#but she feels SO entitled to my time that she will just insist that i drop everything and do something for her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smhalltheurlsaretaken · 3 months

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~all creatures great and small~ (amazing illustration by the awesome @david-talks-sw)

“And just what exactly is it that you’ve been doing?”

Obi-Wan had to stop himself from giving his fellow Councillor—and friend—a rather pronounced eyeroll.

“You tell me,” he said without taking his eyes off his clamoring little herd, feeling rather proud of himself. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Mace came up to his side and crossed his arms, looking decidedly unimpressed. He looked at Obi-Wan, then at his rambunctious little friends and their merrymaking, then back at Obi-Wan again.

“It looks like you have been avoiding meetings all morning.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at his mouth. He carefully put his hands in his large sleeves.

“Have I?” He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop laughing if he saw Mace’s no doubt exasperated face, so he kept carefully looking onward. “You should have called me.”

“You know I did,” Mace griped, valiantly ignoring the racket and still boring holes in the side of Obi-Wan’s face.

If it came to a contest of wills, Obi-Wan knew he’d be hard pressed to match Mace’s stubbornness. He turned to face him, and inevitably let out a huffed chuckle. Mace looked annoyed alright, but he could do nothing about the twinkle in his deep eyes.

“You,” Mace insisted, no doubt trying to maintain what he probably hoped to be a convincingly stern demeanor, “have spent all day corrupting our next generation instead of going over mission reports.”

“Really, Mace—”

A yellow blur careening between the two of them nearly knocked them off their feet. A beige, more bipedal one rushed right after it, bumping into them both with equal speed if not equal force.

“Sorry Masters!” the youngling yelled over her shoulder without stopping.

Obi-Wan had to cough into his fist to keep from cackling.

“Obi-Wan.” Mace said.

“She apologized,” Obi-Wan pointed out with a brilliant smile.

“You still haven’t.”

“What for?”

Mace’s control finally cracked, and he thrust an accusing finger at Obi-Wan’s innocent face, ready to give into a rare display of unrestrained aggravation. Obi-Wan quickly batted it away and beat him to the punch.

“It’s a perfectly good way of teaching the younglings patience and control!”

Mace blinked at him, his mouth left hanging open, his finger still up and now pointing somewhere over to the right. He turned slowly, and surveyed the bustling courtyard in bemusement. The half-dozen or so pufferpigs that Obi-Wan had let loose there were being corralled by three times as many eager younglings, clone cadets and Padawans, and the animals all felt entitled to express the full range of their feelings on the matter in a loud and enthusiastic fashion. Little Mari Amithest was still running after the particularly rowdy creature that had mistaken Obi-Wan and Mace for Rodian bowling pins.

Mace’s eyebrows climbed to previously undiscovered heights.

“What part of this,” he gestured incredulously, “is controlled?”

“None of the pigs have puffed yet,” Obi-Wan explained seriously.

Mace’s eyebrows were now on their way into orbit. A moment passed. Then, his expression of astonishment seamlessly melted into curiosity.

“They haven’t?” he asked, considering the whole bunch with renewed interest.

“I told you, it’s a proven method,” Obi-Wan insisted, vindicated. He pointed to the far corner of the courtyard, where Katooni was showing some of the younger children how to feed a happy looking unpuffed puffer. “My Padawan has taught that one to do tricks.”

The squealing puffer was hopping from one foot to the other before avidly sweeping treats from the children’s outstretched hands.

Mace was now looking suitably impressed. More careful study of Mari’s chase was making it apparent that the animal she was after was not distressed in any way, but was—rather mischievously—trying to run off with her sash clutched in its stout trunk.

“You shouldn’t let emotions cloud your perception,” Obi-Wan reminded him in a serious voice.

“Hm,” Mace conceded magnanimously, impervious to the teasing.

The twinkle of carefully contained amusement that had been present in his eyes from the start had won over all other sentiments. A wet snort had the two Masters look down at the adventurous pufferpig that had made its way over to them. The amicable beast was fixing them with soulful blue eyes, candidly inoffensive. Its stubby tail was wagging quite politely. Mace distractedly bent down to pet the expectant critter on its broad, squishy face.

“It wants to smell your lightsaber,” Obi-Wan warned. “They like crystals.”

Mace straightened and put a hand on his hilt.

“The Mining Guild didn’t pick them up yesterday?” he inquired. “That was on the agenda.”

Obi-Wan shrugged.

“They tried, but for some reason all the identity chips turned out to be unreadable. There’s no way to prove who these fellows belong to.”

Mace gave him a flat look.

“Hondo stole them from a Republic transport.”

“There’s all sorts of things on Republic transports,” Obi-Wan reasonably pointed out.

“The transport was chartered by the Mining Guild.”

“Hondo wiped the manifest during his hijacking. There’s just no way to know.”

“Your Padawan was there to escort the Mining Guild representatives.”

“Some mysteries can never hope to be solved.”

The pufferpig had taken to bonking its head against their legs affectionately. Mace, bowing to the undeniable strength of Obi-Wan’s ironclad argumentation, very seriously gave the tenacious quadruped another pat.

“They’re not staying,” he reminded Obi-Wan firmly.

“Obviously not,” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “The Temple would be a terrible environment for them.”

His friend narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“And you’re not making me spend my time finding them a place.”

“Honestly, Mace.” Obi-Wan gave the affable puffer a gentle shove, and it obediently trotted away to a nearby group of younglings and clone cadets who were already entertaining one of its siblings. Obi-Wan wiped his hands on his pants. “Naboo has very responsible educational farms.”

“Does it,” Mace said mildly.

“Including a recently opened one in the Lake District.”

Unashamedly petty enjoyment rang in the Force.

“Don’t come to me when Skywalker tries to send them back.”

“Who says I’ll pick up when he does?”

Obi-Wan loved Anakin, dearly. Still, he hadn’t yet quite forgiven his old Padawan for retiring—running away—before they could make him shoulder his share of the sacred responsibility of wrangling the Temple’s significantly increased youngling population. It was Luke and Leia’s birthday soon anyway.

“You’re stooping to deviousness,” Mace said, carefully neutral.

Obi-Wan gave him a wry look.

“Never. Revenge is not the Jedi way,” he said just as calmly.

“It’s them you’re supposed to be teaching,” Mace said with a short nod towards the unruly bunch. “He’s had his turn.”

Speaking of teaching…

“Oh my,” Obi-Wan said smugly, pointing to a boy who had taken to carefully levitating a surprisingly compliant—if a little alarmed—pufferpig, “that wouldn’t happen to be Caleb, would it?”

His fellow Council member was now pinching the bridge of his nose, his other hand planted on his hip.

“I must say, that young man is certainly very skilled at forming connections with animals. Depa must be very proud.”

“Just don’t,” Mace groaned. He whipped out his communicator. “He’s supposed to be meditating with Yoda right now.”

“That explains it,” Obi-Wan said.

Master Yoda was slowly ambling into the courtyard, looking quite pleased with what he was seeing. He poked misbehaving younglings with his cane as he walked, chuckling to himself when they yelped and hastily reached with the Force to make sure the pufferpigs stayed relaxed. The pufferpigs themselves were only curious, and in a sufficiently playful mood that the younglings’ offended squeaking was not enough to agitate them. Caleb had set down his floating puffer with all possible speed—and great care—at the sight of the venerable elder, and made ample and readily accepted apologies to the perplexed animal in the form of scritches.

Mace slowly put away his communicator. He pursed his lips.

“Obi-Wan,” he said slowly, “next time, just have them practice making friends with the stray tookas.”

That’s how his master had done it, and Mace had never had any problems with connecting with animals, large and small.

“Pufferpigs are much more even-tempered.”

It was all Mace could do not to facepalm. Giving up, he shot Obi-Wan one last dry look.

“Just do your damn paperwork.”

Obi-Wan watched him stride away, dignified and imposing. Of course, since he wasn’t exactly paying attention to his surroundings, with how focused he was on pretending he was above this whole situation, he didn’t notice Mari’s wayward puffer on a direct collision course with his legs. The poor creature, who hadn’t noticed Mace either, let out a terrified screech and promptly puffed.

The entire courtyard froze, watching with fascination as the inflated pufferpig bounced twice and slowly rolled to a halt. It made a sorry little squeak.

Resignedly, Mace closed his eyes and set to work on gently calming down the pufferpig with the Force.

The children loudly cheered.

#ficlet #mace windu #obi-wan kenobi #star wars #no order 66 #jedi order #jedi temple #my writing #yoda #caleb dume #katooni #loose sequel to my fic “villains and knaves”#Hondo stole the pufferpigs to sell them obi-wan confiscated them and now he’s not giving them back to the mining guild meanies

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manicpixiefelix · 3 months

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baby, put your back into it {Farleigh Start/Reader/Oliver Quick}

1/2: i'm gonna talk you through it [SMUT]

Summary: You're the daughter of one of Henrys, and known to be a snobby, entitled Princess of a woman; neither Venetia nor Felix seems to like you. Farleigh, however, claims that you and he have an ongoing arrangement. Felix says that arrangement is that you and Farleigh bitch together, then fuck like wild animals every time you hang out. Turns out you're even bitchier in person, and after a cruel joke played on Oliver by you and Farleigh at the Henrys dinner, he decides to take a bit of power back. Not that it goes as intended... nor that it goes completely wrong.

Need to Know: She/Her. AFAB!Reader. Established FWB Brat!Reader/Brat Tamer!Farleigh

Warnings: PWP!! smut; fingering, oral (F receiving), dirty talk, lots of arguing, reader is very very bratty, demeaning talk, bondage & restraints, explicit discussions around safewords (it does happen a little bit into the action but before anything major), pet name used for the reader "princess"

A/N: 4730 words. okay turns out i can write pwp. i cut out like 1.5k of background and you get the gist of it in the summary. there will be a part 2 thats heavy on the smut, but this trio takes a while to set anything up because they can't stop arguing. hints of farleigh/oliver. this was a lot of fun but again i can't stress how long its been since ive written full, proper smut, so id really appreciate feedback. <3 unedited, i love you.

{ masterpost : 1/2 }

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Fucking Farleigh Start. Oliver feels the fury as it burns and bubbles inside of him, stalking quietly through the halls of Saltburn. There, at the end of the hall, Farleigh's bedroom door, quiet and unassuming, and right next to it, Oliver's target; your door. Farleigh isn't the only one in the house who can wrap people around his little finger; he isn't the only one in the house who can get the Princess to kneel.

Trying the handle, he finds it unlocked, and eases the old, wooden door open.

"Farleigh was right," upon hearing your voice, bright, amused, and very much awake in the dark, Oliver jumps, "you're an A-plus lurker, I didn't even hear you come in."

"Was a nasty thing you did to me tonight," Oliver tries to regain some of his composure, some of the ire he'd built up on the way here.

"So you've snuck into my room, I assume you assumed I was asleep, to- what, wake me up and berate me?" There's something smug and biting in your voice, something that fuels the fury coiling deep in his gut, "that doesn't sound like enough for someone like you, tricksie, little, pauper boy." When you start to move from where you've been sitting up in bed, crawling to the end to sit on your knees as the moonlight streaks through your window and finally paints you in sharp relief, he sees you're already nude.

But even your stunning body in the moonlight cannot compare to the look on your face, the sharp, hungry, mean amusement he's never seen a person wear so well.

"Go on then, shout," your eyes shine dangerously in the moonlight; "don't you want Farleigh to hear?" They might have been right. You might be the devil. Your smile gets wider, and Oliver can only watch, rather transfixed, as you start rolling your hips with purpose, "or do you want him to hear something else?" He hears, quietly at first, a soft tap, getting louder as you keep insistently thrusting against the air, against the mattress, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall behind it, the wall that you shared with Farleigh on the other side.

Then, all at once, you stopped. A loud, mean laugh is pulled from you as you pitch yourself back on the bed, kicking your legs out in front of you to hang off the edge, completely relaxed, completely exposed. You give a loud, amused sigh, looking up at the canopy of the four poster bed.

"God, you're such a little bitch, Oliver, Farleigh was so right," you snorted, "I was the one who actually saw you eating Venetia like your life depended on it, on the lawn of all places," you shook your head, "I don't know what you told Felix to get out of that one but I know what I saw," clicking your tongue, you raised your leg, pointing a foot at him, not even bothering to look at him, "now you won't even touch me in my own bedroom when I'm practically begging for it. I'm choosing to be offended about that; you've offended me, Oliver."

Slowly, your leg lowers, and you kick your heels idly against the end of the bed in the silence.

"Where do you get all your attitude from?" Oliver finally speaks, tone turning scornful as he approached you.

"The money," you fire back with ease, "which is why you always seem to have none." Then, in the furious silence that followed, you grinned sharply at the roof, still not bothering to look at him, "try harder."

When he touches your knee, his fingers gentle against your skin, you kick him hard in the thigh with your other foot -

"The fuck? Did you just kick me?"

"Yeah, and?" He can almost hear you rolling your eyes, "what did you think it was, the wind? Ghost of Grandma Catton?"

"Do you fuckin' want me or not?" He's still standing within kicking range, he learns too late. All the while you've never even looked at him, always looking at the ceiling, hands comfortably, casually behind your head. There's a smug grin on your lips now, something teasing and once more mean.

"Do you want me?" You respond, legs gliding open, an open invitation to your slick, moon-drenched cunt, "I thought you wanted to use me to get back at Farleigh," you said mockingly, finally looking up and meeting his deep, furious gaze. Propped up on your elbows, you give a grin that's all teeth, "wanted to show us who has the real power, that you can get us back for the stunt we pulled after dinner," you sat up further, intense, hungry amusement in your eyes that drew Oliver in to you, leaning in, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as you were almost nose to nose. Your voice lowers, gaze on his lips as your voice turns to almost a moan, "wanted to show Farleigh that you could take anything he thought was his; even me," and you start fake moaning, softly at first, but getting exponentially louder as you leaned back again, against the bed, arching and writhing from nothing, putting on a show that ended with you shouting - "Oliver's a fucking bitch!" At the top of your lungs, and cackling with glee.

Rage exploded within Oliver, and for a moment, overcome with a strange sense of betrayal at your demonstration, he smacks at your inner thigh with all the might he can muster. He can tell it stings, your laughter stops for just a moment, leg flinching up for just a second, but then you're laughing harder if possible.

"Your first mistake - of many - was letting her talk at all," Farleigh's voice from the door is frankly annoyed. You, however, gasp with delight, sitting directly up and looking at Farleigh with absolute glee.

"That's not his fault, I wasn't going to tell him," you pointed out, before looking down at your thighs, and Oliver's hands still on them, and the part of you that must have still stung from the slap, "why is your grip so soft?" You looked up at him with a derisive expression, and immediately Oliver's grip on you goes tight, nails digging into your skin; you're fucking laughing at him again, still, "awe, you're getting there -"

"Could you stop that already?" Oliver leans in, scowling at you. Eyebrows raising in mock surprise, you grinned with devilish intent.

"Stop what?"

"All that fuckin' talking you're doing."

"I don't know, can I -?" But then out of seemingly nowhere, Farleigh sits himself down at the end of the bed next to you, flush against your side. He's still in his crisp, white shirt, and black slacks, looking so put together next to your brash nudity. When his hand comes up to your jaw, barely two fingers beneath your chin to guide you, to have you looking him in the eyes, you have to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. Both he and Oliver can see how badly you want to laugh, to make any kind of sound, but you hold yourself back.

"Okay, your fucking highness," Farleigh's voice is low and dangerous, full of warning, and Oliver sees you take a sharp breath in, gaze fixed on Farleigh's, "you don't get shit from either of us if you can't keep your dirty mouth closed." Though you nod adamantly, you puff out your cheeks, amusement in your eyes as you're clearly desperate to say something; "what?" Farleigh frowns.

"I have really bad news for you about what I have to do to suck dick," you point out, trying to keep your composure. It's not working, giggles are escaping you at a rapid rate.

"You are testing nerves I didn't even know I had," Oliver admits, desperately trying to sink his nails into you as hard as he could. If he could draw blood, perhaps that would be enough penance for having to endure your infuriating company.

However, it's Farleigh who speaks, lip curling with frustration as he smacks Oliver's hand away from the thigh closest to him. With a solid grip on that thigh, he pulls you leg close to him, forcing your legs wider, exposing you further.

"Then do something about it," he practically orders, and something about the tone sparks a kind of indignation in his chest, "you need me to talk you through it?" He snaps. This, however, quickly turns smug and mean as Farleigh leans in, nose to nose with Oliver and his building frustration with them both; "you know how to eat pussy, right?"

"You should both be very careful what you wish for," Oliver's eyes flash with a dangerous confidence as he sank down on his knees between your legs. You, thrilled and delighted by how the situation was no unfolding, lay yourself back on the bed with contented laughter, hands coming to rest confidently behind your head once more.

Farleigh watches Oliver with intense scrutiny, and for reasons he's not quite sure of, Oliver meets his gaze, refuses to break eye contact. His hand moves first, no longer holding your left thigh, he digs his elbow into your soft inner thigh, bracing his arm against you, forcing your leg further open and keeping it that way, letting him comfortably rest his hand with his thumb on your clit.

"Smart boy," you hum appreciatively, shifting your hips back and forth a little as his thumb is rubbing circles against your clit, "knows where the start button is." He takes his thumb off of you, much to your confusion. His gaze is still locked with Farleigh's. "Fucking hell, are you tired already -?" You sat up on your elbows, scowling at him, but Oliver looks sharply to you.

"Weren't you listening to Farleigh, princess?" Oliver asks, and there's something so deliciously satisfying about the look of flustered surprise on your face in this moment. Beside you, Farleigh huffs a laugh to himself and stands, pulling off his tie. Oliver's full attention, however, is still trained on your. Slowly, as he speaks, he again begins to rub circles against your clit, teasing, never enough proper pressure to be satisfying.

"I -" you started, but he immediately stopped again; out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver sees Farleigh's approving nod. Something about this all has his blood rushing in his fucking ears. You press your lips together, giving him a now expectant look, as if here, I've done what you've asked.

You're so wet, so wanting, ready and waiting, right thigh inching closer, leg curling around him, heel pressing insistently into his back. God you look so fucking good, he wants nothing more than to eat you like a man starving, tasting every inch of you -

"Give me your belt," Farleigh interrupts, and Oliver pauses, mouth literally an inch from your cunt, looking up at Farleigh like he can't quite believe him right now.

"Farleigh!" You exclaim with utter frustration, right leg lashing out to kick him, but he grabs your ankle and holds it tightly. With his free hand he makes an expectant, grabby hand at Oliver.

"Belt, now please." He practically orders.

"Use your own belt, Farleigh," Oliver nods to the belt Farleigh had just tossed to the side of the room, and Farleigh gives him a thin, unamused smile.

"Mine's nicer, and I don't want your cum on it," he explained with a mean, humourless smile. Oliver sat back for a long, furious moment, undoing his belt. The minute his hands were off of you, you tried to whine, but Farleigh, now just in his boxers, sat further up the bed beside you.

