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#its colors really grew on me
nashvillethotchicken · 3 months
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I wish there were more black people who were into iwtv so I can talk about how Louis's class and race interests intersected
#iwtv#amc iwtv#iwtv 2022#its so crazy cus hes from a rich lightskin family in new orleans#like he says hed be a free man of color (not black) if not for jim crow#the intraracial dynamics of new orleans pre-1970 is so genuinely interesting to me and we never get to really get into them bc louis spends#all his time with white/nonblack people and when he is with his black daughter its different bc theyre so isolated from the great black com#like louis was absolutely in jack n jill as a kid. hed be in a blue vein society. hed be an alpha based off his name alone like#hes the black bourgeois class and its so crazy that people say hes middle class in fanworks like no babe. they had darkskin servants#i think it also stems from people relating blackness to poorness. ldpdl is not poor in any sense of the word#he inherented a literal plantation!!!! but because hes black people downplay his class interests (except for other black people)#yknow who really was poor? lestat! like eating syrup sandwiches with the lights and water cut off by the city poor#and yet people act like he grew up hyper rich in fanworks and its like... thats not what happened#you can talk about how jim crow and white supremacy squashed/manipulated the black elite class in nola while acknowledging louis' class#like they both came into the relationship with money (louis' money might have been shorter than lestats#but they still had money)#ldpdl#like i would even wager that louis family dont even consider themselves black like that#cus blackness is defined by whiteness and since louis spends all his time with white people bc of his business hes treated as and sees him-#self as black in a way that his family isnt. theyre only black when theyre made black if that makes sense#theyre black when white people are around
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It's 4am and I cannot go to sleep because I have half an hour left in my book, and it's a murder mystery, and I need answers
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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...
#ay ay ay. now that the soul crushing project is done ive elected to spend the week managing data#which is decidedly more chill than what ive been doing for the last month but also isnt not doing anything and it isnt getting stuff done#for when i have to move. so thats annoying. and ive been drawing again at least but i can feel the escalation in my controlling behavior#so its now very frustrating trying to draw anything. coloring is gonna take a million years rip.#also suddenly everyone wants to b social rn? like tomorrow my boss is organizing a thing with an old lab mate and this weekend a#collaborator is having a retirement party. and next week my lab mates wanna do a trivia night. and i kno that i should go to these things.#and i will try but i really dont want to go to any of it. mostly for driving reasons but also im a husk of a person rn. but the more#devastating thing is that uh next week one of the kids i grew up with is getting married to a rich girl lol. and like we werent that close#bc i was and am such an asocial freak but after the wedding my parents r picking up their new camper and camping their way across the#country with my sisters. and im sure someone probably told me the dates of these things at some point but if u tell me dates i will#instantly forget them. so thats. ya kno. happening over basically the next 2 weeks while i have to kill myself over measurements for a#different study i dont care abt. and like. its fine. ill see them mid may for a different planned trip. it just makes me kinda sad#a product of living halfway across the country i guess. im just inherently more disconnected to everyone. i would suspect thsts semi#intentional subconsciously. u cant b upset abt not being able to connect with ppl if you create enough physical distance that u never see#them in the 1st place. u cant misunderstand me if i make myself absent and unknowable. idk. i was explaining to my mum that i didnt realize#the timeline and she was like. understandable whatever u wanna do! and idk y that upsets me so much. i guess its just that i dont want to b#doing this. its causing me pain but dont kno how to articulate it in a way that makes sense. whatever. my mouth hurts. my lips r so chapped#that the irritation is spread past my lip line. probably doesnt help thst i keep rubbing at it lol. anyway things r still annoying#less soul crushing thsn last week but still frustrating#unrelated
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onlygodknowsimgood · 6 months
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When I was young, I never really understood my parents insistence to only use olive oil imported from Palestine. It took a long time and a great distance in a process that was neither cheap nor convenient. The oil came in old beat-up containers that did not look appealing to me at all. In my head, if they wanted to support distant family back home, they could just send them money and save us and them a big hassle. We could just use the nice looking olive oil containers from the nearby store. Yet, this was never an option in our household. The only olive oil we used at home was from Palestine.
‎As I grew up and started a student part-time job, I worked with olive oil a little. I knew all about olive oil imported from Spain, Italy, and other countries. I knew which ones were better and more expensive. I also learned to tell, based on the pungent taste, which ones were extra virgin. I was tempted to use my employee discount to bring home one of the fancy bottles and use at our kitchen. I could not get myself to do it, and I did not exactly know why. I felt like it would be disrespectful to my parents even if it didn’t make sense to me. It did not feel right. It was not an option.
‎After living in Palestine for a year during the olive picking season, something changed. The olive picking season in Palestine is holy.
‎Palestinians relate to the weather based on how it would benefit or harm the olives. There is well-known unspoken rule about treating olive trees with respect. There is a day off from work just to pick olives. On public transportation, it is not unusual to hear someone on the phone telling their friend to stop by for their share of this year’s olive oil stored in what used to be a Coca-Cola or a liquor bottle. A driver will stop in the middle of the way to give his brother- in- law a jar of olives that are so close to one another that they start to crush showing their insides.
‎In Nablus, the owner of the Nabulsi soap factory takes pride in how picky he is about getting his olive oil. He insists on filling a cup to let me smell how authentic it is and smirks as he sees my diasporic facial expressions transform in appreciation of its strong smell running through all of my brain cells.
‎I started noticing how olive oil is an essential part of so many dishes. “Palestinians drink more olive oil than water” I would jokingly say and they would laugh in agreement. Olive oil is truly an everyday ritual.
‎They fantasize about its color when it’s fresh and remind me that it starts to change as it reacts with oxygen over time. They dip their bread into olive oil, just like that and without any additions, and enjoy it more than the sweetest of all foods. I can guarantee that every lunch invitation (عزومة) I received during the olive-picking season was a chance for my hosts to share their olive oil using Msakhan (a traditional Palestinian dish).
