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#i cannot tell you the last time i did something for myself and myself only
fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 months
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Terry Pratchett about fantasy ❤
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Terry Pratchett interview in The Onion, 1995 (x)
O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?
Terry: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.
O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.
Terry: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.
O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.
Terry: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus.
Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.
Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.
(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself.
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jilixthinker · 2 months
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slowly to me
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=͟͟͞♡ virgin!felix × noona!fem reader
=͟͟͞♡ bestfriends/roommates to lovers
word count: 7.4K
content warning: explicit sexual content, sub!felix, soft dom!noona reader, felix is a virgin, corruption kink if you squint, mutual masturbation, clit play, fingering, cock play, dirty talk, unprotected sex (as usual), creampie, they are clueless idiots in love.
a/c: i wanted to write this for the longest time and now i am kinda nervous sharing it because it feels more personal (?) and intimate than usual. hope you will enjoy it ♡
=͟͟͞♡ please, consider reblogging if you like my works!
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[00:17 AM] fefe 🧚‍♀️
noona 💙
are you awake?
please tell me you are
I can't find my keys 😪
i know it's late
don't hate me
You blink your eyes open a few times. The sound of your phone buzzing on your nightstand is insistent over the chattering noise coming from your laptop. You must have fallen asleep more than 30 minutes ago, considering that you are not familiar with the episode of the anime you are currently watching. Your fingers brush against the cover of your phone and you finally grab it with a sleepy grunt. When you unlock it, not without typing the wrong code twice, you notice that your chat with Felix is already open, a few notifications popping on the screen.
[00:18 AM] fefe 🧚‍♀️
noona 😪😪
[00:18 AM] you
where are you now
[00:18 AM] fefe 🧚‍♀️
outside 😪
noona, my savior
my only light in the darkness 💙
You force yourself to sit on the bed as you yawn. When you read the last text, you chuckle despite of how sleepy you feel. It's a little bit late to be coming back home, even for Felix, but you don't mind. Felix usually stays awake till dawn, always prone to chat and watch tv series together whenever you cannot sleep. You help each other in your own ways, yours being the responsible counterpart in your household.
You find your slippers with your feet and you finally stand up, heading outside of your room and to the corridor. It's pretty warm already this time of year, and you don't even bother putting on something over your light pajamas. It's just Felix anyway, he did see you at your worst so many times that you cannot even remember.
When you open the door, Felix is fighting with the zipper of his denim jacket. He is dressed casually, almost as if he didn't put any effort on what he was going to wear. A pink hoodie is picking out from his black slacks, and his hair is styled in a messy bun, a few locks escaping from the hair tie and covering his eyes.
"Noona, I owe you." he huffs, offering you a toothy smile as soon as you let him in.
"Don't mention it. I don't even have plans for tomorrow morning, I can just sleep in." you yawn in response, plopping on the couch and closing your eyes again.
Felix hums and throws his jacket on the nearest chair of your shared living room before letting himself fall next to you, face immediately finding its favorite place into the crook of your neck.
"How was your date?" you ask him, circling his shoulders with your arm and letting him scooch closer to you.
You feel his cold nose nuzzling against your collarbones and you chuckle, bringing your hand to the top of his head and starting to untie the loose bun. Felix puffs and you can hear his lips curving into a small pout.
"As always." he mumbles. "He was cute. Funny. He paid for my order."
You nod, and your fingers find their way up to his scalp, scratching it lightly and pulling a soft grunt out of his lips. "But..." you add, waiting for the inevitable epilogue.
"But..." he shifts from his position to lay down with his face on your lap. "- I felt nothing. He was very handsome, and smart. He was nice. I could tell he would make a great boyfriend. But I just looked at him and... I couldn't see myself kissing him, or touching him. It felt like looking at a nice painting, you know? I don’t know what is wrong with me."
"Nothing is wrong with you, Lix." you murmur in the dark. Your thumb moves from his soft locks and start circling the plump skin of his cheek. Felix huffs again and rubs his nose against your lower stomach. He does it often, and it makes him look like a small kitten looking for some comfort. Your heart always sinks at that.
"I am serious." you continue. "Feelings cannot be controlled. It's not your fault if you didn't feel attracted to him. Maybe he just wasn't the one."
Felix looks at you from his position, his big pleading eyes are a little tired.
"And who will be the one, noona? I am 23 and I didn't find a single person yet. I didn't even... you know." Felix lets out a sarcastic chuckle. "Can you tell how hard is it to reach this age without experimenting with anyone? I feel left out."
"Does it bother you so much? Being a virgin?" you ask him. Felix and you are used to talk a lot about everything without any sort of embarassment, but he only mentioned the topic of his inexperience a few times in your many years of friendship.
You didn't believe him at first. Felix was... Felix. The most precious human being on earth, smart and kind, generous and funny, witty and reliable. Your bestfriend, your proclaimed soulmate, and the prettiest person you've ever seen. Him being a virgin sounded like a joke to you. He confessed it when he was 18 at the time, and he was a little tipsy after a few bottles of beers you two had shared after moving into your new apartment. You could tell it was an uncomfortable topic for him, and you never asked him again. You just told him that he was young, and that the situation would change quickly in the following months.
But years passed, five to be exact. And Felix didn't have sex with anyone. He finished college, started working and met people, he started dating even, but as soon as the people he was seeing asked him for something more, he shut everything down and disappeared from their lives.
"It does bother me, yes." he answers quietly. "Because I am not afraid of intimacy itself. I just... don't feel the right attraction. I want to, but I can't. All these pretty boys I met, and the furthest I've gone is kissing. I don't know what to do, noona."
Felix shudders and you pull him closer to you. His voice is almost a whisper and his breathing is getting a little heavy. Your fingers go back to stroke through his hair gently, as you try to calm him down.
"Have you considered dating girls?" you ask him. "You told me you felt more comfortable with them."
Felix's arms circle your waist as he hugs you tight. He looks at you intently with a shy smile. He looks so tiny all curled up like this.
"I do love girls. More than boys actually. I thought about that a lot." He murmurs as he pulls you so close that your stomach is pressed completely against his cheek. "But I feel shy around them. I cannot help but thinking that I would mess everything up. With boys... it would be easier. I know how a male body works. But I have no clue on how to, uh —"
You chuckle at his words and you lean forward to pinch at his nose, amused by his reaction. "How to touch them?" you smile at him.
Felix laughs and lets out a breathless sigh. He pulls away slightly, though keeping his eyes locked on you. You can see a light blush appearing on the apples of his cheeks.
"Uhm, yes. That." His voice is still playful, but you can hear the nervousness in his breath as well. "You know I have never kissed a girl before. Just boys. Uh–, I know nothing, noona." he exhales.
You scrunch your nose and you let yourself relax against the sofa behind you. Felix's arms are still linked tightly around your waist. "There is nothing to be ashamed of, Lix," you breathe out. "Human nature will do its thing. When you'll find yourself in that situation, your body will know what to do."
"I'm not so sure." he murmurs, starting to rub his nose against your hipbone, sniffing at the fabric like he always does when he is feeling a little overwhelmed.
Your hand finds its way toward the back of his neck and you apply a slight pressure on the skin there. Felix lets out a shaky breath.
"You will see. With the right person, you won't feel uncomfortable at all. It's normal to don't know stuff, you know. We've all been there. And each body, each person, is different. You can figure things out along the way, by asking and learning." You try to reassure him. "It's not a performance. You should just focus on feeling good and let the other person feel good too. I promise it's not so complicated as you think."
Felix hums quietly and a mellow silence falls around you. The room is still dark, it should be around 1 a.m. now, but a beam of moonlight shines through the window, reflecting small glimpses of silver upon Felix's hair.
Felix feels small and soft on your lap. He is still hugging you, and you know him enough to sense that he is restraining himself somehow. You can feel the distress in the way his tiny hands are fisting the cotton of your pajamas around your waist.
"Lixie, sweetheart..." you murmur, voice little higher than a sigh. Felix holds tighter on you, as if he is scared of you running away. As if you could.
The fact is that you love Felix. You always did, in a way. You cannot tell exactly when you fell in love with him, but it happened sometime between your last year of highschool and your freshman year of college. You remember Felix grabbing your hand when you graduated in summer, sweat under your dress from being exposed to the hot sun, waiting for your speech. You remember him intertwining your fingers and smiling at you with devoted eyes when he helped you moving in your new dormitory. You remember him wetting your shoulder with warm tears because you were going to be separated from each other for the first time. And, oh. At a certain point you just knew.
You never talked about that, of course. You didn't think you needed to. Things between you were perfect already, and you were happy you've managed to slip neatly into your routine. Felix needs you in a way nobody else can comprehend. And you need him too, in a slight different way. And it's okay, you've always been good at managing your own feelings.
"Noona..." he answers timidly.
"What are you thinking about? I can hear the sound of your brain working no stop." you shrug, looking at him. The moonlight looks the ideal light to admire him, you find yourself admitting.
Felix looks over at you, his lips upturned with a reluctant smile. "It's just... I don't think I will ever find this person." he sighs softly.
"Why so? I cannot imagine anyone who wouldn't want to be with you. You are perfect." you say, eyes jumping down to Felix's delicate frame. His button nose covered in freckles scrunches a bit over the line of his plump lips. They look moist. They must be soft.
From his gaze, you can see that your words are the last thing Felix was expecting to hear from you. "Because–" he stutters while the pressure of his hands on you becomes almost too much, "–there is already... ugh, nevermind."
The silence that follows his semi-confession is heavy on you. You freeze at the admission, and you can tell from his eyes that he didn't mean to let that slip. That's it – you think – there is someone. Someone who Felix cares about, maybe that he even loves, and that is keeping him from living his life freely. Someone who apparently doesn’t reciprocate his feelings, given that Felix is trying to see other people and complaining about them with you.
Fuck, that hurts. You could have seen it coming, but it still hurts.
You open your mouth to formulate any sort of coherent words of encouragement that you can master, but Felix decides to move from his position at the same time you shift on the sofa to look at him. The impact of your bodies gives gravity a push, and you both go down with a loud humph, landing on the couch with your limbs all entangled. Felix groans as his back collides with the leather, and you open your eyes to check up on him, only to stop as soon as you realize how close you are to each other.
His lean and warm body is all pressed up against the cushions, and suddenly any trace of stoicism has fled the situation. You don't even remember what you were going to say, to be honest. All you are conscious of is Felix's body and the way his eyes are looking at you, making you flush with an unknown tenderness. You take a deep breath and the realization that you can feel his parted thighs caging your hips and his arms pawing at your shirt hits you hard. And maybe it's the late hour, maybe it's because you've spent the last hour talking your hearts out – and the last years repressing your feelings –, or maybe it's because Felix looks so vulnerable like this.
Whatever it is, instead of laughing everything off and move from this awkward position, you keep looking at him as some strands of hair fall onto his forehead and his breathing gets a little quicker. You find yourself thinking that maybe this is the most beautiful Felix has ever looked.
"Noona." he murmurs, and you can feel how the air shifts around you. His make-up is a little bit smudged around his eyes, you notice, and you lift your hand to rub at the corner of his eyelid with your finger. Felix trembles lightly as you touch him, and desire tugs at you, pushing you towards a path that you know is not wise.
"Noona–" he breathes out again, this time not much louder than a whisper. "I want to try something."
"Felix," you say unsteadily as Felix's hand grabs at your pajamas a little more firmly. "This isn't a good idea."
"Why so?" he asks, voice all tiny, shifting closer to you anyway. Everytime you try to look away from his lips it's like your eyes have been glued in place. "You said that with the right person it wouldn't feel uncomfortable. I– you.. I don't feel uncomfortable with you."
You sigh at his words. You are sure there is almost a thousand reasons why you shouldn't be doing this. First of all, Felix doesn’t love you. Not the way you do, at least. And he is hurting now, he is sad. He is not in the conditions of taking such a decision. But you can hardly manage a coherent thought right now, with him being this close to you.
He doesn't like you back, you cannot do this.
"Felix, I am honored that you trust me this much. I really am." you manage, but your voice sounds faint. "But this is not the right thing to do now. You don't want it to happen this way."
At that, Felix pauses and looks at you. He bites his lip, as if he was looking for the right words, and his eyes looks different, almost watery. "Don't you..." he stutters, "am I not good enough?"
You blink in confusion and a thick layer of guilt fills your stomach to the brim. You hate seeing Felix in distress, you cannot stand the way his timid smile leaves his face. You would give him the moon if that would make him happy.
"Oh no, Felix, sweetheart," you confess, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. The freckled skin feels soft and warm under your fingers. "this is not what I meant. I just– fuck," you swear in protest. "I just don't think I am the right choice. You deserve the right person for this."
Felix’s gaze fractures and he suddenly lets out the tiniest sigh, a pleading look framing his delicate traits. He turns his face to the left, leaning on your touch and he rubs his nose on the palm of your hand.
"Noona, you are not the right person. You are my person." He shyly admits, voice muffled on your skin. "But I can understand if you don't want this. If you don't want me the way I do. I am sorry for bringing this out, I should have kept that for myself."
You freeze, guilt becoming dread and pooling on your stomach. Oblivious to any of this, Felix gives you a small, sad smile and continues, "I tried to ignore it, believe me, I did. I kept myself from feeling this much because I knew it wasn't the same for you. But I can't help it, noona. I started seeing other people in the hope that it would eventually fade away. But it didn't. And now I am making a fool out of myself." Felix looks over at you and his smile is not the one you are used to see on his face. "Sorry for ruining everything," he sighs, "I just love you."
Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
You feel a fist of air being pushed out of your lungs like a truck. Felix's eyes are big and sweet, and a single tear escapes from his lashes to roll down the apple of his cheek. You fucked up. You fucked up so bad. You misunderstood everything. Guilt nestles in your chest like a stone, scraping at your heart.
"Felix," you say, your voice sounding foreign and groggy, "Felix. You love me? You love me?"
Felix's eyes jump down to your lips just for a second, and then back at you. He sniffs as he brings his free hand to his face, rubbing the tear away. "I do." he admits. "I really do."
The truth in his tone has you let out an inaudible gasp. Then, in the span of a second, just the time of a blink, everything changes.
"Say it again." You whisper as your eyes lock into Felix's. And then Felix opens his mouth, just barely, and his muttered words stay still on the tip of his tongue.
"Say it." You repeat as your thumb shifts, stroking slowly along his jaw and down to his chin. "Wanna hear it again."
Felix blinks, and he looks like he can't come up with something to say at all. "Noona, what are you, uh–" he gasps when your fingers catch his bottom lip, pinching it a little to enjoy its softness.
"Lix, sweetheart..." you whisper, letting your face fall slowly down to his neck. The insides of your tighs press against the outside of Felix's as to trap him there. "You want me, uh? You love me?" you tease him, your hand coming up to steady him by the chin, keeping him still while your mouth finally founds the tender skin of his neck and you place a single peck under his earlobe. "I wanna hear you saying it."
A weak whimper makes itself known at the bottom of Felix's throat when you angle your head to the side and leave a humid trail of kisses all along the column of his neck. "Noona, I... why are you – ah – why are you doing t-this?" he mutters with a sigh.
You grin against his skin at the sound of his affected voice, and you nose at his chin blowing another tiny peck there. "Just say it." You repeat.
Felix's eyes are semiclosed now, but his pupils are wide and dark, and your grip on his jaw tightens a bit. Just another wet kiss on his Adam's apple is sufficient to convince him to give you what you're asking for. "I want you." He grumbles as his legs start to tremble under your weight. "I love you." He breathes.
And that's it. Felix doesn’t have the time to even realize what is going on before you are pressing down with purpose, your lips firm against his and your hands buried in his hair as he lets out a tiny sob. His mouth is cherry red and sweet, and your lips slid against it, applying just the right amount of pressure to have him melting against the couch. The kiss feels almost electric, and the low groan Felix exhales bubbles up into the back of your throat.
Felix is soft, and his body becomes malleable and pliant beneath your touch as soon as he clings onto you with fervent hands, a little desperate to keep hold of how good he is feeling. He moans beautifully every time your lips detach from his to catch some breath, and his fingers find your face too, curling against your cheeks and keeping you close to him.
As soon as your tongue licks languidly at his bottom lip, his mouth opens up to let the warm muscle slip into his mouth with a low grunt. You can feel that Felix is not experienced in the way he is unable to do anything but tremble with pleasure in the bracket of your arms as your lips glide against his, slick and wet. He lets out another whimper when your tongue licks at the roof of his mouth and your head feels dizzy and heavy with desire.
You cannot remember the last time you felt this good and this right, to be honest. Felix’s confession is still lingering in your brain as your hips press against his in a swift movement, coaxing a soft moan out of the boy under you. You smile in the kiss, feeling as if everything in the universe is finally in its designed place and, at the same time, all condensed in the way the two of you are wrapped up in each other so tightly that you can’t keep track of where one of you starts and ends.
Reluctanly, you force yourself to separate from Felix's tender mouth just a few millimiters. "Lix, baby," you whisper lovingly on his lips. "You have no idea how long I wanted to do this."
"Y-you wanted this?" he pants, parting his legs more and allowing you to slot your body inbetween of them. His breath is sticky and hot and you feel yourself getting restless on top of him.
"Sweetheart. You have no idea how much I love you. How much I want you." You confess.
"But... but you've never–" he stutters under your gaze. "Oh God, don't tell me we've been this stupid!"
You chuckle and nod slowly. "Apparently, yes, we have been." You smile, and your chest is so full of fondness and love that it's hard to breathe. "And we wasted a lot of time. But at least we're here now."
Felix nods timidly and you lean in again, this time just kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin under his chin. You move closer to Felix's ear and then back towards his jaw. He starts to breathe harder, hands clutching the shirt of your pajamas, and his thumb brushes against the hardened nub of your nipple, making you hiss quietly.
Felix moans when you start licking at his lips again.
"Good?" you ask, smiling against his skin.
Felix nods. "Yeah. Y-you can keep going."
You comply, because you could never deny anything to him. You softly suck his upper lip between your teeth and let it go with a loud pop. Then you move to his neck again, and you bite him carefully a few times until Felix starts to squirm beneath you. The thought that you are the first person, the first woman, doing this to him has heat rushing to your face and you wonders if Felix wants to do more, or if he wants to keep things over the clothes. You are okay waiting. You've waited for years.
"Can I… can I ask you something?" he stutters when your hands find his hips and you start caressing them in tiny circles.
"Of course, Lix. You can ask me anything." you reassure him, rising your head from the crook of his neck and looking at him fondly.
"You know what we were talking about before," he breathes shyly, eyes big and teary. "I wasn't able to do anything with all the people I dated because... they were not you," he admits. "and – uh, I don't know how to say this. It's embarassing."
Felix sighs as he tries to hide his face behind his hands, but you stop him by grabbing his wrists.
"Do you want to try? Now?" you ask calmly, ignoring the burning lava that is flooding into your veins at the thought of having Felix like that, just for you.
Felix nods again, all soft and timid. "I wanna try. With you." He mutters as his hips buck involuntarily against yours for the first time. And that's when you notice that Felix is hard under you, cock stirring to life when you grind down into him as a response to his movement. "B-but I don't know anything, noona. You have to show me."
You hover your face over Felix's for a moment, searching something into his eyes before diving in again for a kiss. Felix hums languidly against you and you pull his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it before letting it go slowly, teeth dragging. Felix groans deep in his chest and you can feel the vibrations go straight to your pussy. Then the realization that you are finally doing it hits you.
You. And Felix.
I need to stay focused, you think when you start feeling your head becoming too clouded with desire. Felix feels so tender and warm against you, and it's difficult to concentrate when your arousal begins to pool in your panties, just a few layers of fabric separating your core from Felix's poor neglected cock. The kisses get sloppier but Felix doesn’t seem to mind, and you quickly find a rhythm between the movements of your lips and the gentle rocking of your body against his.