"This is overkill, I'll be good," you pouted, twisting to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him with as pleading eyes as you could manage.

"You're not even being good right now," he pointed out; "both your thighs are over Oliver's fucking shoulders, and you haven't gone thirty seconds without saying something," but clearly you're pleased and flustered at being called out. Farleigh says your name more insistently, and you try and play innocent before he practically orders, "get your fucking legs off of him!" Like he can't quite believe you're still trying these tricks, even though you both seem comfortable in this dynamic.

"Oliver~" Farleigh then practically sings like a warning, gaze turning much colder as it falls back on Oliver himself, "where are we with that belt?"

"What's it for anyways?" Oliver finally pulls his belt free, awkwardly half throwing it to Farleigh, who does actually thank him, before his attention is back on you, bare and warm and wet and - "princess," he says suddenly before Farleigh can even answer his initial question, looking up, and you make a noise of acknowledgement, "you want me to touch you like I mean it, then keep your legs spread like you actually fucking want it," voice going low and sharp, immediately you widen your legs as best you can.

"Oh, he's good," Farleigh says, surprisingly appreciatively, watching as Oliver makes a meal of you.

Finally, finally, Oliver's mouth is on you, tongue gliding playfully along your slit, his nose continually bumping his thumb as it continues to work your clit, firmer this time. You hips wriggle and roll with him, desperate for more, growing frustrated with his teasing lightness.

"The belt can be for several things," Farleigh began, matter-of-factly as he began to loop the belt through itself, focusing on his task at hand, "if she insists on closing her legs, I'm not above using both belts to make sure she keeps them open - this bedframe's especially good for that -" a hot spike of desire passes through Oliver all at once, picturing you bound and open and begging -

"Oh, don't joke about that Farleigh, come on, you know I love that -" you actually whimpered, but Oliver, still keeping in mind the earlier warning, once more stops entirely. You gasp, as if betrayed, before remembering for yourself, actually whining, "you guys fucking suck," you whimper petulantly. For a moment, Oliver wonders if he really aught to be here, if this strange, psychosexual encounter was really worth it.

"You're fucking loving this," Farleigh countered without a moment of hesitation, saying it with such confidence that it almost surprised Oliver, "you just hate that you can't shut the fuck up for any amount of time, and that Oliver isn't actually as much of a little bitch as you thought," clearing his throat, Farleigh cast an evaluative look, before trying to shrug it off nonchalantly, "as either of us thought, I guess."

A moment of quiet stillness passes, and Oliver looks to you, face scrunched up with embarrassment, as all of Farleigh's words apparently rang true.

"Are you hourly, Oliver?" Farleigh then scowls, much to Oliver's confusion. Farleigh looks at him like he's a downright idiot, "the princess is actually being quiet, which means..." he trailed off pointedly. Oliver sat back on his heels, frowning at Farleigh for a long moment, his hands coming to rest on your knees. You, yet again growing incredibly unsatisfied, groaned into your hands.

"Not if you're gonna talk to me like that," Oliver takes a deep breath, sitting tall, gaze unflinching as he meets Farleigh's sneering gaze.

"Then fuck off, Little Orphan Ollie, we don't need you," he spits, "you should really feel lucky that you even got this far -"

"You're all talk, Farleigh," Oliver, with a newfound confidence, and his hands on you, rubbing small, gentle circles against your inner thighs with his thumbs. Farleigh's eyes narrow, but Oliver's smile turns knowing, "I know you can throw her around, and tie her up, and give her orders, clearly," he tips his head ever so slightly to the side, gaze slipping to you, to where you've still got your face covered by your hands, "but we both know no-one can speak for her, but her."

The faint, frustrated whimpering that had been escaping you this entire time goes dead silent. Oliver feels the way you go very still. Farleigh, realising what Oliver meant, also turned to look at you properly.

"'s your bedroom, princess," Oliver leans in, presses a kiss to your inner thigh, murmuring softly against your skin, "what do you think?"

"I think you're edging each other with psychosexual, power-play, bullshit-banter that's doing fucking nothing for me," you snap behind your hands, "and I'm gonna start kicking people again very soon," you warned. Farleigh rolled his eyes.

"Sit up," he sighed.

"No."

"Make a choice," Oliver told you, tone firmer this time.

"Also no." Your voice was sounding particularly petulant, and you even brought your knees together, closing yourself off in front of Oliver. After a long, vaguely irate silence, Farleigh takes a deep breath.

"Is something wrong? Are we at a yellow light? Red light?" He asks, tone far gentler, he leans over, fingers gentle against your hairline by your fingertips.

"Light... colours?" Oliver asks with genuine confusion. Farleigh is far less patient when he turns on Oliver, like he's frustrated to even be explaining this.

"Like a traffic light; instead of a safety word like pineapple, we have green - go, yellow - slow down, red - stop," said like he wanted to include duh, obviously on the end, but refrained, turning back to you.

"And... they're for her?" Intrigued and surprisingly endeared by the concept, Oliver leans forward with a little smile, resting his chin on one of your knees, looking between yourself and Farleigh. He watches you sigh, even with your hands over your face.

"How do you not know how safe words work? What kind of sex have you been having?" Farleigh's judgemental tone hits Oliver square in the chest, but before he can even answer, you finally sit up, expression wide and overwhelmed with frustration.

"Farleigh look at him; he's like if they made repression a person! He's been having the most boring, vanilla sex known to man - if any - and getting off in his spare time to things that would make God cry. Look him in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong -" Farleigh's gaze flicked to Oliver, who suddenly felt himself begin to flush scarlet, and had to sit back again, frowning at his hands. There was something about the shame at being so concisely called out that was... thrilling. Something about how clearly you could see through him, through his persona to the raw want at his very core, it was freeing. You sat up further, with purpose, grabbing Oliver's chin so roughly it shocked him, forcing him to look in your eyes for a long moment.

"You came in here with purpose thinking I was asleep; creepy, hot, deranged; I'm into it," you told him sternly, "I literally could not care less about you otherwise, you're nothing to me the rest of the time. You came here to put me in my place, I don't want you here if you can't do that." Fucking hell, Oliver can feel his heartbeat racing as you shove his face away, your expression almost bordering on disgust.

"So you're..." Farleigh, as if frustrated by this little tirade you saw fit to go on, was unimpressed as he once more checked in.

"Green light, obviously," you threw your hands into the air in exasperation, "it's like you've never met me before -" but before you can slump back against the bed like you so clearly wanted to, Farleigh catches you, shifts behind you to prop you up.

"You're a brat," Oliver says, finally finding the words for the dynamic, and rather charmed by it all. Still, Farleigh has to get a word in edgewise.

"How long 'd it take you to figure that out?" He muttered sarcastically, doing something behind your back while you made a show of struggling and wiggling, refusing to keep your left arm with whatever he was doing.

"So," Oliver clarified, testing out the code, "green light?" You grinned at him, giving a pleased nod. Farleigh, finally having caught your left hand seemingly for good, reiterates the statement distractedly. Then, with a sense of triumph and relief, he pulls the belt, and his makeshift handcuffs, tight.

"Why are you still dressed?" You ask Oliver sharply. You may have had a point, but the game was back on. With your hands secured, Farleigh sat back behind you on the bed, pulling you flush to him, arms secured and pressed between the two of you that was just edging on uncomfortable.

"Why are you still talking?" He mutters into your ear, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand coming to wrap over your mouth, while his other curled around your middle, pulling your legs apart, wasting no time in dipping two long, elegant fingers into you. Your eyes light up, gasping against his hand as the two of you watch with lust in your eyes as Oliver begins to undress.

"The belt," Farleigh's voice has that lazy kind of smugness that Oliver usually hated, but now kind of makes his head fuzzy and kind of like he wants to sink his teeth into him, "is to keep the princess in her place, because someone," he says pointedly, not that you seem to notice; your eyes are closed, and Farleigh's thumb is on your clit while the fingers he has inside of you curl lovingly into your sweet spot, "manages to escape every pair of padded handcuffs either of us have ever bought," he explains, turning his attention back to Oliver, "and she complains about metal handcuffs, and zip ties, has undone every rope knot I've ever tied, and ruined every single tie I've ever tried to tie her up with."

"I bought you new ones," your voice is faint, half a moan muffled behind Farleigh's hand, and Oliver, still unsure of how to respond to any of that, finally turns back to the two of you on the bed. There's something desperate about the way you're arching against Farleigh's firm hold on you, legs having fallen open as your hips rolled in time with his fingers, lewd and needy. But Farleigh's eyes are only on Oliver, watching him with hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide, gaze roaming over Oliver's physique.

At the sound of your voice, Farleigh's gaze meets Oliver's his smile widening just a touch before he stops entirely. A desperate keening is pulled from you, hips shifting for friction, for anything, as Farleigh rests his hand on your thigh, fingers slick, practically dripping with you.

"No, I'll be good," you whimper, eyes fluttering, half closed, "I'll be -" you were already breathing heavy, "so so good."

"Hear that?" Farleigh murmurs with a vindictive little smile, hand uncovering your mouth, moving to hold your chin, your mouth falling open in a moan as his nails scratch up your thighs. Oliver advances on you both, entranced by the sight of you both, desperate to have a taste, to play along.

"Think she even knows how to be good?" Oliver teases, once more between your thighs. Still, instead of giving you the same kind of proper relief that Farleigh had been offering, he starts out gentle once more.

"Oliver, you're so cruel," you whimper. Farleigh's hand moves from your jaw to wrap around your middle, holding you secure, while the hand that had sat on your thigh moves to your open mouth, Oliver watches, rapt, as he slides both slick digits past your lips, but it shuts you up well enough, lips closing on his fingers as you diligently lap up your own taste from him.

"See, can't trust a word she says," Farleigh purrs. You bite gently on his fingers as you moan, Oliver finally deciding to do more than just tease you. Oliver's fingers are shorter than Farleigh's, but damn if they can't still hit the same high notes. Curling and pressing in a steady rhythm, he alternates dipping his tongue in as much as he can, and circling your clit. Farleigh's hand has moved from your mouth, spit slicked fingers pinching at your nipples, lightly dragging his nails across your skin, while he's started rolling his hips against your back, cock unbearably hard and still confined to his boxers, pressed against you.

You're whimpering and moaning in his ear, straining against your handcuffs, arching, writhing, but Oliver's holding your thighs still and secure and Farleigh is captivated by how enthusiastically he's going down on you, how its shining on his cheeks, his nose - he reaches out, cards his fingers through Oliver's hair. Oliver looks up through his lashes, a fucking gorgeous sight that you're too lost to appreciate. Just for Farleigh.

God he could say something snide, something about sloppy seconds or something about this being the most expensive meal he'll ever have, but he doesn't. He gives a sly, approving smile, and his grip on Oliver's hair tightens.

"Teeth and tongue," he tells Oliver quietly. Oliver doesn't seem to get it at first, but you choke out a whine, arching further into Farleigh, tipping your head against his.

"That's cheating," you gasped, but Farleigh kept running his fingers through Oliver's hair, whose mouth had never left your cunt, nor his eyes Farleigh's face, "you're helping him cheat; you want me to cum this early?"

"You know what's cheating?" Farleigh once more grabbed your chin, angling your head so you could watch Oliver working hard to get you off, "look at him," Farleigh murmurs in your ear, "eyes open, on his," the commanding tone was hard to refuse, and your eyes fluttered open; the fucking sight of him, a mess between your legs, Farleigh's hand in his hair, was almost enough to send you over the edge, "tell him what I mean."

"Gentle- uh, gentle teeth on me- on my-" you desperately tried to string two words together as Oliver began to get more of an idea. Farleigh's hand on his head becoming more insistent, firmer, nose pressed firm against your skin when he finally took the hint, focusing on your clit, sucking and lapping at it, teeth gently teasing as you completely lost the ability to speak. The rhythm of his fingers was consistent and firm throughout it all, pressing just right -

"Keep your fucking eyes on him," Farleigh ordered, almost snarling it into your ear, "I want you to watch Oliver Quick make you cum." But Oliver had eyes only for him, feeling you clench around his fingers, thighs pressing desperately against his shoulder and the hand that had kept them apart, he could feel Farleigh's nails on his scalp and see the heady, smug pride in his eyes.

As you start to come down, breathing hard and heavy and leaning all your weight against Farleigh, you giggle with out of breath contentment.

"Princess's got not manners," Oliver shook his head with an air of disappointment, and Farleigh smirked, brushing some hair from Oliver's forehead before he reached up and tapped your cheek gently.

"Say thank you, Oliver."

"Thank you, Oliver," you grinned, tone surprisingly sincere, as Oliver crawled up onto the bed beside you both. But there's something dark and hungry in his eyes as he watched you both; reaching out, he presses the fingers against Farleigh's lips, your cum coating them like syrup. Farleigh is more than happy to lick them clean, tongue dancing lewdly around Oliver's digits, all kinds of inuendo and promise in his eyes.

Then, Oliver's attention turns on you something dark, hungry, almost deranged in his eyes. He takes your face in hand.

"And you, princess," he says derisively, not even respecting you enough to look you in the eyes in this moment, "this is not your place that I am putting you in," god it almost sounds like a threat, but you're already squirming with want and anticipation, "but we'll get there," he squeezes your cheeks and your mouth opens on command, tongue as pink and wet and desperate as your cunt had been. He spits in your mouth, sudden sneer curling his lip, blue eyes ice cold and demeaning; "and it's thank you, Oliver Quick."

You feel fucking filthy, can taste yourself in his spit.

You want him to do it again.

"Thank you, Oliver Quick."

{ part two here }

#saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh start imagine #farleigh imagine #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x farleigh start #oliver quick smut #farleigh start smut #farleigh smut #farleigh start x reader x oliver quick #farleigh x reader x oliver #manic writer

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xvysarene · 17 days

Text

𝕌𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕕

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader Prompt: “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you.” Words: ~2.5k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Antagonist MC, Mentions of wounds

His childhood friend exuded energy just as vibrant as her Anhausen class Evol, captivating those around her with her bubbly demeanor.

However, beneath the cheerful façade lay a calculated use of charm, a trait you couldn't help but notice, especially in her interactions with Zayne.

As a senior hunter, your responsibilities included supervising new recruits, and you discerned her manipulative tendencies over time.

"Just because you've seen me at my weakest, you’re not entitled to pass judgment on those dear to me. It proves how I've known her longer and better, as she would never stoop so low as to speak ill of you. I don’t need you babysitting me."

Quick to defend his adored friend and seemingly caught up in emotion, he voiced those unfavorable words your way.

You knew Zayne was a direct person, but being on the receiving end of those words hurt. Especially as you later realized that you harbored feelings towards the cold doctor, feelings that had unknowingly woven into what you had always believed to be a purely platonic friendship between the two of you.

“—and you’re here because?”

His voice jolted you out of your reverie.

Somehow, standing in the exact spot where your last conversation occurred, resulting in months of silence between the two of you, had clouded your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, trying to focus back on the present moment. “Greyson and Yvonne have been trying to get in touch with you.”

When news about Dr. Zayne taking recuperative leave had spread like wildfire throughout the UNICORNS, you had considered reaching out to him.

Your fingers had hovered over the phone, composing and deleting messages repeatedly.

In the end, you completely abandoned the notion altogether when you heard his childhood friend’s not-so-subtly mentioning her plan to visit and cook for him while chatting with the short-haired girl from the Data Analysis sector.

“I’m fine,” he managed to huff out after a while.

Taking a swift glance at the unexpected mess on his kitchen counters—scattered papers and remnants of food packaging—you challenged him. "I thought we had moved beyond the superficial 'I'm fine' responses when asking about each other's well-being."

Zayne didn’t reply and you noted that he had absentmindedly leaned his long legs against the kitchen counter as if seeking support from it.

“You, the Chief Cardiac Surgeon of Akso Hospital, someone who enjoys his lack of free time, couldn't possibly have felt 'just fine' after being placed on recuperative leave."

“I wasn't aware that you still kept tabs on my whatabouts," he retorted, eyes slightly gleaming competitively. However, they lacked the usual spark; instead, they hinted at tiredness and something indefinable that looked familiar but you couldn't quite pinpoint.

“I understand that your friend has probably visited you, but my great buddies insisted I come and check on you. They didn’t want to pester, but after two days of no answer, they are beginning to worry.” You raised your hands in a gesture of surrender. “Though if I’m not welcome, I’ll leave you be.”

As you moved past him towards the front door, you felt yourself emotionally drained from the brief exchange.

“Why you, specifically?” his whisper caused you to stop in your tracks.

“They know we are—” you stopped yourself, “used to be each other’s confidant. They thought you might be willing to speak to me if not to them.”

He chuckled dryly. “Used to…”

His muttered words compelled you to turn. Your hunter’s awareness noticed how he had subtly shifted, leaning more against the counter with one hand supporting his weight while his body slightly hunched forward, facing your retreating figure.

His body trembled with involuntary shivers, and the silver-framed glasses that had been perched on his nose earlier now lay discarded on top of the black granite.

“What’s wrong?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

Your eyes instantly snapped to his arms, expecting to see the familiar bluish hue and the delicate, yet deadly patterns of ice crystals.

Instead, you saw fresh cuts on the back of his hand. Both of them.

A sound must have escaped your lips because Zayne quickly tugged at his light gray pajama sleeves, trying to cover his hands. He took a step back as he heard you stomping towards him.

Helplessly, he played a brief game of tug-of-war with you before yielding to your unexpected strength.

“What the hell,” you breathed out as you took the angry red marks marring his pale skin, making them stand out more. When you rolled up his sleeves further, you discovered fresh lacerations, a chilling reminder of the frost's icy grip.

You cupped his cheeks. It took his gaze a moment to gradually refocus on you, seemingly startled by the sudden skin contact. “Zayne, what happened?”

His lips were sealed shut. He began to resist, however, as you guided him towards his bedroom, but your hunter strength slightly won over his sluggish state.

Zayne watched you intensively check his wounds after you managed to get him to bed. They were more severe than the scratches you saw after you had cradled his frozen arms and succeeded in defrosting them using your Evol. It was when you found him beating himself up in regret for failing to save your partner during surgery.

As you stood up to fetch the medical supplies, his hand swiftly caught your forearm, surprising you with its speed. "You don’t have to take care of me," he insisted.

“Respectfully, Zayne,” you began, knowing he'd grimace at your next choice of words, “Fuck your pride and let me look after you.”

Seeing his familiar disapproving grimace at the brash word, you chuckled quietly to yourself.

Your boldness and recklessness often clashed with his calm and collected nature, one that left people wondering how a friendship could blossom between two such opposites.

As the antiseptic scent filled the air and silence enveloped the room while you tended to his arms, memories flooded back to the griefful night when you had lost your partner.

He had treated your temporarily forgotten battle wounds after the frost had thawed from his arms.

“It’s not your fault,” Zayne had spoken softly as he cleaned your wounds.

