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#i'm the embodiment of “i can't even” right now
thedevillionaire · 18 days
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Anon-ing: yeah, I wanna echo several people here in saying that your writing is BLAZINGLY hot while also squarely hitting the Domestic Caretaking Buttons every time. In particular I love (LOVE) (LOOOOOOVE) that you have a fully fleshed-out universe with a cast of thousands in which it’s all situated, because that is SUCH CATNIP. I think you’d be surprised by how many of us are following your “vanilla” blog about this universe.
I also want to commend you for being such a lovely and perceptive cheerleader of other people’s writing. ROCK ON
😮💘OMG. Omg omg omg + some flailing. Ahh, anon, thank you so, SO much for this. For the wonderful compliments on my writing and its world , oh...I just... Ah, jeez. The Underworld is the fiction that ate my life, and I've got so mad at it (a lot) over the fucking so many years I've known it for (a) not allowing me to ever successfully/ lastingly come up with anything else, and (b) ALSO not being marketable in any real sense, a fair bit of which is to do with my personal inability to actually write a sensible, linear, full-length novel instead of The Constant Highlights Reel (Feat. Sneezing, Probably), and yet...and yet I also love the fuck out of it, and so in this stupid sexy vicious circle I remain. That anybody else reads it and enjoys it is incredible, and a genuine absolute. fucking. delight. And I gasped at the vanilla blog mention. Holy shit, really? Really? Ahh, ffs, I'm crying again.
THANK YOU. Above and beyond, thank you.
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sherlock-is-ace · 3 days
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#i was so happy today...#i got up so excited because it's sherlock & co day#because i get to listen to it while i work#when i finishe actual work i get to draw some cool fanart i'm planning#it was all so fucking great#and not even 3 hours later i'm sitting here with tears in my eyes and pain in my chest...#remind me to never discuss my mental health with my mother never fucking again#i forgot about her WONDERFUL take of ''everyone is a little bit autistic''#and her AMAZING ''people shouldn't give name to the way people is'' (aka sexuality and how the brain works (aka being gay or being autistic#it's insane to think i come from this woman#now her FANTASTIC take that autism and adhd are diseases or illnesses#i just want to die#how the fuck could i ever possibly talk to this woman about my feelings or thoughts when this is what i'm up against#and yeah sure you could say ''educate her'' i can't! Everything i say#based on fact or sience or research or anything gets met with ''well that's your opinion. my opinion is the opposite''#and i never get to drill it into her brain that her OPINION doesn't fucking matter when there are FACTS!#she's the embodiment of the ''that's my oPiNiOn'' vine#and i fucking hate it here!!!#and maybe its true that people who say ''we're all a little bit autistic'' is because they actually ARE autistic. maybe that's true#but i fear she'll never believe it the same way she doesn't fucking believe ME#i hate this#i want to fucking die and never have to speak to another human ever again#fuck working happily while listening to sherlock & co am i right?#angel talks#personal
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"Frequently Asked Questions About the Law of Assumption”:
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what is the law of assumption?
the law of assumption is a law where if you assume something and persist in it, it will harden into fact.
how to manifest?
1. decide what you want to manifest.
2. know that it's yours and that you already have it.
3. persist no matter what and ignore and dismiss the 3d.
can I manifest...?
yes and yes! everything is possible and there's no limit! you can manifest anything you imagine.
but what if I have hard circumstances?
circumstances DOESN'T FREAKING MATTER!! just know that you have it regardless of everything!
but what if I can't afford it? or it is too expensive for me?
DON'T SETTLE FOR LESS! imagination is a powerful tool, don't question “if or but”, you deserve everything and more! just fucking know that you already have it in your imagination.
but what if I have doubts or negative thoughts? will it affect my manifestation?
FUCKING NO!! it doesn't matter as long you already have your desires in your imagination so nothing matters, it won't affect or ruin your manifestation as long as you don't assume so.
what is 3d and 4d?
the 3D: is the outer world that we are currently living in, feeling it with our five senses, touching it, experiencing it.
the 4D: is your imagination, your mental world in your mind.
what is the wish fulfilled?
it is the state of knowing that you already have your desires so you don't look for the 3d for validation and you start living in the end.(read this and this and this)
what is self-concept?
self-concept is how you perceive yourself and the world around you, it is also a formation of beliefs, it also helps you with manifesting and putting yourself on a pedestal.(read this and this and this)
how do I fix my self-concept?
start off with clearing your doubt about manifestation first, secondly start embodying a person who is a master manifester, start acting like the queen you are, know your worth, and thirdly know that you are limitless and nothing is too big for you to manifest.
is manifesting superpowers and other illogical things possible?
FUCKING YES!! EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE AS LONG AS YOU CAN IMAGINE IT!!
can I manifest on a time crunch?
yes, you can, but I don’t recommend doing it because it will create a state of lack and you'll focus on time instead of fulfilling yourself in your imagination.
I'm overconsuming loa what do I do?
stop it, please, get off of Tumblr or any other social media, and start manifesting and applying the law however you want, you know the basics of loa? right then start FUCKING APPLYING AND STOP OVERCONSUMING SO MUCH INFO!! go fucking manifest YOUR DREAM LIFE!! MAKE A CHANGE!!
can I change a person's behavior around me?
yes! You can, first of all, decide how that person's gonna start acting around you. okay now start assuming and persist in the assumption until it hardens into fact and dismiss the 3d.
can I make my crush love me? even my celebrity crush?
yes, you can! it's very easy, first start off by assuming that Sp already does love you and that you are already in a relationship with him/her, live in the end, fulfill yourself in your imagination and persist in the assumption, and dismiss the 3d.
can I manifest many desires at the same time?
yes! You absolutely can, if you don't want to list them all one by one, just make a blanket affirmation or you can even say a random word with the intention it gonna manifest all your desires.
for example the word "cinnamon roll" = your list of desires.
what is revision?
"Revision" refers to changing a past event or action that has already occurred. However, it's important to remember that the past and future only exist in our minds. Therefore, it is possible to change anything from the past and you will manifest it the same way you would manifest your desires normally.(read this and this and this and this)
can you manifest for me, please? can you enter the void state for me, please🫸🏻🫷🏻😓?
FUCKING NO!!! DO IT YOURSELF!! NO ONE IS GOING TO DO IT FOR YOU!! START APPLYING INSTEAD AND BE DISCIPLINED!!
but I can't enter the void...I tried everything and every method and it didn't work!
ASSUMPTIONS MANIFEST!! GET THIS THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULLS!! personally, I realized that assumptions are what manifest because, after 2 years of trying to enter the void state, I woke up in it with JUST A FUCKING ASSUMPTION! NO METHOD!! NO MEDITATION !!NO FUCKING BULLSHIT!! THE METHOD IS NOT THE ONE THAT IS GOING TO HELP YOU ENTER THE VOID STATE BUT THE KEY IS YOU!! IS SELF!!
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dailyadventureprompts · 4 months
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Monsters Reimagined: Yeenoghu, Demon Lord of Insatiable Hunger
It's been some years since I did my overhaul on the lore of the gnolls and how they embody the weird de/humanization that goes on with various monsters over d&d's history. Ever since I've had more than a few folks write in asking about how I would handle the default Gnoll God Yeenoghu, who exists in a similar state of "Kill everything that ever existed" to Orcus and a good portion of the game's other late game threats, thematically flat and not really useful for building stories around.
For a while I've avoided doing this post because I thought it might skew a little too close to my personal philosophy, and risk going from simply being influenced by my views to an outright soapbox. I personally hold that despite being part of our nature hunger is the source of the majority of human cruelty, and if society and cooperation are the tools we developed to best fight against the threat of famine, it is fear of that famine that allows the powerful to control society and secure their positions of privilege.
I've also dealt with disordered eating in a prior period of my life, alternating between neglecting my body's needs and punishing myself for needing in the first place. I'm well acquainted with hunger and the hollowing effect it can have, though I'd never claim to know it so well as someone who went hungry by anything other than choice and self hatred.
Learning to love food again saved saved my life. The joy of eating, of feeling whole and nourished, yes, but there was also the joy of making: of experimenting, improving, providing, being connected to a great tradition of cultivation which has guided our entire species.
If I was going to talk about an evil god of hunger, I was going to have to touch on all of that, and now that it's out in the open I can continue with a more thematic and narrative discussion on the beast of butchery below the cut.
What's wrong: Going by the default lore, there's not much that really separates Yeenoghu from any other chaotic evil mega-boss. He wants to kill everything in vicious ways, and encourages his followers to do the same. He's there so that the evil clerics can have someone to pray to because the objectively good gods are on the party's side and wouldn't help a bunch of cannibalistic slavers.
This is boring, we've done this song and dance before, and the only reason that there are so many demon lords/evil gods/archdevils like this is because the bioessentialism baked into the older editions of the game's lore was also a theological essentialism, and that every group had to have their own gods which perfectly embodied their ethos and there was no crossover whatsoever, themes be damned.
Normally I'd do a whole section about "what can be salvaged" from an old concept, but we're scraping the bottom of the barrel right from the inset. Likewise my trick of combining multiple bits of underwritten d&d mythology to make a sturdier concept isn't going to work as most of d&d's other gods of hunger or famine are similar levels of paper thin.
How do we fix it: I want Yeenoghu to be the opposite of the path I found myself on, a hunger so great and so painful that it percludes happiness, cooperation, or even rational thought. Hunger not as a sumptuous hedonistic gluttony but a hollowing emptiness that compels violence and desperation. More than just psychopathic slaughter and gore, it is becalmed sailors drinking seawater to quench their thirst, the urban poor mixing sawdust and plaster into their food because their wages are not enough to afford grain.
This is where we get the idea of Yeenoghu as an enemy of society, not because violence is antithical to society ( I think we've learned by now how structured violence can really be) but because society fundamentally breaks down when it can't take care of the people who provide its foundations. Contrast the Beast of Butchery with one of my other favourite villainous famine spirits: Caracalla the grim trader, who embodies scarcity as a form of profit and control in to Yeenoghu's scarcity as suffering.
Into this we can also add the idea of the hungry dead, ghouls yes but also vampires, anything cursed with an eternal existence and appetites it no longer has the ability to sate. A large number of cultures across the world share the idea that the dead cannot rest while they are starving, which is why we leave offerings of food by their graves or pour out a glass to the ones we lost along the way.
On that topic, there's also a scrap of lore involving Doresain god of ghouls, who has been depicted as an on and off servant of Yeenoghu. Since I'm already remaking the mythology, I'd have Doresain act as a sort of saint or herald for the demon lord, the wicked but still partially reasonable entity who can villain monolog before the feral and all consuming demon god shows up.
Summing it all up: Yeenoghu isn't a demon you wittingly worship, it's a demon that claims you, marks you as its mouthpiece and through you seeks to consume more of the world. It gives you just enough strength to keep on living, keep on suffering, keep on filling that hole in your belly and feed it in turn.
The greatest of these mouthpieces is Doresain, an elf of ancient times who's unearthly hungers elevated him to demigod status. Known as the knawbone king, he dwells within a dread domain of the shadowfell, and is sought out only for his ability to intercede with the maw-fiend's rampages.
Signs: Unnaturally persistent hunger pangs, excessive drool and gurgling stomach noises, the growth of extra teeth in the mouth, stomachs splitting open into mouths.
Symbols: An animal with three jaws, a three tailed flail or spiked whip. A crown of knawed bones (Doresain)
Titles: Beast of butchery, the maw fiend, the knawing god
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jade-len · 5 months
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i think it'd be funny if someone transmigrated as xin mo. the goddamn evil sword. instead of taking it seriously, they just really fucked around with bingge. and, somehow, ended up having the opposite effect of what it's supposedly rumored to do.
picture this: bingge, on the quest for revenge and power, comes across the almighty xin mo. this demonic sword killed everyone that dared to even try wielding it. and, the few who were lucky enough to have it by their side, eventually succumbed to the swords' will.
it is said that the sword is unlike any other, that it etches into your head and eats away your brain, until eventually it consumes you whole. it whispers, speaking in lust, greed, and hatred. it slowly beckons the wielder into giving in to the worst part of themselves and feeds off of pure sin. but to him, it is no matter; luo bingge will surely tame it.
and then he gets to the sword.
demonic qi practically oozes from xin mo. the aura surrounding it makes every part of luo bingge scream, "run; get away, away from that monster." his gut prods at him, begging bingge that this is probably a really bad idea. it's a little terrifying, how even luo bingge, the determined, vengeful demon, is now getting second thoughts about wielding xin mo from just being in its presence alone.
but luo bingge is too, a monster. so he ignores the screams of plea; pushing every thought of doubt in the back of his head, and tightly grips onto the handle. the world around him seems to spin and shake, tumble and crack, from the amount of force bingge needs to use in order to pull the sword of sin out of its place.
when bingge finally has it perfectly fit into the palms of his calloused hands, he hears whispering. he knows that the sword has accepted him as its new host.
the sword's language crawls up to him, as if it were feeling around his body and mind. checking every nook and cranny for it to settle into bingge's form, truly becoming one with the embodiment of sin. the words flow through his brain like a tragically broken guqin, a melody that holds him in a frighteningly familiar trance - all while simultaneously eating away at his brain in the worst ways possible, akin to a child and their favorite snack. it seems to beckon something, but even with luo bingge's impressive hearing, he cannot make out any words from the tone-deaf musical notes xin mo sings.
and then, it is clear. the land around him settles, and everything is still. xin mo itself seems to be.. content. at least, that is what luo bingge believes.
the language of this wretched sword reflects the state around these two monsters.
luo bingge expects it to demand for bloodshed, for the erotic ecstasy of multiple women, for bingge to steal the last of the finest gems of these horrible, vast lands.
instead, he hears this:
"yoooo damn that shit was crazy. did you see what i did there? man, you know, it feels so fucking good to get out of the dirt. hey, do you know if people can like, feed their swords or something? i'm kinda craving something spicy. we never know, in this wack world! wait, don't hold me like that, buddy. it'll make things real awkward."
but luo bingge is determined to get his revenge, so he puts up with the swords' constant rambling about.. whatever the hell it's thinking.
"wait, dude, did you seriously fuck a dying girl? that's wild. yeah, like i know she was dying but it doesn't sound like you wanted it. yo, listen to me, consent is very sexy."
"HAHA hey, dude, sir, man. you wanna play some 'i spy'? we don't have anything else to do. no? too bad, we're playing it. i spy a loser who doesn't wanna play i spy. hint: he's holding me right now."
"okay i know i'm supposed to be this super evil sword and beg to be used - woah that sounded real wrong - but can you at least clean me when you're done killing shit? if you don't, i'm gonna refuse to respond to you and you'll look like a dumbass trying to wield me."