‎I now have a deeper understanding of the psychology behind the burning of olive trees by Israeli soldiers and why farmers moan at the scene as if they lost a loved one.
‎Wherever you are, if it’s accessible to you, make sure your olive oil is Palestinian. Your ancestors would want that.
- Dima Seelawi
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the-tubort · 10 months
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Once again reminded that there are people who really don't like TV Nihon subs meanwhile im sitting here twiddling my thumbs like: hehe lights and colors and subtitles that makes sense to my brain hehe
Like don't get me wrong overtime does a great job not saying that they don't since both tv-n and o-t in the past used the r slur and other bad choices which was just typical for fan subs but I just tend to prefer how tv-n/anon has more of a direct translation style than o-t's style
Honestly I wouldn't necessarily recommend one over the other I just go with whichever is available to me in the Google drive for sentai and whichever one internet archive gives me for kamen rider which did unfortunately give me r slur ooo first before I found tv-n version with no r slur as of yet
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yzzart · 5 months
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Love your Tom blyth fics an unhealthy amount!!! I’m picturing reader and Tom being all lovey dovey at the premiers but playing it off as really good bestfriends UNTIL she goes to kiss him on the cheek and in instinct he turns his head to kiss her on the lips so they just say fuck it and hard launch there and then x
"An unplanned situation."
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader
summary: a small gesture, with a sweet intention, revealed a promising secret.
word count: 1.359!
notes: i started this request in the morning and only had the opportunity to finish it a few minutes ago, forgive me for that, anon! — i hope you like it and of course, feel free to share ideas with me!
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"Y/N, look here!"
Another request, among others, screams and countless flashes, was directed to you; being, theoretically, almost impossible to identify who had demanded your image. — There were so many voices mixing, not to mention the music in the background, but, you tried your best to pay attention to most of the cameras.
However, it wasn't anything you weren't used to; something that has already been normalized in your life.— And during the premiere of The ballad of songbirds and snake it was no different, and it was splendid; simply perfect. — Not to mention, the feeling of gratitude that grew in your chest.
Cameras and cell phones captured your every movement, your poses and the way your perfectly chosen dress was valued and highlighted on your body. — And how it matched the color palette of the film. — Everything was being recorded, at the exact moment, posted and commented on all social networks.
You had the opportunity to meet, talk and take photos with some of the cast. — It was so pleasant, the company and unity that everyone developed during the filming of the film was inexplicable and so adorable; you were grateful to have worked with so many talented people. — There were some people who were absent, until now, in your eyes, but you would definitely meet them again on the carpet.
And, of course, your eyes roamed the decorated room, matching the elements of the film, and crowded in search of a specific person. — It wasn't exaggerated words to say that you were starting to feel uncomfortable because he was missed; and the cameras recorded it. — Silent questions, which would be written, formed in the minds of the presenters and photographers.
Your boyfriend had yet to appear on the red carpet; perhaps he is giving a quick and curious interview or greeting someone. — That's what was going on in your head.
You and Tom had a secret relationship, ever since you met behind the scenes, in front of the world and all the cameras that may exist in it; something that was so risky and at the same time adventurous. — And that, as incredible as it might seem, you knew how to disguise it in front of your fans; even though they gradually became suspicious with comments, interactions and behind-the-scenes photos.
They were either smart or you and Tom were too far over the line. — This question was not important or essential for the moment. — And you considered each other best friends for interviews or responses to comments; you tried your best.
And so, Rachel sent countless screenshots of tweets, which talked about or mentioned the relationship between you and Tom, to you. — It's impossible to deny how funny it was.
Persisting in continuing to look for him and for a few seconds, your eyes meet his blue and so charming irises. — Its shade of blue was a magnificent and beautiful combination; something you would never get tired of admiring. —And there was no other thing, or anyone, that could take his eyes off you.
As if the only thing that mattered at that moment was you. — And everything around him simply disappeared.
"There you are!" — Tom walked towards you, easily as there weren't so many people on the carpet, and an enthusiastic smile forming on his lips; also accompanied by cameras and intense flashes. — "And so beautiful!"
Holding a part of your long and dazzling dress so as not to hinder your steps, you met him, and without wasting any time, hugged him. — A common gesture, and not so different or strange, for the spectators; so, you thought. — Tom's arms went around your waist, holding your protectively for a little while, while your arms positioned themselves around his neck.
Tom's fragrance, which you liked so much, filled your nose; it felt so good, and you felt your eyes weaken, contaminated by it. — And the british man was aware of that.
"You look perfect, always." — The older man distanced himself, just a little, and brought his face closer to your ear, wanting only you to hear. — "The most beautiful woman that has ever crossed my eyes." — The lenses probably captured a reddish pigmentation on your cheeks and it was not part of your makeup.
You placed one of your hands on his chest, and looking directly into his eyes; that shone at you, and it wasn't just because of the influence of the lights in your direction. — Tom's gaze was sincere, and passionate, intensely fascinating you. — He conveyed what he felt most with just his eyes.
And that was one of the facts about him that you were passionate about and recognized very well.
"Oh, shut up!" — Raising your hand and resting it a little away from your mouth, you laughed a little embarrassed and looked back at the cameras; remembering that they remained there and you knew that later you would see your interaction with Tom on some social media.
Again, a thing and situation you were used to.
"Look at that camera!" — A voice mingled among others, which requested the same request, asking you to take some photos together; something that would feed news, fans and press.
At no point, minute or second, did you and Tom remain distant or apart from each other; always a few steps close, hugging each other for photos and certain looks, completely indiscreet. — Even during brief interviews, as Blyth mentioned you or your character's work, you were silently watching. — One of the interviewers even commented on how cute she thought it was.
Tom's hand was on your waist, holding and almost covering you, making a quick caress in a few seconds and one of your hands was still resting on his chest; and you continued, of course, to be the focus of the cameras.