Your breath stuttered, surprised by the doctor's attempt to console you. Many people regarded him as highly reserved due to the carefully crafted mask of indifference he wore.

"The other staff told me what happened. You couldn’t have known that he was bitten; a child Chlorostaga leaves a very small puncture, and it would only feel like an ant has bitten you. With adrenaline running high, he wouldn’t have felt a thing."

“He told me that his heart was racing unusually fast during the transport back,” you whispered, feeling the tears clouding your vision. “And I jokingly suggested he needed to do more exercise.

“He laughed at it until—“ you forced down the bile rising in your throat before being able to continue, “until he suddenly collapsed from cardiac arrest. We were only a few minutes out before arriving here to treat our wounds.”

Zayne continued gently dressing your gashes as you recounted the last moment with your partner. “His last memory was of happiness with you, feeling fulfilled knowing he had once again protected Linkon City from Wanderers... With his trusted partner."

The tears you had struggled to contain finally broke through, cascading down your cheeks in torrents. He held you close that day, offering comfort until every tear was dried.

From that moment, a bond seemed to form between both of you, drawing you closer from mere acquaintances to individuals you could trust with your deepest emotions. Only a few had ever witnessed each other's vulnerable state.

In the present, you noticed his breathing had calmed, and the hazel eyes that had been watching you carefully moments earlier had closed as you finished tending the last cut.

Gently smoothing out the crease between his brows, you couldn't help but wonder how troubled he must have been. “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you,” you whispered, afraid of him hearing your secret.

You had tried to shield yourself from future heartache after you slammed his front door the day he had spoken harshly. Yet, seeing him so vulnerable, your caring for him only deepened.

Listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing, an unexpected exhaustion washed over you like a tidal wave.

Sleep claimed you swiftly, and it wasn't until you felt Zayne's gentle touch on your shoulder that you awoke.

“You’re going to strain the muscle in the back of your neck sleeping like that.”

Still groggy from the unplanned nap, you couldn’t protest as Zayne easily deposited you to the space he occupied earlier, as if you weighed nothing.

Your skin flushed hot feeling his fleeting touch behind your knees. Blinking, you met his gaze as he settled back beside your feet on the bed, already looking much better than before.

As the heat from his body permeated the wool blend of his pajama pants, you could feel it warming the tips of your toes. “Are you feeling any better?”

He nodded, casting a glance down at his arms adorned with scattered adhesive strips. Awkwardness filled the air as you both grappled with the ever-present unresolved tension.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled softly. You looked up, startled.

"I'm sorry," he repeated more clearly. His hazel eyes, appearing browner under the dim lighting, seeking yours. "For saying those hurtful words to you, for failing to accompany you on mourning day."

Your eyes widened, surprised that he even remembered about the day that had occurred months earlier.

When he didn’t appear at the cemetery of fallen hunters on mourning day, an annual tradition to honor your late partner whom he couldn't save, you learned just how much he cherished his childhood friend.

While he hadn't explicitly promised to join every year, he had always done so without fail. At that time, you couldn't help but feel disappointed when you discovered he had spent the day with his childhood friend instead.

And perhaps, an ugly thorn of jealousy had begun to bloom inside your heart.

"Greyson gave me an earful after he found out about our... conflict, and then he pieced together why I was absent that day. Why didn’t you remind me?”

You broke away from his gaze, not prepared for the sudden query. “You are under no obligation to accompany me, so there's nothing to apologise for."

"I absolutely have to apologise, for on the day you mourn for your late partner the most, I callously had fun with my friend."

And there it was, his childhood friend once again stealing the spotlight in your conversation. You felt the barriers you erected creeping back into place.

"It's getting dark outside, I should head home," you said, retracting your legs and hurriedly standing up.

However, a warm hand on your wrist carefully pulled you back down, knee bumping with yours.

"I was ensnared by my memory of her innocence from our childhood," he confessed, voice heavy with regret. "She envied the deep connection we share and after overhearing your conversation with Yvonne, purposefully suggested a day trip to our hometown that exact day. She exploited my weakness for her gain, knowing my fond memories of our past together."

Zayne tenderly unraveled each of your tightly clenched fingers, soothing the nail marks that had etched into your palm.

It was one of your bad habits, surfacing whenever anxiety and stress took hold. Ever the observant person that he was, it was something he was well aware of.

Your breath hitched as he wove his fingers with yours, larger palm easily covering your smaller one.

"I'm the one who foolishly let myself be blinded and stooped so low, wrongly accusing you when your intentions were nothing but good-hearted." He swiped a hand over his face in frustration. “People praised me for my good judgement, but I evidently failed to make the most important one."

“And so this happened?” you gestured towards his arms with your other unoccupied hand. “Punishing yourself because you felt guilty for your lapse in judgment?”

She had heard bits and pieces of what happened from Greyson. The Chief Psychologist in the hospital had noticed Zayne’s peculiar behaviour for weeks—moments of zoning out and evident emotional distress.

Not wanting to jeopardise his patient’s health, he agreed to take a leave until he felt mentally prepared to return to his responsibilities, which required a clear mind above all else.

"No, it's me losing myself because I've taken advantage of the only person who understands me; to the extent of hurting that one person who, despite knowing her for a shorter time, has selflessly always been there for me." He placed a kiss on the back of your hand. "And fearing I may have already lost her, as I come to realize the depth of my feelings for her."

You whipped your head to fully face him, face flushed at his confession. His gaze unwavering, trapping you with fierce affection.

“You don’t need to say anything—”

“Zayne—”

“I just want to let you know that I’m sorry for causing you pain—”

“Zayne, I—”

“And I would understand if you don’t want to do anything with me again after everything that’s happened—”

"Zayne!" You moved to cover his mouth and lost your balance in the process, tumbling together onto the bed.

Him beneath you.

As you stumbled, his hand found the curve of your hip, supporting you from falling on top of him. While his other arm remained thrown over him, fingers still intertwined with yours amidst the sudden movement.

You could see him trying to mask his discomfort, no doubt feeling some of the deeper slashes being tugged.

"God, you really need to shut up sometime," you blurted out, catching Zayne off guard with your abrupt remark following his heartfelt revelation.

This close, you could see his pupils dilating at your close proximity, almost consuming the green in his eyes.

With profound confidence and a fuzzy feeling spreading inside your heart, you eased his mind. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The content smile painting his lips tugged at your heart. It was a genuine happiness that chipped away his usual cold demeanor.

He squeezed your hip and slowly urged you to lay on top of him, a silent invitation to be closer. Strong arms circled around as you nestled your head against his throat, enveloping you in his scent—grounding, and slightly musky, like the scent of a forest after rainfall.

“I never want you to lose control of your Evol over me again,” you warned him, eyes closing as you felt his lips pressing on your forehead.

“I can’t promise, but—” he interjected before you could interrupt him. “I’ll work on myself for the better. It’s the least I can do for the one who holds the dearest place in my heart.”

When you opened your eyes again, you could finally pinpoint that familiar glint in his eyes, the one you noticed when you confronted him hours earlier in the living room; it was endearment.

As you lay down on his bed that night, fingers gently combing through his tousled midnight-black hair as he rested against your chest, it dawned on you that the glow of affection had been there all along, subtly shimmering in his eyes throughout the years whenever you were by his side.

#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #hurt/comfort #fluff

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whetstonefires · 2 months

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Honestly the most interesting thing about the Jiang interpersonal dynamics that is being totally slept on is how Jiang Fengmian's power as head of the family affects everyone, including him.

Yu Ziyuan knows Jiang Fengmian won't use his power against her unless he feels like he needs to, and that he doesn't fear her and isn't going to feel like he needs to act in self-defense unless she attempts significant physical harm, so short of that she can do whatever she likes against him, and he won't resist.

But if the collateral damage to the kids of her verbal attacks on him goes above a certain level, he says one word and she stops.

He just goes, 'wife.' ('My lady' but it's just a polite term for wife.) Sort of disapproving. Same kind of way he talks to Jiang Cheng when he acts like a shithead, but without the subsequent attempt at an ethics lesson.

And bam. Momentum halted. That line of attack is out of bounds. Nobody likes this, but good god it works.

And because they both know he ultimately has all the power, that Yu Ziyuan's lifestyle of privacy and doing exactly as she pleases at all times and so forth is all something that exists by Jiang Fengmian's generosity and sufferance, and she hates it, and he's not comfortable with it either, he sets that boundary really high, and she gets away with all kinds of cruelty because it's all stuff she's strictly allowed to do, entitled to do. So he'd be abusing his authority over her, by constraining her right to exercise her power within normative bounds over the people she outranks.

Even if she's using it harmfully and in a way directed by spite, these are her rights, she's not technically abusing her power, and her primary target in all the episodes he actually witnesses is him who outranks her; she's not being one of those mistresses.

So he'd be overstepping if he tried to constrain her, he'd be one of those husbands. Just like she always accuses him of.

(This is why she keeps insisting that she's also the master of jiang sect and he's 'forgetting' that in contexts where it doesn't make a huge amount of sense.)

Anyway, the fact that it's impossible to unpick where Jiang Fengmian's moral principles stop and his conflict-avoidance kicks in with this relationship is so much more interesting than the weirdly sexist readings I keep seeing, where it's all the conflict-avoidance and he's an unmanly loser who lets Yu Ziyuan bully him and his kids without ever standing up to her, for no good reason. When actually they have a really interesting and fantastically realistic toxic relationship.

He has a good reason! His reason is he's uncomfortable with the patriarchy! And guilty that his wife is miserable! And that he doesn't love her correctly! So he gives way as often as he can, trying to fix it!

But it doesn't fix it, because no amount of giving in to her gives her cause to trust him, and if she doesn't trust him and she knows that if he actually cares about an issue her ability to get her way will disappear, she can't feel secure about any of it. And therefore everything, especially Wei Wuxian the symbol of that fact, makes her angry and Want To Punish.

#hoc est meum #mdzs #yu ziyuan #jiang fengmian #jiang family #i am OBSESSED with them #meta #marriage #gender #character meta

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simphornies · 2 months

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can you make a vox x pregnant! fem! reader?? i just feel like he’d be over the moon for a baby, and i think the baby would almost look like an adroid? like not a whole tv screen, but a digital face almost like “^-^”

A/N: This is so cute! I enjoyed writing this a lot <3

Word count: 748

Spoiled [ Vox x F!Reader ]

“Vox, honey. I’m fine!” You laughed, walking away faster just for Vox to teleport in front of you.

“Y/N! Let me carry you both to our fucking room god damn it-Please?” He begged.

“I gave birth almost a month ago, my legs are going to be okay, Vox. I promise.”

Vox had been paranoid during your whole pregnancy, serving you like a princess and keeping every single demon away. You would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the extra love and attention. As soon as you gave birth, Vox nearly crashed the entire city down but held it together the moment he heard the cries.

He looked at you, smiling sweetly with the baby in your arms. Everything inside of him softened as soon as he saw it. The baby had his eyes, his claws and everything else was yours. Seeing you hold his baby in your arms so delicately and carefully with such love in your eyes made him fall in love with you all over again. He promised you the entire world.

He didn’t let you walk anywhere, insisting that you need to be carried wherever you need to go. It doesn't matter how far or how close, he will swoop you and his baby up and take you. You didn’t want to get accustomed to being spoiled rotten and you certainly didn’t want your baby to grow up entitled so you would sneak away sometimes, which would give Vox the craziest heart attacks as he frantically searched everywhere for you. As soon as he would find you, you would be scooped up without a second thought and brought to your destination. Anything you needed, anything you asked for, anything you wanted, craved or even said you liked? You would have it that instant.

The same went for his baby, his spawn. He was nervous about being a father, nervous that he’d somehow mess it up. But all of his worries melted away into nothing the moment he held his child. He knew he would fight for this baby. Any time he heard a cry, he’d be there in a snap, panicking about what’s wrong. You helped him soothe his worries by helping him learn how to take care of a baby. He learned how to differentiate cries. He constantly had a list of everything the baby needed on one of his many screens.

Velvette surprisingly adored your guys’ child. She enjoyed dressing them up in the cutest outfits and showing them off whenever she got the chance. Valentino was a different demon around the baby. He didn’t know how to react to the crying as well as everyone else did, basically just holding them away at arms length with panic on his face. He tried bringing them to one of his shoots when he was babysitting to which he got three hard smacks upside the head from you, Vox and Velvette.

Your child was spoiled all around.

Vox constantly cuddled up to you and your guys’ baby. He spoke so softly, caressing her with gentle hands. The baby turned out to be an android like you but definitely took some of Vox’s traits. One night, the two of you were having cuddle time before you had to put your baby to bed. Vox had his finger trapped under his baby’s hands and to his surprise, he felt a little jolt. A little shock. You both blinked at each other. Vox’s grin grew wide when he realized the baby got his electric powers. He was over the moon, gently swinging the baby around and peppering kisses all over their face.

“Y/N! My powers transferred over! Oh this baby is going to be the strongest little overlord Hell has ever seen!” He said, voice full of pride and joy. You smiled and hugged him arm.

“The strongest.” You gave Vox a kiss, “And we made that. Thanks to you mostly.” You winked at him.

“Oh hush. You knew what you were doing that night. With your hot, sexy, li-”

You smacked him lightly before he could continue. “Not in front of the baby! Quit that!”

He laughed, “Sorry sorry!” He gave you a kiss on your nose, “I think it’s time to sleep for this little one.”

“I’ll go put them to sleep.” You take the baby out of Vox’s hands but not before Vox could give them another kiss. “And then you and I have some catching up to do.” You winked.

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel valentino #fluff

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works-of-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Just a Lousy Racing Driver || Pierre Gasly x Reader

Summary: Pierre shows the reader just how little he cares about her mother’s opinions of him.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: 18+ unprotected sex, swearing, some badly translated French.

a/n: I have been writing this for weeks on and off because I’ve been strangely busy! Pierre is sort of an entitled rich boy in this, but we can forgive him. I’m not the best at writing smut but I hope you enjoy this regardless.

“My Mum hates you.”

“Good.” Pierre smirked, his hand wandering from your waist to your neck. Your back arched against the wall as you revelled beneath his touch, feeling his warm fingers lightly grip at your skin. He could feel your quickening pulse under his thumb which only encouraged him further. “What else did she say?”

His grip tightened on your neck as his spare hand pushed your hip harder against the wall. You gasped, his fingertips skimming your ear. “What did she say?” He repeated, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered closed momentarily as you struggled to gather your thoughts.

“That you’re a lousy racing driver – “

“And?” He leaned into you, pressing a lingering kiss to the skin just below your jaw.

“You don’t deserve the money you make.”

His laughter vibrated against you, making you squirm and clutch tighter onto his shirt. His mouth latched back onto your neck, kissing and sucking to leave a flurry of little red marks.

“The money I use to take care of her daughter?”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he pushed his knee between yours to separate your legs. You resisted the urge to jump up and wrap them around him, as you chose to savour every second he spent pressed against you, his hands and mouth exploring your body.

If any other man said that to you, you’d probably push him away and give him an earful for being obnoxious, but the terms were different with Pierre. Since your very first date, he’d completely spoiled you, showering you with gifts and surprising you with romantic gestures. He always made sure you had exactly what you wanted, as well as needed, and never let his girl miss out on anything. You weren’t exactly materialistic, but he insisted on pampering you and treating you to anything you desired, so how could you refuse?

Pierre’s pursuit of you wasn’t an easy one. He tried for months to get you to agree to a date, but you were stubborn to say the least. You’d heard of his reputation, and you had to be sure you’d be more than just another escapade before you finally said yes. He tried to charm you with the idea of lavish dates and expensive vacations, but you assured him you couldn’t be bought. You played hard to get which drove him crazy and only made him want you ten times more.

The truth is, Pierre was trouble; trouble you weren’t sure you could handle at first. You had the type of friends and family who’d always guessed your type from a mile away, but Pierre didn’t fit into the norm. He was a cheeky, charismatic F1 driver whose face was all over the media every other weekend. He was the kind of guy who only taught you the bad words in his language, so he could whisper them in your ear before each race and leave your mind reeling for Lord knows how many laps. As your mother had put it, he was bad news.

Pierre’s jeans rubbed against your thigh, the friction burning your skin and making your knees feel as if they could cave in. He released his grip on your neck, only to bury that hand in your hair and tug at the roots. “I suppose, for the sake of your reputation with your family, we shouldn’t be together.” He purred against your cheek, his stubble scratching you and hot breath fanning your ear.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t.” You spoke, finding the confidence to bring your hand up to his hair, pulling his head back so he’d face you. “But, how could you possibly risk losing me?” You leaned forward, ghosting your lips over his. He tried to steal a kiss but you moved back too fast, smiling at him.

“You are such a fucking tease.” Pierre groaned, enjoying the feeling of your fingernails against his scalp. He’d grown accustomed to having your hands in his hair, whether it was during cosy nights on the couch in front of the fire, or humid nights in hotels around the world with his face buried between your thighs. You certainly couldn’t deny your love of the latter.

Pierre overpowered you once again, grabbing the hand from his hair and pinning it above your head. He held it there with his left hand, gripping your wrist and pressing it against the wall. You wriggled beneath him, mostly on purpose to see how he’d react. You liked it when he was rough with you, restraining you and touching you wherever he pleased. Every piece of you belonged to him and you loved being able to satisfy his every need. He responded just how you liked, gripping harder and pushing himself as close to you as possible. You smiled, earning a knowing look from the Frenchman. “What do you want?” He asked, his free hand cupping your cheek softly, a stark contrast to his fingertips digging into your wrist above your head.

“J'ai envie de toi.” I want you. You whispered as he lifted your chin with his thumb, his gaze meeting yours.

“Hm? You have to speak louder, mon amour.”

Pierre liked to tease and make you beg, and you both loved and hated him for it. All you wanted was to throw yourself forward and kiss him, but his firm grip kept you from moving. Even so much as a twitch made him hold on tighter and raise a brow at you as if to question why you were challenging him. He was often in control, but was always focused on your pleasure before his own. The two of you had once spent an entire morning in bed, Pierre giving you a string of orgasms with his mouth and fingers until you physically couldn’t take it anymore. He’d carried you to the bathtub and washed you afterwards, your body feeling limp and admittedly rather sore. He took care of you like you were the most fragile thing on this Earth, and held you as you drifted back to sleep in his arms, still wrapped in your towel.

“J'ai vraiment envie de toi.” I want you so bad. You spoke up, Pierre’s lips hovering over yours. A smirk spread across his face, as he reached down with both hands to grab your hips.

“That’s better.” He turned you around, pressing you against the wall. Your cheek was cold against the wallpaper, but you barely noticed as Pierre’s hands hiked up your dress, leaving it bunched around your waist. “Shall I take my time with you? Or are you ready for me now?” He slipped his right hand between your thighs, two fingers immediately finding your clit through your underwear. Your body jolted forward and you tried to support yourself with your hands on the wall. Pierre let out a chuckle behind you, his left hand smoothing out your hair. “Do you want me, baby?”