"What do you want to do, sweetheart? You can tell me." You hum as your mouth latches again onto the spot between Felix's neck and shoulder, sucking and then soothing the skin with your tongue.
"Ah, fuck…" Felix curses when your hand finally trails down his chest and lightly grazes his cock from over his pants. He feels sensitive and overwhelmed in the best way possible, and he feels like he is losing his mind already. "W-want to touch you, noona, please. Please, I've been wanting to touch you forever."
A tiny moan escapes from your parted lips at Felix's confession and you are pretty sure that your panties are now ruined for good. You can feel the hot stickiness gluing them to your entrance.
"Okay, baby." You sigh, shifting your weight in order to lift your hips a little from Felix's body. "You can touch me. I'll show you how. Is that what you want?"
Felix pants and his fists close again on your shirt as if he's trying to steady himself. "Y-yes please. Show me." He answers, and he looks completely blissed out, hair as a messy crown around his beautiful face.
"Okay." You concede, gathering all of your weight on your right arm to pull down both your pajamas shorts and underwear with just one quick motion, air finally hitting pungently the heath of your pussy.
Felix gulps and you see his Adam's apple bobbing deliciously as he stares at the way a sticky string of slick is connecting your entrance to the cotton of your panties. You feel your core pulsing at the sight and you let the garnments fall on the ground, climbing back to Felix's body and straddling his lap.
Felix looks up to you, but his eyes keep flicking back between your face and the mound of your pussy, and you try to thrust gently against the hard fabric of his jeans, just over his hardened erection. When you rock your hips tentatively on his bulge, your clit gets caught on the cold metal of his belt, making you hiss. Your pussy throbs, releasing a gush of arousal over where Felix's cockhead should be.
"Lixie, baby." You breathe out. "Noona needs your hand for this."
Felix cheeks are as red as cherries and he hiccups at your request, nodding twice and pliantly offering you his right hand. He places it just near your thigh, not daring to get any closer to your heath without any given permission.
You smile softly at him and you wrap your thumb and index around his wrist, bringing his palm to the front of your pussy and letting it brush against the hood of your clit for just a second. "I guess you watched porn before, uh, baby?" you ask him grinding gently on his hand. "I think you know a bit about female anatomy already."
Felix sighs and a wanton moan rises from his throat when he feels your engorged clit bumping against his skin. "Y-yes, I have." He blushes.
You laugh breathily at his shyness and you let his hand slide past your front to eventually press on your labia, guiding his slim fingers to spread the wetness gushing from your hole.
"Usually I prefer to be stimulated here," you say, nudging the pad of his thumb against your sensitive bud. "In little circles." and you move your hand in tandem with him, circling your clit and trembling a little from his insecure touch. Another spurt of arousal drips from your pussy and coaxes Felix's fingers, making him moan.
"But now I want it inside." Your voice is sickengly sweet, and Felix looks like he is one step away from hyperventilating. His teeth dig on his bottom lip and he sighs in pleasure.
"Please," he whines. "Please, let me."
You roll your hips so that the tips of his fingers catch your entrance, and suddenly you sink down in just one motion. His middle and ring finger meet you halfway, and he watches your face in adoration as the two digits push into you. You let out a small whimper when his palm finds your mound again, and you finally sit on him fully.
"Ah – noona. G-god." He keens as he feels his fingers being wrapped up with your warmth.
You lift up from him, desperate for some friction, your hand still grabbing his wrist to guide him and help him. "Baby, fuck, finally." You grunt as your hips swing forward and back to create a sort of rhythm. "Wanted you like this for the longest time, you have no idea."
Felix mewls as he hears the squelching sound of his hand against your throbbing cunt. The schlick schlick is filthy and loud, and his head starts spinning. "Noona, you are so soft, so warm. Fuck, why are you so wet?" He cries, eyes big and round and locked at the way your pussy is engulfing a part of himself.
The drag of his fingers makes your head floaty and you grind further down onto his knuckles, the stretch making you want more and more.
"That's how it's supposed to be with a woman, sweetheart. We are programmed to take." You chuckle breathily as you slowly but steadily fuck yourself onto Felix's fingers. "But you are too, right? My sweet boy. You are just taking what I am giving to you, isn't it?"
Felix moans and his pads involuntarily curl upwards, brushing against your gummy spot as his head falls back, deep groans tumbling out of his parted lips. "Ah – too wet noona, too wet. I wanna, w-wanna..."
"What? What do you want, baby? Tell me, I wanna hear." You sound rightfully out of breath while you fuck mercilessly Felix's digits and you flood his hand with your juices. You shift forward to kiss him on the mouth and his palm finds your clit again, sending jolts of pleasure through your spine.
"Wanna... w-wanna be with you. Please, noona, I've waited. I need – oh, God – I need you fully. I l-love you so much, I always wanted it to be with you." He sighs against your mouth before you can slot your lips together and lace your tongue on his, sucking the wet muscle slowly until Felix is reduced as a squirming mess under you.
"Oh my sweet boy, my angel," you praise him as you try to slow down your movements. If you keep going with this pace you will cum too soon, and you want to finish together with Felix for your first time.
Felix follows your mouth and with his free hand he timidly brushes your left breast, staring at the way it bounces with every thrust of your hips on his hand. It looks mesmerized by the way your body moves and gets wet over him, preparing itself to welcome him inside even if he doesn't properly know what to do.
With a low grunt, you force yourself to stop your thrusts and you peck Felix on his tumid, soft lips. His hand falls uselessly on his hip while you balance your body on his waist to finally get rid of your last piece of clothing, throwing the filmsy shirt of your pajamas away.
Felix looks at your naked body as he if he was admiring a painting and, despite of your confidence, you find yourself blushing a little under his devoted gaze. You dreamt about this moment so much, pondering that it would never come, and now it feels almost surreal to have Felix all for you as you always wanted.
"I love you, Felix." You whisper lovingly, a tear stuck on the corner of your eye. "I love you so much."
And Felix beams. His eyes, watery with pleasure, lit up and bring a smile to his beautiful face, the face that you wished you could caress and claim as yours for so many years. "I am yours, noona. Please, make me yours." He murmurs softly.
You kiss him again, and it's hungrier this time, even more than the kisses you already shared. And then the kissing melts into licking, and then into biting, until Felix's hand finds your waist and then falls to cup your ass.
"I need you out of these clothes in 10 seconds." You mutter with a breathy sound, and Felix is fervent to obey, quickly getting rid of his pants and underwear and throwing his pink hoodie away, far from you.
When you crawl back into his lap, Felix is sitting on the couch. You find your place on his legs, straddling him until you are face to face and you can hear the sweet sound of his erratic breathing against your ear.
"I want to do it like this." You breathe out, gently nipping at his lips and then placing a small kiss at the corner of his mouth. "Wanna see you."
Felix sighs and his aching cock, now finally free from the constriction of his pants, throbs against your lower belly, spurting a gush of precum which dribbles into your navel. "I can't believe this is really happening." He hiccups, pleasure making his head feel dizzy.
You smile fondly. "Me neither." And you bring your hand down, resting your hot palm over his shaft and giving pressure until you are dragging the skin of his cock up and down. Felix melts with a breathy mewl.
Felix has a perfect cock, you think, and then you say it out loud. "You have a perfect cock, baby."
Felix gasps and he throws his head back, hitting the cushion of the couch. You can see that his face is flushed with arousal and embarassment, and that makes you feel lightheaded.
"So perfect," you continue, playing with your fingers and bringing your thumb to the engorged tip, smearing the thick droplets of precum all along his aching muscle until you graze his balls. "Perfect size, perfect girth, perfect color. You know how pretty your cock is, baby? Not too long, but chubby. I love it."
"Noona," Felix sighs painfully, thighs parting under your weight to give you more space. He looks fucked up, and you barely touched him.
"I want to play with it forever," you say, picking up your pace and jerking him fully. "And I will do it. I will touch this sweet cock all day long, making it cum so many times, making it feel so so so good."
"Please, please, please." Felix keens and throbs again on your hand, now hard as a rock and trying to stay as still as he can.
"It looks so tasty, too. Wanna slurp it in one bite." You whisper as you swirl your index on the slit of his cockhead and Felix lets out the sweetest groan you could imagine. It's so easy to pleasure him, and he responds to you so well.
"But not now," you reassure him. "Now I need you inside of me. Need you as deep as you can. Need you to be mine."
Felix forces his eyes open and his hands grip into the underside of your thighs, bringing you closer to him. You cross your arms behind his neck, slotting your lips together once again because you just can't get enough of Felix's breathy moans as you bring him to the edge with you.
"Noona, I don't, ah– I don't have a condom." He urges to tell you when you circle your hips against him and his tip catches the entrance of your pussy.
"We don't need a condom. I am on the pill, and I am clean." You pull away to mouth at Felix's neck, and you suck at the column until you are gliding your mouth over his Adam's apple. "And you are too, obviously. Don't worry about that, sweetheart. I need to feel you all hard and raw inside of me."
You kiss Felix again, breaths coming out in restless wisps, hips frantic. "Can you take it?" you ask against his lips, your right hand gripping Felix's wet cock. Felix nods, gulping loudly. With your arm reached behind you and your head dipped forward, you slap the tip against your cunt, eyes never leaving his face.
Felix swallows, and you can feel his heart racing as you nudge his cockhead against your heath, pussy clenching and unclenching for pleasure. You look at him in the eyes for one last time, and then you sink.
When Felix's tip breeches, you whimper at the stretch with you head lolled to the side. You push your hips down, taking Felix's chubby cock slowly until you’re seated on it. And, with his cock fully inside, Felix groans and tears finally spill from his eyes, wetting his cheeks and rolling down to his chin.
"Ah– oh, God, please! P-ple eh e-ease." He cries as he grips your hips so tight that he is gonna leave marks.
"Easy, baby. Easy." You pant, eyes rolling on your skull at the way the head of his cock presses perfectly on your spongy spot. Felix's tongue lolls out from his mouth, and you take the tip between your lips, suckling lightly on it before lifting your hips up and then slamming back again.
"It's too tight, too tight, too w-wet," Felix sobs, a dribble of saliva forming a tiny bubble at the top of his upper lip. You lower your head to look at the way you are taking Felix to the brim, his swollen balls resting on the curve of your ass, and you let out a lewd sound at the view.
But it's not enough, because this is Felix's first time, and you just know from the way he is trembling that he is not gonna last long, the poor angel he is. You played with him a bit too long considering his inexperience, and now you can feel him twitching inside of you, bringing you close as well with just a few pumps.
"I know, baby, I know. You feel so fucking good too. You fill me so well, look." And you take one of the hands that are gripping your hips, making it slide against your pussy to let him feel the point were you two are connected.
Felix grasps the base of his cock with his wrist and he tries to push it even deeper inside of your wet heath with a loud groan. "It's so, s-so good." He repeats mindlessly.
You gather all of your strength, gripping into Felix's shoulders in front of you and letting you knees carry your weight as you finally begin to ride his cock. You raise your ass up just to feel the tip catch at your rim only to force back down, fast and hard.
"Noona, ah– noona!" Felix grunts out, "F-fuck, I can't, I c-can't!"
At a particularly deep thrust, Felix cries out again, a slew of filthy words and many slurred versions of your name coming out of his red, juicy lips.
"Baby, Felix, baby." You moan, letting yourself fall against his chest and beginning to move your hips in circles. You feel his cock hitting deliciously at your cervix and your clit rubbing on Felix's hip bone.
"I lo-oh-ove you." Unable to help it, Felix begins to thrust up quickly, grinding his cock inside of you and smashing his warm cheek against your shoulder, as you involuntarily squeeze your walls around his shaft.
You are trying to make this last a little bit more, but a tight coil of pleasure starts to form in your lower belly, and Felix's heavy and raspy whines tell you that he is in your same conditions. "Feels so good, sweetheart. So thick and hot, you are making me cum, ah– so quick." You blabber, head feeling floaty. "Are you close too? Tell me you are close. Wanna come with you."
Felix hiccups and his thrusts become messy and erratic, cock leaking inside of you as you clench around him. "Close, close, s-so close." He picks you up by your thighs to throw you onto his cock as if you were weightless. "Can I, ah a-ahhh, w-where can I–?" he sobs out with every thrust.
"Inside, Lix, my love. Cum inside," you praise him. "So good to me. So good." And you whine as Felix fucks desperately into you, a thick layer of sweat on his freckled skin.
Two more pushes are what it takes to have your pussy clenching hard and tight around Felix, and as your clit rubs one last time against his pubic bone, your eyes roll backwards and you cum with a filthy long moan, flooding Felix's cock with your juices.
As the orgasm hits you, you smash your lips against Felix's and suffocate your whines on his mouth. As soon as Felix feels you pulsing around his drooly cock, you see him going cross-eyed. Then, he pushes almost violently into your heath and comes with one final, deep smash of his cock, filling you up.
Voice hoarse with pleasure and a little out of breath, Felix moans softly, face finding its comforting place in the crook of your neck. "I love you." he whispers.
You both stay silent for a couple of minutes, and you loll your head to the side to huff warm breaths that tickle Felix's temples.
"How do you feel?" You asks, bringing your fingers to slowly pet Felix's damp hair. You tongue feels heavy inside your mouth, and your legs muscles sting. But you are happy.
"I feel like I waited for this moment for my entire life." Felix's words are slow and shy, despite of what just happened between the two of you. You can feel him chuckling against your shoulder. "I still have to process what is going on."
"We have time." You murmur, kissing his forehead and hugging him lovingly, keeping him safe in your arms. "Now we have all the time in the world."
Felix smiles. The room is not dark anymore.
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©️ jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.
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carakook · 2 months
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Shut Up .・。.・゜✭・.
╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗
“If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”
🔞FOR MATURE AUDIENCES🔞
Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader
Synopsis: After taking a job as a co-writer, you quickly find that you and your “boss” just don’t get along. Constantly butting heads, disagreeing on things, and he isn’t even nice about it. He’s a fucking dick. He’s always criticizing you in embarrassing ways, but you’ve tried to be patient, ride it out. Over the short time you’ve worked here, the tension has built quickly, and it is clear both of you cannot stand each other. Unfortunately, today is the day you reach your limit after he humiliates you in front of several of your coworkers… and the “conflict resolution” is definitely something you did not expect.
Genre: Enemies to lovers (or hookup in this case), workplace affair.
Pairings: Boss/Writer!Namjoon x Co-writer!Reader
Word count: 7.5k+
Warnings: 18+, Heavy smut!! Hate sex, protected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, face fucking, light slapping (not in the face), a bit of spit play, face fucking, cussing, crying (sort of), heavy conflict, degradation, arguing, name calling, a bit of teasing, cum eating? (Sort of), dry humping, face humping, being slapped with dick (lightly), Let me know if I missed anything!
⚠Disclaimer⚠:This story does not in any way reflect the character of those who are mentioned, it is totally fiction and just for fun. Please don’t take it seriously.
A/N: Hiiii! This is my first one shot. I’ve actually had it in my drafts for a long time but never posted it, I decided to finish it recently and post it here. I hope you like it! I love writing, have soooo many drafted one shots/full on fanfics with each of the boys. A looot of them are with Jungkook, can’t help myself. He’s my lover… 😭 Anyway, if you guys end up liking this I’ll post more. Thank you so much for reading if you do!
╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝
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.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
There aren’t many things you regret in life. Because if you allow yourself to regret things, you overthink. Overthinking is never a good thing.
See, it wasn’t awful at first. But the moment you met Kim Namjoon, you could tell he had a problem with you. What? You didn’t know. You still don’t know. But he never bothered hiding it.
You powered through, because this was sort of like a dream job for you. You loved writing music, writing lyrics. It was hard to even find a job like this to begin with. So when you got the callback, you jumped at the chance. You were so excited to be working here, and you were familiar with Kim Namjoon. You thought his songs were beautiful, his writing style seemed similar to yours.
Boy, you were wrong.
Not even a week into working here he was heavily criticizing you. But again… you pushed through. Because you were new, he had a right to be picky. This was his studio, he was technically your boss… technically. So you tried to be patient and listen to his criticism.
Which didn’t last long. Because he was not subtle. Arguably, there is a difference between constructive criticism and being blatantly rude and picky. Namjoon was straight-up rude. And at times it was embarrassing.
Nothing you did seemed to satisfy him. Every single time you brainstormed with him and the team, he disagreed with you. Every time you proposed lyrics, he rejected your ideas. Every time you so as much opened your mouth, he had an issue with what you had to say.
You tried to be patient… you genuinely did. But you don’t like feeling disrespected or embarrassed. And you certainly don’t take shit from anyone. So the last two weeks you’ve both been bickering, and the tension is noticeable not only to you and Namjoon but to the entire damn team.
The worst part about it all? You are so fucking attracted to him. He makes your tummy swoop with butterflies. He smells good. He’s tall, his dimples are fucking adorable, and his body… god, he is to die for. The sexual tension is prominent.
If only he wasn’t such a dick.
Today pushed you to your limits. Never in your life have you been more embarrassed.
It all started with a song he was working on. He played the beat, and immediately you were inspired. You got excited. Your attitude was bright, and you immediately jotted the lyrics down on your paper when they came to mind. You seriously thought today would be the day he’d be proud. He would agree. You felt good about it.
Only for him to burst out laughing when he read the lyrics. That wasn’t even the worst part. It’s bad enough that he laughed at you in front of the entire team. But what he said next is what made you lose your shit.
“Oh- shit. You’re serious?”
He stared at you for a moment, taking in your very irritated expression. And then he fucking laughed again.
“Fuck, Y/N. I thought this was a joke. God, I wish it was a joke because it would be hilarious if it was. It sounds like a fucking kids-bop song. You can’t be serious.”
And that’s when all hell broke loose.
You went off on him. In front of everyone. For three minutes straight you cursed him out, waived your hands around, and made it clear how much you cannot stand him and how rude he has been. How humiliated you feel. You’ve always been praised for your writing, so why the fuck doesn’t he like it? You are fucking pissed.
Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to cuss your boss out in front of everyone… but at this point, you don’t care. If he gets you fired by the company, oh-fucking-well.
Namjoon stares at you for a moment once you’re done. Your chest is heaving, your cheeks are red, and your brows are furrowed angrily. Clearly, he didn’t expect your outburst. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is tense, it even does the little tick thing that drives you crazy. Fuck him for being so hot. Fuck him for being so damn hot and such a dick.
He raises a brow at you, tongue in cheek, making that angry face that would be incredibly attractive if it weren’t directed at you. He lets out an angry huff of air before speaking.
“Studio. Now.”
He points at his studio as he says this as if you’re too stupid to understand his words. This pisses you off even more.
“You’re not my fucking boss.”
He scoffs at you, briefly smiling at your bold choice of words. You infuriate him just as much as he infuriates you.
“Actually, Y/N, I am. Studio. Now.”
You know that technically, he is your boss. But you refuse to listen to him after how humiliated he made you feel. In front of everyone, how dare he speak to you this way? Regardless of his weird hate for you. Besides, he can’t fire you. He may be able to request it, but you know that he won’t. From what you’ve heard, It took forever to fill this position. He was picky when it came to hiring someone… which makes this more confusing. You can’t figure out what his issue is with you, especially when he is the one who helped pick you for the job. Regardless, you know that he doesn’t have the patience to do it again. He’s full of shit.
You stand your ground. You won’t back down this time. You’re tired of the disrespect.
“No, Namjoon. Whatever you want to say, you can say it here. You’ve already embarrassed me, so go ahead, do it some more. I’m sure you get off on it.”
No longer smiling, his gaze is dark. He’s pissed. Now he’s a bit embarrassed… that’s what he gets.
“I won’t ask again. You can march your ass upstairs, or I can carry you. Your choice.”