"i can't hear you lalalalalalala you're not being very it girl right now lallalalaalalalla-"
somehow, this is worse than if xin mo was actually eating away at his brain.
weirdly enough though, as luo bingge starts spending more time with this weird ass, seemingly possessed sword, it starts to become more of a.. comfort to have it by his side than pure annoyance. he finds himself responding to it more, like, actually having full on conversations with it. it puts him at ease, wielding xin mo. the hatred doesn't consume him, instead, it seems to soothe the burning rage (and, admittedly, just replace it with small irritation) that holds onto his darkened heart.
xin mo is actually quite kind and caring, for a sword that's supposed represent and be the literal embodiment of sin. sure, it is a hassle to have it cooperate with him sometimes, and it does just ramble on and on about the most random things ever, not giving a single shit if bingge was in the middle of sleeping with maidens and slaying those who get in his way. for the first time, bingge feels so comfortable around something.
it's.. odd. what was supposed to be the turning point in his life, a big step in his plan for revenge, is now something akin to an... acquaintance. not like mobei-jun, or any of the women he's come across, but an actual, dare he say, friend.
sometimes, he finds himself thinking all of this delusional. is this what people were driven mad by? perhaps they simply could not handle dealing with a talking sword. he understands that xin mo was undoubtedly unbearable to be around at the beginning of their alliance, but it has never actually beckoned for blood, power, and sex. if anything, it does the opposite.
maybe he's the delusional one. maybe this is xin mo's way of getting to him.
maybe, xin mo should be considered a thing. the thought feels terribly laughable, as if he were witnessing a person horribly explain themselves. it also makes his teeth grind together in pure agitation.
"hey, you know, you didn't deserve any of the things they did. it wasn't your fault, binghe. the fact that you're half heavenly demon doesn't make you a monster, or any of that wild stuff.. uh, i'm here for you, okay? i know you don't really like talking about all of this or opening up, but i just want you to know that you can.. talk about it. it's not like i can tell anyone else, anyways.
hey- shit i didn't mean to make you cry! wait, wait it's okay to cry! you need to let it out anyways, i promise it doesn't make you weak. there, there. i don't have any hands, so me patting you on the head with my handle will have to do. there, there.. everything will be alright, you'll be okay. i'll be here every step of the way, even if you want to get rid of me."
xin mo, the demonic sword, is more of a person - a good person - than anyone he'd ever come across.
...and then bingge and the xin mo transmigrator become besties or he falls for the damn sword. knowing him, he probably doesn't even know the difference between platonic and romantic attraction anyways. maybe bingge gets a plant body for xin mo using airplane's wack writing. idk i typed all of this down in one sitting.
(plot twist: it's not that the transmigrator xin mo had the opposite effect, it was literally just a placebo effect. luo bingge thought that, and thus it actually did help him lmao)
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jdeclerc · 6 months
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happy birthday, shadowsinger
pairing: azriel x reader
summary: it's the night before azriel's birthday and he can't help but want you all to himself, politeness and decorum be damned
author's note: i'm a self-proclaimed cassian girlie but az does something to me, i wanted my first fic featuring him to be a happy one...enjoy :)
warnings: smut
word count: 5,728
“Even you can’t slip out unnoticed during your own party, Azriel.”
Azriel can hear the smile in your voice from where he stands facing the kitchen window overlooking the ocean. He wordlessly sends his shadows away, commanding them to ensure the two of you are left alone.
“Who’s to say my plan was to go unnoticed?”
He turns, drinking in your form from where you stand in the kitchen’s doorway.
He had almost been brought to his knees when you exited your shared dressing room hours earlier. Azriel had gone with you too many times not to recognize the pieces you wear as being custom-made by your favourite designer in the rainbow.
The top is made of the most beautiful lace Azriel has every seen, a band of black underneath is the only solid piece. The neckline raises high enough to circle your throat, he had found himself picturing his hand replacing that particular part more times that he cares to admit.
The high-waisted black pants flow down your form like water over rock, two slits running up both sides until they stop near the tops of your thighs. Throughout the night his hands had used every opportunity to slip themselves beneath the fabric, your skin against his own being a feeling he will chase for eternity.
But it is the vision of you now that has him thinking himself the luckiest male in all of Prythian.
You had removed your shoes at some point throughout the night, the intricate style of your hair had been replaced by a beautifully messy knot at the top of your head, and your jewellery had been abandoned in various places, the only piece remaining being the band he had placed on your finger two centuries ago.
You embody everything he deems to mean home, to mean comfort and safety.
“What if my plan was this? To have you all to myself?”
The kitchen is empty save for the two of you, the only noise being the music filtering in from the sitting room.
“You have me Azriel…any way you wish, any time you desire, I am yours.”
He can’t help his smile as he extends his right hand out toward you, a silent invitation for you to approach.
“Dance with me?”
Your eyes don’t stray from his as you close the distance, your left hand meeting his right. He takes your right hand and places both around his neck. His arms come to circle your waist, drawing you in as close as he is able. His wings follow suit, framing the two of you where you stand.
Azriel begins slow movements as he rests his head atop where yours is tucked under his jaw, brushing his lips across your forehead. A song he recognizes as one from your mating ceremony begins playing in the other room. After a moment he begins singing for only you to hear.
Azriel has let only those in his immediate family hear him sing, them being the only fae in existence aware that the ‘singer’ portion of his title rings true. He has only sung for them a handful of times, usually only doing so when faerie wine has gotten the best of him.
It was the expression on your face after the first time you heard him sing that erased any fear he held about your reaction. From that moment he never once denied your requests to hear him sing. You know him too well to ask in front of the other members of the Inner Circle, asking him only in the sacred space of your shared home. He will never get used to the waves of love and adoration you send down the bond when he sings for you.
As the song ends, Azriel begins quietly humming along with the one that follows, pulling both of you further into a moment meant only for the two of you. Neither of you dare to break the cocoon of quiet that surrounds you, moments such as these happening not nearly often enough.
Azriel isn’t sure how much time passes before you break the silence.
“I’m sorry if the party is too much, Cas and Rhys insisted on a night of revelry and debauchery…a gathering, at our house, with just our family, was the best I could get them down to.”
Your voice comes out hushed, like speaking at a regular volume would break the spell of the moment.
“I’m not even sure I want to know what it took to change their minds.” Amusement laces Azriel’s response. “And for it to be on the night before my birthday rather than the day of? You must be a sorceress.”
“It wasn’t quite that dramatic…I simply began telling them how I plan for the two of us to not leave our bed on your birthday, and of all the things we would be getting up to. That seemed to lessen their resolve.”
You can feel Azriel’s hands tighten where they rest on your waist, his head lowering until you feel the brush if his lips against your ear.
“I imagine it would…care to let me in on the details of what you told them?”
“I only got to tell them that I would be too sore for training the following day and that my voice would be strained from screaming your name before they feigned retching and begged me to stop.”
Azriel’s laugh is impossibly deep, the tone causing an involuntary wave of desire to shoot from your end of the bond. The air almost instantly changes, the scents of your respective arousals twisting and twining in the air around you as your gazes lock.
Azriel’s hands move to the backs of your thighs, lifting you into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. He moves forward until he can set you down on the closest counter, positioning himself between you and the doorway leading out of the kitchen. His look is nothing short of predatory as he stares down at you.
His right hand comes to rest on your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His left moves from your waist and begins toying with the base of your top, the small, black buttons being the only thing that stands between him and your bare skin beneath his hands.
Your hands tighten their grip on either side of his neck as you bring your lips against the base of his ear.
“Damage even one button and I will cut you down…the Night Court will be in need of a new spymaster.”
Azriel leans far enough back to meet your eye and gives you a scandalized look in return. Despite his look his hands retreat to either side of your waist, his thumbs brushing beneath the hem of your top.
“So very violent…I would never dare to do such a thing, my love. Do you think so little of me?”
You respond with a raised eyebrow, both of you knowing his accounts list numerous trips throughout Velaris to replace the articles of clothing he had been too impatient to remove without ripping them.
“Shall I start counting how many pairs of undergarments I’ve lost to your impatience?” You stare up at him through your lashes, choosing your next words knowing exactly what they would do to your mate.
“Or is there something else you’d prefer my mouth to be doing?”
“Fuck me.” He says it so low that you know he’s saying it more to himself then you. His hunger is evident in the way he searches your eyes.
Azriel’s grip tightens around your waist. He moves forward spreading your thighs further to accommodate his form towering over your own.
Wordlessly you begin undoing the buttons of his shirt, reaching halfway before running your hands over his chest. You trace his tattoos, taking in and appreciating the beauty of your mate. You can feel him tense under your touch as your hands move under the collar of his shirt, stopping at the base of his neck to toy with the hair that had grown longer than normal after his last mission.
You look up at him through your lashes and it’s as though his world stops.
Nothing exists outside of this moment for Azriel as his lips meet yours. His right hand moves to the base of your neck, tightening his grip to tilt your head back, allowing him the angle he needs to devour you.
The kiss is the exact opposite of his outward, quiet demeanor. It’s demanding, he is a male with a singular focus, a hunger that only you can satiate. His hands move to your thighs, holding them with a bruising grip as he pulls them higher and tighter around his waist. Every part of him meeting every part of you.
It’s when you reach and beginning running your hand along the length of him over his pants that he pulls back, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth as he does. He rests his forehead against yours, both of your breaths laboured.
“Here or our bedroom?”
“Wha –”
“I plan to be inside you before the clock strikes midnight Y/N.” Azriel’s tone is severe, determination lacing every word. “It can be here, with our family in the next room, or I can spread you out beneath me as you grip the satin of our sheets…tell me where and tell me quickly.”
A mischievous grin spreads across your lips before you respond, and it takes everything in Azriel not to capture your lips with his once more. Your words come out as a whisper.
“Your birthday, your choice.”
Azriel emits a low groan at your words. With a practised ease he lifts you from the counter, keeping your body tucked close to his. He turns and carries you through the doorway of the kitchen, toward the stairs leading to the second floor of your shared home.
Only Amren notices the two of you as you pass by the sitting room. She gives Azriel a knowing smile and it’s the slight bow of her head that tells him she won’t alert the rest of the Inner Circle to your joined absence.
As he reaches the second floor, he carries you through the double doors that sit directly opposite the stairs. He removes a single hand from you only long enough to close both doors, sealing the two of you away from the world once more.
It takes you no more than a moment to know where your mate has taken you.
“The library? Interesting choice.” Amusement is mixed into your loving tone.
“My birthday, my choice, remember?” He moves forward, your back meeting the closest bookshelf. “I bolted these shelves to the floor for a reason, my love.”
Your eyes widen, your mate having left that particular piece of information out when explaining to you how he planned to make changes to the library when the two of you had moved in.
“Azriel…you did not!”
“Oh, but I did, my dear. Do you not remember what happened the first day we moved into this house?”
You both can’t help laughing at the memory. What started as a simple kiss ended with the two of you surrounded by a broken shelf and books scattered every which way. It had been your favourite room in the house ever since.
The library holds such peace and tranquility for both of you. Your respective offices both have doors leading into the room. Azriel can’t count how many nights you both have fallen asleep in front of the fireplace, still holding your books. He also can’t count the number of heated moments that passed between you within the walls of this room, your books, in particular, being the starting point to more than a few of those moments.
Azriel lowers you to the floor and takes your hips in his hands, turning you around. He moves both your hands to rest on the shelf just above your head.
“Keep them there.” His tone leaves no room for discussion or argument.
His hands move to either side your neck, his thumbs brushing the base of your jaw before moving to the first of the buttons that rest there. He undoes each one with painful precision, your arousal growing with each that comes loose.
It seems as though an eternity has passed before the last button comes free. He lowers your hands and pushes the top past your shoulders and down your arms. He sets the top on the empty portion of shelf behind him. As he turns back to face you, he moves your hands to rest on the shelf once more.
He presses a kiss to your left shoulder, leaving a path of searing skin in his wake as he settles his lips at the base of your ear. His fingertips brush across your skin from your hips until both hands come to rest beneath your breasts.
The tightening of your grip where it rests and the shiver that runs through you as he brushes his scarred thumbs across your nipples doesn’t go unnoticed by the spymaster. The cool air of the empty room has formed them into sensitive peaks, and he relishes in the stuttering breaths you let out as he continues the movements of his thumbs.
Azriel’s right hand comes to rest between your breasts as his left moves down your stomach, stopping just short of where he knows you want his hands most.
“Az…”
Your words come out weak, pleading.
His hand undoes the buttons of your pants with expert precision. You can’t help the whimper that escapes as both of his hands leave your body to slide the garment down your legs. He repeats his earlier actions, your pants now resting with your top.
Azriel’s hands find their place once more as he presses your bare form into his fully clothed one, the friction causing another shiver to rake over your body.
His left hand continues its previous path downward until his fingers brush against the most sensitive part of you. It’s his turn to let out an involuntary groan at what his hand is met with.
“So wet for me already Y/N. I’ve barely touched you…are you that desperate for me?”
Rather than give him a response, your body does its best to grind against his hand, searching for some form of friction. His right hand tightens where it rests on your sternum, halting your movements.
“You’ll have to do better than that Y/N. Use your words…tell me exactly what you need.”
His lips are pressed to your ear, his voice so deep it is the accelerant to the fire raging within you.
It takes a moment for you to respond, your words coming out broken.
“I need you…I need you inside me, Az. Now.”
Your words pull him from the haze of his arousal. Very rarely do the two of you move forward without some form of preparation to make the experience more enjoyable for you. Azriel isn’t ignorant to his size, he is acutely aware of the discomfort he has unintentionally caused you in the past. Very rarely does your need outweigh the pain you feel as you adjust to him.
“Be sure Y/N. Please.” His words are desperate, the need to have your intention clear necessary for him to move forward.
You turn in his grip, bringing your hands to rest on his chest as you meet his eye. Your left hand raises to rest against his jaw, your next words giving him the reassurance you know he needs.
“I’m sure Az…I want every inch you have to give me.”
Your hands become desperate, reaching to undo the buttons beneath each of his wings. Azriel can’t help but let out a low laugh as you struggle to pull his shirt from his body. He grasps your wrists and places them on his waist before reaching overhead and pulling the garment off himself. He tosses it to the side, all the care he showed your clothes has been thrown into the Sidra.
He looks down and watches as you pull his zipper down, his breath hitching as you sink to your knees before him, the sight never failing to bring out his base desires. He steps out of his pants when they reach his ankles. His hands move to cover yours where they grip at his thighs when they start to move.
“You’re not the only one that needs me inside you, Y/N.” His voice is gravel, almost pained as he pulls you to stand once more. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth in the beginning of a pout.
“It’s your birthday Az, this is about you.”
His hands encase either side of your neck with a firm grip, ensuring you hear every word he has to say.
“If it’s about me then it’s about you.” His voice goes impossibly deep with his next words. “You should know by now that nothing gets me off quite like the sounds you make as you cum around my cock.”
He says nothing more before he captures your lips with his own and lifts you into his arms. He parts from you just long enough to brush his cock through your folds, lining himself up. You both let out a low groan as he pushes into you, your head falling back against the bookshelf and his coming to rest against your chest.
Azriel doesn’t dare move, savouring the moment. Your hands brush back the hair that has fallen over his forehead, tilting his face up to meet yours. You both refuse to break the eye contact as he draws his hips back and moves them forward once more, working himself deeper.
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, and he can see your eyes begin to water as he bottoms out inside you. His heart breaks at the sight, but you don’t give him a single second to fall into self-deprecation as you pull his lips to meet yours.
The kiss is different than the last, it’s fueled by care and adoration. A love so deep neither of you can quite comprehend it most days.
Azriel tucks his head against your neck as you tighten your arms around his shoulders, his lips paying special attention to the spot just beneath your ear that has you clutching him, your nails surely leaving marks.
His first movements are slow, measured. He plays you like a song that he has practiced his entire life, knowing just what you need. It’s when you bring your forehead to rest against his that he knows you need more, knows you want him to give you everything he can.
