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#also i wish i shared his sentiment
parlerenfleurs · 3 months
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I couldn't stand being with a person who is jealous and possessive as a rule, but the small, kneejerk reaction I've occasionally incited from men (unintentionally) was sweet and refreshing like fruit. Oh what is it? You want my affections all to yourself? How charming.
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baddiewiththebook · 6 months
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ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 2]
-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst
-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]
-> a/n I tried to tag everyone I saw, but some of y'all weren't linking. Also, there is a part three because part two became so long. Whoops!
[Part 1] Part 2 [Part 3]
-> <-
“You're eventually going to have to talk to them,” Robin shimmies her backpack into the empty chair next to her rather than being strewn across the lunchroom table. “As far as they know, you changed your hair and your clothes and now you hate them.”
You place your lunch tray onto the open space, then sit across from her.
Distancing from your friends was cruel, and you knew that. Robin is also right. Still, you wake an hour early to get to school ahead of them. Taking windy pathways past the gymnasium that stunk of socks to avoid Eddie on his way to his classroom that is two doors away from yours. You carry all of your heaviest books now because Gareth’s locker is across from yours. You do regret leaving that sandwich in your locker though. Gross.
With a routine schedule, two months have flown by without a hitch in the plan. Robin likes sitting with you at lunch, but she does wish you chose to sit here rather than watching you screw away at a tight bond with the boys over at the other table.
Things were desperate by the first week when you shoved toilet paper up your nose in order to fib to Eddie that you were too sick to go anywhere. You missed two days of class just so you could keep away from him.
Then, there was the band performances. You never missed a single night that Corroded Coffin played music at the scrappy biker bar at the outskirts of town. The boys had stopped inviting you after “missing two,” but you snuck into the shadows in the back of the bar. No one really bothered you there. Stage lights distracted the performers enough to where they could only see the front row of drunks.
All of the practice in Gareth’s garage paid off. Corroded Coffin was good - no, excellent. You were so proud of the boys.
You wish you could tell them.
And, so, maybe Robin is right. All of this running around is silly and reckless. You miss all of your friends dearly. Even Eddie, who still you find absolutely and undoubtedly the most complicated soul you ever met in your entire life. Your friendship is more to you than desperately clinging to his ankle like a shaken chihuahua in heat.
Maybe there is a part of you that still wishes he’d see. All the effort you put into your hair, your skin and your nails isn’t just about proving that you aren’t just one of the guys. You knew this from the very beginning. Still, even after your conversation with Gareth that one night, you still play out this plot a little longer.
You like the shiny bling and the tighter clothes that get you a bit more attention. But, you didn’t have to change yourself completely - right?
“Isn’t it time for me to mingle with people who have similar interests as me?” You say finally out of your head. Snagging one of Robin’s fries, you drop down in the seat across from her.
“You've proven you can be a chick with or without that frizzy haired freak. Don't act like you don't like the same stuff they do,” she flicks your jacket, which has hours of patchwork done. You had sewn on patches of your favorite bands. Most of the bands, you had learned from Eddie, himself.
Hours of listening to music together in his trailer, while sharing a blunt. Eddie would get a wind of energy and then he’d leap onto his bed for a solo performance. Fingers stroking a guitar that never existed. You laugh as he tumbles over his mattress, and he tells you that’s when the crowd will carry him - to victory!
You warm at the memory.
Eddie is the only person at his lunch table. Kicking his foot up onto an empty chair, he lounges and he waits for his friends. He’s always the first to get there because his class is so close to the cafeteria. It takes Gareth and Jeff a longer time because they come from the gym. And, the freshman come from the opposite side of the school, so they take the longest to get to the cafeteria.
“Go on,” Robin nudges you. “I’ll see you in math later.”
By the time Robin kicks you thrice in the shin, you get over your worries. You want to patch your friendships up with the boys, but you’re not sure what to tell them. Explaining the truth felt horrific. That you like - er - liked Eddie. Gareth’s confession in the kitchen.
Yeah, the truth seems far fetched.
Your second option is to beg for them to quit calling you ‘one of the guys,’ but that too came off risky. You've never had a problem with their comments before, or their disgusting antics and habits. Once you smell a Jeff fart, then all of the other farts seem forgiving. Seriously, no one should ever give him cheese again. Yet, they do.
Anyway, talking to Eddie first feels less daunting then to come up to all of them at once. But, with your stalling, your wish comes to late. The boys rush the table, hollering and whooping like unkept animals.
You stop in your tracks fully when you see two women beeline for the table. They never invite people to their table. Or at least, they never invite just anyone.
Roxie is easy to recognize. Candy coated red lips meet that of Eddie’s pale cheek that blushes a deep crimson at the affection. Eddie hangs his head, so he can smack a wet kiss to her lips. She uses a free hand to swipe the spare lipstick from his mouth.
“Sweetheart,” Eddie cooed.
Roxie touches his hair in a way that makes his eyes droop low, and he rests his head on her chest. All while he keeps his conversation with Jeff going.
Meanwhile, the other woman is her opposite.
Brunette hair cascades down her back, and tangles amongst her woven sweatshirt. Arms wide open with her slender fingers covered by the net sweater she hid under. She sneaks up on Gareth, and hangs over his neck. Gareth cranes his neck, and whispers in her ear making her laugh sweetly. He touches her wrist with gentle fingers and he pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose with his free hand, before they have a chance to slip further down her face.
“Indie!” Dustin shouts.
The girl hanging from Gareth picks her head up, and grins with a shining sparkle in her eye at the young freshman. She reaches over to ruffle his hair.
You panic.
Slamming into someone’s shoulder, you apologize and you retreat like a mouse being stepped on. Time slows down. You move around people as fast as your feet will carry you.
You can hear your breath in your ears meeting up with your heart banging against your ribcage.
Robin calls to you, but you can’t hear her. Blood rushes through you, and you swear your can feel the swimming and the tingling. Your fingertips tingle when you push open the door into the hallway.
Technically speaking, you couldn’t be out here if you're on our lunch period. A few classes still go on, but mostly the teachers didn’t want anyone to catch them smoking in their classrooms where they shouldn’t be. It’s not like the smell lingers.
Somewhere down the hallway, a classroom is having a heated debate. Voices bounce from wall to wall. Echoing into your eardrums. All. Too. Much. You aim for the big showy doors at the front of the building.
Cool damp air hits your cheeks. Trees stand tall. Birds hold meetings on their branches. They sing soft melodies. Outside smells earthy.
Immersing yourself in the sourness of the damp remains of rainfall, you slow your jagged breathing. Your heart beat regulates.
Keys trembling in your fist, you find your car parked not too far away in the parking lot. Some asshole has blocked your passenger side in, so even if you wanted too you wouldn't be able to get in that way.
Kicking yourself for taking the cowards way out, you catch a tearful glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Mascara slips down your cheeks. Your drowning in two inches of water.
Eddie's bandana sits in your glove compartment. It still remains his with the lingering tang of old cigarettes and sweat. You told him if he left that nasty thing in here that you'd wash the stink out.
You haven't.
Clinging to a tissue, you use that to pat your face dry. Dabbing at your eyes, you don't want to disturb your makeup. Funny how a few months ago, you would be scrubbing your cheeks raw to get anything off of your face.
The tapping on your window startles you because you think a teacher has seen you. However, you find only Robin with a pitiful expression on her face. She waves for you to roll down your window, then holds out your backpack and your jacket that you’ve left behind in your scurry to get out of school.
“You left your things,” she looks at your puffy eyes and your worn out makeup. “Are you okay?”
“No,” you reach out for your things, only to put them in the passenger seat next to you, “I think I’ll go home.”
“Indie is a really nice girl-,”
“I’m not worried about Indie.”
Robin winces at the sharpness of your tone slicing through the air like butter. You apologize to her.
“I’m going to go home, Robin.”
“Roxie and Eddie are only going to last for a day - I guarantee,” her shoulders bobble. “It’s Roxie.”
“Yeah,” you say thinly.
Robin taps your car. “Get home safe.”
“Will do,” you say. “Thank you.”
-> <-
When you arrived at school the next day, you're in class for less than fifteen minutes before your name blasts on the intercom to report to the main office. Robin salutes you from her seat in the back of home room like you’re taking a final walk, before they take you around the back and shoot you between the eyes. Well done, soldier.
Although not as dramatic, you were served a detention slip for after school. You suspected as such, since you left halfway through school without an explanation. Next time you'll go to the nurse, and heat up the thermometer with your tongue. Give her a cough, or a sneeze and she would send you home.
You tap your fresh manicure across the etchings in the desk. Profanities. Markings of once was, and forever will be.
Low rumbles cause for distraction. You pick a desk next to a window where you see the gray clouds clustering in close. They spit at the ground. Droplets of water slip across the glass. You guess which droplet will get to the bottom first, and silently cheer the winner.
Your eye drifts to the front of the class where your chest rises and falls at the next person to walk through the door. All those months of hiding your head felt worthless when Eddie shows up.
For a moment, you think, he’s looking right at you. You swallow, but you try waving. Eddie does ignore you and plops himself into a chair at the front of the classroom. His backpack drops with a thunk.
Tipping your attention back to the window, the rain comes down harder in flashes of wet thunder and lightening. Dark and stormy weather is your favorite. Because, after the rain stops, you like splashing in every puddle until you can’t see the color of your boots anymore.
You can’t do that in your new sneakers. Not a speck of dust on them. Barely out of the box.
“Everyone in their seats,” a man in a blazer walking with an arch to his spine tells us. He hovers at the front of the classroom with both hands on his desk, while peering just above his square framed lenses. Wild gray hairs stick out on end near his ears. You wonder if he’s done this on purpose to accentuate that despite he’s bald on top of his head, he still in fact has hair. “I’m Mr. Clark, and this will be an hour long detention session.”
You came prepared with notebooks and homework to do for the next hour.
“I’ll be taking attendance, and then you may quietly do your homework or read . . . for all I care, bang your head against the desk just be quiet,” he aims the metaphorical bullet at Eddie and misses, and hits the wall just over the top of his head.
Eddie clicks his teeth. “You got it teach.”
“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark groans. “Will I ever get tired of seeing your face?”
Eddie grins famously. “Oh, you know you’ll never get tired of me, Dick.”
“It’s Richard,” he clears his throat, then straightens his tie, “Mr. Clark to you.”
You miss the banter. The smart mouth Eddie that has you drooling. Oh, God, please resist getting sucked in again.
The notebook in front of you has pages of blank white paper. You focus on filling in the lines with your math equations.
“Solve for E,” you tell yourself in a hushed whisper. “What ever happened to X?”
So, you solve for E.
You raise your hand when your name is called for the attendance. Pretending that Eddie didn’t whip around at your name, instead you solve for E. You solve for E because E is the equivalent of- E is the equivalent of-
Eddie can’t help, but watch your eyebrows get closer and closer to your nose. You get frazzled easily when you know you’re close to an answer that’s on the tip of your tongue.
You’re breaking now. Keeping your head down, as Eddie burns holes into the top of your head. E isn’t an equivalent of anything. E is the most complex and confusing letter of the alphabet. You swore up and down that you would avoid E. E’s in front of you. There’s no way to escape E for an entire hour. Even when you think you've solved E, you still have to see E living in a trailer across from you. E’s lights still on. Eating. Watching TV. Changing. Sleeping. Dreaming.
Crap, you are not thinking about the fifth letter in the alphabet. And, you are certainly not thinking about math.
You throw down your pencil in frustration.
Eddie waits for Mr. Clark to finish his attendance taking. In mere moments, the old geezer passes out despite his fifth coffee of the day. He rocks back in his chair, arms at his side with a trail of drool spilling out down his chin.
That’s when Eddie moves.
“Hey,” you have your head down on your desk by now, but Eddie doesn’t care.
He doesn’t understand why you’re avoiding the group. Obviously, he misses when you would sit at the table and you correct his homework from the night before. You’re too smart for him. Eddie knows this. You’re more than a brain to him, though. The way you speak with your hands more and more when you get excited.
Eddie likes to pretend not to understand why he gets nervous when you lean over his shoulders to show him how to work out a problem in one of his classes. He pretends to not notice the scent of your soap that smells so sweet and delicious. That the smell lingers when you leave.
What he can't shake, however, is why you haven’t been speaking to him for the last two months. Darting into empty classrooms when you think he’s not looking. When your home, you'll keep the lights off or low enough that he might forget you’re home (he doesn’t). And, you think you’re clever sneaking into the back of his performances with the band, but Eddie sees you there dancing by yourself with a grin on your face that could break apart the gray days and bring back the sunshine. You haven’t missed a single performance yet.
So, where have you been?
You bring your head up from the table because you know Eddie is smarter than to think you’ve fallen asleep. Sometimes you talk, or you twitch your arms - Eddie’s seen this when you knock out after a long day. He'll let you sleep there, but he'll take off your shoes so that you're comfortable. And, he'll even place a blanket over you because you'll start to shiver. But, he never stays. He doesn't want you to wake up because Eddie is notoriously clumsy. Instead, Eddie would sneak into the living room twiddling his thumbs making no noise until you wake up. He wouldn't turn on the television. He wouldn't warm anything up in the microwave. He wouldn't even open his fridge. He would sit on the floor of his living room kicking his feet together, and plucking at the carpet fibers.
You never sleep long - thirty minutes at most.
Eddie thinks about how much time you spend together in his trailer at this moment. You’ve shared everything. Clothes. Towels. Blankets. Toothpaste. Food. Secrets. You've made a mark on him when he wasn’t looking. If there is a way to tattoo someone into their brain, into their heart, you're there.
That terrifies him.
“Hi,” your voice melts him.
Eddie stumbles over his words. “Erm-,”
“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “I just-,”
“How are you doing?” Eddie wants you to keep talking. He’ll ask about anything to keep you here with him. Tempting you like a rabbit, and him holding onto a carrot, he waits for you to bite.
“Good,” you reply. “You?”
“Yeah, good.”
You can’t hold back. “You’re with Roxie, now?”
“Hm?” He hums. “It’s casual.”
“Casual,” you repeat. “Like I said- erm- I’m sorry that I haven’t been around. My classes-,”
“Don’t lie to me,” Eddie’s eyes swell, and you fall deeper into the trap. “What’s happening to you?”
Okay, truth time.
“I liked a boy, and he didn’t like me back,” you stretch out your top. “I even tried changing my look, but that seems pretty pointless now. But, I guess I just got tired of being compared to a boy.”
Eddie could faint. You're infatuated with someone so much that you changed your entire wardrobe. Guilt rubs at him.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Eddie's denying what he already knows about himself. That if he kept comparing you to one of his guy friends that certain emotions couldn't grasp hold of the surface for air.
“Who's comparing you to a boy?”
He had to be sure.
“Seriously?” you frown. “Everyone. You. Gareth-,”
Confirmed.
“Is this about Gareth?” Eddie clenches his fist around the back of his chair. “I swear to God, I’ll pummel that little sack of shit.”
“Eddie,” you scold. “It’s not Gareth- never mind.”
“Wait, who’s the guy?”
You hum. “What?”
“You said you liked some guy?” Eddie pieces together. “It has to be one of us, right? I mean you stopped talking to all of us specifically, so which one of us is it?”
“That’s not important,” you suck in a breath. “Eddie, I’m doing homework.”
He snorts, the flips the page so he can read the question, “you’re doing it wrong.”
You roll your eyes. “Aren’t I usually the one who’s correcting you?”
“Gareth’s girlfriend has been helping me since you- never mind,” Eddie sees the tension in your jaw. “Okay, so to solve for E, you plug in this number here and then you take the square root there.”
You’re irritated, but Eddie is right and you mark your paper up how the equation should be.
“Thank you.”
“So, it’s Gareth,” Eddie presses on.
“What?”
“The boy you like that doesn’t like you back?”
“No,” you write another math equation out on your piece of paper. “Actually, Gareth liked me, and I didn’t feel the same.”
Eddie knows this, but he just needs to hear you say you don't like his friend.
“The plot thickens,” he gets comfortable. “Is it Jeff? Come on, Jeff is a catch.”
“Eddie, please drop it,” you beg.
Eddie throws a few more names out that you can ignore over your homework. But, slowly he begins to run out of ideas. You know where he’s going, and you’re not sure how to react when he says,
“It’s not me is it?”
Your pencil stops scribbling, and if you’re careful you can pretend to be thinking really hard about - what two plus two equals. Oh, damn.
“It is me.”
Those three little words trip you up more than Eddie’s jaw being on the floor right now. You stammer for a little too long. Tripping over the right words to say to him.
This is it.
The moment you’ll lose him for good.
You want him to just tear your heart from your chest and squeeze it until it pops. Make the pain of an aching heart go by so much faster.
“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark rose like a zombie from the afterlife. “Is there a reason that your seat is empty?”
