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hysteria-things · 2 months

Note

COULD U POSSIBLY MAKE A MATT FIC BASED OFF OF THIS TIKTOK OR SONG (YOU CAN DECIDE IF U WANT IT TO BE SMUT OR NOT IF U DO MAKE ONE) https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8wp5H2t/

🔗

MY OH MY

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get into a pickle when you get poured on, but don’t worry… somebody comes to save you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing, making out, p in v, ass grabbing, faux sympathy, cum eating (🙈)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,400

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: meant to post earlier but tumblr decided to close the draft without saving as i was proofreading/editing🤣

hope you enjoy @sluttyformatt :)

rain trickles down your hair to your shoes; workout clothes soaked.

you wanted to go on a late-night walk, then suddenly it started pouring out of nowhere. currently, you’re standing under a roof edge, arms crossed while you wait for your ride.

your brother isn’t around to pick you up, so your last resort was his best friend. he’s your brother’s age, who’s two years older than you. he’s known him ever since high school, yet your mother always said matt was a bad influence.

although, you do see where she’s coming from. matt was the type to always get in trouble in school, and overall he’s just a big grump. he’s only been nice to you, your brother, and of course his siblings.

headlights glow down the street, getting closer until the minivan stops in front of you. you quickly head over to it, open the door, and get in on the passenger’s side. “hi matty!” you beam. “thank you so much for picking me up. i didn’t know it was going to rain.”

he looks at you, wearing the leather jacket he’s had for as long as you can remember.

he truly doesn’t understand how you can be so happy no matter what, even if you are drenched in water. “you should’ve checked the weather before you left.” he mumbles, putting the car in drive.

“well, it was sunny all day. i didn’t expect rain. it’s okay, though. it’s like a surprise shower.” you smile, fastening the seatbelt.

“uh oh,” you say, looking through your fanny pack that you have strapped to your stomach.

he sighs, still focusing on the road. “what is it now?”

“i may or may not have left my keys home and locked myself out. nobody’s home.” you lick your teeth. “can i come to your place until my brother picks me up? pretty please, matty?”

“fine.” he inhales sharply. “and stop calling me matty.”

it’s silent as you two sit on the couch. your brother texted you saying he’ll let you know when he’s on his way, but god knows how long that’ll be. (despite it being almost midnight)

matt notices a shiver, taking his eyes off of his phone to look. your hands rub up and down your arms trying to warm up, but the chattering of your teeth indicates that it isn’t helping. “go to my room and grab one of my hoodies and pajama pants. they should be in my dresser.” he says coolly.

you smile. “it’s okay, i can wait. i’m fine.”

“put them on.” he demands. “you’re soaking wet and freezing.”

staring at him, he keeps staring back because of your silence. “go.”

you sigh like a child, getting up from the couch and walking down the hallway into his bedroom.

matt’s clothes are far too big on you, but you do feel warmer and more comfortable. his pants hang low just past your waistline. the hoodie on the other hand is long, causing the sleeves to give you sweater paws.

you sit on the chair he has in the corner, scrolling on your phone. matt can’t help but stand at the doorway, watching you.

not in a creepy way, but the fact you’re wearing his clothes has his dick reacting from the view. the way it’s too big for your body turns him to fuck on.

he cannot feel this way toward you. your his best friend’s sister, for god’s sake. but he can’t help it.

“feel better?”

you get startled by his voice. “yes, thank you.”

“told you so,” he grumbles.

rolling your eyes playfully, you stand up. “i didn’t mean to linger in here. i got distracted.”

as you start to walk by him, he grabs onto your shoulders to stop you. your breath hitches at the feeling of his rings; the way they drag down your arm makes you subconsciously clench your thighs together.

his cologne floods your nostrils, and the way he’s looking at you is different now.

he’s always been a grumpy kid and had a resting bitch face, but now he’s looking at you seductively and with need.

the hand that was on your arm now cups the front of your neck. there’s no pressure, but the fingers with no rings go over your bottom lip.

he sighs sympathetically. “it sucks that you’re off limits. i would so fuck you right now.”

your eyebrows raise high from the sudden courage he had to just blurt that out. however, you smirk.

“if you kiss me.” you shrug. “i might let it happen.”

he groans, leaning down to smash his lips on yours.

still intact, you grab his jacket and pull him in closer, your bodies moving at the same rhythm.

he starts to push you back to where the chair is, turning you 180° so he’s the one sitting in it while you straddle his lap.

your hips grind, rubbing just the right spot on not only you but him also. you smile into the kiss when you feel him hardening beneath you.

tugging at the pants you're wearing, he pulls away. “take these off.”

you shimmy them down your legs as he unbuckles his belt and pulls his bottoms down below his thighs. he grabs your hips to hover you over him, but stops and teases the tip.

you wiggle to get some friction as he smirks. “manners.”

“please.” you whine. “please let me ride your cock. i’m so fucking wet for you.”

matt sinks you slowly onto him, your walls immediately stretching to his size. “i didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth.”

you mumble something into his chest, bouncing uncontrollably on his dick. your sweater paws ball up on his biceps. your ass slaps repeatedly on his skin, the sound echoing off the walls.

he tuts, grabbing your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. “why so quiet?”

“stop.” you mewl, nuzzling your face even deeper into his body. your face is hot from embarrassment.

“is somebody embarrassed to be fucking her brother’s best friend? it looks like ms. goody-two-shoes is a little naughty.” he says lowly into your ear, causing you to start whimpering and going even faster.

it doesn’t take long for his tip to brush against the right spot “oh, fuck.” you moan, legs shaking at his sides.

“better not get this chair dirty, otherwise i’ll make you clean it,” he warns, knowing that you can’t control your orgasm.

pouting, you clench hard. of course, your release runs down his thighs and onto the seat. your eyes are glassed over while you look at him, who’s shaking his head. “you’re making a mess.”

somehow so quickly, he lifts you off of him and onto the floor. now, he’s behind you, and your cheek leans against the chair.

he again nudges at your entrance, this time you buck your hips back but he grips them tight. “clean up your mess first.”

he doesn’t ask. he orders while pushing your head down further into the cushion.

obeying, you flick your tongue onto your arousal. normally, you’d find this gross, but you’re so wet and turned on that you’ll listen to whatever he says. his presence feels like you are under a spell.

a sweet and salty taste fall on your tongue, following his instructions to a t.

a hum of approval is heard behind you. he spreads your legs wider, slamming into you with no warning.

you moan loudly, arching as much as you can in this position. “m-matt! shit, matt!” you yelp.

he grunts, taking in how well your pussy feels engulfing him.

tears threaten to spill from your eyes once they roll back, moaning loud and clear when your g-spot gets abused already.

strings of curses leave your lips, the way he’s balls deep inside of you right now have you quiver a lot. “you feel—” you pause, licking your lips and shutting your eyes tight. “so good. like… holy fucking god.”

he chuckles, placing his hand on your shoulder to drill into you harder. before you even know that it’s happening, you cum for the second time, shaking uncontrollably from the pleasure.

a deep breath later, matt makes sure to pull out and paint your back white.

“you can keep the clothes.” he says, jiggling your ass to play with it. “so you can wear them the next time i fuck you.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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disneyprincemuke · 5 months

Text

daylight * mv1

it’s been 2 years since that fateful night in christian’s home, here’s how life is currently going for you and max

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: fluff smh

notes: HAHA u really thought i'm over midnights yet here i am! this has been sitting in my drafts for like weeks but i got really really carried away by my femdriver series like its crazy

(series masterlist)

(prev)

your hands are on your hips, shying behind the doorframe away from max’s camera. he climbs out of his simulator’s seat and freezes when he meets your eyes.

“darling!” he greets you with a wide smile and open arms.

you step away right before he can pull you in for a hug, giving him a knowing stare. “don’t ‘darling’ me. you know what you did.”

max slumps his shoulders with a sheepish smile as realisation slowly dawns him. “i’m sorry. i was streaming and i completely forgot about the dishes.”

you sigh with a small smile on your face. “i’ll let you off this one time because you’re very polite about it.”

“i’m always polite to my darling,” max says airily, leaning forward with his lips puckered out. you raise your eyebrows in amusement and tilt your head. he frowns. “give me a kiss!”

“no way!” you laugh, turning the other way towards the kitchen. “you didn’t even wash the dishes! naughty boys don’t deserve kisses!”

“if i wash them, will you kiss me?” max asks, chasing after you. he rests his forearm on your shoulder and grins.

“yeah, cause then you wouldn’t be a naughty boy.”

“alright, i’ll go wash them,” max grins, puffing his chest out as he stomps past you to the kitchen. “come watch me wash the dishes like a good boy.”

you throw your head back, laughing as you follow behind him. you’re still in your office clothes, hair pinned back in what’s deemed a professional style and makeup still caking your face.

“how was work?” max starts, starting to wipe away at the dishes with a soap-soaked sponge. “what did you have for lunch?”

“it was alright,” you shrug, lips pressed together into a small grin. “i had some pasta for lunch down the street from the office. we should really go — it’s very good!”

max raises his eyebrows with a small grin. “it must be very good — you’re not much of a pasta person.”

“yeah, but they convinced me to get pasta. told me it was really delicious,” you nod excitedly, hopping up the counter to take a seat right by him. “and i have to give it to them. they’re so right that i’m taking my 5-time world champion fiancé with me to eat there.”

max had surprisingly proposed to you one evening while you going around singapore together after the race. you had spent the entire evening with friends at dinner and spent a good part exploring the country in the late hours.

you wound up in bed exhausted from all the walking, and max walked out of the hotel room’s toilet with flushed cheeks and an expression on his face that you’d never forget.

he was teary eyed recounting the night of your breakup — you don’t speak about it anymore — and talked about how he was so scared to lose you for good at the time.

you were so confused, not knowing where all the emotions had come from. until he fished for something in the pocket of his sweatpants and dropped down on one knee.

completely unexpected — the last time you talked about potentially getting married was a couple of months prior. never to be brought up again.

as far as either of you were concerned, there was no need to rush into something like marriage. as max said before, it didn’t really matter as long as you were together.

he walked the paddocks with you, hand in hand with the goofiest smiles on your faces all weekend. he was just so glad that it’s another year he spent in singapore walking out with you.

you rested your head on his shoulder as you awaited your friends and he instantly knew that he had to ask you that night. he would have asked you on the spot if it weren’t for the ring resting comfortably in his suitcase back in the hotel room.

max scoffs jokingly, flicking his head to the side to act like he’s flipping his air. “ugh, your fiancé?” he scowls slightly. “did he even get you a ring?”

you gasp, your hand held up to your chest, the diamond on your finger reflecting the soft lights off the kitchen ceiling. “of course he did! my fiancé took days finding the perfect ring for me!”

max squints his eyes to look at it.

“ugh, he sounds pretentious.”

“he’s perfect,” you say calmly, a hand resting on his shoulder. you inch your face towards his with your lips puckered. “he’s my favourite person in the whole wide world.”

max presses a chaste kiss to your lips, blood rushing to his cheeks as he does so. “i love you.”

“i love you more.” you pull back and press your back against a cabinet. “how was your day, love?”

“it was great. went to the gym, came home and fed the cats. then i streamed with the guys for a little bit,” max grins. “have you had dinner?”

“not yet. what do you have in mind?”

“charles told me about this restaurant he ate at with alexandra the other day. just opened up — small business and all,” he explains, wiping his hands on his shirt. he steps over to you and props himself up on the counter with his hands on either sides of your thighs. “they’re open ‘til really late. we can have some food, a couple of drinks…” he raises an eyebrow. “talk about the wedding…”

you hum with a smile on your face. you lean in and let your noses touch. “the wedding? already?”

“absolutely,” max nods, eyes glimmering at the thought of watching you walk down that aisle towards him. “aren’t you excited? we can throw the most extravagant wedding if you want. my treat.”

“ah, ever so generous with your money, my love,” you laugh. “we can spend all that on our honeymoon.”

“spend all my money on both,” max mutters. “my money is all yours.”

“what about my money?”

“also yours,” max says. he leans in, pressing his lips against your nose before pulling away. “what do you say? let’s go on a date?”

“okay, but i get to drive your pretty new and expensive car?” you bat your eyelashes as you hop off the counter, swaying side to side with your hands clasped together. “promise i’ll be careful.”

max presses his lips together, hand on the small of your back as you walk out of the kitchen. “i told you that you can drive the car whenever you want.”

“yeah, but that car isn’t mine.”

“might as well be.”

“doesn’t make it mine, max.”

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saleeba · 2 months

Text

the baby-making manual ; william saliba

summary ♡ baby fever hits the salibas full force.

pairing ♡ william saliba x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, husband!william, kissing, p in v sex, cunnilingus, reader & wilo are so broody & so in love with each other, missionary, doggystyle, riding, lotus position (yes i’m fucking depraved don’t look at me like that 🤕), soft romantic vibes, breeding kink, praise, body worship, size kink ofccc, clitoral stimulation, titplay, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it unless ur name is y/n and ur starring in this fic 🥸), creampie(s), a smidgen of cockwarming, blink and u miss the one french word in here, talks about having kids, aftercare included !!

a/n ♡ the title is so goofy & nobody asked for this but the concept has been eating at my mind since the end of summer + i've had this in the drafts since oct so i gotta put me first lucius 😫😩😫😩😫 anyway this is day one of converting you all into wilo girlies hehe WAKE UP WORLD‼️ pls lmk how u all find this fic btw!! ik it won’t get as much attention as my jude ones bc there prob aren’t as many fans but i rlly would appreciate anything u have to say about it !!! 🫶🏽🥰 enjoyyyy mes chéris!! 😌❤️

an unexpectedly warm spring’s saturday had given cause to an impromptu barbecue held by your parents, and you and william had found yourselves in the company of most of your relatives for the day. how your mother had convinced half the family tree to be present on such short notice you will never know but you were grateful nonetheless, extremely happy to especially see the loved ones you haven’t seen since getting married to your now-husband a couple of years ago.

it’s close to eleven in the night now, your arrival at home being so belated due to the clash between your insistence that you and william had to go home as he had training the next morning and your father’s greater insistence that the two of you stay a little longer for another cup of tea, another plate of food, even the whole night if you wanted to. in the end, you had to put a politely firm foot down, more for william’s sake who can’t say no to your parents for the life of him, and who was on his way to accepting your dad’s invitation to stay the night before you spoke up. you knew the events of last night would repeat for the morning, your parents in a tug-of-war with you to make you guys stay for breakfast but you supported your case with the argument of the long drive home and the fact that mikel wouldn’t appreciate william’s tardiness the next day, especially at such a significant time in the season.

you’re sitting in bed by yourself right now with a novel in hand – william having gone to take a much-needed relaxing shower – inwardly laughing to yourself over your husband’s people-pleasing antics and your mind meanders to the scenes of this afternoon, the sounds of children’s laughter and adults’ gossip in the air accompanied with the smokey scent of grilled food taking over your senses. you reencounter images of william chasing your little cousins, nieces and nephews around the garden — small, sweet giggles mixed with william’s deeper chuckles as they’re all engaged in an exhilarating game of tag, little feet and large padding around the property.

your thoughts are pulled back into reality when the ensuite door clicks open, a cloud of steam puffing into the bedroom before it reveals your husband clad in nothing but a white towel around his waist, droplets of water dotted on his toned chest and abdomen. it’s a sheer sight for sore eyes and one that you will never tire of so you shamelessly watch as he smiles at you before gliding across the room, moving to his vanity to apply generous amounts of body lotion to bring back moisture to his skin, the action making his skin glow so prettily under the warm lighting of the bedroom.

it’s these moments of silent appreciation that have you feeling like the luckiest girl in the universe; an adonis of a lover in your bedroom, one that would move heaven and earth at your beck and call, and there’s denying that you would do the same for him.

in all your daydreaming, william’s moved on to pulling his pajamas on for bedtime, a pair of dark grey boxer shorts acting as said pajamas as he opts to go shirtless in fear of overheating on such a toasty night. you place your novel down, the previously read page distinguished with a bookmark, as william places a soft kiss on your forehead before tucking you both in under the thin sheets.