His pace becomes burning, pulling sounds from you that would have him offering up whatever he needed in order to hear them just one more time.
“That’s it Y/N/N.” He pulls out to the tip before beginning to push back in, painfully slow. His pace quickening again as he snaps his hips into yours. “I want to hear you take every inch like the good girl that you are.”
It’s his words that send you barreling into an orgasm that has you seeing stars. His right hand moves to circle your clit, causing you to cry out as he carries you through your release. Your left hand grips his forearm, attempting and failing to halt his movements.
“Az, please…”
Your words are more desperate than he knows you wish them to be. Azriel gradually slows his movements, and he can feel your body coming back from the over-stimulation. He doesn’t give you time to fully recover as he moves to lay you down on the couch that is centred in front of the dormant fireplace.
Azriel takes a moment to admire the sinful beauty of you beneath him, it’s a sight that he commits to memory each time he is graced by it.
Your hands grip his biceps as he lowers himself to hover above you, his arms resting on either side of your head. His lips meet yours in a kiss that is nothing short of devastating. He pushes every bit of need he has for you down the bond, ensuring you know he is worshipping before his chosen altar.
He hooks his left arm under your knee, raising your leg and pushing himself even deeper inside you. He relishes in the expression that passes over your features at the new angle. Your body is pliant under his, ready to take whatever he gives you.
Azriel doesn’t have many words to say but he wishes he could give every last one to you in this moment.  Wishes he could find the words to properly describe the effect you have on him, his feelings so consuming it terrifies him.
A squeeze on his forearm pulls him from his thoughts, he glances up to meet your questioning expression.
“Care to tell me what has that beautiful mind of yours thinking so hard?” Your words are gentle, barely coming out above a whisper.
Azriel brushes his thumb along your jaw.
“Nothing you don’t already know.” He smiles to himself. “Just that I am hopelessly, endlessly, devastatingly in love with you.”
“Keep talking like that, Shadowsinger and I won’t even need you to move. Your voice is all I need.”
“Then maybe I shouldn’t be doing this.” He pulls out to the tip and pushes back in, hitting every last spot that has you clenching around him and arching your chest into his. “Or this.” He leans down, closing his mouth on your pulse point, leaving his mark on you. “And I really shouldn’t be doing this either.” His mouth resumes its position, and his fingers start moving over your clit in the way only he knows how.
“But we both know it doesn’t matter what I do when I’m the only that can have you like this, the only one that can give you what we both know you’d beg for.” His fingers stop their movements, leaving you to clench around him, wordlessly begging for him to do something, anything. The sound that comes from you at the loss is nothing short of primal, so involuntary Azriel can’t stop the pride that washes over him.  
He starts moving again, varying his pace until he finds the one that has your head falling back onto the couch and the nails of your left hand digging into his back, just below where his wing meets his skin. Azriel can’t help the moan that leaves him, the scrape of your nails only heightening the euphoria beginning to consume him.
Your right hand blindly grabs for the hand he has anchored next to your head. He interlaces his fingers with your own, your knuckles turning white with the force of your grip, desperate to maintain your hold on him.
“Fuck, Az…don’t stop.” He can barely hear the words as you choke them out, each sounding more strained than the last. “Plea...please.”
You’re close; he can hear it in your breathing and feels it in the way your body tenses, as though you’re a rope about to snap.
He doesn’t let up in his pace, even though he can feel himself barreling toward his own release. Azriel is determined to hold out long enough for you to fall over the edge first.
“Such good manners.” Azriel grips the back of you neck with his right hand, forcing your eyes to open and meet his. The expression across his face has you letting out a whimper, the fire in his eyes unmistakeable. “But what did I say about telling me exactly what you want Y/N? Use your words.”
He can see you struggle to form the words, so lost in your pleasure it takes more than one try for them to cross your lips.
“Please, Az, I want to…need to cum on your cock.”
Your words break the last of his resolve. His hand moves from your neck to resume its movements on your clit, moving against it slowly, in such stark contrast to the burning pace set by his hips.
The dual sensations have you crying out and Azriel responds in turn, with a needy groan falling from his own lips.
He leans down and places his lips against your ear, his voice sinful as he whispers the exact words you need.
“Then do that for me, love…cum for me.” His fingers quickening their pace only slightly.
That all it takes for your vision to flash white, your orgasm ripping through you with such delicious ferocity. You can’t help the trembling of your thighs as Azriel’s pace doesn’t slow, drawing sounds from you that only he’s ever been able to do.
His release quickly follows your own as he bites down on your neck, pushing his hips harshly into yours as he cums. You can feel him tremble under your touch as you cling to him, the reaction a direct contrast to the deep moans coming from him.
Azriel’s thrusts slow, anchoring you both as you come down from your respective highs. The sound of your combined releases nearly sending you into a third orgasm.
Azriel isn’t sure how long it takes for your respective breaths to even out. All he knows as he stares down at the look of pure bliss on your face is that he will never get used to this, will never stop wanting to be the one that gets to see you like this.
He waits a few more moments before slowly pulling out of you, a small gasp leaving your lips at the loss. Azriel rests his head on your chest, giving himself a moment to truly come down from his high.
Your hand brushes the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead, a truly contented smile forming as he lifts his head and closes his eyes with the movement of your hand.
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments before the clock that sits on the fireplace mantel gives out an almost silent chime.
“It’s midnight…Happy Birthday Azriel.” You whisper the words, sending every bit of love you can down the bond. “Hopefully you’re not disappointed with how your day is beginning.”
He leans down to kiss you rather than respond, exploring your mouth with slow precision. When he breaks it his forehead rests against your own.
“When I say this is better than anything I could dream, please believe every word. I thank the cauldron every day for gifting me with you as a mate.” You can tell his next words are said to himself as his eyes search your face. “I will never deserve you.”
“You wish for me to believe your words…believe mine in return.” Your hands grasp either side of his face. “You deserve everything you have, my love. The life you have built, your family, me, all of it.”
He lets out a low hum of acknowledgment, leaning down to kiss you. It’s slow, patient – allowing the both of you to bask in the feeling of each other.
You break from the kiss suddenly, unable to stifle the yawn you let out.
“You’re tired Y/N.”
“No, I’m here, I’m –” Another yawn interrupts your words.
Azriel lets out a low chuckle, shifting so he rests on his side facing you. His wings relax over the edge of the couch, and he allows them to brush the ground rather than devote the concentration to keeping them raised. He reaches over you and pulls the blanket folded over the back of the couch to cover your entwined bodies.
He wraps his arms around your waist and rests your head against his chest.
“Sleep Y/N, you’ll need rest if you’d like us to live out the day you scarred Rhys and Cas with as you described it.”
You smile and let out an amused hum as your eyes begin to close.
“It would be a perfect day, Cas and Rhys be damned.” The words come out in a whisper, and it doesn’t take long for Azriel to hear your breathing leveling out.
He waits long enough to ensure you’re truly asleep before gently untangling himself from you. He looks down as he stands and finds his shadows have returned. They skirt around the bottom of the couch, holding true to their need to keep you safe at every turn.
He silently thanks them, only now realizing just how long your shared family had gone without interrupting the two of you.
Azriel crosses the short space to the bookshelves, retrieving his pants and pulling them on, not bothering to button them as he knows they’ll be on his bedroom floor in a matter of minutes.
He faces the couch once more and pulls the blanket tighter around your form before lifting you into his arms. Even in sleep, you burrow further into his hold, tucking your head tight to his chest.
Azriel can’t help the smile plastered to his lips as he exits the library, vowing to himself that the two of you would be back in this room later in the day, continuing this evening’s activities.
---------
“Where did they go Rhysie?”
Rhysand can hear the pout in Cassian’s voice as he asks the question.
“They didn’t leave the house so I’m sure they haven’t gone far Cas. Don’t worry, we’ll find them.”
He tightens his grip on Cassian’s arm as his massive form sways during their ascent up the stairs.
“We better, they’re too important to me to lose.” His eyes are taking on a glossy glint as he continues. “What if something terrible’s happened?! I’ll kill anyone who dares lay a hand on them!”
It’s in that moment that Rhysand thanks the Mother he insisted they all come unarmed tonight. A drunk Cassian is one matter…an armed drunk Cassian could end in catastrophe.
Rhysand can hear a slight shift from down the hall as they finally reach the top of the stairs. He looks ahead and spots two of the few fae who permanently reside within his heart.
Cassian moves before Rhysand can pull him back. His massive form taking the most ungraceful of steps to reach his friends.
“Thank the gods you’re okay!” Azriel quickly hushes the General, his tone having crossed from its previous whisper to the beginning of his normally boisterous, energetic tone. “I was so afraid something terrible had happened when neither of you came back!”
Azriel eyes dart to Rhysand’s, his eyebrows raising in question. Rhysand shrugs in response, slipping into Azriel’s mind after he lowers his shields.
“He refused to leave until he laid eyes on the two of you, his concern so great he turned down every reassurance I tried to give him.”
“Just how much did he drink?” Azriel’s amusement is evident, no anger imposes on his tone.
“Please don’t make me answer that, he winnowed to the wine cellar before I could stop him. Feyre’s in similar shape but Amren was able to get her home, I clearly haven’t had such luck.”
Azriel nods at his High Lord in understanding and turns his attention to Cas once more.
The stretch of silence has given the General an opportunity to move even closer to the two, his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he looks down at Y/N.
“She’s not hurt Cas, she simply sleeps. You wouldn’t want to wake her, would you?”
Cassian shakes his head.
“Can you do me a favour, brother?” Cassian nods in response.
Rhysand can see from where he stands that the expression Cassian gives Azriel is nothing short of one filled with utter love.
“Y/N had a headache earlier today and she misplaced the tonic Majda gave her in the House of Wind after our meeting. Can I trust you to find it for her? It would make her so happy to have it back.”
“For Y/N? Consider it done, brother.” Cassian’s tone is as serious as it is when he walks into battle. The two of you had been close since the moment you met, the General declaring himself your protector.
He stares at Azriel for a moment longer before taking his face in his hands and kissing both of his cheeks. And it’s as he leans down to give Y/N the same treatment that Rhysand finally takes in the scene before him.
He observes Azriel’s half-clothed state and his quick adjustment to the blanket covering you, pulling your body in closer to his own.
Rhys realizes just what he and Cassian have interrupted and curses his less than sober state for not realizing earlier the most obvious reason two mates would slip away at one of their respective birthday celebrations.
“Cas, let’s go find that tonic. We wouldn’t want Y/N to wait any longer than she has to.” Rhysand crosses the short distance and moves to turn Cassina away from the mated pair.
Azriel shoots him a grateful look, his thanks clearly evident.
Cassian allows Rhys to lead him away but abruptly turns back just as they move to descend the stairs.
“Azriel?”
“Yeah, Cas?”
“Tell Y/N Happy Birthday from me when she wakes up, I want to be the first one to say it.” His smile is beaming at the thought.
“The second she wakes, she will know.” Azriel’s words are filled with amusement, letting out a low laugh at the General’s words.
Cassian gives him a triumphant smile, turning back toward the stairs without another word.
Rhysand gives Azriel one last apologetic look before leading the General down the stairs and past the wards that guard the home.
“Y/N must’ve gotten hot before she fell asleep.”
Cassian’s words have Rhysand pausing.
“What makes you say that, Cas?”
The General’s words fall to a whisper, as though somebody may be listening.
“She didn’t have any clothes on under that blanket. She was in front of a fire and got too warm, Azriel didn’t want us to see so he put the blanket on her, I’m certain of it.”
He speaks like he’s privy to confidential information and has finally chosen to let Rhysand in on it.
Rhysand grips his brother’s arm, giving him an endearing smile as he begins to winnow them to the House of Wind. Cassian’s face conveying unending pride at Rhys' reply.
“You must be right Cas…there’s absolutely no other possible explanation.”
616 notes · View notes
tan1shere · 6 months
Text
Slumber Party pt 2
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A/n: think I've sorted it ! Yayy so if you would like a part 3 let me know ;) (repost)
Summary: like the song slumber party. Ellie thinks she can treat you better then your shitty girlfriend
Warnings: heavy smut, cunnilingus, Dom but soft Ellie (in a way???), riding, touching, alcohol, mentions of smoking, strap usage, pet names. If there's anything else I missed, pls lmk !!
Pt 1 here ! ~ pt 3 here!
It had been a few weeks from the last incident. Everything was pretty normal (for your living) Isabel would occasionally scold you for this or that but never yelled since that one time. You were happy about that as it always made you feel so empty inside like someone had grabbed your chest, yanked your heart and stomped on it. Even if you didn't necessarily love Isabel anymore the situation was hard. You knew you could go to Ellie, but that left you with that weak feeling again. Like you couldn't fend for yourself. You refused to reach out for help until it got to the point where it was bad. Incredibly bad. And that was today. A day before Isabel was suppose to go away to New York. You were cleaning, cooking meals.
You even packed her bag for her while she was at work. Like you had been asked to do. You were always like this growing up. The relationship didn't change you. You always go by the rules and making people happy. If you didn't you felt empty. You felt like you failed them. "I'm home." She calls out sounding tense, dropping her bangs down in an angry manner, but you didn't hear her as you were in the shower. She looks around to see some food. Ones she would take with her and the dinner for that night. She noticed something she didn't request on the list. First mistake of the night. She came into the bedroom to look for you finding her suitcase. She looked at it done differently to how she usually does it. You come out of the bathroom wrapped in your towel. "God you're pathetic. Can't follow simple instructions. Can you!"
You stand there shocked. "I've had a shit day to come home to more. Shit." "Iz-" She strides closer looking furious. "You are so fucking useless." She spat with fury. Raising her hand landing a slap to your face. You quickly put your hand over it before your gasping, widening your eyes, as she wraps her hand round your neck. "You will get changed. Do the meals I ask, and pack my suitcase the way I want. Got it." You nod desperate to get some air into your lungs. Relieved when she finally let's go. You let out a few coughs, watching as she walks out of your bedroom.
You start to bawl your eyes out as you try to calm down, when you get a call from Ellie but you're too scared right now to even answer. Getting dressed and trying to regain your composure as you start on your bag. Now, this was very unlike you to ignore her calls, and especially not say anything on why, soon after. She starts blowing up your phone panicking. You haven't told ellie about the abusiveness. But she's had a bad feeling for awhile now that she may hurt you. You go to look at your phone for a quick second.
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"Oh no you don't." You see Isabel coming over to you, snatching your phone. "Hey!" She does the unspeakable and smashes it on the floor. "No!" You look down at it then at her. "What did I say?" You stand there out of pure shock. "Answer me damn it." You look back at her. "I- I was about to-" She stares at you, about to turn away when you think of Ellie and how strong she is. Embody her Y/n. Do it. "No." You whisper slightly, but she hears. "What was that?" You keep looking at her. "If you don't like it you should've done it yourself cuz I've been working all day on i-" She storms towards you nearly knocking you off your feet with a punch to the face. Inaudible.