You say nothing, surely he wouldn’t do that. He’s bluffing. Regardless of how harsh he has been towards you, you know that he wouldn’t cross that line. You hope that he doesn’t. The last thing that you want is for him to touch you. Not because he makes you uncomfortable, but because you already have enough dirty thoughts about him. You hate him, yet he turns you on in a way you’ve never felt. Lust driven by pure hatred, it’s a dangerous thing.
But of course, you were wrong, and he never ceases to surprise you. Never underestimate Kim Namjoon.
You stay silent, secretly hoping that he will just back down and continue the brainstorming session. But is Kim Namjoon the type of man to back down? No. He never has been.
He strides over to you quickly, taking big steps in your direction, causing you to miss your chance to run.
He swiftly grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder, his fingers digging into your thighs. You don’t even have time to react before he starts carrying you upstairs to the studio. He has no trouble doing so either, carrying you as if you weigh nothing.
You come to your senses and swat at his back while you yell profanities at him, demanding that he put you down, threatening to report him, and telling him that he’ll be fired by morning if he doesn’t stop.
But you know that he won’t. This company would never side with you, no matter what Namjoon did. They relied on him. They didn’t rely on you. You were replaceable, even if it would be difficult. Namjoon is not replaceable.
“Resume the session. If you finish before we’re done, you’re free to go. This may take a while. Don’t interrupt us.”
Hurried nods are sent in his direction, no one dares protest him or intervene. Cowards.
He kicks the door open to the studio, entering with ease, making sure not to hit your head on the doorframe as he walks in. You wish he would have hit your head, knocked you out, hell even thrown you over the staircase. Anything to avoid this humiliation he has cursed you with. You almost wish you would’ve just kept your damn mouth shut.
But the damage is done now. No point in backing down.
He throws you roughly on the couch sitting opposite his desk and then closes the door, locking it before facing you.
You glare at him, chest heaving, heart beating out of your chest. You’re just as pissed as he is. Yet, you still find yourself clenching your thighs together, irritated at the fact that he turns you on so much. You shouldn’t be horny right now… yet you are. The way he squeezed your thighs… fuck. Fuck him. God, fuck him to hell. You hate him.
“What the fuck was that?” You nearly growl at him.
He stands in front of you, arms crossed, looking down on you as if you’re nothing more than a pesky roach that he wants to squash.
“I told you, you could walk, or I could carry you. You made your choice, clearly.”
Fuck him.
“Fuck you, Namjoon. This is ridiculous.”
He laughs. He laughs at you.
Fuck him.
“You are ridiculous, Y/N. Why are you even here, if you can’t take criticism?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I can take criticism, constructive criticism, something that you are apparently incapable of giving. You’re so fucking mean to me and I’ve done NOTHING to you.”
“No, I-“
You cut him off, unable to control your mouth.
“And another thing, it’s only me that you speak to this way. I’ve yet to see you speak to anyone else the way that you do me. What is your issue with me, why do you hate me so much?”
“Maybe if you-“
You cut him off again, and his jaw does the tick thing. He’s getting angrier, but you do not give a fuck.
“No, this isn’t on me. I earned my spot here, I was hired for a reason, and everyone else respects me, why don’t you?”
“Because-“
Again.
Fuck him.
“There is no reason, you obviously have some sort of sick vendetta against me. You’re fucking insufferable!”
“Me? No, you-“
Again.
And he’s had enough.
“No, fuck you Namjoon, fuck you and this weird ass game you’re playing, you—“
He borderline growls before he pins you on the couch.
You don’t even have time to register what he’s doing, and if you did, you’d slap the shit out of him.
That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.
His lips crash into yours as he hovers over you, one knee perched in between your legs, while his other leg steadies him. He grabs your face with force, so rough that you swear he could break your jaw if he gripped you any harder. His other hand is on the back of the couch, steadying him the same and pinning you in place.
The kiss is no different. His lips assault yours, and he wastes no time in forcing his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with vigor. A kiss unlike any you’ve ever experienced before. You’ve only ever been kissed like this in your dreams, the same dreams that wake you up in the middle of the night leaving you touch-starved. It’s fucking aggressive and rough.
And of course, you kiss him back. You don’t want to. Yet you do. You don’t want to give in to him. But you do. You can’t help it. As soon as he made his move, you were under his control. He has that way about him, he’s easily able to affect people. You were a different story. You always defied him, disagreed with him, challenged him. Yet, this is the way that he tames you, even if only for a minute. Shit. You’re weaker than you thought.
He nips your bottom lip before pulling back, your jaw still in his grip. His nostrils are flared and his breathing is rigid, as if he’s just as shocked as you are at his actions.
And he is. He has no idea why he just kissed you. He has no idea what came over him. He just wanted you to shut the fuck up, and he acted on impulse. And now he has a raging hard-on, which pisses him off even more. He doesn’t want to want you, in the same way that you don’t want to want him. But you both do.
He whispers, searching your face, studying your reaction.
“Do you ever just shut the fuck up and listen?”
You clear your throat, still trying to come down from the rush of the kiss, adrenaline running through your veins.
“I-“
“Do you know how fucking irritated you make me?”
Suddenly, you have no fight left in you. You feel intimidated. Fuck him.
“Then why-“
“Am I gonna have to kiss you every time you need to shut the fuck up?”
You blink at him, unable to respond. You have no idea what to do, or how to react, and are becoming distracted by the puddle seeping between your thighs.
You haven’t had sex in over a year. You haven’t been able to grow interest in someone enough to give them that piece of yourself again. Your last situation-ship left you simply sick of men. Sex wasn’t appealing enough to go through that again. But, of course, as if the universe is punishing you, Namjoon awakens your sex drive.
You nervously bite your lip and clench your thighs, not even realizing what you’re doing. You’re on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger and lust. And this doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon.
He looks down at your thighs, and you immediately unclench them. Your cheeks betray you by reddening, thanks to the smirk that very clearly gives away that he knows exactly what you’re feeling right now.
He keeps his eyes on your thighs for a moment before looking up at you. He smirks, raising a brow, giving you a crooked smile that tells you he knows your dirty little secret. Your jaw is still firmly in his grasp.
“Is that it? You’re sexually frustrated? Is that why you’re being such a bitch?”
You try to wriggle from his grasp, embarrassed, angry, horny. You’re starting to wish he would just fire you. Anything to save you the embarrassment of his knowing glare.
“Fuck you.”
He chuckles, bringing his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath touch your lips.
“Yeah? Fuck me? If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”
You blink at him again and say nothing. You want to protest, tell him how gross he is, tell him how much you hate him, tell him that he’s the worst. Yet, his idea just makes you hornier. You’ve never had hate sex, and oh fuck, you’re sure that it would improve your mood, even some of the tension between you two.
But it pains you to even admit that. It’s humiliating. He has humiliated you enough.
He moves his hand to the back of your head, angling it upwards so that he has better access to your neck. He places his lips on your jaw, running his teeth up it, leading to the crook of your neck, keeping his lips on you as he speaks his next words.
He grabs your wrist with his other hand, leading it to his crotch, coaxing you to feel him. And he’s hard. So hard that you’re certain a button will break on his jeans. Fuck. He feels giant… You’re so fucked.
“Do you see what you do to me? Never in my life have I had anyone piss me off to the point of getting a fucking boner.”
You can’t help but whimper at his dirty words, but you make sure to bite your lip, preventing yourself from begging him to take you as you so desperately want to. You aren’t one to beg for anything. And you hate him even more for bringing you to that point.
“I’ve thought about fucking you so many times, Y/N. Fucking you to the point that you don’t even remember your own name, and my name is the only thing that you can scream. I just wanna fuck you until you shut the fuck up.”
“Please, just… do it then.”
Word vomit. You thought it but didn’t intend to say it. Yet, you said it. Of course, you did. You’re on the brink of cumming just from his filthy words.
He kisses your neck before speaking. And you can feel him smile as he does so.
Fuck him.
“Oh, Y/N, baby, hearing you beg makes it so tempting. I never thought you’d be the type, considering the amount of shit you talk.”
You croak out, suddenly feeling defensive, “I’m not. I don’t beg for shit.” You weakly push at his chest, even though you both know damn well you don’t want him to stop.
He laughs, pulling back to look at you, keeping his face close.
“Yet, here you are, begging for my cock like a desperate whore.”
You frown at him, feigning offense, when in reality his degradation is making you even more desperate. Why? You don’t know. You’ve never liked being degraded, in fact, nothing turns you off more than being called names… but hearing it come out of Namjoon's mouth? Fuck.
“I’m not a whore.” You whisper.
He tilts his head at you, amused.
“Fucking obviously, you’re acting like you’ve never been touched before. Are you this needy with other men?”
“There are no other men.”
He studies you for a moment, carefully calculating his next move. The way that he looks at you makes you feel insecure, as if he’s a judge on one of those cooking shows, trying to figure out whether he likes the taste of you or not. You have the urge to push him away and take off, his gaze is too goddamn intense.
He is too intense. Never met a man like him.
“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumble, looking away from him.
“Like what?” He asks, furrowing his brows. Amused.
“Like you think I’m the most vile thing on earth.”
He’s taken aback by your response, almost looking offended. Because that is the last thing he was thinking. If only you knew.
“Vile? Baby, I’m so hard for you right now that it hurts, do you know how hot you are when you’re pissed? Fucking annoying, but soooo hot.”
You squirm, your cheeks pinking again. You didn’t expect that. You expected him to laugh in your face and agree. He grunts as he takes in your facial expression. If only you knew what you truthfully do to him. He closes his eyes and scrunches his brows, taking a deep breath before he pulls away from you, leaving you considering getting on your damn knees and begging for him to touch you again.
He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes still closed as he speaks. As if he’s in pain from pulling away from you.
“Yeah, fuck, and you’re cute when you blush. This is fucked. I can’t stand you, yet you’re so fucking cute. What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?”
Fuck. He’s making this hard. You’re so overwhelmed. So pissed, so horny, you wanna push him away and cuss him out some more, but also you’ve never wanted another man more in your life than you do him right now.
Both of you stare at each other silently for a moment. His jaw keeps doing the tick thing, and you squeeze your thighs tighter, rubbing them together to relieve some pressure. His eyes flick to them, and you don’t even bother hiding it this time. As humiliating as it is, his cock is hard and bulging out of his jeans. So you can’t find yourself caring too much at the moment.
What really makes his resolve waver is the way you’re looking at him, which you don’t even realize. Normally you look at him with such disdain, as if he’s the vile one. But right now? Your eyes are wide and glossy, your lip stuck between your teeth. You’re looking at him almost sweetly. The desperation in your gaze is impossible to hide.
He loses it completely.
“Ah, fuck it.” He declares before grabbing you by your hair again as he sits on the couch. He tugs you roughly into his lap and starts devouring your mouth again.
You let out a little huff of air as he does this, not quite used to the rough handling. But god, it’s fucking divine. You feel as if all of the anger you’ve held for him comes rushing out in the form of kisses and touches. He feels the same.
His hand leaves your hair and he grips your hips, roughly grinding his hard cock onto your pussy. Dry humping like fucking teenagers as you make out aggressively.
Your hands come to rest on his face, framing it as they tremble slightly from the overwhelming emotions. You don’t hold back this time either, licking into his mouth wantonly, letting out little grunts and mewls that make his cock strain and twitch inside of his jeans.
His hands leave your hips to grip your ass, and he fucking groans into your mouth. He slaps it once, testing. When you let out a whine, he slaps it much harder this time, making your body jerk slightly.
He laughs into your mouth and says breathily, “Fuck, you really are a whore aren’t you?”
You bite his lip hard when he says this. You hate it. You love it. You grind down harder onto his clothed cock. He reaches back up to grip your hair and tugs your head back, pulling on it harshly and pulling you away from his mouth.
He grins when he hears you whine at the loss of his lips. “You wanna fucking bite me, huh? Uh-uh, fuck no you don’t.”
He pushes you off of his lap and lets go of your hair, you look up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and confusion. Honestly, you already look fucked out and he’s barely done anything. You’re just touch-starved, so every little kiss and touch is fucking you up. You’re craving relief from both your sexual frustration and the building irritation he’s caused you over the last month.
Before you even realize what he’s about to do, he grabs your hair again, his grip much firmer this time. It actually kind of hurts… yet you don’t stop him. He pushes your face roughly into his clothed cock, and grinds onto your face as he spreads his legs wider on the couch.
Oh fuck.
He grunts as he starts nearly smothering you. When he feels a bit of your drool gets onto his crotch, he yanks your head back, he laughs again, “Bet your big fucking mouth is great at sucking cock. Should we find out?”
You just glare at him. Don’t wanna give him the satisfaction even though every single thing he has done so far has made you borderline cream your pants.
He clicks his tongue, “No? Don’t have anything to say now? Isn’t that funny…”
Fuck him.
He keeps his grip tight on your hair as he uses his other hand to fumble with his zipper and button. Once it’s undone, he whips his cock out. It hits the fabric of his rumpled shirt and is already dripping precum.
Holy. Fuck. His cock is huge. A good nine inches.
He yanks your head forward again, literally smearing your face all over it, humping your face again. His head falls back and he grunts at the feeling. Your skin is just so soft, and the way your makeup is already becoming fucked up is making him go crazy. He’s always loved sloppy sex. And you are fucking gorgeous like this, he thinks.
He grabs his cock with his free hand as he tilts your head back, starts slapping your mouth with it, your cheeks too. The precum starts stringing from your cheek to the tip of his cock, and you can see his pupils dilate even bigger, he almost looks like he’s about to lose control.
He says uncharacteristically softly, “If you want me to stop, pinch my thigh real hard, yeah?”
If you had even a single moment of free thought, you would’ve probably been thankful that he gave you an out. You know despite him being a huge piece of work, he’s not a bad guy. So the fact he’s setting boundaries in your favor, even in the heat of the moment, is comforting. He cares about your safety and comfort. It’s the bare minimum of course, but most men lack even that. It’s why you stopped having casual sex to begin with.
But you don’t have a moment to think because pushes your lips down onto his cock abruptly, your mouth opens on instinct and he shoves himself inside. Doesn’t even ease into it, he just straight up plows his cock inside of your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pelvis.
You cough, and gag, already drooling all over him. Fuck it’s hot. You’ve never been face fucked like this before, but you’re starting to think maybe you’ve been missing out on good sex if this is how good rough sex feels.
You can’t even imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you if it feels this good in your mouth.
When he sees tears start to form, he pulls your hair back, strings of spit and precum connecting from your mouth and onto the tip of his cock. Fuck, it felt so good feeling your throat constrict around his cock. His resolve is wavering heavily. But he’s trying to remain patient. He smirks at you, stroking his spit-covered cock lazily directly onto your lips, causing beads of precum to escape his tip and cover your lips like lipgloss.
“Fuck, look at you. And you haven’t said a damn word. So pretty when you shut up.”
Your cheeks flush and you say petulantly, “Fuck you.” Because even now you don’t wanna give him the satisfaction.
That’s short-lived though because he starts fucking your mouth again. He shoves his cock inside and starts thrusting into your mouth as if it’s a goddamn sex toy. He hits the back of your throat with every thrust, causing you to gag and cough, your hands squeezing his thighs hard but not pinching.
You can take it.
He grunts out, “Fuck… I swear to god I’ll fuck your pretty little mouth every goddamn time you mouth off from now on Y/N, since nothing else has worked so far.”
Each word punctuated by a harsh thrust, he grunts our, “Just shut. the. fuck. up. Fuuuck.”
He keeps fucking up into your mouth, not easing up even for a second. Your eyes roll back in your head, and all you can do is take it. His thrusts only become sloppier and wetter. His head is thrown back and his abdomen starts clenching hard. But he knows you need to breathe. As much as he wishes he could just cum down your throat; he has other plans…
He pulls your head back again, he’s already feeling a bit too close to cumming. He doesn’t wanna cum too fast, he’s certain it would give you more to talk shit about.
He gazes down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth parted slightly and his breaths coming in fast. You look utterly fucked. Your makeup is ruined completely now, your eyes are red and teary, and your pretty pink lips are swollen. His stomach flutters, because he thinks you have never looked prettier.
He’s always thought you were so pretty. It’s one of the reasons he can’t stand you. He isn’t supposed to want you. You’re his coworker, technically his subordinate.
But none of that matters now, does it?
He doesn’t look much better, his shirt is covered in wet spit and his boxers are ruined too. He should’ve taken his clothes off… but luckily, he thinks it’s so much hotter this way.
His cock twitches against his belly, and he strokes your cheek with his free hand. He murmurs, “You good?”
You nod stupidly at him even as drool dribbles down your chin and your mascara runs onto your cheeks. There’s nothing to say really. You’ve never enjoyed having a dick down your throat so much. And he has effectively shut you up.
He nods and guides your head up, kisses you deeply. His eyes roll back as he tastes his precum on your tongue. So fucking good, he thinks.
He guides your pliant body to lay down on the couch, and then he settles in between your legs, his hands stroking up and down your thighs as he looks you over. God, there is so much he wants to do to you. He wants to use you but also wants to make you come undone as many times as possible.
Maybe then you’ll be more tolerable. Maybe this is what you both need, he rationalizes.
But he’s getting impatient. His cock is standing tall as he looks down at you, visibly pulsating, jerking upward now and then. And fuck, it’s making you impatient too. So much so that you whine at him, “Fuck, stop looking and just do something.”
His jaw ticks. He’s getting irritated. That’s what you think, anyway. But in reality, he’s preening on the fact you’re just as impatient as he is. It gives him an excuse to cut the foreplay and fuck you stupid.
You want him to do something? Oh, he will.
He lets out an almost mocking laugh, “Yeah? Want me to do something about it? You sure?”
You groan and roll your eyes at him, scooting your ass closer to his pelvis on the couch, his cock dripping so much precum, you have no idea how he’s not losing his mind right now. You certainly are. In fact, he’s starting to piss you off again.
Right as you’re about to talk shit, he can immediately tell. He grabs the front of your button-up and he rips it open. Doesn’t unbutton it like a normal person, but fucking rips it open, sending buttons flying on the floor of the studio. You let out a grunt, and blink at him in surprise with your mouth open.
You liked that shirt. Fuck him.
“Fucking seriously? You’re ruining my clothes now?”
Your patience is almost nonexistent at this point. You have drool and precum drying on your chin, you’re so horny it hurts, and he just ripped your shirt open like a wild fucking animal.
But him? It’s like he’s not even paying attention. His eyes are averted downward, tongue flicking over his lips. He looks almost stupid like this. What the fuck?
You look down to see what he’s gawking at, and… Oh. Oh. Kinda slipped your mind that you aren’t wearing a bra today. You were running late this morning and forgot to throw one on. Oops.
Namjoon doesn’t even look at your face at this point. His eyes are glued to your tits. He feels kind of ridiculous, getting this worked up over tits. He’s seen tits many times, it’s nothing new. But something about yours has him salivating, has his cock jerking upward.
He reaches down and starts lightly slapping the sides of your tits, watching them jiggle with a gaze full of hunger, he rasps out, “Not the only thing I’m gonna be ruining.”
One hand remains playing with your tits like they’re fucking stress balls, and Namjoon would argue that they absolutely are. The other hand reaches down and lifts your skirt, causing it to pool around your waist. He looks down a bit further, begrudgingly tearing his eyes away from your perfect tits, his other hand pushing your ruined panties to the side. He groans, nearly growls when he notices how wet you are. Fuck. He’s so close to losing control.
He dips a single finger into your sopping heat, just barely. Moves the creamy juices around before pushing his finger fully inside, squeezing your tit hard in his other hand. Your hips buck up involuntarily and your head falls back against the couch. You fucking hate yourself for the desperate noise that claws out of your throat.