Quickly, with the intention of changing your pose and trying something new and also to take advantage of the fact that Blyth's face was almost close to yours, you decide to place your pigmented lips on his cheeks. — Such a cute and friendly gesture, and so common. —But, automatically and hastily, Tom turned his face away at the same time, without having in mind what you were, in fact, planning. — God, it was a shock; an absurd and completely intense shock.
For the first time that night, in that place and on those cameras, your lips touched Tom's lips. — It was very quick, good and surprising; and that definitely left a cold, freezing air in your belly accompanied by a desperate feeling in your mind. — Rumor has it that smoke was coming out of his head. — It was a peck, a quick and simple kiss.
When you separated, hurriedly, your eyes met Tom's once again; who were a little wide-eyed, expressing surprise. — Looking for something to say or do, just like you. — And you watched his lips curve into an almost smile, as if he was trapping him.
Shouts of enthusiasm and some possible whistles echoed throughout the immense place, along with some looks and expressions of surprise at what had happened. — And some people were worried if they had recorded the exact moment, of course. — Your fans were probably commenting frantically about what happened.
You really didn't know what to do but at no point did you move away from your boyfriend — now, official to the public — and keep your hand on his chest; as if it were, in fact, planned.
"A nice way to reveal it, huh?" — Tom laughed, relaxed and without a feeling of discomfort or uneasiness, he still had his hand on your waist; and he still squeezed you, then leaving you with another caress. — "I think." — He didn't look at the cameras, his orbits focused only on you.
They have always focused on you, regardless of what is actually happening; and that will never change.
"A nice way to reveal." — You repeated your words, but, as an affirmation and certainty; maybe, seeing how relieved Tom was, and not showing some kind of distress, your chest calmed down and you felt safe.
And soon, you and Tom became one of the most talked about topics on social media.
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assassinsblade · 4 months
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Heavy Weather
In which yours and Azriel’s mission is disrupted by a major inconvenience: your cycle.
WC: 4.1k
Warnings: Nothing really, just fluff and period stuff!
—————-
Gods, it was cold.
The snow fell down in sheets, covering the forest floor and soaking into your leathers. Azriel was trekking about twenty feet in front of you, eyes scouring the area, although his grip was loose around Truth Teller at his side.
“The Winter Court…” you grouched, mimicking your high lord. “Why couldn’t it have been Day Court. Or Autumn.”
Azriel chuckled. “You wanna spend time with Helion and Eris? I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
The air in front of you steamed as you let out an exhausted breath. You both had been pushing through this snow for hours. You couldn’t even remember what you were looking for at this point. You had only been there for about ten hours, and a little into the cold wilderness, you found your brain becoming foggy and your body fatigued. You really needed a blanket and sleep.
“Helion would never let me freeze. He likes body heat too much. And Eris has fire powers.”
“Something tells me Eris wouldn’t be too keen on helping.”
You shrugged, lifting your foot to step over a snow-covered log. “He’s always been fine to me.”
A muscle in Azriel's jaw jumped, his wings going tight against his back. You could barely make out the pink coloring of his mouth through the snowfall. “I don’t trust him,” he said. “Not after Mor, and not with you.”
“So dramatic.” You attempted to ease the tension in the air at your mention of the soon-to-be High Lord of the Autumn Court.
“I’m dramatic? You live in the Night Court and suddenly you act like snow is going to kill you.”
You did feel like it was going to kill you. You didn’t know what had you so exhausted, why the snow seemed to be soaking through your clothes and seeping its way straight into your bones. You had slept okay last night, hadn’t you? You were wearing weather-appropriate clothing. You had done enough training and exercise that this hike shouldn’t be wearing you down this much.
You hadn’t realized that Azriel had turned around to look at you, stopping in his tracks as he waited for you to catch up.
“Are you actually okay?” His voice was more serious this time, less teasing.
Giving him a nod, you focused on putting one foot in front of the other. “Yeah. Let’s just make shelter somewhere soon. I really am cold.”
He nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. You didn’t blame him, you must have looked pathetic. Your teeth were chattering so loud the same spies you came to the Winter Court to track would no doubt be able to hear you if close. Your body felt like you had weights pulling you down under the earth, with each step comparable to trudging through quicksand. And you just felt off - like you could pass out or throw up at any moment.
Azriel waited until you were by his side once again before continuing to move.
“There’s an abandoned cabin not too far from here. We’ll camp there for the night, get you some rest. Maybe a blanket or two.”
The wind burnt your cheeks as you tilted you head to look at him. He seemed completely unaffected. In fact, it was as if he was taking a stroll through the Summer Court, right along the water, basking in the breeze.
“How are you not freezing?”
His lips quirked up at your angry tone. “Believe it or not, Sunshine, I grew up in the snowy Illyrian mountains.”
You nodded, only half-hearing his response. And then your feet were stumbling over one another, and Azriel had to reach out quickly to prevent you from falling.
“Not too far now,” he reassured. But he kept his hand on your leathers the rest of the way to the cabin, monitoring your movements and ensuring you wouldn’t just topple over. Every so often, you felt him look over at you, as if he didn’t trust his hand and wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen behind again.
It felt like hours before the rickety structure came into view, and by that point, you truly knew something was wrong with you. Had you been poisoned at some point during the trip? Were you sick? You didn’t think you’d ever been sick in your entire life as fae.
Once you were at the landing of the cabin, you realized Azriel had been supporting your weight much more than you had intended or thought. His entire forearm was supporting your back now, pushing you forward until you crossed the threshold into the enclosed space.
You heard the door shut tightly behind you, sucking the sound of the wind out with it. In the silence, you nearly collapsed.
There wasn’t much time to take in your surroundings. You briefly saw a couch, a kitchen area, and a fireplace. There was probably a bathroom down the hall, maybe a bed if you were lucky. Your thoughts didn’t go past that though as you stumbled for the sofa.