You feel frozen, stunned. Like everything has stilled, you start to hear a ringing in your ear at the impact. "Dont EVER speak to me like that again. Do you hear me?" Tears flow like a streaming river. "Do you fucking hear me." Blood can be felt dripping. "Y-yes.. sorry." You try and gain balance but feel incredibly light headed. "I'm sick of this." She says, heading for the front door, she is met with an angry and concerned looking Ellie. "Do whatever the fuck you want I don't give a shit anymore." She screams as she leaves for the car. Ellie knits her eyebrows together as she watches her leave. She walks in the house, beginning to hear sobs, she sprints into the bedroom to be met with you on the floor, blood dripping down your nose, it smeared on your hands as you try desperately to stop it from flowing even more. "Shit, fuck."
Ellie curses as she comes closer to you, kneeling on the ground. "I- I yelled at her and it- I got-" You try explaining. "Shh sh. Tell me later ok?" You just gently nod as she tries to get you on the bed, on a more comfortable surface. "Don't panic, I'm just going to get some towels and such, I'll be right back." You nod yet again. Trying to focus on her. Her words. She comes back not long after with the supplies she will need. "Hold this to your nose and tilt your head back a bit, can you do that for me?" Again, you nod, doing exactly as she says. She sighs. "I had a feeling she was like this. Why didn't you try to tell me?"
She softens her look. Her voice. "I was afraid she'd find out and do worse.. I'm sorry." She shakes her head. "Never be sorry for something that isn't your fault." Once she's done she looks at you, looking at the bruises on your face. "I'm sorry she did this to you angel, I really am." You look down at your hands. Not sure how to speak right now. But she knows that. She goes closer to you bringing you in for a hug. You sink into it. Into her touch. You missed being held like this. It felt special, especially when she was the one hugging you.
You woke up the next morning to Ellie being gone. You were saddened but you look to your side to see a note. 'When she leaves tomorrow I'm coming to pick you up. You don't need to be there, there's no point.' It was obviously Ellie who wrote it you can tell by her messy handwriting. You look at the clock that was on the wall reading the time. It was right when Isabel was suppose to be leaving. You had slept for a few hours. You touch your nose remembering the events of yesterday, feeling it had dried but still sore. Suddenly you hear the front door being opened and a suitcase being dragged on the hardwood floor. Getting up to go see her leaving. "I'll be back in a week." She says coldly. You nod gently, watching as she leaves. Once you know she has you let out a deep sigh, looking around the room, going to the fridge as you were hungry. Scavenging for something tasty you settle on a
cheese stick. Simple but enough for you. That sentiment reminded you of Ellie a little bit. She was very simple, the way she lived her life. But enough for you. She was perfect. You shake your head out of those thoughts like you always do but a tiny bit linger. It was no lie how she would make you feel, whenever she would talk about space, art, dinosaurs. Your heart would flutter. You loved listening to her pretty voice talk about her interests. It inspires you to dive into your passion. But that'd never become reality. Just a simple dream. You wanted to be a designer. Whether it was clothes. Furniture. You loved making everything tidy, and pretty. In an order that was well planned out. It was your little thing. And the only person who knew of this dream was Ellie. She'd tell you to chase after it, but with how you lived, there was no chance of that ever happening. So you like to daydream about it. You walk over to the couch sitting down, only for a split second when you hear a car pull up outside. You listen. It was Ellies car. It was old but she loved it. Which made you love it. You finish your cheesey goodness before grabbing your shoes and heading out to the car, you smile as she notices you. To which she returns that smile. "Hey you. Sleep alright?" You give her a small shrug. "It was alright. The pain wasn't subsiding at all though." You let out a breath through your nose at the thought, whincing as the cold air makes it sting a bit.
"We will just have to take it easy. I still think you should consider my offer-" You immediately shake your head. "Its fine, maybe this trip will do her good." You state. "Or make her more agitated." Ellie mumbles. You hear her clearly. "But we aren't worrying about that we are having a fun filled week. I have a new drawing to show you. I went down to the beach and sat in my car, I saw these seagulls fight over a burger bun. Quite entertaining if you ask me." That makes you let out a soft giggle. "Can't wait to see how you drew that." She smiles at your giggle. "You're gunna love it!"
Once you arrived at Ellies home you take a breath in. It always smelt earthy, in the best way possible. "You can take my bed-" She began but you cut her off. "I'm staying here?" She nods. "While she's away, I'd hate for you to be alone." You look around for a second. "You really want me here?" You look at her. "Why wouldn't I?" She laughs slightly at your question. You nod, going over to the couch. "But please, I can take the couch, this is your place after all!" She simply shakes her head. "I want you to be comfortable." "But I am Els. I'm always comfortable when I'm here." She takes a moment to look at you, then remembers. "Ahah! Almost forgot to show you the amazingness." She stands up fully, going over to her art room and coming back with her sketch book. You wait in anticipation to see this drawing. She opens it out so you can see it. "Tada!" She speaks in triumphant. You smile wide as you observe the sketch of the seagulls. "I adore it Els!" She then goes to turn the page, you guessed to show something else but she realizes what it was soon after. It was a sketch of you. "Oh fuck, that's not important but, the seagulls were going crazy over that burger patty, I started cracking up laughing-" You can't help but think of the drawing of you. "You've drawn me before?" You look at her, puzzled but interested. "It was just-" She sighs.
"You were just sitting there, you looked so peaceful. I guess you inspired me.. you inspire me alot actually." She goes to flip the page again showing you more. "I never wanted to say anything in case you thought it was creepy or something." You have known Ellie for how long and she's still thinking like this? "Els. I'm so flattered. I could never be creeped out. If anything I'm honored to inspire your art." She smiles at you. "Well I'm glad because I'd really like to do more. Ones where you're actually looking at me. I tried to do already existing photos but it didn't feel right. Wasn't in the moment." She states. You love how beautifully she would always words such things. It made your heart swell. Was that wrong? You were with someone already. Not a very nice someone, but thats besides the point. Not to mention Ellie was your best friend. You shouldn't ruin that as she's the only true person in your life right now. You gotta push these feelings aside. "So what happens in a day to day life of the Ellie Williams?" She smiles at your words, plopping on the couch and leaning back into the cushions. "Well nothing that exciting. I mean I can do whatever I please whenever I please. Usually I'll wake up late, maybe have something to eat. Watch TV. Just boring stuff. Maybe have a small time to smoke but that's about it."
You nod as you listen. That's one of the things she loved about you. How you'd listen. Especially when she'd say something stupid (Only she would think that) You would just give a gentle smile and nod, signaling that you were taking in everything she said. "Why don't you draw me now?" She looks at you. "Yeah?" You nod. "Alright then." She stands, heading to her art room to get some stuff. "Here wear these." She hands you some petite round glasses, with a thin black rim. "You have props?" "Why ofcourse I do." You smile at her and put them on. They had no lense so you could see just fine. You look at her waiting for what she wanted you to do. She looks at you thinking. "I want you to hold this book. Put your legs up and rest them on your knees. Then." She ponders some more. She goes to ruffle your hair a bit. "Els!" She shh's you. "Let me do ma thang." She moves a bit of your hair over your face having one of your beautiful eyes poking out with the glasses. "And perfect. Not that I needed to do much."
She smiles. You feel heat rise to your cheeks. She always talks to you like this, why are you now reacting? She begins to sketch, while you sit there looking at her. Admiring how concentrated she was. She would occasionally chew on her lip as she looked at the page, even sticking a bit of her tongue out while biting it. You saw the way her features lit up as she looks at you. You were infact. Falling inlove with Ellie. And you don't think there was any way of stopping it.
It was a few days later, you were in the kitchen making food for the both of you as she then walks in the room. "Woah there whatcha doin?" You turn around to look at her. "Just making breakfast." You smile wide at her. She chuckles. "Uh uh. You aren't in that hel lhole no more, you don't need to be doing that. We can just order something. Relax for once." She flops on the couch. And for once you decide to do so going over to her and sitting by her. "I was thinking of inviting my friend over tonight, you remember Dina right? She will possibly bring her boyfriend but I just wanted to see what you thought about it." You look at her. "Sooo like a small party?" She thinks of a response. "I guess so, but it'll just be the 4 of us, I would really like if you got to know them, they will really like you I promise!" She smiles at you. "Sounds fun to me." You return the smile.
Things had been going good. You were all laughing, enjoying yourselves. You were into your third drink now. Just honestly glad you decided to. "I was really missing out!" You take another sip but Ellie takes it and sets it down. "Slow down angel- you don't want to rush into it." You just giggle, making her smile at your slightly tipsy state. "Remember old times in school. We would always play truth or dare, or. What are the odds!" Dina explains. "Oh no, I know where this is going. 'Let's play it'." Ellie mocks her voice. "Well duh, lets do it!" Ellie shakes her head laughing. "What are we 12?" Dina nods. "Yes. Yes I am. Right who's starting?" At school you'd never get invited to parties. (Is it obvious?) Even if you did, you'd never attend one. It wasn't your thing. So you never had played nor known much about these games. "Y/n. Truth or dare?"
So when Dina asked you, you decided to go for the safest option. As you had seen on TV in random romances. "Truth." You smile softly. "Have you ever had a three way?" She smirks. "Dina she probably doesn't know what that is." You think back to all the things Ellie has told you about but you never once heard her utter those terms. "I haven't no." You look at Ellie. "Guys you should know she's not really into this sort of thing." Dina looks at you. "That's ok, we can do something else if you don't want to play this." You look at her as she gives you a smile.
"Oh no that's alright. I don't mind playing it's just not going to be very interesting as I haven't done anything." She furrows her brows. "Nothing? At all?" "I've only ever kissed someone and that's my partner currently. She's the only one I've kissed." Ellie looks at you. "Wait only her? You've had other girlfriends-" You nod as she's right. "We weren't really with eachother long enough for us to get to that stage." Dina smirks. "And you said it wouldn't be interesting. If anything this is more intriguing." You laugh gently at her words.
You were saying your goodbyes to Dina and Jesse. You turn around, facing Ellie once they're gone. It might be the alcohol talking but she looked really good right now. You stalk closer towards her. She smiles at you. "Come on I think you need some rest." She takes a few steps closer but you just look at her dumbly. "Did you know you're all I've been thinking about all night." You blurt out, unable to control anything at the moment. "Y/n you're drunk. Let's get to bed-" "kiss me." She widens her eyes in shock. Not exactly sure how to respond. "Go on Els. You can." She sighs. "I wish you had this much confidence sober." She goes to grab you bringing you to her bedroom to get you to lay down. She had made you sleep in her bed. There was honestly no turning it down as she kept insisting on it, so that's where you slept the whole time you were there.
"Ellieeee." You whine out. "Go to sleeeep." She trys to get you to stay down. Failing as you're a mess right now. "Atleast stay with me." She sighs again. "Pleaseeee." You try and Ellie being Ellie, she caves in. Getting in with you and bringing you close to her. You look up to her smiling. You decide to just lean in anyway and give her a messy peck to the lips. She's shocked to say the least. She freezes. In all honesty, she can't believe it had happened at all.
She would always think about it. How soft your lips would be. How much she'd be able to kiss you better then that asshole you're with. She knew she could. She let her thoughts wander. Thinking about your body, how she'd treat you just how you should be treated. She wanted to badly. She snaps out of these thoughts as you snuggle into her. She let it. This has been what she wanted. She couldn't though. What on earth was she gunna do now.
You woke up the next morning to a slight headache. Not horrid but it was definitely there. You genuinely don't remember much, that is until you turn your head to see Ellie fast asleep. You widen your eyes, suddenly regaining memory of the events. Oh shit. That's incredibly embarrassing. You kissed her? So carelessly. That is not how you wanted that to go whatsoever. You gently sit up, feeling her stir at your dumb attempts to be quiet. "Good morning you." She looks at you with a tired expression. Then she remembers. Sitting up also. Awkward. So incredibly awkward. It's not like you haven't hugged Ellie before or anything. Nor cuddled.
So why is it incredibly awkward. Because your dumbass kissed her. Better yet while drunk. You remember how it felt though. Amazing to say the least. Incredible even. But she's your best friend. Not to mention you're still with Isabel. Oh my god. You cheated. That begins to play over and over in your head along with the lines of 'you're a bad person' You don't even want to think about it. So you get up and head out into the living room, leaving Ellie to feel more awkward and confused. This wasn't good.
It was a day later from the mishap. You didn't even speak to one another. You still panicked over the fact you had 'cheated' you were going stir crazy. Ellie was also thinking similar. Not about the 'cheating' because in all fairness she couldn't give a shit, she knew Isabel would have deserved it. She's worried about you, and your thoughts. Are you going to distance yourself from her? Are you going to try forget the moment. She tried to guage your emotions. Something she would always do pretty well. But not this time. You were currently watching TV. Ellie had, had enough of the silence. "I enjoyed it." Was the only thing she thought to say.
Only thing that seemed less stupid that came to her mind. You turn around to look at her. "W-what?" You were confused, but also starting to get nervous. "I like you. There's no doubt about it. Actually, no I don't like you Y/n I love you. And I can't just sit here and watch that bitch keep on hurting you when I know for a fact I could treat you so much better, and that kiss is doing all sorts to my brain right now I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop thinking about how stupidly I didn't kiss back-" You stand to meet her, still smaller than her but you swiftly grab her shirt and pull her into you. Forcefully kissing her again. She was shocked, but this time kisses back almont immediately.
She grabs ahold of your waist pulling you impossibly closer to her. It was heating up. And fast. You two pull away for air, to think about this all. But neither of you wanted that you just wanted to do. She grabs your cheeks to kiss you again. Missing the feeling of how soft they really were. And in all honesty. They were better then she imagined. She slowly pushes you gently onto the couch, climbing on you, not once breaking the heated kiss you two were having. She moves her knee in between your legs subconsciously. You let out a small breath at the feeling. She starts to move the kiss to your jaw. Then your neck. "Els.." You let out a content sigh. "Is this alright?"
You nod, eagerly, for more. "I'm not going to lie to you Y/n. I've dreamt about this. Dreamt of how I was your first and how I could make you feel amazing. Better then you even think she could." You stare at her as she speaks. "God I've been waiting for years." She says hungrily going in to kiss you again, starting to take your shirt off leaving you with nothing as you usually didn't really wear a bra. She devoured the fact you didn't. Immediately leaning down to suck on your newly hardened nipples. You let out a long shakey moan at the feeling, finally getting what you've wanted but been too scared for. There was no denying it. You were not, scared no more. You wanted it all. You wanted her. And she couldn't of folded for you any more. She trails those sucks down slowly to your small shorts.
She takes them off with the same pace. Letting out her own slight moan as she sees more of you. Sees how the thin fabric of your underwear clings to you, especially now that she's gotten you worked up, wet. She hums to herself. "Wonder who did that. Huh, baby?" She taunts, knowing it was her work. She goes to take them off completely leaving you completely naked. You didn't mind but you grab at her bicep. She got what you were hinting at. "All in good time angel. All in good time." She wanted to savor this. Make it longer. But she also didn't want to wait any longer then she had been. For years on end. And neither did you. You wanted to feel all the amazing feelings. Especially with Ellie. She strips off her hoodie leaving her in her wife beater.
"I can't wait any longer." She dives down to your needy core, wasting absolutely no time, eating you out like it's her last meal. She knew she should go slow but she just couldn't resist. You obviously don't mind. "Els.. Fuck-" You let out a slightly louder moan at the way she's moving her tongue in you. It was long, there was no doubt about it. And very skilled. She twists and turns it, occasionally moving up to your clit, flicking it every so often for a different sensation. You roll your hips into her mouth and arch your back. Making your head lay back into the couch as you relish in this beyond amazing feeling. You shakily sigh as you begin to feel a indescribable feeling in your lower tummy. Ellie feels you clench around her tongue so she knows you're also close.