Eddie whirled around. Still stunned, he replies,
“Uh. . . right, sorry.”
Without making too much noise, Eddie puts himself back into his original seat towards the front of the classroom. Fidgeting with his pencil, someone might mistake that he’s doing homework for the first time.
Eddie lives across the trailer park from you. How could he not see this coming? All the nights he's spent rescuing you from the clutches of your mom, who, despite being a wonderful host, has this unnecessary plea that you embrace your ‘femininity.’ That’s what you call it, he thinks.
Oh, and now to let you down.
Eddie’s seeing someone great. Roxie. She’s - she’s - she’s not as much of a slut as people say. And, he likes - no he loves that thing she does with her tongue.
Okay, he’s getting distracted.
You’re one of his closest and longest friendships he’s had. And now, you, have to go and change that.
Eddie’s mad. Angrier than angry. How dare you bring this to him.
Two months you kept away. You ran around the school like a chicken with your head cut off trying to avoid all of your loyal friends. And, you brought Robin into this mess?
Robin, at the very least, is a sweet and a neutral party. Okay? She doesn’t involve herself with anyone’s drama. She just sticks to the side of the drama like she's riding in a sidecar, and she takes notes. She lingers.
Eddie rubs his eye.
Maybe if you and he went on one tiny - the tiniest - date. As in, he doesn’t pay for food, kind of dates then you’ll get whatever you want out. You can go back to being friends, and Eddie can still see Roxie. Because, he likes Roxie.
He doesn’t like you like that.
Eddie wants nothing more than to forget the conversation you two just had. Yet, you’re lodged in his brain like a damn tumor. Yeah, a tumor. Growing at an alarming rate, he wants to smush your pretty little face. Not in a violent way - no, he’s not like that. He just wants to get out the tension, and - and hold you for a night? Does that make sense?
No, Eddie it does not.
Eddie wishes you didn’t smell so good today . . . and all the other days. If you smelled like an ogre, he could stop thinking about taking you on that ‘barely-call-it-a-date’ date. Although, if you were an ogre and you did smell as good as you do right now - ugh, that doesn't matter!
None of this matters. Why is he thinking like this?
In theory, he’ll take you somewhere romantic. To release you of your crush faster, he’ll spend the money - okay? He decides to break the bank for you.
Only once.
There’s a little spot outside of town that has the most delicious steak dinners. They have a dimly lit dining room, so Eddie wouldn’t have to see the dress you spent hours deciding on wearing. Your bare skin softened by the scented lotion you bought just for the night. He can hear your laugh like a song he knows by memory. You tilt your head back, exposing the flesh of your neck.
After your dinner, that he pays for - not you, he’ll walk you down the street where he parked his van earlier. He’ll have cleaned out and scrubbed the seats until every stain kicks the bucket. Driving you home, he’ll feel that knot in his chest that he knows from watching cheesy romantic comedy movies as practice for when that crap happens to him (he doesn't do that . . . shut up.). That knot tighten a little more by the time he gets to the trailer park. And, by the time he gets out of the car his fingertips start to shake.
Eddie will open your door, if he can get there before you. Taking your hand in his, he’ll feel the warmth of your skin against his. How right the moment feels. How nervous your breath is against his. How close you are to him. He’ll be the one to learn in first - you're too nervous to make that leap.
Lips as sweet as milk and honey. He would kiss you for a long time, always coming back for more. Eddie won't find himself getting enough of you. You’re touching his hair, and he melts.
Eddie will never want the night to end.
“Munson!”
Eddie doesn’t recall falling asleep. Yet, his eyes snap open. Mr. Clark’s slobbering from the side of his mouth. He’s so close that Eddie makes out the patches in his face where he’s forgotten to shave.
The classroom is emptying. He only catches a glimpse of you leaving.
“Go home, boy,” Mr. Clark begs. “You and I both know you don’t want to be here for any longer.”
No, Eddie does not.
In fact, Eddie would much rather be wrapped in your arms in either his bed or your bed.
Eddie shoves his notebook and his pencil back into his backpack knowing full well he heard something crunch unhappily in there. Racing out of the classroom, he sprints after you in the hallway.
But, you’ve already gone.
-> <-
tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia
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zhongrin · 25 days
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cw. chubby!reader, fem!pronouns, afab!reader, body insecurity, hurt -> comfort
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al haitham, listening to you rambling about your insecurities; specifically your weight and how you look. patiently stroking your hair as you lament about how everyone tend to prefer, respect, and give priorities to women who are 'prettier', daintier, more petite, with their prominent collarbones and thighs that don't jiggle when they walk, who looks doll-like in boyfriend hoodies and can be lifted and spun around easily ー everything that you weren't and everything that you wished you were.
he watches, head tilted, as you finished talking, your eyes looking up at him expectantly, prompting his input. yet he also sees the underlying fear in your gaze, as if waiting for him to agree with you. as if he, too, shares the same sentiment with all those people.
what a ridiculous notion, he thinks, though he decides to not say it out loud.
he understands that you're upset and insecure, but the things you said just cannot seem to click in his brain, like a bunch of disjointed puzzle pieces trying to find their way to replace a perfectly finished puzzle within his mind. a thought as useless as a vision casing worn by non-vision holders.
"... so your conclusion is that you are not worthy of love because you're not 'petite' or 'dainty'?" he frowns, staring at you for a prolonged moment, "... i cannot relate to those thoughts, so i must ask of you to explain why you believe you are undeserving of love because of your stature. as far as i know, neither of the aspects forms a direct connection, and whoever does so are shallow people who do not deserve of your valuable time."
his gloveless hand brushes upon your cheek, enjoying the softness of your plump cheeks. he adores it just as much as he loves your full breasts, your pillowy thighs, your snuggly arms, your squishy love handles, and your biteable tummy. but perhaps he hasn't shown it enough, if you've been brewing these dreadful poisons inside your head all these time.
"you might not fit into my clothing. but in my eyes...," his eyes are gentle, sincere, "..... you are easily the most beautiful girl i've ever seen."
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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 months
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≡;-꒰ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔
╰┈➤ ❝ caleb x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, yearning, kissing, make up sex, soft sex that turns rough quite quickly, dom!caleb, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, praise, use of pet names "baby" "pipsqueak", lmk if i missed any tags !!
wc : 4.1k
Perhaps, yearning had a time and a place for everyone. But for the two of you, maybe it had gone on for longer than you could take, the slightest shift in the atmosphere ready to break that fragile little bubble of boundaries.
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"If it were that easy to get a license, I wouldn't be here in your bed complaining, you know!" You scoffed, falling upon the soft mattress and dangling your feet off the edge. As Caleb laughed, easing into a spot beside you, you softened.
It had barely been a few days.
You'd get back from your exam, wrestling uncertainty with your results, and he was there—ready to listen, willing to offer a crying shouder if need be. You didn't cry, of course, only complained. But the mere presence of him by your side was enough to lull you out of your negativity, turning your talks into lighthearted moments for you to look back on and smile.
It happened often, with Caleb.
It was so easy to be with him, so easy to relax and just... be yourself, no questions asked, no image to uphold.
Ever since you were children.
It was just the kind of friendship you shared; the mutual trust, the mutual comfort. And you wouldn't have it any other way, except that...
Discreetly, you glanced at the figure beside you, Caleb also having gone silent, the both of you taking to stare outside the window of his room. He looked sentimental like this, almost, and pretty. The steadiness of his broad back... and the way you thought it would be nice, for once, to ruffle his hair instead of the other way around.
All familiar to you, all... cherished, by you.
"So... You'll be leaving again, huh?"
Your voice was casual, or at least—as casual as you could make it be. Yet, a certain apprehension settled into the pit of your stomach, and when he turned his head to face you, violet eyes glowing under the drifting moonlight, you felt yourself swallow thickly.
"Ah, well. You know the drill," he shrugged, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. Yet despite the playfulness in his tone, there was a gentleness in his eyes that made your heart churn. "My vacation ends, and I gotta be on my way first thing in the morning... Y'know. The usual."
You wished he wouldn't say it out loud, but you supposed you brought this upon yourself. You were the one that had asked, after all—yet you looked into his eyes, finding that you couldn't even bring yourself to look away, and there was nothing to stop the pout that slowly formed on your face. It was your turn to look away, almost as if refusing to look at him when you were like this.
"When will you be back again?"
He stayed quiet, for a while. If you looked at him, you would have noticed the little tilt of his head, the little smile on his face. But you could feel his eyes on you, and you wouldn't dare turn your head.
Caleb, after all, never missed an opportunity to poke fun at you.
"Aww, pipsqueak, are you that upset?"
You couldn't believe he would even question it.
Huffing, you glanced to the side, already noting the glint of mischief hidden in his eyes. "What, and you're not?" Your voice was sharp, but your retort lacking. Even Caleb knew that you were often more creative with your responses, and he had the audacity to laugh at your expense, almost delighting in the way you would puff your cheeks, indignance written all over you.
"D'you want me to be?" He grinned, leaning down to your height, searching your eyes. Always, you would think that his irrational penchant for being perceptive would be your downfall, and you knew this was no exception.
"...You're always so telling with your gaze."
Caleb shook his head, straightening himself only to reach out and ruffle your hair. It was just as he'd always done since you were children, and the gentle familiarity of it made you bow your head in resignation. "'Course I'm upset, pipsqueak," he sighed. "It's always hard to leave home, isn't it?"
His voice slowed to a pause, almost as if he could have continued, could have added to his words—but he didn't.
This time, it was your turn to be curious. If Caleb knew your reactions and your habits by heart, then you, too, could say the same about him. And sure enough, the more you studied him, even as he chuckled and turned his head away, the more you took note of something in his eyes that you couldn't quite find a name for.
Still, more than your curiosity, was your growing indignance at his words.
"...Is that it?" You mumbled, hands gripping at the fabric of your nightgown. "It's hard to leave... home. So it's not hard to—"
"Leave you? No, it is, pipsqueak. You are home."
His words caught you off-guard.
He wasn't looking at you when he said it—there was no trace of a blush on his cheeks, on his ears, anywhere—It almost made you doubt the seriousness of it, or why he would say something so... direct. Caleb wasn't usually expressive with you in this way; compliments, yes, but he'd never called you... home, before.
The word lingered weighty in the air.
But in the silence between you, and the more you thought of it, you couldn't help but dwell on the unfairness of it all. "Then—then—!" A frown formed on your face, watching as his eyes turned back to you when you spoke. "Then stay..."
It almost hurt you the way his eyes softened, teasing mirth replaced by a knowing gentleness. His hand edged closer to yours, body leaning ever-so-slightly towards you. "C'mon, pipsqueak... Y'know I can't do that..." he mumbled.
In slow, careful movements, his other hand reached to rest gently on your head, making you suddenly hyperaware of the way his fingernails would graze against the skin of your scalp, running through your hair in a sweet, tender stroke. He'd repeat the same motion, another silence weaving between the two of you, before his hand settled on the side of your face—the ghost of a touch, only barely feeling his palm press against your skin.
You held your breath.
"If I could," he said, "If I could. I'd be back here every week, spend every day with you like back when we were kids."
Feeling yourself slowly melt underneath the tenderness in his gaze, your shoulders relaxed, your grip on your clothing easing slightly. But still, your own eyes drifted to the ground.
Despite all your indignance, despite the terrible, terrible thought of having him go away from you again, you knew what he said was true. Caleb had always cared for you as much as you cared for him—it shouldn't come as a surprise to you that his absence hurt him equally as much, and that he would only put up a front for you, if only to be the solid foundation that he had always been for you, all these years up to this very moment.
Tears brimmed at your eyes, Caleb immediately shifting closer to place both of his hands by the side of your face, wiping them away with little swipes.
"Hey, now. Don't cry on me. You know I'll still be back on my next holidays!"
"But when?" You put in every effort to steady your voice, unwilling for it to waver in front of him, unwilling to let any more tears fall in the most obvious display of desperation for him that you've ever had. "How long will you be gone? Only to stay again for another week or so... Sometimes, you stay even less than a week. I've barely managed to have a proper conversation with you this time, and yet— yet—!"
You sniffled as your bleary eyes settled on his features, leaning into the comforting warmth of his hold. "Ugh," you scolded yourself, though there was no weight in the way that you did. "You... you make me feel like a little kid, Caleb. I'm not even supposed to be this selfish with you."
"Hmm. Aren't you? You've always been a little selfish with me, and if I'm honest, this isn't really too surprising." He chuckled again, and the playfulness in his eyes made a temporary return before he dared to step closer, inching towards your face. "But I don't mind, pipsqueak. 'Cause I miss you just as much, everytime I can't see you."
His words were warm. As warm as the way he looked at you, as warm as the way he held you.
As warm as...
Your breath hitched in your throat, and you, too, dared to step another line into something the two of you had never set foot in—almost closing the distance, almost giving in to the thoughts that probed your mind, almost—
You pressed your forehead against his, the both of you taking a moment to peek into new territory that had been brought out in the open. Your lips, now, were close enough to barely touch. You could see deeply into his eyes like this, too—the way golden flecks of light mixed with saturated, purple hues, and for the first time, you thought, you noticed... Caleb was a lot like the sunsets you would see on your way home.
"What's on your mind, pipsqueak?" He murmured softly, the rasp in his voice revealing to you just how much your actions had caught him off-guard, just how much he was straining not to step a toe out of line from whatever you wanted; whatever this was.
The tension in the air was unmistakable.
You could think; imagine, perhaps, his heartbeat was racing in his chest just as fast as yours was. Perhaps, you would be able to feel it for yourself, if his body was pressed up against yours...
You watched as his gaze drifted down towards your lips, and you flushed at the subtlest indication that he might have the same thoughts as you did.
"Caleb..." you whispered, placing your hand over his, tilting your head slightly to the side and holding him closer against your cheek. "When you're away, do you... Think of me?"
Silence; his eyes never strayed from yours, waiting, observing, attentive and careful to note how you would approach this situation.
"The way that you miss me... What is it like?"
A slow inhale, one hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ears.
"Hmm, well... Maybe it's exactly in the way you're thinking of, right now."
"And... What would that be?"
"...Dunno, pipsqueak. What would it be?"
You smiled, seeing the flicker of a challenge in his eyes, but recognizing there to be equal parts of caution, still watching, waiting, waiting for you to make your move.
"Would you stop me?" You said finally, slowly draping your arm over his shoulder. "If I moved a little closer now, and then we'd..."
It was your turn to glance at his lips, so close to you, yet so far, almost blurry and out of focus with your proximity. You could feel his steady breaths against your face, and he didn't answer you. Instead, he took your words as his own confirmation, breaking the boundary, tilting his head as he captured your lips into a soft, gentle kiss.
He moved his lips slowly against yours, hands trailing down your face, down your back, settling on your waist—and then he pulled away, half-lidded eyes examining you closely. One beat, two—Caleb pushed you gently against the sheets, pressing close and flush against your body, his heartbeat racing in time with yours just as you had hoped it to.
"You... mean this, pipsqueak?" He breathed.
"...Do I lie that often to you? The reason I miss you so much, the reason I so badly want you to stay... Did you think it was because of whatever childish attachment I've had to you from the start?"
He nearly scoffed.
"Oh, what. And you're gonna call me oblivious? Like I don't see the way you look at me? Like I don't see the way you melt?"
This time you gasped, and a smirk played at his lips—his lips, ones that had kissed you just seconds prior. "You—! That's—!"
"I've known aaallll along, pipsqueak. But you've never had plans on acting on your feelings, right? So I'm just asking, 'cause... I don't want you to regret what we're doing."
Though feeling the weight of embarrassment begin to swirl in your stomach, your eyes softened.
Ah, you thought, he's always so considerate.
"What..." You searched his eyes, "What are we doing? What is this, then?"
"...You could think of it as me making it up to you..." Caleb spoke slowly. "Well, whatever this is, I could kiss you here for hours—easy."
You felt the heat rise back up to your cheeks—
"—Oorr..." He smiled, tucking another strand of hair behind your ear. "If you want a more detailed memory to keep you company while I'm gone, I could do even more than that. But your call, of course."
Immediately you understood what he was implying, and the mere thought of it turned you completely red in the face, pushing him away with a gasp.
"Caleb!" You cried out, and beside you, he laughed.
"Guess that's a no, then? Ah, well. No biggie, I could wait another few months or so. C'mere, and I'll—"
"N-no! I... I didn't mean it like that."
You cut him off quickly, chewing on the inside of your lip, and he raised an eyebrow.
"No? So what'd you mean, then?" Caleb reached out his hand for you to take, gently tracing his fingers over the skin of your palm.
"I... I'm up for it," you said, after a moment. "I mean... I don't mind. If you... If you wanna—do—what you were—"
You couldn't complete your sentence, and he squeezed your hand, another chuckle escaping his lips. "You would, huh? Have sex with me?"