Azriel watched as you fell into it, your head tipping back and eyes scrunching closed. You tried to school your features into something less uncomfortable, but you doubted it was convincing.
“I’ll get a fire going.”
You heard his footsteps move toward the fireplace, the scuffling of movements as wood was moved from the keep to the hearth. However, despite his action to get the cabin warm for you, you could still feel his eyes drifting toward the couch intermittently.
Wood began cracking, a light forming in the corner of your vision. Still cold, still weak, you tried to breathe steadily.
You were about to say something to distract Azriel from your odd behavior when you felt fabric being laid over your body. Your hands automatically went to grip the blanket, pulling it up to your chin weakly before peeking your eyes open.
Azriel was already moving away from the couch, but he didn’t leave the room before muttering a quiet, “Get some sleep.”
Sleep, unfortunately, did not come easy to you. You alternated between feeling like you were going to vomit and feeling like you were being stabbed. Your muscles ached, and it seemed to take all of your energy to rise your chest in a breath.
You tried to focus on the fire, on the way sparks flew from the wood, briefly illuminating the dark stone. The warmth of the flames was drifting toward the couch now, and you tried to adjust your body to move closer to it.
In your movement, though, you noticed the way your damp clothes felt different against your skin. The snow had soaked into the fabric, but the feeling you recognized in your core at your movement toward the fireplace had you nearly whimpering.
Azriel was there before you could make it fully off the couch, reaching his hands out to catch you from falling.
“What are you doing?”
“I- I need to-“
“-Lay down,” he interrupted. “Rest.”
You tried to breathe through the pain. Your vision was becoming blurry with each stab through your abdomen, and you honestly did not understand how you missed your symptoms earlier.
“I can’t, Azriel… I need-“
“-I know.” He gently guided you back onto the couch, hands pulling the blanket over you once again. “I know. Just breathe. I’ll be right back.”
Did he know? Could he sense it now? Could he smell the blood? Recognize the symptoms too?
There wasn't time to be embarrassed because he was gone again quickly, and you couldn’t help the tears that escaped at the pain running through your body.
When you had first met Feyre and she had told you the difference between fae and human cycles, you had nearly cursed the Mother for torturing your kind. You had been literally stabbed before, beaten, and burned, and nothing compared to the pain of your cycle.
“Here,” Azriel said, reappearing before you. He laid some sort of steaming broth he must have found in a cupboard on the table in front of you, along with some torn pieces of cloth, presumably from a towel found in the rest of the house.
You looked at the items, tears blurring your eyes again. You felt like you couldn’t move, everything ached, everything hurt, everything felt wrong-
“I need help,” you got out through your tears, your voice sounding weak even to yourself.
“Okay.” Azriel nodded. “That’s okay.”
He gripped under your legs and behind your back, pulling you up until you were on the edge of the couch. "I have changes of clothes for us in my bag. Do you want me to help you to the bathroom?”
You nodded, too embarrassed to look at him. Azriel didn’t say a word though, instead grabbing a few of the pieces of cloth, his bag off the ground, and scooped you up into his arms.
He walked you both to the bathroom, and you kept your face buried close to his chest both so you wouldn’t have to see if you got anything on the couch and so that Azriel wouldn’t see the redness in your cheeks.
When he entered the bathroom, he set you onto the counter before setting the supplies down. From his bag, he pulled out the extra pair of underwear, pants, bra, and shirt you had packed for yourself.
“Do you want to wash off?” He asked genuinely, glimpsing over his shoulder at the antique bathtub.
Did you want to be clean? Absolutely. But your entire body felt like it was going to fall through the floor, weighed down with aches, pain, and exhaustion. You weren’t even sure you could get your arms to move enough to scrub yourself clean.
You whimpered at your inability to do what you needed, at how weak you felt, and the frustration that coursed through your veins.
"Hey, it's okay." Azriel brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, bringing your eyes to meet his own. "What do you need? What can I do?"
You just shook your head, face flushing red. "I can't ask you to help me with this."
Because this was embarrassing and some males thought it was weak and gross and something to be kept taboo. You were quite literally bleeding through your leathers, with your abdomen, back, and legs all twisting and cramping in pain, heat scouring your body, and you felt like a little kid again -- needing to be taken care of, unable to do the basic task of looking after yourself. It was humiliating, but especially in front of Azriel of all people. Someone so composed, so strong.
It wasn't as if your friends didn't know about your cycle or what you female fae went through. On the contrary, they always offered to help where they could. If you missed out on training because of your cycle, Cassian would always bring up some tonics or some extra food and water to make sure you were okay. A few cycles that were particularly bad had Rhys sending after Madja, and Azriel rushing when he heard. He was the one who had advocated for Madja to give you some sleeping tonics to help you sleep through the pain instead of withstanding it.
But here? On a mission? This was too much.
"Why not?" Azriel's question brought you back to the present. He looked genuinely confused, his brows furrowing slightly.
"Azriel..." you pleaded with his questioning, arms wrapping around your stomach as pain hit you again. You swayed slightly on the counter, Azriel's hands dropping from your face to your waist to steady you.
"You're in pain." His voice was serious, and you wanted to hide your face in his chest. "Let me help you. I don't like seeing you like this."
You swallowed, trying to reign in your shame and embarrassment. It wasn't a big deal, you told yourself. This was natural. And Azriel is over five hundred years old, surely he's seen and dealt with cycles and all they entail before. It doesn't have to make a difference being yours.
"Okay," you whispered. "Could you- could you uh, help me wash off? I don't think I can..."
He didn't make you finish your sentence once he realized you didn't know how to explain your own weakness at the moment. He just nodded, bringing his hands to your arms and rubbing up and down comfortingly.
"Of course."
You nodded, more-so reassuring yourself that this was okay. He was okay. Right? He'd say if he was uncomfortable?