But she suddenly gets a small idea before she makes you have the most jaw dropping orgasm. She takes her phone out and gets Isabel's number, she had from awhile back when you gave it to her just in case of- anything really. She goes to type, feeling so pussy drunk right now. She was enjoying how you taste like crazy.
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She smirks against your skin at the reply, setting her phone down and speeding up her movements. "Ellie..." You sigh out, in between a moan. She hums. "Let go for me pretty. I've got you. Yeah baby. Cum all over my face." That just about makes you break, with her words, her voice, her tongue her mouth- you let out one of the loudest moans that you've ever mustered up. Feeling your body shake as you cum all over Ellies face. You watch as her eyes roll back enjoying that way too much. She eats it all. Laps it up. Running her hands along your thighs, soothing them from the shakeyness. You lay there, incredibly out of breath, wondering what on earth had just happened.
"I'm not done with you yet sweet girl. Whether or not this is the last time I get to do this, I'm making it worth it." She says standing up off the couch, holding her hand out. You take it, cautiously standing with her. She takes you to her bedroom and gets you to lay down. "I think about using this on you. How you'd struggle." She declares, holding the strap in hand. You only know what its called because of her, how she'd use it on all these girls. Now you get the privilege of getting fucked by her with it. "But I don't want to rush you. Even if you are ready." She sits on the bed, maneuvering to lay down. "I want you to come sit on my lap, and ride it. You think you can do that for me?"
You nod, swiftly going to her lap, excited to. "Good girl." She breathes out going to put it on. You feel weak as she says that, and for the first time in, well. Ever. You don't even care. Once she's done you go to hover over it, her slender hands holding the base. "Sink down for me- there you go baby." She grunts as you lower yourself slowly but surely. You let out a small whimper at this new profound feeling. Resting your hands on her torso, once you're comfortable enough you begin to move. Easing yourself into this feeling of complete and utter pleasure. You let your mouth hang open as she grabs ahold of your hips. "That's it, shit. You learn so fucking well. So incredibly good for me aren't you." You nod, biting your lip with a small whine. "God I can't wait to fuck you dumb into this mattress. It will happen I count on it."
The way she says these filthy things makes your pussy flutter, she leans her beautiful hands up to your breast, squeezing with ease. "I feel you hugging me tight angel. I know you're close." She knows she can't truly feel it but she feels the way your struggling as your walls begin to squeeze up around the strap. You let out a struggled hum, feeling as though you could burst at any moment.
"Come on pretty girl. Let go for me." She says softly but oh how dirty it really was. You nod, as you can feel it approaching.
"That's it, such a good girl." She grunts, leaning a hand to your aching clit,  rubbing small circles. It sends you over the edge, cumming with another loud moan, feeling the liquid drip down your thighs. She then feels herself cum in her boxers. The harshness of your movements causing the friction to impact on her, she felt just as amazing. You flop onto her chest, exhausted and heavy eyed. You feel her strong arms wrap around your tired, fragile figure, feeling warm and content. "You're mine. And you always will be. No matter what, or who. Mine, angel. Mine." She says into your hair, as you fall into a deep, blissful sleep.
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doomrotten · 7 months
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My English is bad Right now, I can't afford to fully embody the work, but I can make sketches.
By the way, first and foremost, I want to emphasize that this is just my subjective opinion, which can change instantly, even if I am presented with another interesting point of view. Perception of a character is something constantly changing for me.
By its nature, Bi Han is a kind of revolutionary. He is the eldest child in the clan leader's family, and he was entrusted with all the responsibility and duties. He was raised to continue the legacy of his clan. He became a strict authority figure for the clan. Being the eldest child in my own family, I can understand his desire to change his life and the future of the clan (I don't have a clan, here I'm talking about my opinion), based on his own beliefs, rather than the beliefs of his parent. We don't know exactly how he was brought up, but judging by the results, we can confidently say the following: his ambition is to glorify the clan, make it the most powerful among other clans (if they exist), abandon old established traditions, and become independent from the authority of others, especially Liu Kang.
Even though the Lin Kuei clan holds the foremost place in Bi Han's heart, there is still disappointment in my soul - he sees his brothers only as a means to his own achievements, as cannon fodder, just like other ninjas in the Lin Kuei.
However, even though the clan plays a crucial role in his life, in the combined history, he still chooses power, leaving the clan in the background in the Sector. Perhaps new thoughts were born in his mind about how he can become unsurpassed, drawing strength from another dimension. Why? Perhaps for the sake of achieving complete self-assertion? His father didn't see the potential in Bi Han, just like in his brothers, as he also mentioned in the storyline: "He didn't notice our superiority."
Thus, Bi Han penetrates into the realm of unexplored horizons and is ready to do everything possible to achieve his goal.
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littlelioncub43 · 2 years
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Wake Up Call
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Summary: Mornings were absolutely divine, especially in the company of one sweetheart of a metalhead— Eddie Munson. Even if he wasnt much of a morning person. You show him just how good a morning can be when you're together.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), fluff, blowjobs, oral sex (m receiving), morning sex, reader loves giving Eddie head, Eddie being a screamer, Eddie's morning voice, established relationship, face fucking, deep throating, crying during sex (not the reader), Eddie being a sweetheart, and a partidge in a pear tree.
Word count: I have no clue, babes, I wrote this on my phone 🥰
A/N: Holy shit. I am so self-conscious about this fic, you guys! I haven't posted a full length one-shot in so unbelievably long. I feel rusty. But! I'm posting it anyways! I still feel really good about this one. Anyway. Let me know what you think! Reblog, comment, send an ask, a carrier pigeon, a fax, a telegram, a kindly worded email— I would really love the feedback 🥰 it's nice to be back to writing, and I hope you love it as much as I do. Ok, I'll let you go now. I love you 💖
Kisses 💋
—K
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The morning was still, a simple, peaceful hush hanging over the town of Hawkins, Indiana. Birds whistled their songs in a gentle voice, the trees barely rustling in the breeze as the world dreamt a little while longer. With the sun peeking over the horizon and Wayne already en route to work, the little trailer was serenity embodied.
You'd been up for a while doing nothing in particular as you waited for dawn to break. You loved watching the sun rise from Eddie's bed, the sunlight always seemed to pure shining through his curtains. With the new light slowly filling the room, you were finally able to properly see your boyfriend. Eddie lies beside you on his back, hands tossed across his chest haphazardly, his hair tossled carelessly around his face in a halo of chocolate curls and locks. The blanket that covers you both hung low on his hips, showing off the tattoos scattered across his alabaster skin, he ran a little hot at night and the summer heat was enough for him to toss the blankets aside. Your eyes trace the lovebites you left all along his exposed throat and the scratches along his meaty shoulder, a pleasant result of last night's vigorous activities.
The familiar surge of desire floods your body at the memory of last night, it sends a shiver up your bare spine. You bring one hand to his warm chest, drawing lazy lines as you scoot closer and closer to him. A smile tugs at your lips when Eddie twitches slightly, goosebumps pricking his skin like yours. Your hand glides lower and lower, you weren't in a hurry, no. There was more than enough time in the world for you two, right now.
As your fingers brush along the light dusting of hair on his tummy, Eddie can't help but shiver. Even in his sleep, Eddie was always so responsive; aching for your touch, your kisses, your love. He rolled his head to the side, breathing peacefully as he sleeps still. You watch his face for any signs of consciousness, when you find none, you chuckle softly. Your hand teases the edge of the blanket the covers his lower half. A prominent tent rests between his legs, the sight of it has you moaning softly. Your mouth watered with a hunger you knew well, you needed to taste him.
"G'morning, Princess," a raspy voice slurs. You heard the smile in his words well before you saw it. His face was soft from his slumber, eyes puffy but warm with love, his annoyingly charming smile lazily strung across his pink lips.
"Good morning," you whisper, bringing your hand back up to cup his cheek, leaning in so your lips brush against his ever so slightly. Eddie wastes no time closing the distance between you two. Eddie hums happily into the kiss when he feels your body melting into his, your legs tangling with his, his nornally bright voice was always unbearably deep and husky in the morning. The movement of his lips on yours distracts you enough from his arms slowly capturing your waist, holding you to him. He needed his morning kiss to function.
Finally, when breathing became a priority, Eddie relaxed his head back down on the pillow with a satisfied grin. Two rough hands slid across the bareness of your back soothingly as he looked up at you, he noticed the gleam in your eyes, even in the low light of early morning. The realization of your desire made his grin grow twice as big, his cock twitching excitedly with his heart.
"Whatcha lookin' at me like that for, pretty girl?" He teases, he knows exactly what you want. He just loves hearing you say it. You bite your plump lip to suppress a smirk, your hand leaving his cheek to float down his throat and chest.
"I wanna taste you, Eddie," you purr to him, not missing the way his pupils dilate at your confession, a shiver racking his body as your fingers tease the skin at the edge of the blanket once more. Your lips descend to his collarbones, sucking at the pale skin in the way you know drives him wild. "Please?"
"F-Fuck, yes. You can taste me, Princess," he whispers as if the air was knocked from his lungs. The devious pleased giggle you make against the curve of his neck is absolutely sinful, but Eddie can't help but grin wickedly with you. He feels your kisses deepen as you dip lower and lower, your hand finally cupping his morning wood gently— you always were a little tease.
The deep groan that rumbles in Eddie's chest when your warm fist surrounds his base echoes in the brightening room. Streaks of sunshine finally cutting through the blinds to illuminate your actions perfectly. Eddie lifts his head to watch your hand stroke him beneath the blanket, the duvet shrouding your movements, making it that much more erotic.
"Oh fucking hell, that's good," he groans, his hips pushing into your hand eagerly.
"Yeah?" You taunt softly, speeding your hand up ever so slightly. A surprised yelp breaks his deep moans when your teeth nip at the black widow spider inked into his chest, you give the demon head just below it a tender kiss with a pleased giggle before dropping lower and lower. The wet kisses you leave along his body has Eddie fisting the pillow beneath his head.
He fucking loved when you sucked him off, especially since you fucking loved doing it. The way you'd drop to your knees and take him into your mouth so happily, so eagerly— Eddie was wrapped around your little finger from now until the end of time.
"Jesus Christ," he sighs when you toss the blanket down and settle between his legs. You drag your free hand down his side, still steadily jerking him off with the other. You hum at the sight of his hard, throbbing dick, your hand slowing down to appreciate the way his shaft pulses. Your mouth waters to taste the beads of salty precum that ooze from him, but instead you latch on to his twitching thigh, biting the flesh there as you continue to teasingly stroke him.
"Mmmm," you moan, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you taste his skin, the heady scent of his manhood filling your senses. The strong yet lean muscle of Eddie's thigh tenses as you inch higher and higher. As much as he wants to believe you'll finally take him into your mouth, he knows better. His guess is proved right when you switched to his neglected thigh, opting to decorate it with hickeys and bites as you did the first one.
"Fuck— Princess, please, have mercy," he groans with a smile, his hands gripping the pillow a little harder. You chuckle and answer him with a kiss to the most recent hickey you were working on. Eddie watches as you finally bring your tongue to his head, he watches the pink muscles greedily clear away the drops of precum.
"O-Oh, fuck, yes," he moans as your lips encase his tip, his eyes fluttering. Yours stay on his face, enjoying the way his eyebrows furrow and crease with pleasure. With a slack jaw, Eddie lets out the pretties sounds you've ever heard; deep, throaty moans that bubbled from the pit of his chest and echoed throughout the unclean bedroom. His words slur together as you take more of his length into you, finding a slow and steady pace to bob your head.
This happened every single time, he couldn't believe how fucking good your mouth felt. How hot, how soft, how fucking wet you were. You moan as he fills your mouth, your hand not holding his base strokes his hip and inner thigh, knowing how sensitive he was there. The shivers you get in return tell you that he loves it. The vibrations of your moan has Eddie's hips twitching, stuffing more of himself into your throat.
"F-Fuck! Fucking hell!" He curses through his teeth, his eyes shut tight as he tries to calm down.
"Mmmmm," you moan again, watching as his face contorts once more.
"Jesus!" He shouts a little louder than intended, his eyes opening only to roll as you speed up ever so slightly. The sloppy sounds of his cock slowly fucking your mouth was going to drive him crazy. "Baby, ple— a-ah!— faster! Faster, God, please, faster!"
The rawness of his voice and his begging was more than enough to convince you. With a deep breath through your nose, you speed up. Your tongue flat against the underside of his shaft to guard him from your bottom teeth, and your hand moving from his base to cup his balls. The moment your soft hand comes into contact with his aching balls, Eddie does all he can do to keep from screaming; his balled up fist shoved into his mouth.
"Ohhhhmygod!" He cries from behind his hand as you play with his balls, his body writhes uncontrollably at the onslaught of indescribable pleasure. One, two, three more bobs of your head and you've swallowed him completely, your nose brushing against the patch of dark curls at his groin and his tip nestled deep in the heat of your throat. Unable to fight it anymore, Eddie's hand leaves the pillow to grip the back on your head fiercely, an unintelligible scream pitifully muffled by his fist.
The sounds erupting from your lover above you has arousal practically spilling from your untouched cunt. Your thighs rub together with need as Eddie's thighs tremble and spread for you. The grip he has on your head limits your movements, unable to pull off more than an inch or two, at best. In quick, jerking motions, he fucks your face eagerly as he listens to you gag around him. Your eyes, clouded with tears, flutter shut, allowing yourself to lose yourself in his pleasure.
Soon, you both find a rhythm. It's fast and dirty, primal, frenzied, lustful. Perfect. Eddie's deep moans raise in pitch, now sounding like a pitiful whimpering mess. Your own moans grow in frequency, knowing he's close to blowing his load down your throat, just like you want. The twitching of his cock signals his impending high.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—!" Water gathers at his lower lashes. He couldn't help himself.
Eddie's head slowly begins to lift off the bed, his abs contracting as the pleasure mounts higher and higher, his voice suddenly gone. His hand leaves his mouth to join the other on your head, his fingers going rigid, his eyes stare up at the ceiling in an unfocused gaze, chin tilted towards the heavens as his pretty brown orbs roll and flutter uncontrollably. The smart mouth that is quick with a joke or a witty comment is left hung open in a silent scream, he holds his breath, his entire body drawing painfully taught when the pleasure is suddenly too much for him to take.
The first rope of his hot seed shoots into your throat as Eddie goes still, tears spilling over. He swears on everything holy that he's ascended to heaven, his vision is white and blinded with bursts of light as you milk him dry. You pet his hip as he cums, swallowing his seed with eager gulps, his lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. Each time your throat contracts around his length, his muscles pull tighter.
Finally, the last bit of his cum is cast out from his body. The strength quickly drains from Eddie, his grip loosens from your hair as he falls back on to the mattress, his eyes drooping shut on their own accord. You release him with a pop, gasping to catch your own breath. Through the water in your eyes, you see Eddie's relaxed face, his body limp above you.
"Eddie?" You call softly, your voice gravelly from your throat being wrecked. When you get no response, you crawl up his body, taking note of his breathing and erratic heartbeat. He's out cold.