“How many times are you going to make me say it?” You whined, desperate for him to touch you more and not just through your clothes. For a moment he considered teasing you a little longer, but he himself could not deal with the anticipation. Soon his jeans were around his ankles, and he palmed at his hard, aching cock through his boxers, his other hand clumsily tugging at your underwear. You reached down to help, but he grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand away.

“Leave them on.” He demanded, looking down at the thin baby blue lace he’d grown to love. You couldn’t remember exactly why they had become his favourites, but you took immense pleasure in wearing them beneath skirts and giving him a sneak peek in places you shouldn’t. You knew exactly how tonight was going to end when you crossed your legs with exaggeration at dinner, parting them just enough so he could catch a glimpse of the blue he loved so much. Pierre had to resist every urge to clear the table right there and bend you over it. He’d enjoyed the mental image of your body pressed against the wooden tabletop, your hair splayed out and sticking to your cheeks as he pounded into you, making the table legs shake as well as yours. He only wished the hotel room had a table just like it so he could act out his fantasy.

Pierre leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your upper arm. “Leave them on whilst I fuck you.” He whispered, pushing them to the side so he could get a better look at you. Your skin was flushed and slick with arousal, the sight making his cock twitch impatiently. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He said in awe, his middle finger teasing your wet cunt. His touch was needy, but still gentle. Your moans bounced off of the wall, echoing around the room and bringing music to Pierre’s ears. He loved the sound of you, whimpering and moaning for him to touch you, to claim you, to fuck you so hard you saw stars.

Pushing his underwear down, you felt his cock spring free and press against your ass. You whimpered, grinding your hips backwards to get more friction and to give your boyfriend a bit of a show. He looked down, his breath caught in his throat as he watched your hips draw circles against him. He loved that you weren’t shy, and you enjoyed this just as much as he did.

“This is what you want, hm?” He asked, wrapping his hand around his cock and pressing against you harder. You nodded, arching your back forward to encourage him.

“Don’t make me wait any longer.” You purred, reaching behind and ghosting your fingers over his shaft. Pierre’s eyes fluttered closed, the soft touch sending a cold rush throughout his entire body. He did as you asked, grabbing both your hands and pushing them firmly against the wall so he could get you into the perfect position. An excitable giggle escaped you, and he smiled as he dug his fingers into your hips and teased your eager pussy with the head of his cock.

He couldn’t wait a moment longer as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, his size stretching you out and filling you up. Your hands slipped down the wall, but he was quick to reach forward and grab you. Pierre linked his fingers with yours, carefully thrusting into you as you got used to the feeling. You closed your eyes and hummed in pleasure, the two of you making the same sound in unison. “You feel incredible.” He whispered, kissing your hair. You loved the mixture of rough versus gentle Pierre. It was no secret that the man knew how to fuck and have you screaming his name, but he also knew how to caress you, talk you through it, and make sure you were comfortable throughout. His soft kisses and careful words made your heart sing, and you swore you couldn’t love him more if you tried, yet you were proven wrong every day.

He kissed you again, a moan disappearing into your hair as he bottomed out inside of you. You gasped, feeling his hot skin against your ass before he drew back to then push straight back into you again. His hands latched back onto your hips, pulling you onto his cock as his movements grew faster. He looked down to watch, to see you wrapped around him so tightly, leaving his cock wet and glistening. You didn’t even have to see him to know he was enjoying the view, his fingertips digging harder into your skin as he grunted with every buck of his hips.

Pressing your hands firmly against the wall, you drove yourself up to stand straighter, reaching back to wrap your arm around his neck. His mouth immediately connected with the skin behind your ear, gentle kisses contrasting with the passionate, deep thrusts that had your heart racing and sweat pooling between your thighs. You gripped onto the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging lightly to encourage him. “Are you trying to be rough with me, baby?” He teased, his tone mocking yet in the sexiest way. “Because I can be rough if you want me to.”

Pulling away, you turned around to face him. Your faces were both flushed with desire for one another, and Pierre’s white shirt was slick with sweat. You started working on the buttons, your fingers trembling as you were well aware of him gazing down at you. He watched your hands, those dainty manicured fingers undressing him like they had hundreds of times before. He’d never get tired of surrendering to you and your touch, feeling your fingertips brush against his chest as you made your way down button by button. Since the very first time you’d offered to unbutton his shirt, he’d come to prefer it. To him, there was nothing sexier than watching you take your time with him, exposing as much of him as you wanted and studying his body with those pretty eyes of yours. He loved belonging to you, just as much as you loved belonging to him.

Finishing with the last button, you grabbed both sides of the shirt and pulled Pierre closer, standing on your tiptoes to reach his face. “Show me what you can do.” You whispered, earning a groan from your partner as he pulled off his shirt and guided the two of you towards the bed. As you walked backwards, you unzipped your dress and left it on the ground, and Pierre shook off the pants that were still wrapped around his ankles.

The backs of your legs hit the bed frame and you tumbled back, head landing on the mattress. Pierre grabbed your legs, hoisting them onto the bed in front of him, finally slipping the blue lace off of you. The sight of you with your legs spread and gaze fixed upon him drove him crazy, and he found it almost impossible to decide what to do with you first. Climbing onto the bed, he wasted no time plunging inside of you once more, making you gasp and your body twinge at the delicious pain of your pussy stretching around him. You wrapped your legs around him, using your feet to pull him closer and feel more of him. Pierre moaned, gripping your ankles and placing them on his shoulders.

He gave you a look as if to ask for permission and you nodded quickly, linking your ankles behind his head. He rolled his hips forward, his cock hitting you at a deeper angle. You tried to stay focused on his face, but you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing your eyes shut as his thrusts quickened. Each of your staggered breaths overlapped one another as Pierre leaned down to connect his lips with yours. You opened your mouth for him, his tongue hot and desperate against yours as the sounds of your skin slapping together grew louder. With both hands on either side of your head, Pierre hovered over you, his thrusts slowing but growing more aggressive, the tip of his dick hitting that sweet spot inside of you every time. Your hands roamed his body as well as your own, every slither of skin scorching hot to the touch. He watched as your right hand edged towards the bottom of your stomach, fingertips toying with the idea of exploring further.

Lifting your hand to his mouth, he sucked on your middle and forefinger, running his tongue along the front of them. He released them with a quiet popping sound, and you admired how his saliva moistened your fingers. “Touch yourself, baby.” He coaxed, his hands returning to their former position. You followed his order as he dropped your legs back down to his sides so you could spread them more. You slipped your fingers between your folds, your body twitching at the first touch of your clit. You were sensitive, swollen, desperate for friction. Drawing circles, you moaned loudly as Pierre attempted to match your rhythm.

You threw your head back, eyes gazing at the ceiling as he continued to pound into you, his lower stomach clashing with the back of your hand. “That’s it, Y/N. Keep going.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your knee. You couldn’t find the words to tell him how good it felt, but he already knew. He could tell by the way your cunt clenched around him. It was almost like he could feel your pulse beating against his cock.

“Pierre, I - “ You stammered, forcing your head forward to look at him. He could see it in your eyes, how close you were. Your fingers moved quicker as his thrusts grew shallow, while remaining the same speed.

“Keep those eyes on me. I want to see you when you come.”

You used to feel nervous having Pierre staring down at you as you touched yourself. Something about it made you feel more exposed than anything else, and you’d often close your eyes or look down at your own hand to distract yourself. But that didn’t bother you now. You fixed your gaze on him, rarely blinking as you rubbed your clit quicker, applying more pressure with your fingertips, growing closer and closer. His name exploded from your mouth as you came, legs shaking and toes driving into the sheets below. Once your hand was out of the way, Pierre leaned down, his chest pressing against yours as he kissed every inch of your face and neck. With one hand cupping your face, and the other gripping your hip, he buried himself inside you and groaned as he came, his entire body stiffening then collapsing on top of you.

He pulled out and moved to the side so you could go clean up if you wanted, but you stayed put. A warmth dripped out of you and down your inner thigh, and you smiled at the feeling. Silently, with nothing but the sounds of your breathing in the room, you took Pierre’s hand and pressed it between your legs, letting him feel his own cum spill out of you. He made a sound that confirmed his agreement, that he thought it was just as hot as you did. The two of you laid there as you caught your breath, before turning to face each other. His face was flushed and pupils dilated, and you were pretty sure you probably looked the same.

“Je t’aime. No matter what.” Pierre whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too. No matter what.”

“Even if your Mum hates me?” He raised his brows, making you giggle.

“Oh especially if my Mum hates you.”

#f1 x reader #f1 fics #f1 oneshots #formula one fics #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

For the “I love you” prompts, maybe Eddie x Fem!Reader for overheard? Can lead to fluff or smut :) I was thinking Reader overhears Eddie, but whatever works for you! - @munson-blurbs 💚

AN | Buckle up for some angst! 🥺🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie Munson’s face had been pulled into a deep frown the entire evening. Well - it hadn’t been… until he’d spotted you. It wasn’t you per se, but it was the guy you were with; a tall, dark haired and objectively handsome guy.

You’d told Eddie you couldn’t hang out with the gang because you had a test to study for. He hadn’t expected a test to come in the form of a man, but then again, he thought bitterly to himself, he wasn’t studying at the local community college with you so perhaps he had no clue.

Steve clocked his shift in mood immediately and gently nudged Eddie’s side, catching his attention, “what’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to commit an actual murder.”

“Nothing,” he hissed through gritted teeth, shaking his head as he tried to keep his cool, “‘m fine, Steve.”

Steve made a small, noncommittal sound before following Eddie's line of sight and immediately realizing what the problem was. There you were, looking all pretty and happy, and very clearly on a date. On a date that wasn’t with Eddie. Oof.

“Eddie-”

“It’s fine, Stevie,” he promised but the heartbroken look on his face suggested that he was anything but okay, “she’s entitled to date whoever she wants.”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Nope,” he sighed lightly, “but I’m not surprised. Things have been different since…”

Since you’d broken up with Eddie.

“Hey,” Steve gave Eddie’s shoulder a reassuring little squeeze, “it’ll be okay - things will be better soon. It’s still kinda fresh right now.”

“Doesn’t seem to be affecting her,” they both watched as you laughed, shoulders shaking from your giggles and a big smile on your face. You looked genuinely fine, “she just moved right on.”

“Eddie-”

“It’s whatever,” the curly haired boy insisted but Steve wasn’t buying it in the slightest. But all he could do right now was be there for his friend, however he needed him, “c’mon, the girls wanted to go and get ice cream.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You liked Eric, you really did. He was nice in an authentic way, not overly preppy or anything else and you’d met him in one of your economics classes. He’d asked you out but hadn’t made you uncomfortable or anything else. So you’d said and by now had gone on a few dates with him. And they’d all been lovely and he made you laugh and he made you feel special and he’d only kissed chastely a few times.

Realistically, he would have been the perfect boyfriend. If only you hadn’t been so hung up on your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend. Eddie.

It was almost laughable considering you were the one that had broken up with him. But your intentions had been good…you’d thought anyway. And yet it still hurt so much. You could barely stand being around Eddie because of how much you still loved him. Regardless, you figured he’d move on and find someone better, someone that loved him as he should be loved eventually. You would just have to learn to deal.

You paced around the room as you waited for Eric to pick up the phone….half of you was hoping that he wouldn’t pick up at all. But you just wanted to get this over with. Just when you thought it would ring out, he picked up, “hello?”

“Hey,” you were almost whispering as you twirled the cord with your fingers, “it’s just me.”

“Hey just me,” he teased, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Umm,” you paused for a moment, “listen, I want to be straightforward and honest with you. I really like you, but…I- ugh…”

“Can’t date me,” he finished for you and to your surprise he didn’t sound rude or upset, “I get it. I kinda had a feeling.”

“It’s not you,” you cringed at how bad that sounded out loud, “really. I’m just…not over my ex as much as I thought I would be and I don’t want to do that to you either. So…yeah.”

“It’s okay,” he promised kindly, “I appreciate the honesty and to be honest in my own way, it sucks because I think you’re great. Maybe we can still be friends down the road if you want.”

“I think you’re great too,” and you meant it, “thanks for understanding.”

“Anytime. And who knows - maybe things will change between you and your ex.”

“Maybe…”

But you highly doubted Eddie would ever want anything to do with you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Was a house party really going to clear your head and get your mind off of Eddie? You doubted it but according to Robin and Nancy it was worth a try. So here you were, clutching a lukewarm beer in a red plastic cup at the house of some guy you all sort of knew. It wasn’t great, but at least you were thinking about something else…even if that something else was how gross and sweaty the people around you were.

You finished off your beer before finding Robin and grabbing her hand so she would follow you to the kitchen. It was a slight reprieve from the commotion in the other rooms and you let out a long breath. Robin mirrored you before the two of you exchanged a small giggle.

“This is terrible,” you groaned as she nodded, “can we get out of here and just go home and have a movie marathon?”

“Only if there’s pizza,” she suggested as you nodded happily, “then it’s a deal. I’ll go and grab Nance.”

“I’ll get Steve,” you’d spied him going out to the backyard earlier and decided to look for him there. He’d had the right idea of getting out of the packed house anyway. You pushed through the throng of people before squeezing through the sliding glass door and making it outside. You let out a long sigh of relief at the feeling of the cool air on your skin, “Stevie?”

You spotted what you were sure was his figure around the corner, and walked towards him. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you realized that someone was with him. You leaned against the side of the house in an effort to hide yourself as you now hoped he didn’t hear you. You were nosey - it was only natural.

“C’mon,” you knew that was Steve’s pleading voice; these days it was often reserved for the young kindergarteners he taught, “just one time, what could be so bad. One date won’t hurt.”

“I’m not interested,” Eddie/ That was absolutely Eddie’s voice. You stiffened at the sound but didn’t move to leave, “can we please just drop it?”

“She’s really interested,” you wondered who she was, a shiver of jealousy running down your spine. Although you really had no room or reason to be jealous, “she’s a nice girl - she’s one of the admin assistants at the school office. I kinda talked you up to her and she said she’s love to go out. We could even do something like a double date.”

Ugh, Steve. He was your friend - and Eddie’s - and you knew he only wanted the best for you both. It made sense that he would want Eddie to perk up. It still stung though, kinda, sorta.

“Stevie,” Eddie sighed heavily, “I’m not ready and now’s just…not a good time.”

“It’s been three months, Eds.”

“I know,” you blinked away the tears that had started to prickle up. It was your fault - you were the reason he was still heartbroken, “but it just…still hurts.”

“At some point you’re going to have to let go…”

“I can’t just do that!” you heard him groan in frustration, “it’s not that easy.”

“Eddie-”

“I’m in love with her,” and oh. That made your heart constrict. You slapped your hand over your mouth in order to keep from making any sounds out loud, “I’m still in love with her, man. I can’t just get over her. I don’t think I ever will. She was everything to me.”

“I know it hurts-”

“But I guess I meant nothing to her.”

And that right there, broke your heart more than anything else. He thought you didn’t love him, that he hadn’t been the best thing to happen to you. Like he was just some guy. He couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“That’s not true,” Steve insisted softly. At least he knew, “she loved you - she still does.”

“She moved on very quickly,” he scoffed, “I might as well be dead to her.”

You couldn’t listen to this any longer, your heart breaking with every word. You wiped away your tears before running back inside and moving to find Robin. You found her with Nancy, the two of them making out in the kitchen.

“I gotta go,” you squeaked, trying to keep from totally falling apart, “‘m gonna go home.”

“What about movie night?” the girls exchanged a nervous glance at your sudden upset appearance, “babe-”

“‘s okay,” you lied, “I just…I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”

And you rushed out, ready to go home and cry yourself to sleep. But it was well deserved because you felt like the worst person in the world.

Then you remembered - you didn’t even have a ride home, “fuck.”

But you weren’t about to go back and ask for a ride. You were too stubborn and foolish to do that. Instead you’d walk back to your apartment. Even if it was a stupid thing to do.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were about halfway home when you heard a car on the side of the road. It was slowing down and you were immediately on edge. You refused to look, hoping that whoever it was would get the hint and leave you alone. But then the car stopped completely, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing.

“What are you doing out here!?” you knew that voice…you just hadn’t expected to hear it again. Not so soon, not like this, “are you insane? It’s dark and late at night.”

“Eddie?” you turned your tearstained face towards him and both of you froze. His expression softened slightly and you sniffled, “what are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he rubbed a hand over his tired face, “Robin and Nance said you left the party in a hurry and you were crying. And you didn’t have a ride home. Knowing how stubborn you are, I figured you’d just walk home. So - here we are.”

“But…I don’t understand,” you shook your head softly, wondering if this was some sort of dream your mind was conjuring up in order to make you feel better, “why? Y-you hate me…you should.”

“Because I wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he whispered, a conflicted expression in his eyes, “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

“Eddie…” fuck. He missed the way his name sounded when you spoke it, “I’ll be okay. Just go home and I can walk the rest of the way. I don’t want you to go out of your way for me.”

“Not happening,” he insisted, the boy just as stubborn as you, “get in the van and I’ll take you home.”

You looked at him, long and hard, so many things that you wanted to tell him, “really, it’s okay.”

“It’s not a choice,” he held his hand out towards, motioning you towards him. You were shocked that he was still being so kind and gentle with you. He was way too good for you, “baby.”

You both realized his blunder at the same time and you opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, “I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m really, really sorry.”

“For what?” his voice cracked, on the verge of tears as much as you were.

“For breaking up with you,” you whispered, almost inaudible, “for making you feel like I didn’t love you. For making you feel like you weren’t good even. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. I just…I wanted you to know that. You deserve to know that.”

“You say that, but you still broke up with me,” he shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was no big deal. But you could see right through him, “so. It is what it is.”

“I…I did,” you agreed, “the worst mistake of my life. But that’s neither here nor there. Just I wanted you to know that it wasn’t you at all.”

“Mistake?” Were you completely deluded or was that a bit of hope in this voice? You nodded, “you moved on pretty fast…I saw you with that guy last week. When you said you couldn’t make it to movie night because you were studying.”

“To be fair, we had studied earlier and then decided to go out,” you said meekly, “that was Eric. We went out a few times…but I ended things with him a few days ago. It wasn’t anything that serious.”

“Why?” he swallowed thickly, “you seemed happy.”

“Eric was a nice guy,” you admitted, “but he wasn’t for me. And I told him that I wasn’t ready for anything. Because I, umm, I was still trying to get over you.”

“I don’t get it,” he sighed softly, “you broke up with me. Why? Why did you really do it?”

“Because I didn’t want to hurt you!” you blurted out, and he looked at you in surprise, “I…Eddie, I just never wanted to be the one to hold you back from anything. Never wanted you to have to be anyone different than who you were. I feel like we’re so different and I never wanted you to have to change or just, deal with me. Because you deserve everything and I don’t know if I could give that to you. I-I thought that one day you’ll meet someone who deserves you.”