His blatant admission had you burning, immediately pulling away once more to cover your face. "God, Caleb! Don't just say it like that!"
"Hey! I gotta be sure, don't I? Who knows if we were thinking different things?"
"But—! If you say it out loud, it sounds...! Embarrassing!"
"What, that I want to have sex with you?"
You could hear the infuriating melody of amusement in his voice, clearly pleased at your flustered reaction, clearly enjoying this mental torture on you like he always did.
"Caleb..." You whined at the sound of his laughter, peeking through your fingers just enough to let him see your pout.
"Alright, alright! I'll stop!" He grinned. "...But seriously, though. It doesn't matter too much that I've been waiting, I can wait a little longer if you're not ready yet. 'Cause honestly? I'm just happy enough like this already."
Like... This?
Your mind drifted to his kiss, his soft, plush lips mingling with your own. It had lasted barely a few seconds, but even the mere thought of it made you weak. The mere thought of holding him—doing more—having him love you, tender as always, in ways that he had never before. You'd fantasized about it, sure. Undeniably. Sometimes you would sit in one of his hoodies, flushing at his scent and the way that you could easily reach down to touch yourself in it—
You never did, out of the mere fear that you would never be able to look him in the eyes if you did.
But now, his own feelings, his own desires, lay just within your reach. No matter how scary it was to dive into such a foreign, indiscernible place of your relationship... You've never had him closer to you, and you didn't want to let go of that feeling.
So with a shy gaze, you closed the gap between the both of you once more, kissing at his neck and feeling each shudder of his body zap straight down to your core. "It's okay," you mumbled, "I think... I'd rather not wait, either."
In a flurry of movements, you were back against his pillows, his body above you and arms and legs tangled in a passionate embrace. Unlike earlier, each kiss upon your lips had you gasping your air—almost starved as he mouthed at you, almost desperate to explore every curve of your skin in a way you didn't know he ever could be.
"Unbelievable," he breathed, panting as he pulled away, fingers slowly gliding beneath your nightgown, tracing circles over your stomach. "I'm actually, actually touching you like this."
"Unbelievable?" You scoffed, turning your head to the side. "I should be the one saying that. Having you touch me like this..."
He smiled. And then slowly, his hands traveled up your skin, bunching the silken fabric of your nightwear up and above your breasts. You saw him draw in a shaky breath, a tremble in the way he stroked your skin—"Oh, fuck," he whispered, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Seriously, it's like a miracle, shit..."
"...Caleb, are you going to just tease?" You frowned, feeling vulnerable in the way he stared. Your body remained mostly exposed, revealed to him in a way that had him frozen with having never seen you so naked before.
But Caleb licked his lips, feeling them dry at the mere sight of you.
"Oh, baby, I wish."
There was a raspiness in his voice as he moved to yank down his sweatpants, chest heaving in the way he tried so hard to control his breaths.
Baby, he called you, and you could have sworn you let out a whine, the new nickname striking a chord inside of you more than you ever expected it to.
"I— shit. I really wanna take my time with you... Give you a whole experience you can think of 'til I get back, but you—"
A sense of urgency overtook him, and his hands were back on you, tracing your thighs, trailing up to press at your panties and nearly groaning at the patch of wetness he could feel.
You drew in a sharp breath.
"...Damn. It looks like I won't be able to keep my composure, not when I've thought about this moment for as long as I can remember."
His hand was pulling your underwear down within seconds, leaving your lower halves bare and exposed. The tip of his cock was wet with pre-cum, the sheer length of it having you momentarily speechless.
"W-wait, you're not—?!" A hint of panic rose in your voice as you sat up against the headboard, but he gently pushed you back down, towering over you.
"It'll fit," he spoke, matter-of-factly, reaching down to swipe at your cunt before bringing his hand up to your face. That smirk was there again, the tease in his eyes ever-present despite his promise not to leave you feeling unfair for too long. "You're crazy wet, pipsqueak. I think I'll slide in just fine."
His words brought a dangerous sting to your cheeks, feeling yourself clench around nothing, eyeing the slick that coated his fingers from a single swipe.
If, you thought, if he had those fingers inside of me, I wonder how deeply he would reach...
He leaned down to kiss you, almost as if reading your thoughts. "Not now," he murmured. "Maybe later. Maybe next time, when I get back."
You frowned. "Don't... don't talk about leaving when we're like this..."
"Baby—"
"No, Caleb. If I'm going to remember this moment, I am not going to think of it as the night before you go away again!"
Amusement flashed through his eyes, and the tip of his cock brushed lightly against your entrance, coating your clit with your wetness.
"Alright, I digress," he grinned. "But it's not an if, right? You will remember—and then you can busy yourself with the feeling of it whenever you need to. It's the whole point."
"...Busy myself?! What do you think you're—"
Your words were lost into a gaping moan, feeling his cock stretch at your walls, heat and pleasure coarsing through your veins in sharp, quick bursts.
"Fuuuuckkkk." He groaned from the throat, your hazy eyes making out the way he grit his teeth, his own eyes shut tightly as he pushed into you, all the way up to your hilt, gripping the headboard in ragged pants. "So..." he breathed, "So damn tight."
"Y-you're just—ngh—so big—"
It was almost as if he were intent on rendering you utterly speechless, barely giving you time to time to adjust before he was snapping his hips into yours. Every movement had him filling you up, thrusting into you balls deep, hips moving quickly, rhythmically, splitting you open with ease.
"W-Wai—iit— a-aahh—" Your back arched in raw pleasure, submitting to every ounce of desire that poured out of him. "Shit!" You cursed, head thrown back into his pillow. "So fast—Y-you're so fast—"
He only let out a hum of a moan in response, eyes finally opening, hands shifting to grab onto yours and pin them right up above your head.
"Oh, fuck— Caleb—!"
"Good," he rasped. "So wet, so tight, so—haah—so good—"
You clamp down tightly around him, greedily sucking his length in with the steady pulse of your cunt, moans breaking, body squirming under his grasp and the lustful heat of his gaze.
"Oh, god—sorry, baby, I can't—" Caleb's pace seemed to stutter with the way you clenched around him, pounding into you more erratically, cockhead hitting the spot that had you jolting. "You're too perfect, you're exactly how i've imagined—"
Whimpers began to fall from your lips as you struggled to wring your hands free from his grasp, desperate to touch him, desperate to feel him closer. And Caleb remained attentive despite his obvious euphoria, releasing your hands and leaning down close to you, grunts with every pump of his cock, almost needy for your heat.
The feeling was too much.
He was fucking you, and you couldn't think straight—you'd opened your mouth, and before you could stop yourself, you were spilling his name in ways you wouldn't have done otherwise.
"I love you, Caleb, I love you, I love you, I love y—nnh—leb— haah— I love you, Caleb—!"
It didn't take long after that for him to twitch in your cunt, and your walls fluttered around him, locking him in place as he stilled, spilling inside of you enough to have you leaking. It was enough to edge out a release of your own, and you trembled in his embrace, bodies locked in perpetual ecstasy.
And he was right, you would remember it.
Every slide of his cock against your walls, you'd remember it—and, with a pang, you realized... you'd long for it.
"...You're so cruel," you whispered as he leaned down to kiss at your jawline, slowly pulling out of you and collapsing beside you with a sigh.
"Hmm, wow. First, an I love you without warning, and now I'm the cruel one?" He laughed softly beside you. "Was I too hard? Sorry, pipsqueak, you're much too—"
"I love you, Caleb." Your mind much clearer after your high, you repeated your words, albeit shy enough to still turn over and snuggle into his chest. "Just... how am I supposed to miss you like this?"
He reached over to put his arm around you, stroking your hair lovingly. "...Miss me...?" he spoke slowly, almost as if choosing his words with care. "It won't be for too long, pipsqueak, swear."
"But you don't even—"
He clicked his tongue, cutting you off. "I mean, that's partly why we fucked, right? It should keep you busy enough while we wait. Now you have something more accurate to touch yourself to, and, hey—I wouldn't stop you!"
You had indeed come to a similar conclusion, but hearing him say it out loud like that had you looking up with a halfhearted glare.
"...Caleb, you're filthy!" You huffed.
But you both knew well that your words didn't amount to much, and he chuckled, poking your temple.
"Okay, okay. How about... Just to make sure you won't be too sad, we can have another round in the morning?"
"Caleb!"
He smiled. "...I love you, too, pipsqueak."
The warmth of his words, blending in with his familiar, most precious nickname for you, had you easily forgetting whatever trepidations you had in your heart. Maybe, you thought, whatever came with this new door in your relationship was worth it—especially if you could be in his arms the way you were now, listening closely to the lull of his heartbeat.
『 I can't decide if it's a choice getting swept away; I hear the sound of my own voice asking you to stay. 』
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⁺₊ / an: ouh this req prompt couldve gone soooooo many ways and it was so hard to decide!! the word count proves i love him almost as much as xavier, but i also owe it to caleb x mc being so "treacherous" by taylor swift coded, and i will die on this hill!!!!!!
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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581 notes · View notes
sebscore · 8 months
Note
Can you write something with Kimi in his Alfa Romeo seasons and driver!reader? I miss him so much :(
GIDDY GOODBYES 
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pairings: raikkonen family x driver!reader
author's note: is this inspired by that cute antonio and kimi moment in abu dhabi '21? Yes. i miss him too :((
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''You want to swap helmets later?'' Kimi asked her, the sound of screaming and applauding fans surrounding them as they stood on the moving bus. 
Her eyes widened as the question left his lips, surprised that the Alfa Romeo driver would want to do the tradition with her. ''Uh, yeah, sure. I would love to.'' Her slightly open mouth turned into a bright smile. 
''Rianna has been asking for you the entire week so you can see her then as well.'' The Finn grinned. The female driver had been Kimi's daughter's favourite driver since the girl had started attending the F1 races. 
Y/N chuckled at his words. ''I'll bring some merch for her and Ace.'' 
''Really? That's very sweet, they'll like it a lot.'' Kimi appreciated all the time she would spend with his kids, knowing the joy it brought to them. 
''I love spoiling my fans,'' she smiled, ''as long as I get like a cool helmet from you, though! I'm very particular about my collection.'' 
The young woman was known for all the helmets of other drivers she had received over the years. She had proudly shown them off in a livestream after someone asked about the drivers she had swapped helmets with, even admitting she had to buy several extra shelves to store all of them. 
''I was told, I'll do my best.'' Kimi laughed, recalling someone from the Alfa Romeo team telling him about the driver's special collection as soon as he informed them about his desire to swap helmets with her. 
The Iceman didn't disappoint, gifting her one of his more unique helmet designs of the season with a short, but sentimental message written on the side: ''You've proven them wrong. Keep going. Stay smiling.'' His signature penned under it. 
Y/N had written a longer goodbye: ''Thank you for all the great races you have given us. It was an honour to share the track with you these last years. Good luck with your ice cubes, Iceman :)'' 
They mumbled a ''thank you'' towards each other as they handed one another their helmets, reading the messages with soft smiles on their faces. The pair posed for a picture together, their own respective team's photographers and Kimi's wife, Minttu, snapping a photo of them. 
''I'm gonna miss your silence.'' Y/N chuckled, causing others to do so as well. 
''I will miss your loudness.'' Kimi retorted, having everyone laugh even harder at his blunt and witty response. 
The Finn reached out to her with his free arm, initiating a hug with the young woman. She was caught off guard. The man had never offered her an embrace before- their physical interactions only going as far as a fistbump. 
She accepted, wrapping her own free arm briefly around him and resting her hand on his back. Kimi patted her own back a few times. 
The pair pulled back, satisfied smiles on both their faces. The Alfa Romeo driver crouched down next to his daughter. ''We will see her soon, okay?'' He reassured Rianna, who didn't take her eyes off the female driver as she absentmindedly nodded to what her father was saying. 
''You can visit me and we can eat a lot of food together.'' Y/N told the small girl. Rianna smiled brightly at her words, nodding her head. 
''Say bye bye to Y/N.'' Kimi whispered to her. 
Rianna stepped out of her father's arms. ''Bye bye, Y/N.'' The little girl skipped over to her, jumping into the older woman's embrace. ''Bye bye.'' Y/N kissed the side of Rianna's head, touched by the youngest Raikkonen's love. 
As the girls pulled apart, Kimi picked his daughter up- facing his, now, former competitor. ''Have a safe trip home, okay?'' 
Y/N nodded, appreciating his concern. ''You guys too.'' 
Minttu stepped forward, also offering the woman a hug. ''We wish you the best next season. We'll continue to root for you.'' She smiled, stating her support for the female driver. 
''Thank you so much, and have a nice Christmas together.'' Y/N said to her, appreciating that their family would continue rooting for her. She also high-fived a shy looking Robin who clinged to his mother. 
''We'll call, okay?'' Kimi mimicked a phone with his hand, looking at her. She nodded her head, delighted the man wanted to continue having contact with her. 
''We will.'' 
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melzula · 25 days
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Okay I have an request
So like we are azula and zuko sister and we adored by both but like in the catacombs we choose gaang over azula and zuko of this and please can y/n x sokka and now zuko now wants to join gaang and yeah I am not good with words I hope u understand what I said😁
Y/n can be a firebender or non bender its ur choice anyway
a/n: okay so there’s a lot to tackle in this request which is why i chose to do it as headcanons so i hope you don’t mind !
summary: being the middle child isn’t easy, especially when your siblings are Zuko and Azula
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As the only non-bender and middle child of the royal family, you never felt like you mattered
You were the Black Swan of the palace, a disgrace to your father and his image
You kept to yourself, staying in the shadows and out of his way while your siblings took the spotlight
However, just because your father looked down upon you didn’t mean your siblings shared his sentiment
In fact, they adored you
Zuko was an attentive older brother. He let you follow him everywhere, defended you against anyone who dared speak badly about you, and was your shoulder to cry on whenever your father was feeling particularly cruel
He saw you for who you were, and who you were was an intelligent, kind, talented young woman meant to do great things in her lifetime
Azula, while being particularly mean to Zuko at times, never once treated you the way she saw her brother
Despite you being a nonbender, she surprisingly never speaks down to you or makes you feel less than
It could be because she doesn’t see you as competition as she does Zuko, or maybe she truly does just feel genuine sisterly love for you
Maybe it’s because whenever she felt your mother was unfairly favoring your brother over her, you were always there to assure her that she was a wonderful bender and just as important
Maybe it’s because sometimes she wished you could be her mother instead
Whatever her reasoning, Azula sees you as a comforting presence in her life. She seeks your validation constantly almost as much as your father’s, and she’d do anything to protect you and your honor
Things became worse for you when Ursa left. She could no longer intervene when your father felt like tormenting you, and your siblings knew better than to say anything in your defense. Shortly after her banishment, Ozai deems it best to send you away to the academy since he has no other use for you
Your departure is hard for both siblings. Zuko is gutted that he can no longer be there to protect you or look after you. Though she acts as if she couldn’t care less, Azula is devastated at your leaving. Her source of comfort is being ripped away from her, and she has no one to look out for her
At the academy you learn various forms of physical combat and weaponry wielding. You’re especially fond of using tanto swords in battle and they’ve become your weapon of choice when in a fight
Zuko and Azula send you letters during your stay at school behind your father’s back updating you about your home, their lives, and their annoyance of each other. You keep every single one they send, and it eases the ache of your home sickness
It’s also at the school that you learn of the Agni Kai and Zuko’s banishment. Your heart breaks for your older brother, and you’re devastated at the fact that you never got the chance to say goodbye and you may never see him again. He still sends letter for a time, but as the years pass they become less frequent and almost nonexistent. Azula’s letters follow the same path
Years pass and your father deems it time for you to come home. Now that you’ve made a decent fighter out of yourself he finds your worthy of being his daughter again
However, your stay is short lived. Azula recruits you to be part of her little team to capture the Avatar and your brother, and you don’t really have any other choice but to agree
You downplay how skilled you are in fighting so that she doesn’t expect much from you and force you to do too much of the work. You don’t want to go against her, but you also don’t want to have to fight your brother and your uncle
You also don’t exactly feel good about destroying the world’s last hope for peace
And that’s why, when the time comes, you choose the Avatar over your siblings
You’re tired of being pulled back and forth, of always being stuck between your siblings with no real purpose, of not being able to do anything for yourself
Zuko is astonished by your choice and conflicted. Just when he finally had found his way back into the family you chose to leave it. Why were you doing this? Why were you ruining everything?
Azula is furious. Your betrayal hurts worse than mother’s. You’d always taken her side, always comforted her and supported her, you��d always been there, and now you were leaving. How dare you leave her?