You can't help but laugh a little before gently petting his sweaty head, brushing his bangs off his sticky forehead. Eddie comes back to you softly tapping his cheek, his ears ring like a bitch but he can hear your melodious voice over the din.
"Eddie, baby, wake up, come on, open your eyes for me, honey," you sound far away, but your words get clearer and clearer. The first thing he sees is your relieved smile, and he just can't help but tiredly smile back. "Hi, there, handsome. You ok?"
"Huh-huh," he grumbles from deep in his chest, speaking was far too complicated for him right now. You had well and truly sucked him stupid. Sleepily, he nuzzles into your hand that now cradles his cheek.
"Ready for a nap, big boy?" You coo and pull the blanket over you both. He hums an affirmative and weakly slings an arm around your waist, holding you close to him. On instinct, you bury your face into his neck as you settle in beside him.
A nap couldn't hurt.
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Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!
I no longer have a taglist! If you wish to stay up-to-date on when I post, follow @littlelioncub-library 💖🫂🥰
Dividers by the amazing @firefly-graphics
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permanentswaps · 29 days
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Like Father Like Son Pt.2
Read the original from @exploratorytfs here.
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It's been three years since that bizarre twist of fate turned my life upside down, or should I say, right side up. Looking back now, I can't help but smirk at the irony of it all. I won't tell my dad (yeah, I definitely think of him as my dad now), but the truth is, the body swap wasn't entirely an accident.
I just wanted to give him a taste of my carefree lifestyle, show him that growing up and being mature isn’t all it's cracked up to be. So, I went online and found a way for us to swap.
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I never meant for it to be permanent. I mean, who would want to stay in someone else's body forever? But the moment I found myself in his shoes, staring at the world through his eyes, I knew I had hit the jackpot. His body, his life—it all felt like a perfect fit.
It had only been a day, but I didn’t want to ever leave. What was I gonna do now? I couldn't imagine going back to my old life, to the mundane routine and endless expectations. No, this was where I belonged. But how could I make it permanent without causing even more chaos?
Surprisingly, my dad seemed content in my old body, reveling in the responsibility of it all. He didn't seem eager to find a way to swap back, and I couldn't help but gloat inwardly. It was almost too easy—I had traded up in every possible way.
Every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, a surge of excitement coursed through me. The chiseled jawline, the toned, youthful physique, the effortless charm—it was like I had been upgraded to the deluxe model. And as much as I tried to suppress it, I couldn't help but revel in the undeniable satisfaction of it all.
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So when my dad brought up the idea of making the swap permanent, I didn't hesitate. "Hell yeah, Dad," I replied with a smirk, savoring the taste of victory.
We hashed out the details over dinner, but in my mind, it was already a done deal. And just like that, the deal was sealed. Sure, there are moments when I feel a twinge of guilt for keeping my dad's body, but then I remembered how much better I look in it, and the guilt just turned to horniness. After all, who wouldn’t want to be me.
Shortly thereafter, I signed a modeling contract – of course, who wouldn’t wanna see a body like this? Every photoshoot, every runway strut, only served to reinforce my belief that I had made the right choice.
My dad was so excited for me and gave me his sports car as a present for that and my birthday. He told me to be careful with it like the responsible guy he is. I promised him I would be, but I speed down the highway blasting music. After all, a hot young jock like me has to do that! … But I'll let him think he's having a good influence on me.
Through my modeling gig, I met my boyfriend James. He embodied everything I found irresistible: tall, dark, and undeniably handsome. What intrigued me even more was that he had no clue this body wasn't originally mine. That really turned me on.
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Even though I'm used to living this life by now and fully think of myself as Nathan, I still get a thrill every time he calls me by my name. Just last week, we were having a night of passionate sex. As he pressed me down onto the bed in missionary, he thrust back and forth in slow. deep strokes.
Rubbing his right thumb in circles around my left nipple, he leaned down to kiss me. I looked up at him in awe. Smirking back had me he said in a husky voice, “I love you Nathan.”
Before I knew it, I was shooting my load across his thick, muscular chest.
Mixed in with the pleasure, I had to laugh to myself. In a way, I got what I wanted. Nathan (or at least his body) definitely is living his youth now.
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shadowystan · 7 months
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YANDERE! husband x f!reader– marriage can't be that bad, right? (wrong)
YANDERE!husband who's the epitome of wealth and fame. He can give you the world, yes, but why would he?
YANDERE!husband who treats you like the dirt beneath his feet from the very get go. Misogynistic and conservative to a fault, he believes women should really just sit back and let their men do the work.
(While they, of course, rot off in kitchens and behind sewing machines.)
YANDERE!husband who was sure he was going to get a pretty slave of a wife. Now, pray tell, why does his woman refuse to even touch him on the first night of their wedding?
"I won't sleep with you."
Headstrong and stern, you don't seem like a docile little thing. Far from it actually. Your brows are furrowed and there's a certain determination behind your eyes.
It's infuriating. 
YANDERE!husband who may as well be a cliche high school bully with his jabs and manhandling. He isn't abusive. But that's only because you're tied down to him, anyway. Why must he get physical when you don't have anywhere to go or money to call your own?
Or. Well. Do you?
YANDERE!husband who frowns deeply when you tell him you're going for a job interview. Surely, you must be joking?
Ah, that's right.
YANDERE!husband who smiles big and chokes out a hearty laugh. "That's a good one! You're funny, wife."
You were, in fact, not joking.
YANDERE!husband who's appalled, eyes blown wide and lips slightly parted when you wake up at 6 in the morning the next day with a snugly wrapped pant set around your body, looking like the embodiment of a classy business woman.
"I got the job," You dryly inform him.
YANDERE!husband who's a pissbaby. Complaining to his parents how you aren't obedient or submissive. Blaming his old man for not 'giving' him a feminine, exclusively child bearing wife.
YANDERE!husband who tries restricting you. He's richer and more influential than you. Why can't he stop you?
He fails to understand you have legs. And a healthy, working mind.
YANDERE!husband who after putting you on house arrest comes home to you working from home on your laptop. YANDERE!husband who's beaming and shining when he confiscates your electronics the next day, thinking you'll stop being so stubborn only to find out you sent the kitchen staff home out of spite.
YANDERE!husband who, after a while, realises that letting you just work is better than coming home to a starving stomach.
YANDERE!husband who's not really, well, a yandere yet. Or.. is he?
YANDERE!husband who just needed one action from you to turn completely obsessed. A curt nod of approval here, an amused eyebrow raise there and he's putty in your hands.
But does that make him kind? God, no.
YANDERE!husband who shows just how terrifying he could be after finally falling for you. The childish, humorously masculine man you knew is gone now.
You're a strong person but YANDERE!husband is scary to say the least.
"Don't wear this."
"Dress modest, wife."
"Behave."
It's not fine anymore. He makes you feel unsafe. He is unsafe.
YANDERE!husband who fires every single one of his maids and servants. 
"You'll be the one cooking now, dear wife."
Has he always been this tall?
YANDERE!husband who flashes you a calm smile, suffocating you in his presence when you refuse to cook or clean.
YANDERE!husband who simply says:
"It's better to learn now, dear," He takes a step forward, figure towering over you. A hand reaches out. You don't flinch.
His smile widens at that, large hand gently patting you on the head, calloused palm smoothing out your hair.
"Really," He continues. "It's every housewife's duty to do so."
Your eyes widened and dread filled your stomach.
"I'm not a-"
"Plus," He cuts you off. Has his smile always looked so vicious? "A mother should be ideal. If we have a girl, – God, I hope not – you'd have to know a few things to pass on to her, yeah?"
A chill runs down your spine. You gulp, lips trembling as you voice out your next word.
"D-daughter?"
He grins, looking awfully boyish for someone who has just indirectly told you that you won't be going to your job anymore.
"Heh, you'd prefer a boy too, right? They're superior."
You let out a shaky breath.
"I.. We won't be having a child."
He paused. Your heart stopped.
"Ah, of course," He threw a soft smile your way, as if understanding your situation. "Of course, of course; we'll have to teach you how to become a perfect wife first, yes?"
Fuck.
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vixeneptune · 9 months
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AFFIRMATIONS THAT WORK LIKE MAGIC
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I'm permanently that version of myself who has it all.
I think from the state of having it all right now.
I act from the state of having it all.
My spirit is free. I can have and do ANYTHING. My ego can't even hold me back.
I have it all right now because I said so.
My state of consciousness is that I already have it all.
Limitations who? That don't apply to me. I identify as a limitless powerful being.
I love how I'm always in the state of the wish-fulfilled.
Doubts are so silly I don't let that get in my way. I'm unstoppable af
I am infinitely abundant and magnetic.
I am connected to everything, I AM everything.
I think, walk, and act like all my wishes are already fulfilled bc they are.
I am inherently a powerful magical being.
I AM fearless, there's nothing that can hold me back. I fiercely take what I want and own it
I get what I want everytime, no doubt about that, that's just how it is. Life is rigged in my favor.
I completely embody the state of the wish-fulfilled like it's my only true reality.
I already have it all right now regardless of anything and everything.
It's all already mine, I'm so grateful.
Everything is working in my favor, I can feel it.
I claim and call all my power back to me now.
I'm the one who has it all, I'm the luckiest.
In my reality, anything is possible bc I said so.
I'm the embodiment of infinite love, beauty and abundance.
I FEEL like I have it all already and I do!
I have innate trust and confidence in my ability to manifest literally ANYTHING.
Desired everything? I already got it.
I don't need to do anything to get what I want, it comes to me on its own.
My self concept is so great that I never chase or desire anything bc I already have it all.
I AM already that perfect ideal version of myself, I don't have to try to be anything.
My state of being is fulfilled, whole and complete.
I claim it NOW and forever.
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janus-cadet · 1 month
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This card is brighter than the one I usually do- might even be the most colorful of the whole deck, so far! Which- fitting. Today, let's welcome Charlie Morningstar and Vaggie, double figures for the Ten of Cups!
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(Now usually, the card also have one or two more people on it; I thought about adding Pentious, but our snake should have his card soon enough. Therefore, it's just the girls.)
Explanations under the cut, as well as a poll for the next card to draw, and the rest of the Hazbin tarot cards!
Upright, the Ten of Cups embodies happiness, joy, and emotional contentment. You have created an abundance of love and happiness in your life, and you now share this love with others, expanding your heart even more. This fits Charlie and what she created with her hotel, supported by Vaggie- together, they are the start of it all. You are now surronded by your loved ones (it's a fucking happy day in hell!), with whom you share a powerful and deep connection. You support one another, and you help other to reach their highest potential- on the path to redemption! Most of all, you do it because seeing others happy is the greatest joy you could have. It's the "happy family" card by excellence, as well as a positive card for romantic relationships- you're in a blissful one, if that's what you're looking for, to the point you may believe that you ar soulmates destined to be with one another (I do love them, mh, mh). When the card appears in your reading, it's time for you to take a step back, and appreciate everything you accomplished. You went through hard time, but look at that! You can do this, now we know it, and you actually did. Follow your heart, says the card, and follow your inner sens of Good.
Reversed, the card brings more subtility. You can see the Upright reading as mostly Charlie's idealistic view on the hotel and on redemption; but with the reversed Ten of Cups come the struggles. You may feel disconnected and disengaged from your loved ones, like your estranged father and your missing mother. You try to connect, but each times, something goes wrong, and the distance between you grows. Why does he forgets everything you say? Can't he pay attention? Why is he not calling more often? Or maybe you're afraid to trust, and you're keeping some secrets close to your chest. You don't open up enough, and you create, without meaning to, a distance with others, with her. You're too rash and too impulsive, but you mean well- surely, they can see that? It may have an impact on your relationship; you need to realise that nothing is perfect, and every relationship has its ups and downs. The Ten of Cups invite you to seek out a common ground with your loved ones, and rebuild the relationship from there. Talk to your father about why, exactly, he's so reluctant to help; talk to your partner about who you are, and where you came from. Open the lines of communication and be ready to hold space for one another. Be compassionate, understanding, and respectful. The card can also mean that you're starting to doubt yourself, and what you are doing. Is it really worth it? Are you up to the task? Are you letting other people down? You have to rethink those questions. Think about what makes you happy, what you believe in, and bring back your focus to that.
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And that's it for today! I'm planning to do at least three more Hazbin cards- if the fixation does not die by then. Not that it shows any sign of slowing down, oh boy- they are all so fun to draw, too!
Anyway.
And with that, Hazbin Hotel verse is the most represented fandom in my whole deck of cards, right before Doctor Who. Ah!
If you have read this far- well done. So proud of you. You win a peach cider, if you're even able to drink this abomination. And paf, the rest of the cards!
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lucysstoryworld · 2 months
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The Veil Whisperer | Azriel x Reader (1)
Summary: The aftermath of Bryce Quinlan's arrival has stirred up some trouble for the Night Court. After weeks of trying to resolve the issues on their own, the inner circle of the Night Court are left having to consult a dangerous female to complete the job much to Azriel's dismay.
Themes: Love/hate relationship, enemies to lovers kinda.
Warnings: CC3 SPOILERS, NSFW from the get-go, canon-typical violence, angst.
No use of (y/n). I might have gotten some info wrong about acotar and can't double check bc I gave my friend my books so pls be aware of that. I would also massively appreciate any criticism! I'm trying something new and would definitely appreciate any pointers of any kind!
Words: 3620 | Part Two Here
Azriel stood before his High Lord and Lady, frustrated and exhausted. Irritation was rippling off him in waves, his shadows swirling as though there were snakes poised to strike. Azriel was poised as though he was going to strike. The fresh spring wind had melded into the sweltering summer breeze since he had last been in Velaris. Gods he wished he could sit on one of the many balconies of the River House, with a whiskey and book in his arsenal. The feeling of the sun on his wings, the sweet scent of Elain’s garden being pushed around by the wind and the faint sound of Nyx cooing close by felt like a dreamscape away.
“So there’s nothing,” Rhys stated, more than asked.
Azriel felt his muscles tighten and his fists close. More than anything, he felt the tiredness weighing on his eyes as he furrowed his brows. The actions were so slight that, to the normal eye, they would go unnoticed. But to Rhys and Feyre, the actions were as obvious as the sky being blue. “Not even a trace,” He started, reigning in his annoyance. “My spies have tried, their connections have tried, I’ve tried and I can’t even pick up a hint of a track.”
Azriel wished he could go back in time and make Bryce undo whatever it is she did to the Prison during her impromptu visit. Azriel had spent the last number of weeks cleaning up after her. Or attempting to at least. Azriel watched as Rhys assessed the weight of his words, observed as he and Feyre spoke mind-to-mind.
Feyre lifted her chin. “So what we are faced with is that this is not something we can resolve…” she looked hesitantly toward Azriel, trying to lay the words delicately. Feyre very rarely saw Azriel so wound up. There had been glimpses in the war, like when Elain had been lured away by the cauldron. But this was a different ball game. Bryce had stirred up Prythian in her desperate attempt to save her world. Feyre could not fault the girl for that, no matter the swagger Bryce flaunted. But, they had been cleaning up, Azriel had been cleaning up the chaos she left behind. “Not on our own at least,” She finally finished.