“You are…” he shook his head before taking a step closer to you, “such a stubborn, wonderful little thing. I’ve never once thought of any of that. I love that we’re different - we’re different but still get to be ourselves. I love all the things that you do even if they make sense to me or whatever, because you love them. And I love you. I’ve already met someone that deserves me - you.”

“Eddie-”

“I’ve never once thought you’d hold me back,” he promised, “if anything, I thought it’d be the other way around. We always support each other - that’s never going to change. I love you and I always will.”

“You don’t have to say that-”

“I mean it,” he put his hand on your face and gently stroked his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “the last few months without you have been the worst ever. I just want you. Everything else we can figure out. We’ll always figure it out together.”

“I…you still want me?” you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, “even after I…broke your heart?”

“I will always want you,” he leaned in, face so close to yours. You could just lean in a little and you’d be kissing him. Even if we did break up for a bit. I love you. That’s all that matters.”

“I love you, Eddie,” you let him lean in and kiss you. Softly, more of a gentle brushing of lips than anything. But that was all you needed right now.

“I know,” he grinned, that wonderful magic smile stretching across his features, “c’mon, let me take you home, princess.”

“Okay,” you let him take your hand in his, threading your fingers together, “will you stay?”

“Do you want me to?” he asked, nervous that somehow you might change your mind.

“I do,” you squeeze his hand gently, “I don’t ever want you to leave.”

“I won’t,” he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “I won’t ever leave.”

“Good,” you nodded, throwing your arms tightly around him, “I won’t ever leave either. I love you.”

“I love you too, princess.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader

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merakiui · 2 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/744520913494671360/azul-who-was-spoiled-as-a-child-so-he-believes?source=share

Mera are you not going to elaborate 👀 on how,,,, absolutely entitled tako would be with his not so subtle complex and also riddle who deserves this okay? This is all he's truly ever wanted and by golly he will see it through to the end! He can get through any trial or tribulation so long as he can put it in you

And ofc the tweels are soooooo sex brained that ur opinion doesnt even matter, they dont even have to justifying themselves bc there is no justifying- they want you? They got you!

ACTUALLY........ now that you say this, my thoughts can be expressed more succinctly!!!!!

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, non-con, brief mention of slut-shaming, obsession, everyone is just really horrible here)

Azul's mother and stepfather who know their son could do no wrong, so they're shocked and appalled when you start accusing him of something so disgusting. How dare you accuse him of such a horrible crime! He would never! Your parent(s) sits down with the Ashengrottos to discuss and hopefully smooth things over. Azul is so sickeningly sweet and cordial throughout the entire thing while you look scared out of your skin. You insist he's lying, that you're telling the truth, that this is what happened. But then his stepfather threatens to take the matter to court. He knows the law. In the end, you're forced to drop it because your family can't afford a trial right now.

On your way out, Azul smiles at you. Even at twenty-something, he's still their spoiled brat. So entitled! Because he got everything he could ever want from his mother when he was a child, he automatically assumes he'll have you without any problems. But you just had to reject him in elementary. You just had to make a fool out of him in front of the class. It's your fault he couldn't have the one thing he's always wanted. But now he's so much better than his past self, and this time he's not taking no for an answer.

I think it would be a similar situation with Riddle. His mother refuses to believe her son could do any wrong, and the fact that you—some slut who shouldn't be near her Riddle to begin with—have the gall to throw around such wild accusations... You must have been raised so poorly to forgo basic manners and social etiquette. Riddle apologizes profusely for causing such trouble, but his story isn't the truth. You watch him lie to his mother's face and she believes him because he's Riddle Rosehearts, the paragon of pristine perfection. Of course if you and your parent(s) continue to press the matter, Mrs. Rosehearts will threaten to sue and when you're up against the Queendom of Roses's most renowned magical doctor with her prodigious son who could never do any wrong... Surely it's impossible from the start.

Riddle does feel bad. Somewhat. Deep down he knows it's wrong, but he's never had anything special before. Everything has always been chosen for him. He's never had friends. He's never had any hobbies. He's never had a life. And when he saw how radiantly you would shine while passing through campus with your group of friends, he just had to have you. You're like those forbidden strawberry tarts from his youth. He knows it's bad, but he can't help wanting to indulge even if it breaks rules. He's been so good. Surely he's allowed one treat! If it makes you feel any better, he was just as anxious as you were when he mixed that stuff into your drink.

And the twins... oh, the twins. >_< terrible. Their mother babies them incessantly. In canon, it's noted that she tends to call them frequently (nearly every day) because she worries. So she absolutely spoils them rotten. Those are her babies; of course she will! Papa Leech is just as adoring, I'm certain, but then I feel like his love is more of a "tough love" type. In any case, the twins won't accept the word no because they're so used to just getting things. Those sturgeon scales they proudly wear? Those were won through a fight. They want and then they take. It's simple.

So the fact that you'd tell either of them no... Unheard of. All of Floyd's smiley pretenses drop when you reject him. Jade can keep up his own placidity, if only to give you another chance so that you won't whine about how unfair it was in the aftermath: "Would you like to think more carefully about your decision?"

Whatever happens, you can't say or do anything. No one's going to speak ill against the Leech family. They can't. That's just how it is.

#twisted chit chat #tw: noncon

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willalove75 · 10 months

Note

Being Rebecca's partner /gf ( younger like Keeley ) and some of the boys flirt with reader. Both remain professional and hide their relationship but there's just something about a possessive strict rebbeca ...

Loveeee thisss!! Thank you so much for the request!💕💕

Warnings: Smuttt (idk how to write a possessive Rebecca without it tbh LOL)

18+ only Minors DNI

Tension was at an all-time high. Sitting next to Rebecca, you can feel the stress radiating off of her. All you want to do is wrap your arms around her, kiss her on the head and whisper words of comfort into her ear. When she glances over at you, you know that's all she wants too. But the two of you were in public and you haven't told a soul about your relationship yet, both of you agreed to keep it under wraps for the time being. Plus the season was almost over, neither of you felt the need to make the end of the season more chaotic than it was already about to be.

What was not helping the tension, or Rebecca's stress, was the fact that you were at an away game at West Ham. The team Rupert recently purchased.

Laying in your arms last night, Rebecca told you how nervous she was to go to the game, that she was anxious about seeing her piece of shit ex-husband again. Running your fingers through her soft blond hair, you reassured her that everything was going to be fine, and that you would be by her side, no matter what.

"Howdy boss, y/n!" Ted pulls both you and Rebecca out of your spiraling thoughts.

"Hello Ted." Rebecca says.

"Hey!"

"How 'bout the two of ya'll come in for the team mixer, West Ham and the boys are all getting acquainted with one another before the big showdown."

Exchanging glances, Rebecca reluctantly stands up and you follow the two of them inside.

It was noisy and pretty crowded, also unusual for the two teams to be getting together like this before a match, but you decided to not think much of it and followed Ted and Rebecca to the bar. Just before you reach your destination, someone pulls Rebecca away to introduce her to some people. She shoots an apologetic look your way and you softly smile back at her, letting her know it's fine.

Walking up to the bar, you notice a couple of West Ham players make their way up to you. You do your best to not pay them any mind, but they make it impossible when they try and talk to you.

"This game was going to be a breeze, but knowing there's gonna be such a gorgeous woman in the stands, I think I'm gonna have a hard time focusing." One of the players says, flashing you a million dollar smile.

"If you get distracted that easily, you're gonna have more problems than the match." You retort.

"Pretty and quick, that's a rare combination."

"It's only rare when you give off the energy of an entitled football player."

The boys around him erupt in a chorus of "ohhhh shitt!" and you laugh, making the football player talking to you laugh as well.

Rebecca hears the commotion and looks over, immediately spotting you in the middle of a group of footballers. Her eyes are locked on you, there's a bubbling of, something, in her chest that feels foreign to her. Anger? Stress? Jealousy? That last one resonated more than she expected, what she jeal-

"Earth to boss, come in boss!" Ted says, pulling her back to reality.

"My apologies Ted, what was that again?"

Surrounded by the boys, you had no idea that Rebecca spotted the interaction. The player talking to you leans in a little more.

"May I buy you a drink gorgeous?"

"You're literally about to go play football, you're gonna drink?"

"Of course not, I have morals!" He says with a laugh and you shoot him a look, eliciting another laugh from the group. "I will be drinking water, what will you have?"

"I'm flattered, but no thank you."

"Please," he says, taking your hand into his. "I insist." He lightly kisses your knuckles and you stand there in shock for a second, never expecting him to be that bold.

Hearing laughter erupt, Rebecca looks over towards you again and see's the footballer lean in. Her eyes narrow when she see's him take your hand and place a kiss on it. Never in her life has Rebecca's body tensed up so much, seeing someone else's lips on your skin set something off in her that she's never felt before. Looking at your face, she knows immediately that you're uncomfortable. Even though she was in the middle of a conversation, before her brain can catch up with her legs, she's walking over towards you.

Walking straight through the group of guys, she stands next to you, an intense glare in her eyes directed at the player that was flirting with you.

"Don't you have a match to warm up for?" She says, her tone is cold and icy. It's taking every ounce of self control she has to not wrap her arm around your hip and pull you into a deep kiss, claiming you as hers.

With fear in his eyes, the guy mutters "oh right, yeah we gotta go." and walks away, the rest of the players following close behind him.

You let out a sigh of relief and turn towards Rebecca, you're surprised to see the intense look that's lingering in her eyes.

"Thank you- are you okay?"

She takes a deep breath and tried to ground herself.

"Yes, are you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just the usual footballers acting like dogs. You sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I promise." She says, leaning into your ear. "Although it took ever ounce of self control I had to not show all of them that you're mine." She says with a low voice.

Your heart skips a beat and you feel your cheeks blush a bit.

"Well, that certainly would have been interesting, wouldn't it?" You joke.

"You have no idea."

"Rebecca Welton, I didn't know you were the jealous type."

"Neither did I, I suppose it's only when someone tries to take what's mine."

"Fuck." You whisper, your eyes meet hers. Her pupils are dilated just enough to know how sincere, and turned on, she is.

"I'm walking away now before I do something stupid." She says with a mischievous look in her eyes. She gives you a wink and walks back towards the group she was talking to before.

The players slowly leave and prepare for the match, leaving the room much emptier than before, although there's still a lot of people left. Walking around with a drink in your hand, you wander aimlessly, eventually landing by one of the windows and looking out onto the pitch.

Rebecca spots you from across the room and can't help but smile as she watches you gaze out the window. Her attention is pulled back into the conversation she was in and she turns back to the group.

You're not sure how much time had passed, since you ended up spacing out looking outside, but you're sure the match is going to start soon. Just as you're about to walk away you feel a hand wrap gently around your arm. Turning around, you find yourself face-to-face with no one other than Rupert Mannion, Rebecca's ex-husband. For a second you freeze, you can't stand this man. You're convinced that he's dedicated at least 75% of his life to trying to ruin Rebecca's - for whatever sick reason. Trying to keep your scowl at bay, you try and smile at him, hiding your distain.

"You must be from Richmond, there's no way someone so beautiful could be working at West Ham and get by me." He says, laying the charm on thick.

"Yes, I am from Richmond." You say, ignoring the last half of what he said.

"My name is Rupert Mannion, please, take a seat." He gestures to the two chairs near the window.

"Oh, that's okay-"

"I insist." He has a look in his eye that's telling you he isn't asking.

To avoid any more confrontation, you sit, trying to see if you spot Rebecca anywhere.

"I'm sorry, what was your name again?" He asks.

"Y/n."

"Oh yes, I've heard of you. You're one of the newer additions to the fine staff over at Richmond."

"Uh, yeah."

"So, y/n, tell me, what is it that you do?"

You begin to describe your job and what you do on a daily basis. The more you speak, the further Rupert leans in. If you didn't know any better, you would be smitten by his charm. He may be a bastard, but he's certainly a charming one.

"What a coincidence, we recently lost someone in a similar position here. You wouldn't be interested in it, would you? I can guarantee you a much higher salary here than you would be making over at Richmond."

"Uh, I appreciate the offer, but no thanks, I really like it over there."

Rupert lets out an obnoxiously fake laugh.

"Oh you're a funny one. Well at least think about it, for me." He says, practically batting his eyelashes.

"Uh-" The words suddenly disappear from your lips when he puts his hand on your knee, slowly sliding it up to the middle of your thigh. You freeze, not having any idea of what to do. Well, you want to scream at him to get off of you and run into Rebecca's arms, but that's not an option for a plethora of reasons.

"I would love to have someone as gorgeous as you in my office every day, y/n." He says, leaning in.

As if she has a sixth sense for trouble, Rebecca turns back to look at you and see's you with Rupert. Her jaw clenches when she see's him talking to you. Shifting her eyes down, she see's his hand on your thigh, coupled with the look on your face, she feels like every cell in her body is bursting with anger.

Walking away from the group, Rebecca makes it over to you in an instant. You're pulled from your frozen state when you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you up.

"Get your hands off of her." Rebecca snaps at Rupert.

"Rebecca, dear, how are you?" He says, glaring at her.

"Keep your hands off of my staff Rupert." She growls, pulling you behind her.

"Ah, always the protective one, must be that maternal instinct kicking in, isn't it?"

Rebecca's hand tightens around your wrist, that one had to have hurt, even if it was a little. She glares at him with an anger you've never seen before and Rupert puts his hands out in front of him, signaling he means no harm.

"Alright, alright, I was only getting acquainted with your new staff member, no need to get angry dear."

Rupert stands up and begins to walk away.

"It was so lovely meeting you, y/n."

Rupert walks out to the stands and Rebecca pulls you out of the room. Down the hall, she opens a random door and finds a supply closet, pulling you in, she closes the door and pins you up against it.

With her hot breath against your skin, your knees almost give out underneath you. Her pupils are completely blown as she stares down at you, a hungry look in her eyes.

"Rebecca-"

"Sh," she says, putting a finger over your lips. "those stupid football players I can deal with, but him, that fucking asshole, absolutely not."

"I didn't-"

"I know, trust me I know that was all him, but even still. You are mine."

Before you can even agree to her statement her lips are on yours, her tongue pushing it's way into your mouth. She kisses you rough and passionately, as if she'd die if she ever stopped. Her hands pull at the fabric on your body, pressing you into her as hard as possible.

"How I would love you take you bent over his desk right now." She pants as she kisses you hard. "But this will have to do."

Her hands travel to the waistline of your pants and she unbuttons them and pulls them down to your ankles along with your underwear.

Seeing her like this, so possessive, so protective, so hot for you, she didn't even need to touch you for the wetness between your legs to threaten to leak down your thighs.

Slender fingers find their way between your folds and you moan into her mouth as they circle your clit. Once you're stimulated even further and Rebecca's fingers are coated in your arousal, she slides two fingers into you effortlessly until she's knuckle deep. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite down on your lip to suppress the moan.

Rebecca begins to pump her fingers in and out of you, you know this is going to be fast and rough and the thought is only making your center drip even more.

"You are mine. All mine." She says as she fucks you. "Mine to do whatever I please with, mine to fuck wherever and whenever I want to."

Your nails begin to dig into her skin as she rushes you towards the edge, you won't last long, not with how she's fucking you and talking to you. She knows what gets you going and today she's pulling out every trick in her book.

"Say it, tell me you're all mine." She growls in your ear.

"I'm- fuck- I'm all yours, only yours, yours to do whatever you- ah! want with."

She picks up the pace and presses the base of her hand against your clit, grinding into it with every thrust of her wrist.

"You're such a good girl, letting me take you wherever I want. Watching those boys flirt with you, god I wanted to take you right then and there."

"Yeah?" You whine.

"Yeah, bend you over that bar and fuck you senseless."

"Oh fuck, Rebecca, I'm gonna-"

"Good girl, that's it, cum for me, I want you to cum all over my fingers."

She thrusts harder and curls into you, driving you right to the edge. You bite down on the collar of her blazer to keep your moans from ringing out into the building. Grinding down on her you clench and she shoves you over the edge into bliss.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your vision goes white. Your legs tremble underneath you, gripping onto Rebecca for dear life. She pulls the orgasm out of you for as long as possible before finally pulling her fingers out.

You fall into her arms, your body almost completely limp. She catches you and holds you tight, licking her fingers clean. Resting your head against her chest, you lay there for a minute as you catch your breath and come back down to Earth. Rebecca runs her fingers through your hair and kisses you on the top of your head.

"You were so good for me, thank you my love." She whispers into your hair, pressing another kiss into it.

Standing up straight, she holds onto your waist until she's sure you're steady on your feet. She pulls your underwear and pants back up, buttoning and zippering them again. Cupping your face, she brings her lips to yours and kisses you. This kiss is nothing like the last one, this one is soft, tender, filled with love. You kiss her back and wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her close into you.

When your lips part she fixes the collar on your shirt and you fix her blazer and wipe away the smeared lipstick from her lip.

"I should get you jealous more often, holy shit Rebecca." You say with a giggle.

"Don't play with fire my love, you'll get burnt." She says, placing one last kiss on your lips.

The match started by the time you got back to your seats, you got a few questioning looks from Higgins and Keeley but you both ignored them and sat down and watched the game.

Richmond ended up losing, pretty badly at that. Even though the match was lost, both you and Rebecca left the match satisfied in a much different way.

#willalove75 #hannah waddingham #rebecca welton x reader #rebecca welton #ted lasso #rebecca welton fanfic #wlw fanfic #ted lasso fic

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thechaoticdruid · 3 months

Text

[The Spawn Vs The Ascendant] (3)

Pairing: Astarion (s) x Tav

Plot: We get a look at Ascended Astarion and M! Tav's complicated past. Meanwhile in F!Tav's world, she has a close call with The Vampire Ascendant himself all the while Spawn Astarion and Karlach prepare to attack the Crimson palace.

Content/Warnings: MDNI, THERE IS SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER! M/m smut, oral and anal sex, I'll put some little red diving lines so you can skip it because it's not TOO important to the plot, but I just thought since y'all have been waiting forever for the next part I might as well treat you. Both a male and female Tav, alternate timeline shenanigans, Ascended Astarion is a toxic asshole as usual, emotional manipulation, verbal abuse, threats, etc, slight choking, there's also a lot of blood and gore in this part, lots of violence and action.

Part One

Part Two

Part Four

The Spawn Vs Tav Vs The Ascendant

[Savegame 2: Somewhere, A year post game]

Tav let out a sigh as he felt a cool breeze hit his face, the scent of the forest washing over his heightened senses. He could smell the blood of a deer who was leaping through the grass. He turned his head to look at it, tongue flicking over his newfound fangs. It had only been a year since his undeath, but everything had already changed so much.

The young vampire had finally convinced his master to allow him to travel outside of Baldur's Gate. Tav needed to get away from the city so he could enjoy the comforts of nature once again even though many of his fellow druids would sneer at what he'd become. An undead abomination. He was able to convince The Vampire Ascendant to allow him to leave their city, insisting that this would be a romantic getaway for the two of them.