Namjoon is no better, the moment he feels how wet you truly are, he lets a sound that sounds no better than the one you just let out. His breathing picks up, his heart starts beating faster, and his cock is so hard at this point that it’s actually painful. God, you are just so tight. Your pussy is clenching around his finger as if it’s trying to swallow him whole.
“N-Namjoon— please. Fuck. Please.” You beg again, don’t even care how pathetic you sound. A single fucking finger isn’t enough for how badly you want him right now. Want to be filled up and fucked hard. He’s barely moving it too. Just lightly grazing your walls, and it’s so frustrating. You just want to cum. Get it all out.
Namjoons resolve finally breaks when he sees a trickle of creamy white drip out of your pussy and onto the couch, he can’t take it anymore. He genuinely wanted to tease you, make a fucking mess of you. Make you beg and cry for him because of how much you piss him off. But not even he is strong enough to stall, he needs you. Now.
One last slap to the tit, he pulls his hand away and hastily reaches over for his wallet on the side table next to the couch. He pulls a condom out, brings the wrapper up to his mouth, and tears it open. And fuck, that’s so sexy. Your pussy clenches his finger again at the sight, and then he jerks it out of your pussy with a grunt.
You whine at him, almost feeling offended. But Namjoon knows damn well he’s going a little crazy because he just got jealous. Jealous of his own fucking finger. Should be his cock, not his finger. What the fuck are you doing to him?
He doesn’t warn you before he stuffs the same finger, accompanied by another finger, into your mouth. Nearly making you choke just like you did on his cock. Then he tosses the wrapped condom onto your bare chest, “Put it on me. Quick.”
You don’t even hesitate, you grab the condom with shakey hands and fumble it out of the package, all while sucking his fingers clean of your own juices. It only turns you on more, tasting yourself on his skin.
You reach for his cock, grab it with one shaky hand and his hips buck into it a bit. He lets out a little hiss through his teeth because of how sensitive it is, neglected for too long. That’s how it feels, anyway.
You roll the condom onto his cock snuggly and then look up at him expectantly with a desperate but wrecked look. Give him the best ‘fuck me’ eyes you can muster up. He keeps his fingers in your mouth. Doesn’t even move. Again, drawing it out. Attempting to, anyway.
You whine against his fingers, and would probably be begging him if you could talk. But Namjoon can’t take it anymore, lucky for you. He moves his hips forward and uses his free hand to position his cock at your entrance.
The moment the tip is sucked into your tight hole, he snaps. Literally, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. You cry out even with your mouth around his fingers, sounding muffled and wet. Your back arched obscenely because fuck you didn’t expect him to just go in like that.
You’re not complaining though, fuck no.
His head falls back like yours, and he stays like that for a moment, his teeth grit and eyes clenched shut. He removes his fingers from your mouth and grabs your face with one hand, smooshing your cheeks, the other hand coming back up to your tit and squeezing it harshly, as if he just can’t help himself. Squeezing so hard that it kinda hurts. But fuck, it feels so good. You’re starting to realize maybe you have a thing for shit like this.
Doesn’t help when you feel his cock twitching inside of you. It’s just enough stimulation to make your pussy start throbbing around him.
It’s pathetic how close you already are. But god, it feels like he edged you for hours. Even though he barely did anything. You guess you just kinda forgot what actual dick felt like compared to your fingers or a toy.
He starts moving his hips slowly, trying to be patient while your pussy adjusts to his size. But your patience left the moment he entered you.
“Fuck. Go faster, please.”
Your voice sounds high-pitched and a bit loud which you don’t even realize. You can’t control it. He clicks his tongue at this, gives your face a little shake as he says, “Thought I told you to shut the fuck up? Unless you want all of your coworkers to know you’re letting your boss fuck the shit out of you like a whore? That what you want?”
He pulls back out and then slams in again. You let out another cry, body jolting at the force. And he starts just pounding into you.
You asked for this.
How the fuck are you supposed to be quiet when he goes from 0 to 100 like that? Holy fuck.
“Oh, so you do? You want them all to know I’m making you my slut after humiliating you for your shitty writing? C’mon, speak up. Can’t hear you. Use your fucking words.”
All while snapping his hips harshly into yours, out one moment, deep inside the next. You can barely take it. You swear you can feel him in your fucking stomach. Hardly even register his degrading words because you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even control the loud noises coming out of your mouth, although you desperately try.
Tears prickle your eyes, not because it hurts but because you’re overwhelmed. He’s so hard to figure out. Acting like he’s gonna tease you one moment, and then fucking you like he’s trying to split you in half the next.
He lets out a grunt at your lack of response and ends up squishing your cheeks harder, forcing your mouth open. He leans down slightly and fucking spits in your mouth and then stuffs his fingers back in your mouth, “Actually, just shut the fuck up. Keep your mouth busy and shut the fuck— ah, fuck— the fuck up.”
Fucking disgusting. Fucking hot.
The way his words falter and he loses train of thought for a second makes your pussy clench deliciously around him. Because it’s confirmation that he is just as affected as you are. Just as fucked up right now.
You both look a mess. Your shirt is torn open, your skirt all crooked and pushed up to your waist, and your panties aren’t even fully off. His shirt is still damp with spit, his pants only halfway pulled down and now there’s a creamy white stain on the front of them from your juices dripping down his dick.
It’s heaven, honestly. Or maybe hell. You aren’t sure. But it feels so fucking good.
His hips piston into your cunt hard and fast, and you do your best to focus on sucking his fingers, but the pressure is building fast. You can feel your pussy start to flutter, your clit throbbing, begging to be paid attention to. He can feel it too, it’s making him go crazy because of how responsive you are.
He slams home one more time before staying there, swiveling his hips in a circle so that his pelvis brushes against your clit each time, giving it the minimal amount of attention that has you nearly seeing stars, almost there, but not quite.
“Need more?” He pants out.
You nod your head quickly, his fingers covered in your saliva at this point. Dripping in the essence of you just like his cock. He nods back, removes his other hand from your hip, and settles it at the bottom of your belly, pushing down and placing his thumb over your clit. He starts flicking it fast and starts fucking into you again, picking up the pace so that the room fills with wet squelching noises and skin slapping.
The way he’s pushing onto your tummy while rubbing your clit, Jesus fuck… it’s intense. Makes it feel like he is inside of your stomach. So fucking deep.
Yup. That does it. The stagnant pressure starts building rapidly, he can feel it too. Your pussy starts tightening and fluttering beautifully around his girth. You’re making the prettiest noises, still quiet thanks to his fingers stuffed in your mouth but he can hear you the perfect amount.
God, it’s so perfect, he thinks.
You, you’re not thinking at all. He really is fucking you stupid. Your eyes are continuously rolling back and your hips buck into his thrusts desperately, quickly approaching your climax.
He flicks your clit back and forth, fast but precisely, “C’mon baby, give it to me. Fucking cum all over me. Make a mess. Ungh— god you’re such a fucking slut.”
And that sends you. Out of everything, something about Namjoon calling you a slut just fucking does it for you. You let out a muffled moan, that would be a scream most likely if his fingers weren’t sheathed into your mouth. Your legs tremble and your body shudders through the force of your orgasm.
Your pussy throbs violently, walls rippling around his cock as you finally see those stars. It feels fucking amazing, makes tears fall down your cheek. You can barely breathe because of the force of how fucking good it feels to cum on his cock.
This is his end too. He simply can’t hold back when he feels the vice grip of your pussy desperately trying to keep his cock in place, the rippling of your walls nearly feels like vibrations. He lets out another groan, but it almost comes out like a whine. Very subtly. His face is scrunched up and his mouth open as his hips stutter, his cock spilling and filling up the condom.
It goes on and on. Neither of you thinking about how much you hate each other, only thinking about how good it feels to be together like this. He swears he’s never had sex better than this. You feel the same.
The reality of it all is hate sex is unmatched. Especially when tensions build for so long and you both act as if you can’t stand each other… who knew a fuck could’ve helped with that?
At the last twitch of his cock, when your pussy becomes overstimulated and sore, he collapses on top of you. Both of you panting harshly, catching your breaths as your hearts beat in unison.
He removes his spit-covered fingers from your mouth, and he places lazy little kisses on your skin. He isn’t even sure where, too fucked out to pay attention, just anywhere he can reach while he rests on top of you. It’s an oddly tender gesture. A little sweet, even.
It’s silent for a few minutes. And you both start to realize what you’ve done. You just fucked your technical boss… he just fucked one of his co-writers.
Definitely shouldn’t have happened.
He can’t find himself regretting it though. He feels so light, that he could almost smile. As much of an excuse as it was at first, it genuinely helped with the tension. He’s not quite as irritated with you. Does he like you now? Fuck no.
But the more post-nut clarity comes to fruition… the more he thinks he can tolerate you. Maybe even work with you, compromise with you.
You on the other hand… you don’t know how to feel. You don’t regret it, because fuck, it did help with the tension. You feel lighter too. Not as sensitive. Not as hateful.
Maybe it was for the best. It’s not like anyone has to know, anyway. It’s like couples counseling sort of… except you’re definitely not a couple, and you both still cannot stand each other.
But you can tolerate each other now that most of the tension is gone for the time being.
“You good?”
He tears you away from your thoughts, and you look up at him with bleary eyes. It makes you feel sort of warm and fuzzy inside knowing despite his dislike for you, he’s still checking to make sure he didn’t cross any lines.
Well, he crossed several lines. But, you aren’t complaining. You’re glad he did. Glad he reduced you to this.
“I’m fucking great.”
That earns you a little chuckle. He sighs a breath of relief, was worried he went a bit too hard or did too much, especially since you didn’t set any boundaries beforehand. But you took what he gave you and you took it like a fucking champ, he thinks.
He reluctantly gets off of you because now that you’re both a bit more clear-headed, the couch feels a little too small, and he doesn’t wanna crush you.
His softening cock is still inside of you, so he braces a hand on the couch and slowly pulls out, both of you hissing at the feeling. He watches in awe as your juices flow freely out of you. God, what a pretty pussy, he thinks.
He dips a finger back into your heat, causing you to let out a little noise of surprise. But he removes it quickly, brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean.
“Mmm. Yummy.” He says, wiggling his brows.
Ugh.
He pats your thigh before getting off of the couch, taking the condom off, and tying it up to chuck it in the trash. He stuffs his soft and sensitive cock back into his underwear and pulls up his pants, feeling utterly satiated now. Bubbly and light, even though he won’t show it. He makes his way to the little fridge in his studio and he grabs two bottles of water, tosses you one which you barely catch.
You gulp down the water gratefully, parched considering he stole most of your fucking spit. Asshole.
He begins walking into the bathroom attached to his studio as he says, “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up. Then we can look at those lyrics again and see if it still sounds like kids bop now that I’ve fucked you stupid.”
At your immediate glare, he lets out a laugh, and shrugs innocently, “What? Pussy is magic, can change a man’s mind about a lot of things. Now hurry up, you’re a fucking mess.”
And with that, he’s stepping into the bathroom.
Yeah. Fuck him. Still insufferable.
But god, you really do hope to fuck him again.
713 notes · View notes
itoshi-s · 1 year
Note
Bllk boys ranking though NNN also i lost bc of ur fics
PLSSSS nonnie im so sorry i made u lose !!! 😭 m happy u enjoyed it so much tho ajfhalkf now let me brainrot over how needy the bllk boys would be during the month of november !
ʜᴏᴡ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ɴɴɴ !
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ft: rin, sae, bachira, isagi, ryusei, reo, nagi, aiku, chigiri, kunigami, kaiser, & barou !
cw: nsfw (minors -17 dni!), characters are 18+, fem reader, mentions of rough sex, the boys being switchy, edging, mutual masturbation, sex toys, cannabis !
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12. rin - doesn't participate ! ─── yep :( as a rinnie stan myself i know it's disappointing LMAO but he just knows it's unhealthy 😭 and he takes care of himself and his body so much, there's no way. cannot be bothered to take part in such challenges anyway,, they were childish to him at 16 yet alone when he's older sfkfal also is so busy, he'd be a fool to let go of any chance to touch you !!
11. bachira - a day ! ─── no. 1 needy baby ! isn't completely against the idea, actually even tells you he might try it out once you mention it - but he truly forgets all about it as soon as he comes come several hours later .. and sees you looking soooo good. pounces on you within seconds <3 also has an impressive refractory period & stamina too ! can keep going for hours on end and stuff u so full.... it just doesn't end ! he cums for the first time so quick and loses the challenge embarrassingly early but he makes it up to you so well <3
more under the cut !
10. barou - three days ! ─── agrees to your pretty pleading eyes - you want the both of you to try it out so that once the month ends, all hell can break loose ! you know shoei so well, how rough he is on the daily - the thought of him going even further, all desperate and frustrated, makes you giddier than ever. it's of course such a dumb idea to him, but since you're asking him so nicely, he might as well agree..... yeah it only lasts the few days bc he's away on a game and just isn't there to see you and touch you :/ as soon as he's through the front door you can nearly scent the pheromones on him. fucks u into the mattress so hard you're scared of how rough he could be after a whole month !
9. nagi - five days ! ─── he's all about the slow and lazy loving and rarely ever initiates something himself ((you're more than happy to take control though bc just think...... blowing him under the desk while he's gaming???? yeah think bout it)) so you're not at all surprised when he mumbles something about taking part in a challenge the guys talked abt in the group chat . nagi can be a menace with how lazy he is sometimes so you have your toys in handy anyway akfjhsa BUT you honestly would've thought he could last longer ! he might not show his desperation all that often or openly but he definitely is needy <3 ruts into you in your sleep not even a week in. as you wake him and try to scold him playfully , he just pulls you closer with a groan . "'s a pain already," he huffs, "help me out?"
8. isagi - a week and a half ! ─── takes it as a joke at first but figures that it might be fun, actually, and tries it out in the end . he's got very good self control too so is curious how well it'll work when it comes to you and his needs !! it's going pretty smoothly considering how tight his practice schedule is before his next match, BUT it all goes down the drain after said game .. comes back absolutely pumped and high on the goals he scored , on the way he absolutely devoured the other team and controlled the whole field - there's no other way to unwind than to take it out on u <3 it's the only way he knows ! is so loud once he finally takes u & makes u praise him so much ! loves to hear he's your best boy n how good he is to u <3 praise kink yoichi goes brr (yes i am still thinking about the thirst moshi ((@/saetoshis)) did !! its canon i confirm)
7. kunigami - two weeks ! ─── he wasn't rly going to take part when he first read about it in the gc but once he mentions it to you and it turns out you're actually excited abt the thought .. he just might take it up akfhf doesn't actually find it all that difficult and only ever realizes that actually you might be the one taking the hit when you openly start begging for him :( comes home to find u on the bed, teary eyed and overstimulated bc it's just been so long , and masturbation isn't all that exciting anymore ever since u have him . please ren, just drop it already. finds the look on ur face so amusing , you're so miffed as if it wasn't your idea in the first place ! quickly wipes the frown off your pretty features and replaces it with crossed eyes and lolled out tongue tho <3
6. reo - two and a half weeks ! ─── you make him do it <3 and the thought is far too thrilling for him to refuse. also...... he's a switch leaning sub anyway so :( does he even have any word in it? no not really. one look from u is all it takes to make him melt ! it drives you insane to see how he just gives a slight whine or a sigh in the mornings, hard cock straining against his boxers but he's such a good boy - of course he listens and doesn't touch himself <3 just gets up and goes on with his day , knowing better. has this haze over his mind and it shows by his glossy eyes or warm hands that start to roam around your body more frequently . you only ever let him drop it when he's nearly in tears ,, it just hurts !!!!! he cannot keep focus on practice or workouts anymore :( the ache in his tummy and boxers too overwhelming. wraps his arms around you from behind as you cook dinner for u two - sturdy chest pressing all against you, hands grabbing at your waist and there's a shaky breath by your ear. please, please i can't take this anymore. you're not that cruel, and end up praising him for being such a good boy for u for the past weeks <3
4. sae - three weeks ! ─── gets annoyed with the way you keep teasing him, even when he comes home from the longest day of practice ever, and thinks that it might actually be the perfect time to teach you a lesson ! tbh sae strikes me as a dom BUT with solid switch tendencies so !! he actually starts to regret his decision like a week and a half in lol. doesn't let it show at all though and keeps his cool,, knowing that it's exactly how to rile you up <3 giving you such humdrum looks it makes you week in the knees. it's until he sees you come out of the shower, a pretty little vibe in hand, cheeks flushed and eyes lidded when he realizes he might not have the upper hand anymore :( knows that he can keep control of his needs if he has to, but it just gets so fucking annoying, even more so when he knows he's the one that came up with it in the first place. is beyond thankful when u unexpectedly finally BEG HIM to just feel him,, and takes you right here in the moment. puts u in a mating press and fucks you silly only to flip you over and make you ride him as the prettiest little sound start to slip out. ngh- yeah, make m'cum, pretty girl. can't think straight no more. ( > ///////////// < ) cums embarrassingly fast like this as well ...... like just a minute or two of you riding him and grabbing at his shoulders or biceps and he's whining so loud. pretty baby is so flustered tho !!!
4. chigiri - three weeks ! ─── PLEASE he's such a tease ! takes up on the challenge when he hears the boys mention it and is kind enough to give you a heads up . is definitelyyyy one of the biggest menaces of them all tho with the way he riles u up so much. knows that the way he brings his hair up into a loose ponytail instantly makes u think of how he does it whenever he's about to eat you out - so he does it right in front of ur eyes, hairtie in his teeth and giving you a sly look ! makes plans with you so that you just have to go to practice with him first,, otherwise you won't make it on time - because he knows how much it turns you on to see him in the zone <3 thinks that he has it all in control until you crawl between his spread legs and give him the prettiest begging eyes, hands already palming at the sturdy muscle of his thighs, threatening to move higher - right where he now feels the dull ache and strain against his shorts. this is unfair, hyo. haven't i been good to you? isn't all that much of a hard dom,, but definitely makes you feel it how it wasn't worth spurring him on :((
3. aiku - three and a half weeks ! ─── same thing that happened with barou,, but this man has much better self control ! it gets him INSANELY hard and fucking insane to think of how you'll be dripping by the very end of this month , pleading him to finally fill you up. doesn't let you touch yourself either, though </3 so that's what it makes it even more fucked up ! he's the one to convince you to it - has to give a little push bc you're just so needy, the thought alone is enough to make your head spin - but knows that you're actually a lil excited yourself when he sees the glint in your eyes ! doesn't try to tease you all that much but pleaseeeeee have u seen this man .. he doesn't even need to try and he gets you SOAKING ! might just bust a nut himself everytime he thinks of how good it'll feel to finally have you once the month's finished. all of his plans go to waste when you end up watching a movie and smoking a blunt together tho ...... it's ridiculous how you're on top of him within SECONDS after the few first hits kjafhaskfh the weed makes you hazy too you end up going for hourssss on end :( in the morning you're smacking him in the head for even giving u the idea to smoke when you both know how horny u two get afterwards ,, maybe it was his unconscious horny self making the decision tho afhakhsaf
1. ryusei - the whole month ! ─── PLSSSS he's so deranged afafalasfa he LOVES edging the both of u. makes sure u know what's about to come days before november even starts lol and makes good use of it,, you don't even have the energy to think about fucking for the first few days of nov when he's railed u so good minutes before midnight hit 😭 is such a tease during the whole month ! would straight up edge you and bring you right up to your high, only to pull away at the very last second and leave you crying so pretty :( is mean about it, but knows it'll be worth it in the end ! looooves mutual masturbation - thinks that he just might fail when he sees u spread out in front of him, panting and moaning so sweetly, BUT ofc he doesn't let neither of you come . scares you with the way he grabs you so rough and fucks you on the literal floor as soon as the date changes to december :0 pls he's so funny i can see him checking the clock both before it starts & ends gives you the absolute best fuck you've ever had your whole life ,, you need to call in sick the next day bc your cervix is so bruised and gives you cramps :(
1. kaiser - the whole month ! ─── does it just to prove a point. you're a brat to him anyway,, so he's sure you can take matters into your own hands for just a month! (it's not like he absolutely adores the iittle attitude of yours and is the one that always spurs you on even further! definitely not ! </3) considering the world cup is coming soon, he's away most of the days anyways, but usually he'd take care of you as soon as he comes back .. this time he only gives you a good night kiss and pulls you close :( no action whatsoever ! as if you didn't exist to him in any sexual form. also doesn't let you touch him even once either - he despises any distractions after all! it makes you want to cry with desperation cause your own touch just isn't enough - it's a whole other experience to have him manhandling u around and making u do the work to please him ! he takes you to the world cup with him as well,, since he doesn't want u to be lonely ((and actually wants u there with him </3)) so you're extremely fucked . seeing him absolutely trashed and exhausted after a match ?? watching from the first row stands as he absolutely demolishes the field ?? he couldn't get any hotter than he is during the games and u know it :( you end up nearly crying when he finally allows you to touch him , thank him thru the tears and he makes you come in like mere minutes :( won't ever admit that this is the hardest he's ever been lmaoo
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© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.