“mum was really bad with the baby talk this time, wasn’t she?” you turn your body on its spot, head propped up by a bend of your arm as you face william who lifts his head at your rhetoric question. “i mean, you did look so fucking adorable with the kids today so i don’t know if i should say sorry on her behalf.”

“not at all,” he only lets out a breathy laugh, now mirroring you in the shift of his own body. “i’ve had most people asking me about it now.”

“really?”

you’re quite shocked to learn that there are indeed a lot of people who are eager to see william and yourself have a family of your own and that it’s not just pestering from your mother in particular, who has asked about when she will be seeing grandchildren from her daughter and “favourite son-in-law” from the moment the two of you had just about exchanged rings. you’ve grown accustomed to answering with the same old ‘we want to focus on us/our careers/our freedom’ response but there’s a little curious something that’s pulling the two of you to consider everyone’s requests.

“mmhm, i think i could count the number of people at the club that have asked me about it using my hands and my feet,” the pair of you laugh at this, a shake of your head over how believable that comment is despite it sounding so silly since the environment of your husband’s workplace is so close-knit and everyone is comfortable with each other. “it’s not just that, though, is it?”

“no?” you question his tone turned serious now.

“when i see the guys and their kids, i can’t help wondering what i might be like in those sorts of situations, y’know?” you sit up at his words, heart racing a little faster with the way he looks at you; looks into you as he again copies your movements, taking your hands in his after leaning his shoulder against the headboard. “can’t help wondering what it would be like seeing you and a mini version of us in the stands during a match… wanna see our baby matching shirts with their papa, wanna hear their tiny voice cheer my name…”

you swear you feel your heart stop as soon as his lips form the words ‘our baby’.

“oh, william,” you sigh over his thoughts spoken aloud, a slight pang of guilt hitting at your heartstrings and causing your eyes to tear up just a little. “why didn’t you tell me about all this, hm?”

you had no idea of his desire to have children, always assuming his response to everyone’s questions to be the same as yours and believing that he wanted to prioritise football over starting a family with you for at least a couple more years.

“it’s not your fault, sweetheart, not at all.” his fingers swipe under your eyes in precaution against any spilt tears. “having a baby, hell, even wanting a baby... it’s a big deal; it’s hard to just drop it into a conversation if that makes sense.”

“of course, that makes plenty of sense,” his hands grip yours in a tight embrace, placing a kiss on the slightly trembling digits in an attempt to soothe you. “you really want to have a baby with me?”

william laughs softly at your words and the way you sit with your mouth gaping, starry-eyed with a million thoughts racing through your mind.

“no, i want to have a baby with mrs khan next door.” he deadpans, referring to your elderly neighbour, before you shove at his shoulder, a blush overcoming your cheeks as you realise how daft your question is, disbelief over how much william wants to be a dad seeping into the way you’re thinking right now. “you’re the only woman that i want as the mother of my children, y/n, the only one.”

his eyes look even more beautiful in the peek of moonlight through the curtains and you fear your heart may give out tonight, squeezing so hard in your chest with the love that you feel for your husband.

“can i kiss you, baby?” he asks so politely, thumb running over the plumpness of your bottom lip. even after so many years together, he’s always the gentleman but still, you tell him that he doesn’t need to ask anymore — you are his to have as he is yours.

his lips descend upon yours with a gentle force, hands clasping over your waist where the black silk material of your short nightdress stops him from touching the warmth of your soft skin. instead, william decides to pick you up and place you on his lap, the urge to feel your body as close to his as possible controlling his actions, your knees dropping to either side of him as your clothed chest meets his bare one.

as the kiss deepens on what seems like its own accord, you feel yourself growing wetter, thankful for your earlier decision to forgo underwear for the night as you grind down onto william’s lap, the cotton of his boxers creating delicious friction on where you need it the most.

breathless sighs turn into light moans from the two of you as william tightens his grip on your waist with the same strength your core presses down onto his hardening length before he turns you both over to have you on your back, his form hovering over yours, lips ghosting over the nook where your neck meets your shoulders, leaving an eruption of goosebumps in its trail.

in the pleasured shutting of your eyes, you can feel william’s hands pull down the loose straps of your nightdress, then a kiss on each shoulder and then the heat of his breath over your exposed breasts.

“so beautiful, darling,” he looks up to your blushing face, the compliment painting a shy smile on it before his lips wrap around your left nipple with wasting any time. a whine is pulled from your lungs over the way william suckles on the nub, a tiny tug of it between his teeth causing you to arch your chest further into his mouth. of course, he doesn’t forget to pay attention to your right boob, taking his sweet time in kissing and swirling his tongue around the stiffness of the other side. “how did i get so lucky, hmm?”

you whimper in response as he brushes his lips down your body over your nightdress; from under your breasts, over your navel and arriving at the base of your tummy, where he places the firmest kiss of them all atop of the lustrous material.

“william…”

“gonna take care of you, baby, i promise.”

his hands now come down to your thighs, where the inner parts are sticky with arousal, and he hoists the hem of your dress up past your bellybutton, the pressing together of your legs to soothe the ache of your core as a light breeze hits it inciting your husband to part them and find home in the self-made gap. his head lowers to where your pussy lays nearly leaking onto the sheets and your breaths quicken, reaching an all-time rapid high when william plants a kiss on your clit, one so soft that it would’ve been deemed innocent had it not been in the midst of an action so filthy.

in the ‘o’-shapedness of your mouth, amorous sighs escape as he starts his attack on your wetness — mouth open, tongue out, lapping at your juices as you sing his praises in the form of high-pitched moans. his tongue slips past your drenched folds to find your sopping hole, the tip of it poking past your entrance as he’s full-on eating you out now, open-mouthed moans from the simple pleasure of your pussy on his lips almost drowning out your sounds.

there’s a particularly lusty moan from you when his thumb finds your tense clit, a couple of rubs on it releasing a string of cries out of the confines of your lips as your legs tremble from their position on his shoulders. from the very beginning of your married life, william had made it his mission to become well-acquainted with you in the bedroom, and you think he’s succeeded as the way he knows which buttons to press to get you to cum at his mercy is very telling, fingers working expertly in toying with your sensitive nub as your walls clench around nothing but the conjured-up image of cumming all over his mouth and pretty face.

“william… i-” you start but are soon interrupted by the intense sucking of your already pounding clit between his moistened lips. the wail you let leave your body is almost pitiful, the feeling so fucking good but so sudden and unexpected that you fall head-first into your orgasm, crashing into it with a spasm of your thighs around william’s head, pawing at his dark hair for some inkling of relief and grounding since you truly believe you’re about to lose all sense of reality with how strong this orgasm has hit you.

william doesn’t relent despite your convulsions, placing kisses over your clenching pussy and shaky abdomen. you manage to still your involuntary motions to catch a glimpse of his face in all its glory; his lips glistening wet with your release and his eyes darker than ever, impossible to distinguish the colour of his pupils from the colour of his irises, an unfolding plan of what’s to come for you both behind his soft gaze.

“did so, so good for me, my love,” he praises, kissing you through panting breaths from the both of you. “want to feel you around me, fuck, need to feel you around me, baby.”

you go to deny him at first, nestling your hand against the bulge of his boxers but he’s quick to deny you in turn.

“no, baby, tonight’s for you, ok? just wanna take care of everything— take care of you.”

you nod in acceptance, knowing that arguing with him would be futile, a gentle flame in his eyes telling you of his determination to do nothing but be at your service until the sun comes up.

“how do you want me first, amour?”

you almost swoon at the question, unable to believe that you essentially have this man at your mercy now, getting dizzy over choosing whether you want to ride him into oblivion first or save that for later and have him take you from behind to start with. either way, you know that tonight was no night for a meagre one round.

“how about as we are right now?” you suggest, the current arrangement of you on your back and william on top proving perfectly convenient for you guys to start with your favourite position in bed.

“sounds perfect, baby,” he smiles before getting up to rid his body of those grey boxers and then almost leaning over you to pull a condom from the nightstand before he stops himself midway, the both of you realising that this is a habit that will need to be unlearnt now. a pair of giggles erupts between you and a silent agreement to forget the condom for the whole purpose of tonight is sealed with a rerouted kiss from william. he then prompts you to lift your hips so he can slot a pillow underneath them and have you as comfortable as you can get. you can’t resist biting your bottom lip at the pulsating anticipation between the two of you, the sight of his bare cock admittedly making your mouth water.

now back on the bed and parting your legs, william resituates himself in between, this time with his cock in his hand running down your increasingly dripping slit, the occasional dip past your folds making you wince in an addictive combination of overstimulation and urgency.

“shit, angel, i’m sorry,” his apology is sincere as he searches your eyes for signs of discomfort. “we don’t have to do this right now, we can take a break, do you want me to ge–”

“babe, i’m fine, okay?” you huff out a laugh, your husband’s honestly innocent face tickling your tummy and making your core ache even more. “j-just fuck me, will, please?”

his answer comes in the guise of an assured smooch against your swollen lips, taking the quiet opportunity to sink into your wetness, completely raw for the first time, with a loud deep groan that makes your stomach feel like it’s gloriously folding in on itself. you revel in finally having the naked thickness of his cock inside you, experiencing every ridge, vein and inch of smoothness directly between your gummy walls with a hushed fuck before he gets to work on setting a moderate pace — slow and savouring it seems, his way of saying that he wants this to last as long as it possibly can.

"william… so big..." no matter how many times you've been under him and how many times you say it, it will always ring true; the initial stretch and burn that his cock creates for you will always light a fire of delicious friction, tonight being a million times more special than every previous encounter put together. and no matter how many times william hears it, it will always set his mind ablaze, hips now pistoning at an unfathomable speed as he can’t hold back anymore, moaning and groaning about how good you feel uninterrupted around him, how there'll be no one else for him, how you're everything to him. it all has your pussy gushing around him to no end.

your whimpers warn him of another impending orgasm, the tightening clasp of your cunt and the way you’re clawing at the softness of his lower tummy in sheer desperation make william’s movements falter just the slightest, a whine leaving his throat as he can feel his own climax catching up to him.

“close, baby,” he warns in sentences incomplete, brain whirring on pure pleasure and nothing else but the desire to have you cumming around him. he’s afraid that he may finish a fraction too soon and leave you disappointed so his fingers find your stiffened clit again, the caressing of his thumb a little harsher this time around as part of an effort to get you both to cum at the same time.

the pleasure you’re receiving from the touch of his thumb and the stroke of his dick is almost too much, hands willing their way to pull his off of you but the speed at which your second orgasm hits you beats any other competition to the finish line, pussy barely squeezing to trigger william’s first orgasm of the night; your lover climaxes inside of you with a sound so guttural, it has him almost collapsing against your shaking form but you invite him to do so, a tender hand on the back of his head guiding him to a safe haven in the crook of your neck as the strangely comforting feeling of thick, white liquid streams down your inner thighs. heavy breaths saturate the dimly lit room as you lay with your lover for a moment, warm bodies basking in the aftermath of a shared orgasm.

after a comfortable minute or two, william speaks up, his voice dropped to an octave so deep it relights the fire in your seeping cunt before your head can even process his words.

“how does round two sound to you?” he’s asking amidst the plotting of a few kisses up your jawline.

you’re ready to jump his bones again on your own accord so when you hear the request fall from your husband’s lips, it’s an immediate “yes please” from you, not even bothered to feel shameful about the reeking desperation of your response.

a knowing chuckle and another kiss seal the deal, william pulling your now-creased nightdress over your outstretched arms, leaving you completely bare but free; accessible to his every touch. he asks you to turn around onto your hands and knees, setting the pillow down underneath your lower abdomen as a precaution.

“there we go, angel,” he places a tender kiss at the bottom of your spine, running a hand up the natural curve of your back while you anticipate his next action. “gonna make my pretty girl feel so good tonight, she deserves it all.” your thighs divide instinctively in response to his voice and the sight of his cum glistening on your skin has william choking on a moan, needing to stroke his cock on the white-stained slipperiness.

“william, don’t tease,” you beg with a shake of your ass against his crotch to get him to hurry and slip his length inside of you. “can’t wait anymore.”

your husband obliges immediately, having lubricated his dick enough with his own release off your thighs, pushing into your hole with so much more ease and a filthy squelch as the realisation that the majority of his cum from the previous round is still inside of you hits him. oh, it sends william’s entire being into a lustful frenzy.

“f-fuck, baby, listen to how well i filled you up,” he gasps out, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as the dirtiest noises he has ever heard emits from where his cock is connected to your pussy.

you’ve done this position more times than you can count but the raw state of his dick plus the way it definitely plunges deeper from all the lubrication william has created inside you has you growing wetter beyond belief, another layer of arousal helping him reach damn near a whole new dimension of your cunt. you don’t want to lend your name to porno-fuelled incorrect biology but you swear he’s in your cervix right now, the pillow now playing its part in hoisting your bottom half up, back arching so beautifully, making it the perfect setup for william to split you in half with every thrust of his length.

between a melody of cries of his name from your worn lips and his deeper moans, you surprisingly cum without a word of warning; it’s fast and it’s hard and it’s white-hot, almost launching your body off the bed entirely. it’s not so surprising, actually, given the speed of william’s pounding inside of your creaming pussy and the resulting splat-splat-splat noise his actions make, all of it way too much, way too depraved and addicting to try and avoid.

“good fucking girl,” your husband grunts out at the sensation of yet another round of your pussy walls spasming around him, another round of hot cum spurting into your hole as he fills you up with an animalistic fuck! marking the round so differently from the last one, which was so full of love, this one in a tone that is much more lewd and untamed.

you’re still on all fours, moaning softly at the flood of cum that spills out of you from around william’s dick and onto the sheets below, cunt still clenching his shaft which doesn’t seem to get any softer despite the two of you having been at it for nearly two hours without a break. your husband, sheathed still in your core, runs a series of kisses up your back, reaching the back of your ear to leave praises of how good you were for him just then and how pretty you look while he’s balls deep inside of you. eventually, he pulls out with a throaty moan, leaving you panting as you fall onto your back to look up at his fucked out expression.

william’s standing there with his hands on his hips, chest heaving, face all smiley and flushed, an image not too dissimilar to one where he’s fresh off a victory on the pitch. you wish you could take a picture of the scenery in front of you but you trust your memory to sear it into place for you instead.