They had left Baldur's Gate and used the fortune they acquired to purchase a lovely little holiday home on an island off the Sword Coast.

Their villa sat on the border of the ocean shore and the luscious woodlands that stood behind it.

Tav sat crisscrossed in the sand, the warmth of the sun danced up on his skin. He was quite fortunate to still be able to enjoy it, given what he was.

“Little Love, what are you doing out here alone?” His master's voice purred out.

“Just enjoying the peace.” Tav replied calmly. He didn't feel like looking his master in the eyes. Things had been distant between them now. Tav did his best to try and keep Astarion from turning Baldur's Gate into a slaughterhouse, but occasionally he slipped up, like with the incident at Sharess's Caress.

There were so many days he wished he could just go back and convince his love not to go through with the ritual. Then maybe the warmth they once shared wouldn't have gone out. But he'd been terrified at the time. They both had. Astarion was afraid of losing his freedom. And Tav was afraid so desperately afraid of losing him. If only he'd known he would have lost him anyway.

Now Astarion was the worst version of himself, all of his darkness let loose for the entire world to see. And Tav was merely a plaything that he refused to give up. The vampling’s red eyes blinked as his master’s clawed finger tilted his chin up to look at him.

“Pet, you know I don't like when you avoid me. It makes me so very unhappy.” The Ascendant pouted, making a painfully fake sad face. It made Tav’s blood boil. Tav jerked his head away from his master's touch.

“I am at your side day and night. You sit me on your lap every day like a glorified pup for all your guests to see. Am I not even entitled to my own space just for a moment!?” Tav suddenly snapped, fangs bared as he narrowed his eyes.

“You're the one who suggested this ‘romantic getaway’ and now you have the audacity to accuse me of not giving you space!? How dare you! You ungrateful little wretch!” Astarion snarled at him. “If you want your fucking space so badly I can arrange a nice dark cell for you back at the palace.” His master threatened.

“No….I-I…Please….I'm sorry!” Tav's face suddenly filled with fear. “….I'm sorry…. I'm sorry…I'm sorry…” Tav grabbed hold of Astarion’s leg, his head hung as he begged. Astarion glared down at him, his expression unimpressed.

“You will make this up to me.” Astarion tilted Tav’s chin back up.

“Yes. I will….I promise…” Tav nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Appeasing his master had become a regular routine of Tav's. He pretty much had it down to a science. Beg, grovel, flatter, pleasure, usually one or a combination of them would do the trick to calm the beast. Funny how Astarion seemingly had no regrets about turning Tav into the very thing he despised being for so many years.

The only saving grace was Astarion was far too possessive to share Tav’s body with anyone else.

“I love you Tav. I can't fathom why you're determined to make things so difficult between us.” Astarion pushed Tav down on the bed with one hand. The spawn frowned. His master's words felt empty despite how much Astarion may have believed them himself; there was little proof to back them up. Tav removed his shirt, deciding it would be best to just give in and lose himself in pleasure if only for a little while. He slid down his trousers and drawers, completely exposing himself in front of the other male.

Astarion lifted his own shirt up and over his head before discarding it to the side. He then climbed onto the bed and slowly straddled his spawn. He leaned down, getting very close.

“Kiss me.” He ordered. Tav leaned up and pressed his lips against Astarion's, wrapped his arms around his neck as his master began to grind himself against Tav's unclothed groin.

Tav moaned against Astarion's lips, letting the vampire lord slip his tongue inside. Astarion tastes Tav’s mouth, the flavors of wine and blood intertwining as their tongues dance. Astarion pulls back and pins Tav’s wrists above his head before slowly shifting down and licking the spawn’s nipples.

“A-Astarion!” Tav let out a whine, feeling the elven male teasing his sensitive buds, grazing them with his fangs all the while grinding himself down against Tav's hardening member. Astarion began to nibble and suck his way down Tav's body leaving a trail of bright red hickies as he went.

Astarion moved back, hand grasping Tav's cock as he licked his lips, looking down at his pet’s leaking tip.

“So hard for me already?~” Astarion teased gently, squeezing Tav’s length as he pumped it back and forth in his hand.

“Ngh!” Tav groaned and dug his claws into the bed. Astarion leaned down to lick up the precum dribbling down from Tav's tip, before slowly proceeding to begin sucking the younger man’s cock into his mouth. Tav's eyes rolled back into his head as he felt his master swallow his length with ease. Astarion’s hand moved to grab hold and massage Tav's balls as he bobbed his head.

Tav groaned and panted, resisting the urge to thrust into his master's mouth lest he gets punished for it like last time. Astarion pulled back with wet pop before rubbing Tav's cock a few more times and dropping his own trousers.

Tav's red eyes trail over his lover’s body as the silver haired male began to suck his fingers into his mouth, coating them thoroughly in saliva before he reached behind himself and stuck two fingers up his ass.

“Ahh…Ahh…” Astarion moaned, pumping his fingers in and out. Tav bit his lips, he could feel himself twitch at the sound of his master's moans.

Gods it sounded so heavenly. The pale elf continued to prepare himself scissoring before then shoving his middle finger in knuckle deep.

Once he was ready, he shifted over Tav's cock, grasping it and slowly guiding the tip to his hole.

Astarion lets out a low moan, an open mouth smirk forming on his face as he sits down, taking the spawn's cock deep inside.

“G-Gods….” Tav gasped, feeling his lover clench tightly around him. Astarion stared down at Tav, a pleased look appeared on his face as he noticed his pet squirming under him. Tav reached over to grab Astarion's hips, but the vampire lord stopped, gripping his hands.

“Tut, tut, tut, bad boy. You don't get to touch me.” Astarion clicked his tongue. “Keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise.” He ordered, before releasing him and placing his hands on Tav's chest. Slowly he began to move up and down, sliding Tav’s cock in and out of his ass.

“A-Astarion….” Tav whimpered, his nails gripping the sheets as Astarion kept up the same pace, bouncing on top of him. He eventually began to move up slowly before quickly slamming his ass back down on Tav's hips, making a satisfying slap sound and causing Tav to squeak in surprise.

“Mmmm…..You feel good inside me…” He lets out a breathy side before moving up and slamming back down. He could feel Tav's cock leaking, coating his insides, it made movement much easier. Astarion began to pick up his pace repeatedly slamming down on Tav with enough force that it almost felt like he was about to break his pelvis!

“Please…I..ahhh!” Tav cried out, looking up at his master with pleading eyes as his cock began twitching inside of him.

“What is it, pet? Do you want to move, hm?” Astarion pushed down hard against his lover, taking him in deep. He bit his lip, smirking down at Tav. “I…. might let you…” He said, playfully taking hold of Tav’s nipples and tugging on them.

“A-Ahh!” The spawn cried out.

“Say you're mine.” He said. Tav groaned as Astarion slowed his movement, hips sliding up and down at a much slower pace, the room was almost silent aside from the slick wet sound of Astarion riding Tav's weeping cock.

“Say you're mine.” The Ascendant repeated. There was no compulsion, no glow of red eyes, no force. Astarion wanted Tav to say it all on his own.

“I…I…I'm yours…” Tav breathed out, making his master grin widely.

“Again.” Astarion slammed himself down on Tav.

“I'm yours!” Tav said more confidently.

“Good boy! ~ You may move…mmm…” As soon as Astarion gave him permission Tav began to buck his hips upwards, cock repeatedly plunging up into his master's asshole. Astarion rode Tav in time, masterfully matching his pace. He grabbed hold of the back of his spawn's head, gripping his hair as he pulled him in for a rough, sloppy kiss. It took little time from there for Tav to reach his peak, especially with his master's ass threatening to break him.

The two of them relaxed for a while shortly afterwards until eventually Astarion had Tav pinned face down in the pillows, balls deep in his ass. However, the second round was eventually cut short by a disturbance in the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFW-END~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Masters! Masters!” A charmed servant called beating on the door to their bedroom. His face was full of fear, hands shaky.

There was some muttering, and scuffling coming from the other end of the door, before eventually it opened revealing Astarion shirtless in only his pants. Tav laid on the bed behind him, only a sheet covering his dazed form as he panted, body covered in his master's love bites.

“What the hells do you want!?” Astarion snapped, very annoyed by the interruption.

“M-My lord! Theres a-a…It's t-terrible.. I-I….” The poor terrified man.

“You have ten seconds to speak before I splatter your innards all over the floor.” The sliver haired vampire lord hissed out.

“M-Monster hunters! T-They're on the island! They're harassing the locals and burning down their homes in hopes to find you, master!”

“Determined little shits, aren't they? I don't quite care what happens to the peasants on this little speck of land, but they do pay me rent so...”Astarion sighed in annoyance.

“We have to help them.” Tav said, putting his clothes on and fixing his hair.

“Oh, not this again! You know your little hero act gets so tiresome, love.” Astarion rolled his eyes, “protect the cattle if you must, but my only concern will be slaughtering these vagabonds for even thinking about setting foot on my property.”

Tav kept quiet but glared at him harshly. The way he talked about the people on this island honestly made Tav's stomach turn.

“As you wish, master.” Tav said coldly, the title spoken with pure disgust. Astarion glanced back at Tav with a surprised look. Tav had never addressed Astarion as ‘master’ before. Astarion, despite all his arrogance, pride, and determination to remind Tav who he belonged to on a regular basis, had never once compelled or ordered him to to refer to himself as such. Mostly because the way Tav had always said the vampire lord’s name had been music to his pointed ears. Astarion quickly brushed off these sickening feelings. He was not weak any longer. Such sentimentalities were beneath him.

“Hmm…Perhaps I should put their heads on spikes, leave some of them impaled out in the fields to send a message to any of their brethren.” Astarion chuckled darkly. His ruby red eyes glanced back over at Tav who refused to look him in the eyes. It felt infuriating.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The roads ran red with blood, houses shot up in a blaze and a mother ran across the scene, desperately dragging her children along with her. Tav and Astarion slowly approached the chaos. Complete and utter horror flashed over the vampire spawn’s face. His undead heart breaks to pieces at the site of villagers being slaughtered all for the sake of killing two vampires.

“This chaos has to end Magnus!” An elven woman shouted at a human man. Both of them appeared to be amongst the monster hunters.

“There are children on this island for fucks sake!”

“They had their chance! These people are servants to the undead! They will suffer the same fate as their masters!!!”

“My love, please!” She begged, getting on her knees. “These people did not kill your brother! They're not in control of their minds! It's the vampire’s doing! You must forgive them!”

“Osha…I-I…” The man suddenly froze. He coughed, blood pouring out of his mouth before suddenly he fell flat on his face. Blood leaked from an open wound in his back as he laid in the dirt.

“MAGNUS!!!!” The elven woman shrieked in horror.

The silver haired vampire lord stood behind the man's corpse, a wicked grin as he held Magnus’s still beating heart in the palm of his hand. He slowly crushed it right in front of the elven woman, the blood dripping through his fingers before he licked them clean.

“Mm…Not bad.” Astarion purred.

“You…. YOU KILLED MY HUSBAND!” Osha screeched. Astarion looked back at her slightly amused.

“Oh, was that what he was? Apologies, he was making a mess of my things.” The Vampire Ascendant merely chuckled.

“I'll…. I'll KILL YOU!!” Osha screamed, grabbing hold of a wooden stake from her dead husband's body and rushing for Astarion head on. But before she could even make contact Tav moved in front of her and kicked her away with enough force to send her flying into one of the houses. Tav huffed before looking around at the villagers who were utterly terrified. Astarion blinked and looked back at Tav, a slight warmth flashing through his eyes.

He still loves me….

Before Astarion could say a word Tav ran off, unsheathing scimitars from his back and cutting down any monster hunter who dared to try and stop him. The elven monster hunter’s eyes follow him as she lays on the ground, seemingly broken and lifeless.

“Glacious!” He shouted, shooting an ice knife right at the nearby burning building before kicking his way through the door.

“Everyone out now!” He ordered. A mother pushed her daughters through the door.

“My son! He's still in his crib!” She cried and pointed over to a blocked door.

Tav quickly pushed past her and smashed his way through the blocked off door with vampiric strength. He quickly charged in and scooped up the baby boy, thanking the gods he didn't need to breathe any longer. Tav quickly came back out and handed the woman her baby.

“Thank you, my lord, thank you!” The woman said, tearing up. Tav gave a small smile before suddenly he heard the sound of crying coming from somewhere nearby. Tav rushed over to the scene. It was yet another smoking home.

“Glacious!” He shot another ice knife at the fire in order to put it out. Tav quickly rushed over, a look of confusion covered his face as he noticed the front door had already been open.

Inside was a little half elf girl with long curly blonde hair. The child knelt down by some debris, crying as a pair of motionless legs poked out from under it. Shaky sobs left her mouth as Tav moved closer.

“Come on darling, we need to get you out of here.” Tav said, kneeling down beside her.

“I'm not leaving without my momma!” She snapped; eyes puffy as she broke down into another fit of sobs. Tav shushed the child before placing a comforting hand in her hair and pulling her into a hug.

“It's not safe here, little one.” Tav said, “where is your papa?”

“He got sick a long time ago….He went to sleep and n-never woke up….” She sniffed.

“Come with me and I'll take you somewhere safe and we'll get you something to eat.” Tav eventually was able to convince the little girl to follow after him. He took her by the hand and guided her out of the house.

“What's your name sweetie?” Tav asked as he led her back through the village. He made sure to steer her away from the sight of any corpses in hopes to keep from terrifying the poor little thing.

“I'm Abigail.” She said softly, “momma used to always call me Abby.”

“Abigail is a beautiful name.” Tav smiled softly. He then suddenly heard footsteps and turned to see Astarion approaching.

“There you are, I was wondering where you'd run off to.” Tav’s master licked over the edge of his mouth, a little bit of blood dribbling down his chin. “And what's this? Have you brought me a snack?” Tav glared at the other male before protectively standing in front of the small child.

“No. Stay away from her Astarion.” Tav said sternly.

Astarion clicked his tongue, “lighten up. It was only a joke. Gods.” The pale elf sauntered over to his beloved spawn, glancing over his shoulder without a care.

“Pretty little thing…Perhaps this is just what we need.” Astarion smirked, an idea began to form in his mind. Tav's eyes widened, he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Astarion no! I'm taking her to an orphanage.”

“Love, don't be ridiculous. Think about how much better off she'd be with us as her fathers.” Astarion took hold of Tav's chin and made the shorter male look up at him. “Isn't that what you want? To have a family with me…?”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[Save game 1: Act 3, Crimson Palace.]

Tav bit her lip, holding back a whimper as gripped the wooden comb tightly in her hand. She needed to move fast before the vampire lord drank enough to weaken her. She held the comb high, preparing to plunge it down into his heart from behind but before she could make contact she felt a tight grip around her wrist. Her lover's look alike pulled back from her neck, his blood stained lips forming a frown.

“Trying to kill me already are we? Pity.” His grip around her wrist tightened, threatening to bruise. Tav whimpered, dropping the comb from hand and letting it clatter into the floor below.

“You honestly thought that dull piece of wood would actually stab me!? Ha! Desperation doesn't suit you my dear.” The vampire releases her wrist only to grasp her throat, not as tightly, but still firm enough to make her worry. “I don't want to hurt you darling, but I cannot have you misbehaving.”

“Let me go!” Tav shouted as Astarion stood, yanking her up by the collar around her neck. The Vampire Ascendant seemed to be keeping himself rather composed despite Tav's attempt on his life.

“Oh, I will, you'll go right down into the dungeon to think about what you've done.” Astarion hissed, dragging her out of the study. “Honestly, how can you be so ungrateful! I am giving you everything you could ever want!”

Tav screamed and fought as she was dragged down the hall like wild cat, eventually her survival instincts kicked in and she slung her head around and sank her teeth right down onto the vampire lord’s groin.

“FUCK!” He shouted and crippled down in pain, releasing his grip and Tav and allowing her to turn tail and run like her life depended on it. She darted through a door and quickly down the hall, spotting that strange half-elf girl, Abigail staring at her as she passed.

I need to get this godsdamned collar off of me!

Tav fled further into the palace hearing some footsteps as she came closer towards the ballroom. Swiftly she climbed into a wardrobe off to the side and closed the doors. Peaking out through the cracks as two figures approached. A glowing red eyed Shadowheart and Lae'zel entered the hallway.

“Source of my bruises, are you still in pain?” Lae'zel spoke up, placing her hand on the other female’s cheek. Shadowheart simply shook her head. It appeared the wounds their master inflicted on her had already healed. Tav calmed her breathing, hoping neither of them would detect her presence here. Thankfully however the two of them appeared more concerned with one another. Eventually the two of them walked off, leaving Tav to let out a long sigh of relief.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[Save Game 1: Act 3, Upper City.]

“Ooh looks like he's called some guard dogs to do his bidding.” Karlach said as she and Astarion stood onto one the of the nearby buildings adjacent to Cazador’s old palace.

“What is up with evil arseholes and always refusing to get their hands dirty?” Karlach huffed as she peeked down below.

“They’d claim It's beneath them, but truthfully it's all over calculated foolish paranoia.” Astarion looked over the side of the roof, eyes trailing over the large werewolves that stocked over the grounds.

“Does he honestly believe no one is going notice all his pets running around?”

“Well this is technically you we're talking about….What do you think?” Karlach asked.

“I would never have been this stupid! Perhaps overconfident, but this it just ridiculous!”

“Hmm…Maybe he just doesn't care if anyone sees them.” Karlach hummed, “oh wait did you remember to bring the bomb arrows?”

“Naturally.” Astarion smirked, pulling out an arrow and notching it slowly.

“Hells yes! Let's blow these fuckers up!” The tiefling cheered. Astarion quickly shot an arrow which flew through the air hitting one of the wolves right between the eyes. It exploded upon impact, splattering brains, blood and pieces of skull over the cobblestones.

“Gross. Do it again!” The tiefling barbarian’s tail swatted back and forth, eyes locked on the chaos below. The vampire spawn quickly notched another arrow and hit another wolf sending bloody severed limbs flying all over the streets. He then proceeded to shoot a couple more, clearing out the frontline security.

“That should give the others an opportunity to rush the front door. Now we just sneak in through the roof.” Astarion explained.

“Got it! Leave it to mama K!” The barbarian grinned before looking back at Astarion.

“Oh no, whatever you're thinking-”

“No time! We need to get in there and save Tav!” The fiery devil insisted before grabbing hold of the smaller elf, throwing his long slender body over her muscular shoulder.

“Karlach! Gods-dammit! Put me down this instant!” The little vampire hissed.

“We're coming, Tav!” She exclaimed, before backing up and rushing over the building leaping across the sky while Astarion clung to her wide eyed, fingernails digging into her like a scared cat.

The vampire Ascendant never would have guessed his windows would have been shattered by a big red beefy barbarian lady and a cat-like rogue, but here we are.