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bunnyshideawayy · 18 days
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a rumored bastard and a proven, disinherited, legally illegitimate recognized bastard are not the same.
Rhaenyra’s sons are rumored bastards, i know the show has a lot of team green stans feeling bold but just as in the books, they are never legally considered bastards in the show either. they are speculated to be via their physical features and Laenor’s apparent sexuality, but since Laenor and the KING (btw Westeros is a absolute monarchy, meaning the king IS law) both claim all three boys as legitimate heirs, unless someone demands a medieval dna test, those kids are legally Laenor’s true sons.
this is apparently a very hard concept to understand for some, hell even Alicent in the show says something like “we can all tell” which fair point, but that is not proof enough. looks, accusations, and rumor are not the same as actual proof of adultery or bastardy.
someone i was having a “discussion” with used Joffrey as an example to point out a flaw in my logic, but ultimately proved my point. Joffrey was a rumored bastard. Ned himself had no more proof than Alicent does, just hair color and a hunch, so Joffrey was never legally disinherited from the line of succession. I hate to defend either of these men but King Robert never publicly disowned him and called him bastard, which is why Joffrey ascended to the Iron Throne. now the rumors did hurt, and caused huge political issues leading to the War of 5 Kings, which is exactly why Alicent and Team Green is so insistent that Rhaenyra’s children are illegitimate, they know they cannot legally or physically prove her children are bastards, especially when Laenor and the King are claiming them are true born, but they can spread the rumor and call into question Rhaenyra’s honesty and morality. think episode 8 when team green takes their chance with Vaemond to attempt a coup of sorts for the Driftmark Throne, why would the succession of Driftmark need to be settled if Rhaenyra’s sons are true born? why would Alicent / Otto need to make this decision in place of the sick king and mia lord of tides who both had already been stating Luke would inherit for years. it’s all apart of the scheme to tarnish Rhaenyra’s reputation as Vaemond has no other proof either, and promptly loses his head (both metaphorically and literally) by calling the recognized heir to the throne a whore and her children bastards with no proof in front of the whole court.
it is a political scheme on both sides, Alicent cannot prove anything, and Rhaenyra cannot disprove the rumors no matter how many times they are claimed as true born sons. Rhaenyra has to live in the comfort the law gives her, as legally her sons are seen as legitimate, and thus legally they are protected. and from an unbiased pov with both in universe and historical references, those kids might be bastards in actually but not legally.
Rhaenyra goes through hell to keep her children legally protected, not only for their sake but for hers because should the truth come out both her and Laenor would be seriously punished, i wouldn’t go as far as executed but that would depend on if Viserys was old and bed ridden or dead. which is why im making this incredibly long post repeating myself in every point. you can argue all day about Rhaenyra’s children and their parentage but i am making this to make it clear that her children are not *legally* bastards by Westeros law. in order for Jace, Luke, and Joffrey to be illegitimate bastards Laenor, Rhaenyra, Harwin, and/or Viserys would have to publicly acknowledge them as such and disinherit them. no, Laenor and Viserys dying do not magically make Rhaenyra’s children legal bastards either. they would, again, need to be claimed and proven as such and disinherited.
and at the end of it all, true or not true, the rumors made a lasting impact on the story. so much so this fandom is still debating this topic, and frankly i am dreading the season 2 release when all the bad takes and bad faith arguments start up again.
anyway other famous rumored bastards are in Targ history are:
Maegor
Daeron II
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dreamwritesimagines · 7 months
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Garden of Secrets [40] - Laurel
A.N: The last 3 chapters! ❤️Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤️ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think❤️
Summary: An engagement ball can be followed by an unexpected surprise.
Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, mentions of threats.
Word Count: 3000
Series Masterlist
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Technically you knew planning an engagement ball was bound to be stressful, of course you did.
But from the way Lottie was treating it, you were beginning to think it was a life-and-death situation.
“Lottie you do realize you didn’t have to come here to make sure me and Ben are coming to the engagement ball?” you asked “Don’t get me wrong, I’m always glad to see you but there is no way we’d miss it. No matter how much Benedict whines about you and Anthony getting married, he’s actually happy for you.”
“Oh I know!” she said as she sat beside you on the bench. You were in the garden, enjoying your book in the gazebo after having spent hours in the greenhouse while Benedict was busy with his painting in his studio. “I cannot stay long because I must go to the Bridgerton House but before that, I figured I could come here and give you this.”
She put the wrapped rectangular box that she was holding into your lap and you tilted your head.
“What is this?”
“This is sort of a thank you for accepting to be my maid of honor,” she said, making you smile.
“Lottie, you really shouldn’t have…” you said as you unwrapped the box and held your breath when you saw the chocolates. “I take it back, I’m glad you did.”
She let out a laugh as you hugged her and pulled back to look at her better.
“It’s my privilege to be your maid of honor,” you said as you popped a chocolate into your mouth and offered her, but she shook her head.
“I feel as if I’m in the most pleasant dream,” she whispered like she was giving you a secret. “I never thought Tony would love me back and the funny part is—”
“He never thought you’d love him back?”
“Yes!” she said. “Can you believe it?”
“I absolutely can,” you said with a laugh, then reached out to hold her hand. “I’m really happy for you.”
“Thank you!”
You grabbed another piece of chocolate, then chewed on it.
“So are you very excited for the engagement ball?”
“Very tense, more likely,” she said. “I hope everyone will like it.”
“Of course they will,” you assured her. “And you’re not doing it for them, you’re doing it for you.”
“That is something I must repeat to myself a lot, yes,” she said with a sigh. “I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy about the wedding and such but I’m also happy for the time I’ll get to be alone with Tony after all this.”
“I know how that feels,” you said, smiling slightly and she looked around.
“Benny is in his studio?”
“Mm hm, painting.”
“I must go but you must give him my regards.”
“You don’t want to say hello to him?”
“I’m not going to interrupt him while he’s painting, he might lose focus,” she said and stood up, then kissed you on the cheek. “I will see both of you tonight?”
“Cross my heart,” you said and hugged her. “Tell the family I said hello!”
“Will do!” she said and walked away, and you looked back at the house before making your way there. You hummed a song to yourself, still carrying the box of chocolates, and climbed the stairs, then walked down the hallway to approach the closed door of the studio.
You only hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door, then stepped back.
“Yes?” Benedict’s voice carried outside and you smiled slightly.
“You’ve been awfully quiet, is there something terrible going on there?”
The footsteps came closer, then the door opened halfway, letting you see him and you repressed a grin. He looked handsome as always but there were traces of paint all over his hands and his white shirt, and his hair was tousled as if he had been running his hands through it the way he always would when he was stressed. You tilted your head.
“Did you lose a fight with the canvas or something?”
“I’m winning actually,” he said as he gave you an excited grin and you leaned sideways to the doorframe, then held up the box.
“Do you want a chocolate?”
“God yes,” he said and grabbed one to pop it into his mouth. “Where did this come from?”
“Lottie dropped by, she didn’t want to interrupt you while you were painting,” you said. “She brought me chocolates to thank me for accepting to be her maid of honor.”
Benedict blinked a couple of times. “Wait, we get treats for that?”
“I got treats for that,” you corrected him. “You’re the best man, what did Anthony give you?”
“…A speech.”
You clicked your tongue. “Ah well, that sounds like the consequences of your choices.”
“He’s my brother, I honestly did not have a choice in that,” he said, eyeing the chocolates. “How come you get chocolates and I get a speech?”
“Probably because I’m nicer than you,” you said with a grin. “There’s no other explanation here.”
“Mm hm, I’m sure.”
“So the painting?” you asked, standing on your tiptoes to sneak a look inside but he tut-tutted, blocking your view.
“Not yet.”
“What’s it about?”
“You’ll see,” he said. “Y/N, I can’t explain, I…ever since that night, it’s like I’m more inspired than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”
You could feel the warmth spreading inside your chest and you shifted your weight, letting a smile pull at your lips.
“And yet I cannot see it?” you asked, nodding in the direction of the room and he shook his head.
“Not yet, but you will be the first person to see it once it’s finished.”
You hummed, pretending to be in deep thought. “Do you promise?”
He smiled softly, then leaned in to brush his lips against yours, making you heave a happy sigh.
“On my honor,” he said. “You’ll see it before anyone else.”
“Very well, I guess I’ll leave you alone to work on it,” you said. “Just don’t forget, we must be at Lottie and Anthony’s engagement party before eight o’clock.”
He made a face. “After Anthony’s huge speech about responsibilities, how could I?”
“See, the speech was useful,” you pointed out, and walked away from him, popping a chocolate into your mouth. “But chocolates are still better!”
                                                    *
You had to admit, though you knew Lottie and Anthony’s engagement ball would be beautiful, even you did not see this coming. Every single guest looked like they were having so much fun while Anthony and Lottie seemed like they were in their own happy bubble, as if blind to anyone else in the ballroom.
“Anthony a married man…” Colin murmured as he sipped his drink while Eloise shook her head. “Now I know the world is coming to an end.”
Benedict grinned. “You do realize what it means right?” he asked. “Mother will focus on only you two the next season.”
“This is your fault, you know?” Eloise asked and Benedict tilted his head.
“How is that?”
“First you, then Daph…” she tilted her glass in Daphne and Simon’s direction who were talking to Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton on the other side of the ballroom. “And now Anthony. Even Colin almost got married this season!”
“The season of scandals,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders and Colin heaved a sigh.
“Has someone put the whole family under a spell I wonder.”
“Not me,” Eloise said. “I remain to be the smartest among you all.”
Benedict pushed her shoulder with his in a joking manner. “Does this mean you’re not looking forward to the next season when you will have so many suitors to entertain, El?”
“You take that back!”
“I’ll help you threaten them,” you assured Eloise. “Don’t worry. Eloise before I forget, do you want a knife?”
“She does not want a knife,” Benedict answered in a haste before Eloise could. “I do not trust her with a knife.”
“I second that,” Colin said and Eloise leaned in so that she could whisper into your ear.
“Please tell me you’re getting me a knife.”
You winked at her and nodded, then sipped your drink.
“When we return to Aubrey Hall in two weeks, we will have nowhere to run,” Eloise said. “I mean I can’t stay at your house because you two are sickeningly in love, and so are Daphne and Simon, and now, Anthony and Lottie. Where am I supposed to go to in order to see no romance?”
“It is a challenge,” you said and Colin shot you a look.
“Did you miss the part she said you two are sickeningly in love?” he asked. “I mean you’ve always been but lately it’s even…it’s different, it’s much more than before.”
You and Benedict exchanged glances and you pursed your lips to hold back your grin while Benedict ran a hand over his mouth to keep his expression straight.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he managed to say and Lady Bridgerton raised a hand to motion at them to come over. Eloise heaved a sigh and looked up at Colin.
“Come on,” she said and Colin downed his drink, then they both made their way to her. You looked around, standing on your tiptoes.
“Have you seen Josie?” you asked. “Or Andrew, or Bess?”
“Not yet,” Benedict said. “I’m sure they will be here soon.”
“Hello you two!” Lottie’s cheerful voice reached you, making you turn around. She threw herself into your arms and you hugged her tight, smiling wide. Anthony grabbed the glass from Benedict’s hand and took a sip, making him frown.
“Get your own God damn glass!”
“Every time any footman makes his way to me, someone pulls us into a conversation,” Anthony said, still holding Lottie’s hand with his free hand. “I swear to you, I couldn’t even eat anything yet.”
“Still doesn’t explain why you’re taking my glass—”
“I’m the oldest, that’s why.”
“This is your engagement ball!”
“I could give you my glass Tony,” Lottie said like a melody and Anthony pressed a kiss on the back of her hand.
“No need my love.”
“Everyone has so much to tell us,” Lottie told Benedict. “So much advice about marriage too, it’s rather overwhelming.”
“Probably they’re still waiting for you to wake up and see the light and change your mind about marrying him Charlie, the wedding is next week so it’s not too late—”
“Benedict!”
“I mean he stole my drink, is this really the type of person you want to grow old with?” Benedict motioned at Anthony with a grin while Anthony rolled his eyes.
“Unbelievable.”
“I’m still working on your wedding present by the way,” he told her, making her gasp. “It should be ready by the time the social season is over.”
“You got us a wedding present? Aw Benny, you shouldn’t have!”
“Yeah well, if you can’t fight it…” Benedict said with a shrug but the happy grin on his face told a different story than his pretend nonchalance. Lottie pulled him into a hug, and he hugged her back.
“Congratulations to you both by the way,” Benedict said as Lottie pulled back, “In case I forgot to say that. I really am happy for you.”
“That is uncharacteristically mindful of him, is this your doing?” Anthony asked you and you let out a laugh.
“I’d love to take credit but no.”
“And how is it going with the plan—” Anthony started but cleared his throat when Benedict shot him a look. “The plan with the…the art thing that you uh—that you do?”
You pulled your brows together. “Hm?”
“I have this plan for a new painting,” Benedict said. “It’s going quite well brother.”
“Keep me informed about that, will you?”
“Sure—”
“Oh isn’t this the happy couple?” A lady you didn’t even know touched Lottie’s arm. “Do you two mind if I borrowed them?”
“Of course not,” you said and Anthony heaved a dramatic sigh while Lottie squeezed his arm as if trying to console him.
“We will see you later,” she said and both Anthony and she followed the lady to the small crowd on the other side of the ballroom. You pressed your lips together to hide your smile, then looked up at Benedict.
“What plan?”
Benedict turned to you. “Hm?”
“What plan was he talking about?”
“I told you,” Benedict said with a shrug of his shoulders, then held out his hand. “Just the painting, that’s all. A dance, my lady?”
                                                *
By the time the ball was over, it was almost dawn. Lottie looked like she was about to pass out from exhaustion, so you gave her a quick hug, then you and Benedict told everyone else you would see them the next day and -which was technically today- and got on the carriage.
“Is it just me or was Andrew a bit distracted?” you asked while the carriage moved through the street and Benedict thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“Probably because Felix wasn’t there?”
“Maybe,” you murmured and rested your head on his chest, letting out a small groan. “I’m so tired.”
Benedict buried his nose into your hair, throwing his arm over your shoulder so that he could hold you tighter.
“At least they’ll have their wedding before we all go back to countryside,” he said. “I wouldn’t be expecting any other ball from them for at least next season.”
“Because they’ll be very busy?” you asked with a grin and he made a face.
“Yeah yeah… Please don’t remind me.”
“What are you getting them as their wedding present?”
“I’m going to paint their portrait together,” he said as you pulled back to look at him better, your jaw dropping. “And send it to Aubrey Hall because I honestly think when I see my sweet Charlie as Anthony’s wife, I might just—”
“Stop with that, I was there when you told them you were happy for them,” you said with a laugh. “So is that what you’re working on then?”
“Not yet,” he said. “I’ll get to it once I’m done with the painting I’m already working on. It’s about to be finished.”
“And I’ll be the first to see?”
“And you’ll be the first to see,” he said with a mischievous smile before kissing you, and the carriage came to a stop. Benedict got out of it and helped you out, and you both started walking to the house, still holding hands.
“So everyone is going back to Aubrey Hall in two weeks then?”
“Well everyone but us and Daphne,” he said as you two climbed the marble stairs leading to the house. “I forgot you still haven’t seen there, or our home in the countryside.”
A warmth spread inside your chest and you took a deep breath.
“But we’re moving all the flowers from this greenhouse to the countryside house?” you felt the need to ask and he nodded his head.
“Of course. Might be a little time because the greenhouse there still hasn’t finished but I was thinking,” he said as you both reached the door and walked through it, entering the foyer. “Maybe we could get some and put them in the house and once the greenhouse is finished—”
“Mr. Bridgerton,” the butler’s voice reached you and you both turned your heads to see him approach you. “There’s a note for you, it arrived a couple hours ago.”  
“Thank you,” Benedict said, taking the letter from him and you tilted your head.
“Just now?” you asked. “That’s not very common, everyone is asleep. Who’s it from?”
Benedict ripped open the envelope to read the note, a grin curling his lips as he got to the end of the lines, and let out a breath.
“Oh thank God, finally.”
“What?” you asked and Benedict lowered the letter, then gave you a soft smile.
“My love, I haven’t been the most honest with you I’m afraid,” he said, making your heart skip a beat and you pulled back slightly, a frown pinching your brows together.
“About what?”
“Me and Andrew, remember we talked the other night?”
You nodded your head, still frowning.
“Well you said your parents didn’t even know Josie was here, but that they were blackmailing her about that letter.”
“Yes?”
“So it got me thinking, if they didn’t even know she was here, there was no reason at all why they would bring the letter with them here.”
You blinked a couple of times. “Uh… I suppose?”
“So we sent someone to the countryside to go find that letter in their house while your parents are here.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“Someone we can trust—Anthony knows him, that’s what he was talking about today,” he assured you. “And I told him to take the letter to Andrew and give it to him directly, no one else, but to let me know immediately so…” he held up the note. “He apparently found it and wrote to me that he would wait for Andrew to come home so that he can deliver it in person.”
You could feel the shock taking over your whole mind and you tried to wrap your head around it.
“…You mean to tell me—”
“I mean to tell you that there’s nothing at all they can use against Josie and Bess,” he said. “And they’re not going to hurt you, or Josie, or Teddy. Ever again.”
A relieved laugh spilled from your lips before you flung yourself into his arms and he caught you to hug you tight, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.
“Ben, I don’t know what to say,” you managed to mutter, still in disbelief. “Thank you, you…you didn’t have to help—”
“Your family is my family,” he said. “Of course I will help however I can.”
You looked up at him and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I love you,” you said and he gave you a lopsided grin.
“I love you too,” he muttered and leaned in to brush his lips against yours again, making you smile. “In this life and the next, darling.”
Chapter 41
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shunsuiken · 1 year
Text
CAN’T TAKE MY EYES OFF OF YOU.
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pairing. kamisato ayato x fem!reader
genre. fluff + he’s so fucking in love with you (we love to see it)
synopsis. your husband notices how you seem to look away whenever he makes eye contact with you. so tonight he finally confronts you in his own way.
wc. 0.8k
an. yall i love this man so much omg i cant i was literally blushing while writing this goodbye i'll see myself out now 🚶🏻‍♀️
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“ah if only i was reborn as the mirror on your vanity," your husband sighs from behind you.
you laugh and swipe the last bits of your moisturiser on your cheeks. “why?”