“fucking hell, if i’m not pregnant by now then i don’t even know what to say!” you laugh out at the mess you’ve both made of the sheets and yourselves, and william joins in before quipping in with a “hmm, we should make sure, just in case, of course.” a cheeky tone in his voice as he snuggles his mouth against your neck, the hair on his chin tickling your skin as you squirm on the bed out of ecstatic amusement.

“okay, okay, but first we have to take a break, babe!” you manage to squeal out before william ceases his tickle attack on you, letting you go to the bathroom while he fetches a glass of water from the kitchen.

by the time you’re finished and clean, william has the bed remade and the glass of water held out by the hand upon your return to the bedroom. you shake your head at him, bemused at this butler act he’s now performing.

“your refreshment, mrs. saliba,” he mocks what you assume to be a posh british accent, his own french one adding so much charm to it.

“i thank you, mr. y/l/n,” you smirk back and take a sip, careful not to choke as william pushes your shoulder in jest with an oi before sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching you set the empty glass down on the nightstand.

“so, about that making sure thing,” you pounce on his lap within a split second, settling your hands on the warmed skin of his shoulders.

william throws his head back in a hearty chuckle. “fucking hell, what was in that water?!”

“shut up and kiss me, saliba.” you command and he doesn’t dare to do anything but oblige, lips catching yours in a heated kiss that reinstalls all elements of hunger and lust inside of the pair of you. running your hands down and over the expanse of his chest has william parting his lips in a low groan, you taking the opportunity to slip your tongue inside his mouth and swallow all of his sugary sweet sounds, not wanting any ears other than your own to hear them. the resumed grinding of your naked crotch on william’s has him hardening quickly, another order from you to go lay himself down on the pillows moving scenes on as rapidly as you like.

“good boy,” you admire the way he’s displayed himself for you, long athletic body sprawled out in all its glory, the moonlight a little brighter now that the night has really settled in. “you look so good like this, william, fuck, need to have you inside me now, baby.” a couple of tugs on his stiff cock and you’re sliding down onto it, william’s hands – slightly sweaty from excitement – holding you in place as you begin to rock and raise your body.

there’s a harmonised whine from the two of you as you’re filled with his thickness once again, william encased in your snug, plush walls, and the swivel of your hips atop him makes his teeth grit in euphoria. seeing this spurs you on more, momentum picked up from the way william throws his head back, leaving his neck at your mercy and you of course can’t help but nip and kiss and lick over it, the sounds being pulled from his throat so saccharine and tuneful.

he pants out with a vice-like grip on your hips, the skin white with the extreme grasp his fingers have on it. “s-slow, baby, slow…” he pleads while you rock and grind and bump into his crotch like a woman gone mad, chasing a high that is just at the tips of your fingers… just a little more.

you whine out his name, scratching at his chest where you had previously been resting your hands for leverage, and he finds a little leeway before taking a gulp of courage and sitting up to meet the stirring of your pelvis with his, cock sputtering up into your cunt as he supports you with his large hands behind your back.

the position is possibly the most intimate you’ve been in — naked chest to naked chest, your nipples rubbing against the softness of his pecs, your knees on either side of him as his are crossed underneath you, body so much smaller than his, lips so close to touching with every jerk and bump but never really kissing, always teasing. it’s all so fucking hot and there’s nothing you want more than for him to fill you up once more.

the knock-knock-knock of another orgasm has you pulling him so close against you, practically forcing him to shift his entire weight on top of you. you feel the need to bury him inside your skin. to be bound entirely and irrefutably. his lips, just now attached to the mounds on your chest, start rambling in his native tongue. you're not quite fluent in french but you've been with william long enough to pick up some things; the important things. through his wanton panting and sighing, he's spilling all his desires to you — telling you that he can't wait to see you swollen with his child, can’t wait to see if they’ll have his hair or your smile, can’t wait for you both to finally be the parents you had dreamed of being. there’s a fire in his words and it sets your whole body alight, scratching down his back in vicious streaks that will surely be present for the next week.

“w-william, please,” you wail, legs burning in their effort to capture your awaiting high. “put a baby in me, fuck, please, fuck a baby into me.” freshly hot tears are fully spilling down your cheeks now, the ecstasy of his cock pounding into you and the promises he’s made to you proving too much and you need relief from it all, desperately.

“gonna do just that, angel, gonna fill you up nice and good,” he moans out, pulling you in closer to his gyrating form. “gonna fill you up over and over until we get that baby.”

and that’s the tipping point for you, your husband’s words, so sincerely sweet yet sinful, being the thing to push you over and have you cumming with a thunderous scream of his name. your pussy gushes around his rigid length, walls fluttering around it so forcefully you’re scared they’ll be stuck like this forever. william soon follows with his own orgasm, a few throaty moans that sound so pretty coming from his plump limps as they match the rhythm with which he spurts his sticky cum into you. your legs tremble in both exhaustion and bliss around william, and he’s quick to soothe them over with his hands, mouth landing kisses over your face and your chest.

there’s only a symphony of heavy panting from you both now, and the occasional whimper or soft moan, as william lays on his back with you on top of him, large hands running up and down your back to steady your breathing, his dick still firmly in you. you're pretty sure you've forgotten what it feels like to be empty and without him.

“you okay?” he mumbles into your hair, a loving kiss left on your forehead before he tilts your chin up to look at him, your eyes weary and ready to doze off. you can only muster up an mmhmm but william is determined to end the night perfectly for you.

“hang on, baby, okay?” he requests before slowly pulling out of your heat and dashing to the bathroom where you can hear the din of him rummaging through cupboards and running the bathtub’s taps, leaving you to laze around with a pool of cum leaking out of you. the sudden crash of something metal followed by a shit! is enough to pull you out of the clasps of sleep, however.

your husband reappears swiftly, a boyishly guilty look on his face to which you raise an eyebrow.

“everything’s fine!” he assures your silent questioning. “i want to take care of you right now, though. please?”

you flash him a tired but teasing smile in affirmation and he picks you up bridal-style, giving a quick kiss to your lips before walking you over to the bathtub and gently placing you in the comfortably warm and bubbly water where you feel your muscles instantly relax. the calmingly fragrant scent of chamomile fills your nostrils as you sigh up at your lover.

“thank you, honey,” you speak, a slight croak to your voice from honest exhaustion. william nods at you before plotting another sweet kiss on your temple.

“room for a little one?” he asks with a beautiful grin on his face, teeth all out in his signature style.

“always.” you scoot forwards to make room for him and he slips his much larger frame behind you, instantaneously pulling your back into his chest, hands delicately soothing over your tummy as he delivers a bunch of kisses across the plane of your shoulders.

“sounds stupid but i already have a list of names that i wanna go over with you.” he says shyly after a moment of quiet.

you giggle and set a devoted kiss to the wedding band on his ring finger.

“i’m all ears.”

#MAH DICK FELL AWFF #guys it’s not even funny anymore i NEED him to put a baby in meeeeeeeeee 😫😫😫😫😫😫#literally the only french person that deserves rights EVURRRRRRRR he can put his oui oui baguette right inside this pu-#the only man i would cook and clean for i promiseeeee you #william saliba #william saliba imagine #william saliba smut #william saliba x reader #william saliba x you #william saliba x y/n #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer smut #˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗

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vanillasann · 3 months

Text

His World, Your World

Pairing: Venti x gn!reader

Genre: Angst <3

Summary: He loves his nation and you just almost as much. For Mondstadt is his world and he'd do everything he could to protect it. Even if it costs his life. So when you have to choose between his death or his nation's, he begs you to choose his. But will you?

TW: Major character death (u), but nothing too graphic. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are many grammar errors! <//3

Note: I've been dying to write something since last, last, last year/? but my lazy ass is stronger than me. This draft has been in here for a year. But oh, well, at least I write something now. I've always loved 'Which would he choose? You or the world?' trope and also inspired by a fanart I saw months ago; Venti hates you because you chose him over Mondstadt, but sadly I forgot their username-.

It's not a secret for anyone to know the fact that Mondstadt is Venti's home. It won't even be an overstatement to say that Mondstadt is his world.

For him loving it oh so much; even greater than he value his own life. For it was what his friends had always been wanted. For it was what his friends had been fight for.

He loves it dearly with all of his heart. He loves the people in it; his people, his children. He loves the freedom his nation has. And for it, he'll do anything he could to protect it. Even if the cost that he must pay is his life.

What to lose? I am but an archon that has long ago left my nation anyway. They'll be just alright without me, he thinks.

There are so many words that could describe Venti. He is a God. An Archon. An immortal being. A cheerful person that is allergic to cats. A drunkard bard. But never even in his mind that he'd ever could be described as a lover.

A lover who loves his partner passionately. A lover who cares so much about his partner's well-being. A lover who will go out of his way to comfort and cheer them whenever the world gets too mean towards them. A lover who vows to his partner that he'll protect them with everything he has.

Venti knows that he's rather friendly with all his acquaintances. Yet he never thought about even the possibility of him falling in love with someone, let alone a mere mortal being, for he is an archon.

At least that's what he thought. Until he met you.

You, who make his heart thump like crazy, feels like knocking hazardly in his chest. You, who make his day a bit more brighter just by getting a thought of your voice calling his name. You, who make him smile like a drunk man even when he hasn't chugged any bottle of Diluc's dandelion wine. And you, who make him addicted of your all.

He tried to shrug it off as his form of interest towards you. Nothing big, just a little crush that will wilt over time, he thought back then. But that little crush was and is still growing wildly every time he spends his day with you. Making a flower garden that he himself can't seem to get rid of, for he has gotten fond of these feelings.

He cherished every moment he has with you, whether it's just strolling around Windrise or visiting Diluc with Kaeya. Whether it's mundane things like joking and making a fool of himself just so he can hear a chorus of your laughter he so adore or a pretty night when he asks you to join him to stargazing in Starsnatch Cliff.

He loves you so much that he even drinks wine less just so he can spend more time with you. He loves you so much that he writes songs about you so that the world knows how amazing you are that even an archon fell head over heels for you.

He loves you and his nation just almost as much; with all of his heart, with everything that he has. That he'd sacrifice anything else if it means he could keep his nation and you safe.

So when you are faced with a big choice that had to be made, he pleads- no. He begs you to choose his doom.

While Venti is a lover who yearns nothing but to spend a lifetime with you, his love, he also is Barbatos, an archon of a nation. He couldn't imagine his life if you'd choose him over his nation, his world.

He begs and cries and sobs to you while clings like you are his lifeline.

Who you are to decline his pleas?

But while you understand his position, you couldn't help but feels like he's selfish. Oh so selfish to sacrifice himself so no one would die. Because while yes, everyone might just be alright, but- what about you?

You who had loved him so much, too much in fact, that you'd choose his life over yours, even over the world, for he was yours. You who had given him everything you had and gave in to his every whim and plea every single day without fail. You, who can't even think about your life without him and his laughter.

And Mondstadt will not last that long without him anyway, you tried to justify yourself in front of a mirror silently. Blank stare at your broken state reflection.

But the flashes of his dying heart and broken scream and tear-stained face of sorrow, because he lost his nation, make your stomach churn and tighten your chest that you can't draw even shallow breath. A realization hit you; He couldn't live without his nation, and vice versa.

That much is what you need to know to make the decision. You clean yourself as much as you can and go to make it.

Underneath the sunset glow and under the tree in windrise you two stare at each other deeply with an empty smiles, trying to pretend everything is alright.

"Are you really sure about this?"

"You promise you're gonna be happy?"

"You promise you're gonna be fine without me?"

He nods at every question you throw at him, even with a trembling smile and tears that threaten to fall, he stands his ground. He answers your questions like he knows what you'll choose after his pleas and begs. Because you'd never say no to him, for you love him too much.

He'd accepted his doom. Anything for his nation to be safe and for you to continue your life, even without him.

But then why?

Why is your form slumping against him in his embrace as if you don't have any strength to even hold it anymore?

Why are you rubbing his back softly and whispering apologies for what you've done?

Why are your breathing and your heart slowly fading away despite him holding you so tight against him?

Why is he screaming your name repeatedly with uncontrollable tears that fall while he tries to shake you awake when it should have been him who won't respond to yours?

Why is he can't do anything despite him being a God, an archon, to bring you back by his side?

Why would you trade your place in his stead as a sacrifice?

Venti doesn't understand.

Or rather, he doesn't want to. For he forgot that he knows a fact.

That while Mondstadt is his world, Venti was yours.

#venti x reader #venti angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #venti x y/n #genshin venti #genshin #genshin angst #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader angst #venti x you #venti x reader angst #genshin x y/n

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ameliora-j · 4 months

Note

CAN YOU PLEASE DO ROUGH DOM NIALL. i’m actually begging. maybe the reader acts up on purpose for attention because niall is busy with his new album and he has to put her in her place 🫢 btw i love ur work, your like my fav author on this app xx

pls ur gonna make me cry :’) thank u angel ♡

content: mean dom!niall, fem!reader, brat!reader, edging, cumplay, impact play (flogging, slapping), spitting, humiliation, degradation, tummy bulge, creampie, breeding kink, lots of pet names, dominant/submissive themes, no aftercare written but it happens!, THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG I’M SO SORRY BAE DODOWNEN, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI !

you’re grumpy—and you have been for the last week and a half. had niall been paying any attention to you at all, he’d have realized as such earlier. however, he is deep into the finalization stage of his new album. you’re proud of him—more than proud of him. niall turns your world that much is obvious. you praise any and everything he does. so of course you’re overjoyed he has a new album coming, and so proud of all his hard work.

you just can’t help but feel a little… jealous? neglected? you’re not a hundred percent sure exactly what you would call it in truth. it feels like a big dark cloud of grump is sitting above your head and you can’t do anything about it. niall is your boyfriend, the love of your life… but first and foremost he is your dominant. he keeps you in check, makes sure you’re always on track, and fucks you into oblivion every night.

the problem is that with his new album, he hadn’t fucked you in almost two weeks. to go from having sex every day—multiple times a day—to none at all for a whole two weeks was really taking a toll on you. it’s niall’s own fault, anyway—your sex drive wasn’t nearly this high before you’d met him. you don’t realize that your sexual frustration is building up until you’re already on the brink of an explosion. waking up in the morning with only one thing on your to-do list: be the biggest brat known to mankind.

unbeknownst to you, niall had taken the day off. he realized that he was neglecting you a bit—it’d been too long since he saw your pretty face when you were awake. you’re surprised to see niall still laying in bed beside you, sleeping peacefully when your eyes flutter open. you look to the bedside table and read the numbers on the alarm clock before pushing his shoulder.

niall wakes with a grunt, gasping a bit as he turns to look at you. “wha’s a’matter?” he mumbles tiredly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“you’re late” you mumble grumpily as you move to get out of bed. “wouldn’t wanna keep the love of your life waiting” you slightly grumble as you walk to the bathroom.