Azriel struggled to move past the feelings of failure with his High Lady’s words. Though his bones were aching, his wings seemed heavier and heavier with each tick of the clock and his shadows now swirling lazily as if they were the embodiment of his exasperation, Azriel couldn’t help like feeling he could have done more. Like he could dig that little bit deeper to give his brother and Feyre some semblance of information. Anything, if it meant they wouldn’t have had that slightly disappointed look on their faces.
Azriel did not acknowledge Feyre’s words, instead picking a spot on the wall behind both of them. A pawn, ready to be ordered to their next position. Rhys could see his brother recessing. He remembered the time he saw Azriel again after the first wars, that same demeanour being mirrored right before his eyes. “We will discuss what to do later. You’ve been gone awhile, brother. Rest for a bit,” Rhys declared, and rested a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. A sliver of guilt snaked up Rhys’s spine when Azriel seemed to deflate slightly, as though he was prepared to go back into the field if he was ordered to. Azriel finally met the High Lord’s eyes, a silent thank you and apology all twisted into the gentle nod. We are grateful, Az,he whispered into his mind.
With that, Azriel left Feyre’s study. Walking the halls, Azriel debated saying hello to the members of his family that were in the River House. One would think that he would have been excited to see them. Typically, he would have. Though, this mission was particularly gruelling and with no result, the thought of disappointing anyone else on that day was the very last thing he wished to do. So, Azriel stopped in his tracks and winnowed to the House of Wind. Usually, he flew home so he could enjoy the sight of his home after a long mission like this but, it was an effort to keep his wings from dragging on the floor.
***
Steam billowed in the grand bathroom, so thick it was hard to determine where the steam began and Azriel's shadows ended. The aforementioned Illyrian warrior breathed a silent thanks to Nesta and her power for granting the House a consciousness. The bath was already drawn with various oils diffusing into the air by the time he left his knives down in his room. Slowly, Az began to peel his leathers from his aching body. Bit by bit, the articles fell away revealing the constellation of scars mixed with tattoos. Azriel stood bare before the mirror, studying the reflection before him. His eyes skimmed and paused a different points, though they were sure to keep clear of his hands. Scuffs of mud clung to Azriel's legs from the trenches he had to almost wade through, along with a few almost-healed scratches he acquired that morning. A few past battle wounds decorated his torso, the newest being from the arrow that had pierced his chest the day Nesta and Elain were Made. Averting his eyes, Azriel focused on his face instead. As if just taking his eyes away could take away from his failures of that day. Failing his High Lady and failing each of her two sisters was something that would take a few more years to be at peace with.
Azriel admittedly looked like shit. His hair was much longer than when he left, and he had done a few rough chops in the time that passed. Darkness underscored his eyes, and his skin looked like it had aged a few decades, if that was even possible. Azriel lowered himself into the almost blistering bath. A sigh loosed from deep within his chest, relief prickling across his skin like wildfire. Stretching his wings out in the water, his muscles relaxed from the weeks of pent of frustration. Azriel scrubbed gently, almost massaging his worn out body. The lavender and honey soap clung to the dips and bumps of his body. Gladness was all Azriel could feel. Finally, he felt like he was home. No disappointment or worry, just the pleasantness and serenity that Velaris promised. Azriel supposed the only thing that could possibly complete this scene would be a loving mate, massaging his scalp with her soft luscious legs wrapped around him from behind. Maybe she would kiss his neck, or whisper how much she loved him in his ear. The thought sent a rush of blood between his legs, arousal beginning to cloud Azriel's mind. Azriel gripped himself and began to pump slowly, thinking of how her body would push against his back. His head rolled back as he imagined her soft tits against his wings, her nipples grazing against the sensitive area close to the base. Suddenly, his hands were hers. Her fingers would be wrapped around his cock, stroking away his tough day as she kissed and nipped at his neck. Closer and closer, she would take him to the edge of ecstasy, running her thumb over the head of his cock. Shivers rippled through Azriel's body as he neared completion, his toes were curling as he felt his head became light. His mate would begin to lick at the spot on his neck that drove him wild, and her other hand would reach to lightly caress his wings. The thought of the sensation sent Azriel careening through his orgasm, spilling into the water around him.
With laboured breaths, Azriel got out of the bath. While he needed release, it seemed to highlight just how lonely he was feeling. How he wished the cauldron had blessed him with Elain that day, instead of matching her to Lucien. But alas, like always, he was not worthy of such a fate. Drying off, Azriel heard a slip of paper land on the vanity nearby. A letter from Rhys. Padding over to it, it read that there was a family dinner that evening to celebrate his return and have a discussion with everyone over what to do. Confirming his attendance, because with his dear brother it was always a choice, Azriel let the paper vanish into thin air. Until then, he was going to crawl into the mass of satin sheets and plush cushions that were seemingly screaming his name.
***
Rhysand or Feyre must have brought everyone else up to speed on Azriel's mission before he arrived because no one had asked about it and they were already three courses into dinner. He momentarily caught Feyre's eye, questioning her with a single glance. His High Lady merely winked and smiled, then returned her attention to the cooing babe in her arms. Trust Feyre to take care of their family in ways they didn't know they needed. Azriel allowed himself to sink in to the idle chatter, striking up a conversation with Nesta and Cassian, who looked as though they were about to have a domestic.
"I'm sure you'll be able to hold your own against me in a couple decades, Nes," Cassian teased and looked to Az for backup.
Nesta caught the bothers' exchange and directed her cutting glare to Azriel. "Well?" She calmly demanded, though like always, there was a cool fury ready to strike.
The Shadowsinger raised his arms, "Maybe when you can reanimate a skeleton and kill a Middengard Wrym with it, then perhaps you'd be able to hold your own against her," Azriel quipped, earning a satisfied humph from Nesta. Cassian chuckled, squeezing his mate's shoulder.
Mor, in true Morrigan fashion, used the allusion to recent events to bring up the topic that had been looming in the air since Azriel arrived. "So... how do you think we should tackle the escaped prisoner issue?" She asked everyone. Everyone halted their conversation, waiting to see what the others came up with. Azriel dipped his head slightly, embarrassed at his lack of answers.
Rhys sighed deeply, his brows knitting together. He kept his eyes trained on his hand, which was currently being toyed with by Nyx. He studied it for a moment, wishing he could be as innocent and oblivious as his son. "I was thinking that there might be one person left who would have the knowledge to track them," Rhys started. He was unsure, not enjoying the idea of what he was about to suggest.
Azriel seemed to catch on and he couldn't help the scoff and eyeroll. Elain looked between the two brothers, "What?" She asked, wariness prickling down her arms. Elain had never seen Az so tired and irritable than this evening. It had to be bad, for Azriel to act so animated compared to his usual demeanour.
"Nothing," Azriel nearly spat, "It's nothing because we are not going to see her."
A collective realisation occurred across the original members of the inner circle, and more confusion within the Archeron sisters. Everyone's reaction was different. Mor frowned, Amren remained unsurprisingly indifferent and Cassian puffed a breath out of his cheeks. "Amren, will you explain please?" Feyre asked, clearly not in the mood for dramatics.
"The 'her' they are referring to is a female gifted with a magic long since purged from this world," Amren explained. "She is known in this land as the Veil Whisperer. The Veil Whisperer has been known to exchange services in return for hefty bargains, some of which has left those who have availed worse off than before they struck the deal."
"This sounds like it is ill-advised," Elain replied, rubbing her hands over her arms.
"It is ill-advised," Azriel affirmed, sticking Rhys with a hard glare.
Squaring his shoulders, Rhys did not yield. "Does anyone have a better solution?" He asked everyone, though his eyes remained on Azriel's.
"I hate to say it, Az, but Rhys could be right. We are in under our heads here," Mor added. "I don't like it either, but what other options do we have?"
"Why don't we ask our friends in other courts? Maybe Helion could offer us something we don't have?" Nesta questioned.
"We didn't tell any of the other courts about Bryce's arrival or what she did when she was here. We would have to explain that in order to explain why we are in this predicament." Cassian's words breathed a sense of awareness across the table. Of course they couldn't ask for help. Not without creating tension and distrust with their friends and fraying what little lines they had with other courts.
"So we are on our own in this," Elain began tentatively. "If we do attempt to solicit this Veil Whisperer, who's to say she will accept the job?" Azriel felt gratitude towards the middle sister for the support.
"Rhysand has only had dealings with the Veil Whisperer on a very limited amount of issues. Each time, her price is different than what she is typically known for," Amren's voice was unforgiving.
"I have only heeded her services a handful of times, for very specific reasons," Rhys told the sisters, Nyx's eyes began to lull as he nestled into his mother's chest. "I asked her to hide my mother's ring in a place that would be hard to get it out of."
Feyre's lips straightened into a line, and she met Rhysand's eyes, and damn... if looks could kill, the High Lord would be dead five times over. "I thought you put the ring into the Weaver's cottage yourself," Feyre stated, a slight hiss in her tone as her jaw clenched.
Cassian had to conceal his grin as Rhys looked at Feyre apologetically. "Not exactly," his brother began, and a barely muffled snort erupted from the general. "You remember that my mother wanted it to be a challenge. The only person I thought could be creative enough to hide it would be her... and I was right," Rhys explained and shot his brother a glare, returned only by a smug Cheshire smile.
"So you let this Veil Whisperer do your dirty work then." Trust Nesta to not pass up the opportunity to gain the upper hand.
Cassian outright cackled at his mate's criticism, "Nes has got you there, brother!"
"No, Nesta," Rhys challenged. Things had not been completely amicable between Rhys and Nesta since she gave away the Mask to Bryce. "I do not let her do my dirty work. Let's not join in on discussions you couldn't possibly have any understanding on."
"Rhys," Feyre warned.
The warning went unheard, as Nesta tipped her chin -- a tell-tale sign that she was about to enter battle. "No, what understanding could I possibly have. Surely no one else in this room has superior knowledge to their High Lord," She spat. Tension began to thicken in the room, like a fine soup. "Well, unless that 'understanding' matches your own. Gods forbid anyone truly disagree with you... Rhys." Nesta's eyes narrowed and when she saw her words had hit their mark, a smirk tugged at her lips.
"Well, now that we're totally off topic," Mor drawled. "Anyone fancy another drink?"
"She's right," Feyre sighed. Rhysand broke his staring competition with Nesta, anger coiling in his gut. "We need to make a decision on if we are going to approach her or not."
"What price does she typically demand?" Elain questioned.
"For my mother's ring, she demanded a specific tea." Rhys looked at everyone but skipped over Nesta. "I thought she took mercy on me. But no, this tea comes from a particular plant that grows in the Bog of Oorid, and happens to be protected by the Kelpies." Everyone looked reasonably put-off, Nesta particularly whose mate pulled her hand into his own. "Not to mention that it is poisonous in its plant form so I had trek back to the Whisperer's dwelling feeling like death warmed up."
Elain frowned, her mind trickling through her knowledge to determine which plant could have possibly debilitated the High Lord of Night. "She didn't tell you that it would do that?" Elain already knew her answer.
"No," Azriel finally spoke. "The Veil Whisperer is a master of manipulation. Everything that leaves her mouth has an ulterior meaning. Lies hidden within lies. You won't know the truth unless she wants you to. Not telling Rhys about the tea was her way of showing that she can down him in ways he would never even think of, without even a touch of her magic. She is a snake and jumping into this with her is stupid," He finished with a grunt.
"Have you ever seen her magic?" Nesta asked the table.
To the sisters' surprise, everyone shook their head. Nesta raised a brow at Amren, thinking out of anyone she would have seen it. "I do not enter into bargains with the likes of her," Amren stated as though it was obvious. "And I have never been in her presence. She does not participate in war, under any circumstances. Though I have heard that she works with other... deities. A rumour, but a dangerous one to float in these lands." Everyone remained silent at that little bit of information, not entirely sure on how to digest it, let alone comment on it.
"All this being said... I don't see any other viable option," Mor declared. The lack of argument was agreement enough.
"So how should we go about this?" Feyre asked. She hated instances like these. As High Lady, she should be able to provide solutions for her friends and family but her overall lack of old age inhibited her in these niche situations.
"The Veil Whisperer lives in the Middle. Azriel and I will go there tomorrow and ask her if she wants the job."
Before Azriel could even protest his involvement, Amren cut in, "She will want this job. She will gain information that she can work to her advantage, and that says nothing of her asking price. Tread carefully, boy." The warning was not taken lightly. Rhys dipped his chin, though his mind seemed a million miles away.
Feeling his social battery wearing quicker than usual, Azriel declined any offer of further drinking and decided to return to the House of Wind. Though he gave the excuse of being tired, which he was, he caught the look in Elain's eyes. The look that screamed that she could see right through the excuse. Whether it was her seer abilities or that she had come to pick up on Azriel's subtle giveaways, he was unsure. Feeling the need to fly off some of his stress, Azriel made for one of the balconies. Though the aforementioned middle Archeron sister followed him to the terrace. "You don't have to go. You can stay and talk, if you wish." The kindness and observation rattled Azriel's chest. He had never experienced a female be so attentive and caring toward him before. Not one he also cared for anyways.
His shadows began reaching for Elain, slithering and weaving affectionately. "Thank you, Elain. I'm okay for now, I will sleep it off. But I appreciate the offer." Well, it meant something to him but that didn't mean her gesture was enough for him to emotionally offload onto her.
Frowning ever so slightly, Elain's shoes clicked on the polished marble as she shortened the gap between herself and the Shadowsinger. Gingerly, she reached for his gloved hand and squeezed gently. "I hope you know that I truly mean that. There is nothing so severe that it should be shouldered by you alone."
Azriel brushed her cheek with his free hand, unable to stop the smile that tugged on his lips. "And I truly appreciate that, thank you Elain. Your kindness is beautiful, I truly hope it never pales." He said by way of a goodbye and backed away from her blushing face, stretching his wings. He could tell she wanted to stop him but he launched himself from the balcony before she had the courage to respond. Azriel felt like an ass, pushing her away when she was trying. He often found himself slipping under Elain's spell of sweetness and beauty, yet something in the back of his mind always reeled him back to reality. He desperately wished it wouldn't, he ached for the companionship both his brothers had. Though it seemed the Mother had different plans for Azriel... if she has any at all Azriel often thought to himself.
Azriel pushed all thoughts from his head and soared higher and higher, testing his limits as the air thinned around him and became harder to fly through. Up and up, closer and closer. Then, his wings stilled and curled around him. The descent was vicious, the earth was pulling Azriel down with a fury. The air whipped past the Shadowsinger, and finally, his mind felt empty. In that moment, Azriel was nothing more than a drop of rain from a cloud, falling from grace. Opening his eyes, the lights that dusted Velaris like golden glitter inched nearer. And just as they went from specks of stardust on the ground to discernible buildings and faelights dotted along the river, Azriel finally opened his wings and levelled off. Adrenaline coursed through his blood and finally shook the cobwebs that felt adhered to his bones. Azriel soared across the sky, allowing his thoughts and feelings to ebb and flow through him.
And when he eventually touched down, Azriel felt prepared for tasks laid out before him. Felt prepared to come face-to-face with the Veil Whisperer.
Part Two Here
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nozunhinged · 5 months
Text
I finally managed to put my overall thoughts about Playboyy into words and hoooooo boy do I have a lot to say.
I watched the mdl ratings go down, the blatant hate towards the plot, the actors, the scenes, the sex. There was nothing that wasn't torn apart about this series and yet I wasn't phased for a second and I kept wondering why because usually get very passionate about defending the things I love.