“because you get all close and personal with it...” ayato trails off and stares at your figure with steady eyes. “...but not with me."
you raise your brows in confusion, and for some reason your heart skips a beat. "what ever do you mean?" you ask without even looking at him.
ayato walks towards your sitting-figure. tonight, his lavender stare is not one he looks at you with when he wants to share an intimate night with you. rather, it's one of curiosity. he wants to know why you look away every time he has his eyes trained on you. even now you do not meet eyes with him. why is that?
do you not love him as much as you used to? was there something he didn't realise he did wrong? were you bored of life as the yashiro commissioner's wife? he can't seem to think of any other reason for you to look away from him. besides, he loves your eyes! they're such a wonderful shade so he can only wonder why you turn away and limit the time he gets to stare into them.
while those thoughts flood ayato's head, your palms are sweating at how close he's become. panicked, you turn around and stand to meet his eyes at a less strained angle, using the back of your foot to nudge your chair underneath your vanity.
ayato's pout almost makes you laugh if not for how his eyes do not leave your face. you can already feel a herd of butterflies making themselves at home in your stomach at how closely he's observing your expression.
"you're doing it again."
"w- what?" you question, eyes flickering from his gaze to his vanity on the opposite side of the room.
ayato's brows crease ever so slightly, an ungloved finger rising so he can tilt your face towards his. "sweetheart, look at me please."
your cheeks heat up as your hands scramble for something to hold onto when you realise he's closed the gap between your clothed bodies. you then feel a hand planted on your waist. oh archons. "i- it's—it's going to be really difficult if you look at me like that!" your voice does nothing to defend you, high-pitched and breathy.
ayato tilts his head, as if wondering what you mean and you're not entirely sure if he's faking it or not.
you blink, moving your gaze away by an inch but your husband is quick to gently manoeuvre your jaw back so you continue to face him. your expression creases in protest. he only chuckles at your reaction, a smile finally appearing on his handsome face.
he traces circles with his thumb on your waist as an attempt to calm you down. after seeing how you've reacted to his forwardness, the yashiro commissioner is able to put two and two together. "tell me what's on your mind, dear." sigh, does he even realise your string of sanity is about to snap?
you're so out of it. you can't even bear to focus on his words when he studies your facial features like that—ooh that's not good for your heart. your bottom lip is quivering.
you are all he sees.
"n- nothing," you say in a hushed tone.
even after sharing so many lovely nights together, it seems that you still cannot handle the way he looks at you. adorable. he thinks. but he can't just leave his wife suffering all by herself like this. after all, what kind of husband would leave his wife in a state like this? hands pawing on his chest softly, lips curved in nervousness and eyes blinking as if to help you cope with his loving gaze.
"you say 'nothing' but so much is written across your face," a short giggle leaves his lips in amusement. "why don't you join me in bed, hm? i can look at you some more there."
you whine and shove your face into his shoulder. "don't mock me."
ayato takes his chance to pull you in between his arms for a warm embrace, sighing contently. "now i'm not mocking you, i'm simply saying that you are a delight to look at and as your husband, shouldn't i be looking at you the most?"
a playful scoff leaves your lips, momentarily lifting your head to meet his eyes. "oh don't say that—or your reports will come after you."
your husband groans, "darling, don't remind me. i've personally had enough looking at those useless documents." you then hear him click his tongue. "don't try changing the subject either, so join me in bed, will you?"
you sigh an exasperated 'okay, fine' before yelping as you're unceremoniously dragged on to the bed by your giggling husband.
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chronicbeans · 1 year
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Wally and a Puppeteer Reader
I was just kinda thinking to myself... What would happen if he somehow got into contact with one of the puppeteers working on the show? Idk I just like to write what I find interesting. Lol.
TW: Obsessive Behaviors, Mentions of Stalking, Idol Worshipping
🍎 The first time Wally realized what is going on, he's going to panic. Yes, Wally has been aware of the fact that he is a puppet, but he never really understood what that meant. He has always just seen it as a name for what species he is. Kind of like how humans are called humans and that caterpillars are called caterpillars. Just a word that had no implications on his free will.
🍎 However, when he sees the outside of his world... the bright lights setting the stage, the crowd of people all running around and setting things up, he is terrified. These... creatures... look so similar to his neighbor that he has seen every now and again. The only difference is that they are usually smaller and, compared to some of these versions he now sees, have no fluff on their face.
🍎 Then, he sees YOU. He recognizes you. He's seen you in the background, behind one of the smaller creatures he calls his neighbor. You sometimes even come by to check on them. What are you doing here? He doesn't know, but you are an immediate comfort amongst the strange, unfamiliar faces... Even if he doesn't know you.
🍎 Next thing he knows, you are picking him up in your warm arms and carrying him somewhere. He watches as his neighborhood slips away from him, the horrifying realization that his world is just a small little stage in it of itself. His neighbors all being taken by their own strange creatures to their own little areas.
🍎 On your way to wherever you are taking him, someone happens to pop in. Complimenting you on your love for the little puppet in your arms, the excellent care you give him when handling him, and telling you that you are surprisingly good at puppeteering for a newbie on the set. You're going to make an amazing replacement for the last guy.
🍎 Wally cannot believe his ears. What's a puppeteer? This is the first time he's heard of that word. It isn't until the odd fellow asks you to make Wally say his iconic line that he realizes what is happening. You suddenly maneuver him, making a poor impression of his voice as you force him to say "You think I'm the absolute most? You're the most to me, neighbor!"
🍎 Yes... the situation is all coming together in his mind. You must be the one behind everything! All that he does and all that he says is in your hands. All that his friends do and say should be in your hands too, right? It would make sense... If you can control him, then you can control the others!
🍎 Soon enough, you've brought Wally to a room with a little tote box near the corner. You begin checking him over, looking for rips or tears, before wrapping him in a plastic bag. Then, you place him in the box, making sure he isn't squished at all.
🍎 Left alone with his thoughts, Wally thinks about everything that has happened. This all feels too real to be a dream, as much as he sort of wishes it was. In fact, it feels more real than his life before this. He must do something, anything, but he doesn't know why. He just has to do something other than sitting in this bag inside a tote.
🍎 So, after a few hours of trying to move, he finally succeeds. He's gotten himself out of the plastic bag... Then, after a few more minutes, he hears someone return to the room. Lying limp, he watches as you open the box. Your eyes grow wide as you look down at him. You turn your head to look around the room, before crying out "Hey... Dave... Did you mess with Wally?" "Nah, (Y/N)! Why? Is something wrong?" With that, you leave to go talk to this... "Dave".
🍎 Of course, he follows. Very slowly, since he isn't used to walking in this... odd way. His legs feel weak. Like they are filled with stuffing. It is a strange feeling. He is also so incredibly cold. Why is he cold, yet, you are so warm?
🍎 He find you talking to another one of your kind. You and the other strange creatures that make up your species seem so frightened by him moving. Why is it okay for you to make him move, but not for him to move on his own? Why are they assuming someone tampered with him?
🍎 You seem most worried. How... introguing. You seem so kind compared to the rest of these odd creatures! So benevolent in your worries. The others talk about him like some sort of object, but you seem to genuinely have an attachment to him!
🍎 He wants to learn more about your kind - no... YOU in specific. He could care less about the others. You are all that really matters at the moment. If he is wrong about his assumption that you control all in his world, be it that others of your kind control his friends or whatnot, he will deal with that. For now, he can watch from a distance. When you all go, he'll be sure to learn the layout of this new land he is in. When he does, he can find you wherever you are in here. He can find out what you love and hate, what makes you tick, what makes you sad.
🍎 That sounds like a wonderful thought to him... maybe, if he leaves little gifts for you, you'll be sure to make everyday of his good. Happy parties with all of his friends, no bumps or bruises on himself or his friends, no rainy days that makes Home sad and cold... If it takes giving gifts, he'll gladly do so! You are so warm and benevolent, he would do so even if it never became fruitful for making his world perfect.
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Why do you look so hot in it?
A/N: Hi... So this is the first time I am posting something 😅 I was re-watching their old videos and I got this idea.... I am posting this because this just would not leave my mind!! So I hope you like it and let me know if you do.
Ps. The prank that I am mentioning is when Elton had superglued a pink wig to Colby's head.
Warning: implied smut but it's only towards the end.
This is Colby Brock x reader
You and Colby have been dating for the past few months.
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It was 8 in the morning and you were driving to Colby's house, the trap house, to meet him. He did not make it to the party where you were supposed to meet him last night and you got worried. You called him about three times and then received an overdramatic message from him stating that his career is over. Now you love Colby, you really really do but boy can he be overdramatic. He can turn any minor inconvenience into a life threatening situation. He told you that Elton pranked him and now he has to hide in his room for the rest of his life.
You reached the trap house and parked your car in their driveway. You opened the front door that is always unlocked. God they really need to lock their doors. "Colby!!" You call out, walking in searching for your boyfriend. When you reach the backyard you hear whistles coming from the construction site next door and Elton laughing his ass off. You walk out of the house again towards the street just to see Colby wearing a small princess dress in a pink wig twerking in the middle of the street. Nobody had noticed you yet and corey kept yelling at Colby to 'clap his ass'
"What the fuck did I just walk into?" You say capturing everyone's attention.
As soon as they saw you they burst out laughing, Elton kept pointing the camera in your direction as you stood gobsmacked trying to make sense of what you saw. Colby on the other hand was hiding his face in his hands completely mortified that you had seen him do that.
Elton was the first to speak up, "How do you like Colby's twerking y/n?"
"i am still trying to understand what happened to him... Like.... what in the world is going on?" You were speechless.
Corey spoke up as Elton kept laughing, "Elton superglued the pink wig to Colby's head."
"Okay that explains the pink hair but why is he wearing a dress that can easily pass as a maid outfit in some porno?" You asked now starting to laugh as the initial shock was gone. Your comment made them laugh harder and turned Colby's face bright pink. "Thank you for that babe... I really appreciate it." He deadpanned. You just winked back and gave him a flying kiss.
"Also also he got a date!" Corey added.
"A date?"
"Yeah the construction worker right there thinks Colby looks hot and is going to pick him up tonight."
"Oh my God." You laughed hysterically. "You should have told me sooner I would've brought my makeup pouch to help him get ready for the big date!!"
"Okay let's get back inside the house before I embarrass myself more than I have already." Colby sighed fast walking into the house. You watched him walk in and started cat calling him. "Damn princess peach got a fat ass!" Whistling as he turned around to give you a small twerk.
You follow him inside,"You still haven't answered my question though!!! Why are you wearing this costume??"
"Because... I have a photoshoot today. Which by the way got scheduled like what 20 minutes ago and Elton said that if I wore this costume he'll help me get rid of the wig. But apparently he was just bluffing to make me wear this!!" Colby said. Defeat was evident in his voice and as sorry as you felt for him you couldn't stop laughing. This was a damn good prank.
"No I do know how to remove the wig." Elton interjected.
"Yeah but it would burn my scalp!" Colby shot back.
"It MIGHT burn your scalp... And your hair might never grow back."
"Elton!" You gasped. "Please tell me you are joking.... I cannot have a bald boyfriend!"
"THAT is what you are worried about?? Not the fact that it might end my career?" Colby asked with his eyes wide and cartoonish. His hands waving all over the place just flabbergasted as the others started laughing hysterically at his reaction.
"No I am not worried about your career!! Your fans love you way too much to stop supporting you just because you are bald.... Also now that I think about it you can have as many different hair styles and hair colours as you want if you lose all your hair. There are so many wigs to choose from!!!" You answered still giggling at the situation.
You have known for a long time even before the prank wars started that Elton lets his pranks go too far but he always has a solution. He knew how much Colby loves his hair so you trusted him to never hurt Colby.
"Or else just stay like this and we call you princess peach from now." I added just for Colby to shake his head and then scream into his hands. "My own girlfriend roasts me. You know you can defend me sometimes right?"
"Yeah but what's the fun in that princess?"
"Okay.... Okay I see how it is.." he slowly nods his head as he looks at me betrayed and absolutely done.
"Here take this." Elton says while handing him two bottles of nail polish remover.
"What is this?" Colby asks as he inspects the bottle.
"This is what will help you get rid of the wig."
"It's acid!" Corey interjects, "Bruh he literally handed you acid to burn your scalp!" You giggle again.
"Shut up Corey!" You gently scold him looking at Colby's scared expression. His face was drained of all colours like he had seen a ghost. "It's nail polish remover Colby... You'll be fine just make sure to not get it in your eye. It won't do any damage but it'll hurt like hell" I console Colby holding his hand.
He slowly nods and walks into the bathroom. He bends down and turns on the sink faucet then pours the nailpolish remover on his head and rinses it in the sink. "Ow.. ow... It's in my eyes." He backs away. His eyes were now red and watering. You go to him and help him wipe his face. "I told you to be careful!!" You swat his arm.
"I didn't do it on purpose!! Ooooowwww.... It hurts!!" He whined. You keep wiping the drops of water running down his forehead to avoid getting anything in his eyes. Elton zoomed in on Colby's face.
"Oww... It hurts... It hurts so bad... Especially this eye." Colby says pointing his to his left eye.
"Why don't you guys do this in the backyard instead of the bathroom. It would be much easier." You suggested.
"Yeah let's do that" Elton agreed and led the group to the backyard.
"So like should i just jump in the pool or something?" Colby asked
"Or we could use the hose." Corey said.
"Yeah a hose would be a good idea." You agreed as you hugged Colby's waist and kissed his exposed shoulder. Just as Corey went to get the hose Sam and Kat came down the stairs.
"Colby have you not met your other half?" Elton asked nonchalantly.
"No.." Colby says as he casually walked back in the house.
"Oh.. my...goood.." Sam laughed. "Like I saw Colby from upstairs and was like what the fuck but now like... How does this happen?" Sam asked gesturing to Colby's outfit.
Colby gave Sam the same explanation that he gave you a few minutes ago as you kept giggling quietly exchanging glances with Kat.
Finally after goofing around a bit more Colby ended up in the backyard pouring nail polish remover over his head as Elton hosed him down and you recorded them. The wig slowly came off as Colby celebrated.
Once the wig was completely off Elton kept spraying Colby with water. Colby rinsed his hair a bit and looked directly at the camera. As hard as you were laughing before you completely froze when he looked into the lens cause my god did he look good. He looked so good at this moment that you forgot what was going on and the only thing on your mind was Colby.
"I still cannot believe that I was twerking wearing this ridiculous outfit in the street." Colby groaned as the others laughed
"If this was a ridiculous outfit then why do you look so hot in it?" You blurted out. Everyone looked at you as you slapped your palm on your mouth.
"God damn y/n! I didn't know you were kinky." Corey commented as Elton whooped taking the camera from your hands and pointing it at you.
"I said what I said. He looks hot wearing this all wet." Everyone whooped as Colby laughed nervously. "Please tell me he gets to keep this outfit!" You add looking at Elton.
"Yeah he can keep the outfit." Elton giggled shrugging.
"Oh you are wearing this every once in a while." You deadpanned looking Colby dead in the eyes as others hollered.
"As long as you guys keep it down and I don't get to know about any details, Colby gets to keep the outfit!" Sam interrupted.
"You have a deal blondie" I shake his hand laughing.
Once everyone calmed down they filmed the outro. After they finished filming everyone left to get back to their schedules leaving you and Colby alone in the backyard. You walked closer to Colby and gave him a long kiss.
"So I look good in a princess costume?" He asked looking into your eyes
"Yep." You responded popping the 'p' "you look so fucking hot Brock... I swear you help me discover kinks that I didn't even know I had." You whispered as you played with his wet hair.
"You know I still have two hours before I have to leave for the photoshoot." He whispered back as he kissed your cheek.
You immediately pull back and drag him back in the house towards the stairs saying "To the room!" As Colby followed you laughing and stumbling the entire way.
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I hope this was good!!
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xzhdjsj · 8 days
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Iron on my Tongue
Isaac x Reader
Isaac has a bad feeling about your meeting. (Isaac's POV)
Warnings: anxiety, description of blood, death of character
@chilliesillie and @kieran-rhoades created a vivid image in my mind of this scene so here it is written for you my loves<3 I hope I was able to capture this the way you imagined!
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It’s a dim afternoon, grey clouds are settled in the sky with a promise of rain later and the wind is chilly. My partner isn't with me right now, maybe if they were I would be enjoying the weather more. I hope they make it back home before the shower.
They're out on their own business, a meeting with a client I introduced them to. As much as I'd like to pride myself in my improvements thus far, I still can't quite let them leave the house to meet someone completely unknown to me. Whatever client I hand over to them are well researched and kept on tab to ensure their meeting environment is a safe one and they’ll be able to get back home to me.
I still have my doubts regardless, but I can't control their every move. They deserve to live.  It’s funny because they tell me the same thing, "Isaac you deserve to live, without the worry and torment."
I don't think I'd ever be who I am today without them. The day I met them all those months ago, I'd never believed it if someone told me we'd not only be partners in my field of work, but also lovers. They're the one thing that means the most to me and I absolutely cannot let them get hurt. I trust them, and I know they'll do their best to stay safe but the underlying worry still bothers me.
There's this unusual feeling in my chest, the kind I haven’t experience in a while and worst of all, I'm not sure why it's there. It's bearable, but it's not. A distant but static feeling that hazes over my body and clouds my senses.
I take a sip of my coffee and its burns my tongue. It's hot, way too hot.
"Fuck" I pinch the space between my eyebrows and sigh.
My luck hasn't been the best today, but maybe a shower would wash away whatever this is and I can finally settle down. I push the cup aside and head for the bathroom, peeling the clothes from my body.
I let the water slide off my skin, the only thing on my mind is them. I could chalk this feeling up to just my anxiety, but this is more. This is an additional weight that presses against my chest and squeezes at my heart. An extra burden to carry on my shoulders, one I'm unfamiliar with yet I distantly relate to. Some sort of gut feeling that’s pointed in some unknown direction. I could easily pick up my phone and call them but their voice rings in my head.
"Here's the deal Isaac, no calls from you this time. We have to work something out little by little until you're comfortable with me leaving the house. Instead of you calling me, I'll call you before and after my meeting. Deal?"
I agreed to it of course. I want to be better. For them I want to be better, so each time I think of calling, I turn my phone screen down. I know their meeting started at 3pm and lasts about two hours, so I'm expecting a call at 5.
I step out the shower, tying my robe at the side. The first thing I do is glace at the clock.
4:55
I should be receiving that call soon, and since a shower did absolutely nothing to sooth my nerves, I'm hoping their voice will.
I'm back in the kitchen again, my phone sitting in front of me and I reach for the coffee I had left earlier. I take a sip and now it's too cold. What a day. I dump it down the sink without a second thought, it’s not important right now anyways.
5 o'clock rolls around and I'm impatiently bouncing my knee. There isn’t a single notification from them. 10 minutes. I'll wait 10 minutes and then I'll call. The feeling in my chests grows heavier and heavier and I'm counting down every second. I can't look away from my phone, waiting and hoping to see my screen light up.
5:07
That's basically 5:10 right? If I call now, it wouldn't make a difference. I frantically find their contact and click the small button near it.  I take a deep breath, then exhale. It's okay. They'll answer and say their meeting ran a little late and scold me for not waiting a full 10 minutes like I promised. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m able to fool neither my mind nor my heart.
It rings, and rings, and rings... then disconnects.
There’s no answer. My heart rate picks up and I call again.
Same as before, it rings but no answer.
I attempt to call again, but the phone slips from my grasp. I hadn't noticed it before but my palms are clammy and covered in sweat, cold sweat. I drag them against my robe and quickly snatch the phone off the floor, skipping a call entirely to find their location.
The little icon is not at their meeting location, it’s not at the coffee shop they enjoy visiting, its nowhere close to home. Instead it stays stagnant at a foreign location, a maze-like pathway between a block of buildings.
