time to help you heal them- after the fifth time you realized he only made you beg because he liked it. Together, with Robin's help, you have taken care of all the birds you have found. Even after they were healed, they chose to stay at Dewlight Pavilion, much like the origami birds that hid everywhere. Every morning, they would greet every with a delighted chirp and sometimes land on your or Robin's shoulder, but never Sunday's for some reason.
"Let me get some bandages and a intramedullary pin." you said, rushing to one of the shelves with the medicinal items. After making sure the bird was asleep for the procedure, you carefully drilled the pin into its bone before bandaging it up. Sunday gave you a small kiss as you placed the still sleeping bird on one of the pillows. "What was that for?" you asked, smiling at him. "I am not allowed to kiss you?" he chuckled before looking at the bird again. "This won't be the last, right?" You nodded and turned to him again. "Does it bother you already?"
"It does not. As long as there aren't too many staying here and you still remember that I'm present, of course."
GALLAGHER
"Here you g- what do you have there?" Gallagher just finished giving you your drink before he saw the stray hound that sat beside you. "Oh- this is Pee-wee." Gallagher remained silent before Siobhan laughed at the name behind him. "Pee-wee? That's his name?" he asked before silently mourning over the given name of that dog. You chuckled to yourself as you sat on one of the bar stools with your drink in hand and the hound also jumped onto one of the stools. "I was kidding, handsome. His name is Dexter. Fits more, don't you think?" you took a sip as he exhaled in relieve. "Oh thank god." Dexter swagged his tail as Gallagher pet him before turning to you. "Where did you get him?" he took notice of the amount of dirt in his fur and some injuries on his ears. "Near Dream's Edge. He was starving when I found him. Can we pretty please keep him?" Dexter barked at your idea and Gallagher found himself agreeing.
However, to what he was not agreeing was to you bring even more stray dogs to the bar, to the point where even the local Penacony monsters were unable to enter and the bar quickly lost customers.
"Ahem, don't you think you kind of... overdid it?" Siobhan asked you and Gallagher nodded, "They need to leave. Especially those who aren't even injured." you shook your head as you sat on the ground with almost five dogs trying to lie on your lap. "I'm unable to do so." Gallagher groaned as he gave up, sitting beside you and letting some dogs also lie on his lap.
"At least get them out of the bar. Argue with the Hotel Staff to let them wander around."
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elrxiel · 1 day
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"Bonus chapter ended Elriel!"
But here's the thing - it didn't have to.
If SJM had a change of heart during writing ACOSF or even before and decided that Gwyn and Az will be the final couple, she could have easily simply ignored writing anything about Azriel's feelings towards Elain. She could have not written about stolen glances - she could have written a scene where they have a conversation without any subtext, just a friendly encounter so the readers would get a clear sign - they are just friends, they are not interested in each other in any way. She could have switched the narrative - making Az behave towards any other character the way he behaves with Elain and making Elain not care, not look at him, not practically dying for him to kiss her.
But she did not.
Instead she wrote paragraphs saying Azriel cannot stand the smell of the mating bond between Elain and Lucien (which is alarming on its own, given the fact that he should not be able to smell it in the first place), that this man spent the last year almost sleepless because he keeps thinking about that girl and the gift she picked for him. She wrote Azriel questioning the Cauldron itself and Elain willing to risk it all even tho her mate was sleeping upstairs. SJM said directly with all of these "look, those two WANT each other, those scenes in previous books DID indicate that there is a mutual wanting between them".
Place yourself as an author for a second - would you really spend three books placing hints and scenes foreshadowing a couple only to "end" them in the bonus chapter, which most of the readers won't even know exist? Would you, knowing that you plan for other couples to be an endgame, wrote about things that literally point that those two characters are so into each other they don't give a single fuck about bonds and religion? Would you write another male guessing something only a mate should be able to guess, the same male being the only one noticing the woman is missing and going on a suicidal mission to get her back? Would you write "you came for me"? Would you write a full scene of this woman emerging from the shadows (the literal power of said male), using the blade he let touching only her? Would you write her buying gifts for him but not for any other man?
And finally, if you plan to make those two end up with different characters anyway, would you really write them like that? Az being the person pining for someone for 500 years and being the one knowing for ignoring orders, only to slowly develop feelings towards someone else who wants him back, would suddenly forget about it and move to a new girl in a heartbeat just because somebody said so? Elain being the person who stated blankly "I don't want him" indicating to her mate, being someone who shall wed for love, suddenly deciding "yes, you know what, I don't want this man who showed me nothing but kindness and who was the only one who actually saw and listened, who saved my life and then gave me a weapon to defend myself, I'm gonna be with my mate now, even tho I'm shrinking with discomfort whenever I'm near him". Even if it fits your fantasies, it does not fit the way characters were written. And at the end of the day, it's not the fantasies that matter. It's what has been written and given us to read and see ourselves.
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choccy-milky · 11 hours
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Clora having an adorable mother and the world's most terrifying father makes so much sense. She's inquisitive, strong, brave and scary in her own right like her dad and yet she's small, adorable, sweet and a little naive like her mom, whom she looks just like. It makes sense.
Which means that Sebastian is in for it big time when they're older and it's time to ask for her hand. It's the 1800's, the late 1800's so technically he doesn't have to, Clora says, but Sebastian has met Clive and he knows that if he marries Clora and doesn't ask before hand for her fathers blessing that he might go mysteriously missing or be hit by a curse that causes erectile dysfunction. Which is so much worse.
Doesn't stop him from having a few nervous breakdowns, hyperventilating just a little bit, crying to Ominis that he thinks it's coming, the tea cup with the grimm truly was an omen and his time has come to die.
But, of course, when he asks Clive all he is met with is a long silent stare.
"My daughter has already informed me of your future nuptials. I don't understand why you're here."
Clive knows he doesn't need anyone asking for permission to marry his darling daughter, she's just like him she can definitely take care of herself. Also, I bet he's nicer than he lets on, his wife is the one to actually watch out for.
Sebastian: Your parents live on being contrary.
Clora: ???
He understands this, knows this and gets that his wife is exactly like her parents and that maybe he has bit off more than he could chew.
Ominis: You willingly married into this family. You've no one to blame but yourself.
Sebastian: I know. *puts down newspaper where his wife is on the front cover for taking out a ring of deadly dark wizards singlehandedly, proving just how dangerous Clora can be* I love her so much.
OMG???😭🥹💖💖I LOVED READING THIS!!! THANK YOU FOR WRITING AND SENDING ALL OF THAT AND PUTTING SO MUCH THOUGHT INTO THE CHARACTERS....😭you are so right, clora really is a combo of her parents just in different ways (and its also cracking me up, now that seb has met her dad, that he'll start to recognize clora's "clive mode" when she gets stubborn and serious and puts her foot down HAHA like omg...this is the same sort of feeling i get when her father stares me down...) AN ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION CURSE LMAOOO but youre also so right in that for as overprotective and 1890s as clive is and despite the way he tests seb, he also values clora + her judgement + her happiness, and as long as clora doesnt pick anyone who he actually deems to be a bad person, clive wouldnt feel the need to give his approval (even if seb THINKS he should get it/needs to get it) CLIVE IS A FEMINIST!!! and indeed also much nicer than he lets on🫠 (the only thing is that seb would have been WITH clora taking down that deadly ring of dark wizards. his overprotective ass may know shes capable but that doesnt change the fact that he protects her/treats her as if she isnt BAHHA he cant help it💕)
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celenawrites · 2 days
Text
— a soft life: unofficial prologue
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Summary -
Retired and domesticated, Johnny and Simon look forward to the next step in their life as a couple - parenthood. However, initiating this process turns out to be a lot trickier than usual.
And then enters you, a tired grad student who is desperate and willing to be their surrogate for some much needed cash. Needless to say, they find themselves orbiting you - like planets to the burning sun.
Warnings - A/B/O dynamics, Metaphorical ramblings of 'killing' parts of one's personality, reader is implied to be an immigrant and POC so expect topics of misogyny, sexism and threats of forceful marriage/parenthood to pop up in later chapters, Unbeta'd and unedited contents so mistakes are inevitable, etc.
Word count - 1, 128.
series masterlist || read on ao3
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Your eyes burn. 
The black cursor blinks against the empty white expanse of your Word document, taunting you and your incapability to muster up anything to write for your thesis. You shut down your laptop after staring at the blank document file for what seems like hours, barely mustering up the concentration needed to finally name the topic of your research thesis. 
You lean back against the black ergonomic chair and it creaks under your weight, and you can feel the way your back cracks as you stretch your arms over your head. You take off your glasses, and then let your palms rub at your aching eyes as you contemplate what more you could do to distract yourself from your imminent doom. 
Between your laptop and piles of printed papers, textbooks and notes lies an opened manila envelope that has delivered devastating news to you at a crucial point of your life. 
The education system is unfair in many ways, and going into academia and research is definitely not going to be a walk in the park for you. But your passion for the subject had you undeterred - leaping at the first chance of pursuing your postgraduate degree from one of the most prestigious universities in all of the United Kingdom. And yet, the printed letter you had received last week is threatening your dream and you do not know if there is any way for you to salvage it. 
You have rapidly applied for financial aid, scholarships, internships and even odd jobs - but most of the potential employers have either ghosted you or put your name on a never-ending waitlist. You cannot wait till next year to know if they would hire you for minimum wage, damn it. 
By the time they reach out to you, you might already be well on your way back home. And you do not want to go back home. 
A few tears of frustration bubble up in your eyes, leaving hot tear tracts on your skin as you try to wipe them away. You need a break. God knows when was the last time you had slept. 
At moments like these, when life was too much and the stress made the idea of death all the more inviting to you, your inner voice - your Omega, someone you have suppressed and killed with your own violent hands, would resurface into your life like a phantom and she would haunt you with incredulous ideas and sweet impossibilities. Need someone, need Alpha, she would whisper to you all sultry, Wanna be taken care of. Too much, too much, too much-
And you would bury her remains again. 
You cannot be soft. You cannot be kind. You cannot let people know you care. 
It would only get you killed. Or worse. 
You get up to leave the room on shaky legs and your knees buckle after staying so still for hours on end. You enter the small kitchen, put the kettle filled with water on the stove and turn it up to high heat as you lean against the island and rub your hands over your languished face. You’re so tired. So fucking tired. 
The kettle simmers over the fire, letting out a small hiss from its spout. You pay it no heed. You think and think and think of all the possible ways you can salvage this mess of a situation - only to end up with nothing. 
The market hasn’t been kind, and you do work as a TA and some freelance work online as an editor to ease your financial worries, but it is not enough. 
You can always take up more shifts at the floral shop, but that can also possibly interfere with your academic schedule - which is the last thing you could possibly want. You can always call back home, but the very idea of it fills you with dread and makes your stomach turn and sicken you even more. You could-
The kettle lets out a loud whistle, steam oozing out of it rapidly and the mobile phone in your jeans rings at the same time, startling you into action. You turn and hurriedly turn the stove off, letting the kettle rest on the island as it lets out all the steam stored in the ceramic vessel. 
You abandon the pot of leafy concoction, opting to go outside into your living space to finally pick up your ringing phone. You wipe your clammy hands on a hand towel lying nearby before you swipe the green button to pick up the call. 
“Hello?” you state your name, “Who is it?”