“You fool!” She’d cried, angrily sending a blast of blue flames your way knowing you wouldn’t be able to stop it. If not for Iroh, surely her strike would have ended you. The fact that your own sister was willing to hurt you for the cause was enough proof to know you were making the right decision
You help the Avatar escape and join his group, vowing to help them in any way you can to win the war. Your fighting skills and knowledge of the Fire Nation makes you a big help and they appreciate your assistance
It doesn’t take long for you to win their trust and acclimate into their group. You become fast friends with everyone, growing especially close to Sokka who may or may not have a huge crush on you
He definitely becomes your shoulder to lean on when things get tough, because he knows it can’t be easy for you to just leave all you’ve ever known behind. you struggle constantly over having to choose the Avatar over your siblings, but he constantly assures you that you’ve made the right choice
Least to say your departure makes Zuko’s return home even more conflicting and turmoil filled. How can he enjoy being back home when you’re not there to enjoy it with him? How could he be happy knowing his sister was out there risking her life to help the Avatar?
Your decision definitely inspires his own to leave the Fire Nation and aid Aang and his friends
Your abandonment of your siblings also fuels Azula’s descent into madness, fueling her fire to continue her mission to capture the Avatar
It’s a rough position you’ve found yourself in, but it’s not like your whole life hasn’t been you stuck in a terrible spot
Being the middle child is hard, especially when your siblings are Zuko and Azula
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grammmarli · 18 days
Text
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「 THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE 」
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synopsis: the ways that they show their love
— characters: gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, okkotsu yuta, nanami kento
— contents: fluff, a lil bit of angst and comfort in nanami's, gn reader
part two | masterlist
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GOJO SATORU ➽ words of affirmation & gift-giving
This man is rich. Plain as day, there is no doubt about that. There is nothing that Satoru won't do to go to the ends of the earth to get you. The number of times you would receive gifts from this man would have Ieiri, Utahime, and even Mei's eyes widen in horror. And maybe even perhaps jealousy—to see a man so high up his ass so utterly devoted to his partner.
His mornings and afternoons would often be spent teaching his young students at Jujutsu Tech, but it didn't stop him from diving into a whirlwind of activity, all stemming from his blatant infatuation with you. Whenever he had the chance, perhaps luring his students for a "trip" with the promise of going to Roppongi, he inevitably found himself scouring the markets for any trinkets that caught his eye. But who could blame him? After all, they were virtually beckoning him to buy it for you—a delicate necklace, a quaint keychain, or a colorful bouquet of wildflowers. Each item held a piece of his heart, a token of his affection waiting to be shared with you and only you.
Satoru wasn't deterred. Hell, he was hardly even fazed by the indifferent stares or the murmurs of disdain that often followed his well-meaning gestures—mostly by his colleagues, probably thinking he was processed by a cursed spirit, God forbid, but I digress. Love wasn’t just a word to be said but a sentiment to be expressed through actions, however small or grand they may appear. But if that was what Satoru really thought a relationship was, then God may as well have struck him down at that moment. It didn't matter what people thought of him or even what material possessions he bestowed upon you; you're his entire world and don't deserve any less. 
To be able to feel pampered by his kindness and love through gifts. It warmed your heart to know how special you really were to him. Satoru may be rich, but he also knows about the superficial aspects of a relationship and tries to avoid them. But in the end, if that’s what you want, he'll do whatever it takes to make you happy. All he wishes for is your happiness and nothing more. As the strongest sorcerer in the world, Satoru knows he has a lot of power, and he is willing to put that all on the line for you to flourish. The man, to the surprise of no one, had a knack for flirting, effortlessly winning hearts with his smooth talk and irresistible charm. He can even be a flirt at times, for sure, but Satoru despised that label. To him, it's his way of showing that he is all yours. He's a tease who knows how to use his words to woo you—though it can sometimes be a bit much. You know that what he's doing is just trying to cheer you up.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI ➽ acts of service & words of affirmation
From the very beginning of your relationship, moments of vulnerability and intimacy were always scarce and few in between. He would never do or say something that you were uncomfortable with. He respects your boundaries and expects the same in return. Megumi, quietly and reservedly, sometimes has trouble articulating his thoughts. His words often fall short of capturing the depth of his feelings. Yet beneath this rock-solid exterior lies a heart that yearns for your happiness above all else—even his own. His emotions are conveyed not through words but through subtle gestures and actions veiled behind his typical stoic demeanour.
As much as Yuji and Nobara would tease him for it, their jests and blatant remarks were all rooted in good faith. Because in the end, when they would see just the way that he would gaze at you and how he would constantly be attentive to your well-being during missions—contrary to popular belief, not smothering you with overprotectiveness but ensuring that he's always there to support you—they would realize how committed Megumi really was. They understand that Megumi's silence speaks volumes. Gojo, for one, would disagree and instead say he was "utterly and completely smitten" with you, his eyes seeing the world through rose-colored lenses, but if that is the case, then so be it. 
When he extends a hand to help you out, whether it's on a mission to exorcise cursed spirits or simply going through the strains of daily life, it's a gesture that speaks volumes. To you, his short and sincere words were his way of showing that he cared. He is your protector, and he will ensure you know this about him. You don't have to lift a finger; he's already on it. His presence alone makes your cheeks flush pink.
OKKOTSU YUTA ➽ quality time & physical touch
Yuta cherishes the intimacy of being close to his loved one, especially when it's with you. Throughout his life, he's often felt isolated and disconnected from the world around him. Having someone he's genuinely close to fills his heart with a sense of completeness. And to him, you are everything—his entire world.
Quality time, to Yuta, means all the time—whether you both are on a mission, training, or even just together in the classroom, you best believe that Yuta will be following you around like a dog with its owner. But he doesn't do it just because it's expected. He knows his strength and wants to protect you no matter what. And if he can't find you? Without a doubt, Yuta will be deploying all of his nerves and anxiety to the forefront of his very being to see you.
You understand that, after all the trauma that Yuta's been through in his life, that is what makes up his anxieties. The scars of his past linger and still continue to haunt him—those memories of loss and loneliness. It's a burden he carries with him always, and that hurts. But unbeknownst to you, your presence alone healed him far more than any reverse cursed technique could. It would heal physical injuries, but internal ones? That was all you—the solace in his once dark-lit life.
Yuta's love language becomes evident. Not even the most oblivious people could look at the way Yuta looked at you and assume it was anything other than pure adoration. It's in the gentle brush of your hand against his, the comforting warmth of your embrace, and the way you lean in just a little closer when you speak, just to be able to hear him a bit more clearly. His affection is expressed through subtle touches and lingering gazes. He loves you, and you love him—just the way he is.
NANAMI KENTO ➽ quality time & words of affirmation
Straight up, he's one of the more mature men out there. Nanami is stone-cold, but he is painstakingly thorough in his care in practically everything he does. He can be a workaholic at times, for sure, but he knew what would become of him if that was all that he did. Despite his dedication to his work, he always made a conscious effort to prioritize his relationships and to nurture and cherish the time he had with you. He wanted for both you and him to live a proper and healthy life. Whether you were just feeling off about yourself or going through a tough time, Nanami would be right by your side in a matter of seconds to comfort you. 
If he were at work, he would drop everything he was doing, call you directly on his cell phone regardless of the weird looks he was getting from his colleagues, and immediately put on his jacket and drive to where you were, only to see you alone in your shared home curled up on the couch, and that made him angry—more than that. But he knew that, above all else, he needed to comfort you, and perhaps, even himself…
No questions would be asked of him, as he would then lift you up in his arms and reassure you that you didn’t have to tell him now but that he was here for you and would always be. He'd then take you somewhere in hopes of taking your mind off whatever was haunting your thoughts because, in his mind, you didn't deserve that burden while he could help. Even just his words alone would soothe your troubled mind. Every action and gesture he made to guarantee your well-being demonstrated his undying dedication to you. And if those words weren't enough, Nanami would drop everything and show his love through quality time spent together. Whether it was a quiet evening at home or a leisurely stroll through the city streets, he cherished every moment shared in your company. 
You cherished having him by your side, and you wouldn't have it any other way. And it didn't matter to him if you were feeling down or struggling with something, down to the littlest thing. And it didn't matter to him if you thought it was troublesome to tell him.
Because he always knew what to say.
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©grammmarli. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.
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m0llygunn · 6 months
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i wish i had met you earlier (eddie munson x reader)
cw: depressing pillow talk and comfort idk, reader was sad and lonely an: a nod to the only boy ive ever loved who coincidentally became the only man ive ever loved. we grew up together and i still wish i had met him earlier. wc: 1k
“I wish I had met you earlier,” you whisper.
“Earlier?” he smiles, nose scrunching at the silliness, not knowing the depth of your sentiment. 
“Yeah,” you smile back. It’s hard not to do— to smile, when his eyes are so soft, and his lips are that plump, just kissed colour, and your body still hums from the evening behind you. His lashes flutter the slightest bit, blinking away your flattery with a bashful roll of his eyes. 
“You’d be sick of me already if we met earlier,” he lightly huffs, cheek squishing further into the softness of your shared pillow, crooking his smile. 
If the lights were on, you’re sure you’d see a flush suffuse across his face. It would highlight the curvature of his cheeks that accompany his boyish simper, and it would emphasize the winsome rounded tip of his nose. When he blushes like that, your heart always adds an extra beat into its rhythm, one that lives for him. You can picture it so clearly, your heart flutters all the same— that’s not the point of this though. 
“I wouldn't be sick of you,” you promise.
“No?”
“I'll never get sick of you.” 
Tactile as always, he draws his affection over your features, trusting his touch to communicate what he feels. His fingertips dance over your cheek bone, daring to grace close enough to your eye to feel the very tips of each silken lash, flittering with every reflexive blink. He feels the fan, every feathery gust of air, and it affects him in magnitudinous ways— feeling any part of you is like that, a full-hearted reminder that you are here. You are here and you are his. 
His palm settles to your cheek, fingers curving just below your ear, cradling the edge of your face. His own version of a promise, he shares his warmth and oath-taken heart through his touch.
“When would you have wanted to meet?” he asks curiously, blinking his own thick lashes at you as his gaze meets yours. 
“Just before high school.”
He smiles widely, “you answered that quickly,” he says, thumb tracing once over the hill of your cheek and back down.
“I’ve thought about it a lot,” you smile back. You lean into his touch and he draws his thumb across again. You close your eyes for a moment and he does it another time. 
“Why?” 
The softness inside you hardens momentarily at the question. Swallowing thickly, you also know the answer, but it doesn’t come out as quickly. It gets stuck to the roof of your mouth, stuck to the tip of your tongue. His eyes encourage your honesty, and on the sole notion of knowing him and knowing his heart, you trust him with this part of you.
“Maybe if I met you then, I wouldn’t have been so lonely.”
His thumb glides across your cheek and you watch as his eyes give way to his realization that it wasn’t a light hearted question for you. It wasn’t just pillow talk like it was supposed to be.
“Maybe if I met you then, I wouldn’t have been so sad,” you continue, trying to smile.
“You were sad?” His brows turn up, worry lines settling in. It’s a sorrowful look he gives you, not pity, but a softness, a grief, a regret. 
For a split moment, you think that maybe you should lie— make it all go away. Maybe you should lie, but you couldn’t, not with him. Not when his hand is so graciously connected to you, and the warmth of his bare chest radiates into yours, and your shared pillow smells like your shared shampoo, and the sheets smell like the laundry soap you picked out together, with hints of your lotion and his body wash scattered throughout like every kiss you’ve ever shared here. Maybe you should lie, but you couldn’t— especially not when you love him and he loves you. 
“I was so sad, Eddie.” 
You muster a smile, but it betrays you, trembling just under your lower lip. The corners of your mouth remain pointed high, but it’s not a smile, not with the way your lips purse tightly, holding back what your eyes cannot. Your lash line fills, but less than a few side fallen tears survive the heavy blinks that draw them back inwards.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, thumb tracing under your eye this time. He pulls you forward with the lightest touch, a gentle encouragement, and a purposeful reminder that he’s here. He's here and he’s yours. 
One day you’d like to explain it all, but it’s a hard feeling to understand. You’re not sure if it’s wholly a feeling to begin with— it’s more like a ghost. A haunting of all the feelings that used to exist. It washes over you in fast moving gray clouds, settling into your chest like heavy smoke in your lungs, lingering only long enough to remind you of how it was. Just enough to make you sputter, but not enough to hold the bleak weight of it all once again.
Breath coming out heaving and choked, Eddie’s palm glides to the back of your neck. His thumb presses soothingly into the tensed and taut muscles, and as soft as air he breathes a whispered apology against your lips— a simple ‘sorry,’ but it translates to so much more when he holds you like he does. 
Sorry for bringing it up. 
Sorry for the ghosts in your lungs. 
Sorry for the years of you that died all alone with nobody to mourn them. 
Sorry that no matter how many flowers you bring to their grave, they still come back, just like this, to haunt you.
Sorry— breathed against your lips and into your lungs, filling you with the gift of a life with him in it. 
“It’s not your fault,” you answer.
“I know,” he replies.
“I’m still glad I met you when I did,” you say. 
He looks into your eyes, steady gaze sincere with a tender adornment. Entirely loving, but his usually gladness is hindered by the gravity of the moment. He moves in closer to you again, lips just barely brushing yours as he speaks. 
“I wish I had met you earlier,” he whispers.
———
ty! <3
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arcielee · 2 months
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sinful
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Summary: Lucifer shows you what Adam is lacking. Paring: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: 18+, Reader AFAB, sexual discomfort hinted, sexual inexperience, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, cunnilingus from the leader of all demons, and also Bible verses being used to create sexual tension?? Author's Note: Well, I have fallen headfirst into the Hellaverse and needed to get this smut out of my system. Bible verses being used are 1 Corinthians 9-10 & Galatians 5:17. This was inspired by the artwork created by cluffy_25 from IG & TikTok. Maybe now I can finally get some sleep. I hope you enjoy! 😭
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On that fateful day of your creation, there was a palpable shift in paradise from the jealousy that was sown into the earth. 
Lucifer was first in the shadows, just another specter amongst the watchful wonderment as the rib pulled from Adam was crafted, flesh intricately woven; the sight of you was a holy splendor, surpassing every and any expectation imagined. When it was proclaimed that your image was the likeness of Yahweh, he had scoffed, ignoring the chorus of angels recoiling; the truth–which he spoke out loud–was that your beauty was a novel artistry all its own. 
He continued that nothing, that no one, could even compare to you. 
It did not help that the praises above echoed this sentiment and further seeded a growing resentment, its envious tendrils wrapping and rotting Eden from within. With it, your novelty was peeled away, but Lucifer remained enraptured with your ethereal grace, with your careful consideration you showed to all living things as you learned your surroundings. 
He also saw the covetous gaze cast from the angels and how they poorly masked it with a cold reserve that was met with your every interaction. 
Lucifer saw how it began to chip away at the kindness you gave freely. He burned when he saw the hurt that touched your lovely features, he fumed at the sound of your disheartened sigh of acceptance that this was all you could expect from this life given. 
Your isolation called to his loneliness, and with Lucifer, you found a kindred spirit. You were grateful with how he returned your genuineness, even finding a sense of comfort, of validation, at the tip of his brazen tongue that did not fear consequence. With him, you found your thoughts could be shared, the ones you carefully clutched to your chest, and would not be met with any judgment–your shy whispers on your divine purpose that came knitted with your existence and the gilded cage that it created. 
Though he seemed an empathetic creature, always kind to you, you were also aware of the stories and his lore. You caught a glimpse one day when you let slip the chore required of you to lay with Adam, a duty you tried to complete quickly and quietly when he demanded. 
The air around you thickened, and you saw the demon that thrummed beneath the surface: the flash of red in his eyes, the heat from the flame on his furrowed brow. Something powerful, something dire that came and went with your heartbeat. 
This was an intimate subject that Lucifer always precariously balanced on the precipice of, always alluring to something unknown by you. He hinted at the shrine you possessed, giving you just a taste of something sinful, of something more that was within your reach. He spoke of pleasure that could be found, but when you mentioned this to Adam, he only sneered. 
For man did not come from woman, but woman from man; neither was man created for woman, but woman for man.
“But do you ever wish for more?”
It was another day in the garden. Adam had been swept away by the angels who remained in awe of the First Man, but this never bothered you. You welcomed the reprieve, slipping away to return to the natural arbor by the river weaving through the oasis. 
Here the branches curled overhead, light streaking through and the leaves blanketing the ground. Your legs were stretched to feel the sun that fell through, allowing Lucifer to lay his head on your plush thighs. His eyes were watching you, waiting for your response to his question. 
Your lips pursed. “I already have all that I could ever need.” You were careful with your words, your fingers moving to comb through his golden hair.
He hummed with your touch. “I did not say need,” his eyes were still trained to you, an upwards curl to his lips. “I asked if you wished for something more, for something else.” 
“What else could I possibly want?” Your brow quirked. It was part question, part curiosity. The fallen angel seemed to speak in riddles. 