Note From TheChaoticDruid: I am so sorry for the for the wait! Honestly, I didn't really feel like too many people were invested in this story and 'This Bites' had really become my main focus multi-part fanfic wise. I'm hoping to finish up this story in about two more parts. The Spawn and the Ascendant WILL start showing down next part. Also, I usually don't add a little divider for my smut, but I felt like I just randomly decided there was going to be smut in this part (kinda spur of the moment thing), so I added the Nsfw heads up in case someone reading was not ready for it in this story. Please leave a comment or a reblog down below it really helps motivate me to write! See you guys next time!

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 months

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My brain is melty but something something “you want to bet on it?” Not exactly astarion and Tav but like. The rest of the camp talking about them?

Feel better soon!

A/N: This was actually a lot of fun! You didn't specify so I decided to go with Ace!Tav AKA Evie for this prompt. Hope that's okay.

Consider this a continuation of this headcanon.

Astarion x Ace!Tav (Evie) Masterlist

“You know what? I don’t think they’re fucking.”

Gale choked on his drink, following Karlach's eye line to a familiar corner.

Astarion and Evie had found their own little piece of no where, as was becoming habit with them at this point in the evening. Astarion had an arm wrapped about them and he whispered something in their ear, causing them to laugh. Astarion answered this with a playful nip of their neck which is right about when Gale averted his eyes. They were entitled to some privacy.

"My ears would beg to differ," he said, dryly. "I swear I didn't get a wink last night."

"Well that's just the thing innit?" Karlach pressed. "I mean, I can understand getting that riled up every now and again, but every night?"

"Astarion is a vampire," Wyll pointed out. "Even a spawn is liable to have higher than average...stamina."

Karlach let out a snort. "You read too much. Besides, even if that was true, doesn't stop E from being human."

"Why though?" Gale said. "What would be the point of pretending engage in such, ah...enthusiastic intercourse? I mean, we all know they're together. Why the extra show?"

"I would not be surprised if Astarion is putting on, as you said, an extra show," Lae'zel said. "He has boasted many times of his prowess in giving carnal pleasure. Not to mention, he likes to make clear what is his. Ravaging sex would accomplish both quite easily."

"Still doesn't explain E's half of all this," Karlach insisted. "It does take at least two, last I checked."

"Trust me, just two is enough," Gale grumbled. "If you want proof for yourself, I am more than happy to switch rooms."

"No good. I'm just below them."

"Oh for Gods' sake!"

"You've been oddly quiet, Shadowheart," Wyll interrupted, giving the cleric an assessing look. "Care you share your thoughts."

Shadowheart shrugged, carefully setting down her glass of wine. "I don't see what more I have to add to the conversation. You all seem set in your opinions."

"And I am curious to hear yours," Wyll pressed.

She rolled her eyes. "I think you all are putting a lot of thought into something that is frankly none of your business."

That got Gale's attention as he turned to her suspiciously. "Do you know something?"

"Nothing of importance. Besides, weren't you the one who said that some personal matters should remain personal?"

"Certainly," Gale said. "But when they are shared so openly, they can hardly be considered wholly personal."

"Well, that clenches it for me," Karlach said. "They're not fucking."

"I would be inclined to disagree, although now, I'm not so sure," Gale said, his brow furrowed in thought.

Lae'zel gave an exasperated huff. "Is it common in this realm to over analysis something as simple as mating?"

"It's extremely common," Wyll said, with a smile. "I take it that means you think they are, mating?"

"Obviously."

"Would you put money on that?" Karlach said.

Lae'zel raised an eyebrow. "A wager?"

"Sure. Ten gold says if we open the door on their room tonight, they're doing something stupid like moving furniture. And if I'm wrong, that's ten gold for you and spit in my eye."

The gith's eyes narrowed, before giving Karlach a stiff nod. "A fair wager. Although, I do not think spitting in your eye in necessary."

"I wouldn't go that far," Wyll said. "Depending what's on the other side of that door, it may be very necessary."

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x evie #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #karlach #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #wyll ravengard #lae'zel #shadowheart #5 sentence fics #asexual!tav #ace!tav #bard!tav

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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 28 days

Text

"Everyone Loves Sylvie" A Sylvie/Loki Drabble

Oh no, Sylvie can't find the perfect place to have her perfect wedding! Just another wacky day in the life of the MCU's Strongest Woman...or is it?

Pairing: Sylki Content Warning: Sylvie may not be awesome enough in this, I tried! Word Count: a number

Optional Reader Participation: Every time an asterisk (*) appears, play THIS SOUND BITE

Mrs. Anita Aycock was doing everything she could to keep her calm around the irritable woman throwing brochures and paperweights, but my god was she putting a new definition on the term 'Bridezilla.'

"I don't understand it!" Sylvie said, flailing and pacing about the small, white office. "Why can't we have it at the park? Is it because they're afraid I'll do something incredibly strong and amazing in front of their oppressed human faces?" *

Mrs. Aycock shook her head. "Because your marriage is illegal in all fifty states." *

Sylvie's jaw dropped. "I resent that! How so?"

Mrs. Aycock began awkwardly fiddling with the long string of pearls about her neck. "Genetically you are...kind of the same and also not? Like, you're somehow both cousins and twins? We're pretty sure any offspring you have will need an exorcism at birth." *

Sylvie drew her sword and pointed it at Mrs. Aycock's skinny, wrinkly, not-powerful human throat. "I will turn you into a shish kabob if you don't schedule my wedding for the park!"

The woman had dealt with more evil, entitled, barking she-devils in her career than a Hollywood publicist. "Jesus, this is getting convoluted! The President said NO and that is FINAL!" *

Sylvie smirked. She'd managed to waste five minutes of the President's life while insisting that he burn the city down for refusing to allow two of the same person to marry one another. He responded by putting her name on an FBI Top Priority Threat list and telling her to get a dildo.

She was so awesome.

"Loki!" Sylvie huffed. "Have you NOTHING to say?"

"Well--"

"--shut up, Loki!"

Loki shrugged. "Yes, dear. I love you."

She smiled blandly, pretending to have an emotion. "Thanks. I love me too." *

The wedding planner needed a drink, or ten. "How about Alabama? They let anything get married down there!" *

Loki knitted his eyebrow.

"Shut up, Loki!" said Sylvie.

"I didn't even say anything this time!" *

Sylvie put her sword back into the sheath at her hip. "Call him for me," she demanded.

The wedding planner looked as confused as she was frightened for her life. "Who?"

"Al! This Bama Man, call him at once, if he is the only one with the sense to allow me to take ownership--"

"--marry--"

"--do you not know who I am?" asked Sylvie incredulously. "I am a modern woman-hero written by the Disney Corporation! We have NO feelings, NO flaws, and NO need for men! We don't need to train, or understand, or think we could ever be wrong! We' all emerge from the forehead of Zeus full-armored and ready to bust all the balls!" She stood on the table in exaggerated pose, while Ms. Aycock kneeled and kowtowed, her heart instantly changed.

"Truly you are the Son of God!" *

Out on the street, Sylvie walked tall and alert, while Loki minded the mandated seven-and-five-eighths-paces behind and kept his head down. Everything was going her way...but it wasn't going her way enough.

"LOKI!" She called suddenly, causing Loki to accidentally take an extra step forward.

"Yes, Sylvie?" he asked hesitantly.

"I want to stab something." She called, briskly walking ahead and not looking in the direction she was going.

"But my leg still hasn't healed--"

"Not you!" she said angrily, shoving a homeless toddler standing nearby. The lightweight lad careened across the sidewalk and landed in a garbage bin full of medical waste.

"Wow, that Sylvie is such a brave woman!" said the child's mother. *

The three-year-old's head popped up from the dumpster, a used cannula draped over his head. "I wanna be her when I grow up...if I live that long!" *

Sylvie was still stomping angrily into the street, sword out again, when a large black van nearly hit her, daring to go two miles over the speed limit, and running through a green light.

A young man of about 25 leaned out the driver's side window. "I'm so sorry, ma'am! I hope you're okay! The walk light wasn't triggered, and--"

She in her infinite heroic courage did not scream or weep. While the driver was asking for the state of her wellbeing, if he did, in fact, graze her, she drew the sword and impaled the front tire with it. It popped with a loud sound, and the air leaking from it made a high-pitched whistle. *

"LADY! What the hell?! I was going to the hospital!"

A woman leaned out the passenger window. "I'm in labor! I can feel his head crowning..."

Sylvie came around the other side and slapped the pregnant woman in the face. A loud baby's cry suddenly filled the car. *

"Oh! Honey!" the mother's mood suddenly changed as she held her beautiful newborn six-month-old. "Look what Sylvie gave us! Sylvie gave birth to our son!" *

The man looked straight ahead and questioned the validity of his existence.

Everyone on the street began laughing and clapping as Sylvie stood there, silent and proud, having saved the day again...somehow. Loki came up behind her with a lovesick grin, putting a leather dog collar around his neck and holding the leash out to his lady-half. "You're so amazing, saving the day again without doing anything introspective or civilized! Oh, look! Everyone loves you, Sylvie!"

Sylvie looked directly into the camera and smiled. "I know, I love me too!" *

Happy nothing-special-about-the-date-today!

TAGGIES: @acidcasualties @foxherder @fandxmslxt69 @fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @maple-seed @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @smolvenger @holdmytesseract

#marvel loki #loki #fanfiction #mcu #mcu loki #loki fanfiction #sylvie #sylki

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lookbluesoup · 1 year

Text

Hydaelyn in Endwalker

At the risk of looking stupid online I'm going to field my perplexions about Hydaelyn that've been bothering me for months lol This post is... a little Hydaelyn critical. But I do offer that in good faith, I LOVE the character and I'm not trying to just trash her, I'm genuinely interested to hear other perspectives about it. (But please be nice, everyone is entitled to their own take)

Also this is not in response to anyone else's post. I haven't even seen any Hydaelyn posts circulating lately. I'm not vagueing anyone or trying to start drama. Just trying to sort out my own feelings about this character.

So my main takeaway from MSQ was that love is, ultimately, what saves you. That humans (including Ancients!) aren't perfect, and cannot love perfectly, but the shared love of you and others is still what saves you.

And, also, that grief is a part of life. Mistakes are a part of life. Conflict and loss happen, but they need not destroy you. Stand for doing right as best that you can, forgive yourself and keep trying, keep loving - both yourself and others.

There was an incredible amount of emphasis on not judging or hating one's enemies, about accepting the humanity in all of us and coming together, which I really loved.

There was also, of course, a huge rejection of self-sacrifice and martyrdom.

I saw all those themes in the Dark Knight quests a LOT (especially before the English translation changed so many scenes), and I assume Ishikawa was continuing that theme from Shadowbringers onward.

So again! I don't hate Hydaelyn!

But I feel like... at least in the English translation, she is still treated with excessive reverence, like a goddess, by the Scions - even ones it didn't really make sense to after her origin came out, like Y'sthola.

And at least on my first playthrough, while I like Venat a lot and love the drama of the Final Days pushing everyone into points of desperation, to their breaking points, and her decision to sunder the world definitely did ultimately help (help!) make it possible for us to defeat the Endsinger... I dunno.

To me she was still subject to the same arrogance as the rest of the Ancients. Whether her decision paid off or not, she still took into her hands the fate of the entire Star, she still made a decision that would result in millions of deaths.

And if we're going by Hydaelyn's own assertion, that each reincarnation is their own person, not just a missing piece of a whole... then to achieve her goal of a better world, she killed all the remaining Ancients except those three.

She chose to create a world where death and trauma would affect generation after generation - and she can say that it was for the greater good, for the world to survive. But that was essentially the Convocation’s justification too, in creating Zodiark and orchestrating the Rejoinings. Committing genocide to prove that genocide is wrong… is not noble.

The cutscene with her sundering the world, where the people insist they'll return to a world free of sorrow underneath a burning sky, could also NOT be how it actually happened. It had to be representational of her feelings and conclusion. Becoming Hydaelyn took coordination with her followers and planning.

At least in English, idk about the original Japanese, Hythlodaeus's shade describes the time of the Sundering as if the world wasn't in utter ruin at that point. It was beginning to heal, they had restored some natural systems, but the Ancients were short in numbers. At that point, they were done sacrificing their own people, in time they were going to sacrifice other life - plants and animals, to restore those lost brethren.

At the very least, Hythlodaeus's completely different account shows that the two sects of people post-Zodiark were viewing their sacrifice and end goal in completely different ways. Ethics aside, whether the competing goal was achievable or not… we will never know, because Venat stopped it from happening.

But I don't think either recounting has a monopoly on the truth. There was no One Truth, there were just competing needs and perspectives. And though Venat insists that unity is necessary to avert the Endsinger - she perpetuates this division. Azem refused her followers call to help summon Hydaelyn, and I think that's significant.

But I'll also acknowledge that Azem didn't manage to save the Ancients, either.

And you could argue that the Ancients were their own worst enemy. They kind of were.

Hermes was a really, really great caricature of severe, untreated Depression. And he had the powers of a god. His creations were sent to find a specific answer in the world beyond, and like their creator, they didn't have the tools to process hearing an answer other than what they were expecting. They were trapped in their own perspective. He was looking for answers in the stars, instead of in himself. Their own pain and inability to engage with emotion in a healthy way overwhelmed every encounter they had and created the very reality he so feared.

He did not use the proper channels for peer review before sending them out on their mission. Those rules, those checks and balances, that community approach to design, existed to protect the Ancients from their own power, and he deliberately acted in secret. He isolated himself from society, convinced himself his pain was something nobody could understand, made an island of himself and doubled down on his own jaded beliefs.

I don't know what kind of mental health facilities were available to the Ancients - we just don't have that information. But I do know that he was treated with patience and forgiveness by a significant number of colleagues, and his quirks weren't held against him. People did try to help and accommodate him, even if they didn't always understand. He had been promoted to a powerful position. I don't know if it's fair to blame anyone in particular, or even their society, for what happened. Because again... everyone was doing the best they could with what they had.

If anything, the problem was that literally any Ancient could have made a similar mistake in the right situation. They were ALL that powerful. Eventually chaos would happen. Sundered souls can certainly create destruction, but not on the same scale.

I don't personally agree with Hydaelyn's decision not to reach out to the Convocation. I understand being careful, and thinking through what the next step should be before acting. But there's a LOT of "maybes" in this argument:

And ultimately, it's her doing the same thing as Hermes, putting the power of judgement over an entire people in her own hands. She's assuming that she is in a unique position to decide the fate of the entire Star. It's not evil. But it's arrogant. She wasn't special among the Ancients, gifted with some unique wisdom. She was doing the best she could from her own perspective.

Plus... if half your population, and then another half again are about to sacrifice themselves... what have you got to lose by outing Hermes and/or trying to work with the Convocation to avert that loss of life? We don't have all the details, I'm willing to accept that there were circumstances that made it impossible, or at least made Venat decide against trying it. But even so. What did you have to lose leading up to the summoning of Zodiark? There was already panic and destruction at that point.

Hydaelyn sacrificed a lot of people to accomplish her goals. She made a goddess of herself and manipulated people like Minfilia on that basis. She killed so many children and stole so many lives even just by reincarnating Minfilia over and over on the First. She misrepresents the nature of the Ascians to the WoL, keeps secrets, and essentially charges you with being a crusader in her Holy War.

It's Emet- Selch who tries to bridge the gap. Not Hydaelyn. It's him who's willing to consider trying to achieve his goals without bloodshed, if you, the WoL, are strong enough. He says this to himself, out of anyone else's hearing. There's no reason for it to be a lie.

And just before Mt. Gulg, you can see Emet starting to question his beliefs about humanity because of the WoL's accomplishments. Hydaelyn has nothing to do with that. It's all you. And Emet succumbs to his own weaknesses too, so we never get to know what that might have happened if you'd had more time with him. He's not better than her.

But I think it's significant that he's the one who reaches out. Who's willing to consider a compromise at all.

In war you make sacrifices, I get that. But she was not more heroic, somehow, than the Ascians. Both sides were doing terrible things and denying the agency of mortals in order to achieve their ideal world.

So to me... she was not a benevolent incomprehensibly wise mother figure. Much like in real life we go from being kids who trust our moms implicitly, to adults who realize our mother was human and made mistakes, I think we’re supposed to recognize that Hydaelyn didn't do everything right and its our job to carry the future forward for subsequent generations, to learn from what came before, and hope that our own children do the same and forgive us for our own mistakes.

I think its very important to note that the WoL is just as much the Convocation's creation as Hydaelyn's. Without being rejoined as many times as they were, the WoL wouldn’t have survived. She saves you from the Ultima Weapon, Emet-Selch saves you from Elidibus, and its their powers combined that save you and your friends from the Endsinger. You are the legacy of each side’s imperfect love, equally.

WHICH brings me to my point of perplexion. Hydaelyn continues to be venerated. NPCs who know what happened continue to emphasize her side of things. I feel I must be missing something, because to me, the finale of Endwalker essentially shattered any idea that this was a Light vs Dark kind of story. People made choices. People made mistakes. It wasn't good or evil. It was human. We survived in spite of our mistakes because love was more powerful than our imperfections.

The Scions sacrificed themselves one by one just like the Ancients. And got brought back using energy from the Star... not all that different than what the Ascians had planned to do with their own brethren. I just don't see much functional difference there in the sentiments between either side.

I don't think we're supposed to hate Hydaelyn. I don't think she was evil. But I don't think she was better than the Ascians.

So while I don't expect, or want, characters to be condemning her left and right in the narrative, it's still baffling to me that there's such consistent, explicit reverence for her.

#ffxiv #ff14 #hydaelyn #venat #emet-selch #ascians #ancients #meta #shower thoughts #long post #endwalker spoilers #dark knight spoilers #shadowbringers spoilers #text

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zoe-oneesama · 1 year

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Hello, Zoe! I can't believe there's only four episodes left of SL. I see you recently finished Frightningale. The next is I believe Malediktator. I would love top hear your thoughts of the episode.

Lord have mercy, this episode wasn't good when it came out and only got worse with hindsight:

There are two big, huge stinkers in this episode. Chloe's "arc", which got covered in even more mold over time, and Adrien.

My thoughts at the time (and I know because I went back and FOUND my thoughts) was that this episode would've been a good START for Chloe's redemption..but it was the Finish. So it sucks.

It had all the elements. Chloe being Chloe:

Pretending to be Ladybug just to sing her own praises as Queen Bee

Making her Important Historical Person Project about herself

Getting insultingly defensive when called out and doubling down despite how obvious her lie is

Focusing on Marinette telling her she's not a hero despite the rest of the class being just as "mean" about her time as Queen Bee

Her over the top demands of a disproportionate punishment for the slight by crying for Daddy to shut down a school and banish Marinette from the city

Having an over the top tantrum when she doesn't get her way by declaring she's leaving the country despite her father being on his knees, begging her not to go

Making an over the top announcement of her departure under the delusion that her going to live in New York will somehow negatively effect her former classmates

Her continuing to lie about the circumstances of the akuma to Ladybug herself, only trickle truthing after being pressed multiple times

And in the conclusion, flaunting her ridiculous wealth to not only her peers who were doing something nice for her, but to her best friend who was genuinely upset at her leaving.