“Good afternoon, Miss” the feminine voice greets you over the mobile, “This is the Larksky Fertility Clinic”. 
Your heart stills. 
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You read the email the clinic representative had sent you after you got off the call with her. 
Alice was her name. Alice sounded like a kind woman. 
You read through the attachment files in the mail. The pamphlet outlined the vision and works of the fertility clinic, highlighting their doctors and the various fertility testing and treatments they offered to people and couples alike. The other attachment files consisted of the bare minimum information about the couple that are currently seeking you out in order to conceive. 
Mr. Simon Riley and Mr. John Mactavish. 
Both are ex-military - one of them is a personal fitness trainer and the other runs a security company. They’re willing to negotiate the price for your ‘assistance’; which is something you’re grateful for, even though you’d have done it for free once upon a time. 
While you have always been unsure about parenthood being the right path for you (and your personal aspirations and fears wouldn’t necessarily allow you to indulge in such ideas just yet), you have always wished to help people create the families they deserve. And you believe this call to be some sort of sign, corny as it might sound to some. 
Maybe it's divine intervention. Or manifestation. Or some spiritual signal. 
You have always been willing to help others out in any way possible - from taking on extra workload and sharing necessities to blood donations and volunteer work. At one point, you had been looking forward to helping people out with completing their families - eager to see them so ecstatic about becoming parents. The idea of doing this for money solely leaves your mouth dry, as if you have swallowed cotton - and yet, yet. 
It wouldn’t hurt to try, anyway. Sending out a response through your email, you confirm the time and date of the meeting with the clinic. You console yourself  and reason with your heart (or what is left of it anyway) - you need the money, you always wanted to do this, now is a good time anyway. 
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A/N -
I decided to post this almost scrapped prologue in hopes to motivate myself and to keep on writing some more. Hopefully, I will be able to post more in May. Also, forgive the few grammatical errors in this piece, I haven't been too keen on correcting such errors at the moment. I will eventually clean this up later on. I just wanted to put this out there so that I can work on the later parts of this series.
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lovelaetter · 3 days
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haiii
hope ur doing well!
just had a thought i wanted to share
had this idea of princess!tzuyu in a medieval time whose father, the king harshly taxes the land and is generally hated
robin hood esque fem!reader whose a thorn in his side, constsmtly stealing from caravans/taxmen
tzuyu who hates what her father does but cant change his mind about how to rule
one night tzuyu awakens to here a commotion and wanders out in her night gown to see whats going on
finding reader stealing from the family vault and making eye contact, in fear retreating to her chambers but reader is enraptured by txuyu's beauty following her
ends up fucking the girl despite her ptotests saying its wrong, but after all the king has put his people through why shouldnt reader use his daughter as a plaything,
later on tzuyu not being able to stop thinking of how readers hands touched her, fucked her, no longer thinking of males suitors
loved the minjeong and taeyeon ask from earlier, hope ur doing well!
☕️
PLEASE!! i know this is supposed to be more smut but i couldn’t help it i just love some backstory!
i’m thinking about all you said and, hear me out, the guards catch you and the poor princess loses nights of her sleep thinking about you and how you’re not so far from her, locked in a cold cell, waiting for your execution… and her desire to do something about that. like, can you imagine her sneaking through secret passages late at night to meet you, trying to be quiet because she doesn’t want to risk someone seeing her and that getting to her father’s ears, and your surprise when she calls your name softly, the confusion on why she’s there, what does she wants with you.
the thing is that she doesn’t really knows what she wants either, mostly look at you, thinking that would soothe her thoughts but in reality it just makes them worse, seeing your face brings back memories of what you did to her and she feels so bad for liking said memories, her head gets so fucked. after the confusion washes away, being really condescending to her, smirking and making sure to look into her eyes to mock her for going after you after all, “does your father know you’re here, princess?” and then laughing when she looks away. and all that, she doesn’t dare to speak, like, if it weren’t for her pleadings for you to not hurt her the first time you would easily think she’s mute or something because she just stares at you with those big doe eyes :( not that this is a problem, though, you learn how to read her as her visits get more and more frequent.
she turns in such a toy in your hands, stepping closer when you motion for her to do so, leaning into your touch when you hold her face, arms hanging on the side of her body or maybe daring to touch you a bit as your hands roam over her body, but it’s not enough, you’re still locked, bars between you two and you can’t do a thing like that, so manipulating her into opening it for you, caressing her cheek, saying how “it would be so much nicer if i was out there, wouldn’t it?” and she’s not stupid, she’s not, she knows you’re twisting your words and using her to escape but… she wants you :( so yeah, she will steal the keys and open the fucking gate.
her holding your arm harshly, thinking you’re just going to run and gasping when you put her against the wall, slipping her nightgown off her shoulders and leaving her bare for anyone who came by to see. i can see her being so desperate and touch starved that your grip on her waist has her melting, pulling your hair while you kiss and mark her neck, not caring what scandal this could bring for her after. squirms a lot when you’re finally fucking her, it still being a foreign sensation, two fingers— could be three if you were being meaner but it’s not the time— going in and out and making this low slick noise that makes her cheeks burn, her clit aching every time your thumb brushes there. moans so loud when she cums it has you freezing, afraid someone heard it. the poor thing probably wouldn’t want to let you go, holding you close, a hand sliding down to stop you from taking your fingers away, whining “more” that makes you snicker about how spoiled she is, demanding it from you, not even saying please… but you don’t really care, too focused on sucking her tits and make her drip on the floor a bit more.
i honestly like to think about running away after, kissing her cheek, not even her mouth, and leaving her there with only the promise of maybe visiting her one night but it’s up to you…… maybe she can convince her father of not killing you or decides to run away with you too, who knows. also corruption kink goes brrr!
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saursoob · 6 hours
Text
Dream, Ivory - yang jungwon
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🎧 listen to: Dream, Ivory while reading !
genre: fluff, ignoring him due to work you find a way to make it up to him.
wc: 600+
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“who are you texting?” your boyfriend asked as he laid in bed next to you attempting to look over at your phone screen. you glanced over to him and noticed a slight pout resting on his lips, clearly upset that you weren’t paying attention to the movie he had put on for the both of you: ‘harry potter and the half blood prince’ you gave him no response, too busy typing away on your device to reply. (that and aside from the fact that you’re incapable of multitasking.)
as you laid comfortably on your back he decided to throw his left arm and leg onto you, side hugging you. “y/nnnn” he said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and leaving a soft peck, begging for any sort of attention. you hummed in response, he smiled now that he had your attention, “stop texting, pay attention to your boyfriend.” you sighed, still fixated on your phone as you replied, “sorry wonnie, its work. i cant ignore it” his pout deepened making his dimples more pronounced as he paused the movie and snuggled up to you closer, deciding to close his eyes in the meantime as he patiently waits for you to be done.
about thirty minutes pass of your general manager complaining about how it’s your responsibility to make sure the new company interns had work to do and someone to go to if they have questions and simply going on and on about how you’re not doing enough as a whole. this claim was obviously bogus by the way, yes you’ve been training the new interns and giving them somewhat of simple assignments but it wasn’t your fault that one of the college students couldn’t grasp the basic task you thoroughly explained and not to mention didn’t even bother to ask you for assistance.
you had finally had enough and shut off your phone, you honestly didn’t care if your G.M yelled at you tomorrow for this, she had said more than enough. you sighed as you looked over to your boyfriend who looked sound asleep cuddled up on you. “wonnie” you said softly. “are you asleep?” your boyfriend would often rest his eyes and accidentally fall asleep so assuming he was you reached your hand out and began playing with the bangs of his hair. he leaned into your hand instinctively, a slight hum coming from him as his eyes opened softly to your touch. “you done?” he asked, voice still sleepy. “mhm” you responded and he gave a lazy smirk. “good” you smiled and reached for the remote to continue the movie but jungwon stopped you before you could unpause it. you look at him expectingly and he glares at you innocently, “what is it won?”
“don’t you think you should make up for ignoring me?”
“but it was work?”
he pouts.
“never mind.” he grumbles.
you gently position him on his back and straddle him, “what about this?” you say as you lean down to kiss his right cheek gently.
he chuckles, “mm not enough”
you giggle and kiss his forehead next, then his nose, admiring the love struck expression your boyfriend makes after each one.
after basically kissing his whole face you back away to look at him once more. without saying a word he pulls you in for a kiss on the lips, cupping your face to deepen it and releasing shortly after. “you’re so cute”
“now lets just go to sleep, yeah?” still guilty you asked, “you sure? we can finish the movie now. im done on my phone, promise.” he shook his head on the pillow, “its okay, i just want you in my arms”
your boyfriend was so cute when he was like this, cuddled up in your big dark green sheets waiting to be embraced. you couldn’t help but think he looked so small in the big blanket. you smiled in between your response, “okay wonnie”
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A/N: late night wonnie drabble ! this is not proof read so i apologize if its shit ☺️☺️
perm tags: @skittlez-area512 @aaa-sia @nishislcve
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euphorianz · 2 days
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Hi! Can you do a anthony bridgerton being obsessed with a reader who doesnt want anything to do with him and rejects him all the time?
Thank u!
(in read your colin one, he is not really my man but your writing is just marvelous! If you decide to do this im so excited to read it!! If you dont its ok, no pressure!)
❥Anthony Bridgerton as a obsessed partner
pairing_ Anthony x reader
Possible triggers_ yandere/dark content, forced affection, mentions of yelling, toxic relationships, Anthony being a total jerk, unwilling reader
a/n_ hiii, thanks so much for your interest! I hope this fic is good and is exactly what you wanted <3 like I said in my last post feedback is welcome and requests!
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-unlike his brother Colin, he is fully aware of what he’s doing and he doesn’t care. He has an “eye on the prize” mentality and has no intention of straying from his goal (you).In a way this is all a game to him, and he has no plans of losing.
-Anthony is controlling/ intense. He desires nothing more for you to be his, and only his. He is not afraid to fight when it comes to you, and will gladly knock a man out for even looking at you. Intimidation tactics are common. Expect to see Anthony randomly showing up at your home or anywhere else you might be. Wether you like him or not he wants everyone to believe the two of you are together. He’s the first one to come up to you at a ball and he makes sure he’s the only one. He doesn’t care if you say no. On top of being controlling he can also be jealous, so expect to be pressed with questions like, “who were you with?!” “What is his name?!” “Do you honestly think he can provide better than me?”
-he has no problem taking full advantage as his role as “viscount” when it comes to you (and your family). He’ll use his influence to gain your family’s favor and your hand. Although meeting through friendship is possible, your mostly likely to catch his eye at a ball than anything. Like his brother the marriage will be swift. Everyone in the ton will be invited to witness your union wether you like it or not. He knows that you don’t hold the same affection for him, so he hopes the tons presence will keep you in check.
-once the two of you are married he doesn’t tolerate any kind of outburst, especially near his family. He cares deeply about them, and the thought of you speaking ill of him or your relationship fills him with rage. So he’ll make a point to be by your side until he can fully trust you. Family participation is a must, especially when it comes to family games. He wants you by his side and happy, but if you can’t be he’s willing to force it.
-if you manage to tell your in-laws about Anthony’s extreme behavior or beg them to help you get out of the marriage, there’s little chance you’ll get the help that you want. Anthony will be quick to take hold of the situation and reassure them that there’s nothing wrong then punish you accordingly. Like his brother he doesn’t like to see you in pain, but he’s not afraid to inflict it.