And then I realized that this series is the cinematic embodiment of a very lonely path that I've been walking for decades and I am already very, very used to the shame around it.
Sex is not just my special interest, I also had the privilege to grow up with excellent sex education (thanks parents) and on top of that I never struggled with my (pan)sexual identity. Sex plays a significant role in my life. But I learned VERY quickly that I should keep this to myself if I don't want to be ostracized or bullied.
"You're autistic AND you like sex? You like porn? What the fuck is wrong with you??? That's impossible."
And all the comments I read about playboyy are exactly the same just in different fonts. Ew sex. Ew kink. Ew porn. Ew sex work. Sex can't have storytelling, plot, it's just for shock value. We all read it.
And sadly it's a very accurate representation of the role sex plays in our society. Which - ironically - playboyy exactly is about.
Playboyy is a visual collection of all the experiences of lives and people in which sex plays a significant role - even the lack thereof (looking at you zouey and all you lovely aces).
It's a collection of very important social commentary, with all the characters, sets, plots and visuals as a medium. Because this way, the points they make come across even stronger and draw out all the emotions they want us to feel - which is in the rarest cases, pure arousal. Because this is, in fact, storytelling. Even if many don't want to hear it.
Telling stories about sex is so stigmatized and shunned, it only has the tiniest place to exist freely. Just like sex itself. Every sex worker, sex educator, sex therapist, everyone who has a profession that deals with sex will tell you about it. The shame. The misunderstanding. Look at the state of sex work and porn in the world. It tells you everything you need to know.
And it's happening in the middle of the "modern" western society - Yes I'm talking about you, UK and I can't not plug this here:
*btw I am not a sex worker I'm just very passionate about letting people not just live their lives but giving them a CHOICE to do what they want or don't want to do
I existed in this tiny place for decades now and I got really comfortable in my tiny lil corner, but to see a show like this go "mainstream" talking about all the topics that tickle all the knowledge I collected over the years feels so amazing. And I can tell you, all you lil smartass purists, everyone involved in this show doesn't care an inch what you think, just like me. We're used to it, believe me.
I could go on for ages about how carefully all these topics of the show are treated but what I actually want to say is that I find it incredibly ironic that a show that depicts the struggles and stigmas about sex, exactly draws out the reactions and treatments it criticises.
If you don't want to join in on the fun, that's totally fine. I get that it's not for everyone (just like sex, he). But treating it as a piece of trash just because it's a thing you personally find icky is exactly the reason the issues Playboyy talks about exist in the first place. Hence you can thank your stuck-up ass yourself that debauched individuals like me get a gem like this to enjoy.
And the fact that it didn't just find a crew, but also the funding and the mainstream distribution proves that I'm not alone in this.
It's not my lonely little corner anymore and I'm absolutely thriving on that. Cry about it.
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euovennia · 1 year
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I am yet again requesting headcanons for the 141 (or whoever you want <3) with a reader who has an angry resting face. And to add onto that, they are very expressive with their love but it comes off as aggressive (not on purpose) because they always look, you know, mad. Like when reader says "I love you," it sounds like a threat and really, they look like they wanna kill them, but they don’t.
whew, i'm so sorry for the wait on this! i took a small break from tumblr so i could focus on finishing some assignments i had for my classes, but they're all completed and turned in so i should be good for now! also i wasn't 100% sure if you wanted this to be platonic or romantic, so i tried to write it to where it could be interpreted as both. thank you for requesting and, as always, i hope you enjoy :)
warnings: none other than the fact that i don't know how to stop myself from typing more than i need to
summary: the 141 learns to adjust to life with their newest recruit; you.
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john 'soap' mactavish
when price first introduces you to the group, he can't help but feel like he's done something wrong
and honestly no one can really blame him for feeling that way
the expression that paints your face when you make eye contact with him practically screams, "sleep with one eye open"
and while it is mildly terrifying, he only sees it as a challenge
because in his mind, if he can get the mighty ghost to warm up to him, he can get anyone to warm up to him
so as soon as price cuts you loose from the brief introductions, he's already right by your side pestering you with various questions
and while it was a bit off-putting, you weren't really surprised because price had already told you all about soap before he decided he wanted you on his team
so you just kinda stood there and let him fire off his questions while answering them with that angry expression and bored monotone voice that he can't help but love
like you're standing there, arms crossed with perhaps one of the most pissed off expressions he's ever seen in his life but all his mind can think is >:(
needless to say, he doesn't take your prickly exterior too seriously and it's because of this he's able to get closer to you a lot quicker than the other members do
and it's because of this he tends to vouch for you a lot more to the other members when it comes to getting to know you
"they're not that bad, i swear!"
"johnny, they look like they wanna rip your arm off every time you're near them."
"but they don't, that's the funny part!"
best believe this man is fighting for his life whenever your rbf gets brought into the conversation
and i imagine that one day you actually manage to overhear one of these little debates/conversations (tbh they could go either way with how divided they can be over it, especially when it's gaz vs soap)
and you can't just ignore the way your heart warms as you hear soap valiantly defend your honor
it's one of the few times you're genuinely thankful for his big mouth
after listening in to the conversation for a few more minutes you eventually decide to walk away, heart full and the smallest of smiles pulling at the edge of your lips
i think it goes without saying that you go a little sweet on him after that encounter
well
as sweet as you can go when you're the human embodiment of >:(
at least in the opinion of soap
you don't really see the resemblance tbh
anyway
you start doing little things for him
things like offering to take watch for him when you're both on a mission because you noticed that he hadn't really bothered getting any rest
sitting by his side and letting him ramble on about his family, especially how he always begged his parents to let him stay with his nan over the summer because she owned a little family farm that he absolutely loved to run around on
and even the time you learned how to make scotch pie using his mom's recipe he had tucked away in his room
no matter how much he may deny it, that last one had him tearing up as soon as he took a bite
but honestly, can you blame him?
the man barely gets to visit his parents back home because of his work and it crushes him
honestly, it was probably one of the first few things he confided in you when you first started talking
so naturally when price announces that the 141 has been approved for a two week leave, you don't hesitate in logging onto the computer and buying him the first tickets back to scotland
what you do hesitate with is actually giving them to him
so you decide to gloss over that part completely and instead opt for shoving the tickets inside an plain envelope with his name scribbled on the front and a small note that simply reads, "go." before sliding it under his door the night before everyone is scheduled to depart from base
the moment soap gets his hands on those tickets he can't help the way he runs through the halls and bursts into your room to give you the biggest hug you've ever had in your life
unfortunately for you both, you'd already left base by the time he discovered the tickets
and so with a heavy heart, soap makes his way back to his room before packing his bags with a new vigor
the plane leaves in six hours, but he's so excited he can't help but want to arrive early
needless to say those are probably the best two weeks of his life
and while the others are interested in hearing all about his trip, he simply brushes them off in favor watching the door so he can be there for the exact moment you walk in
and after making him wait more than what he felt was necessary, you finally walk in
and this man
the way he shoots up from his seat and runs over to hug you
it's almost enough to send you both flying to the ground
but luckily you've got some stellar balance and manage to save yourselves from being teased by the rest of the team
but with the way soap is squeezing onto you while repeatedly whispering, "thank you," into the nape of your neck, you don't doubt they'll make fun of you for that
even with the mild embarrassment you feel, you simply wrap your arms around the scottish man and offer him a few pats on the back
and as sweet as it is for the other men to witness such a tender scene, they can't help but notice how upset you look
it's almost laughable
and as much as they want to step in and tell soap to back off, they can't help but notice the way you cling onto soap with that soft look in your eyes
so they remain quiet as you and soap hang onto each other, hearts full of warmth
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kyle 'gaz' garrick
i'm gonna say it now
out of anyone in the 141, he was probably the one most intimidated by you
he's the youngest out of everyone and so it stands that, naturally, he has less experience than others
it's for this reason i think he's so keen on staying close to price
i mean the man practically plucked him off the streets and said, "you're mine now," so i think it's reasonable that gaz grows a tad more attached to price than the other members
so when he catches a few glimpses of you around base barking orders at the recruits and slamming them into the mats during sparring sessions, he's not exactly dying to meet you
even so, he finds he's not too worried about the possibility
with how often the 141 departs base to go on various missions and how you always seem to be too caught up in whatever you're doing at the time to be bothered to even glance his way, he eventually comes to the conclusion that you'll never meet
until one day price strolls into the common area where he and the rest of the team are minding their own business with you trailing right beside him looking aggravated as ever
he's already a bit uneasy with the fact you now know where the team goes to relax, but that unease slowly shifts to downright horror when price reveals that you're the newest member of the team
now gaz is usually a pretty easygoing and friendly guy so any chance to meet and bond with new people is always bound to be a good time in his book
but he can't help the shiver that crawls up his spine whenever you're around
seriously, who or what made you look so pissed off all the time?
anyway
because he's so hesitant of being around you, he tries his hardest not to bother you
which basically means he tries not to be in the same room as you
and while you may not really notice or care, the rest of the team certainly does
especially price
he's the type of man who prides himself on having a team that knows they can all rely on one another on and off the field and so he'll be damned if you and gaz are the ones to ruin his little streak
so guess who gets assigned to accompany you and the recruits on your morning workouts from now on?
gaz!
and while he's not necessarily thrilled about the idea of being forced into such close proximity to you, especially first thing in the morning, he respects price enough to not question his decision and just ends up going along with it
and at first he doesn't really pay you much attention in an effort to not do anything to accidentally make you even more upset than he already assumes you are
but then he starts to notice something
he notices the way the recruits light up whenever they see you, whether it be during the morning workout sessions or when you're walking around base
and it baffles him because you just look so upset, he can't possibly imagine why they're all so keen on sending you wide smiles or enthusiastic waves
but one day he looks just a little bit closer and he can see the faintest hint of amusement on your face as your lips showcase the ghost of a smile
that's when he really starts to pay attention
and suddenly he can't help but feel a little ashamed of himself
because now he can practically feel his heart melt every time you interact with the recruits
like how you would bring extra ice-cold water bottles to the morning workouts for the recruits who'd forget to bring their own
or the way you wouldn't hesitate to slide them some money if they mentioned being hungry while you were around
and especially how you don't hesitate to lend an ear for them if they seemed to be troubled by something
it's in those few little moments that he can see just the tiniest cracks through your annoyed expression and heated glares
you're not angry at all, he decides, just real shit at expressing yourself
and upon deciding this, he realizes you're not so scary anymore
so now instead of avoiding you like the plague, he actively seeks you out
at first it's to help you out with carrying the extra water bottles for the recruits in the morning and planning the workouts for the week
but then it turns into him asking to sit with you at the mess hall over dinner and keeping each other company in the commons area
and as much as he tries not to, he can't help the giddiness that floods his body when you start to show him that aggressive love he sees you dish out to the recruits
shoving snacks into his hands when you notice he hasn't eaten in a while
quietly sitting with him while he goes through paperwork because you both know he has a tendency to get distracted
and his personal favorite, draping your jacket over him when you walk in on him sleeping anywhere that isn't his room
he always wakes up with a smile tugging on his lips
and despite how cold and distant you may look while doing these things, he doesn't give it much attention anymore
not when he can see the love and care that's reflected in your eyes
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simon 'ghost' riley
despite you and ghost having similar exteriors, it becomes more and more apparent to gaz and soap that you're actually quite different
which isn't a bad thing, of course! just a bit unexpected
but it's because of this striking difference that you and simon tend to keep a majority of your interactions on the field
and you both are more than happy to keep it this way
gaz and soap however, are not
so naturally they put together a plan; a plan that consists of soap giving you his most treasured tactical pen so you can use it to write away in that little journal of yours on the ride back from missions just so he can later "confront" ghost and admonish him for stealing said pen
and during all this, gaz simply remains on the sidelines just looking pretty
anyway
after laying into simon for a good ten minutes, soap walks away from the encounter with a small smile before walking up to gaz and saying something like, "now we wait"
and they do wait
patiently
but after a full two weeks pass by and neither gaz or soap can find any evidence of their so called "master plan" working, they can't help but feel a little discouraged
unbeknownst to them, it totally worked
just not in the way they envisioned
you see, by the time soap came up to simon to lecture him about stealing his pen, ghost had already come to notice you scribbling into your notebook with it
so once soap had finally decided to leave him alone, he immediately confronted you about framing him for such a crime
but you just kinda stare up at him with that annoyed look of yours before revealing soap had willingly given it to you
and things just kinda click into place for the two of you; soap wanted to get you talking
and while you and simon had to admit it wasn't a bad plan, you didn't want to give the scotsman the satisfaction of knowing it had actually worked
so whenever you and simon find yourselves in the company of the rest of the team, you decide to remain distant
but when it's just the two of you?
you're straight chilling
especially when you visit him in his room or vice versa
like just imagine the two of you drinking tea that simon was nice enough to make and watching war movies while bashing all the inaccuracies and bad calls the characters make
or when the two of you are out and about on base free from the prying eyes of gaz and soap because they're out doing their own thing
you and simon love finding random groups of rowdy soldiers just to intimidate them
i don't know about you, but i can definitely see simon just standing there with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed while you rest your hands on your hips with your lips pulled into a frown
price definitely gets complaints about the two of you
he does nothing about them
and for a while that's pretty much the gist of how you and simon spend your time together
but i like to imagine that after a particularly rough mission, simon would seek you out just to sit with you
and i can see him as a stress smoker so when he finally does manage to find you and take a seat beside you, you slide him a pack of cigarettes and a lighter
he doesn't ask how you know his cigarette preference, but instead gives you a small nod of approval before pulling up his mask over lips and taking a drag
and that's how you spend your night
just sitting beside each other as you watch the evening sky gradually begin to fill with stars
i think it would depend on how bad the mission went in order to determine exactly how long the two of you stay sitting under the stars, but it doesn't matter because it'll end the same way; you reaching over and giving simon's hand a quick squeeze with a small, "get some sleep, simon. you need it," before you walk away
and he finds himself confused to two reasons
reason one: why did you grab his hand why did he like it?
reason two: how can you say such sweet words but still look so mad?
as much as he wants to play that moment over in his head just to make sure he was remembering things right, he decides against it in favor of heeding your words and getting some sleep
but it's after that moment he can't help but notice how your mannerisms have changed
not only are your words of reassurance more apparent than before, he's also noticed you have a tendency to give his hand/shoulder a reassuring squeeze every now and then
he can't help the small smile that threatens to pull at his lips when you do
but he also can't help but notice how distant and reserved your face looks when you do all of these things
he doesn't really mind it though
but he eventually does bring it up to you one day
it's probably after he tells you one of his god awful dad jokes
like he'll look over at you and notice your sour expression and say something like, "don't look so pissed, they're not that bad."
and you'll respond with a tilt of your head as you tell him, "i'm not pissed. i like your jokes."
then he'll nudge your shoulder before telling you, "with that face? coulda fooled me."
and you'll roll your eyes in faux annoyance as you brush him off with a simple, "that's just my face."
and then he'll look down at you, thankful for his mask so you can't see the small smile making its way onto his face
he might even say something dumb and cheesy like, "i know. i like it."
and you give him one of your rare smiles
and i could end it there and say the two of you are bffs
or i could sprinkle in something about soap running up on the two of you chanting, "my plan worked, my plan worked!"
that's for you to decide
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