His eyes glittered. “Free will.” 
“But I have free will.”
“Free will allows you choices all your own,” he argued, still smiling. “Would you have chosen Adam if you had not been given to him?”
Lucifer grinned as he watched his words catch in your throat. It was another intrusive thought he always seemed to uncover, pulling to the surface. Your blood stained the apples of your cheeks and your tongue wet your lips. 
“Adam,” you began, pulling your hands away and placing them at your sides, “was created in the likeness of God.” This was the repeated mantra sung from the heavens, words you spoke now without any conviction. “To not choose him would be to not choose the one true…” 
But it faded to obscurity once you became aware of his close proximity; he pulled himself upright before facing you, leaning in with his intensive gaze. “Adam is not God, but only a man.” His voice was low, fanning against your cheeks, and your skin flushed hotly with his words.
This was not the first time he reminded you that Adam was just a man, merely created from the dust of the earth. You never defended whenever Lucifer spoke of Adam’s failures, his certainty that Adam did not give this pleasure you deserved.
It was a topic that piqued your interest, but you felt too bashful to continue it before. But now…
“Free will should allow you the option to choose for more,” his honeyed tone continued. “Should you not experience all that this life has to offer?” 
For a moment, you could only hear the orchestra life created, the rustle of the leaves with the soft breeze and the water that flowed. You had always thought Lucifer was handsome. There was something captivating about him, and right now, you were entranced with the new emotion that now played in the amber glow of his eyes.
Like what, you dared to whisper, eyes wide. 
Lust of the flesh, he replied with an elegant arc to his brow, with an impish curl to his lips.
You felt your skin prickling, something that flitted along the seams of your being before returning to coil in your abdomen. It was something that pulled you to the precarious ledge he seemed perpetually perched on. 
And you kissed him. 
It was gentle and it was quick, though your heart bruised against your ribs with your bold action. You felt the embarrassment flood your features, but when you tried to pull away, his hand caught the back of your neck, his fingers curling into your nape. His mouth captured yours with vigor and your mind splintered from the softness of his lips, from the warmth of his mouth; a sensation that screamed throughout you, craving for more.
Flesh lusts against the spirit…these are contrary, the one to the other.
He stopped the moment you tensed, pulling back and allowing you a breath. Your lips were swollen and flushed, your eyes glassy as they came to focus on the Prince of Darkness. “This does not have to go further unless you wish it to,” his voice soft with his emphasis.
The choice presented like a thick haze that swirled around you, drawing you towards him again. This pleasure promised trilled your veins, and your hands moved to grasp and pull him closer for another clumsy kiss. 
Your body sang from his touch as his fingers skimmed over to grab into your hips, his warmth alighting your every nerve. His mouth moved to your jaw, to the curve of your neck and lower, nipping at your collarbone. You giggled, squirming against him, and his hold moved to cradle your lower back, a guiding press backwards until you were laying on the grass. 
“Trust me,” he whispered against your skin, his hot mouth trailing lower. 
Lucifer nestled between your thighs, his hands never leaving your body so you were aptly aware of his next movements. His head turned to press a kiss on the inside of your knee, following along with licks and nips of his teeth and tongue, plumes of color following his wake. It was a slow pacing, creeping towards your core, feeling how your blood simmered beneath, your body blossoming with his methodical ministrations. 
Your legs widened, welcoming him and his intimate touch. His fingers pressed a v-shape to spread your folds, his exhaling tickling against your cunt, swollen and glossy with your arousal. He moved closer, a tentative touch of his tongue, and you melted against his mouth. He groaned with your taste, briny and begging for more; his hands curled under your thighs, canting your hips to meet with his lips. 
It was a sensation that seared through your veins, a bolt straightening your spine. You gasped again, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair to ground yourself as his forked tongue moved with precision and with purpose. 
He was mindful of your every sound, your bated breath and your sweet sighs, the mewling noises that spilled like nectar from your lips. He pulled you towards a plateau of pleasure that resonated throughout your core, rattling your bones beneath. 
You felt him swell against you, burning between, and your thighs clenched around him. Your chin pressed down to see him, truly for the first time: his horns curling up from his blond hair, the blood-red glow of his eyes pooling onto your skin. 
Your mouth fell open, shock and pleasure twisting from your lungs. 
Lucifer lifted his head, meeting with your teary gaze, his sharp smile gleaming from your slick. “You may grab onto them, if you need to.” His voice was low, husky. 
Your hands trembled to touch and their smooth texture was warm against your palms. You reverberated with his low chuckle as he dipped his head back to the apex of your thighs, his vitality unleashed. He feasted on your essence, and your hands gripped the base of his horns as his forked tongue carved into your sensitive flesh, a pulsing pleasure that poured hotly in your core. You cried out with the prod at your entrance, and he pressed a quick kiss to soothe as his finger curled within you. 
“You are doing so well for me,” he crooned as his finger searched, brushing against a spot that brightened your vision, curling your toes. He hummed again, and you felt his satisfaction curling on his lips. “Can you take another one for me?”
Your back arched with his touch; the tandem of his tongue and fingers thrilled you, the pulsing pleasure coiling so tight it was as if your heart was beating outside your body. It unfurled, a blinding light, a sobbed release, this euphoria wrenching the air from your lungs and your muscles contracting around his digits; and Lucifer continued his come hither motion to your completion. 
You were eventually brought back to your body, feeling a gentle breeze against the sheen of sweat, the grounding weight pressing to the inside of your thigh. You blinked, seeing Lucifer with his head resting against you, his fingers drawing lazy designs on your skin. His wicked grin was splayed, watching through hooded eyes at the slow rise and fall of your chest as you regained your breath. 
You blushed furiously, feeling the dull throb between your thighs, the last remnants of your pleasure he craftily pulled from you. But there was also an ache, a contrast of emotions playing in the haze of your mind: the purpose you were given and this newfound pleasure had. 
These are contrary, the one to the other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would wish.
The blood drained as you pushed to your elbows, a prickling fear that followed the curve of your spine. You stammered, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. “W-what did you say?” 
Lucifer tilted his head, his brow furrowed, confused. “I only said that you were beautiful,” and he pushed up, moving to kiss you, softly, sweetly. “You are beautiful just like this.”
You allowed his kiss to comfort you, rekindling the fire he had found within you, with the sweet taste of your sin on his lips. 
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arcie's masterlist
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hyperactively-me · 7 months
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I saw a similar request, but this idea has been in my mind for a long time. An ally from a neighboring kingdom has arrived with his heir, a prince who is her age. Simon is infuriated by the way the prince looks at his treasure and is clearly jealous, but he doesn't show it. However, later that night, he takes and «claims» her all night, and she doesn't understand what got into him
oopsies my fingers slipped and i'm posting this earlier than i originally planned. got some angst packed in here. and smut! someone's jealous. but also extremely concerned. hope you like! also i made up random characters for this (again) lolz. also last thing, this is lowkey long
warnings: smut, inexperienced!reader
The morning sun spilled through the windows of your shared royal chamber as you and Simon prepared to receive King Victor and Prince Theodore. King Victor was an extremely trusted ally to Kastron, strong bonds between the two kingdoms stemming from decades ago. You donned a gown of regal blue, embroidered with intricate patterns that reflected your wealth and status. The dress flowed gracefully around you, accentuating your figure and emphasizing your beauty.
“Si, can you please tie the back for me?” you question, reaching around to tug at the strings resting on your back. 
Simon turned to face you, securing the cufflinks on his sleeves. “Of course, love,” he murmured, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers deftly moved to secure the ties of your gown, and he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your shoulder. 
As he finished securing the gown, his hands lingered on your shoulders, turning you around to face him, and he met your gaze with a certain intensity. “You look beautiful, as always,” he said, his voice low and husky.
You couldn’t help but smile, a warmth spreading across your face. “Thank you, Si.” You peck his cheek, grabbing his hands in yours. Simon's eyes softened, and he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.
“Are you ready?” he asks, pulling you towards the door.
“Yup, I’m ready,” you sigh, straightening your dress once more before stepping outside. 
The arrival of King Victor and Prince Theodore was imminent, and the royal staff buzzed with anticipation. The bond between Kastron and their kingdom was unbreakable. The visit was meant to strengthen the enduring ties between the two kingdoms. As the grand doors swung open, King Victor and Prince Theodore entered with an air of regal grace. King Victor, with his silver hair and a warm, wise smile, exuded a commanding presence. Prince Theodore, around your age, was a mirror image of his father, possessing a handsomeness that drew attention.
“Ah, Simon,” Victor spoke, approaching him with a smile. 
“Victor, very nice to see you again,” Simon replies, shaking Victor’s hand with a firm grip. 
“Of course you remember my son, Theodore?” Victor says, pulling Theodore into his side. 
“It’s been a while, but yes, I vaguely remember,” Simon replies, giving Theodore a firm handshake as well. 
“You are going to introduce us to your new queen, right?” Victor quips, clapping Simon on the back with a friendly chuckle. 
“Of course, Victor,” Simon smiles, placing his hand on the small of your back. With a slight nudge of his hand, he pushes you forward in front of Victor and Theodore. “Allow me to introduce you to my wife, the queen.”
You offer a polite curtsy, your regal grace on full display. “Your majesty,” you greet, smiling warmly at Victor. You extend your hand to him, and he accepts it with a warm smile.
“My queen, how lovely it is to finally meet you,” he smiles. He reminds you of your father, warm yet commanding. “I’ve heard of your marriage to good ol’ Simon here. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to attend the wedding. But now that I’m here, it is safe for me to say that Simon is lucky to have you.” 
You smile at Victor, his well wishes flattering you. “I truly appreciate the sentiment, your majesty.”
You turn to face Prince Theodore. “Your highness,” you greet, extending your hand out to him. Theodore grabs your hand lightly, bowing before you. 
“Your majesty, how flattered I am to bask in your presence,” he says, his voice buttery smooth. 
His gaze is anything but subtle. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Prince Theodore—”
“Please, call me Theo.”
His concern caught you off guard. “Oh, yes, of course, I apologize—”
“No need to apologize,” he murmurs, holding onto your hand longer than he has to. You maintain your composure, withdrawing your hand gracefully from his grasp. You don’t notice the way Simon straightens his back a little, a subtle tension settling in his posture, like a coiled spring. 
“Come, now,” Victor sighs, wrapping an arm around Simon’s shoulder. “How about we start these dreaded talks?” he jokes, laughing jovially as he pulls Simon towards the meeting room. 
You turn to follow them, but not before Theodore offers you his arm. You take it with a smile, following behind Victor and Simon. The presence of Prince Theodore's arm linked with yours added a weight to your steps as you followed the others into the meeting room. Unbeknownst to you, his demeanor made it clear that he had little intention of keeping things strictly formal.
Once the doors are shut, Simon turns to you, jaw clenching as he sees you arm in arm with Theodore. Immediately, Simon is striding over to your seat, next to his of course. He pulls it out for you, motioning for you to sit down. 
“Thank you, Simon,” you smile at him, settling down in your seat. Simon turns to glare at Theodore for a split second before taking his seat next to you. 
Once inside, the discussions began. You, Victor, and Simon delved into matters of trade and alliances, and Prince Theodore was left with more observing. You and Simon had discussed what would happen in this meeting in the days leading up. This would be your first official involvement in Kastron’s affairs with an ally. You would offer as much aide as you could, utilizing your knowledge from your lessons with your advisors.
As the meeting began, you inserted yourself into the talks confidently, trying your best to be as diplomatic and professional as possible. When you were about to speak again, Theodore interrupted you.
Theodore raised an eyebrow, his eyes locking onto yours, then flitting to Simon. “Forgive me, but I can't help but be curious about something,” he said, his tone light yet probing. Theodore addresses you by your first name, taking you slightly aback. No one refers to you by just your first name other than Simon and your family. You don’t notice the way Simon narrows his eyes in annoyance at Theodore. 
“Your confidence is truly a sight to see,” Theodore compliments, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “It’s honestly impressive to see, especially only becoming queen of Kastron a couple of months ago.”
You smile appreciatively at him. “Oh, thank you,” you gush, “I’ve been doing lessons for the majority of my time here, but I’ve really fallen in love with Kastron.”
Simon knocks his knee into yours under the table, his leg resting right against yours.
Theodore leans back in his chair, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Prosperity and alliances aside, I can't help but be curious about the person you are behind the title. I'm sure there's more to you than just diplomacy and royal duties.”
“Oh, well, maybe we can talk afterwards?” you suggest, smiling at him politely. “I’m sure we would like to get these talks over as soon as possible.”
Simon’s hand appears under the table, thick fingers tracing your thigh and coming to rest on the slope of your inner thigh. You squirm slightly as his fingers linger on your thigh, but you keep your mouth shut. 
“I would be delighted,” Theodore smiles back at you. 
Theodore’s interjections and conversation directed towards you for the rest of the meeting made Simon feel like he was losing his sanity inch by inch. As the discussions wore on, you didn’t notice the way Simon's jaw clenched intermittently. He maintained a diplomatic facade, but the strain was evident. 
The meeting started wrapping up, all good results for both parties. 
“Well, we would like to thank you for coming, Victor,” Simon says, shaking Victor’s firmly. “I had no doubt in my mind that we wouldn’t be able to come up with an advantageous agreement for the both of us.”
“Always a pleasure, my boy,” Victor smiles enthusiastically, shaking Simon’s hand.
Victor turns to you. “And, my dear, a wonderful job you’ve done here! You have great potential.” 
You smile graciously, extremely pleased that an experienced monarch complimented you. 
“Thank you, Victor, your words mean so much to me.” 
Prince Theodore taps you on the shoulder. Simon immediately tenses beside you, placing a hand on your waist. 
“Do you still want to talk?” Theodore asks with an air of confidence, eyeing Simon for a brief moment. “I could use some advice in terms of meetings like these…you just did such a wonderful job.” 
You turn to Prince Theodore with a polite smile, not noticing the tension that lingers in Simon's expression. “Certainly! I’ll try my best!”
Theodore's gaze lingers on you, his eyes sparkling with a subtle charm. “I was thinking perhaps we could talk somewhere else? I'd love to hear more about Kastron from your perspective.”
Before you can say anything, Simon is interrupting you, voice stern and gruff. 
“She’s actually feeling quite exhausted.”
“Wha—”
“We must be off, it has been a long day,” Simon continues, squeezing you flush against him. 
Your eyebrows raise slightly in confusion at Simon’s intervention, but you quickly recover, offering a polite smile to Prince Theodore. “I apologize, Prince Theodore, but Simon is right. It has been a long and productive day, and I’m afraid I am feeling a bit fatigued. Perhaps we can continue our conversation another time?” 
Simon, his expression firm, nods in agreement. “Another time, Prince Theodore. We appreciate your understanding.” And with that, Simon practically drags you away and to your chambers, arm still fastened around your waist. 
. . . 
“Simon, what was that back there?”
The moment the door clicks shut, Simon is practically on top of you. 
“Woah— hey, big guy, what’s—”
“Quiet,” he commands, pressing his body up against yours. He’s slotting you against him, grabbing your hips with fervor. 
“Simon—”
And he’s kissing you. Kissing you with an intensity in a way that feels…different. He’s pressing into you so hard that you don’t fully realize when your back hits the wall. 
Simon slots his knee in between your legs, bucking his knee up into you, pressing into your clothed clit just right. You gasp into his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. Simon groans at your reaction, the way your hands feel against him is heavenly. But his shirt is in the way. And his pants. In one fluid movement, Simon shucks his shirt off and presses himself back on you. 
“Simon, what’s gotten into you—?”
“Saw the way he was looking at you—”
“Wha– who?”
“Theodore.”
“What?” you stop moving. “What are you talking about?” 
You push your hands against his bare chest, trying to push him off you. “What are you talking about?” He moves back, removing his knee from in between your legs. 
“He was trying to get in your pants,” he says bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest. 
Your face heats up at his accusation, “Simon, he was not—”
“He wouldn’t stop talking to you.”
“He was just interested in political advice! Yeah, he was a bit immature during the meeting, interrupting me, but that was it,” you exclaim. 
“No, no he wasn’t—” Simon pinches the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut.
“How do you know?” you question, raising your eyebrows at him. 
“I’m a man. I just know.”
“Really? Simon, I–”
He interrupts you.
“I cannot have a repeat of Valerian.” 
You’re silent, and suddenly you feel small under his gaze. His eyes search yours, emotion coursing through him. 
“Valerian was truly dangerous. They are not the same—”
“I don’t like taking that chance with you,” Simon presses, returning his hands back on your hips. His grip returns you back against the wall. You look at him, mouth parted slightly. You lick your lips and nod with understanding.
“I can’t stand Theodore, the prying little prick.” 
You rub Simon’s arms in soothing motions, up and down. You know where this is coming from. He’s just scared. 