-like his brother he wants a lot of kids and he expects you to feel the same. If you don’t he’ll just say, “you don’t actually feel that way my love. You’ll come around eventually.” Again family is important to him, so you will eventually have children wether you like it or not.
-Anthony at times can have a short temper, especially when you push him away. He’ll yell and scream demanding “why you don’t love him”. After his outburst and if your upset he’ll be quick to comfort you and apologize, “I’m sorry.. I never mean to upset you.” He can have his tender moments.
-like the rest of his family divorce is not an option and bringing it up will only lead to more problems for you. Same goes for attempting to leave him. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or you at that point, and his desperation will only lead to fueling his obsession with you.
-he’s your husband and you’re his wife. It doesn’t matter how much you fight him or deny his affection that fact will remain. “Wether you acknowledge it or not, your are only for my eyes to witness. So there’s no use in fighting what’s already been vowed.”
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What's your evidence for Watts and Murdoch being autistic? (I totally agree btw)
Hello, internet stranger. Buckle up cause I've thought too hard about this.
Ok disclaimer I have not really sat down and watched the whole thing for a hot minute. Its past nine, you're just gonna have to trust me this one.
Credentials: Mega autisitc
Murdoch:
Does not understand social conventions. Like this ones pretty obvious. He doesn't understand why people keep dogs. Raises his kid in a completely non traditional way. Frequently doesn't get why people care about something that he sees as not being worth it (sports and popular trends and so forth).
Doesn't like small talk
Cares about justice NOT the law. The thing that really makes me think he's autistic is that he cares about things being just and is prepared to break the rules to do so. The main example being he lets that woman out of prison depsite the fact that he could go down for it. He turns a blind eye to Watts and lets Giles go even though they're both criminals in the eyes of the law. And on the flipside he sends George to prison because I think that's what he percieves as justice (if anyone's seen the bridge this really reminds me of Saga at the end of season 2)
Sees through hierarchy. There are so many epsiodes that play out like "I think Mr X is the killer." "But Mr x is extrememly important and influential!" "I don't care he killed her."
Interest in science and inventing. Look I know we joke about stereotypes but like, its a stereotype for a reason. He builds things with an autistic brain. He uses pattern repition through learning about previous inventions and applying them to his own devices.
Visual learner. This is not autism exclusive but he solves cases in such a unique way that it screams ND to me. Murdoch often literally builds a case. They make a joke about clue/cludo but he literally has to make the model of a house to picture where everyone is. He makes all those model of the ladies that were covered in metal. And let us not forget his famous chalk board.
Buzzkill. I say this as a long-term sufferer of leaves parties at 8:45 syndrome. He does 'boring hobbies' which autistic people often have because we don't feel the need to take up traditional ones.
Remember that scene where he attempts to read out his and Julia's book and just absolutely cannot tell that no one gives a single toss about anything he's saying.
Wears the same thing for nearly 20 years. If it ain't broke don't fix it.
Refused to let his wife cut his hair because he didn't want to change from the lady who used to do it.
breather. Part 2: watts.
Cannot read social cues: Frequently insults other station house four people. Pretty sure he called someone's baby ugly but I might have hallucinated that. "You're face is symetrical." Got chucked out of station house because he didn't get on with any of them
Disregard for societal norms: doesn't feel the need to be polite or tactful with anyone or to really follow police protocol. Acts very 'improper' a lot of the time. Only got one shoe shined that one time because that was all he needed. Puts his feet on the sofa, lies on the desk and leans over tables.
Makes limited eye contact.
The man will fidget with anything: Look this is clearly a character decision from Daniel Maslany but its an autistic character decision if ever I saw one. We're talking pencils, cups, fabric, anything. If it is on the set, he will find a way to play with out. And I don't normally like to assign autistic traits onto behaviour implemented by actors but it's basically stimming at this point. I dare you to keep an eye on this man's hands for any scene and I garuntee you they will not stay still.
Disorganised, but not: He always has tiny bits of paper and whatnot in his pockets but always seems to know where everything is. organised but doesn't have to time to be tidy. Same whenever we see his flat, it's equally disorganised. as an autistic person I find things end up all over the place because I don't have the capacity to keep them in order.
Bad handwriting and can't spell
Physicality: Most autistic people will have some sort of problem with co-ordination. He walks uneavenly. He has an odd posture. I always think about that scene where he steps in sick and moves around like a dear on ice. He's clumsy, can't sit straight and has a strange posture.
can't think when being interrupted
can't focus on two things at once.
George realised he'd been possessed by aliens because he was acting normally.
pretzels: dare i say safe food. If not, they're bland, usually the same everytime and take little mental effort to consume.
Strong sense of justic: see william murdoch.
SPECIAL MENTIONS:
Dr Emily Grace: didn't become a doctor becuase she didn't want to adopt a 'cheerful bedside manor.'
Dr Julia Ogden: Married to Murdoch (like calls to like) and sees through the bullshit of victorian society.
Susannah Murdoch: has those two as parents and I have the full confidence of genetics on this one.
In conclusion:
There's probably so much more I could talk about that I just don't remember because there is a lot more of this show than most others. But anyway. Murdoch is autistic because he has to be for the show to work and becuase he often comedic-foils far too close to the sun. And Watts is autistic because there is no way on God's green earth a man who stands like that is neurotypical.
Thank you, internet stranger, I am here all week.
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johnwickb1tsch · 15 hours
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The Bastard’s Mistress ~ A Don John x Servant!Fem!Reader Fic
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So I caught the don John brain rot this weekend…very contagious, 10/10 recommend. This might be @scarlettspectra ’s fault, from all her beautiful gifs she’s been posting!😆 I didn’t go full Shakespearean here but had some fun with the syntax. I apologize in advance. Reader is properly deferential for the time, but she’s got a little spunk.😬 
Warnings: the line between dubcon and noncon here is VERRRY thin. I don’t even know. So if that bothers you do NOT read this! What else. Period correct misogyny and degradation. Corruption. I’m so bad at itemizing these things. Please take care. If u have squiks i probs wouldn’t read this…
You are a chambermaid in His Excellency don Alejandro’s hacienda. It gives you a certain distance from things, as you come and go, doing your best to keep the country house clean and stay out of sight. But don Alejandro’s bastard, the fire-eyed boy with such a burning contempt for the world, has always seen you. 
When you were young children, don John would play with you all, the offspring of the servants who were too young to work. Not because he enjoyed your company, but because he delighted in ordering you all about. Luckily in those days he ignored you as often as he tormented you. 
Then there was a time, when the two of you hovered on the precipice between childhood and adult responsibilities, that you had almost been friends. Or at least, not enemies. He, the bitter outsider with the privileges of a full blooded son, but none of the standing. You, unmoored in your fatherlessness, the fever having taken your sire when you were just a babe. 
Don John goaded you into shirking your chores one day to go play in the hills. He’d only taunted you a little, as you played your silly games, which mostly consisted of him manipulating you, ordering you to do this and that, always testing just how far he could go before being met with rebellion. It was still better than working your hands raw in the laundry. “We should run away,” he’d said in that devil-may-care way brash young boys have, so sure the world is destined to fold for them. You, however, had begged to go home, for all it won you. Upon returning your mother absolutely tanned your backside, and you never associated with Don John in such a familiar way again.
You saw him around the grounds, of course, as you scurried from one backbreaking chore to the next, and as he went through the motions of learning how to become a gentleman. Amidst his riding lessons he would wink at you from astride his fine black horse, but the cruel turn of his mouth never failed to halt you in returning it, even if your heart quickened in your chest.
That did not mean you didn’t think of him later though, on your lumpy cot of straw, as urges began to awaken in your body that was well on its way to becoming a woman’s. You saw his face at night, so achingly handsome you could hardly contain your longing. It felt like madness, and so you shoved it down in the deepest dungeon of your heart, as far as it could go. 
It was not helpful, or good, the times when young don John passed you in the halls, and you felt that he would like to just eat you up. He would tug at your apron strings with a smirk before striding on to whatever lark he plotted for the day. The unholy feelings just a look from that man called up in you had you reaching for your rosary–and late at night, when all others lay asleep, between your legs.
You’d felt a certain relief when he went off to war with don Pedro. Even though your heart ached for the inevitable change, a part of you hoped he would never return.
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As it turns out, your hopes were not to be realized. He has returned to his father’s country house, on the tails of some scandal in Messina. His temper is even fouler than you remember. His scowl, crueler. He has met with some disappointment, out in the world. You hope he will not take it out on you blameless servants.
Perhaps that is too much to ask of the upper caste.
You feel his eyes upon you again, as in the old days, but different. There is a weight in his gaze that makes you uncomfortable in your own skin, as though it no longer fits upon your own bones. It makes you ache for something no pious unmarried girl should yearn for, something you cannot name, only feel in the darkest hours of night when you lay awake on your mattress of straw, your sinful fingers exploring the bud of flesh between your legs.
You decide don John carries the flames of Hell in his burning dark eyes.
You dream of him, as though he has possessed your flesh in your sleeping hours.
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He corners you one day, as you are changing the linens in one of the many airy rooms of the hacienda. You eye him warily, as he shuts the door, his large and forbidding form blocking your exit. His dark eyes upon you are black as night.
“What a flower you have blossomed into, y/n,” he muses, stepping slowly into the room with the measured calculation of a predator stalking prey. “No longer the knees and elbows girl I remember.”
“You…have also changed, my lord,” you offer cautiously. No longer the awkward, rail thin youth, his shoulders have the breadth of a man who rides a charger and wields a sword. You have tried not to notice.
“How so?” he fishes, canting his head with a smirk.
Your face feels as though you have caught on fire. “You are…taller,” you offer, winning a cruel little chuckle.
“Oh? I do like the sound of that. What else?” Another step closer, his booted heel clicking on the floor, and you are veritably boxed in between the walls and the oversized bed.
“My lord?” you stall, mortified.
“Did you miss me, y/n?”
This question also takes you aback, and perhaps that is why you answer honestly.
“Sometimes.”
“Well. That is more than any of my relations here will bother to claim,” he answers bitterly. In that moment you still see a boy just striving, yearning for his father’s recognition. Perhaps it was ridiculous, but you always felt bad for him, in a way.
“Did you hear the happy news? Don Pedro has taken a wife, and opts to dwell in Messina,” snarls don John with a mocking brightness.
“How…fortunate for him.”
The man before you makes a sound that suggests he barely restrained himself from spitting upon the floor in his half brother’s name.
“Indeed.” He takes one more step, and you know you are done for, your heart in your chest. There will be no escaping now. “What of you, fair y/n? Assumed the yoke of marriage yet?” The disdain in his words hangs bitter in the air.
You are tempted to lie, but know no good should come of it. “No, my lord,” you answer, your voice barely louder than a whisper.
“How fortunate for you.” 
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Perhaps in your fear, you forget yourself. “John, please–”
He moves to strike, and you are but a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf, quick but not quick enough to evade him. His arm is like a band of iron about your waist, lifting you off the floor in his fury. He slams you down–albeit upon the feather mattress–a luxury you’ve never experienced for yourself, your back accustomed to scratchy tick straw.