“love of my life? what’re you on about, pet? you’re right here” he chuckles softly, shaking his head as he sits up. “come back to bed, i took the day off. wanna cuddle.”

your heart flutters at the statement, nearly blowing the grump-cloud away, but it’s already hard-set on remaining there for the rest of the day. “i can’t i have things to do.” you say simply as you move to walk downstairs.

niall frowns a bit, clambering out of bed to follow you. “hey wait a second, where are you going?” he asks. you’re never out of bed this quick—even if you do have plans for the day. furthermore, no matter if you’re late, you’re always keen to lay down and have a cuddle with niall.

“since when does my life interest you?” you snark. niall’s jaw clenches. it’s barely been fifteen minutes and he’s already fed up with your attitude. he takes a breath to calm himself, wanting to get to the root of the issue before taking things too far.

“your life always interests me. you’re my girl, don’t be ridiculous” he shakes his head. you simply scoff, rolling your eyes and shoving past him and going to take a shower.

niall is quick to grab your wrist, dragging you back to his chest and squeezing your jaw. “listen here you little brat. i took the day off to spend quality time with you but i can just as easily spend it beating the brat out of you. so what will it be?” he growls lowly. you seal your fate when you suck in your cheeks, pursing your lips and spitting on him.

his eyes go dark and he chuckles lowly, slapping his palm against your cheek roughly. “i’m gonna make you regret that” he murmurs.

niall all but drags you back to the bedroom, shoving you roughly onto the bed. you whimper a bit, squirming in anticipation as he walks over to the closet, grabbing his duffel bag full of toys, ropes, and all of his ‘dom essentials.’ “what are you doing?” niall asks when he turns around—noting you hadn’t moved from where he put you.

“sitting” you hum, snark still lacing your tone. niall chuckles, shaking his head a bit as he walks over to you. he grabs you by your neck, forcing you to stand before tearing your nightgown from your body—practically tearing the flimsy fabric in two.

you squeak as niall spins you, forcing you down onto the bed before pulling your hips up so you were on your hands and knees. you hear rummaging before one of niall’s hands rubs over your ass. “pick a number between one and five.”

he’s angry—really angry—he usually always adds a pet name even if you’re in trouble. you bite your lip, thinking hard about what number to pick. you knew how niall’s spankings worked. you would pick a number, and if you got it right then that’s how many spanks you got. if you got it wrong, then he’d double whatever number he was thinking of. you squeeze your eyes shut tight, going with the safest option smack dab in the middle. “three?” you say hesitantly.

niall smirks, rubbing his hands over your ass. “oh, princess” he hums in a sickly sweet tone—and you nearly smile before realizing that you’re being mocked as his hand strikes your ass cheek. “it was five” he says lowly.

the number is the only warning that you get before niall winds up his flogger and slams it down on your ass. you practically scream into the comforter, tears already pricking the corners of your eyes. he doesn’t start off gentle or work his way up, and he gives you no respite as he continuously whips his flogger on different areas of your backside.

you make sure to call out numbers clear and concise—not wanting to start over with niall in this mood. by the time he’s finished with you, you’re a wet mess—in more ways than one. tears spilling down your cheeks, drool falling from your lips, and cunt sticky with arousal.

“okay okay okay” niall hums as he turns you around. “i know baby, i know. you’re okay… you’re fine” he coos tauntingly as he pulls you to his chest. “‘s okay, i’ll give y’what y’want… quit y’tears” he mumbles as he tugs his sweats down. he lays you back on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable on top of the pillows before kissing your head.

“oh there’s my girl” he smirks as he runs his cock through your sticky folds. you whine softly, arching towards him before he pushes your hips down. “stay still, y’brat” he grunts, slapping your cunt a few times. you shriek with each hit, your legs wiggling in an attempt to get away as you look at him tearily. “jus’ lay there and take my cock.” he mumbles as he slowly pushes into you.

the both of you moan as he bottoms out, you gripping niall’s shoulders as he holds your hips tightly. “fuckin shit babydoll” he groans, pressing down on the bulge of his cock your tummy. “forgot how goddamn tight you were” he gasps a bit, slowly pulling his cock out before thrusting back in.

niall is in heaven… he’s practically pussy drunk off one stroke alone. his head falls back and his eyes roll as he feels your gummy walls gripping him. you’re like a vice, almost as if you wouldn’t let go even if he begged you to. your pussy is sucking him in, leaking around him like a fountain of eternal youth and he’s so close to busting that he has to take a deep breath and distract himself. “this what you needed baby?” he mocks. “just a big cock to fill up your tight little cunt?” he hums.

“ni…” you whine softly and he simply chuckles before setting a pace. once he’s adjusted to your tightness and calmed himself down, he’s able to fuck you how he wants. he holds your hips down against the mattress setting a brutal and punishing pace in your cunt.

“that why you had an attitude? haven’t fucked you properly lately?” he laughs at you. actually laughs at you, and you can’t even bring yourself to care. “you’re so pathetic” he mumbles, spanking your clit. “all it takes is some dick n you’re all smiles again.”

“yeah daddy” you moan in agreement, nodding dumbly as your eyes fluttered closed. you barely even register the words niall is saying to you—all you know is that they’re mocking and unkind. but, this is all you wanted—what you’d been dreaming of for so long so you had not a care in the world. not a thought bouncing around your skull other than more more more.

more love. more affection. more close. more cock. more niall. he engulfed you, not just due to his much larger stature. he had you pinned between the bed, your bodies so close that you could feel the beads of sweat dripping off of his forehead and onto you. he was everywhere—on top of you, inside of you, touching you, his scent engulfing your nostrils as you lay on his pillow.

your head was swimming in a pool of niall and you were content to drown in it until niall forces your leg up over his shoulder. he reangles his hips and slams his cock back directly into your gspot. “daddy!” you shriek out loudly, your back arching high off the bed.

“yeah baby, daddy’s here” he mumbles, reaching to rub your clit. “daddy’s right here baby. jus’ lay pretty and take my cock, yeah?” he flashes a bright smile your way, winking at you—his hips never breaking rhythm as he punishes your cunt with his cock.

you can barely choke out a response your cunt pulsing around him as your orgasm dangles so close, yet so far away. “are you gonna cum baby? i can feel you squeezing me” he hums, fucking you faster. “do you want to cum princess?” he mocks.

“yeah! yeah, yeah, yeah!” you chant, nodding rapidly as your hips begin stuttering against his. “oh fuck yeah!” you whine.

“awh… ‘s too bad i didn’t say you could then, isn’t it?” he hums, slapping your clit once more and laughing meanly. you whine in frustration, tears wetting your lashes as you force your orgasm back. “jus hold it baby, you can do it” he teases, but begins rubbing your clit in small, deliberate circles. “right? for daddy?” he smirks.

you gasp, nodding dumbly as your eyes roll. “f-f’daddy” you nod, your legs beginning to shake. you feel niall’s cock give a twitch at that, his hips stuttering a few times before he finds his pace once more.

“daddy’s gonna cum baby” niall moans in your ear, beginning to nip and suck the skin of your neck. “gonna fill this tight cunt… give you m’babies you want that?” he smirks.

“yeah daddy… yeah gimme your babies please” you whine, beginning to rock your hips in time with his.

“then cum with me, princess” he whispers, squeezing your throat just as your orgasm starts. you moan loudly, unable to stop the spasming of your body as you cream around niall’s cock. you distantly register his slew of swears through loud moans as you feel his seed painting your walls. you moan softly as he pulls you into a hot and heavy kiss—filled with love and passion.

niall pulls away breathlessly, smiling down at you in adoration as he gently pushes your hair from your face. “is my good girl back yet?” he hums softly, gently peppering kisses over your face.

the airy giggle you let out is enough to let niall know he’d fucked you nine ways from sunday and you were now deeply submerged in a submissive headspace. if that wasn’t enough for him, then your soft: “yeah daddy” as you nose against his neck seals the deal for him.

he hums a bit in relief—pride maybe?—before kissing your neck again. “good… you keen for a cuddle now?” he smirks softly at you.

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stuismybf · 11 months

Text

goodbyes - s.h

summary: Byers!reader is moving away to California and leaving behind their partner Steve Harrington.

a/n: this has been in my drafts since last summer lolll it was supposed to be a multiple characters with this idea but i just never got around to it, this is super short btw im is trying to clear my drafts <3

gn! reader

His breath shutters while he’s looking at you, his hand holding yours tightly.

All of your stuff was packed now, and this was it Steve couldn’t deny it anymore. You were moving. He wouldn’t see you at the video store anymore, no more sneaking into your house at midnight to see you, he wouldn’t be meeting you at your house for study sessions at the library.

“i guess this is it” he sighed closing the trunk and looking over at you.

Nancy and Jonathan were hugging each other saying their goodbyes along with Max and Eleven and Mike and Will.

You could tell Steve was holding back tears while looking at you. His hand was on his shoulder and he looked down and ran a hand through his hair. “i uh…this just doesn’t feel real”

“i know i mean i’ve always lived so close and now i’m gonna be-”

“2,000 miles away” he said and looked up at you.

“yeah” you whispered with a sad smile.

“i mean i think it’s for the best. Your family’s been through so much” he said.

You nodded and then there was a silence between you.

“i’m just really gonna miss you” he said and then he wrapped his arms around you, “i know” and you could feel his tears on your neck.

“i’ll write you every night” you said

“promise?” he asked

“of course” you confirmed

“I love you” he said, his forehead pressed onto yours.

“Y/n honey do you wanna ride in the u-haul with me?” Joyce called out.

“i guess i should go”

“uh yeah i guess so…oh wait! one more thing. Just wait really quick”

He sprinted back to his car and came back with a tote bag.

“i uhm put some of my stuff in here, nothing big just like a few of my shirts and a mixtape i made you”

“steve” you whispered, your face wrinkling up as you started to cry and wrapped your arms around him.

“i love you so much” you cried and he chuckled and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“come on i’ll walk you to the u-haul”

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httpiastri · 5 months

Text

devil in disguise – cn21

clement got into a fight.

genre: angsty??

pairing: female reader x boyfriend!clement novalak

warnings: mentions of blood, alcohol, fighting. basically describing an anxiety/panic attack so stay away if that might trigger you!

requested?: no

author's note: two pieces of writing in one day? who am i??? 😵 jk jk, this has just been sitting in my drafts for so long (since halloween-) and i just got tired of not posting it, so i just wrote an ending and here we are. welp. not super happy with this one, esp not the end, and im not sure how accurately i described the panic/anxiety (like. i just experience, i don't remember it after it happens. 😐), but i hope u enjoy!!

f2/f3 masterlist

"i can't believe you, clem."

the anger is still bubbling inside of you, yet your actions tell a different story. you've got one of his hands in yours, pressing an ice pack against the back of it gently to hopefully stop some of the swelling and bleeding.

"hey, baby-"

"no, don't you 'baby' me right now. bloody hell, what were you thinking?!"

to say that clement's halloween party had been a failure would be an understatement. you aren't exactly an avid party-goer, most often preferring to stay at home with a good book or a favorite show playing on the tv. in fact, you couldn't even recall when you last attended a party before this one. but, knowing that you're a big fan of halloween, clement invited you to his theme party. your boyfriend had promised to stay by your side and make sure you were comfortable, knowing how you sometimes get intimidated by large crowds, and it all went smoothly for most of the night. until it didn't anymore.

it all happened so quickly. one moment, there was a hand on your waist – one you assumed belonged to your boyfriend – and you leaned into his touch. the next, the hand was ripped off you and you spun around to see what was going on. and then, all you could see was clement's fist flying towards the stranger's face.

silence washed over the apartment momentarily, only to soon be shattered as screams and the thuds of fists against skin consumed the room.

but to you, it all went quiet. it felt like the world slowed down, and you were stuck watching as your boyfriend punched some dude you'd never seen before. you couldn't move, frozen in place as more people started getting involved, pulling the two apart or throwing punches of their own.

you felt yet another hand land on your shoulder, but this time it belonged to marcus. he pulled you back, away from the commotion, tucking your face into his chest to hide you from the ongoing fight. your lungs felt tight, your vision growing blurry.

the crowd scattered moments later, everyone but clement's closest friends leaving hurriedly. marcus guided you to the bedroom, ensuring that you weren't panicking completely before going out again to help out.

your relationship with clement is still relatively new, and you're both experimenting to find your dynamics and get to know each other. you know that you have a lot to learn about him – you just never thought that this was what was hiding behind his cheerful exterior.

clement's apartment is completely empty by now, with scattered plastic cups filling the floor and the pop music turned off. you make it out of his room once you know the coast is clear, tiptoeing into the living room to find him sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. his knuckles are still bleeding, just like a few bruises on his face.

"i wasn't thinking, i guess," he mumbles, eyes strictly focused down on his lap. he leans back slightly against the couch cushions. "i know you're too innocent for these kinds of things... i shouldn't have told you to come here in the first place."

you shake your head lightly, removing the ice pack and instead reaching for the box of wound cleansing wipes you'd gotten from his bathroom. "it's my own fault for asking if i could come."

clement smiles as he looks at you. he's come to learn how soft-spoken, shy, and timid you are; how you have a way of calming those around you. it's one of the many things making him fall for you. he's never been with anyone like you before, and it's different in such a refreshing way. "don't be sorry," he hums. "you had no idea what was going to happen."

"does this happen often?" you ask, beginning to rub a wipe against the bruises on his knuckles. "do you get into a lot of fights at parties?"

he pauses for a moment. "well... stuff like this does happen at times." he sighs. "i know it's bad, but... sometimes, you can't control it. i'm just sorry you got caught in the middle of it." your wipe is quickly filled up with dried blood and other dirt, and when you bend over to the couch table to put it away, clement's free hand reaches your hip. his gaze is on you when you lean back, his hand giving you a quick squeeze as a slight grin makes its way onto his lips. "do you find it attractive?" he raises his eyebrows teasingly. "having a guy who knows how to throw a punch?"

"honestly?" your eyes meet his for a quick moment before you stare at his wounded hand again. your voice is lower than before when you start speaking again. "you're... it's a bit... scary..."

clement is shocked. he hasn't realized the effect this has on you – surely, he understands that you could be afraid of a fight, but being scared of him? it breaks his heart. the novelty of your relationship makes him a bit unsure of how to act around you, but he's worked so hard to build up your trust and to make you feel comfortable around him. to have it all be broken down in just one night makes his heart drop.

"oh, love..." he says. "you have nothing to fear. you mean too much to me," his hand moves from your hip to your cheek. "and i would never ever lay a finger on you."

you can't find it in yourself to look at him or say anything, but you manage to nod your head and take a breath before you start cleaning his hand again. he leans forward to press a sweet kiss to your cheek, your skin heating up where his lips had touched you. he smiles at you – until he looks down at your hands again.

"hey, you're shaking." a frown reaches his face, eyes flickering up and down between your hands and your face.