“I know,” you whisper quietly. 
“We’re going back to daily self defense training,” Simon adds on, breathing hard into your ear. “And ‘m gonna assign a personal guard to you.”
You get goosebumps from his breath against your skin. You nod slowly, chewing your lip.
“Okay.”
“I should’ve done all of this sooner, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m a bad husband—” 
“No, no you’re not, Si,” you whisper, pulling him against you. You rest your cheek against his bare chest, his skin hot against your face. “You’re not.”
You take his face in your hands and pull him down for a gentle kiss. He lets out a breath as your lips meet his, and he’s leaning against you again, making you take his body weight against the wall. His hands reach around your back, pulling at the strings on your dress with his meaty fingers. You reach around your back to help him, yanking at the strings and hoping it unravels. With a satisfied grunt, Simon yanks the knot free, letting the dress slip from your shoulders. 
He kisses you again, hands pulling the dress of your form. Simon pulls you into his arms, his chest pressed against yours as if trying to consume you whole, his hand shooting out to brace against the wall as he walks you back into it once more, moving his knee back in between your pillowy thighs. You gasp into his mouth as his knee comes back into contact with your core, beckoning you to slide against him. 
“Oh—” you whisper, your head falling back against the wall as he rocks his knee against you. 
He kisses his way down your throat, nipping at the skin before sucking a hickey on your flesh. You gasp, trying to push him off. It’s too late, and he’s looking at you with a certain glint in his eyes.
“Si, people are going to see that—” “Let them,” is all he says, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lip. “You’re mine. Only mine.” 
You feel his cock press into your thighs. You stutter as desire pools between your legs. He starts rocking his knee against you harder, making you swallow your words as a moan threatens to escape your throat. You involuntarily grind against his thigh, eliciting a small chuckle from him. His hands move to your hips, pushing you down more firmly onto his thigh, a soft gasp falling past your lips.
“Thas’ it, love,” he encourages, grabbing your hips firmly, pushing you against his thigh. You gasp louder this time as your clothed cunt makes contact with him. 
He revels in your reaction, loves hearing your sounds. You bite your lip, unaccustomed to the way you felt against his leg. Your shyness only spurs him on, pulling your hips forward, dragging you against his covered thigh once more. 
“Si,” you garble, clutching onto his shoulders, your wetness pooling in your panties. You let your head fall in front of his chest as he pulls and pushes at your hips. You pant softly, "Fuck, Si," curling your fingers into his skin deliciously. 
“Feel good, dove?” He drawls, lost in your pleasure. He watches you nod slowly. “I’m the only one who will make you feel this good.” 
You grab his shoulder tightly as he speaks, your wetness surely soaking through your panties now. 
“F- feels so good,” you murmur with a shaky breath, groaning lightly at the way he nudges you on his thigh, the feeling of fabric rubbing against your clit making your legs tremble slightly. 
Simon slides his fingers up into your panties, sliding his fingers through your slick and pressing at your clit before pulling them back out. You shiver from the loss of contact, a glossy look washing over your eyes as you watch Simon bring his now dripping fingers up to his face. 
“So wet,” he notes, wiggling his fingers in front of your face. “S’ wet all for me.” 
You nod your head quickly, becoming lost in your own pleasure, moving your hips faster. “Only for you.”
Simon watches you intently, bringing his slick-covered fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean as you watch him. He groans at the taste of you, bucking his knee up into you, making you moan. “Taste s’ good f’me,” he mumbles around his fingers, licking every last drop. 
You look up at him, mouth agape. “I– I think,” you mumble, grasping onto his shoulders with a death grip. Your knees start to shake, the coil in your stomach threatening to unravel. 
“Let go, love,” Simon encourages you, rutting you harshly against his thigh. 
You feel the coil in your stomach snap, moaning as you arch your back, hips rutting forward. You dig your nails into his shoulders, pressing your forehead up against his chest as you roll through your climax. 
“Thas’ it, darling, so good all f’me,” Simon says huskily eyes darkening as he removes his leg from in between your thighs. Immediately Simon is pulling you over to the bed, laying you down gently. He was planning on being anything but. 
Your mind is hazy as he climbs on top of you, your climax dripping through your now completely soaked panties. Simon lowers his head down, presses his nose into your clothed cunt, the top of his nose pressing into your clit. You gasp again, hands finding purchase in the bedsheets. 
Simon grabs the edge of your panties with his teeth, then pulls, ripping them off your body. You shriek, heat creeping up your face, “Si- Simon! Those were one of my favorites—”
“I’ll get you another,” he coos at you, licking your slick off your folds. Then he dove in. You let out a deep seated moan as he pressed his tongue through your folds, humming and groaning at your taste. He digs his fingers into your thighs, groaning louder as he tastes more of you. He’s so vocal with the pleasure he derives from you, always so eager to please you.
“‘M the only one,” he hums into your cunt, “who’ll taste you like this.” 
You’re so wet it’s dripping down his chin, his nose, his lips. You nearly sob as he presses impossibly farther into you, squeezing his head around your thighs. Your hips buck off the bed as his tongue presses inside you, grinding down on him as his nose hits your clit. He groans as you spasm around his tongue, grasping your hips in a bruising grip. He moves back up to your clit, pressing his tongue against your bud, swirling around your bundle of nerves. Tears prick your eyes, the stimulation bringing you close to the edge again. 
“Simon,” you cry out, pawing at him. He ignores you, relishing in the way your back is arching off the bed. He’s bringing you to the edge, again, and the moment his eyes flit up to meet yours, you cum. Your eyes roll back, the coil within you letting loose once more. Simon moans as his tongue laps up your release eagerly. 
With lightning speed, Simon is crawling back up your body and kisses you, long and deep, shoving your slick inside your mouth for you to taste.
“Taste s’good, baby,” he praises, squeezing your hips as he kisses you. He shudders as your nails scratch down his back gently, grazing his shoulders with an unexpected gentleness. 
Simon leans down to your collarbone, pressing hickies into your skin, much to your dismay (you loved it). You could care less that there’ll be visible marks all over your body by the time he’s done. He goes farther, sucking hickies at the tops of your breasts, pulling you against him as he does so. His breath hitches everytime he hears you moan, his hard cock aching in the confines of his pants, your sounds only pushing him farther and farther.
“Please, please” you moan, tugging at his hair, “take your pants off.” 
“Because you asked so sweetly, pretty girl,” he whispers, fumbling with his pants as he practically rips them off his legs. His cock springs free, angry and ready. 
“Please,” you murmur, eyeing his cock. Your fingers brush over it, and he lets out a hiss. Simon grabs your wrist, forcing your hand to close around his member. He drags your hand up and down his cock, once, twice, before he’s twitching. He needs to be inside of you. Now. 
He reaches down to spread your folds for him, then pushes just the tip inside your walls. You groan at the stretch, clawing his back as the meaty tip pries you open. 
“So good–” you moan as he continues to slide inside of you, the stretch making you wince in pain and pleasure. 
“Almost there, lovie, such a good girl,” he praises, keening at the way your nails scratch his back. He lets out a strangled breath as he bottoms out inside of you, letting his forehead rest against yours to catch his breath. 
You whimper as he just sits there, his strong arms clutching your back as he lifts your back off the bed. As he lifts you up, he hooks your legs around his hips tightly. He grabs your back with his strong arms, pulling you up from your previous position on the bed. 
Suddenly, he’s pulling his cock almost all the way before slamming back into you with no remorse. You moan loudly, eyes rolling back as he bounces you on his cock, hard. 
“‘M the only one that’ll fuck you like you deserve,” he groans into your neck, dragging you up and down his cock like its his day job. You whimper and drag your nails down his back, your nails scratching his skin so perfectly, red marks appearing along his rippling muscles. 
He moves faster, pumping into you hard. He’s never been this rough with you before. 
“You’re mine, only mine,” Simon strains. “Say it.” 
“‘M yours, Si,” you babble, grasping onto him. “I’m o-only yours.” You moan as your hands find purchase in the firmness of his back, shoving your head against his neck to leave him open mouthed kisses. 
The words he so urgently craved from you slipped from your lips, prompting a growl to escape from his own.
“Good girl,” he grunts, voice gruff and husky, overridden with lust and the way your legs felt around his hips. “My good girl.”
He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, clutching the back of your head to press his tongue into your mouth deeply. Your eyes fall shut, the pleasure overbearing as he moves his hand from the back of your head to your throbbing clit. Your back arches into him, moaning loudly as he massages your swollen bundle of nerves. 
You clench around his length, breathing ragged, you’re so close. “You’re mine,” Simon drawls, thrusting into you harder, deeper. “I- I’ll fuckin’ kill anyone who touches–” he stutters, speech cut off as you kiss him. You don’t want him to finish that sentence, but you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t sing as he spoke. 
The ever so familiar coil building up in your abdomen breaches your senses, your muscles tightening. Your mind is foggy as he continues pounding into you, playing with your clit, pushing you farther. 
“Takin’ me so well, darling girl.” 
“‘M gonna cum,” you cry out, his fingers on your clit pushing you over the edge. 
“I know, I know,” he grunts, his voice strained from his own impending release. “Cum for me, baby.” 
You whimper as you cum, nails digging into Simon’s back as your senses go into overdrive. 
“G- good girl,” Simon strains, his speed increasing at you coming on his cock. His breathing grows erratic as he slams his hips against yours, hands gripping at your back. “My beautiful girl.” 
Simon slides his hands from your back, letting you fall back on the mattress as he pushes himself into you. 
“I’m yours, Si, always yours,” you whisper, grabbing at his wrist on your hip. “Forever yours.”
You lock eyes with him. 
“You’re mine,” you lick your lips, eyes meeting his. “You’re all mine, Simon.”
He moans at those words alone, closing his eyes as he rolls his hips before releasing inside of you. He drops on top of you, flipping you over so you’re laying on top of his chest. You press your chin against his chest, his racing heartbeat pounding against your skin. 
“Fuck, dove.” He finally opens his eyes, looking right at you. He looks like he’s in utter shock. “Fuck.” 
He doesn’t pull out quite yet, letting his softening cock rest inside you. 
“Hmm?”
“Say that again.”
You shift under his gaze, his eyes practically boring holes in your skin. 
“You’re mine, Simon.” 
He shudders, hands running up your body to rest on your ass. He gives you a firm squeeze. 
He looks at you, a smile tugging on his lips. 
“Damn right.”
- - - - -
(masterlist)
710 notes · View notes
lokischocolatefountain · 11 months
Text
Sundress
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader
Rating: 18+ (Fluff, slight smut, no angst for once, slutshaming but not how you think)
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She laughed freely at something his cousin said, all her nervousness from their journey to Texas leaving her little by little when his family embraced her as one of their own within minutes of meeting her. Oh and the alcohol helped too. He took her hand and played with her fingers as he sipped on his beer, smiling as he felt himself relax in the presence of the people who knew him the best.
It was unbelievable really, being back in Laredo not as the former sheriff who ran out on his bride but as a federal agent with a beautiful woman on his arm wearing his ring. She was here in a pretty sundress, sitting on the sofa in his home, laughing with his cousins as they shared embarrassing stories about him. Pops loved her, just as he expected and he just knew that if Ma was alive, she would love her too.
It could’ve just been his beer-addled mind, but he was so happy with her right there, right then that he would quit his job and just keep her right there in Laredo. He never liked the damn place, always wanted to break free and run off to explore the big bad world. But he also saw the appeal of a small town as he stared into the old picture of his parents on their wedding day. He wanted love like that. And he had it. He wanted to take care of the ranch with her, work where he lived so that he could slip into the house whenever he wanted to kiss her senseless. He wanted to wake up in the morning without worrying about going elsewhere for work and just bury himself in her warmth, make sweet love to her, have the big family he’s always secretly wanted.
“Why can’t I have a baby brother?” He recalled asking his parents, wishing to have a playmate at home. They’d tried. For many many years, they’d tried. But he didn’t know that. “It’s because you’re a naughty boy and I don’t have time for more naughty ones.” Ma said, pinching his cheeks before getting back to work with the newborn foal.
All his cousins had siblings and though he was close enough to them to not long for more kids his age to play with, he was jealous of them and angry at his parents. So he told himself all those years ago that when he was old enough, he would give his son a lot of little siblings to play with. It was stupid and childish really, but the sentiment hadn’t worn off over the years. He would like a big family someday. When they were away from all the dangers his job brought them.
Family and friends flitted out one by one, making Javier grateful that he didn’t have to kick them out to take his fiancé to bed. He loved his family and all but he had been around her for hours without being able to touch her inappropriately and that was getting to him. Kicking his family out to fuck his girl wouldn’t have been nice. And it wouldn’t have done well for his ‘Javi who left his fiancé at the altar’ reputation.
“I really like them,” she giggled as she cuddled into him on the sofa. He pressed a kiss to her lips and pulled back to find her smiling wide. He smiled back, unable to resist the infectious effects of her smile.
“Good. And they like you too. Especially pops.”
“Wooo!” She pumped her fist in the air, making him laugh. “‘S nice to have my future father-in-law’s approval.”
“Yeah well, let’s not rub it in my face,” he grumbled, recalling how unimpressed her father was with him. But he couldn’t fault the man. If his daughter came home with a guy who got shot at everyday for a living, he would be more than just unimpressed.
“Aww, Pobrecito,” she cooed before pressing wet kisses to his cheek. “He’ll come around. He’s just annoyed that you would be such a slut and have sex with his daughter under his roof before marrying her.”
“And whose fault is that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. She’d teased him all day, fucking grabbed him beneath the dinner table while carrying on conversation about work with her family.
“Whose fault?” She asked, making her eyes all soft and sweet just like the night she sneaked into the guest bedroom of her family home and begged him to fuck her. How was a man supposed to resist those sweet eyes and their filthy requests that contradicted their innocent act?
“Yours.”
“Mhmm?”
“Mhmm.”
“Okay then,” she said, smiling sweetly. Nothing good came out of that innocent act. “I’ll be a good girl tonight. I’ll take my bag to the guest bedroom. Sleep there for our entire week here.”
He rolled his eyes at her and snatched her bottle of beer before emptying the contents in one gulp. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easy.
“Rude!”
“Better rude than cruel, you absolute demon of a woman.”
“Cruel!? How dare you! I’ve been on my best behavior all day. I made your family fall in love with me faster than you made my family tolerate you. Miguel loves me so much that he would marry me if you didn’t. Linda invited me on a shopping trip and José didn’t move from me for hours.”
“José is two,” he said, laughing. Babies loved everyone, right? They were just innocent little creatures who loved everything. Or that was just what he told himself when his base instincts told him to take her to his room and put a baby in her immediately.
It wasn’t his fault. It was the goddamn sundress making her look all sweet and homely and just like something he’d want to put a baby in. He was going insane. Just the sight of her fitting in so well with his family and cradling his cousin’s kid while wearing a ring that declared her his was enough for him to stop thinking practically about all the things they needed to get out of the way before having kids.
“So? He loves me. I’m just so dang lovable,” she said, poking his chest with her index finger. “Not my fault that I’m perfect and you’re a big grump my father doesn’t care for.”
“He doesn’t hate me for being a grump. He hates me because he heard his innocent little girl screaming my name at night.”
“Asshole!” She gasped and shoved him away from her, but he returned right back and kissed her on the lips. Before she could call him more names, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, laughing as he felt her grab his ass immediately. Becoming boring was one of the reasons he didn’t want to get married, but with a girl like her who wanted him so openly, there wouldn’t be a boring day in his life.
“You make me fuck you in your family home, I get to have you fuck me in my childhood bedroom,” he said, carrying her to his room.
“Around all the posters of half naked women?”
“You offended, baby?” He asked, slapping her ass. He wasn’t the half naked women plastered all over his walls kind of guy anymore. But it made him feel giddy to think she might be…jealous?
“Nope! Just regretting taking down my John Wayne and Sydney Poitier posters. I had a John Wayne poster where he’s on a horse, wearing a cowboy ha—” she gasped as he dropped her on his bed.
“He was just a fake cowboy, baby. I’m the real deal. Got a ranch and all. I’ll put on the clothes if you want me to. Get on a horse, wear the damn hat. You want that?” He asked, hovering over her as she unbuttoned his shirt.
“I don’t know, Javi…” she tutted, twirling his hair around her finger. “You might look like a clown in it since you gave up the cowboy life to be a slut in Colombia.”
“I gave up the cowboy life to chase Escobar,” he corrected, giving her a pointed look.
“Yeah, but you spend more time being a slut than chasing Escobar.”
He pinched her ass, making her shriek and slap her hand over her mouth. “Javi! Don’t make me scream. I don’t want your dad to think badly of me!”
“Oh that’s one thing I can’t do, baby. Making you scream and making you cream comes naturally to me,” he said, making her gasp in horror. She had no reason to react so dramatically seeing that he’d definitely given her worse lines in the past. But it was fucking cute.