“Insouciant wench! How familiar you are, to address me so.” He sounds so cruelly delighted by it, wedging his lean body like a knife between your legs, his narrow hips locked against yours. When you attempt to sit up he easily pins you down, his large hand spanning two of your wrists with ease, his other pressed lightly over your throat. You can hardly hear, hardly think, over the sound of your heartbeat thundering in your ears. He can surely feel it in your pulse, fluttering against his fingers. You are filled with fear–and the sharp ache of desire, God save you.
“Please, my lord…”
He makes a low sound in his throat, his lips tracing your jaw. “Please what, pretty maid? I have a mind to make a meal of you.”
“Please…don’t hurt me.”
“Hurt you? That is up to you, my dear. I will have you. Sweetly, or by force, tis your choice.” Your heart lodges in your throat. Your mother warned you about this, time and again. Men are dogs and gentlemen the worst of them. Never let them catch you alone.
And in your darkest heart of hearts, you know that a part of you hoped don John might do just that.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, surprisingly gently for such a villain, but you attempt to turn away. It only wins his annoyance, his large hand turning your face back to him. Before he can press his mouth to yours you say, “You merely seek to make sport of me in your boredom here. It is not right.”
He laughs at that. “Sport, I shall make,” he muses, hiking your skirts above your thighs. “Let us test the truth of your righteous outrage?” Boldly his fingers climb the trail of your leg, to the apex where he finds the damning evidence of your treacherous loins. “My lovely girl, so wet for such a reluctant quarry.” His long fingers dip inside your weeping center, and the sound you make does not resemble protest at all. He smirks down at you like the very devil. “And a virgin my little rabbit is not.”
Javi the stableboy took care of that for you, in a quick and disappointing tumble in the hay. His touch…had felt nothing like this, if truth you tell.
Ashamed, and burning, you look away. Tears trail out of your eyes, and a part of you wishes it shall just be over soon. He frowns at the shining tracks of water upon your cheeks, a menacing scowl that makes your eyes screw shut tight.
“Do not seek to engage my sympathy or my better nature, for you know I have none,” he growls above the dip of your throat, his lips searing as a brand upon your chest. 
“That wasn’t always true,” you dare, winning naught but a growl from this ravenous beast of a man above you.
“You are the only one who thinks so.” For the barest moment you see a flash of vulnerability in his eyes–the ghost of the memory of the boy he once was, there and gone like ripples in a pool. It is as though this second of softness spurs him on in his deed, as though he must shove it aside to enjoy his sordid pleasure.
Clever fingers tear at the laces of your stays; you are freed to breathe, but you are bared to his hungry gaze as he tugs down your shift for his delectation. “Such lovely fruits, just ripe for picking,” he muses, cupping your breast in his hand, suckling upon a nipple.
You never knew how such a thing could make your insides clench, your sinning cunt tightening in its aching emptiness. Your hips move against his of their own accord, your legs wrapping about him as you mindlessly seek some relief from this madness. He withdraws with a dramatic pop, laughing at your body’s treachery.
“You are a fiend.”
“Pray, tell me,” he taunts you.
“I hate you.”
“Is that any way to speak to your master?”
He is enjoying this far too much.
“You forget your place, don John, as ever.” 
That is when he slaps you. Not hard, nay, your own mother has hit you harder, but it certainly gets your attention. “I will rule here someday, y/n. Have a care with that tongue. I can think of better uses for it.” His piercing eyes fix upon your lips, a moment before he falls upon you, kissing you as though he means to devour you. You tense, thinking to bite him for being so cruel, so conniving, for just using you for no other reason other than he can.
He plays a very dirty trick on you, though.
That dexterous hand slips under your skirts again, swiping up your slick before circling that small nub of flesh that causes you such great tumult and shame. You moan into his mouth, and you feel him smile wickedly against you.
This man is the very devil, you are sure of it.
“Now who is ready to forget?” he taunts you, rubbing you in slow circles that drive you mad, make you writhe for the unbearable tightness coiling between your legs.
You can only manage a small cry, words escaping you. You’ve never felt anything like this, not at your own hands, and certainly not with Javi the stableboy.
“Please,” is all you can manage, and you’re not even entirely sure you know what you’re begging for.
“I like to hear you beg so sweetly.” He reaches to free himself from his breeches, his swollen tip hovering at your entrance. “So beg, wench, what favour is it you ask of me?”
You should entreat him to leave you be–you should beg for his mercy. But the delicious weight of him atop you, this dastardly man whose touch is such sweet sin–you are not sure you wish for him to leave you be. Your whole life has been such a march of drudgery. Even just the possibility of feeling something that is not pain or exhaustion makes you willfully forget every lesson your mother ever taught you, every fiery sermon the Padre ever flung down from his pulpit. Tis easy to renounce the Devil, until temptation has you in its clutches.
“I know not what to ask for,” you answer cautiously, and that at least is true.
Don John smirks down at you, a wicked gleam in his dark eyes. 
“Ask for my cock, you stupid girl, and if your quim pleases me perhaps I may be moved to share in the spoils.”
“Yes.” You strain your hips towards him, craving that satisfying, stretching burn of a man’s first thrust. That, atleast, you know something about.
“Yes, what?” he taunts you, delighting in your torment as he holds himself just out of reach.
“Yes, my lord,” you whimper, hating yourself as much as him in that moment. “May I have your cock?”
His smile widens in his devilish delight, almost showing teeth. “Remember that you asked for it.” But he taunts you no further, his thick head penetrating your weeping hole, the fullness of him stealing the very breath from your lungs. He groans once fully inside you, burying his face in your neck. 
“I’ve always known you would have the sweetest little cunt in the sierra,” he growls against your skin, and he begins to thrust.
If there is one thing you have always known about don John, it is that he loves to hear himself talk.
“You are mine, little maid,” he goes on, filling you so deeply you fear he must be in your belly. You are not sure you like it, and you only whimper in answer, straining for a better angle against him, seeking that certain friction that made you see stars.
“Say it,” he demands, understanding what you seek very well. You whine, turning your eyes to the ceiling. You know you are a mere peasant, and you know you do not own anything, much less yourself. Yet some small defiance rises in you, for his demanding tone.
“Perhaps I shall, if you make it so.” 
You wait for him to strike you again, but to your surprise he smirks with a sort of dark delight, only turning your gaze back to his with a rough hand upon your jaw. “There is the saucy wench I remember of our youth. Do you remember how you used to defy me?”
You don’t very much, recalling that he usually always emerged the master and victor of your games.
“No, my lord.”
“You do not recall striking me with a stick, in defense of a hapless bird?”
You blink, finding it rather unfair of this man to expect you to command the capacity to think in this situation. But then you do recall. You had all been small children. The boys sought amusement in throwing rocks at an injured sparrow. You had taken exception to it. 
Don John had sworn he would tell his father and have you executed.
You’d cried for days, but the sword never fell.
You’d nearly forgotten all about it, perhaps willfully burying the memory out of shame and fear. Mostly fear.
The bastard had deserved it.
He never forgot a slight, it seems.
“I always told myself I would have my revenge for that,” he tells you with a smirk, pressing his thumb into your mouth. You try to shrink away, but he has you like a fish on a hook. “Suck,” he commands you. You do not understand why those jetty black eyes boring into yours, paired with that unyielding tone, makes your needy cunt clench around him, only that it is extremely satisfying to see his eyes flutter closed, even if just for a moment.
You do as you’re told.
He uses your own saliva against you, reaching between your legs with that spit-wet thumb to touch you again. 
You forget everything else, but the carnal heaven that is his clever fingers with his manhood inside you. The sounds the two of you make are barely human, as you strain and writhe against each other, chasing your release from this hell. Those full lips made for sin devour you–his mouth on your breasts makes you see God, a searing pleasure crashing through you in a spine-cracking rush. How can something that feels so wonderful be so forbidden? Only then does don John truly let himself go, the sound of flesh striking flesh filling the room as he takes you with all his pent up fury. It is not long before he roars his release, filling you with ropes of his hot seed, his powerful body trembling in its tangle of limbs with yours.  
For just a moment you wished would last, his fingers lace with yours rather than pin you, his head heavy on your chest as he catches his breath. Yet when he lifts his gaze to you, his eyes gleam with their usual malevolence. 
“You will come to my chambers tonight,” he orders you. “For I am not finished with you yet by half.”
When your mouth opens–indeed to give protest–he silences you with a hard but heart-melting kiss, his long fingers tangled unforgivingly in your now loosened hair. 
“Do as I say, servant girl. Though if you don’t, I may enjoy making you.” That proud mouth ticks as he seems to imagine it, that fire igniting once more in his mesmerizing eyes. The thought simultaneously makes your blood run cold–and a thrill of desire run raucous down your spine.  
This man is the very devil. You are as sure of it now, as you know when the household goes to sleep, you will find your way back to his merciless embrace.
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tragedybunny · 3 days
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Pretty Baby 2
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༺Summary༻
Astarion is a brat on several occasions and is duly punished for it. In between, he and Mommy (Fina) deal with some emotional issues.
༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Tav
༺Warnings༻ NSFW - PiV Sex, Anal Play, Femdom, Mommy Kink, Feminization, Forced Orgasm, Chastity Cage, Porn with Feelings, Porn streaming, Pegging, Astarion being a brat
༺Word Count༻ 3783
༺A/N༻
So, it's chapter 2 of a fic I never planned to write. Lol. And somewhow now we've got plot and feelings involved. Hope you all enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing it. And huge thank you to the best of betas and friends, @icybluepenguin
The chat is populated by Tav's and other characters from my friends, they all helped makes this a delight.
Check out two similar fics if you dig mine. Decadent Torture and Careless Whisper
Read On AO3 Chapter 1
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“Hush, a little more, then your punishment is over.” I let go of his cock, turn off the plug vibrating in his ass, and give him a short reprieve. 
Drawing gasping breaths, he looks up at me with pleading, tear filled eyes. God, his eyes are pretty; startling crimson, soft, and round. Normally, I cave when they're all watery like this. But not tonight - tonight is for lessons. 
I play with the little pink bow on his white thigh high stocking. Leaving him with only those, his white bra, and of course his collar, made him such a fetching picture for our little teaching session.
He'd spent most of the night on his knees in the naughty corner, those stockings peeking out of his pleated white skirt, a little pink cashmere sweater completing his look. I'd posted a few pictures that had his audience nice and worked up.
Demi_g0ddess: oh looks like Little Star was very bad today can’t wait to see what Mommy does to the little brat Bookworm420: didn’t realize Mommy was a thicc queen this might be too much for my ovaries
The chat had been crowded when we set up for the stream. Before the camera went on, I told him what to take off and how to prep, but not what I was planning. 
We went live and I made him give a little introduction. 
“I've had a very bad attitude lately and Mommy wants to make sure I'm thoroughly punished, so she's letting you all watch.” Every word was said petulantly as he leaned into playing the brat. 
Ari147: wonder what he did… Drag-onme: who cares, as long we get to watch the aftermath BardlockLongdick: is that a leather couch animal cruelty is not sexy.
“Go on,” I prompted, gesturing for him to get ready. 
The clothes he stripped were folded and set to the side, the chat cheering him on. When he kneeled down, I handed him a vibrating plug that made his eyes go wide. 
“Mommy, please…” he pleaded, but obediently went to work prepping and inserting it, cheeks flushed a deep red. I let him position himself in my lap, head propped on the arm of the couch. Then I started typing, Astarion watching with dawning horror.  