I’m unsure about almost everything at the moment, but one thing I know for certain is that I need to find them. I leave my house right away. I call until their voicemail is engraved into my skull. I send text after text, but there’s still no response. I check their location again but the only icon that moves is my own as I get closer to my destination.
The rest of the way I need to continue on foot. I have a gun tucked into the waist of my pants and I don’t know what awaits me, or if I’ll even be able to fight it but if I don’t find them I might go completely insane. My stomach turns at the scent, and sight before me. It’s a dirty alleyway, much dirtier than the one I found them in. It makes me sick. The unease in my body casts over me like a giant shadow and it’s starting to make sense. It feels like a rat in my stomach trying to claw its way through my mouth. I hate it. I hate it so much.
I find their phone, their bag and random sheets on paper scattered through path. They’re covered in muddy footprints and soaked in murky water. Something bad happened, that much I knew, but there’s 3, 4, 5 maybe 6 pairs of footprints here. They were outnumbered.
“Name!” I yell. “Where are you?”
I run further and further down but there’s no sign of them. My heart is pounding against my chest and I’m so so scared. I’m looking everywhere but there’s no one here. I grip onto my hair in frustration. Where are they? Did those people take them away? Who were they? There’re hundreds of people who’d want to hurt me but specifically WHO?
“I-Isaac…?” a weak voice calls behind me.
I’m overcome with relief when I hear them, but the state I see them in as I turn around fills me with worry and rage.
They’re holding onto the mouldy walls, sliding down to the ground when they couldn’t support themselves anymore. Their body and clothes are covered in mud and dirt, ripped and bruised. I rush over to them, supporting their weight against my own body.
I’m worried, so worried but I’m relieved they’re still here. I’m relieved they’re still alive.
“God, Pickle” I place a hand against their back, its warm and wet, and they wince in pain at the pressure. “Where are you hurt? Who did this to you?”
“Isaac,” they smile up at me, a hand reaching for my face. “You came. I knew you’d come.”
I hold their hand against my cheek. “Of course, my love. I’ll always find you I promised to protect you always.”
“My knight.” Their voice comes out faint and dull.
“Yours, always yours.” I lean down to kiss them, gently on their lips. It was supposed to be a simple kiss, more as reassurance to my self than them but I taste iron against my tongue, metallic and salty. I pull away abruptly and their body bends forwards choking on coughs as the red liquid spills from their lips. Blood.
It's on the concrete, my pants and my hands? The hand I had against their back… It's covered in blood?
Their jacket wasn’t soaked with water? The warmth I felt wasn’t from their body? It was their blood.
“Isaac.” Their hand is on my face again, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re *cough* spacing out my darling.”
I don’t bother responding, pulling their jacket off their shoulder. Red, it's all red. Their shirt is soaked through and through with blood and ripped in multiple areas. Stabs, fuck they were stabbed.
“No no no!” I panic. “I need to do something, I need to get you out of here!”
“Isaac please, I can barely move. Its’s *cough* gonna be okay, just please stay here with me.”
“How could I let this happen to you? Why not me instead?” I feel tears roll down my cheek and I’m terrified.
“It’s not your ugh fault Isaac. Please, for my sake, don’t blame yourself.” Their voice continues to weaken. I feel stupid for honouring their request of just staying here, but some part of me knows that there’s nothing I can do now.
 “Isaac, I love you”
“Yes, I know my love. I love you too, I love you more than anything.” I feel like a child again, crying my eyes out. I should be the one comforting them, but my voice is filled with fear and my breathing is unsteady.
“Thank you… for all you’ve done for me.” Their voice fades in and out. “Please don’t ever forget me”
Their hand falls from my face but I catch it pressing it back onto my skin. “No, you have to keep your eyes open! Please! Keep your eyes open name! Don’t let go of me!”
“I’m… sorry Isaac. I don’t think I can.” They barely whisper, their eyes struggling to stay open.
“No please, not now! I’ve only just gotten you, you- you can’t leave me yet.” I held them close, sobbing into their hair.
We never made it home before the downpour. I stayed there with them to the very end. I held them in the freezing cold until their breaths slowed. I held them until the warmth drained from their body and they also grew cold. I stayed there until left me for good.
I held my composure, for their sake, wrapping them in my jacket and took them home. I washed their body until they were completely clean before tucking them into bed. One last time, they were by my side. Tomorrow they’d be resting in my garden resting among the flowers, and my mother would finally meet the love of my life. I hope she’d be proud of me, I hope they’d reflect fondly of me.
I hope they’d forgive me for the things I must do in the future.
I hope they’ll shield their eyes and stay blind to the things I will do. Every last breath of mine will be used to avenge them. I will find those who are responsible for this, and I’ll make sure they regret it.
I couldn’t protect as a knight, so I will destroy everything as a shadow.
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shiro-s2e2-erukinzu · 4 months
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Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 93... You have been warned...! 👌
[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]
AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!
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IT HAPPENED...! IT FINALLY HAPPENED!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! AHHHHHHHHHHH!! 😵
Honestly, words cannot describe how crazy this chapter was, but we're gonna talk about it anyway...!! 👀 LET'S GO!!! 😆
The chapter begins with everyone checking how well they did on finals, and Anya did a whole lot better than last time...!! 😆
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I AM SO PROUD OF HER!!! 👏😄
Anya went from 213th to 168th place!! 🎉 Let's hope that Anya continues to improve in the future...!! 😊👍
Then, we finally got to see how well she did in Classical Language and...:
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She got second place...!
But, she will still receive a Stella for it!! 👏😆Then, we find out that she got 24 points in math, which is just below the cut off point... Which means...:
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So, not only did Anya get a Stella, she ALSO received A TONITRUS BOLT!!? 😵😂🤣😌
GODDAMNIT ANYA!! 😂 That means the score is still tied, but now it's 5 and 5 until she either becomes an Imperial Scholar or gets expelled...!! 😌
Then, we got probably my new favorite Loid expression...:
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🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂 I'M SO SORRY LOID!!🤣
This poor man can't catch a break, but at he's quite proud of Anya for doing well on the test...!! 😊
After that, we cut to Authens praising Anya as well, but Sigmund says something that intrigues me...:
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"...One day you'll experience the frustration of realizing that hard work is not always rewarded..."
Hmm... What could this mean...? Personally, if Sigmund does have something to do with the experiments that were conducted on Anya, then this could be his way of saying that not many know of his scientific experiments... But, that's just a guess at this point and I could very well just be reading too much into this single sentence... 🤔
Moving on, before Anya goes to bed that night Loid asks her a question...:
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I was surprised that Twilight asked this!! 😲 But his question turned out to be for naught because Anya doesn't really remember... 😔 So, Twilight just tells her to forget about what he asked and now I'm wondering if this will lead Twilight finding out the truth about Anya's past and that she's a telepath... 🤔
Well anyway, we cut to Anya and Damian receiving Stellas for doing well on the test, and then it's the middle school students turn... AND GUESS WHO SHOWS UP...?! 👀
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DEMETRIUS MOTHER F---ING DESMOND!!!😵
AFTER ALL THIS TIME, HE HAS FINALLY APPEARED...!! 👀
I can't believe that I was ACTUALLY RIGHT that he was gonna look more like his dad...! (Check out this post where I drew what I thought he might look like!! 👍)
But to continue, Demetrius is also as strange as his mother and father... ESPECIALLY BECAUSE OF THIS...!!:
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After finally getting to meet him and seeing that Anya can't read his mind, my original theory that he might be working with his father, just got thrown out the window...!! Because now, I think that Demetrius has been experimented on... 😥 I hope that I'm wrong, but I just don't know this point...
AND THINK THAT'S ENOUGH ABOUT THIS CHAPTER FOR TODAY!
Today's chapter was excellent, but now that Demetrius has finally shown up, my mind is going crazy about what this ALL MEANS!😫
Anyway, I think I'll stop for today and possibly regroup with myself to figure out WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE DESMONDS!! (Except for Damain, who is the only normal one there..!!🥲) So until the next Mission or if I try attempt to figure out what is up with the Desmonds; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! Later!! 👍
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lidiasloca · 7 months
Text
more than this (azriel x reader)
summary: after Azriel and reader had a summer together, the last thing Az was expecting was to face her again. (angst).
previous chapter
chapter six
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You close the door behind you, and the sound of it reverberates across the loud silence.
You eye Azriel; he’s standing very still, looking at you expectantly, as if anticipating the first blow to be yours.
But after a while, he seems to understand you are expecting him to talk first.
“Elain - she told you something,” he says but it sounds like a question.
At that, you feel your jaw clench, your whole face tensing into trying so hard to not let tears fall. He sees that, or at least his shadows do; running near his ear, whispering things you cannot hear, nor wish to hear.
He takes a cautious step towards you. You instantly take a step back. “Y/n,” he breathes as if in pain. “Please, let me explain.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “You won’t dare deny it, will you?” you say, mustering raw sarcasm in your tone to disguise your hurt. “You won’t have come all this way to deny it.” Too soon you feel tears running down your cheek. “Right?”
You hate it, and you hate yourself for being so weak. But above it, you hate him.
Selfish, manipulative, hurtful, lying Azriel.
Someone you wish you hadn’t met.
Someone you wish had only stayed as a summer memory.
Nonetheless, you find yourself waiting for his answer like a fool. Hoping you’re wrong, very wrong. 
But you are not; you’re sure of that when he avoids your eyes, when he clenches his fists.
“Well, it’s pretty secret, -you know Azriel-, but we… sort of have something.”
“For how long?”
 “Somewhere in May.”
You try to stop a sob, putting your hand over your mouth swiftly. Closing your eyes tightly, not bearing the sight of him.
“Y/n,” you hear him whisper even though your ears are ringing, blurring the exterior sounds. 
Then you feel his hands on your shoulders, and it brings you back to here, to now, to him. 
You open your teary eyes, meeting with his, noticing the lack of life in them. Nothing similar to their hazel color during the summer.
“Y/n.”
Another sob passes your lips. “You lied. To me, to her - Azriel, you lied.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says sounding desperate.
“Why did you have to lie? I tru - I trusted you. She trusted you!” You try to talk, to let him know how much you hate him, but the pressure in your throat is making it quite impossible. And you know the tears all over your face make you look pathetic. “She was telling me how you taught her training stuff. Gods. She told me about you as I was looking her - looking her dead in the eye knowing damn well what I had done. What you had done!”
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”
“Stop saying that! You are not sorry at all; you don’t care at all. Not for me. I always was just a side ting. A toy. Never - never anything more to you. You have never cared.”
He moves his hand to your wet checks. “That’s not true. Y/n. That’s not true, I swear.”
I swear.
“You want me to believe you now? Really, Azriel?”
“I’m telling you the truth,” he replies, his eyes pleading. But you don’t buy it, not anymore. Especially not when his scarred fingers caress your face, coaxing you to calmness. “Stop lying! You were with her, you are still with her! You li-”
“I’m not with her anymore, Y/n,” he cuts you off. “And I’ve always cared for you. Always. So much that when I first met you - this past summer - I couldn’t stop myself.” You watch him struggle with words, trying to not duck his head at your glaring. “I had to know you. I had to. And after that night, I couldn’t keep myself away from you. I wanted to be with you all the time. And I knew if I only had that summer away, only that summer to be with you, I had to take the opportunity. And I selfishly did.”
You watch him incredulously, taking the words in.
“I’m so sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you, Y/n, I swear. But when you came to the House of Wind - when I saw you again. Gods, I didn’t know what to do. I was so mad at myself - at the imminent consequences of my acts. And I - I hold that anger against you. And I’m so sorry; for that and for - for lying to you. I will be eternally sorry.”
It disgusts you; every single word he’s saying, the way he’s eyes scan your face, and especially, the way his hands cup your face. These same hands that weren’t meant to have touched you in the first place. It utterly disgusts you.
“Don’t touch me,” you whisper angrily. His touch falters but doesn’t back up. “Don’t touch me with those han-” The shout dies in your throat at the instant realization of your words.
But it’s too late.
He removes his scarred hands and hides them behind his back. And though it’s not what you had meant; never had you been anything but adoring of every part of him, especially his hands. So his. Hands that held a story of him he had told you with trust and comfort. You cannot help but feel glad you are hurting him back.
Maybe you’re just as depraved as him. 
“Don’t hate me, Y/n. Please.”
He deserves it, you make yourself think.
You dry your tears with your sleeves quickly and make yourself say, ignoring his previous words, “You’ve already explained yourself; now, go.”
He moves again closer to you. “Please don’t-”
“Go, Azriel! Just go,” you cut him.
“Ple-”
“Azriel, get out. Or I will make Helion drag you out of the court.”
“I have more to say,” he mutters, his voice suddenly dangerous. You know the mention of Helion is the reason. 
“I do not care.”
His eyes close but he doesn’t accept defeat. Not at all. “Gods - what do you want me to say?!” Your mouth parts in surprise at the angry tone he uses. He has no right - absolutely no right - to be mad. “What the hell do I have to say exactly for you to forgive me?!”
“Don’t you dare raise your voice, Azriel. I said go!”
“No.” He replies. “Don’t push me away.” He takes your wrist softly, but you try to pull away, failing as he catches it again, this time more restraining. “Y/n, you don’t understand, I-”
Then silence.
“You what?”
“I still cannot bear not being near you. Y/n, I’ve tried, but since that day, at the House of Wind, where I got to be close to you again, alone in that room, something - I felt… alive, lighter. And I had missed you so much, I realized. I don’t want to miss you anymore.”
As more tears threaten to fall, you consider backing off yourself. Leaving the room before you humiliate yourself. 
This, this was all you had ever wanted to hear. 
But not now, not anymore.
“Get out,” you breathe, staring at his eyes.
He is too close.
“You don’t want to listen. You don’t want to hear the truth,” he says slowly as if he didn’t want the words to actually get out.
“You know nothing about truth.” You reply, still feeling his scarred hand on your wrist. 
Azriel sighs as if in exhaustion. “What I did was so wrong; I know, and I will never forgive myself for hurting you that way. But, please, Y/n, you know me, I’ve told you everything, you know my heart; let’s not - please don’t waste this that we have.”
He had sure as hell not told you everything.
You glare at him. “We have nothing, Azriel. You said it yourself; ‘only one summer, then, nothing’.”
“I was so wron-.”
“It was your rule,” you interrupt him.
“It was!” He shouts, which makes you take a step backward, having him follow you immediately, towering over you as his hands still hold yours. You feel trapped. “It was a stupid rule I made for myself, 'cause no matter how much I wanted you, it was Elain who was supposed my mate! The third sister - It was supposed to be her.” His eyes then open in shock. “It was supposed to…”
Your breathing stops as you feel your heart break.
Wholly break.
He never deemed it possible for you to be his mate next to the Archeron sister.
But sadness doesn’t have a chance next to the bizarre feeling within your soul. It snaps you back to reality.
Azriel… 
Your mate.
“Y/n,” he breathes
“Get out,” you whisper for the hundredth time.
“No, Y/n, please; don’t do this.”
“Get out, please,” you plead, trying to get rid of his hold on your wrist, but it only makes him hold you tighter, walk even closer to you, till you have to tilt your head at a hurtful angle. 
“Don’t you feel it as well?” he asks.
Your mate.
“Get out.”
“Gods - Y/n, do not do this,” he cries, his face holding more emotion than it ever had. “Don’t ignore this. Don’t turn from us.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “There is no us. No matter what we are - no matter whatever, you made your choices. Choices that’ll condition everything. Choices that make us nothing.”
You watch tears cascading down his cheeks as he moves his other hand to hold you as well.
“Let go, Azriel, you’re hurting me,” you mumble.
But he doesn't seem to hear your words, as if in a trance. “I- please.” More tears start to fall from his pained eyes.
“I will call Helion in, Azriel; get out.”
“Don’t do this. Gods - Y/n, we are mates! How can-”
“Let me go, you’re hurti-”
“- you shove me away?” he continues over your protests. “I understand you are mad at me. But please just take your time to think. Don’t - don’t decide now. Please, Y/n. Just don’t turn from us.”
“No, Azriel!” He finally pays you attention, now that you are truly shouting. “I don’t want anything to do with you; a hurtful liar who hurts me just because he can. Who makes his choices abusing his power over others. I don’t want anything with you. I never will with a male like you.” 
He holds your gaze, his touch faltering yet still too tight. More tears fall every time he blinks. 
So you decide you have to do it; you have to make the last blow.
You have to ensure he hates you as much as you want to hate him.
So you spare a last glance at his hands on your wrists and then look up to him. “Maybe you’re just like your father, after all.”
And the aftermath it’s just blurry and vague; a memory you’d be better off forgetting. How more tears rolled down his shocked face. How his eyes lost all life in them. How he immediately moved his hands away from you as if your skin burned him. How he lingered in front of you for some seconds before he had it in himself to turn to the door.
How he left.
-Characters by Sarah J. Maas
HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3
well, the best defense is a good offense, ig. i literally have been listening to "if i were a boy" on repeat as I wrote this lol. oh, and i did told you i was inspired by august by taylor swift - so.
tag list:
@kalulakunundrum @bubybubsters @goradgirl @kennedy-brooke @going-through-shit @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @linoisqt @minakay @nastynesta @lockedinmytower @stargirl1714 @justagingerliving @marvelpotter @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @mis-lil-red@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @e-dollly @emptyporsche
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wardenparker · 2 months
Note
Hello my love! You DESERVE ALLL THE LOVE!!! Can I request Javi G? And “Wait! Please don’t leave!” For your AWESOME mini fic celebration???
😘😘😘😘
Regency!Javi Gutierrez. 867 words. "Wait! Please don't leave!" Co-written with @absurdthirst
Because we all need a little Darcy moment after the treat we got at the SAG Awards
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"We should not be alone." He knows that. Everyone knows it. Even young children learn that being alone together is something only for the grown and married. Or your siblings. But certainly nothing else. So why Mr. Gutierrez is standing in your library now with mud on his boots and no waistcoat is beyond you. You certainly did not send for him, and neither did anyone else in your household.
"The day is early." Javi glances out the windows, almost surprised to see that the sun still has not quite cleared over the horizon. The night has been long, spent pacing his own library as he wrestled with his feelings. Unable to leave things without a resolution, he hadn't even stopped to dress properly, or saddle a horse. Walking across the cleared fields that separated his own estate from your father's. "No matter." He glances back at you and is overwhelmed by your beauty. "I have a matter of importance to speak with you about."
"Then surely we should ring for my mother, so that you may speak to her as well." The great supper at the palace had lasted long into the night but surely your mother would be rested enough by now to be a suitable set of surveying eyes in the room. Goodness only knows what she will say if she wakens to her breakfast tray to find out you have been entertaining a man alone at daybreak. "Please wait here," you instruct him as politely as possible, making for the door. "I will go and fetch her myself."
"Wait! Please don't go!" Javi strides forward only to stop after a few steps, afraid for a split second that if you walk out the door he will never see you again. He cannot wait to tell you. "I love you."
Freezing in place does not stop your heart from leaping into your throat and pushing a distressed sort of squeaking sound out in the process. The fluttering in your belly is nearly violent as your mind races to catch up with the pounding of your blood in your ears. If you were a more delicate woman, you might have swooned where you stand. "You..." Slowly, or just as fast as your body will allow which is a near-glacial pace, you turn again to face him. "I must not have heard you correctly."
“I love you.” He repeats breathlessly, feeling like his heart is about to leap out of his chest. “As inconvenient a truth as that might be, I have found that I cannot spend another moment outside of your presence. I yearn to tell you the mundane things about my day and inquire about yours with little regard to your lack of family fortune or your prospects, I have decided that I cannot live without you.”
"How very generous of you, sir." It is nearly a hiss when it comes out, and all the giddy tension through your body evaporates as quickly as it came. "'With little regard to your lack of family fortune or your prospects'? I cannot think who taught you the syntax of romance, but they did you a hearty disservice if you were attempting to pay me a compliment."