Azriel turned and twisted the faucet to the bathtub, fingers resting under the water that came out until he found the temperature pleasing. The water was clear, thankfully, and the tub looked clean as well.
Once that was filling, he turned to the cabinets you were seated on, bending down and looking through them for any kind of soap and towels. Finding the supplies he was looking for, he set them by the edge of the tub and turned to where you were sitting.
"Arms up?"
His question was hesitant, asking more than if you needed help. Did you want to completely undress? Were you comfortable with him seeing you like this?
You lifted your arms, the weight of your limbs feeling heavy. You wanted to throw up, to go to sleep, to cry.
Azriel's gentle hands moved the fabric up your torso, keeping his touch to the clothing only. Once it was free from your form, you nodded at him to keep going.
He grasped your hips and lifted you to stand, holding onto the majority of your weight when you seemed unstable. His hands gripped your own and brought them to his own torso.
"Hold onto me."
And you did, allowing yourself to lean into his strong form as he unbuttoned your snow-soaked pants and began to pull them down. You rested your head on his chest, turning your face into him to hide your embarrassment at the blood that no doubt coated your pants and your middle.
Tears pricked your eyes at how vulnerable this all was, but you blinked them away as Azriel backed up, your bare form now before him.
His casual look over you wasn't one of lust or desire but of care and concern. He was looking for injuries, hypothermia, anything that would need immediate attention before the bath. When he was satisfied, his gentle touch led you to the edge of the tub, grasping your forearm and helping you ease into the water.
You sank low into the heat, releasing a breath you hadn't known you had been holding from your cramps.
Azriel seemed to notice how you had been holding your breath too. He brought a hand up to push some of the sweat-slicked hair back from your forehead. "Make sure you're breathing, sweetheart."
You nod, closing your eyes and trying to relax through the stabbing in your back.
You could hear the soap bottle cap opening, the sound of liquid meeting a hand, and scrubbing. Peeking an eye open, you see Azriel getting his hands wet and reaching for one of your arms.
"Is this okay?" He asked.
Your heart thumped in your chest. He was too good for you. Better than any male you had ever met.
"Yes. Thank you." Your voice was small, weak in your state, but you both could hear the emotion in it.
"You don't have to thank me," Azriel responded, his hands moving up and down your arm softly before reaching for the other. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."
Humming in response, you sat up so he could help get your back. He was mindful of your comfort, sweeping over any vulnerable or inappropriate places lightly to ensure you were clean but never lingering.
While he washed, he told you stories of Rhys' sister. How when they were younger and she had gotten her first cycle, Rhys hadn't known what to do. None of them had. They thought she was dying, and Rhys' mother had to corral them together into the living room to get them to calm down and stop their panicking. He laughed at the story, and you couldn't help the relaxed giggles of your own.
"I can't imagine the stoic shadowsinger panicking over a girl's cycle."
His lips curved into a soft smile, eyes bright with adoration. "What do you think I'm doing now?"
You looked up at him, smiling. You couldn't believe how comfortable you felt, how normal this all felt. You were completely naked in front of him, completely bare to his touch while he sat clothed next to you, but it felt safe.
"You don't seem too panicked," you tried to tease.
He scoffed. "You should have seen me in the kitchen when we first got here. I was borderline scrambling."
You laughed, and he led you to a sitting position, stroking your back with his fingers lightly. "You ready to get out?"
At your confirmation, he scooped you up into his arms, no doubt getting water everywhere on the floor and also all over his own clothes. You squeaked in protest, but he didn't seem to care, only setting you back onto your feet and wrapping you up tightly in a towel.
Teeth chattering at the newfound cold outside of the bath, you gripped the towel around you, staring up into the bright hazel eyes of the male in front of you. He was still holding you tightly, eyes surveying your form. You wondered what he was thinking in this moment, but you wanted nothing more than to lean forward and let him keep holding you.
His hands moved with the towel, rubbing your arms before bringing the fabric down to your legs.
Right. You needed to get dressed.
"Here we go." Azriel grabbed your spare change of clothes, starting with your underwear. He took some of the makeshift pads he had created, placing one in the underwear before leaning down.
He looked up at you from his knees, and you wanted to frame the image. The sight of this angel, his dark hair messy from the snow, hazel eyes shining with care, on his knees for you, hands open to help take care of you. You wanted to jump on him, kiss him, and never let him stop touching you.
But this was Azriel, and he had never given you any inclination that was something he wanted.
You stepped into the fabric, allowing the shadowsinger to pull it up your legs. Once those were on, he bundled you up in your new shirt before holding the pants in front of you.
"Did you want to wait until we leave for these? They are leathers. I don't want you to be more uncomfortable just for the sake of feeling like you have to wear them."
"I'd rather not."
He nodded, setting them aside before wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you back to the couch.
You were feeling a little better now that you were clean and not bleeding down your legs, but you still felt drowsy and like someone was hacking your insides apart. On your way back, your knees nearly gave way with the pain of a particular cramp, and you couldn't help the cry that escaped with it.
Azriel caught you swiftly, hiking you back up into his arms.
When he laid you back onto the couch, now covered in blankets with even more on top of you, you looked up at the exhausted male. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he said. He sounded genuine, but you couldn't help but feel guilty.
You gritted your teeth through the pain, gripping your abdomen tightly. "I ruined this mission."
"Nothing has been ruined."
He walked over to the fireplace once you were settled, stoking the logs to get the fire rising again. "Well," he continued. "Except your pants."
You couldn't help but laugh, and the shadowsinger actually cracked a smile at the sound. But then you were grimacing, tears coming to your eyes and your breath hitching in your throat at your body's attack on itself.
Azriel frowned, hands twitching at his sides.
"We'll get ahold of Rhys," he reassured. "Get you to Madja."