"oh, i am?" you ask, trying to focus on continuing to wipe his knuckles so you don't have to think too much about your feelings and the reality of the situation. "i didn't realize..."

"darling, you need to relax. it's been a long night." his hands wrap around yours, thumbs grazing over the skin of the back of your hands. "you don't need to clean my hands, i'll be fine."

"but-"

"no buts. i'm sorry for..." he stops for a moment, eyes studying you closely. "hey hey hey, you need to breathe properly. take a deep breath."

you hear his words, but you can't do what he tells you to do. your throat feels like it's closing up and your breaths get shorter as your head grows dizzy. it's all a downward spiral; your anxiety increases when you can't breathe, and breathing gets even more challenging as you get more stressed.

clement almost panics himself when he sees your state, but he must stay calm for you at this moment. he places a hand right below your collarbone while you shut your eyes. "big breaths, lift my hand," he says, voice low and tone soothing. his other hand reaches for the back of your neck, tilting your head back slightly to free your airways.

you concentrate on his touch, your short breaths through your nose only making your chest rise slightly. his thumb strokes the side of your neck as he breathes with you, demonstrating and guiding you in the hope you'll copy him.

"good girl," he whispers. his hand lifts and lowers with your breaths, quickly at first but the speed decreases as you calm down bit for bit. "you're doing so good. just a little more now..."

your thoughts are still clouded with anxiety but as more oxygen enters your system, your body relaxes a little. you focus on your breathing as clement's hand leaves your chest and moves down to your side again, moving up and down your ribs. the tears have been rolling down your cheeks for a while, though you haven't noticed until now, and the coldness of the tears brings you back to reality somehow, and you realize;

you're crying in front of clement for the first time ever.

you feel so exposed, naked, vulnerable. sobs begin to escape past your lips once you lean forward to hide your face in the crook of his neck, and he wraps his arms around you. "hey, it's okay," he starts. "everything is going to be okay. i'm here."

he presses a soft peck to your temple as a hand strokes the back of your head. your hair is still bundled up in your fancy hairdo but the halo headband you'd worn for the party is removed, the rest of your cute little white outfit covered up by the oversized hoodie you'd picked up from clement's bedroom floor. his devil's horns, ironic, are a bit crooked but still clipped to his locks.

"sweets, what happened here?" he asks, shuffling around to pull you onto his lap so that it's easier for you to hug him.

your head is still buried in his skin, his mild scent soothing as you sniffle. "i- i-" you groan at the way you aren't able to get any proper words out, the frustration blending with the panic and mixing into one big soup of despair. "i don't know-"

he rubs up and down your back, sighing. "okay, we don't need to talk about this right now. but," clement leans back slightly, taking your face into his hands and tilting your head up towards his. "if my fighting affects you like this, i'll stop it." his eyes are staring straight into your soul, and it feels like he's trying to prove that he really means his words. "you're the most important thing for me right now, i'm not going to lose you over something like this."

clement is shocked by not only his own words, but also his feelings. the two of you haven't been a couple for a long time, and yet, his heart aches at the mere thought of you ever feeling this bad again. he knows he can't let this happen again.

"i promise you that. okay?"

you nod, unable to get any words out, but it's more than enough for clement. he gives your forehead a kiss, and one on your nose, and one on both of your cheeks. then, he makes sure to press a quick one to your mouth so it doesn't feel jealous.

"how about this," he starts and you raise your eyebrows. "i go make us some tea, we drink it, and then we go get some sleep. how does that sound?"

"perfect."

he picks you up and puts you down on the sofa, tucking you in with a blanket before giving you one last peck and disappearing into the kitchen. you can hear his soft humming of a song you'd danced to earlier today, and you relax into the soft cushions.

clement's awareness of his actions, along with his promise to get better, makes a sense of calm wash over you; you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything will turn out alright after all.

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twilghtkoo · 1 year

Note

hiiiiii <33

hehe im here sending you a love letter cuz i right away think of you when this tiktok passed my tl since you always do bf!hyuck based on tiktok vid sometimes yes. so i dont want to be crazy alone while imagining that hyuck definitely do that to his gf 🥺🥺🥺

pairings. haechan x reader (f)

genre. fluff :'), established relationship

warnings. haechan is just the sweetest and most loving boyfriend

notes. thank u for the love letter ilysm :( <333 and it's ok bc every couple shit i see on tiktok my brain routes to being delusional @.@ ALSO i had a draft for this?? i was almost done w it but then tumblr deleted it????? or made it disappear???? 😭😭 like that shit was so well written i was up til 4 writing this shit and i had to rewrite this so i’m sorry if it’s kinda :/

—

spring is here, the days are getting longer and the nights are getting shorter, temperature is getting warmer, and flowers are beginning to bloom. a season you always despised because you hate how the sun’s beams get stronger and hotter, and you’re not much of a morning bird but a night owl. your sleep patterns have always been inconsistent but you always got a sudden burst of motivation to do random things late at night.

you remember a metaphor about spring your teacher had told you when you were younger; spring is a breath of fresh air. spring is an opportunity to turn over a new leaf. all the springs you’ve spent living in a continuous cycle, and suffering the loss of the cold spell of autumn and winter.

changes have always been hard for you to accept and hard to come to face with. so why was it so different with him? why were you easily soaking in his sunshine and warmth?

you can call haechan a book worm when it comes to you. you are his favorite book on his shelf and the only one. he memorizes every little detail about you, bookmarking a certain page of you to go back and relive the memory in his sleep. easily reading you by how you act and behave.

he would love to spend every spring the universe brings, if you allow him.

a funky, red, plaid pattern blanket you had bought recently specifically for this picnic date lies neatly under a huge, green sapling, hiding from the sun's rays.

you are going off about a certain topic you had learned in your psych class and how you were a little scared to do an experimental test with your class, but it was interesting to see the psychological tests can be used to improve your understanding of certain behaviors. he loves hearing you talk about your classes, as if with his difficult career, he can be a student with you.

an hour or two passes and the sun moved, the rays of sunlight seeping through the branches of the tree above you is hitting your skin and your bare legs that are uncovered from your short floral dress. you looked beautiful under the spring's sunlight. he makes sure to tell you every day, even if he doesn't see you in person. a simple text sent to you around the early afternoon, saying 'you are looking so pretty today sunshine'.

he wouldn't mind if each spring was like this. he'd wait til the next spring to be able to taste your sweet lips, the delightful smell of fruit, being strawberry. your favorite lip balm (and fruit) that you have expressed to him before and being shy after. he likes strawberries too, but he has a theory they would taste better from you. nonetheless, he'll wait. and when the time comes he'll bookmark that chapter from his favorite book and adding his thoughts and emotions from the events with you into a piece of text.

and if you both end up spending one hundred springs together, at the last spring you two share, he hopes to gift you the sincerity of his love with the thousands of pages written and printed about you.

he hopes spring has another meaning for you with him in it.

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mikashisus · 3 months

Text

Memories of You

“i’d cut my soul into a million different pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home. i’d write love poems to the parts of yourself you can’t stand. i’d stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you i’m not afraid of your dark.”

— andrea gibson

summary: In which, Barbatos reflects on a distant past, a time where he felt the cruel sting of first love.

pairing: venti x fem!reader

content warnings: death, angst

wc: 1.7k

author’s notes: this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile. decided to post it here since i dont want it to go to waste yk.

i recommend listening to iris by the goo goo dolls while u read! enjoy! <3

Aether shuffled his way through the busy streets of Mondstadt, craning his neck to look for the ever playful bard.

This time of year had rolled around once again: the time of the Windblume Festival.

Mondstadt was a romantic and free city, without the rule of royalty. And although many years had passed since the people last saw their beloved archon, he still wandered the streets as a carefree bard— an archon hidden in plain sight, though his "disguise" actually should've given him away a long time ago.

At the sound of singing, Paimon gasped and grabbed Aether's attention by pulling on his arm. "Look!" She pointed ahead, where Venti had been standing in front of the mighty statue of Barbatos. "The tone-deaf bard is performing again! Let's get closer!" She floated above the heads of the crowd, glancing back at Aether while he struggled to get to the front.

Akin to Venti's many other songs, this one told a story of a harrowing tale. Of a love found through festivals and flowers, of a maiden with stars in her eyes and a smile as warm as the sun.

She was as beautiful as the sky on a cloudless night, with grace like that of royalty. Every word she spoke flowed off her tongue like liquid gold, and each press of her fingertips were as light as a feather. Crafted from the finest marble and made to be worshipped like a goddess.

She fell in love with a boy, one filled with determination and courage. A boy who cared a little too much for others and never for himself.

A boy who sought freedom, up until the very end.

The story continued, with the girl clueless as to the boy's death. Not having witnessed his final moments and final words, she was left in the dark, never to know he passed on because his form was taken on by someone else.

His memory was preserved, and she found him after a long while of wandering on her own. Tears were shed, and wine was brewed in celebration, and as the Anemo Archon bestowed a blessing of protection onto her, he whispered to her through the wind and together they created what was now known to be the Windblume Festival.

The people of Mondstadt joined in, and the tradition was carried down through the generations. The song ended on a happy note, but Aether could sense there was something more to the story.

As the people around him clapped for Venti's stellar performance and eventually dispersed, Aether took his chance to finally speak with the bard.

"Ah, Aether! Paimon!" Venti greeted with a smile, his voice a little strained. There was something clearly wrong. "How are you enjoying another Windblume Festival? Is it as exciting as the others?"

Paimon hummed excitedly. "Mhm! It's so nice seeing the city decked out! And I bet you're having the time of your life with all this wine too!" She pointed accusingly to the wine left at the foot of the Barbatos statue, along with multiple bouquets of cecilias.

Venti laughed nervously before clearing his throat. "Shh!" He brought a finger to his lips and spoke softly, "Don't blow my cover!"

"Who was that song about?" Aether questioned, getting straight to the point instead of beating around the bush.

He knew Venti was familiar with whomever was in that ballad, as he knew many people throughout history and was knowledgeable on many events. He knew how the Golden Apple Archipelago was formed (because he was behind it), the history of all the festivals in Mondstadt (because he created them), and especially— what happened 2,600 years ago during the reign of Decarabian.

Venti's face fell, a solemn smile adorning his lips. "Ah, that. Nothing gets past you, does it?" He tried to lighten the mood with a small laugh. He sighed, "Meet me at Old Mondstadt. I'll tell you the story in full there. But first, there's something I must do. I'll see you there."

Aether nodded, watching as Venti disappeared into a gust of wind and dandelions. He followed the bard's orders and began to trek into the mountains, ignoring Paimon's theories and complaints on the way.

The wind blew especially hard here, a testament to the ruins that withstood time. He wandered the outskirts as he waited for Venti, taking in the breathtaking scenery.

A gust of wind blew his braid around, and he squinted his eyes until it died down a little. There was no doubt in his mind that that had been Venti making a grand entrance. He turned to his right, and sure enough, his suspicions were correct. The lonesome bard stood there with a look of nostalgia in his eyes and a small bouquet of cecilias in his hand.

"It was over two thousand years ago, before the fall of Decarabian," he began, his tone turning serious. Aether could tell he was no longer talking to Venti, and was now speaking with Barbatos. There was always a notable difference between the two.

Venti was a carefree bard who represented the true meaning of freedom. He had no worries and lived everyday to its fullest. He traveled the world and sang songs from the past, present, and even the future. He was jovial and exceptionally fun to be around. Barbatos on the other hand, was on the calmer and wiser side. He was full of regrets, and although being labeled the god of freedom, he wasn't free in the slightest. He carried the memories of his fallen friends, and held a deep rooted fear of the heavens above. He's seen the cruelty of the world, experienced it for himself, and drank his worries away until he felt numb.

He was kind and gentle towards his people, loved them with all his heart and protected them from threats. He promised them everlasting freedom, even if it meant giving up his own in turn for it. He never abandoned them, and always listened to the prayers they whispered along the wind. He tried his best to answer said prayers, giving hope to his people and blessing them with joyful days. He walked among them, saw them as equals and never as inferior.

Among the gods Aether has met, two have struck a serious chord within him. The gods of freedom and wisdom, two who were the kindest and most loving.

"I met a girl..." Venti continued, taking a sharp inhale. "Well... my friend did. The two of them met during the rebellion. They loved each other dearly, and before I knew what was happening, I had also fallen in love with her." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

"I watched as they lived out their days happily together, despite what was going on. I thought it cruel to wish that was me loving her instead of him, but... I supported them, because that was the only thing I could do." He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "And then it happened... my friend passed, and his final words to me were a song. I ascended to godhood not long after, and brought his memory back into the world."

"And now his form represents what the Anemo Archon looks like..." Aether said softly, receiving a slow nod in return. It was crazy to think about that: that the Anemo Archon statue in the city, and the statues of The Seven littered throughout Mondstadt depicted the nameless bard's form, and not Barbatos'. In fact, he never realized that until now.

"I couldn't let his memory be forgotten." Venti shook his head. "And now it never will be." A small silence passed as the three of them let that fact sink in. Venti closed his eyes and continued his story. "After his death and my ascension, I found her again. She was older— she was a mortal after all. And her beautiful features had not changed at all. Our reunion was bittersweet, as it wasn't me she was looking at, but my friend. It hurt, but I dared not tell her my true identity.

"We continued on, and I got to love her in his stead. I wrote her poems and sang her ballads, even sung some of the ones he dedicated to her. As the Anemo Archon and the god of freedom, I sought out peace and freedom for my people. I made festivals, one of them being the Windblume Festival. I dedicated the festival of love and cheer to her, and in the song I wrote about her, I tweaked the story a little.

"I changed it so that both her and I created the Windblume Festival. That way, she would always be a huge part of Mondstadt's history. Just like my friend."

"What happened after?" Paimon asked, a little too invested into this story. So much so, that she didn't realize how much of an impact her question had on him.

He bit his lip, his eyes turning glossy as he looked down at the cecilias he held tightly in his hands. "She died, never knowing what truly happened to the one she loved, and never knowing that I am Barbatos." The wind picked up, a clear sign of his bubbling emotions, and he made quick work to calm down. He couldn't be seen like this, vulnerable and upset. It tarnished his image as a jovial bard.

He led them inside the ruined tower, descending a few sets of stairs until they reached a spacious room. He walked ahead as the other two gawked in wonder, and knelt down next to a masterless vision. Her vision. He placed the bouquet of cecilias overtop of the vision, closing his eyes and paying his respects before he stood back up.

"It's okay, though. She didn't need to know that I am Barbatos to know that I loved her."

author’s notes: didn't realize until after i wrote this that the windblume festival was created FOR the anemo archon & not by him 💀 mb ig

barbatos created ludi harpastum tho, i do know that. i think i got the two mixed up when writing but wtv. we'll just pretend he created the windblume festival lmfao

this was written before the events of 4.0.

masterlist!