Mommy: Little Star has been an absolute brat about wearing a chastity cage while I’m out of town, because he wouldn’t be able to touch himself. So, tonight, I’m making him come as many times as I think he can handle. 
Demonbbyy: poor little thing got himself into a lot of trouble  TestyZesty: Mommy is way too nice about it but I’m still going to watch.
And here we were- Astarion, covered in his own semen, whimpering in my arms. I drag my finger along his cock, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. One more and I think he’ll have learned his lesson. I push the button on the remote for the plug.
“Fuck,” he whines the word. 
Penguino: aww, Mommy, I think he’s had enough  TestyZesty: nah, he’s still coherent  keep going Demi_g0ddess: Zesty, we’re sharing a brain cell  DrowDaddy: this chat is very mean tonight
I put a generous coating of lube on my hand and begin to work his shaft again. He pants and moans, desperate sounds falling from his lips as he builds to another orgasm. 
The chat continues to go feral as he whines and cries. I'm gentle this last round, languidly rubbing, letting the plug do its work. “That's it, one more for me. You've been so good for your punishment.”
He squirms at the praise, tearfully whimpering, hips weakly bucking as I take him to climax again. My other hand turns up the intensity on the plug. 
“Pleeeease,” he cries, voice ragged.
Another spurt of cum and he goes limp. I turn off the plug and lean down to kiss his sweat soaked forehead, letting him recover for a moment. He's so pretty like this, spent and helpless in my lap.  “Now, are you ready to apologize for being such a little brat the past couple of days?” 
He doesn't hesitate. “I'm sorry, Mommy,” he whimpers, tears running down his face. 
“Good baby. Almost done.” 
He tenses. “But...”
“Shh. They get to see because of the attitude.” He makes a noise. “Don't turn this into a spanking session,” I warn and he gets quiet. 
I take a warm, moist towel I'd set up earlier and clean up his pretty cock. The chat is losing it. 
KneelForMeSweets: and we get to see the cage  can he act up every night 
It's a pretty pink little chastity cage, just perfect for him. I slide the ring on first, then put the tube over his cock before locking it down. He's so quiet, I can hear every breath and the sniffles he's still fighting. 
Once they get a good look, I shut down the stream. 
Mommy: I'm going to go get this little brat cleaned up. Hopefully, he's learned his lesson.
Bitchybambi: I hope not, I want to see what you do next  KneelForMeSweets: she can DM me for ideas.
I kill the video and give him a proper kiss as he clings to me, spent and shivering. “Come on, you. Bath time.”
Astarion is unusually quiet during our aftercare session, and when he's settled into bed in a pair of oversized pajamas, I pull him close, and he snuggles into my neck on instinct. 
“You know, if you think it's too much to wear it, you don't have to.” I run my fingers through his curls and cover his face in soft kisses. He's done stints in the cage before, but I'm starting to doubt myself on this one. It would kill me to ever hurt him for real. 
He doesn't move; if anything, he burrows deeper into the crook of my neck. “It's not, and I am sorry for being a pain. It's just…”
He makes a small, frustrated noise and I keep petting him. “Take your time.” 
For a few minutes, he just takes shaky breaths, and then he speaks. “It’s this whole going back to school thing. I'm nervous, and you're going to be gone for the next two days. And what if this is a dumb idea and I can't do it.”
“It's not a dumb idea, you really like fashion design, baby. And why do you think you can't do it?” 
“Remember the last time I was in school? I failed out.” 
“Astarion, you didn't want to be a lawyer and you hated law school. You only went because Caz-” I feel him tense in my arms, “because he made you.” 
“I know.” He sounds teary again. “But it doesn't mean I don't feel stupid.”
“Love, my pretty little wife, you are not stupid. You’re capable and creative. And you know I won’t have time on this stupid team building trip, otherwise I’d bring you with.” 
“Still going to miss you, though.” 
“I know, baby. I’ll be back before you know it.”
The next morning, Astarion drives me to the airport. I put the keys for his collar and the cage in my jewelry box in case of an emergency or if it’s too much for him. It's cold and rainy, and he’s adorable in oversize sweats with sleepy eyes. After he unloads my bag, I pull him in for a hug and feel it pressed against me. A wave of lust courses through me; I can’t wait to come back and have a nice little session with him. 
“Call me when you land, Fina.” 
I don’t know if he realizes how much I’ll miss him. Astarion and I have rarely been apart since we met in grad school. It's just as hard on me to get on that plane and be without him.
We get one quick call before I’m off to the first of many “activities” the firm planned. I can’t be too angry about it, they pay a ton, and it finances my trophy wife’s lifestyle. I tell Astarion I’ll call him after dinner and karaoke hour. 
The whole day isn't that tortuous, and most of my coworkers get into the spirit of things for karaoke. I still make my exit as soon as I can to get some time in with Astarion. 
To my surprise, I see he's streaming. Sprawled out on the bed in a sheer black satin chemise that's ridden up his thighs enough to show off his beautifully caged cock. 
Instead of anything salacious, he's painting his nails. Not every stream is as action filled as last night. Some of them are just mundane things like now. I can’t fault the audience, I'd still pay to see him too, if he wasn’t mine already. I slide into the chat without announcing myself. 
Ari147: nothing fun tonight? :( 
“I’m afraid not, darling. If I don’t get any fun, neither do you.” He blows a cheeky kiss to the camera, and readjusts, spreading his legs more. One hand idly traces unpainted nails along a thigh while he blows on the ones he just painted. 
He’s such a filthy little tease. 
Mommy: glad to see you’re behaving yourself tonight
He sits up straighter, eyes lighting up. “Hi, Mommy. Missing all this?” His hand climbs higher, running up his abdomen to his chest. 
Demonbbyy: if she isn’t, I’ll take him   Mommy: settle yourselves down
Astarion leans over, getting on all fours to look directly into the camera, licking his lips. “Well, are you?” he pouts. 
Mommy: you know I am, and I’ll prove it when I get home 
His breath hitches. “That’s all for tonight, darlings. I want to give Mommy all my… attention.” 
The stream goes blank and he’s video-calling me seconds later. “Hi.” He smiles giddily. “I thought you might be a little later.”
“What can I say, I do actually miss you a lot. How was your day?”
We chat for a while and I watch him finish his nails, still in his chemise, which hides nothing as he shifts around. He seems less nervous about the school situation, which I chalk up to actually talking about it. 
“Alright, I should probably get to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.” 
The morning call goes smooth enough, but the day is filled with seminars and an afternoon paintball session. Why do HR departments always think that’s a good idea? Astarion starts texting me around lunch, chatty little messages that I don’t have time to properly answer. Then the attitude creeps in. 
“Fine, if you don’t want to talk to me.”
“I. Am. Busy. Astarion. I’ll call after dinner.”
I forgot dinner is an awards banquet that traps me for longer than I’d anticipated. It never seems to end, and I start trying to text him during it. No response, and a part of me begins to stress that he’s not doing well. He’d tell me though if he wasn’t, I’m pretty sure. 
I practically run up to my room after dinner, skipping the cocktail hour after and all the great networking. All because he has me nearly panicked with worry. So of course, when he doesn’t answer his phone, I’m furious to find him on stream. 
He’s not actually wearing anything, sitting on the plush white rug, a cozy glow from the fireplace providing ambient lighting.
BaasaNova: weren’t you supposed to be in a chastity cage while Mommy is gone 
He gives his hard cock a firm stroke and moans dramatically, red eyes dancing with mischief. “If I’m getting ignored, I’m not going to listen. Besides, she’s busy, so what she doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt her.”
Bookworm420: this seems like a bad idea I don't want to see you get in trouble. 
It isn’t about disobeying me, or any other kink related thing. He really thinks I’d ignore him on purpose. And that stings like nothing else I've ever felt. 
I wait and lurk while he continues to touch himself. He's bubbly and flamboyant, basking in the praise of the chat. Normally, I'd be entranced by his hand working that gorgeous shaft, now I'm getting more furious. 
Finally, with an exaggerated cry, he comes all over himself. While his hand gives a few more lazy pumps, he glances at the chat. 
Mommy: I hope that was worth it 
His eyes get wide and he sits up straight. “Shit.” 
The stream dies just as he starts calling me.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” he whimpers before I can say anything.
“Astarion,” I cut him off. “I want you to know that I still love you and that isn't going to change. But I'm so hurt and angry right now that you could decide I would ignore you on purpose.”
“Please, I just…” 
“No, we're not going to talk about this now. I'm going to give you until I get home tomorrow to get your thoughts together. But right now I'm too angry to talk to you. So I'm going to go to bed and will call you in the morning.”
 He sobs. “No, stay on the phone with me. Please, Fina.”
I sigh and relent. “I love you, Star.”
We lay in silence for a long time, the occasional sniffle coming from his end. Finally, I'm too exhausted and have to sleep, and reluctantly tell him goodnight.  
There's a subdued call in the morning and I tell him I'll get a cab at the airport, I don't think he should be driving while that upset. Then I'm on the way home. The anger has mostly worn off but this stunt of his still hurts. 
When I get home, hev hasn't left the bed, completely naked, almost hiding under the covers. I don't even think twice before getting under them with him and pulling him to me.
��I'm sorry,” he says softly into my neck, reminding me so much of the day we first kissed. The day I'd needed to take care of him after what Cazador had done to him. 
“I know. Tell me what happened.” I bury my face in his curls and kiss his head. 
“I started getting nervous again and started to panic, and I wanted to talk to you. And I got upset that I couldn't. I know you wouldn't just ignore me.”
“Then why didn't you say you were anxious? I could have made time if I had known you were panicking.”
“I didn't want you to think I was weak. Especially after you told me that you believed in me.”
“Astarion, love, you are always going to be one of the strongest people I've ever met.” My hands rub his back, fingers finding the scars of years of his adopted father's “discipline.” “I'm sorry too, I think I pushed you into something you didn't need while you were nervous. Even if you said you were alright with it.” 
He gets quiet for a moment before answering. “It isn’t your fault. You’re always the best you can be to me.” 
“Still, maybe we should take a break from some of the more performative things.” I feel him tense and kiss his cheek to reassure him. 
“No, it makes me so happy to be like that, to be so completely yours. Don’t take that away.” 
“Let's talk some more tomorrow. There's no need to rush anything.”
“Alright. And, well, you did say that you were going to show me how much you missed me?” His voice pitches soft and breathy. 
“Astarion, you horny little gremlin,” I tease. 
“Please, Mommy. I know I was very naughty, but don't I deserve a little treat?” 
I already feel slick between my legs, even if I'm not sure that I should let him do this. 
“I know what you're thinking, but I can handle some relatively vanilla sex right now. I want to be loved.” He gives me his best wide-eyed pleading look. 
“Alright, baby.” 
I sit up, and he helps me undress, leaving kisses wherever he can reach. My hand reaches out to wrap around his stiffened cock and give a few languid strokes. I catch his eyes wandering down to my breasts with naked longing. 
Relatively vanilla, he said.
“Come here.” 
I lay back, and he follows, slotting between my legs. His cock pushes into me as his lips latch onto a nipple, and he sucks frantically. “There you go.” I stroke his hair, and he starts fucking me with wild, desperate thrusts. “That's what you needed, huh, baby.”
He whines and sucks harder, teeth scraping until pleasure blends with pain. Molten heat builds in my core with each snap of his hips, and I doubt either of us will last long. 