You tried to breathe through it, knuckles white from gripping the blankets around you. You could hear his footsteps getting closer, feel his heat as he kneeled down next to the couch beside you, feel his strong hands unravel your fingers from the blanket and grip them in his own.
His other hand came up and slowly stroked your hair back, gently weaving his fingers through the strands. Your eyes fluttered shut at the gentle touch, despite how tightly you squeezed his hand.
"I'm okay," you tried to convince him. "It's just a cycle."
You weren't sure why you were trying to downplay your pain so much. Were you trying to come across stronger than you were? To impress him? Did you think he would truly find you weak?
"I've seen fae be out for a full week because of a cycle. Not eating or drinking, just trying to make it through... You don't have to be okay."
And it was as if you needed his permission, because as soon as the words left his mouth, you tilted your head back, eyebrows scrunching in pain, and let the truth flow past your own lips.
"Yeah, it fucking hurts."
He laughed, but the sound was sympathetic. Bringing your hand up to his lips, he placed a gentle kiss there, and you nearly shot up at the action. You tried not to think too much into it but his lips on your skin was something you couldn't just ignore.
"Is there anything else I can do?"
His voice was soft, gentle, reverent. And he was looking at you like he would do anything you asked. Like you could tell him to go sit in the snow for an hour while you basked in the heat, and he would stand up diligently before marching his way into the blizzard.
He looked at you expectantly, and your heart swelled. One day you would tell him. Tell him how you loved him, how you thought that maybe there was something there between you two, something that tied your souls and hearts together.
"I'm still kind of cold," you admitted. "Could you lay with me?"
At first you thought the question was a bit of a risk, something he might not be comfortable with. But then you thought about how you were completely naked before him not even twenty minutes prior, and you felt less embarrassed to ask.
"Are you sure? There's not much room."
You nodded, and he looked down at his own snow-soaked leathers. He grunted in disapproval and discomfort, reaching down and lifting the tight clothing from his body. You nearly gasped at the action, at the toned body that now faced you. Gods, he was beautiful.
He walked away briefly, presumably to gather his other change of clothes. He might have even cleaned up a bit, because when he appeared again, he looked clean and comfortable. And then he was reaching under the blankets to adjust where you laid.
His body sunk into the cushions of the sofa, and he gathered you into his arms until you were halfway on his chest, his soft and clean shirt overwhelming your senses as you curled into him.
You hummed. "This is nice."
His arms were loose around you, but his hand was resting purposefully curled around your side, his fingers inching over onto your abdomen in a protective and comforting gesture. As if he could take your pain away with just a touch.
"Try to rest. We should be able to get back to Velaris in the morning."
You pushed away the pain radiating through your body, the disorientation and dizziness, and instead focused on the warm muscled body underneath you. The way he encased you, the way he made you feel safe and at peace despite your current state. The way he cared for you.
You would tell him soon -- how you felt.
But for now, you buried your face deeper into his chest, your body falling lax against him. For now, you would rest and savor this moment.
For now, you would pretend like he was doing this because he loved you too. And you held onto that until sleep took your pain away.
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billyloomiswhore4 · 1 year
Text
Dark Habits | Billy and Stu x Reader
Warnings: petnames, (babe by stu, and baby by billy) Smut, consensual but not very safe, cheating, knife play, consensual cutting of the reader by the boys, fear play, oral (fem receiving), oral (m receiving). P in V, pussy slapping
anonymous asked:
I really liked your POV from the last ask, and I got inspired with a smut request from it if you're interested
Reader is Billy and Stu's childhood friend. She was there when they started having this sick fascination with gore and death and even "hardcore" interest when puberty hit them, making her end up being their "friends with benefits ", she isn't aware of their plan so when  they got Tatum and Sydney as girlfriends she expected them to stop thier secret relationship but they still came back to her even though she knows it's bad to cheat, but they come back to her not only because they are obsessed with her and love her but also because she is the only woman who can handle thier Dark sexual habits, the fear with billy  and the inflicting pain with stu.
a/n: im still struggling to figure out whats wrong with me but i felt bad for not posting, so i found this is my drafts and rushed to finish it up so im sorry if the end sucks its also not edited to again im sorry.
-
You’ve been their friend since before you can remember. You were there for everything. When their obsession with horror movies grew stronger. When your play fights got a little too rough, and they seemed to enjoy your fighting a little too much. 
The first instance you could remember was when you were eleven years old. Billy and Stu were twelve. You had found a movie in your older siblings room.  You can’t remember the title now but what you do remember was when it started, and got right off into the murder. It was intense, it looked a little too real but stu still complained about how blood wasn’t really that color. He’d been hunting plenty of times with his dad, when he was home, and knew what blood and insides looked like. 
Billy though, was a different story. He seemed entranced, and even licked his lips at a close up of the victims face as she was being murdered. 
Stu was ecstatic that he found a good movie that he hadn’t seen. They both loved it, maybe a little too much and that’s probably why the memory stuck with you. 
The memories only got more and more intense from that one. The next instance was when you were fourteen. You were in the living room of Stu’s house, Billy sitting on the couch, and you and Stu were wrestling on the floor. He eventually got you down, your hands pinned above your head. He was squeezing your wrists a little too tight, and you winced. He grinned at this, and squeezed tighter.
“Ow Stu that hurts,” You whined, attempting to kick him off you. Billy’s attention was now on you and Stu, and Stu’s grin only widened. When he squeezed even tighter, fear flashed across your face. Billy had a frown on his face, but his eyes shone with something you’d never seen before. 
“Stu, seriously that hurts.” You were serious now, and he quickly snapped out of it, letting you go and helping you up off the ground. 
That moment you knew something was off about your best friends. It freaked you out a bit, the way Stu smiled at your pained sounds and Billy’s eyes when he realized you were afraid. 