“Slut,” she chided, pushing him away but then pulling him down to her immediately. She gave him a peck on the lips before blessing the rest of his face with her kisses. It had him smiling like a kid, laughing like he used to when he was a permanent resident of this room.
“How many girls you fuck on this bed before me, Peña?” She asked as he shrugged his shirt off and got to work on her sundress. She looked pretty as hell in it, the white cotton with lemons printed on it giving her the look of the chaste woman she was not. But she looked the part in front of his family, hair down and neatly combed, pink on her cheeks and lips, and a pretty dress that made her look the part of a fiancée any group of Tias would approve of.
“You’re the first. The only one,” he said, pushing the elastic off her shoulders and kissing the swell of her breasts. He breathed in her distinct scent mixed with her sweat and took her breast into his mouth. She tasted salty from sweating, but he was not one to be disgusted by that. He came home to her sweaty and disgusting every damn night and she took him anyway. He buried his face between her breasts and took in her scent, groaning as his cock twitched in response.
Images of her with her knees bent by her head, still wearing the damn sundress as he drilled into her cunt filled his brain.
“Riiight. Totally believe that,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“You don’t trust me? You’re the only girl— woman, on this bed.”
“I don’t believe you. I know for a fact that you were a slut in high school.”
“Oh I was,” he agreed, hand diving beneath her skirt. “But I never brought girls back here. I sneaked into their bedrooms and sneaked out when we were done.”
“Of course you did,” she laughed, fucking herself on his fingers. It was sweet, having her in his family home, learning more about him and being delighted in what she found.
“It’d been a fantasy for a while actually, to bring a girl home, sleep with her on my bed. I just hated having to pull my pants up and run out before my girlfriend’s parents caught us and shot me.”
“You absolute menace!” She scolded and shook her head. He wondered if she would’ve given him her time of day had they gone to school together. He was quite the lanky kid with none of the muscles of his current body that she loved so much. He didn’t have much game either, not enough to impress her at least. She was a big city girl and all he knew at fifteen was Laredo and its oppressive walls. The Agent Javier Peña of now had slipped a diamond ring on her finger, but Javi from Laredo would’ve made a fool out of himself trying to get her to just talk to him.
Or not.
Maybe she would’ve liked him back. Maybe stupid boys with the worst pickup lines and too much confidence were her teenage self’s type.
“Would’ve sneaked into your room too,” he teased, bunching her skirt up at her waist before sucking her clit between his lips.
“Javi!” She squealed and not from pleasure. He apologized for hurting her with his desperation and placed a gentle kiss on the nub.
“My dad would’ve killed you for sure,” she said, running her hand over his arm. He flexed his muscles for her benefit and she took his offer, lavishing his arm with attention before moving a hand down his back as far as she could reach.
“Worth it for this pussy.”
He spent the night with his head between her legs, making her cry his name into her hand and then his pillow. In his head, he gave Javi from two decades ago a pat on the back. He’d gotten out of Laredo like he always wished, no matter the circumstance. He landed a pretty girl who wanted to fuck just as much as he did. He had love like his parents. He’d have a wedding he wouldn’t walk out on and someday maybe the grandchild his dad mentioned in passing.
Life was good.
.
.
.
Series Masterlist
1K notes · View notes
the-writer-arrived · 9 months
Text
(Arranged) Married Life with Jing Yuan
Synopsis: you became jing yuan's spouse! but it was through an arranged marriage... how do you and him navigate through your married life?
Character: jing yuan.
Warnings: gender neutral!reader, long post, mix of headcanons and drabble, a sprinkle of angst here and there, there will be a nsfw part but it will have a warning, no mention of reader's genitals.
A/N: finally caught up with hsr main story and this man suddely got me into a chokehold... and now i'm sad i don't have him ):
also, i know there are tons of fics with this prompt with him, but i wanted to make my own version hehe.
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SFW
Early Stages
Due to many reasons, you got into an arranged marriage with Jing Yuan, the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu's Cloud Knights.
You weren't exactly experienced in the field of dating, preferring to focus your attention and interest in the field of your liking.
So, to say you were thrilled to be kind of forced to become someone's spouse is quite far from the truth.
Not that you dislike the general or anything! On the contrary, you have high regard not only for his incredible achievements in the battlefield throughout the many centuries, but also for the fact that he hasn't succumbed to the mara to this day.
What you don't understand is why were you chosen to be the spouse of a man so incredible? In your opinion, you don't have any outstanding qualities or stand out in your workplace and you consider your appearance to be nothing extraordinary for a human of the long-life species...
Well, your opinion is wrong, you beautiful, handsome, pretty, outstanding and amazing person!!!
TLDR: you believe that you are unworthy of being by general Jing Yuan's side, so you decide to keep your distance and naively think that he wouldn't notice nor be bothered by that.
Again, wrong!!!
After the wedding cerimony, which was barely a cerimony at all due to the true nature of the union, Jing Yuan noticed how you always found an excuse to be busy with something and spent the least amount of time with him.
And when you do... You don't act rude or anything, you engage in conversation when he attempts to start one, but he can feel a wall between you two.
Despite the circumstances of your relationship, Jing Yuan truly wishes to get to know you, to become closer to you... However, if you don't share his sentiment, then he shall respect your decision.
You are strolling around the streets of the Exalting Sanctum after basically being kicked out of your workplace for the day, the reason being that "you spend way too much time here, go live your life a little!" (words said by your boss earlier).
What should you do with this unexpected free time...?
You remember it's been some time since you have last seen Jing Yuan (one thing he had asked you to do is to call him by his name, instead of 'general' and you complied, even if you feel a bit awkward), so you decide to head to the Seat of Divine Foresight.
When it comes to the seasoned general, one would rarely find him in his office and, if you do, it'd just be his hologram... So, imagine your surprise when you not only find him there, but also it's Jing Yuan in the flesh!
He dismisses Qingzu, who gives a polite bow to the general and you, and offers you his full attention.
"What a pleasant surprise. What brings you to the Seat of Divine Foresight?" He asks you with a smile.
"I, um..." You're momentarily distracted by his face, but you recover soon, clear your throat and try again. "I was wondering if you were free for a little bit and if you would like to... spend some time with me?"
You mentally curse yourself for making it sound like a question, rather than an invitation. Why is it so hard for you to act normally with him?!
Jing Yuan, either unaware or not bothered by your nervous behavior, answers you.
"Ah, what a great timing you have. I do happen to have the afternoon free today and I'd love to spend it with you..." He lets his words trail off for a second, before adding one more thing. "...But only if that is something you also truly want."
"I got a day off, so I thought I should spend it with you in case you had the time. After all, it's expected for spouses to do that, right?"
The general closes his eyes, humming in thought and your stomach flips in an unpleasant way. You suddenly regret your words.
"I see... The last part is exactly why I had to ask you. I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to, just because it is 'what's expected' of us."
"N-NO!" You cringe at the high volume of your voice, mumbling a small sorry. "I-I mean, it's not that I don't want to! It's just... I..."
Seeing that their conversation is taking a more serious turn, Jing Yuan gently guides you to a more secluded room, where you don't have to be self-conscious about other people hearing what you have to say.
In there, you fumble a bit more with your words, but you decide to be honest about your feelings for the first time. You tell Jing Yuan about the true reason you kept your distance from him, how inadequate you feel to deserve to be called his spouse, your lack of romantic relationship experience, your fear of doing or saying something that might affect his reputation and many other things you've been holding in.
Jing Yuan listens with a heavy heart. On the one hand, he's glad that you don't dislike him, but on the other hand, he feels sad that the true reason for your distance is that you believe you are 'unworthy' of being with him...
The general knows that isn't something that can be changed with just a couple of reassuring words, however he wants you to know that you can confide in him. With that in mind, he also shares the worries he's had this whole time regarding your relationship and how he has been a coward for not reaching out to you earlier to clear up this misunderstanding.
After this much needed heart to heart, you feel tired but oh so lighter now. And when Jing Yuan asks you again if you want to spend the rest of the afternoon with him, you gladly accept it.
Warming Up to Each Other
After that talk, the relationship between you two improved by leaps and bounds.
You were worried that you wouldn't have much to talk about with Jing Yuan, but, once again, you were wrong!
You two spend a lot of time chatting, getting to know each other's likes and dislikes.
Jing Yuan often invites you to his starchess matches with Yanqing. Whether you play with them or just observe, it is very fun to watch the general and his retainer interact.
Both you and the young lieutenant were a bit awkward in the beggining, but you bonded soon enough.
The biggest proof of that is that one time you and Yanqing challanged Jing Yuan to a match of chess, confident that two minds will be enough to defeat him!
Spoiler alert: you both lost :D but there were moments when the general almost made some terrible moves because he was too distracted observing his retainer and his spouse working together with a fond look in his eyes.
At some point, being referred to or having to introduce yourself as Jing Yuan's spouse stopped being a cause of discomfort and became somewhat natural.
(Something he always reminds you is that you are your own person, first and foremost, so when he introduces you to someone, he never defines you as just his spouse).
And Jing Yuan, like a good general that he is, saw that as an opportunity to capture your heart.
This guy I swear... He uses any and every chance to charm you.
I'm sorry but I refuse to use the word 'rizz'.
You may not have much first-hand experience in relationships, but you're not that oblivious to his advances.
Genuine compliments, surprise gifts because 'he thought you'd like them', hands 'accidentaly' bumping frequently during your walks...
Really, he's almost acting like those videos of a male bird trying to impress the female one.
And it's not that you want to reject him! You just feel a bit embarrassed... Until you remember you two are literally MARRIED.
Aeons save this pair of dorks.
The first time you hold Jing Yuan's hand after he kept brushing it against yours, the general doesn't even try to hide the happy smile blooming on his face.
You'd seen him smile many times before, but that particular one will forever be integrated in your mind forever.
As for your first kiss... It happens as an accident.
You are in the Seat of Divine Foresight, sitting next to Jing Yuan while he goes through his endless pile of scrolls, reports and other types of paperwork he has to deal with. He really couldn't put them off anymore, but he also didn't want to completely cancel his plans of seeing you, so here you are...
It isn't what you had expected for the day, but you don't mind all that much. After all, it is a bit amusing to watch the general frowning like a child being forced to sit down and do his homework.
After some time mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you receive a message from your coworker, saying that something urgent came up and asking if you could come early to help.
"Sorry, I have to leave now. Something came up in my workplace and they need my help." You speak quietly to not interrupt too much of Jing Yuan's concentration.
You feel a bit bad for cutting your quality time together like this, so you lean closer to the general's face to give him a peck on his cheek as a farewell kiss.
What you don't expect, however, is for him to turn his face at the last second, probably with the intention to complain about you 'abandoning' him, which is quickly forgotten the moment your lips meet.
It... honestly isn't a nice kiss or a kiss at all. Mostly two pairs of lips mashed together and eyes blown wide in shock (you) and surprise (him). To make this whole thing even more mortifying (to you), you both are brought back to reality at the sound of an embarrassed Yanqing exclaming how 'the Seat of Divine Foresight isn't the place for PDA!!!!'
Daily Life
After you managed to recover from that marvelous and incredibly romantic, not at all cringy, accidental first kiss and gave Jing Yuan the green light... Well, your life has never been the same.
In the good sense of the phrase.
Congratulations, you now have a clingy husband!
Not that Jing Yuan wasn't clingy before, but he's been holding back quite a lot to not cross your boundaries with his touches.
Now that he can, though, good luck living without your personal space!
Whenever you two are out together, your husband always has to have some sort of contact with you: hand on your lower back, holding your hand or your pinky, arm wrapped around your waist if he wants to send a clear message that you're taken.
When you're in private, however, smooth Jing Yuan loses his place to clingy koala or lion? Jing Yuan.
The rare chances when the stars align and you both have a day off, don't expect to get out of bed in the morning and it's not even for nsfw reasons.
That man will trap you in a bear hug and will refuse to let you go... Unless you need to use the bathroom, but expect to be dragged back to bed the second you step out of there.
Jing Yuan will also use any and every opportunity to get a kiss from you: waking up? Kiss. Cooking? Kiss. Going to work? Kiss. Returning home? Kiss. You simply went to another room and came back to him? Kiss.
As much as he loves kisses on the lips, the general melts into a puddle whenever you brush his bangs away from his face, uncovering his other golden eye, to leave a gentle kiss on his forehead.
Another thing that makes Jing Yuan weak is hearing you call him your husband. It may be a bit weird to others, but considering how far you two have come since the awkward start of your relationship, it shows that your marriage feels genuine now.
Much like in any relationship, you two also have your ups and downs.
On the days you are in low spirits, please don't be afraid of saying what you want. Do you want him near? He'll hold you and lend a shoulder to cry on while you pour your heart out. You'd rather be alone? No problem at all, he'll give you space for as long as you wish, but he'll also buy your favorite snacks, a book you mentioned you were interested in, send Mimi your way in case you want to cuddle with the lion.
When Jing Yuan is the one feeling sad, that's when things get a bit tricky, because he'll try to keep it to himself and pretend that everything is fine to not worry you.
You know when Jing Yuan does that little thing of closing his eyes as if he's in pain before smiling? THAT SHIT BREAKS ME MAN.
You have to remind this silly man of yours that he doesn't have to hide his uncertainties and fears from you, since you are his spouse and not a soldier that will lose morale at the sight of the Arbiter-General showing 'weakness'.
Jing Yuan, general of the Cloud Knights for many centuries, had received training to withstand pain on the off-chance of being captured by the enemy forces and possibly tortured in an attempt to extract information about the Xianzhou Alliance. Due to that, any and every secret and relevant information shall never escape from his tightly sealed lips.
...But then, how do you manage to do it?
With a single pull of his shoulder, you have him laid down on your lap, your defty fingers freeing his hair from the red ribbon and untangling the stubborn knots of his white locks...
When Jing Yuan realizes it, it's already too late. Feelings from deep inside his heart are pouring out of his lips before he can stop it. His worries, his fears, the nightmares that plague him, the sadness of reuniting with old friends just to find out they aren't the same as he remembers...
He doesn't understand how you do it.
"I will be by your side in sickness and in health, for the good and the bad. So, please, my love... Don't carry it all by yourself. Don't shield me from your pain, let's face it together. I shall do the same."
That is what you had said to him one time.
Jing Yuan has a high pain tolerance, but all it takes is a single touch, a single word, a single glance from you for his defences to crumble down.
He now understands that your secret technique to make him talk is to show your love.
The content ahead is about sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you continue reading, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel with this. You have been warned.
NSFW
Your Sexual Lives
First of all, I am a firm believer that our Jing Yuan here is a big switch.
There are days when he's the dom and will make you lose the hability to think of anything else aside from him. And there are days when he's the sub, completely at your mercy to have him roll his eyes back in pleasure.
For your first time together, it is more of an exploration and getting to know each other's bodies. Even if you've had sex before in your life, it is always a new experience with a new person.
There isn't much that Jing Yuan isn't down to give it a try in the bedroom. However, he draws the line with things that can cause you serious pain like knifeplay or hardcore BDSM practices, and the more unsanitary kinks.
He isn't against degradation per se, but he can't bring himself to not mix it with a few praises.
Phrases such as "My slut is doing so well, taking my cock all the way in." or "What a pretty little thing you are, darling... Don't even look like your mouth is my favorite cumdump." make you moan so loud it's embarrassing.
When your husband is in a dom mood, he muffles his sounds the best he can by biting down on his lips or burying his handsome face in the crook of your neck, not because he's ashamed of them, no no no. He does that so he can listen to your cries and moans and babbles, while the bullies your hole.
It's just so hot for him to know he can turn you into a mess, speaking nothing but his name and how good it feels and how full you are.
Speaking of full, my man here causes quite the stretch, so thorough preparation and lube are needed for you to have the least amount of pain when being on the receiving end of the penetration.
He may end up making you cum on his fingers alone during prep tho, but you don't consider that a bad thing anyway.
When Jing Yuan is in a sub mood, by the Aeons, one may think he wants all the Xianzhou ships to know how good you're fucking him.
I'm kidding he's not THAT loud, but he doesn't make any effort to be quiet either. You wouldn't want him to anyway.
Gosh his groans are just hhMMMMMM SO DAMN HOT.
Do you see that white mane of hair he has? Give it a good pull, especially when you're taking him from behind, and marvel at the delicious sounds he makes.
Regarding his stamina, it's one or one hundred, there's no in between.
There are days when he can fuck you the whole night long (rip you in the next morning) and there are days when he can only take two rounds at most, before he's snork mimimimi next to you (he's not known as the 'Dozing General' for nothing).
But don't worry, he would never forget about aftercare! Water, a clean towel, snacks and anything else that you mind need or want after sex will be prepared before you guys start.