“So good for me,” I pant as I feel myself contract around him and my body tingle with bliss. That does it, and he gives one last jerky thrust as I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him in tight to take every drop of him. 
He collapses on top of me, still suckling, and I let him stay that way, fucked and comforted.
After a very nice Saturday in our pajamas, we talk and settle some things between us. Astarion is still very nervous about school in a couple of weeks, but doesn't want to change the things he loves about our relationship. He even insists on punishment for his bad behavior.
We agree on three days with the chastity cage, the two he originally was supposed to have and one extra. No clothing at home, so I can see it at all times. It kills me not being able to play with my wife's pretty cock. But you know, discipline hurts me more than it hurts him, or something.  
And at the end of the third day, a very serious lesson. So, I arrange something special, to be shared with his audience, like he shared his misbehavior. He's been waiting in the bedroom while I set things up.
“Safe word, wifey,” I order when I come to collect him. 
He stares at my too short, black latex dress with my pale pink strap-on visible where it rides up over my thighs, and blushes. “Objection.” 
“Good, baby.” I lead him to the living room where the camera is already at the right angle to watch as I bend him over the couch arm, pushing his face into the cushion right next to the waiting paddle. I watch him shiver with anticipation and spare a glance at the chat. They’re in rare form tonight. 
DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Back from my two week ban just in time.  Thornyonmain: Hggnnnnnn, god he looks so good like that am I enjoying the impending pain too much Bitchybambi: Nah, he's asked for this  Demi_g0ddess : You're so right, bestie Penguino: Aww, you guys, have a little sympathy
Picking up the paddle, I run it over the curve of his ass and hear him whimper. My hand pushes down on his back, commanding and reassuring. The first smack is light and I give him a moment. He trembles but says nothing. 
Another one, slightly harder, he whines but doesn’t say anything. I keep going, watching his pale skin burst into red blossoms with each impact. I can feel him shaking under my hand and hear when he starts to cry. 
“You’re being so good,” I coo.
He sobs in response. It’s been awhile since he had a serious spanking session. I keep whispering praise as I go, letting him know how well he’s doing, how much I love him. He’s a teary mess when I’m done, and I can feel the warmth coming from his skin. 
“I’m sorry I was naughty, Mommy,” he whines through tears.
“Shh, shh, I know. I think you deserve a little reward for taking the punishment so well.”
l take the lube I have waiting and coat my fingers. He whines for a totally different reason when I spread him open and push a finger inside his tight hole.
“Fuck,” he mewls when the second one enters. 
He pants through clenched teeth while I work them inside of him, getting him ready to take me. Each stretch and flex draws a new noise and when he’s ready, I coat the strap in lube and press the tip of it against his entrance. Even with a stinging ass, he rolls his hips into it, desperate and needy. 
I gave him a little playful smack on the marks darkening to bruises. “Behave.” 
He yelps but stills. Slowly, I slide it into him, relishing each little moan as I fill him. Then my hips rock, and I thrust deeply, before stilling again. 
“Please,” he begs, desperately. 
“Please what?”
“Fuck me, Mommy.” 
I reward him with another deep thrust, and began to move my hips with a quick rhythm. Under me, Astarion is losing himself, keening wails and pleading whimpers accompany my every movement. 
I'm aware just how achingly empty I am; later we’ll take care of me. Right now, I focus on making him properly blissed out. 
I know his cock is straining against the cage, leaking helplessly, as he reaches the edge. My fingers dig into his hips and I fuck him as deep as I can until a wordless shout rips from him and his whole body is shaking again. I press my hips tight to his, as deep into him as I can while his orgasm ebbs away with multiple whimpers, only pulling out when he’s stilled. 
Turning back, I give the chat a good-bye and end the stream.
SquidDomme: He has in fact not learned anything DrowDaddyG: I think he'll try to be better, he's such a sweet boy BardlockLongdick: Maybe you all should try opening a Bible instead of this website DM_ME_UR_SYRUP: Anyone know how I can get an air horn noise to play in chat (I'm joking, please don't ban me again)
Then I remove the strap-on and save it for later clean up. “Come here, wifey,” I say, sitting on the couch. 
Sluggishly, he obeys, coming to rest his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair and let him come  down from the experience. 
“I love you,” he murmurs into my thighs.
“I love you too. No more bratty behavior, right?” 
I feel the little smirk he makes. “Absolutely, lesson learned.” 
We both know he's lying, but I trust none of it will be super hurtful again. “Good little wife.”
Tag list:
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@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird
@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved
@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblogg @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch @waking-electric @snowfolly
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rabbitcrimes · 14 hours
Text
Wangxian Fic Rec: Science Fiction Double Feature 🤖🚀
Mostly wangxian fics with sci fi elements - space, dream science, mindlink, androids, cyberpunk cities etc
Out of Nothing by Pip (Moirail) - zhanchengxian - 27k Summary: You and me, Wei Ying had said. Jiang Cheng is going to take him at his word. Command says that the first neural link is the one that stands out the most, the one that everyone has to be the most careful of, because a navigator’s thoughts can get tangled up with their pilot’s and become inextricably linked. Entangled. My Notes: All time fave. If I ever shut up about this fic you should assume I've been body snatched. Transhumanism, nostalgia, space opera, mindlink.
In Imitation of Life by travelingneuritis - wangxian - 70k Summary: Lan Zhan stops in front of one of the bespoke duplicates— a male figure, small, creamy-skinned and lithe. The name on the plinth reads Mo Xuanyu. Lan Zhan tested it on his first pass through the room. The doll was empty. No signals bouncing around its artificial brain, no operating programs queued to autostart. Not even a blinking dormancy light. "Hey big guy," says Mo Xuanyu, chrome eyes sparkling with fun. "Who do I gotta fuck around here to get unplugged?" Wei Ying is a rogue AI come to life. Lan Zhan is… handling it. My Notes: This is my Neuromancer. Actually one of my favorite cyberpunk cities EVER. When I figured out what OP was doing with the city and plot structure I legitimately went insane. Android erotics, cyberpunk city.
More fics under the cut!!
via AMONG THE STARS BY PLONK (a series of oneshots set in Firefly's CU, all really excellent but I want to draw attention a few all time faves) A Monk and a Myth - wangxian Summary: take_me_to_church.mp3 My Notes: This is THE and I mean THE final word on science fictional religiosity and devotion. Can not imagine trying to tackle those concepts without having read this. Man as myth, folk heroes, Lan Zhan's canon typical devotion. a grease monkey, a companion, and some pals aboard the lil apple - wangxian My Notes: Lan Wangji is a very prim and classy companion (in universe style of sex worker) and Wei Wuxian is a ship repair guy and Lan Wangji teaches him the ways of the secular flesh. My fucking god do I think about this sex scene all the time. Like, weekly. a chatty mechanic and a silent academy survivor aboard the lotus - wangxian genderswap Summary: Just really excellent. Wei Wuxian is a ship mechanic and Lan Wangji has psychic abilities from medical experimentation from which she's been rescued. Solidly space western, the end of this one is just wonderful. Love the mindlink elements here. escapees aboard the radish - wangxian Summary: So absolutely crazy about this one. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are both ex academy students or have both been victims of psychic medical experiments. I love it as a story about trauma and living in aftermath. Mindlink.
promises of the future by spookykingdomstarlight - wei wuxian/wei wuxian - 3k Summary: His ocular sensors spin themselves to life. In the mirror, he sees himself. And he sees himself, himself but different, reflected from the mirror he’s resting against into the mirror he’s facing. Himself but slighter, features sharper. Himself, with eyes brightened by the power of a star. Himself, crouched above himself, close enough to kiss. My Notes: Yes you read that pairing right!! Give it up for robot eroticism!!!! Android erotics, cyberpunk sensibility.
some lovely, perilous think by varnes - wangxian - 24k Summary: Jingyi makes a sympathetic sound. “I’ve got a buddy in one of the Hefei labs, and he says there’s some evidence to suggest that people stuck in limbo develop, like, whole new neural pathways. And you go in and out of it all the time, right, so who knows what your brain is up to.” His eyes light up. “Oh man, would you let me — ” “Obviously no,” Wei Ying says, voice flat. “But you’re close enough to right. I can keep you all safely in the level, but it’s tiring. I can’t be both dreamer and extractor.” “I’ll do it,” Lan Zhan cuts in, before Jingyi can protest or Wen Yuan can ask any further questions. “It’s not a problem.” “Are you sure?” Wen Yuan asks, brow furrowing. “If your sub-security picks up that Xian-gege doesn’t belong — ” “They won’t.” Wei Ying frowns. “Not for nothing, ge,” he says slowly, “but the last time we were in your dream together, I fell off a cliff.” Lan Zhan looks up and over at him. There is something in his eyes that Wei Ying can’t quite read: something fierce, and faraway. “I remember,” he says, voice quiet. “Do you?” - Wei Ying takes a dream heist job with an old friend. My Notes: God this is wonderful. We've got a full cast and some case/heist fic flavoured science fictional elements. I think it plays very nicely with a lot of the other cool mindlink stuff on this list.
world.runExecution by pip (moirail) - zhanchengxian - 30k IN PROGRESS Summary: What does it mean to be human, anyway? “Here we go,” Wei Ying mumbles, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t have the chance to ask what that means before Wei Ying’s squaring up his shoulders and moving in a way that cuts a swath through the crowd. My Notes: my group chat commissioned this for FTH in 2022 and it remains the love of my life. Pip you beautiful genius. CYBERPUNK I LOVE YOU.
i will be chasing a starlight by feyburner, sundiscus - wangxian - 71k Summary: “You know what?” Wei Ying said. “I think we should be friends.”
“Vulcans do not have friends,” said Lan Zhan. He was staring very determinedly at the screen in front of him.
Wei Ying frowned at him. “That can’t be right.” My Notes: I am so insanely crazy town about this fic. God there has not been a filler entry on this list YET! below the clouds, above the lakes by northofallmusic (tofsla) - wangxian - 22k UNFINISHED Summary: Wei Ying was not formally considered a Jiang until it became necessary for a Jiang to marry a Lan as a guarantee of alliance. Now, in the habitat dome which houses the palace known as the Cloud Recesses, he has to navigate a new role, a new marriage, and an unfamiliar tangle of political relationships and loyalties. My Notes: I remember LOVING the worldbuilding on this and really enjoying the space OP was playing in, I thought it was worth a read. Thank you so much to everyone who recommended fics!! It's coming to my attention that this list is going to get massive so I'll reblog as I read and update it 🚀
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ninjakk · 3 days
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A friend who, unfortunately, likes JC defended him a lot to me when I was first watching the donghua then read the novels. Perfectly honest, I thought he was a loser but my friend kept defending him for being able to pull the Jiang sect together after the LP massacre but...I don't know? Did he really? wasn't it more WWX's reputation that pulled the sect up and high? Is JC actually a good leader? I have trouble seeing that
Hi anon 😊
Ah yes, I have been there as well unfortunately!
Although I was respectful of their opinion, it seems we no longer talk haha 😆 Perhaps it was something to do with the time they claimed JC hunting down and torturing innocent people who used guidao was "just a baseless rumour" - to which I casually responded with proof it was certainly not a rumour. I mean, JC literally encouraged JL to kill them and feed them to his dog for a start 😂 I don't think that was a joke in the slightest lmao. Honestly, I didn't expect them to take offence at the evidence proving otherwise, since we enjoyed discussing the novel and debating such things anyway! But, hey-ho!