That wasn’t the last incident. But as you grew older, and learned more about your sexual desires, you realized you weren’t like other people. When watching movies with Stu and Billy, you often found yourself watching intently as the killer would tease their victim with the knife, dragging it across their chest or arm just to see them squirm. You wondered what it would feel like, what it would be like to be so afraid and at someone's mercy. 
You let it slip before you could even think. 
“I wonder what that would be like.” You immediately grew red. Both Stu and Billy looked at you, staring intently.
“Wanna try it?” Stu asked all of the sudden. Billy smacked him on the shoulder.
“You can’t just ask that, fuckrag.” Billy seemed a bit angry at Stu for suggesting it. 
“I mean..” You trailed off, eyes pointing towards the screen in front of you. 
“Wait, you’d actually want to?” Billy was shocked. And you tried to subtly rub your thighs together. Stu’s hand suddenly met your thigh, and you jumped, not expecting him to notice your minuscule movements. 
“I think she wants it, Billy.” Stu’s cheshire grin was wider than you’d ever seen it before, and his eyes met Billy’s. They exchanged looks and it was all history. 
That night changed your life. You’d laid down in Stu’s bed, and he brandished a pocket knife from his pocket. He trailed it from your collarbone and down to your thigh. You tried to hide how hot the cold metal against your skin made you feel.  When he cut your shirt off, you’d gasped. Billy stared at your face, watching your eyes change from fear, to excitement to fear again. God did he enjoy it. 
That started something between the three of you. You were in a sort of “friends with benefits” situation, though you never really clarified anything. It was heaven while it lasted, but soon Billy got with Sidney, and Stu started dating Tatum. You assumed the situationship was over, but how wrong you were. 
You're sitting on your bed, it must be around midnight. There’s a tapping against your window. You don’t normally lock it, because before Sidney and Tatum, they liked to sneak in through your window. It added a certain fear into the situation, you never knew when they planned to bust into your room and take you as they pleased.
 When they started dating the girls, you started locking it, worried that anyone could take advantage of your unlocked window. You assume the tapping sound was just the wind, but it got quicker in succession. So you stand, and walk to the window, looking out. You’re met with a disheveled looking Stu, and a frustrated looking Billy. You unlock and slide open the window. 
“What are you guys doing here!” You whisper-yell at them, your arm resting against the healing marks underneath your clothes. Stu shoves you aside and makes his way into your room, Billy follows. 
“We wanted to see you, duh.” Stu grins at you and Billy smirks with a look you know all too well.
“No, no,” You pause, watching them. “You’re with Sidney and Tatum. We can’t.” You insist. 
Billy puts a frustrated hand through his hair, and you look at him, realizing that he’s hard in his jeans. 
“There’s this whole thing…” Stu trails off.
“What, Stu?”
“Well- I was with Tatum. And we were gettin- y’know.” He makes a gesture that tells you that they were fucking. 
You raise an eyebrow, your chest tightening at the thought of him and Tatum together. “When- uh. We were doing it, all I could think about was you, and how you look underneath me with my knife to your chest.” Stu’s hands make contact with your throat, his thumb resting right on your pulse point. Your heart beats faster at his confession, and you're sure he can feel it. 
“Oh,” Your eyes flutter closed, and you take a sharp inhale of breath. 
“We want you, Baby,” Billy’s voice is pleading. “Just forget about the girls, just for tonight.”
“You’re the only one who understands us, who will take everything we give you and thank us for it.” Stu stops to take a deep breath. “We love you, more than anything..or anyone”
You give in allowing Stu’s lips to connect with your own. Billy moves, removing his shirt as Stu backs you up towards the bed. The back of your knees connect with it, and Stu pushes you to fall onto the softness. He gets out of the way, allowing Billy to crawl in between your legs. 
HIs lips meet yours and his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You don’t open, you know how much he likes it when you resist. His hand comes to your jaw, pressing his fingers in between the joints and your mouth opens. He slips his tongue inside, wrestling yours. 
You don’t even notice as Stu pulls off his shirt, and pulls out the pocket knife he knows to keep in his pocket when he’s coming to see you.
Billy’s lips leave yours to grip the hem of your shirt and pull it up and over your head.The bandages across your hip come off next. Billy moves to pull off your pants and Stu straddles your thighs, pressing the knife against the skin of your other non-marked hip. 
You hiss when he presses down, the knife cutting the skin of your hip. He groans when blood bubbles up to the surface, and he uses his thumb to smear it across the skin. He makes another one, quick but thin and leans down to lick it softly. Billy’s lips meet your neck, sucking harshly against the soft, supple skin.
Billy moves away from your neck and switches places with Stu. He quickly makes work of pulling down your underwear. Billy throws your legs over his shoulders and dives in, eating you out like it’s his last meal. He laps at your clit, his pointer finger going to your hole, and pushing inside you. 
Suddenly, Stu is pressing the knife against your neck, and you quake in fear. Your thighs shake with stimulation as Billy looks at you through his lashes from between your thighs. 
Stu shushes you when you open your mouth to speak, and trails the knife from your throat down between your breasts. He continues moving the knife down, and then he makes a particularly deep cut across your stomach. 
It shocks you, he’s never done that before. Always in one spot so it’s easier to hide, and never that deep so it doesn’t scar as badly. This time, he’s trying to mark you, claim you as his. Because even if he has Tatum, he still wants you.
Billy stops completely, making you whine at the loss. He shimmies out of his pants and boxers, leaving him completely bare in front of you. He crawls between your legs, sitting back on his heels and pulling you against him. Your legs go over his hips, your cunt pressing against his hard cock. 
Stu pulls off his pants and boxers as well, grabbing his cock and pressing it to your lips. You open up, allowing him to slip it in your mouth.
“Good girl..” he groans as his dick is wrapped in the warmth of your mouth. Billy gets jealous, as you’re staring into Stu’s eyes, seemingly forgetting about him. So he slams into you, making you moan around Stu’s cock. 
“F-fuck,” Stu stutters, moaning as you work your tongue around him. 