#genshin impact #genshin #angst #venti #venti x reader #aether #genshin x reader

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polydeuces · 2 years

Text

Di Tua Bontà

Chris Evans x fem reader

faceclaim - claudia tihan

requests temporarily closed

liked by lilireinhart, captainchris, and 39,292 others

y/nl/n: photos i sent to chris this week <3

the gray man is OUTTT go watch it and see the mustache on the big screen lmao

view all 923 comments

evanslover: girl… u should’ve kept these in the drafts

lilireinhart: gonna watch it asap but also, send me more pics like thisss 🥰

selenagomez: you're so cute and i love you but your dog is better

captainchris: fuck the hate babe. he’s the one for you.. remember that. love you

keke: BABE you are gorgeous!!! 😍😍

dianasilverss: I'm in love with you

y/nisover : dude you’re literally like 20 and he’s 40.. don’t you have a life? stop wasting his time

gal_gadot: Magic, you have such a beautiful soul!

chrisenews: now i KNOW you don’t plan on settling down any time soon but he does so why the fuck are you stringing him along?? make it make sense.

liked by evansfanatic, ana_d_armas, mybfchris, and 4,929 others

ilariaurbinati "Here stands a sexy, steaming reckoning for classic tailoring" - Esquire on Chris Evans' look at last night's Gray Man premiere! 😂🔥

Call it a vest, a tank, a beater (not particularly PC), an A-tee, a guinea tea (I can say that, I'm Italian), or call it whatever you want but we are into it with a suit these days, so here we are!

View all 3,929 comments

y/nl/n: one of your best looks girl i love you

ana_d_armas: you never miss

therussobrothers: are you trying to kill us !??

mybfchris: classy, elegant, amazing!! 😘

chrisl/n: our fav stylist/actor duo lets be real

evansfanatic: Ilaria, è bellissimo.

liked by ilariaurbinati, lizzobeeating, and 94,293 others

chrisevans: Press tour fun! Thank you for all the support and love. And huge thank you to ilariaurbinati for always making me look awesome on the red carpet.

It’s been a blast meeting fans, hanging out with the cast and crew.. but I can’t wait to head back home and see my buddy - dodger. Gotta take photos of him using my new phone. Though I’ll always miss my iPhone 6.

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y/nl/n: stealing your stylist, evans. she’s mine.

cevans: you should get with Ana instead of the chick your with now. You and Ana have a better connect anyways ➥ y/nupdates: uh Ana has someone, babe. maybe stop being so obsessed with a relationship you know nothing about? if you like Chris then you want to see him happy.. he’s happy with y/n.

sebastianstan: lookin’ good man! lookin happy too.

thiccandworthy: just found out your girl is in her like 20 or some shit.. crazy just find someone your own age ➥ chrisevans: No thank you, man. I'm pretty happy and she's happy. Thanks for the unwanted input though.

lizzobeeating: come home the kids miss you. . ➥ y/nl/n: i’ll be the new father since Chris isn't home.

yunggravy: y'all this man is a genius ➥ bbyy/n: YUNGGRAVY WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE 😭😭

➥ mtv: he better not ask for Lisa

➥ idontwikeit: mtv here too wtf ???

➥ yunggravy: nah man, his girl single tho? 😈

➥ y/nl/n: for you, Matthew Raymond Hauri, maybe.

➥ chrisevans: Uh, hello?

➥ y/nl/n: I love youuu Chris

#fake instagram #social media au #celebrityinstagram #y/n instagram #y/n smau #famous reader #fem reader #saturns masterpiece #chris evans x famous!reader #chris evans instagram #chris evans x reader #chris evans #y/n insert #Chris Evans fake Instagram #chris evans x you

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msmargaretmurry · 6 months

Note

ooh becky msmargaretmurry i have to ask about your rnh thoughts here because while i have never been in the oiler trenches and do not (Do Not!!!) intend to start now, i have been watching on the sidelines since the hall and eberle days and i LOVE to hear your opinions

oh thank you for asking anon!! for context i started watching the oilers on purpose in like 2010ish (i had a friend who was super into hall/eberle and i was NOT immune to that) — i do not claim to be an expert on any of this at all, this is just based on my own experiences and thoughts and ponderings. also for the record i think rnh is great. he is an oiler i am extremely fond of, and i'm glad he seems to have found a solid role there that he's content with and has found success in.

so to me the ryan nugent-hopkins of it all goes something like this:

when the oilers drafted taylor hall first overall in 2010, HE was supposed to be the savior of the franchise. the oilers had lost in the scf in 2006 and then immediately not made the playoffs for four straight years and no one was happy. they drafted taylor, hyped him up SO hard — this era was kind of the the advent of current Online Content era and they were making little videos of him arriving in edmonton, showing him around, fans recognizing him on the street. i feel like nowadays thall's stock as a player is like "good but not GREAT" but you must understand that when he was drafted first overall they were expecting him to be GREAT. him, plus hot young swedes linus omark and magnus pääjärvi, plus canadian world juniors hero jordan eberle had the oilers faithful (and the oilers front office) CONVINCED they were going to be turning things around. people were making t-shirts that said

HALL Omark Paajarvi Eberle

— HOPE, you see???

anyway obviously that season did not actually go that great. they finished last in the league. i think they won something like 25 games all season. and they wound up with another first overall pick, which was our boy, the nuge.

and the thing is, ryan was expected to be very good, but he was NOT expected to be the savior of the franchise. that was already taylor hall's job. there was a lot of concern his rookie season about him being too skinny and not strong enough to really make an impact at the nhl level yet (and to be fair, he DID look like a baby deer out there). the people and the powers that be were very much like, we're glad to have him, we think he'll be a great piece of this rebuild, but there was much more willingness to be like, okay well he might need a few years to finish baking.

rnh's rookie season was better than the season before, but it was still not good. they did not come close to making the playoffs. they were still very bad. the blue jackets were also very bad, and a friend and i drove to columbus and got seats on the glass for oilers/jackets for like $50. extremely funny experience, 10/10, do recommend.

(not relevant to this narrative but a very fun fact imo is that despite the oilers but godawful that season, 2011–12 had two of my favorite oilers games i ever watched: sam gagner's 8-point night against chicago, and a 9-2 win ALSO against chicago, who was one of the best teams in the league at the time. as a bl*ckhawks hater then and now, watching this clown car oilers team run roughshod over chicago brought me immeasurable joy.)

however, the only one of the young stars who was REALLY living up to expectations at this point was jordan eberle? iirc he lead the team in goals AND assists that year. the masses were starting to get impatient with the performances of the other young stars, especially first overall franchise savior taylor hall.

and the oilers won another draft lottery. (you can imagine at this point the rest of the league was already pretty sick of the oilers winning draft lotteries.) they drafted nail yakupov first overall. i am not going to dive deeply into the yakupov saga, because we would be here all night, but suffice to say that, no, he did not live up to first overall expectations, but also, yes, he was very much punished for Being Russian In Edmonton, and those two things cannot be untangled from each other. however, in the context of the nuge of it all, this leaves rnh in an interesting and particular spot: he is still not expected to be taylor hall, and wow he looks like such a nice pick compared to yakupov. rnh is playing pretty well! not all-star numbers or anything, but again, he's not the cornerstone of the franchise rebuild. he is an important brick, but not the foundation.

not like the rebuild is working anyway. with their arsenal of three straight first overall draft picks (and canadian world juniors hero jordan eberle), edmonton misses the playoffs for the seventh straight season. and then they miss them again. and then they miss them again. and it's not even like assigned franchise savior taylor hall is playing poorly — other than one slump of a season he is consistently putting up 50+ point seasons, including one 80 point season! but the oilers as a team are still a laughingstock in the league. it's not just that they're missing the playoffs. they are consistently near the bottom of the league.

to be clear, i don't think this was the fault of the players. i think the oilers were (are) pretty shit at management and were (are) pretty shit at prospect development. i think that when you have a team with that many decent-to-good players and you can't get out of the basement that the problem is systemic. but god forbid the front office take a good long look inward to diagnose the problem within themselves. no, the problem was that assigned franchise savior taylor hall was not doing his job (saving the franchise).

not that there wasn't any frustration toward other players, including rnh. there was frustration toward the team as a whole, but hall often bore the brunt of it. omark and pääjärvi were gone by around 2014. eberle was still well-liked but it was kind of accepted that he wasn't going to change the fate of the organization. the idea that the oilers needed to ship hall out becaue HE was the problem was in the air before the 2015 draft lottery.

and then the oilers won the 2015 draft lottery, and with it, connor mcdavid. people were not happy. (please click on this link it's so funny.) the oilers were so bad at this point that it was just generally accepted that connor going to the oilers meant the prime of his generational-talent career would be wasted by an incompetent team. honestly not really feeling like we've been proven wrong at this exact point in time!

however: connor mcdavid? brand new savior! way better savior than taylor hall ever would have been! the last five years of rebuild weren't REALLY a rebuild, the real rebuild was going to start with mcdavid!

and where is the nuge in all this? he has been pretty quietly plugging away, turning into a very good and reliable nhl player. a consistent 40–50 ish point player, not bad! fast forward a few seasons into the mcdavid era and he's putting up 80 points, 100 points! he's the longest-tenured oiler. the edmonton people and powers that be seem to really value him! which is really awesome.

this is not to say that there was never any "nuge should be better" discourse or any frustration with him when the team was doing so badly, because there was absolutely frustration with the whole team, including him. i do distinctly remember hearing the phrase "the oilers need more from ryan nugent-hopkins" more than once on the broadcasts. nuge finding his role on the team and the notable success he's had in more recent seasons has been a process, even though he hasn't ever been ~bad at the nhl level. however, imo, his positioning between noted disappointments hall and yakupov and also assigned saviors hall and mcdavid did put him in a unique position where people had a little more patience with him and blamed him less for the team's struggles than his fellow first overalls.

i do still miss the kid line sometimes though.

#ask #hockey for ts #thank u anon for letting me take this little trip down memory lane #also i was going to leave the coffeeshop and hour ago but i got so distracted by this 😂#all that being said does anyone else remember EXACTLY where they were when the oilers won the mcdavid lottery?#i have a terrible memory but i remember it in such exacting detail

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hideyseek · 5 months

Note

3, 29, and 30 for ao3 wrapped please!

craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaab hiiii hi hi hiiii hi hiiii hi hi hi hiii !! :3 hehe of course i love to fucking TALK about writing myself.

putting this under a cut bc it is the longest fucking thing in existence ahahaha. and also um, its moderately pretentious sorry! i sure am a guy who can talk about writing for like, seven bajillion years

ao3 wrapped

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

oooough hmm, kind of a tough one for me since i feel like there's a couple. but i'll go with this arthur/cobb drabble i wrote for wicked inception week 4. i hadn't known prior to this that i could write smut without writing it specifically to like ... be hot in some way. but in the end this was so much more like, emotions / character stuff happening and the sex was just a way to get to that information. that was cool. and secondarily, the process of writing this was one draft of like, technically a fic but genuinely incoherent, and a second draft of, oh, okay, this is different but its way more clear. which is also just like, a really nice reassurance that all the craft book reading and trudging through rough drafts of other projects really has strengthened my ability (for short fics at least) to get to the understanding of what i'm really trying to do in a fic. (it's here on the gdoc w/ everyone else's submissions if ur curious! warnings: semi-explicit sexual content, unequal power dynamics)

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

hmm aha, well. this year i wrote a LOT of not-quite-there rough draft material for a bunch of different projects which mm, if i comb through it all i will explode out of poorly timed insecurity. so, maybe a bit of a cop-out but here's a bit i wrote yesterday night that made me go: ohh okay, this is going to be fujioka's relationship with violence in this fic. so, favorite recent thing, i suppose:

Fujioka reaches over to take the last section of Haiji’s tangerine. Clean hands, trimmed nails. “We got one,” he says, chewing. “One— what?” There’s a bandage on Fujioka’s cheek, bloody at the edge. Haiji looks at it, and something chokes its way up his throat. “One of their guys, of course.” Fujioka’s face shifts into a grin, boyishly pleased with himself. A stitch breaks under the bandage and the gauze bloodies. “He tried to make a run for it, and you know we couldn’t have that.” Kakeru, Haiji thinks, and he can’t say a word.

favorite line in ^ is probably "A stitch breaks under the bandage and the gauze bloodies." i just. love VERBS!!!

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

ok truly SO MANY FUCKING SURPRISES while writing this year!!! but here i'll talk about all the smut writing, hehe. like!! the fact that i sat down and went "ok i guess i'll learn to write smut" is still SO surprising to me (crab this is like. 88% your influence i must tell you!!! like i guess the spark was in me all along or whatever but if u didn't run bcsdp this would never have happened to me, or would have taken much longer, etc). which then led to like ... some really wonderful conversations with irl and fandom friends, and then led to me doing wicked inception (smut drabble fest) and developing OPINIONS on how i like my smut written which i had NEVER HAD BEFORE IN MY LIFE (which. idk maybe i will go into later haha, probably i'll end up blogging about it as i write this arthurcobb fic). SPEAKING OF! wicked then got me to unlock a crucial emotional component to this arthurcobb fic that i've been trying to write since like, 2021!!! (this is long to me) and now -- that whole fic is ... WRITABLE. like i still know next to nothing about it except the premise and that there needs to be fucked up sex in there haha, but like. I HAVE ENOUGH SKILLS TO START IT NOW. like bwaaaaa truly it was just this INCREDIBLE domino effect from like, august (???) through to now that i would never have expected in my life whatsoever!!! ah so i guess really, thank you very much, i'm really glad you did that!!!! (<- bit of an understatement)

#hidey speaks #hidey talks fic #ask game

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levmada · 2 years

Note

at last, i have the time to send you multiple of these because i cream whenever i read something you write. anyway…

could i ask for levi… college au and call from this list? but levi is the one in distress? it’s usually common that the reader is crying, but it would be nice to see levi getting comforted too :’)

(from more hurt/comfort, if the link doesn’t work :s)

ik i just posted a long oneshot yesterday but my drafts are clogged. i fucking love comforting levi so this is the first of ur requests i worked on suki :3 i hope u like it

content/warnings: Kenny is actually not that bad?, negative self-talk, HURT/COMFORT SO MUCH COMFORT, death of a parent, taking care of Levi, college au, specific descriptions/themes of severe depression

wc: 2.5k

One muse calls sender late at night in tears and the other comes over to comfort them.

Levi knows, in a vague, peripheral way, that he is being shitty to you with no intention to. Not a day ever goes by where you two don’t talk, but he hasn't responded to Erwin or Hange’s texts, either. Emails from professors, too. Even Mikasa has been blowing up his phone since she heard from her mom what happened, but.

He has spent the better part of the past two days in bed since leaving class early on Thursday.

That’s fucking unheard of for him, especially answering his uncle of all people, but five silent, missed calls later Levi picked up, and down the line, Kenny’s voice was urgent.

Kenny. Urgent.

It’s the weekend, Levi rationalized to himself on Friday. Grades would be okay. His social life would suffer, but he would text you Saturday morning after he got his mental shit together.

The worst part is he fucking knew he was in denial—again, in the vague, peripheral way.

Now, with Sunday night’s moon glaring in through his bedroom window, he realizes he doesn’t give a shit about any of it.