Hmm, the whole "restoring the Jiang sect to its former glory" debate is a major source of discourse between MDZS fans! I mean, JC did join forces with the Twin Jades of Lan and launch a surprise attack on the Wens in order to secure their confiscated swords. Which I have to say, I always found so hypocritical and two faced of him to do... You know, considering he not only unjustly blamed LWJ for everything that happened to LP, but even wished WWX had left him and JZX to die in the cave prior to the attack as well! And he calls WWX shameless...
But even so, JC seems to have worked hard in the three months WWX was missing. Attacking the Wens supervisory offices and hunting down WC alongside LWJ and the respective cultivators under their command. Even WWX praised his efforts when they were all reunited. So credit where credit is due, I guess.
That being said, it works both ways! WWX's efforts should not be ignored either - which I often find the case whenever JC is praised for his accomplishments regarding the Jiang sect. WWXs new cultivation path is what helped them gain an upper hand during the Sunshot campaign, he garnered much praise and admiration during the war - it was only in the aftermath that people began to turn against him, especially seeing the obvious lack of loyalty or protection from JC. But WWXs guidao most certainly helped rebuild the sect's reputation and enticed new disciples as well. JC even gave his blessing for WWX to showcase his cultivation during the Mount Baifeng night-hunt, in order to recruit even more disciples! So I agree with you, WWX's new cultivation path was one of the driving forces in helping elevate the sect to its former glory, perhaps even beyond.
As for whether JC is a good sect leader? Honestly? No.
Evidence would suggest otherwise, in my opinion. Some like to pretend JC is the beloved sect leader of Yunmeng - but that's far from the case. He's made the sect less approachable, closed its doors to the public and scared away those seeking help on matters he doesn't deem worthy of his attention.
The general public seem frightened of him because of his awful personality and the fact they have witnessed him torturing innocent people. His own disciples seem to feel like they have to walk on eggshells around him and be careful of his famous temper. He seems more focused on pushing JL beyond his limits and imposing his own insecurities on the poor kid than actually helping others with their problems. When he's not doing that, he's off hunting down his latest unsuspecting victims to torture and do god knows what to!
So no, I don't consider him to be a particularly good sect leader, his priorities do not align with what I (or I would assume most others) would consider as such. A great leader is able to get along with others and inspire their disciples. They should also be able to secure backing from the general public by being present and approachable when issues arise.
Let's put it this way - LWJ was given the title 'Hanguang-jun' a title befitting of how the public perceive him, righteous and willing to help others. JC also has a title, that of 'Sandu Shengshou', which is in relation to a Buddhist saying regarding the three poisons - the root of all turmoil. Certainly not a good public image to have! Even the general tone of anyone talking about him isn't overly respectful - people rarely call him by his courtesy name unless they are addressing him directly. Otherwise, it's his birth name, which of course, is highly disrespectful unless you are very familiar with said person. MXTX made a deliberate choice for the public to call him 'Jiang Cheng' instead, so it is certainly significant and shows us that he is not well respected or liked by the general public and even other cultivators! This is in the first few chapters as well! All in order to set the tone of how JC is perceived. I mean, even the narrator (which is of course a stand alone entity/person and not WWX as many wrongly assume) calls him JC instead 😂
Overall, I think JC did put effort into building his sect up again, but WWX certainly deserves equal credit for that as well. That being said, it doesn't alter the fact he's not a very good leader in the sense I would consider, and I think that's been made more than apparent in the text as well.
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skullvgirl · 1 day
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a strange dream | barou
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incl. barou 🎀 ( he would kill me )
warnings. completely sfw, fluff, school!au, fem reader, very much ooc, slow burn
an's. i missed him so much i had to revisit
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BAROU probably hasnt got any interest in you before your relationship, not in a bad way but lets be honest—he's a soccer addict, he definitely wouldn't notice you until well, he did.
you're both sitting in math class (which did i mention had one hell of alot of students) and someone from the other side of the room asks to pass a note to you, rumor has it they've got a crush.
eventually the note ends up in the large hands of Barou Shouei and he's of course expected to pass it along to you but doesn't see anyone ahead of him expecting to receive it from him. he's confused—who the hell was yn ?
its his bad—he really wasnt to familiar with anything not soccer related.
he looked around, then finally decided to give the piece of paper back to the person he got it from—whoever that was.
you look at barou confused, so the paper was for you? you had originally gave it too him because you weren't sure if the people mumbling in the back of the classroom were really talking about you or not.
you opened your mouth to whisper-yell at him, but he wasn't paying attention to you anymore, his eyes trained on the teacher once again.
you uncrumpled the paper, trying to be as quiet as possible in the dead silence, but with no luck.
"yn?!"
shit
"yes miss?", you hid the paper under the desk, trying not to make eye contact with the 28 other students that had eyes on you.
"care to share with the class whats so important that you need to be passing notes in my class?"
fuck
reason #1 why you really hated this class, your math teacher was a fucking bitch.
'mean girl giggles' echoed throughout the room, barous eyes paying special attention to what you were about to do.
you dreaded the feeling of being forced to stand up in front of the entire class and read aloud whatever was written on the small note.
"get to it missy"
oh fuck off
you looked around the classroom trying to assess anyone who may have been distressed or embarrassed but with no luck, everyone seemed to be waiting on you.
weird...
"im serious yn. if you dont start reading in the next 10 seconds im going to—"
"no, no thats okay—i-im reading"
for whoever wrote me this, i am so sorry.
you cleared you throat in preparation for the humiliation you were about to face, curses be upon you miss peterson.
"hi, i think your really cute, we should go out sometime together, from..."
your heart stopped.
oh no this cant be right
"thats it."
"thats it?" the teacher probed, slowly making her way towards you.
"that it. i-it just says from your secret admirer after that nothing else".
your math teacher narrowed her eyes, looking closely at your expression—she didn't buy it.
dont breakeyecontactdont break eye contactdont breakeyecontactdontbreakeyecontactdontbreakeyecontact—
"really..."
"really!" you broke eye contact.
she pointed her nose upwards, probably as high as possible and began walking towards your desk.
"alright then i wanna see it, i need to have it confiscated"
"what?!, why?" oops you said that kinda loud. the class whom had previously lost interest when you finished reading turned back towards you and miss peterson now intrigued.
"well why not?! it was a distraction in class and now it needs to be taken away to make sure it wont be a distraction again...!"
but that doesn't make sense, if you care so much about us passing notes you should take our notebooks not the gosh dang note !
"but that doesn't make sense—" but you didn't get a chance to finish as the teacher viciously snatched the paper from you and spun around back towards her desk.
you sat down and burried your hands in your face, you couldn't watch this.
"oh this looks fun...says it's from barou shouei, not what i was expecting...not what i was expecting at all..."
fucking kill yourself, PLEASE
the class, which had previously been dormant erupted in a series of raging giggles and screams—shocked at the reveal of who the note was from.
a soccer player.
it was no secret in BLLK High that nobody—under any circumstance—was to mess with a soccer player. they had a bit of a reputation going on. even the nice ones.
" 'cuse me?" a commanding and masculine voice emerged from your left side and you turned as quickly as possible to the over 6 foot ( 182 cm ) tall man trying to explain yourself.
fuck, one day you were seriously gonna kill your math teacher.
"no, no no i promise it's not like that—i seriously don't know who made this i promise it wasn't from me and i know it wasn't from you—"
"you're yn ?" he cut you off smoothly, leaning back in his seat ever so slightly.
"huh?"
his knees were facing yours now. "you're yn right? been wondering who that was for the longest, guess i know now, cool."
"huh?"
okay now you were confused—about multiple things actually. #1, barou shouei, the man you'd been sitting next to for almost a full year now had yet to learn your name untill just now which is—gosh, just outrageous even for a soccer player
and #2 he wasn't toltally angry and going to kill you like everyone said he would have, should you make a fool of him?
no seriously someone explain what was happening.
you didnt get a chance to ponder on your thoughts much longer however, the bell rang loudly in your ear and soon everyone including yourself was making way for the door out the classroom.
what the fuck just happened, what the actual fuck just happened.
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"heyy ! yn over here !" you didnt realize it but you apparently had auto-piloted your way all the way through lunch and was now being called over by people you've never talked to a day in your life—and you knew exactly what it would be about.
could this get any worse
you were about to find out. "yes...?" you asked, tray still in hand while you stood awakwardly by the trash can near the lunch table who called you over.
"soo—wait first sit down, we're friends we're friends, sit down first" one of the girls said, patting a seat next to herself eagerly.
you looked at the eyes on you and quickly made a decision to move.
there definitely here to ask me about him. it can't be that bad right? i think her name is ashley? i don't know maybe this'll be fun, maybe they'll be nice.
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"so have you guys had sex?"
"what?! no—"
"have you guys even ever kissed yet?"
"no—"
"we used to talk you know", this one was from ashley, a pretty blonde haired girl who's blue eyes sparkled like marbles.
"really?"
she was attractive that for sure but and you could definitely see why some people would wanna date her but barou? not so much.
"really"
like in what world would some super macho super mysterious soccer guy get the hots for some popular pretty blonde girl? not to mention an obnoxious pretty blonde girl.
gosh i sound like a pick me right now, who knows maybe they really did talk
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"didn't even know her name" barou said, cracking his neck from side to side.
"seriously man?" asked isagi, popping a fry in his mouth.
"dead serious"
this was the soccer table, a table where only the best of best players would sit for lunch, not that it was official or anything—but new students were warned not to go near The Table anyway.
"so you did ask yn to prom?"
"no bachira, i didn't ask her how many times to i have to say that, i barely know her anyways"
"untill today" kunigami confirmed.
"until today" barou repeated.
"would you though?" chigiri asked, he glanced over at your table—you were pretty that much was obvious but it was barou we're talking about, who knows what he thought of you.
"nah, couldn't."
"why not? shes not ugly" nagi questioned albeit a bit insensitively.
"shes not but..." he trailed off, stringing his eyes from nagi to you, she looks kinda...
"but what"
"i don't want her thinking we're dating after prom or somethin', gotta focus on the game."
"what if i did then, think she'd say yes?" it was reo speaking now who was now also looking at your table.
"nah, your uncanny resemblance to a donkey might turn her off"
The Table laughed as reo scowled at the other players, he didnt find it very funny.
"shut the fuck up shouei, i didn't hear her accepting your undying love now did i?"
"thats because i never really asked her dipshit"
"your point! still better than knowing your rejected as a default"
"is it though?" barou was almost smiling at the purple headed boy.
"oh really? watch me"
the table made boyish "ooo"-ing sounds and reo stood up confidently.
shouts erupted from the table, causing the whole cafeteria to turn towards the players, they payed them no mind however, only staring intently at where reo was walking.
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"look, look, look! one if them is coming over here right now!"
"really?!"
you whipped your head around towards where the whole cafeteria's attention had been directed.
nononon, this cannot be happening. you seriously did not need another soccer players thinking you were some freak weirdo because someone else wanted to be messy!
"thats reo, he's super fucking rich, i heard he has a whole two backyards !"
"and an a theater room!"
great, and it was a rich snob kid too.
"does yn sit here?"
your table said nothing, even the loud ashley kept quiet while he was talking. everyones heads turned to you, waiting expectantly for you to say something.