One of Jing Yuan's favorite ways of waking up is with you slurping on his slowly-hardening cock (all consensual of course, we don't work with non-con in this household!).
You don't know which one has the best POV during this moment: you, with the sight of him a bit dazed from sleep, brows furrowed with cheeks colored pink and hair all messy; or him, seeing you between his legs, licking and stroking his shaft, lips glistening with your own saliva and his pre-cum and pupils blown wide with lust that makes his hips buckle forward as a way to beg you to swallow him whole.
On days he doesn't feel as tired after making love with you, he enjoys taking a bath with you to relax, massaging any parts of your body that may be sore and giving sweet kisses on the hickeys and marks he left on you.
You feel so relexed, so safe, so loved that you can't help resting your eyes while he cleans you up...
The sound of a deep, gentle voice calling for name, along with a caress on your cheek stirs you awake. You blink a few times, your head turning to the source of the voice that is now chuckling. You see a pair of golden eyes staring at you lovingly, but with a hint of amusement too.
"Sorry for interruping your beauty sleep, my love, but you might catch a cold if you fall asleep in the bath."
"I wasn't sleeping. I was just resting my eyes for a bit..." Jing Yuan chuckles again, noticing the way your eyelids struggle to stay open.
Despite his previous words, he doesn't make any effort to keep you awake. Instead, he begins to hum a tune while he continues to wash your body.
You let out a sigh of bliss, leaning your back further on his strong chest. Your senses are engulfed by him: his touches, his warmth, his voice...
You love being surrounded by him, be it like when he was pounding you mercilessly earlier or taking care of you softly like right now.
"Dear?" Your husband shifts his attention to you, stopping his singing to hear what you have to say. You cup his cheek and give him a peck on the corner of his mouth. "I love you."
Jing Yuan's eyes widen in surprise for a second, before they soften with a smile gracing his lips.
"I love you too, my beloved." He gently holds your chin to give a proper kiss on the lips.
You thank the Aeons for allowing you to cross paths with the man before you. All the difficulties and challanges in the beggining were all worth facing, now that they have brought you to this moment.
To love and feel loved like this... You hope to hold onto these feelings for the rest of your life as you walk towards the future with Jing Yuan.
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thanks for reading! likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3
heart divider made by @/cafekitsune
pink jing yuan banner (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)
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jstor · 7 days
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hi jstor, quick question, what do i do with all the regret that's slowly choking me? i'm an academic at heart in a world where i'm no longer in academia, and i'm not thriving one bit 🫠 had to turn down a place in a phd program 2 yrs ago & now it's my biggest regret in life. you've given people such compassionate advice, so maybe you can help? research/writing is my passion & i miss having the space to indulge it & keep learning!
Hi there, thanks for reaching out with such a heartfelt question. It takes a lot to express this sort of sentiment publicly and we appreciate that you trust us enough to ask.
The regret you're feeling is natural, considering so much of your identity and passion lies in your research and writing. Your friendly JSTOR mod has also been struggling with feeling unmoored outside of academia, and I've been wondering myself if I should work my way back somehow or create a structure of my own.
The good news is that you can actually create a structure of your own! Many scholars contribute to their fields independently, so it may be worth considering a personal research project that you can work on at your own pace (which has its advantages). Public libraries often provide access to academic databases like JSTOR, and your alma mater might have resources available to alumni. Communities and forums online are a good way to reach others who are feeling similar and doing similar things.
Your writing also doesn't have to stop! If it's not your only focus it may go quite a bit slower, but many journals accept submissions from independent researchers. In addition, platforms like Medium and Substack may allow you to self-publish some of your work. You could even look into pitching guest posts for relevant publications!
It doesn't have to be a permanent goodbye to academia either. Does your alma mater welcome guest lecturers, or are there any community workshops in your area? These are some ways you could share your passions with others. Plus, academia will always be there–if an opportunity arises for you to return and it aligns with your circumstances, you can.
This is by no means exhaustive, so I do hope that anyone from the community who would like to share insights does so in the replies. Wishing you the best of luck, wherever you may go from here!
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harrysfolklore · 10 months
Text
grammy at wembley - bandmate!yn blurb
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gif by @londonharry <3
BANDMATE!YN MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
Wembley Stadium buzzed with excitement as the crowd eagerly waited for the big night to start. Feather boas, cowboy hats, pride flags and colorful signs were everywhere in sight in typical Love on Tour fashion.
Tonight was one for the history books. Harry was closing out a successful run of 4 sold out nights at Wembley Stadium, and his family, friends, colleagues and all kinds of loved ones came together to support him.
To celebrate said shows, Harry had a lot of surprises in store, including letting each of his bandmates be an opening act for a different show; and even though it took a lot of convincing, his girlfriend agreed to take part for the final night.
"I'm not sure, lovie. I mean people like what I do as your bassist but my own work? I don't know if they would like to hear that." YN said when Harry brought up the proposal.
"They would, because you're insanely talented and everyone deserves to see it."
And with a few more kisses and sweet words, YN accepted to perform and delivered an impeccable set that was loved by everyone in the stadium, specially Harry who greeted her as soon as she was off the stage and held her as he said how proud he felt.
Now, the band was getting ready to hit the stage together one final time, gathering around in a circle as they always did.
"Okay, I'm not trying to get sentimental over here," Harry spoke to his bandmates, "But these past shows wouldn't had been possible without you, so let's do it one last time for London."
"Let's go!" Pauli cheered hyping everyone, and then they were off to perform.
The evening went on filled with music, excitement and love. Harry charmed the crowd as usual and the band gave their best playing their instruments.
"I'd like to take a few second, no, not a quick second, a brief moment to introduce you to my wonderful band." Harry said into the mic and proceeded to introduce each of his bandmates, leaving his girlfriend last as usual.
"And finally, in bass and vocals, YN!" she waved out to the crowd, but surprise filled her face when instead of moving on with the next song, Harry continued speaking about her, "YN, you're not just my bandmate, you're also my girlfriend, my musical soulmate and my partner in crime," Harry said, putting a hand into his heart and making the entire audience become emotional, "Tonight is a very special night, and I want to give you something that is just as special, and celebrate with everyone here."
A trace of confusion flickered across YN's face, not sure about what Harry was about to do, she leaned closer and her voice came out in barely a whisper, "Harry what's going on? Don't tell me you're proposing becau-"
"I'm not proposing, yet," Harry interrupted her with a wink, "Just wait here."
He walked towards the side of the stage where a crew member handed her the a shinny item that YN and the rest of the crowd was yet to identify, it was when she took a proper look at the golden trophy that a wave of realization hit her body.
"No way, Harry. Is that?" YN said off the mic to him when he was next to her.
"It's your Grammy, baby. Came in the mail the other day and I decided this was the best way to give it to you," Harry shrugged, pulling her into his arms in hug, "Congratulations, bandmate."
YN pulled back to look at him, she was aware of the thousands of fans watching them but she still pulled him in for a quick kiss before speaking, "Thank you, this is magical."
Harry only pecked her forehead before speaking to the crowd again, "Give it up for YN! Grammy Award winner for her collaboration as a songwriter and producer in Harry's House!"
The audience broke down in cheers and screams as YN held her award up, and as the crowd continued to celebrate, she thought that the award not only symbolized a musical achievement, but also the strong bond she shared with Harry, one she wishes would last forever.
taglist: @lightsoutstyles @waitingroomharry @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies
tell me if you want to be added to the taglist <3
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ozzgin · 8 months
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How would the guys react to prehistoric reader fighting pickle (and she wins if that’s akay) Since he angered her. Because he ate her food( or she really loves food or she’s on her period)
(hope it makes sense )
I can never say no to a strong female character so it’s absolutely okay! If you‘d be so kind, I have two more asks regarding the prehistoric reader that I think are somewhat similar, so I’d just combine them under your request.
The first request: prehistoric pregnant reader “adopts” Baki (our affection deprived boy could use some love); her first spoken word is “Pickle”, and finally she gives birth to twins
The second request: prehistoric reader begins understanding modern human language, surprising the fighters, and begins translating for Pickle.
Baki Characters x Prehistoric! Fem Reader (II)
Featuring Pickle and his challengers. The sequel to our prehistoric reader that just gave birth and is slowly cozying up to modern life.
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Reader wins against Pickle
You don’t even remember what set you off. Maybe the pregnancy hormones had gotten out of hand, or Pickle’s successive wins had earned him too much audacity. What’s certain is that you weren’t pleased with his attitude and decided to remind him you’re not one of the humans for him to show this insolence.
Hearing the savage, vicious growls that erupted from your chest as you slammed Pickle’s unconscious body into the ground one final time, no one really dared to interrupt you. Retsu, Katsumi and Jack had already received extensive injuries from a Pickle that held back still. They didn’t wish to ponder what you could do to them in your current state. Baki glanced at his father, wondering if he’d be tempted to challenge you during this unique opportunity.
Yuujirou, however, was trying his best to hold back his laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so entertained. If you were moping the floors with Pickle with a massive pregnant belly, how damn strong were you on a regular day? He nearly put his hands together in prayer, hoping you’d stick around once you were done popping kids. He wanted to fight you so badly and felt like a schoolgirl kicking her feet on the mattress the night before a class trip.
Baki finds it amusing that you’re seemingly stronger than Pickle. His only goal is defeating his father. Of course, anyone strong enough could provide him with extra training for the final battle, but at this point, with you as his opponent, he might actually be overreaching. He hopes you won’t decide to fight Yuujirou anytime soon, because he wants to be the one to defeat him first. Jack shares this sentiment but is also a bit deflated knowing how big the gap between him and the ancient humans is.
Reader’s first word
Pickle is curled up in his enclosure’s tree trunk, pouting mildly after the angry defeat he suffered. To add insult to the injury, he can hear Baki’s spoiled chuckles as you feed him some of your T-Rex meat. After his fight with Pickle, the young boy was most open to receive aftercare and attention and you found it utterly adorable that someone as strong as him enjoyed special treatment.
The other men found it rather humiliating to rely on you and would gently let you know that they can manage just fine. But Baki immediately clung onto you and in time you began to wonder about his family. You weren’t entirely sure how to express the question to him. Did he have a mother? Where was she? How would you gesture for “mother” in the first place? If only you could articulate the same noises the other humans used to communicate. It looked very efficient and also very complex.
You glance at Pickle’s hiding spot, lost in thought. You try to replay some of the dialogues you’ve witnessed. In your mind, you closely observe the men discussing things in front of your prehistoric mate. The way their jaw opens and closes at calculated intervals. Why is the tongue contracting so frequently? Is this the tool needed to turn your growls into intentional, obvious messages? You pucker your lips and allow some air to blow out, like a faint whistle. Then, you tighten your lips and release them with pressure, and a “pop” sound comes out. Baki observes your attempts, confused. You press your tongue against the roof of your mouth and exhale. Another flattened whistle is released.
Finally, you flex your vocal chords with just enough force that the growl smoothens out and is replaced by a continuous voice. You repeat the movements that you’ve practiced in your head. So many people have used this word when looking at him. It can only mean one thing, and you want to hear it roll out of your own mouth. “Pi-ku-ru~”
Pickle pokes his head out of the enclosure, perplexed. That was certainly your voice, but the contents delivered by it were nothing he would’ve expected. His eyebrows are raised and he looks at your equally shocked expression. Baki is dumbfounded. He feels like he just witnessed something forbidden, of unspeakable importance. The raw piece of meat hangs in his mouth, yet to be chewed. You turn to the small human, seeking approval. Was this the correct way to do it? Have you made your message clear?
Before a potential answer comes out, you rush to Pickle and grab his face between your hands. Such a bizarre sensation. Within this vast, intricate language that the humans used, this one sequence of contractions and movements was specially designated for him. This one prolonged sound, and his eyes will lock with yours because he knows it’s him you’re calling. You gently kiss Pickle and he clumsily returns the gesture, still unsure of what is happening.
Birth and aftermath
Professor Payne is pacing in front of the hospital room. He doesn’t know what to be more excited about. The fact that two more prehistoric humans will soon walk the modern Earth, or that their mother casually reproduced articulate language just a few days ago. He clenches his fist in his pocket, somewhat resentful of Baki for being the one to retell the story. What unbelievable potential. His nostrils can already pick up the fresh ink of the soon-to-be published newspapers: “Noam Chomsky’s works in linguistics threatened by latest breakthrough - Discovery of Dr. Payne shows that ancient, Jurassic humans posses the skill to acquire spoken language. Implications unknown.”
Meanwhile, the fighters are gathered in the cramped hospital room. As they have proven their friendship to Pickle, it’s only natural to share this intimate moment with him. Pickle is holding one baby in each arm, cooing at them excitedly. Katsumi is pretending to be focused on a sight outside the window in order to hide his glossy eyes; births are always emotional for him. Retsu is standing close to the entrance, arms folded. He, too, is distracted by the knowledge that you may understand them and reproduce their words. He absentmindedly goes back to his encounters with you, hoping he didn’t say anything out of place that you might’ve picked up.
Baki is sitting on the side of your bed, carefully kneading your hand in an attempt to relax you. “You really should try some of the hospital food, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a dish this fancy!” He smiles at you and then nods in the direction of the tray. You follow his gaze and process his words. “Want try?” You manage to croak. Everyone in the room pauses to look at you. They already knew it from Baki, but hearing it firsthand truly is an astonishing experience. There’s a silent enthusiasm shared by the men standing close and Pickle tenses up, a small frown forming on his face. They better not get any ideas.
“What do you think about your new siblings?” Jack questions Baki jokingly. “Given you’ve been adopted by (Y/N) and all.” You follow the conversation with analytical eyes and Jack wants to try his hand at explaining the words to you. Once the meanings start to connect, you laugh and begin gesturing to Pickle, aided by short growls. Everyone assumes you’re translating to him. Pickle glares at Baki and his hold on the babies tightens, perhaps too hesitant to agree to your bond with the little modern human.
Pickle sighs deeply. Not only was he thrown into this strange world, but now there’s a bunch of men that are starting to show too much interest in you. He’ll have to put them in their place very soon if this continues. He’s especially annoyed at your fast learning pace when it comes to conversing with these creatures. He needs to hurry up and catch up to you if he wants to know the intentions of his rival friends.
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butterflyfive · 1 month
Text
Celebrating your birthday
How genshin boys would celebrate your birthday 🍰❤️
kazuha, diluc, wriothesley, neuvillette
g/n reader
a/n : it’s my birthday today so I had to make a birthday themed post
Kazuha 
you wake up to a letter and a wrapped gift, he hugs you and urges you to read and open them. The letter is handwritten, and the gift is handmade. he believes something personally crafted can best express his love 
he’ll tell you all of his favorite things about you, give you so many kisses and pet your hair 
wants you to have fun with a variety of things to do 
buys you a new outfit you try on at a store, then ask you to race him outside on a whim
he’ll pick a dandelion and tell you to make a wish on it as he smiles 
in the middle of the day you rest under a cherry blossom in his warm embrace. he’ll hum for you as you rest there
“I’m so fortunate to have you in my life, y/n. Let's continue adventuring together forever, at each other’s side through everything.” 
Diluc
It will be only the best for his love 
he gifts you a relaxing day with no stress, he wants to take care of everything 
gives you sentimental gifts like a ring or set of earrings
he’ll also spoil you with other lovely gifts of your liking, he knows you well 
you’re grateful a luxurious meal together 
at the end of the night he wants to wind you down and pour you a glass of wine, put music on, talk about your day, aspirations, and give you a light massage 
“I’ll do everything in my power to see you happy and prosperous. I love you, y/n.”
Wriothesley 
very much cares about celebrating you and making you feel special 
he’ll tell you how much you’ve changed his life and how you make him happy 
uses this day as an opportunity to cook for you since he doesn’t often have the time 
will want to please you (I’m sorry I do mean it in that way)
sets out a blanket so you can gaze at the stars as he holds you 
he might surprise you with a gift that’s rare, vintage, hard to find, or expensive. he couldn’t resist 
“Every day you’re worth celebrating, and I wish I had time more often to show it. I love you, and please never forget that.”
Neuvillette 
he’s old fashioned and it’s very charming. he presents you with a bouquet of flowers and a card / letter. Your signed name is in his elegant handwriting 
for dinner he takes you to a fine restaurant. he booked a reservation in advance with a wonderful view or a table on the upper patio, there’s a feeling of privacy in this area
he gets you gifts of things you mention interest in. he always listens and remembers internally what you bring up 
in the night he’ll take you somewhere he usually goes to alone, somewhere special to him. he wants to share this place with you 
he wants to hold your hand and gaze into your eyes admiring you from time to time. he knows it can make you shy but is indulging just a little bit more than usual today 
“It's so nice to spend quality time together on your birthday. I hope all of your dreams come true, and I will stay by your side always.” 
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