A mishmash of tasks, far removed from any coherent list, bothers him from time to time—most often after he blinks from his perpetual frozen stupor to his phone ringing; besides Mikasa, you’ve called the most.

He needs to...

He realizes he’s been stroking his oily hair without realizing, all in the dark for however long, and stops. It felt soothing.

A shower. Dishes. He hasn't eaten much lately, but all the same. Homework... unless he emails his professors for extensions.

He has no doubt in his mind that he would get them, but just typing the words makes his train of thought derail into hell. Despite how vague he could be—“I need to attend a funeral.”; “There has been a death in my family.”; “I am experiencing a loss.”—heavy nausea twists his stomach in knots just to put the words together in his head.

He hasn’t changed out of your woolen sweater since Friday, the one with the panda bear. It’s also soothing.

But changing clothes is also on that list.

And he needs to call you, at the very least so you don’t lose your mind, or jump to the worst conclusions…

He’s being shitty to you by ignoring you, but the idea of reaching for his phone where it sits charging on the bedside table, the idea of rolling over, the idea of rubbing his eyes… It all feels as possible as flipping over gravity.

Laying in dead darkness isn’t going to make him feel any better, he knows. The quiet is piercing. The way he lays curled up under blankets isn’t unlike a corpse, either, but this deep in the hole, he’s struggling to get himself out.

He is not... in a good... place.

Bright white light washes over the ceiling as another call from you—that's your picture flashing, a candid photo he took of you almost tumbling out of your kayak from last summer—lights up his phone.

Move, he commands himself. It’s a foot away. Quit being pathetic and just. MOVE!

“Shit,” he croaks.

You’re worrying the shit out of them, you asshole!

After whipping the loose sleeve across his eyes, he lurches up and snatches his phone.

He forgot. The charging cable is yanked from the outlet and clatters on hardwood.

Shit. That couldn’t make the top fifteen on his list of priorities right now.

He tugs the cord from his phone and actually sets it on the floor at least. With his back killing him (from how long he has rotted in this fucking bed), he flops back and sluggishly rolls onto his side.

But as soon as he goes to press the green call button, it rings its last.

For a few unbelieving moments, he stares at his dark screen, not processing. The wider darkness turns blurry.

“Okay,” he whispers at last, and clears his voice of its rough edges in preparation.

It’s just like you to be up this late on a Sunday night; catching up on homework, probably. But he’s worrying himself sick over taking up the rest of your night. He doesn’t plan to go to class tomorrow.

He taps your contact through his stinging eyes, brimming with unshed tears.

And he’s worried about what he’ll say. He has practiced, wracked his mind for the right words, but he just can’t.

But it’s better you hear from him first. Eventually, you would find out anyway—Mikasa will tell Eren who will tell you in class tomorrow, he bets—and he can’t think of anyone else to talk to. No one that wouldn’t drain the life out of him, and-or make him feel somehow worse, and-or someone he can talk to when he’s like this.

The call rings once—no, less than once.

“Levi?” your breathy voice, full of exasperation hits his ear. His throat instantly lurches. “Are... Are you there? Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you since Friday. I thought maybe your phone broke, but—”

But you haven’t seen him in that class you have together, and no one else has heard from him either, he knows, but he lets you speak. He needs time to collect himself. And he can bathe in the sound of your voice for the first time in two hellish days.

"Levi? Baby?"

“I’m.” He cringes at the crack in his voice that already threatens to shatter. “I’m here.”

Your tone shifts into absolute concern. “There you are. I missed you.”

It shows how well you know him, you not asking what’s wrong directly.

His adam’s apple hiccups as he swallows, but the knot in his throat won’t give, and so a soft sob escapes instead.

“Shh...” He can practically see the surprise on your face. “Lev’ I’m here, I’m here...”

Eyes shut tight, he shoves his fist in his mouth in order to stop. The last thing he should be crying about is hearing your voice, you comforting him without even asking for an explanation.

“I’m here, sweetie.”

“…You’re n-not here,” he grinds out. He doesn’t know where this sudden flux of anger is coming from. “S-Something,” he gasps, crying, “Something happened.”

Your voice leaves. Quiet feels endless, until, “Okay, I’m coming over. And don’t you dare say no, if you were going to.” He hears a laptop slamming shut and the creak of your mattress when he strains his ears. “I’m on my way right now, so it’ll just be a few minutes, okay?”

It takes ten to get from your dorm to his apartment. “Don’t fucking speed,” he whispers.

“I won’t,” you tell him gently. He’s glad you don’t take that as a joke right now. “Promise.”

He shudders a tearful breath and smears his sleeve down his cheeks, which are wet.

The conversation is nearing its end: he hears the thump of a car door closing.

No part of him would have had the energy to turn you down. In fact, spending another ten minutes the same way he has spent the entire weekend looms over him now, encompassing.

“Could you...” Now he’s not only whimpering pathetically, but congested. “…Not hang up?”

“I was just about to say that,” you say. Your engine hums to life. “I can tell you about my weekend while we wait?”

He won’t have to talk, and not about himself. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Sure.”

The rest of the world fades out as you search for topics to ramble about, from your misadventures grocery-shopping on Saturday, to how shrimp-flavored Ramen is actually sinfully underrated, the flood in the laundry room...

He’s much calmer by the time your engine shuts off, but that only makes room for the numbness.

“I’m here,” you say down the other line. “Can I let myself in?”

Instead of getting ready, he forgot to move from his current spot—cuddled up to a fat pillow on his side with your voice set on top—since you got on the road.

“Yeah.” His absent voice is something between a grunt and a whisper. “But it’s… messy.”

Just as your keychain jingles down the other line, his front door down the hallway, in front of the living room, clicks open.

“Are you in bed?” you ask. He can hear you both ways.

Answering that question makes him feel like shit for some reason. “Sorry about the mess,”he murmurs, feeling shittier still, and hangs up.

And his place isn’t the only mess. His hair is a greasy nest of some kind, he can feel his eyes are swollen, and he got snot all over your fucking sweater.

Suddenly, he would rather rot away under these blankets the rest of the night than have you be subjected to him like this.

His bedroom isn’t your first stop. Maybe it’s because he didn’t answer your obvious question, so you’re giving him time to collect himself before he comes out.

Then in the kitchen, the sink starts running. Something clatters.

Are you doing his dishes?

His brow knits. He ghosted you all weekend, and now on a Sunday night he has you doing his dishes. Guilt like a fucking tsunami drags him under.

Yet, it’s still impossible to stand.

His eyes sting, pricked by fresh, unshed tears.

Compared to his usual habits, he has slept ages this weekend. He feels himself drift and doze to the tune of the dishes making small racket, even through the faint whistle of the kettle. It feels unimportant, like background noise.

He stirs though, as the mattress sags by his head. His phone makes a soft thunk as it’s placed back on the nightstand. Something clicks back into the wall.

Those tears from before make their appearance, so he turns his head so his face is in the pillow. His first breath has him struggling; he cried so much he can’t physically breathe through his nose.

Your warm voice chimes through the darkness. “I made some tea. Can I turn on the light so you can drink it?”

His nails dig into his palm. “The,” a breath through his mouth, “lamp.”

Beyond the pillow’s gentle realms, he hears a click before a faint glow invades the dark. A hand floats down to his shoulder, and rubs, but he doesn’t make himself move.

You must have at least some idea of the kind of state he’s in now, yet you still haven't asked the obvious.

You knew Mom’s health was getting worse, unexplainable symptoms for an unknown illness, but not... Not what happened on Friday. Not that he didn’t even get a chance to hear her voice one last time. Not Kenny’s call.

“I’m right here,” you tell him. “Everything’s gonna be alright, sweetie.”

Are you an angel? Your hand cards his wet bangs off his face, and he cringes. He knows the grease doesn’t matter to you, but it does to him.

“I didn't ask you to do all that,” he protests weakly, unmoving. By the shift in the mattress, he can tell you’re reaching for tissues.

They’re precariously balanced on top of the pillow. “Do you want a change of clothes?”

He shudders a sigh without really meaning to, he’s so mentally exhausted. Clearly he won’t be getting anywhere in terms of complaining, so he does the bare minimum of pushing himself up on one arm. Without looking at you, he takes a tissue.

Your free hand is right there, though. He reaches, and shyly takes that, too. When you squeeze, he squeezes back a little too quickly.

A fresh cup of steaming tea waits on the nightstand for him.

“Thanks,” he mutters, head still downturned.

“Always.” You pet his hair down. “I’ll start the shower.”

“Okay.” His voice breaks. “Thanks.”

Properly sat up, he finishes the incredible cup of tea you brewed before you even get back. For one thing, he can’t remember the last time he had anything to drink, and he’s been losing a lot of water. Plus, you’re the only one who knows how he likes it, and… it comforts him in a way little else can.

Once he’s done washing up under the hot water, having stood there long enough for his hands to prune, he changes into the navy pullover, briefs, and sweatpants you brought for him.

Now he idles in the doorway, still not quite believing you’re not an angel. Another steaming cup waits on his nightstand, and you’ve been cleaning up more. His made bed has clean sheets, and the rest of his dirty laundry is gone. You even re-organized his desk.

You look up from your seat at the foot of the bed as the bathroom door peeks open.

Usually, you get onto him for his cleaning habits. Then again, he never, ever cries in front of you.

“Hi.” You smile faintly. “It’s okay. You don't have to talk about it.”

He looks down and away.

“But… can I stay the night?”

“Yeah.”

But he won’t be going to class tomorrow, and he can’t say that a shower and some tea will be enough to shake him out of this. It won’t be. He doesn’t want support like this while you don’t even know why—to him it feels unfair.

You scoot back on the bed, the springs whining under your weight, and untuck the sheets. For how impossible everything felt earlier, nothing could have stopped him from climbing into bed and crawling into your arms.

You both settle down. The blankets are pulled up to his shoulders, which you wrap your arms around.

“I like that shampoo.” You kiss the top of his head.

He blinks mildly. Mostly, he just listens to your heart. “Thank you.”

In the mirror, it looked like he had applied red eyeshadow, the bags under his eyes dark beyond belief. The swelling is a little better after a hot shower.

“I don’t wanna keep you in the dark,” he explains. Those must be the most words he's spoken all weekend.

You wait while carding your fingers through his damp hair.

“It’s Mom.”

“Oh.” The word leaves you like a punch. Your soothing hand stutters, but doesn’t stop. “Is she getting worse…?”

He hesitates. He doesn’t know how to say it. “No. Not anymore.”

Silence.

“Oh, Levi.” You take him further into your warm caress until he’s all but curled up on top of you. Your hand strokes his back up and down.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” you whisper, a touch heavy. “I’m so sorry.”

He squeezes you tight, trying to burrow into your arms, and shuts his eyes even tighter. The feeling that sits in his chest, begging him to cry even more, returns at full-force.

He doesn’t know what to say to that, because it will never be okay.

You offer to email his professors, maybe tell them in person, so he can have some much-needed time to grieve. Even his homework you say you can do, but he turns you down on that one. It’s enough that you just...

“…stay. Here.”

“You have me,” you reassure into his hair. “I got you.”

Enter the event here!

#levi x reader #levi ackerman fluff #aot hurt/comfort #levi ackerman x you #levi fluff #levi hurt/comfort #levi ackermann x reader #levi x y/n #levi attack on titan #levi x you #captain levi x reader #captain levi x you #aot levi #levi fic #1k.event #g.scribe

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soranihimawari · 1 year

Text

24-hour smudge proof

A short about something I saw earlier:

Word count:

Pairing: friends->lovers: kuroo x reader

Rating: 17+

Warnings: two 18 year olds have miscommunication & make out

Notes: in my inbox drafts for a while…unedited 😑

𝖴𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅， 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗍 ．𝗀𝗂𝖿 𝖨 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖺 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌

You remember the first time you tried the new Revlon Color Last lipstick. It was advertised as a 12-hour formula for lasting lipwear. Smudge proof. You nearly hugged your television when you turned eighteen. Y’see your school and even your parents were on the side of “no make up unless special occasion (or club activities for festival days)” where as being in the makeup department for theater and arts club were the specialty clubs excused.

You loved to paint, more with eyeshadows and foundations, yet here you were at eighteen, sprucing up your natural makeup with a Sakura-pink hue. It’s the most flattering pink you own outside of Barbie doll fuscha and not as mature as Snow White Red which came out that year. Contrary to popular belief, you had just been asked out on your first date by your classmate since middle school—he played a team sport and on good faith asked if you were free Saturday night. Mentioned he’s been thinking about confessing for a little over a year now, so you agree. Today was just a test date, you remind yourself in the mirror. Liking each other has little to nothing to do with this. Little do either of you knows you’re about to embark on learning a more intimate part of the other.

So, you board the nearly packed train to the aquarium. A few minutes go by and you see him at the entrance. He’s dressed just as casually as you are, and you notice he has a small token in his hands. He hands you the hair pin with a cat on it.

“Flowers were too expensive,” he sheepishly apologizes.

“Thank you,” you smile telling him it’s alright. “I think these are way better Tetsurō.”

You’re calling him by first name? His heart nearly falters at that. Blinking golden irises mask the blush forming on his cheeks. Jesus, you should warn a guy when you’re gonna call them by their name, his inner voice says.

“You look cute,” he gets his bearing right.

You compliment his outfit too. He holds your digital tickets on his phone and a polite, “shall we?” is heard.

You hold his hand as you take the lead in guiding him in where you want to go. Both of you explore the monthly exhibits and the classic shark aquarium. You take photos together with a seaside frame. He keeps the bottom two that print and the top two go to you; you’re securely tugged into his side and the bashfulness in your closeness is masked by a near kiss when your lips almost mark the corner of his mouth. He slyly teases you by smiling a bit wider a little more shocked in his expression on the second picture. maybe it’s your favorite one because for a moment, though brief, you can say with confidence, Kuroo Tetsurō, Nekoma Third Year, the scheming captain, had eyes only for you.

The rest of the date goes on as sweetly planned. It ends around dinner time and you coincidentally knew of a small French restaurant that won’t break the bank. He walks with you, talking about how excited he is for inter-murals to start.

“I’ll be there,” you smile. A small fist is raised moderately high and you hear him chuckle.

“You better be,” he holds your hand and pushes it down.

“Kuroo…,” You don’t fight the comfort his hold brings. Rather, you relax your hand in his.

“YLN.”

“…I, how can I say this?”

You’re nervous, he can tell by how tense your shoulders are becoming.

“I’m not the one you should be here with,” you say after exhaling a deep breath. There is a brief look of embarrassment on his features. Still worried about that? Why? He ponders.

“If you’re implying I should be here without you, then perhaps I wasn’t very clear when I asked you on this date,” Kuroo leans forward to bring a kiss to your knuckles. “I lied about using you to go on this date because I liked someone else.”

You feel your blush only adds to the stunned look you give him.

“Eh?!”

“Shh!” An elderly couple hushes you, unaware of what had transpired. Kuroo shrugs and you lean back uttering how you’re going maim Morisuke for gossiping behind your back.

“Hey, hey,” Kuroo brings your out of your two step plan to ruin Morisuke’s chances overseas as a joke. “Breathe.”