He frowns in confusion and he shakes his head. “I am merely trying to express the lengths that my heart sings when you are near.” He protests. “I have no need of a dowry or a presence in society, merely your heart and hand in marriage are all I hope to have.”
“I may not know much of the world, Mr. Gutierrez, but even a country gentleman’s daughter knows it is impolite to remark on a lack of prospects when making a romantic overture.” The very idea that he is making an overture seems ludicrous, all things considered, but you must admit that in all the ways you have been thrown together lately there has been a…a string connecting you. It seems to be tucked deep inside you. Perhaps tied to a rib and tugging each time he strays a little too far away.
“I—” his mouth is agape as you call out his rude manners and he realizes that all of the jumbled thoughts that have been rambling around in his mind have come out. “My sincerest apologies.” He bows slightly and sighs. “Perhaps such an early audience was not wise.”
“Sleep has a way of soothing the thoughts.” The small touch of advice is kindly meant, although your hands shake with it and your heart pounds. He had not meant to insult. He simply spoke too quickly. “Perhaps you would rather return at teatime? To speak to my father?”
“Perhaps.” Javi sighs softly, aware of his blunder and more than certain you will reject him if he were to return. “Good morrow to you, then.”
“Good morning.” That pounding of your heart is there too fully to ignore, but not a word can be said about it. All you can hope is that he returns — and that when he does, he does not fumble in front of your father. If he does, the poor string tied to your rib may snap, and you would be adrift forever.
______
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actual-changeling · 5 months
Text
And once more with feeling: Why there is no magic trick or gun to either of their heads in the final fifteen.
Before you immediately run to my comments or hit reblog, please read the entire thing. If you're still mad, either read it again or sit with it, do not make it my problem. Genuine questions and discussions are always welcome, comments that make it clear you did not understand a word I said aren't.
Okay? Okay.
With that, welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner, and today we are going to compare their first and last argument in the bookshop—they are, fundamentally, the same. It both sets the scene for their relationship this season and works as immaculate foreshadowing of how they part.
I compared the scripts, which you can find here. It's incredible that OP put all that work into creating these because otherwise I would have gone insane doing it myself.
Now, the setting: they have a problem.
In ep1 it is Gabriel, in ep6 it is technically still Gabriel, or rather his now empty position in heaven. They solved one problem and now they're forced to deal with another one he also caused; meanwhile he's drinking space margaritas.
Crowley, stuck in his trauma-induced hypervigilance and paranoia, suggest putting as much distance between them and the problem as possible. I think it is interesting that in ep1 he wants to get Gabriel away from them, while at the end of the season he is ready to get them away from the problem.
So far, I have never seen anyone mention that change! And it's important! The entire season, it is hammered into our heads how much they love being on earth. It is THEIR bookshop and THEIR car and THEIR life.
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Crowley wants to protect that home, and Gabriel is a threat to it, a threat to both of them, their life, the bookshop—everything. He does not want to leave, he wants his peace and angel in one place.
Yet by allowing Gabriel to stay, Aziraphale destroyed the sense of comfort and safety Crowley slowly developed over the last few decades. Heaven nipping down every now and then to check in with Aziraphale is very different from him sheltering the Supreme Archangel who is running from 'something terrible' without even asking if he's alright with that.
Aziraphale calls it their bookshop, but he fundamentally still sees it as his space to govern and Crowley as a guest.
After another horrible week and having his previously safe space violated several different times and beings, Crowley is back to where he was before—without a home. That fragile existence broke apart, so he is standing in the heap of shards and telling Aziraphale 'I don't feel safe here anymore, let's leave'.
He lost his safe space, but he still has his safe person, his best and only friend, the person he loves. I doubt he cares where exactly they go as long as they're together and it's safe.
Returning to heaven—it is the one place Crowley cannot follow him to. It's literally the worst option, he can't go back, he won't go back. So he invokes the bookshop again, if you don't want to stay for me, stay for the bookshop, your books, your corner of existence that I thought we had carved out for ourselves.
'Nothing lasts forever' and 'you're at liberty to go' have the same underlying meaning—you're not welcome in this house anymore, it was your safe place, not anymore. Both times, he's essentially kicking him out.
Aziraphale then switches it up again!
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Same manipulation tactic, first making Crowley feel rejected and unwelcome, then trying to pull him back in by promising and showing affection. He's desperate, he's attempting to get Crowley into his "saviour" role because he knows he has a hard time not saving him from whatever trouble he gets him into. Aziraphale knows him so damn well, and he uses that knowledge to get what he wants.
'If you won't, you won't' has the same implication as 'then there's nothing more to say'—I am ending that conversation, you can leave now, he even makes the same face both times.
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In ep1, that's that, Crowley takes his emotions and leaves.
The lightning bolt is the kiss. A sudden, heavy discharge of pent-up feelings that has been a long time coming, but in the end he is more desperate, less controlled, at his emotional rock bottom. Everything he thought to be true about their relationship came crashing down around him.
In his mind, Aziraphale chose heaven over him—TWICE! First Gabriel, now Gabriel's position.
'You're on your own with this one' applies to both scenes, I think the reasoning behind that is pretty clear.
Now, some more verbal components and word meanings that I think are worth mentioning.
One of them is Crowley directly pointing out heaven's cruelties when Aziraphale is seemingly unaware of them, thinking of Gabriel/heaven as in in need of his 'help'.
I can take help him -> I can make a difference.
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It is, fundamentally, the same argument.
Aziraphale feels like he is the one who needs to play saviour (that Crowley actually hates it but Aziraphale loves it is a post for another time), the one being who can help Gabriel/heaven and fix all the problems.
Crowley correctly points out that they do not care about him and are just as cruel—if not more—as hell, that Gabriel tried to destroy him, that heaven will destroy all of them.
Their responses to that just shoot past each other and it is what Crowley himself tells us. Two different exactlys
Aziraphale's -> I am the only one who can fix this, I feel responsible for this, help me fix this.
Crowley's -> This is dangerous, it can get us killed, we cannot fix this. Come and be safe with me.
'He needs us' becomes 'I need you'.
'I would love you to help me' becomes 'we can be together'.
In episode 1, the argument isn't 'final', as such. Crowley is exhausted, sad, feels rejected, but when he finds out just how much trouble Aziraphale is in, he needs to go back and help him. It's instinct, he couldn't live with himself if he knowingly let him walk into the knife—and yet in episode 6 that is exactly what Aziraphale forces him to do.
It is why Crowley brings up the nightingales, why he kisses him: that primal, love-based desperation. This argument is final, he won't be able to follow him to heaven no matter what, he won't be able to protect him.
He is on his own with this one.
In conclusion, THIS is why the argument that happened in the final fifteen is real, there's no trick, no nothing.
They have had the same argument before, probably over and over again. Same structure but with lower stakes, and eventually they reconciled.
This time the stakes are as high as they possibly can be, which lures their most primal, honest arguments out of them.
Aziraphale wants to fix heaven, wants to help, still believes that they are fundamentally good, that he can make a difference.
Crowley has lived the truth, has been trying to tell him for centuries, and he is exhausted. He wants safety. He wants peace. He wants the two of them in a peaceful, not-fragile corner of existence that no one else gets to break ever again.
Not a single line was 'out of character', this is exactly who they are, with all their layers stripped away and their fears exposed. It's not pretty to watch, it hurts, it makes you ache, and yet they and we know that this is how it has the end—the only way it was ever going to end.
That is what makes it tragic.
However, even after all of that, there is one step left: reconciliation.
Season 3 is going to give it to us, in whatever shape or form. Neil knows what he is doing, and we can trust him to give them the ending they deserve.
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books-and-catears · 4 months
Text
9 days of Solomon: Humanity
TW: Angst, death and slight self harm mention, Hurt/Comfort
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"The Human Exchange students who have stolen many Devildom hearts" - the title of the magazine on Solomon's table. He stared lovingly, at the front page where you both posed for a picture, smiling at each other, your arms linked.
Your humanity - that was the one thing that he had sole knowledge of. He walked over to the window, watching you bid goodbye to the brothers who had come to visit Coccytus Hall.
He watches your tense shoulders relax, letting out a sigh of relief, the moment they were out of sight. The smile plastered on your face faltered as you walked into the house.
No more pretense. Now that it was only you and him again. He waited for you in the living room, opening his arms for you. You crashed into him without hesitation, breathing deeply.
"That must have been tiring?" He whispered, stroking your hair.
"Very much." You mumbled.
"Lets have an early dinner and head to bed."
"Solomon...can I sleep with you tonight again?"
"You know my answer will always be yes, MC."
It was going to be one of those nights again. You trembling and sobbing quietly, squeezing his hand with both of yours - after you thought he had fallen asleep.
He remembered the first time you did this, the sinking feeling in his chest, the searing rage in tightened fists, the devastation of seeing his bright and adorable apprentice in such pain.
You were definitely drunk from the human world cocktails you had downed in the bar. Else you would have never opened up.
"Solomon, I wish I could give you my pacts. I don't want them...I don't want anything to do with them... you're so lucky you got to live with the angels...Why couldn't Diavolo send me to Purgatory hall with you...I would have been so happy...I'm so tired of pretending it doesn't hurt..."
You were not happy at HOL with the brothers. That was the first truth bomb of many.
"I cannot stop having nightmares... I'm just a little human stuck among thousand year old celestials and demons...why am I here...I'm just a normal human... I'm *hic*...I'm so small...so insignificant...I just wanted a normal life...why am I here...why...can't I go back to normal..."
Solomon swallowed the growing lump in his throat. The way you smiled so brightly through everything, he forgot what an immense burden this would be for a normal human, how overwhelming all of this must have been for you.
"Noone here actually wants me... they're being nice to me for her...for Lilith...she's been gone for so long...and yet she is so loved...she's so lucky to be so loved...I wish..I really wish I could have that too..."
I do, MC. I love you. I love you for just you. He wanted to hold you tight and keep telling this to you. But he couldn't say it, not until you had let everything out.
"You know when I was dying...all I wanted to say a few goodbyes...I wanted to hug some people I loved...wanted to make some apologies...wanted to say a few thank yous... especially to you...But he didn't let me...he didn't let me...he made it so long and painful...why couldn't he have atleast made it quick...I wouldn't have fought to live if he just told me..."
Guilt pounded at his aching heart. He should have been there. He should have saved you.
"I'm so tired of the lies...Solomon, promise me if you run out of kindness for me one day...if you no longer want me around...please just tell me...I won't mind at all...I will do away with myself peacefully...I will cut off the pacts off my skin and give them to you if you'd like... please don't hurt me like he did...please, I just need one person to hold... without feeling afraid...please be on my side..."
Tears gathered at the corners of Solomon's eyes. When was the last time something has brought him to tears like this? He squeezed the hand you had placed in his.
You cried into his chest again tonight, silently this time. He already knew everything after all. But this time he held you tight, cooing reassurance in your ear, pressing urgent kisses on your head.
"You mean the world to me, MC. I will never hurt you. I don't need anything else...I just want you to be okay. I only want to protect you."
Your sobs were gentle now, softer, as you nuzzled deeper into his loving embrace. "Thank you...Thank you, Solomon."
"I love you, MC." The last thing he whispers just as you fall asleep, barely catching it.
You already knew more about him than anyone else. Noone quite fussed over his health and well-being as much as you. His immortality never made him less human to you. And for that he was eternally grateful.
Though the most of the humanity he vowed to protect didn't accept him - if it included you, he would happily die trying to protect it.
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alicerosejensen · 13 days
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I love your page so much omg. I‘m literally obsessed with your work😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
Also I have this imagination in my mind going on about how Leon would try to help his girlfriend from recovering from her mental health issues since she’s always helping him. I was recently thinking about how he would react finding her not moving on the bathroom floor and trying to bring her back! I rewatched American horror stories and the scene with tate and violet in the first season episode 6 (ig?) is always in my head. I‘m still recovering from my past and my unhealthy habits and tbh recovery never felt better.
If this is too much for you or triggering please ignore this.🫶🏼❤️
I had a terrible period in my life when I was a few steps away from doing something like this in my life and unfortunately this shit often comes out. I'm not sure that such texts help me work through my psychological traumas, which were, in fact, inflicted on me and continue to be inflicted by close people who do not consider me a person, but at least such works help me to vent my pain, which I cannot permanently bury in myself.
I have been postponing this request for a long time because I was probably waiting for the right moment to write this text.
There are mentions of suicide, psychological trauma, severe self-doubt and anxiety, so if this is not acceptable to you, then please just block it.
Perhaps there is a similarity with my previous texts, but I am writing this with strong emotions now that I am trying to cope with it again.
the text is chaotic, I repeat, written while I was under the influence of strong heavy emotions. Maybe I'll delete it later, when my brain gets back to normal a little bit.
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If a songbird doesn't sing well, they wring its neck.
Maybe it was the costs of Leon's profession and the result of his constant missions, after which something human is gradually dying in him despite the constant struggle to save everyone. Raccoon City was supposed to teach, if not to survive, then make him begin to understand that some are doomed to die.
Leon Kennedy was taught not to offend, but to protect the weak, especially weak women. But it is difficult to calm the flow of disordered thoughts and put aside the fear that has seized him in order to clamp bloody wrists and apply something to them to stop the blood. Leon knew many strong women: Ada was perhaps the first among them, he did not know either her past or her real name, only the present that pushed their foreheads against each other; Claire, a fighting friend of misfortune that he met in that ill-fated city; Ashley, who turned from a baby eagle into a proud eagle; Angela Miller and others…
Your strength dissolves in the water, coloring it scarlet while your heart stubbornly still beats, let the rhythm noticeably shorten.
In truth, over the past few months it became clear that this was the only way out. When even your loved ones considered you an expired product and did not hesitate to remember this and remind you every time. In the end, their words turned into an obsessive worm that settled in your head, slowly day after day, month after month, devouring you and the circumstances seemed to be not in your favor. Instead of support, you somehow faced reproach, as if the universe was screaming that you were an wrong person, nature's mistake who had no right to live.
Escape attempts were doomed to failure. At first you tried to suppress it in yourself, helping Leon, because, in your opinion, he was the only one who had the right to complain about life, although he did not do this in front of you, because everyone said that you had no problems: you have everything limbs, there are no fatal diseases, all loved ones are healthy and there is a roof over your head, as if this is enough to not fall for nonsense and not walk around forever with a sad face.
This was the last time you shared your experiences. You didn’t even bother telling Leon, but everything inside was torn from constant pain. The feeling was as if you were being beaten by two extremes that led you to the edge of an abyss where you ultimately voluntarily jumped.
no, you really loved him, it was just other people’s words and your own speculation that convinced you, despite your strong relationship with him, that Leon would find someone better, someone more confident in himself, someone who would not be you because you had already missed the chance for a good life because it moved too slowly. Ultimately, a couple of sips of alcohol with sleeping pills and a sharp blade in his hands simply promised to correct the mistake in the form of you with your own hands.
You didn't have the courage to do it any other way.
But you really didn’t think that if you could try to open up to your loved one, you would meet support and not condemnation. Perhaps in a mad world he would be the only one who would heal your wounds as you healed him in your time. Leon clenched his teeth, feeling tears flowing down cheeks, seeing these crimson stains, when he pulled your body out of the bath, holding you close to him, repeating “I’m holding you. It's allright"
He so carefully laid you on his lap, managing to pull out a first aid kit and then bandages to tightly, albeit carelessly, wrap them around your wrist in order to somehow stop the bleeding. At least you were still breathing, thereby giving him hope that everything could still be fixed. the darkness and emptiness came to life, calling in a whisper to dissolve into eternal silence where there is no pain or condemnation. Your body will be in a grave under a gray stone, while the remains of your soul will float like a small grain of sand in infinity.
For Leon, everything happens in a fog; he tried more than once to save people, but he had no right to lose in this battle, even if you yourself surrendered to death. Shaking his head, brushing away the tears, he wrapped your body in a large terry towel, kissed your temple and picked you up, trying to somehow warm you, pressing you closer to him. the ability to provide first aid in the field and pull suicides out of the other world is not the same thing. Leon would have thanked God if he had believed in him, convinced that blood loss was the least of the evils that you had caused yourself, until he saw the remains of some substance at the bottom of the glass that stood on the table along with an almost full bottle of alcohol.
You really didn't give him a chance.
The ambulance took several minutes, which seemed like an eternity. In fact, Leon wasn't sure if it was worth trying to make you vomit when you'd already lost so much blood that it was already seeping through the bandages. Surely you would need a transfusion and Leon is ready to give you all his blood if only you would wake up. Holding his breath, he carefully looked at your chest, watching whether you were breathing and fortunately, your heart was still beating, slowly, but it was still fighting for life.
He stroked you on the head, kissed you, promised that he would take you somewhere else, quiet, where no one would dare to offend you, even if it was your family. You could have just asked him for help, just cuddled up to him and he would have protected you from other people’s attacks, but you preferred to remain silent. Kennedy was tired of waiting for the medical staff to let him in, although relatives should be allowed to see the patient first, but the position of a government agent sometimes had its advantages, and they concerned not only the high salary. When he was let in to you, it seemed to him that you had become half your size while you were lying on the bed, curled up under the blanket. It didn’t work out to pull off a beautiful suicide, which meant that soon angry relatives would come here with new sweat of bile especially for you. They won’t care about your feelings, but Leon sat down next to you, trying not to intrude too much into the space in which you imprisoned yourself, as if this blanket cocoon could be a separate world where you could hide. He spoke to you carefully, hating himself for not being able to understand in time what was wrong with your behavior; perhaps if he had been more attentive to you, the incident could have been avoided. You would see a psychotherapist, take a course of medication, and your environment would definitely be taken care of.
You cry, not letting him come to you, hating how you weren't just left to die and how much you hate this world. Hysteria after hysteria, nervous breakdown after nervous breakdown, in the hospital you repeatedly tried to commit suicide, but the attentive staff managed to prevent this before you inflicted fatal injuries on yourself, and if after some time Leon still managed to carefully break through your armor, then your loved ones This did not concern relatives in principle. You only allowed one person to visit you while you were undergoing psychological treatment and you behaved calmer and calmer, listening to the velvety words that soon all this would be behind you.
“We’ll go home soon,” Leon smiled, gently holding your hand and kissing your forehead, just glad that you’re alive, that you’re breathing and that your psycho-emotional state is slowly but improving. “You know, I have a surprise for you, I think you’ll like it when we get home.”
Soon what happened will become another nightmare in his life, a blessing with a good ending, but for the sake of this happy ending, Kennedy is ready to descend into hell at least every day.
You nod at him and smile a little, fearing that the gift is some kind of party on the occasion of your discharge. In fact, the last thing you want is to see someone’s faces, especially those who diligently hammered into your head how insignificant you are. Why do you even hope that the doctor will postpone your discharge, but the plans for your further treatment were completely different.
On the other hand, after taking antidepressants and psychological help in a special medical institution, how many men are ready to stay with their girlfriends who have been there for several months? For Leon, it seems this was not a significant problem, or he simply carefully did not show it. However, there were no parties, no calls, you simply returned now to his home where there were new interior items. it became somehow more comfortable... but something else surprised you.
Puppy. A small puppy of a couple of months old ran towards you and Leon to meet both of them, but stopped and began sniffing your shoes, while something thawed in your heart.
“Animals seem to help us well, They feel when we feel bad, it seems to me a good idea to get us a little companion,” Leon said quietly, stroking your back while you were busy with the puppy, rejoicing at the little living soul who will love you with the same pure and devoted love.
Ultimately it should have a happy ending too. Leon is ready to go to great lengths so that his beloved songbird starts smiling and singing happy songs again, even if it is necessary to remove other birds from her family who sleep and see how to pluck all her wings again.
You and he also have a chance for a happy ending.
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