Chloe being Chloe. Chloe being a liar, a bully, a spoiled princess who only cares about what SHE wants.

And in this episode she breaks the one person who was always in her corner, even more than Sabrina - her father. As far as a redemption arc goes, that's probably the best way to start things, because this is the guy who'd drop everything for her, bend heaven and earth for her whims, who abandoned his dreams of being a movie director to instead become Mayor to get the power and money to take care of her (at Audrey's insistence). And she broke him. Left him, just like her mom left them both before.

In another universe, maybe this would be the thing that broke Chloe, that finally made her look inward and realize that the call of toxicity, negativity, and entitlement is coming from inside the house. She is the one who makes people around her miserable, and in turn, herself miserable, because it makes no one want to be with her, it makes no one like her.

Realizing this, vocalizing this, and doing something about this could've been a good start. She can be rewarded for being vulnerable and open and taking responsibility by being given the Bee Miraculous and being allowed to fix things, which could start her wanting to fix things without a Miraculous. Thus, a START of her redemption arc.

But as I noted back then, and as I note now, this isn't the start. It's the finish.

All this vulnerability about not being liked and hurting her daddy's feelings and feeling worthless comes after info-dumping about her Sad Mommy issues which were pretty much resolved as soon as they were brought up THANKS TO HER SWORN ENEMY MARINETTE, and after she picked up a Miraculous and kept it for herself, and after she abused that power to CRASH A TRAIN to try and win herself clout. So I'm sorry that I don't care that Chloe "deserves a second chance" or that "maybe Queen Bee will make her a better Chloe" after she almost killed people to show off for Mommy.

The big finale says "Well Chloe's sad so maybe she could possibly be good, though only when it directly effects her." She can't even muster a goddamn thank you for the party, they didn't even pretend she was going to change.

And that's where hindsight makes this even worse. I clocked this as a failed start when this episode came out, but adding on top of that the next two seasons where she unofficially joins the villain's side makes this even dumber.

The episode does the usual shtick of Somehow Blaming Marinette: she feels bad for telling Chloe she's not a hero, she feels bad for celebrating her leaving, she gives HERSELF partial blame for Andre being akumatized. Well, I don't blame her, show. In fact I'd say she's pretty justified.

For one, what did Chloe do as Queen Bee that was heroic? Try to crash a train to get credit for stopping the crash, which she couldn't even do, and then being akumatized? How about the fact that she found this Miraculous and didn't return it? Or let's look wider and assume Marinette wasn't even talking about just Queen Bee: What has Chloe done that was heroic? Oh one time she kinda helped with Despair Bear - oh wait but she also CAUSED that akuma so it kinda cancels out.

Chloe's not a hero. She could be, she has all the resources, she just isn't because she doesn't want to be.

And why should Marinette feel bad that Chloe's leaving? Adrien says she left angry and upset, but she seemed pretty content when she was throwing out fliers from her helicopter and announcing it to the whole school in one last hurrah. Play me the world's smallest violin. After TWO SEASONS of abuse from this whiny little rich girl, why shouldn't Marinette be happy for herself? Happy that she won't have to worry about her property being vandalized? Or work stolen? Or relative's career sabotaged? That next year she doesn't have to dread going to school because there's no chance Chloe will be in her class? Why WOULDN'T she throw a party over that?

And in what universe is Marinette to blame for the akuma that she didn't even come in contact with? Just because, as usual, Chloe decided to blame Marinette for all the backlash she rightfully got even though Marinette was the last one to say something? Just because her classmates agreed with what Marinette said, and Chloe got weirdly fixated on Marinette, and Chloe took it out on her father, it's somehow Marinette's burden and blame for Maledictator? Sure Jan, that'll hold up in court. The mental gymnastics to even blame a twice removed party...

And all of it is for naught. Marinette sees a vulnerable side of Chloe and gives her a chance as a hero and throws her a party to celebrate her "accomplishment" as Queen Bee because "Being Ladybug made me a better Marinette, maybe being Queen Bee will make her a better Chloe".

Well guess what. It didn't. It inflated her already massive ego and gave her another thing she felt entitled to that she didn't earn and led to the mother of all tantrums when she was told multiple times she wouldn't be getting her way, leading to Marinette losing Fu as an ally. All the self flagellation, all the bowing to Chloe's ego, all the hoops Marinette went through to make Chloe feel better did nothing to help Chloe change into a better person, so all it is is a waste of time and teaching Marinette a lesson that ends up blowing up in her face. It was frustrating back when this episode came out to see how unearned it all was, and now it's extra frustrating because you know how pointless it all was. All the deliberate audience manipulation for a complete non-starter.

SPEAKING of frustrating to watch, I believe I promised you TWO big stinkers in this episode.

Get back here Adrien, I'm barely even started with you. How fucking dare you come in here and lecture anyone about treating Chloe badly? I don't care if Chloe was your friend when no one else is, that doesn't invalidate the happiness everyone - and I mean EVERYONE, including teachers, your classmate, and your own Best Friend - was feeling at her departure. Good for you that she was a warm body to stand next to in your childhood years, but what kind of criteria do you even have Mr. If We Made Eye Contact We're Friends?

Because you haven't shown us that she was a good friend. Hell, you haven't shown us YOU were a good friend! If you were so concerned for her, why didn't you go after her when she left in a huff? Why didn't you text her or try to convince her to stay? Why didn't you stop your class from pointing out her bullshit when she gave her duplicitous presentation? Why NOW is your only move to berate her number one abuse victim (next to Sabrina) and then sulk in the corner like a dark cloud trying to ruin everyone else's good time?

Why aren't you NOW going after her or texting her? Why are you still at this party? Why aren't you lecturing any of your other friends about what they're doing? Why why why?

(Logistically it's so Marinette and Adrien are on the outer rim of the party and don't get hit by Maledictator's command spell to destroy the school, but literally since when has the show cared about logical reasons for the two to get away from a crowd?)

You know what sucks? This episode was fun until Adrien opened his big mouth. Everything was fast paced and melodramatic and over the top and fun - and then party pooper Adrien has to call everyone TeRriBlE despite ALL the terrible things Chloe's done over the course of this series RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM.

And because the writing is poor and doesn't want to actually challenge Adrien in any way, they have Marinette call Chloe "useless" when that is literally the least of her problems: a bully, a brat, selfish, spoiled, vindictive, manipulative, a liar, self centered, delusional, I don't know, just plain fucking MEAN. If Marinette stuck to any of these things that Adrien couldn't refute, maybe we could've had something INTERESTING here. But instead they gave him a near strawman just so he could refute ONE THING "bad" about Chloe instead of confronting the fact that his childhood friend was and is a shitty person.

Maybe on top of Chloe realizing something about herself, we have Adrien realize the nature of their relationship: that he's so conditioned to accept her and his father's crap that he's even conditioned to be uncomfortable when anyone ELSE challenges their crap. That he's put unrealistic expectations on his other friends just because of his own coping strategy against the people in his life that constantly take advantage of him. That it's unfair of him to expect other's to just shut up and put up with unfair treatment just because shaking the status quo makes him kinda nauseous. Just, you know, if they wanted to do something INTERESTING for once.

Maybe this could've where Adrien realizes that not only do his friends deserve to be treated better, but so does he. That by not invalidating his friend's feelings, he can stop invalidating his own. It could be a first step to him overcoming his people-pleasing nature and begin his own arc about taking charge of his life, maybe eventually leading into him taking control of his portion of the plot, MAYBE leading him into being an actual deuteragonist in this series instead of the semi-damsel love interest.

If Adrien would've been made to actually face the fact that the person he grew up with was a garbage person, maybe he'd take some time to look at his dad differently, or Nathalie, or even his own mother and try to see them from a different point of view. A view where he realizes he deserves better.

But instead he manages to guilt trip the only person in the room who wouldn't have challenged him so badly that she actually gives the cruelest person she's known a freaking Miraculous and throws her a celebration party for doing ONCE the thing she herself does on a daily basis with no accolades. And it was aaaaaaaall worthless.

Or should I say "useless"?

#malediktator #maledictator?#I'm so lost on the spelling the wiki says 'dik' but dictator is spelled with a 'c'#malediktator salt #chloe salt #adrien salt #writing salt #I'm probably going to throw in another intermission between 'Frightningale' and 'Malediktator'#just cuz this is where we start heading towards a finale

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blacklesbothatlovestowrite · 12 days

Text

On My Mama Pt. 6

Tags: @mixedfandxms @shurislover @lppriceisright @sweetalittleselfish-honey @desswright29 @cutttteeee @onyxstones-world @katymae12344 @doramilaj233 @sweetalittleselfish-honey @6-noir @khara876 @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @teadah18 @un-deniable-me3 @goolishh @anayaperry @undercover-introvert @delightreadsfics

“Yo, ya’ll be doing too much.” Riri grumbled to Shuri as she sat at the kitchen island; eating a bowl of cereal. She looked exhausted. Shuri chuckled, as she drank the last of the orange juice straight out of the carton.

“My bad, Ri.” Shuri clasped a hand on Riri’s shoulder. It had been two days since the diner scene and She’d finally unlocked the lab. You and Shuri had returned back to the apartment the night before and had spent the entire night fucking.

Shuri had energy that never seemed to go down whilst you were running on the power of pure pettiness. Your moans, cries and screams the work of Shuri’s talented tongue, lips, hands and strap. You didn’t have to fake shit, Shuri worked the sounds out of your throat with little effort.

“When the fuck did this even happen? How?” Riri asked, she wanted to know how you came to fuck Shuri.

“We just talked everything out and then it just happened and kept happening.” Shuri shrugs. She tossed the empty carton in the trash before grabbing some fruit. She rinsed them and started to peel and cut them before placing them into a bowl.

She’d watched you enough to know you loved fruits. Your main favorites being mangoes, pomegranates, pineapples, kiwis, peaches, grapes, tangerines, oranges, and berries.

“Why did you lock me out of the lab?” Riri asked, still pissed about that.

“Riri. I locked everyone out of the lab. Y/n and I were fucking all over the place, why would I keep the lab open to everyone including you?” Shuri raised a brow, as she stared at the smaller girl.

“You’ve never banned me from the lab before.” Riri had a look in her eye.

“I didn’t ban you. I shut the lab down for a few days. Y/n is entitled to privacy. You may like exhibitionism but she doesn’t.” Shuri’s tone was very matter of fact and the look she gave Riri, had her realizing that Y/n had told her everything that had transpired between them fully.

“I wasn’t thinking. I was angry and hurt and…” Riri bit her lip as she felt the overwhelming urge to cry. She’d never felt this out of control and lost before. She didn’t know what to do or how to fix what she’d done.

Shuri frowned. Riri had never in all the time she’d known her been so emotional. Yes, Riri had her moments where she was angry and let her temper tule her but she’d never been so sad. She wasn’t used to seeing this side of Riri.

“I hurt Y/n and it’s killing me because she didn’t deserve that. She’s so sweet and kind and full of love underneath that bitchy, tough demeanor she has going on.” Riri sighed in frustration. “I care about her, more than I thought I ever would care about anyone let alone her. She hates me and I deserve that. I fucked up.”

“I’m not going to lie to you. What you did was fucked. However, I know you. You don’t have a malicious bone in your body. You were wrong and you did hurt Y/n but you can’t wallow in pity. You want her forgiveness, earn it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, it won’t fix anything.” Shuri insisted, before grabbing the bowl of fruits and a bottled water. She headed for her bedroom, to see you seated on the bed.

She’d heard you run from the door to the bed as she came over. You were eavesdropping. She closed the room door behind her, and walked the items over to you. You have her a small smile in thanks before placing the food on the nightstand.

What Riri had said struck you. You hated the fact you felt bad. Why should you feel bad? She’d done something so fucked up and now she was sorry? She should have thought of this before she did what she did.

You felt a pang of guilt at the thoughts that ran through your head.

The next few weeks passed with you having very few interactions with Riri. She went back to her same old song and dance of ordering you food, leaving out notes for your classes, doing your laundry and leaving notes.

Each note was heartfelt and full of remorse but you hated them. You felt torn between forgiveness and resentment. She made herself scarce whenever you were around, locking up in her room or heading to the lab. The longer you went without seeing her, the more you felt bad.

You hated how much you liked the girl who'd disrespected you in a way you'd never been disrespected. Were you a glutton for punishment?

After a while fucking Shuri got to be draining. While you loved fucking her, you had no feelings for her and it felt passionless despite her setting your body on fire each time. You needed feelings and fucking, not just one but both.

You still slept in Shuri's room despite not having sex, liking her company. You both talked and it was eye opening because you learned so much about her. She told you about her family; her father, brother and mother.

Things many people didn't know and you were shocked she was so candid with you. She told you about how she'd met Riri, and the events leading up to the loss of her mother. Why she'd bonded with Riri as much as she had and why she felt she was cursed or paying for sins she was unaware of.

The more Shuri expressed herself, the more you realized just why she was the way that she was. She'd lost so much so young and it made your heart ache. You felt like your world had ended when you lost your father but Shuri had lost her whole family, a whole support system of people that loved and cared for her no matter what.

You'd only ever had your father once your mother decided your sexuality was something she couldn't look past, the hypocritical bitch. The more you hung out and talked, the less Shuri partied, drunk or smoked. She was laser focused on her goals, whilst turning to exercising for an outlet.

You were proud of her, seeing her get herself together and let go of her demons. She'd recently enrolled in therapy virtually with a Wakandan Doctor and made plans to visit her brother's ex lover. You knew both were big steps for her as she'd never taken mental health seriously before, and she hadn't seen her brother's ex lover since shortly after the death of her mother.

Whilst the two of you formed a friendship, you were forced to watch Shuri get her shit together. You realized you no longer had a choice to wallow in self pity or be drowned with your anger, bitterness and resentment.

Shuri helped you sign up with a Wakandan Doctor separate from her own, but you'd bailed each time the appointment was set and the call came through.

You were scared. You could admit that. You didn't want to have to dive through the several layers of fuckery that plagued your mind and your heart.

"Hey..." You looked up to see Riri standing in the entry way of the kitchen as you did your homework at the kitchen island.

"Hi." You said, dryly.

"How are you?" Riri asked, her body language showing just how uncomfortable she was.

"Peachy." You responded, looking back down at your notebook before continuing your writing.

"I um... I've been meaning to talk to you--"

"To apologize?" You snorted before looking up at her. "I don't need another apology, I've had plenty. You showed me exactly who you are and what you're capable of. I'm not even mad anymore, it was my mistake to think you were someone I could trust."

"Y/n..." Riri sighed, running her hands over her freshly done marley twists.

"Is that all you needed?" You asked.

"I... yeah." She looks down before turning around, defeated. Your attention went back to your homework, frustrated at the smallest tinge of excitement you got from seeing her. It'd been weeks since you'd seen her face to face.

"No." You hear and frown as you look up. "I was wrong, I admit that. I can't say anything that could ever take away what I did, I know that but I like you and I know you like me too. I can't pretend like these feelings don't exist, I've never cared about someone the way I care about you and it's killing me knowing I hurt you the way that I have, Ma..."

Your breath hitched as you listened to what she said. Each word making you more confused.

"Tell me you don't like me, look me in the eyes right now and tell me that you don't care about me..." Riri said, her eyes locked with yours as she walked towards you.

"You don't get to---"

"Shut. Up." Riri growled, her eyes hooded as she pulled you to face her and kissed you. Her hands gripping your face as she tried to convey the way she felt in the kiss.

"Stop." You fought against her, hating how your body was melting into her touch.

"I'm sorry, Ma." She whispered against your lips. "I'm so fucking sorry."

She continued apologizing between kisses, while holding you close to her. You felt your resolve growing weak as you moaned into her mouth. This kiss was unlike any kiss you'd ever had before and it made you angry.

"Ya'll gonna fuck in the kitchen?" You hear and Riri reluctantly moves away and you both take breaths.

"And if we were?" Riri asked her, raising a brow.

"Odd considering you know me and Y/n are kicking it." Shuri huffs.

“I didn’t realize you two were exclusive.” Riri raised a brow though it was clear the statement was a dig at Shuri.

“At the very least we’re closer than the two of you.” Shuri responded, and even though she was wearing shades it was obvious she was glaring at Riri.

“Hi, Hey, Hello?!” You wave a hand at the pair. “I’m single and can very much do whatever the fuck I want.”

“And Riri, it’ll take more than an apology and some kisses to get in my good graces. I’m tolerating you, don’t get cocky.” You level her with a stare that you hope conveys how much you did NOT like her at the moment.

Shuri smirked, and you rolled your eyes. They were acting like children. You weren’t some shiny new toy they could play with and fight over. You were a human being with real needs and emotions. It was pissing you off that they seemed to think they could do whatever to you and you’d allow it.

Forgiveness didn’t mean letting either of them continue to play you for a fool. You used Shuri for sex, and she was great to talk to but that’s as far as things went in your head. Your heart was a different story, you had a soft spot for the both of them in different ways but you refused to ever become vulnerable with either of them because you had not faith or trust in them.

Sex was simple. Fun, addicting. But anything else was just not happening. You weren’t ever going there again. Love was bullshit, and while you didn’t think you ever loved anyone before you could admit Riri made you feel things that made you second think that thought. While you could admit you were growing to like their ex, she played you worse than either of them. And to add insult to injury she never even liked you. Just used you.

“If this is going to be a problem, I can easily go back to fucking the bartender.” You say to Shuri, and the both of them glare at you. You smile, turning to head to your room. “Maybe I should hit her up again.”

A hand snatches your hips quickly, stopping you in place.

“No one can compare to me, and you know that.” Shuri says as she kisses your neck. Her hands grip your hips possessively.

“True.” You agree, holding back a moan as she sucked on your spot. Out of any one you’d fucked, Shuri had been the best and you were certain of that.

Riri scoffs to herself as Shuri turned you and lifted you up with ease and you wrapped your legs around her. A small part of you relished how uncomfortable and envious Riri felt. You knew she was pissed and the mere satisfaction of her feeling some of the hurt you felt, seemed to boost your eagerness as you moaned out.

A knock sounds at the door, and you hear Riri heading for the door as Shuri bit down on your pulse point. Your clit throbbed as she pressed you tighter against her.

“Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Does it love ?” A familiar voice says and you freeze as Shuri’s head whips up to look towards the door.

“It’s like looking in a mirror….” Riri whispered to herself, as she stared at the woman that resembled an older, taller you.

You turned slowly and stared.

“Well aren’t you going to invite your mother in?” She questions, looking between you, Riri and Shuri.

🤎

Just a short little update to shake things up a bit 😉

#SoundCloud #shuri black panther #princess shuri #shuri udaku #shuri x fem!reader #shuri smut #shuri x black!reader #riri x you #riri wiliams x reader #riri x reader #riri williams

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