You do exactly that and as you calm down, you hit your head on the table with an a abhorrent thump!

“Should I come back?” The waiter had graciously brought you your meals, but alas, when your non-date-date explains, the server just rolls their eyes saying it’s the fourth time this week. You nervously laugh saying to come back, apologizing for the scene.

Over the course of the meal, Kuroo is an open book to any and all questions concerning his newly formed affection for you.

“About a month ago?” You nearly choke on your chai tea.

“Promise you won’t beat me up too?”

You nod. “It depends.”

And so, Kuroo enlightens you the thing known as ‘the list.’ All captains of the sports team have a yearly list of people they think are highly attractive.

“It’s for the yearbook, that’s how it started,” he explains.

“…okaaay…?”

Then it dawns on you, someone put your name on the list. That someone being the jerk who couldn’t take no for an answer.

“And I told him no one can have you unless I try first.”

“How chivalrous of you,” you muse, yet you have a darker expression set in. Kuroo thought you were angry about being on the list, you were, but that’s not why.

“So you basically asked me out to save me the embarrassment from some other guy?!” You’re whisper yelling now. “That’s even worse than being asked out on a date or a bet! Tetsurō, we’re friends, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Are you really that mad at me?” his voice is more shocked than anything. “Oh, oh no.”

You’re pretty face looks crestfallen when you abruptly stand, thank him for spending time with you, but you leave. He doesn’t have the heart to stop you, it was a fifty-fifty chance you’d be highly upset. Kuroo didn’t know it would be the worse possible outcome.

You don’t talk to him for three weeks. Avoiding the captain is easier because outside of the shared classes you have third years, you pay him no mind. Kai and Morisuke are mortified when Kuroo tells them what occurred, but one of them enlightens their captain as to why you were so angry (something about it’s your choice who to date and who to decline that privilege and though his heart was in the right place, Kuroo took away that power of choice from you).

Within that time, the silence had become too much. You still talk to the others just fine from the team, but you still ignore your friend. You’re having trouble processing the fact he not only confesses, yet finding out about “the list” as the motivator for Kuroo to finally confess doesn’t sit right with you. Texts and calls slowly diminish until the screen with his name has been made up of dry humor and possibly even drier “how do you do’s.” None of which go answered for days at a time from you.

Kuroo eventually gets sick worried over how cold you’re being. First it starts with him being more introverted than before. It was like he reverted backward to when he was in elementary school: shy and observant. Then came the skipping of meals or barely eating because he would spend lunch breaks with you or vice versa; his bentos usually taste the best when shared, so why would he eat only a little less than half? After the terrestrial downpour which started over the weekend, Kuroo forgets his umbrella and catches the worse cold he’s had since the flu came around the first year hallway two years ago. You don’t find out any of this until you’re pulled out of class by Kenma of all people.

“Kodzuken?” you say flatly. “Kuroo sent you too?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“You’re here about what happened?”

The duo toned kid nods.

“I know about the fabled list. I’m on it, aren’t I? Did you know too and you’re here to beg forgiveness on his behalf?”

“…he’s been dealing with a fever, so he’s not here, I’m here because I told our mutual best friend to tell you the truth and he does care. He’s an idiot you’ve known this.”

“Rewind, he’s sick?”

“Kuroo’s been sort of depressed since he came back to school and he’s been stressed since the upcoming practice match with Karasuno. So,” kenma looks at you. “What are you going to do?”

You never bounced your leg out of habit with anxiety, yet you do so as you sit on the train en route to Kuroo’s. He may be an idiot, but you still care. Sure, you needed a month to process, yet Kenma of all people talked you into seeing the scheming captain on a whim. Your texts and concerned voicemails are delivered, but not replied to, so you take it upon yourself asking for extra worksheets and assignments used for his classes. Kuroo and you were varied, but balanced students, so it was no problem to hand over the coursework to you. The teachers were grateful, even Nekomata-sensei.

“Team and practice needs their captain, yn-chan,” he pats your shoulder.

“I know,” you answer. Small smile drags across your face.

Now outside the door with the inscribed Kuroo plaque, you knock on the door twice. By the third and final “panic” knock, Kuroo swings the door wide open. His gel pack on his forehead slides askew, he’s wearing a Christmas sweater you got him with sailor moon motifs at the bottom, and his nose is a little pink. Kuroo is worse for wear, but boy does his heart leap when he sees a concerned you fussing over his cold. His pajama pants are a day old and he stands aside while you bully yourself into his abode.

“…and these are from physics, college algebra one, and—”

“YN,” he interjects.

You ignore him.

“Modern English and Japanese are here in this folder, history there…”

“YN.”

He is holding every paper you hand him, placing the neat stack on the kitchen coffee table now. Stepping toward you, peeling the gel pack off, Kuroo grips your shoulders, relief written all over his features, and he shakes you gently after explaining you can stay if you like.

“We have time,” Kuroo gives you a soft stare.

You frown with your brows, but his clammy hand cups your face instead. Heeding his request to breathe with him, he sort of wears a lopsided smile. You’re here, for him, worried and upset he didn’t take care of himself like he normally would.

“YN, I’m fine. You’re here to make sure I didn’t die, yes?”

“But you got sick because I stopped talking to you, Kenma said so.”

Kuroo waits for you to stop rambling on about how you heard second hand how he got sick. His palm never stopped rubbing your cheekbone. You ramble when you’re worried, he can hear the unsure breaks in your voice.

“Oi,” His body stands closer to you now.

Quickly, one arm steadies your shoulder, the other snakes around your hips and he abruptly pulls you forward and higher. Your eyes focus on the ground instead of where Kuroo’s seem dead set on. You continue going off about derivatives until Kuroo leans down and kisses your lips shut. It’s a bold move, one he’ll regret later passing on his cold to you, useful and effective. You feel his smile against yours when you instantaneously hold him by his plush sweater. The stronger the grip you have, the more you’re losing your stance on annoyed refined and well placed anger—then it takes you a full fifteen seconds to start kissing him back. He gasps a little when you sneakily slide an arm across his broadening shoulders. Gods you drive him insane, even if you want to part, you can’t because the second you do, Kuroo’s breath dances across you Cupid’s bow.

“Can you be quiet for a second?”

Your noses bump against the other as you nod. Eyes opening back up wide, yet drowsy have a flirtatious gleam reflect back to the other. You inhale briefly tilting your head to one side a little curious in the expanding silence.

“Good because I’m about to kiss you again with your permission, ok?”

You blink, understanding whatever he just said meant and you easily lose the shake ground you formerly stood with him. Hungrier and greedy, that’s what his lips are; tender with promise are how his arms holds you; and when you lead, you feel his heartbeat through the sweater. Your cool hands sneak underneath the fabric and he stutters, almost slipping his tongue into your mouth again.

“Careful,” The word is swallowed by your mouth on his, returning the adoration felt from him.

This goes on for five plus minutes until he pulls away to a disappointed you. He sort of chuckles when you answer if it was something you did. Pulling down your uniform shirt and you his sweater, you stay comfortably close.

“No,” Kuroo slyly smiles. His hands play with your hair trying to smother it down now. “You just…?”

“Mm, so I did,” your middle and forefinger press against his pursed lips. Mirthful laughter behind graham cracker hazel eyes and your stifle giggle has kuroo biting an embarrassed smirk into the crook of your neck. You’re affectionately running both hands through the roosters nest of noir hair and he thanks his stars you forgave him.

“Don’t care about some stupid list,” you say. “And yes, whatever we are now, we’re going to be just fine…”

Kuroo just lets out a sputtered laugh before biting your cheek affectionately.

“Be my girlfriend,” his voice is saccharine brimming with forgiveness. His lips press against your higher cheekbone this time, feeling the muscles twinge with a small smirk. You remain quiet though. “Please, YN?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I think my sick boyfriend should go back to bed, hmm?”

You pat his shoulder when you wiggle out of his hold in his family kitchen. Unbeknownst to either of you, the front porch door chime had rang signaling someone’s return home. Thank goodness you two sat at the kitchen counter talking about how math these days are filled with nothing but the minimum calculus equations both of you have come to like; physics can wait.

Both Kuroo and you, for now, talk about finding limits, yet the laws of thermodynamics can wait when he shows up to classes two days later and you? Over the weekend, you text your boyfriend from bed, cursing him out for all those times you and him spent time together (though brief) because now you’re about to find out just how spoiled being Kuroo Tetsurō’s significant other actually is. And believe you me, it’s quite fun having him come over with some rice porridge from his granny, have him help you out of your blanket burrito, just so you could sit side by side and watch a comfort film—typically a musicals—and a majority of the time he comes over after you beat the flu, he helps you test out all twenty four color last lipsticks. His favorite one? The one you continue buying for three years until they discontinue the old formula.

#🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #sora after hours #haikyuu x reader #🌻. dash #friends->lovers: kuroo x reader #sora scribbles 2022

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ranpd · 5 months

Text

AVA MY BLEEBINI EVER i wrote smth abt her n her brothers after they finally come home….also meohara crumbs. this has actually been sitting in my drafts for like 2 years and i finished it last night at 3 in the morning apparently so. here u go @zurxmxru

—

It had been almost a month since they’d come home.

Tense didn’t cut it. It was more than tense. Vin exchanged a look with Vee— they were sitting at the dining room table drinking coffee, while Ava was in the kitchen. A month they’d been home, and they’d barely even spoken to their sister. It’s not like she was around a whole lot, to be fair. She was always out of the house, murmuring something about a job she had to do, even though most of the time she was taking nothing but her purse with her. Speaking of which, Vin thought, turning his head, Ava was leaving the house now— her purse tossed over her shoulder and an iced coffee in hand. As soon as the door lock clicked, Vin slapped his hand on the table.

“This is BAD. We have been home for a MONTH. And we’ve barely even talked to her! She’s never home; just making up excuses that she’s going to work!” he exclaimed. Vee nodded.

“If she was going to work, she’d take more than her purse. She’s lying to us, but I can’t say I blame her,” he replied.

“We should do something. Make a nice dinner. Get to know about her life. SOMETHING. This is not going to do.” Vin looked determined, and looking at Vee, he knew he felt the same. And so they got to work.

They knew Ava would be out nearly all day, so they had a while to plan and get everything set up. They cleaned the house, cleaned the kitchen- and just for fun they cleaned JuJu too (amidst this they found out they could dry her with a hair dryer. This resulted in the fluffiest JuJu had ever been which also looked pretty funny.) Finally, after hours of preparation, they had a dinner made and set up, and just in time— Vin thought, checking the clock. It was right around the time Ava got home. They put a candle on the dining room table and lit it.

And now they wait.

They didn’t have to wait long— just a couple minutes after they’d sat down, the door cracked open. What was different was that she was smiling, chattering happily on the phone. She looked around as she walked in and her face fell. “Hey love, I’ll call you back later. No, everything’s fine. I’ll tell you later. Love you,” she said rapidly into the phone, then shoved it in her pocket.

“The hell is this?” Ava asked. Not quite the response they were expecting, they thought, looking at each other.

“We made you dinner.”

“You know I might’ve eaten out, right? You could’ve wasted your time.”

“We wouldn’t know because you won’t talk to us,” Vee piped up. Ava went silent. “No matter how much you try to deny it or avoid us, we’re your brothers. Your family.”

“You stopped being my family the day you left. End of story. And I’m not eating your food, whatever you made. I’m not hungry.” She went to storm off to her room, but her stomach rumbled loud enough for even JuJu to perk her head up at Ava. She let out a sigh and, grimacing, sat down at the table.

Awkward wasn’t even close to sufficient. It was dead silent, other than the quiet sounds of forks scraping plates. The twins had intended to talk to her. Find out what they’d missed in the ten years they’d been gone. None of that happened. Ava’s face was filled with disdain, along with something deeply more complicated.

“Oh, hey. Who were you on the phone with when you came in earlier?” Vin asked.

“None of your business,” Ava grumbled in reply.

“Was it your girlfriend?” Vee asked, completely nonchalant.

Ava nearly choked. “I SAID it’s none of your—wait, did you just say girlfriend?” Confusion now overrode the previous disdain on her face.

“Are you not gay?” Vee replied in equal confusion. Ava’s face turned bright red as she raised a hand to shield part of it.

“God, if YOU figured it out that quick, then everyone else…”

“Are you closeted???” Vee was incredulous. “With the pink highlights and the heart motif? No way you think people in public think you’re straight.”

“Vee,” Vin warned. Ava was just quiet, staring down at her plate. For a moment, Vin was worried she was going to either cry or leave before she piped up again.

“Yeah. It was my girlfriend.”

Both the boys instantly perked up.

“Oh my goddd! Little Avie has a giiiirlfriend! What’s her name? What’s she like?” Vin laughed, leaning forward on the table.

“Don’t call me that!” Her face flushed again. “Her name’s Hibiki.”

Something about that sounded familiar to Vin. He turned to Vee, praying his better half remembered. It looked like it, because he was staring with narrowed eyes at their sister.

“Like the one you knew in kindergarten??”

Oh my god? Vin thought.

Equal shock passed over Ava’s face. “Yeah. From back in kindergarten. She goes to my school now.”

“I thought she moved,” Vee mused.

“She came back.” There was something in Ava’s voice that wasn’t there before. The hollow tone she took was replaced with something fond. Something warm.

The rest of dinner continued more pleasantly than it had began. The twins found out a lot of little details from Ava about her life (and a few details indirectly as well—she couldn’t cook, and besides, she didn’t want to be in the kitchen a whole lot.) Despite the tension lowering between the three, there was still an underlying feeling of something missing. Someone missing. Three empty seats at the table emphasized it. The respective heads of the table had been empty since Ava was six, so that much hadn’t changed. But the seat to Ava’s right, just across from Vin, sat empty. That was the most disturbing of it all. In the face of finally getting family back together, they felt the loss so much more.

After dinner, they all went back to doing their respective things. Vee got a drink, which was completely legal now (and still weird to Ava, because she remembered when it wasn’t and that still didn’t stop them), and Vin set up cleaning up dinner. Ava, however, went upstairs to the balcony outside one of the bedrooms. She didn’t want to think about whose bedroom it was. It didn’t help, because the sun blazed ahead of her in its painted glory. She remembered someone telling her a long time ago sunsets were one of the ways the dead visited the living. Who told her? Her memory blurred. Her dad? Vin? Her? Everything clashed, and before she even could process it, tears were running down her cheeks. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying to halt the sobs rising in her chest.

“Ava?” Vin called from behind her. He’d followed her upstairs, she guessed, and since she could hear a second set of footsteps, she also guessed Vee had followed. They walked up to either side of her, hands on her back in an instant as cries overtook her. Through watery eyes, she stared up at the sunset.

“Do you see it?” she asked, her voice weak. “The sunset?”

Her brothers looked to the setting sun, then back to her. They understood. She could feel it.

“Maya looks so beautiful tonight,” she whispered through sobs.”

For the first time in ten years, the four of them were reunited at last.

#ghostwriting #ava meorida #dels oc garden ❣️#meohara

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