"yeah thats me..." you said meekley.
reo smiled and curled his finger towards himself a few times, asking you to come to him.
this is so awakward
you stood up silently and walked over to where reo was. he didn't stop directing him towards you until you were standing right up against him, close enough to where he could grab your jaw and yank your ear towards his mouth.
"you're hot, go out with me"
your eyes bludged, and your heart accelerated way more than it should have. that was NOT what you were expecting.
reo let go of your face, his hands were in his pockets as he waited for your answer, he looked confident tou would say yes. and most people would, but this was a soccer player we were talking about—and this one specifically was known for being super rich, super smart and a super hoe. three things you couldn't be bothered to even try giving a chance with.
you glanced behind him trying to peer at the damage that had been done.
holy shit the whole fuking cafeteria is looking
"so?"
you were snapped back into reality as reo looked at you, still waiting for an answer. it was pretty obvious what you were going to say.
"no. im sorry but no, i hardly know you and you're really not my type, sorry."
your table made all types of noises as they watched the now humiliated boy bite a scowl and walk back too his table.
you quickly sat back down and watched as The Table made fun of reo's rejection. all the players were laughing but you were only looking at one.
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"said i wasn't her type". The Table erupted in laughter, all the players except reo cackling like animals.
"fucking told you so, at least get to know the girl before you start trying to hit on her" isagi joked, slapping reo on the back repeatedly.
"no for real, dont know what made you think she would fall for you in a day, not all girls are so easy you know" kunigami shook his head.
"what did you say too her anyways?" nagi asked now curious as to what got him such a harsh rejection anyways.
"didn't say nothing, js asked her if she wanted to go out, said no, that's it." reo reiterated bitterly.
"knowing him it was probably something like 'youre hot, lets go out'" barou said offhandedly, distracted by the feeling of eyes on him.
"you could hear?" reo asked, now confused.
The Table went silent for a moment and isagi burst out laughing when he realized what reo had just said.
"so you did really say that?!"
the emmbarassment for reo only cotinued further but barou wasn't paying attention to that. the eyes from before were still on him.
it was you.
cute...
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BAROU isnt really much of a romantic either, he hasn't got the headspace for it like he does for soccer, so of course—he's not seeking the love. the love is seeking him.
1 week later
you sat quietly in the school library studying like a madman for finals, it was just near the end of the school year and you were determined to get good marks on all of the subjects.
the library was the most perfect and quiet place to relax and work at the same time—without any distractions or problems to bother you from your job.
"excuse me?"
you glanced up to where the voice was coming from and your heart felt like it was going to explode.
it was none other than barou shouei in the flesh.
a whole week, a whole week you had managed to somewhat avoid his presence and pretty much ignore him during math ( your teacher denied you request to switch spots ) it was going fine untill—well, now.
"can i borrow your computer charger? mine just died and a left mine at home"
that was it?
you didn't really know what to expect from the man though. he was known to be pretty brutal on tbe field maybe you were assuming he'd be the same in real life.
although i guess i shouldn't think that considering how chill he was over the fake confession and all of that...
"oh yeah sure, I uh can let your borrow it no problem"
"thanks"
barou took your charger without another word and walked back over too his seat.
the racing in your heart was begining to subside, that wasn't so bad...
you shifted to get comfortable in your seat and began studying once again, right now where was i...
"excuse me?"
and just as you were getting comfortable. barou shoei again.
"yes?"
"sorry im back so soon but, could i sit here for a little bit. the outlet by my table isnt working for some reason" he said it in a polite tone but seemed eager for an answer, he was probably in a rush to get as much study time in before practice like most athletes were.
he really isnt as scary as i thought he'd be...
"yeah of course that's fine, it's better this way anyway, wont forget you had it in the first place ya know" you smiled moving your belongings over to make room for his.
"thanks"
barou set his things down and soon enough a static silence ensued over the both of you, not that you minded though. you still needed to get work done and it was better he wasn't attempting to make conversation with you. it is a bit awkward though...
"you color coded your pens"
the voice that emmited from the other side of the table almost made you forget who was there.
"i did, why?"
"nice, i did too"
barou didnt wait for an answer, but instead pulled out a all black pencil pouch to reveal all seven colors of the rainbow line up in order.
jeez, i just think it looks cool, his has all the pen hooks facing up too, ocd much?
that wasn't the main point though, what was more important was his sticker—on thst rested sturdy on his bag. "you watch graves anatomy too?"
he looked surprised when you mentioned the show, and nodded his head appropriately. "yeah, and im all caught up too, all 22 seasons and counting."
"holy hell, im only on season 12 how to even time for that—aren't you always having games and stuff, scince your on varsity and all..."
barou quirked an eyebrow, "mm you know your stuff—i make it work"
now it was your turn to make a face "you make it work...really, its that easy?"
no. the absurbant amount of school work i have is fucking killing me right now plus i've got sisters too take care of so no, it's definitely not easy
thats not what he said though.
"yup, real easy." he nodded his head and although you didn't buy it, it was hardly your place to nag. he didn't seem like someone you should nag.
"uh huh.." you shook your head up and down slow and repeatedly, "for sure, for sure"
"what you don't believe me?" barou moved his chair closer to yours, so close in fact you think your knees were touching, his arms bulged as he rested his hands on his head ; it was hot nice seeing him in a position that wasn't so straight .
"no i do, you seem really responsible im sure you're great at 'making it work' " you put a thumbs up.
gosh, could you be anymore awakward...
"oh im responsible ? you would know that im responsible?" barou questioned, leaning even closer on his arms towards you.
is he...flirting with me?
you laughed and covered your mouth with your hand leaning slightly away as he got closer.
"i mean yeah" you paused to swipe away the nonexistent dust from your eyes, you just couldn't hold the eye contact.
come on, dont get shy now yn.
"people talk, i guess."
"do they?"
"they do" you nodded your head firmly up and down, since it was the only thing you were sure you could do at the moment.
"mh"
mmh?!? the fuck does that mean ??
"so yn i wanna ask you a question" barou leaned back as he said this, finally returning to his normal position.
holy shit my heart was beating so fast, somebody get me on a stretcher and to the hospital NEOW, i am about to blow!
"yeah?"
barou stayed silent for a few moments, thinking deeply about what he was going to say.
"hypothetically..." he paused, staring directly at you.
"hypothetically..." you confirmed.
"hypothetically if someone, other than reo from the soccer team—just as an example lets say...yoichi ! remember hypothetically speaking—asked you out on a date what would your answer be?"
huh?
"what kind of question is that?"
"a hypothetical one" he said matter of factly.
"a hypothetical one, right, well if—hypothetically of course—i was asked out by isagi, om a date that is...i don't know...yeah? I guess i'd day yes?"
"really, you would?" he looked surprised and you suddenly felt alarmed, was that a bad thing or something??
"yeah? i mean no, not really—maybe not if he asked the way your friend did..."
"mhm"
??? again, what does that mean?
A moment of silence passed between the two of you and you tried and failed at going back to the work you were supposed to be doing in the first place.
"what about chigiri?" he said suddenly.
"chigiri? what do you me—"
"chigiri. pretty, has red hair, plays on varsity and is super fast? chigiri. would you say yes too him?"
"i mean, maybe, yeah he's definitely not ugly and i guess if i knew him well enough I would probably say yes—why are you asking me this?"
barou said nothing and suddenly, the strangest thing began to happen—he looked at you smiling—a large, uncanny smile resembling a creepypasta monster formed from on his face, your heart began to beat but for the wrong reasons.
"wake up yn" it was definitely barou's voice but it sounded far.
"huh?" you couldn't move, and you now realize you probably couldn't move for a while.
what...is happening...
"wake. up."
your head shot up from your arms, ans you looked around disorientedly.
oh...
up untill about the last 30 seconds you were a bit disappointed it had to end. your dream that is.
"yn", a voice—much deeper than you recall im your fantasies spoke out to you as you felt a tap on your shoulder.
it was barou. the real barou.
"i baroued your charged?" he said holding it out towards you. (an's. IM HALARIOUS LAMOSJKWIS)
"oh. right sorry, thanks." you took the cord from him. but he didn't leave, still looming over you in his tall stature he spoke again.
"uh, you got a little.." he pointed to the corner of his lip, scratching at it in expectation for you to do the same.
you did, softly at first, not really sure what is it he was implying but quickly realized what he meant after you felt a crusty dry substance still left from your unconscious.
oh..
oh !
"ive got drool on my face haven't i" he nodded his head, and you swore you saw grin appear on his face—a real one but he turned and walked away before you could make confirm.
"thanks for the charger yn, see ya later"
his back was facing you now, slowly getting smaller and smaller at he walked away from you.
seriously ! could i be anyless embarrassing for even a second!
im afraid not yn.
because according to barou, he thinks your little moments of embarrassment and humiliation were pretty damn cute.
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BAROU is never scared. he hardly ever get worried, he's king and one of the best players in his school, he's top of his class always and struggles—never. so why? why was it now, over some so trivial that he was all thoes things he never gets all at once?
1 week later, in the classroom.
barou felt weird.
the truth is, he didnt need a partner for the social studies project. his teacher was allowing groups of two or singles all the same. his reasoning behind why he wanted a partner is what was scaring him.
after almost an entire year, barou realized that you not only were in his math class, but his social studies as well. and his history, and biology—even his orchestra ( he plays cello in case you were wondering ).
he realized that you were everywhere.
barou, for the first time was recognizing someome else, not on the team, not an adult, but a girl, he was acknowledging a girl, as more than nothing.
it was weird.
"yn."
you peered up at him, wide-eyed and adorable. "work with me on the project"
your eyes, (e/c) and beautiful, got impossibly larger.
"yeah—uh—sure we can"
he gave a thumbs up, and went back to his seat.
what am i doing?
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"i dont know, maybe we can exchange numbers instead?"
"yeah thats better, since im hardly on social media anyways"
even though you've got so many followers..
"alright cool"
you and barou were in the library, again. instead of dreaming about his muscles however, you were watching them in real time move for your phone and yours the same.
there wasnt mych said after that, only short words to communicate what part of the project you both were supposed to work on, untill...
"yn?"
"yes" and once again, you were looking at him, wife eyed and adorable.
"i've got a question to ask you"
no way, did i fall asleep again?
you sucked in a breath, and pinched your cheeks, not paying any attention to the words that might come out of his mouth.
"ow!" nope, you were definitely awake.
barou raised an eyebrow and couldn't hold himself in. he burst out laughing and you we're glad the library waw empty, because in all his seriousness—barou's laugh was loud. like the sort of thing you'd been holding in for a while.
"what yn, afraid you're gonna fall asleep again?"
your cheeks heated up an intense amount.
"no..."
"you're funny you know, really funny"
"huh?!" you squeaked, shifting all over in your chair. "what does that mean"
barou leaned in close to your face, so close that your noses were touching.
"it means..." he tilted hid head sidewards, waiting for your permission.
"i think you're the stupidest most adorable person to exist..." you didn't move away.
and like a shock, barous lips were on yours so softly it made it feel very much like a dream, but it wasn't.
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an's. i know this is not himmm, he wouldn't even look at you after a supposed fake letter i knooow, i couldn't think of a better way to force it ( i was lazy ) and he's cute let me live.
an's. i rushed the end i knoww, leave me alone. i like writing for personal enjoyment shhhhhh.
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