Billy pushes into you with quick, hard thrusts. You whine in pain as Stu’s fingers wrap in your hair, and he pulls on it, hard. Billy’s fingers slip down to play with your clit, before he pulls out completely, laying a quick smack against your cunt and then slipping back inside you. You moan in pain and pleasure, the sound vibrating against Stu’s cock.
 He groans softly, shallowly thrusting into your mouth. He pulls out, with a pop sound. He strokes himself in front of your face for a moment, and then pushes back into your mouth. 
Billy twitches inside you, rubbing your clit with his thumb. He thrust into you even harder, while you hollow your cheeks around Stu’s cock. Stu quickly falls apart, twitching inside your mouth and then releasing his spend. He grips your jaw, pulling out while Billy continues. 
Stu pries open your jaw, and looks at the white substance as it trickles down your chin. He pushes your jaw shut. 
“Swallow.” You obey, and then open your mouth to show him. 
Billy falls apart quickly after, pulling out and cumming on your pussy. 
They both fall on seperate sides of you, laying there. They pull you into their arms, and Stu closes his eyes. 
Billy laughs, watching how quickly Stu falls back into the same old routine. 
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cherry-leclerc · 2 months
Text
i hate you. i hate you? ☆ cs55
genre: humor, fluff, love confessions, childhood friends to enemies/rivals to lovers (damn, tongue twister), maybe a bit angsty (don't worry too much about it though, lol), flashbacks that add to a tiny slow-burn
word count: 3.5k
The dwindling friendship that comes crashing down when you get offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Leading to a bumpy road with your best friend.
req!... i swear that when i put angst ITS NOT BAD. anyways, enjoy, anons!
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Me encantaría formar parte del equipo, you muse whimsically, pigtails flying against the winter breeze. Sería un sueño hecho realidad. 
Despite being young, you knew you were different— came from a divergent background compared to those around you. Your family definitely didn’t have the resources to fulfill your dream to kart or race professionally. You partially blame your brothers for getting you into the sport. 
Si. Lo sería, a particular Spaniard, agrees. You smile. Your parents share a pitiful glance before sitting you down. It wasn’t going to happen, not because they didn’t want to but simply because they couldn’t afford such an expensive hobby that would probably kick you in the butt. 
That’s where your first guardian angel appeared. Carlos Sainz Sr. Better known as your best friend's father. Without a doubt, he offers to sponsor you, for he grew keen on having you around, enjoying time by the pool with his two girls and shy son. 
Was there a way you could ever thank him? No, not really— nothing would ever cover all he’s ever done for you, but you’d make sure to try your best to find a way. Even if it took you a lifetime. 
-
“You’ve known her for a lifetime! Probably five, for all we know!” Lando yelps, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t just call it quits on your friendship just like…” He snaps his fingers. 
Carlos shrugs. He fills up a styrofoam cup of coffee, silently offering one to his moody friend. The Brit rolls his colorful eyes. You’re making a mistake, he presses. It’s the Spaniards turn to grow serious. 
“Por favor—she should have thought about that before she stole my seat.”
That, you did. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. It could have never been, even if you had been warned. But suddenly you were getting an opportunity, the kind you only ever dreamt of. Carlos would be fine, he was a man who would eventually have a pile of teams interested in keeping him around. You, on the other hand, were surprised that anyone was even intrigued in having you form a part of their F1 team, much less— Ferrari. 
This was it, and you had to grab at the opportunity. You just never imagined losing a friend along the way.
Why would you even consider accepting? You flinch and he’s looking as if he regrets it, so you give him the benefit of the doubt. 
I know this isn’t what we were expecting, but think of it this way. I'd be coming in 2025 and you would already be too busy preparing to join Audi! It’ll work out. You’re still doing that, right? You knew he was, he had been so excited and told you as soon as he found out. Audi was in his blood.
He runs a large hand through his tangled hair, sighing. Still. You have to say no. You can’t do that to me. It’d be embarrassing.
Your shoulders drop an inch. Why? Because you’re being bought out or because a woman is keeping your seat? His silence is enough for your heart to break and for your mind to be made up.
I’m signing. 
-
There is indignation, and then there is you.
“You are such a—argh!” Pounding your fists against the locked door, you reach out to briskly twist the knob, trying your best to get out of the cramped room. The world was spinning, and you could feel a migraine rolling in strongly, but you swore—swore—you would kill him as soon as you got your hands on him. 
The morning had started off fairly simple. Show up, run a few tests on the stimulator, get to know a few of the mechanics you’d be working with, and finally, sign your contract. You had waited longer than intended, due to minor changes you had suggested, so you were extremely ready to get it done. This was supposed to be your day.
That is until the grumpy Spaniard pushed you, locked you in, and ran off before you had a chance to register what was going on. Fred had been adamant—show up on time. The next time he would be available would not be until three weeks, and that was ridiculously long if anyone were to ask. Carlos knew that.
Charles hums slowly, munching on a pack of M&M's when he hears the spine-chilling scream you let out, wood vibrating as you punch angrily. Hurrying over, he unlocks it from the outside, surprised by your appearance. Your hair is tussled, face is blotchy, vein throbbing. It’s definitely a sight to say the least. He mentions something about —he went that way— and —think about what you’re going to do— but you’re off before you settle with any of it.
The twists and turns make your head hurt, practically seeing red before you come to a halt. Smiling sophisticatedly, Carlos is sat, legs crossed, fingers pointing to his watch. No. “News for you, my dear friend; Fred just left.” The Spaniard winces playfully, already making his way out the door. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Charles was right. You should have thought about what you would do. Jumping onto his large back, your flimsy hands dig into the forest he calls hair, and pull. He screeches, swaying from side to side as he hurriedly tries to disconnect your legs from around his waist. Let go, he groans harder when you pinch his arm. 
“Why? Why did you do this—any of this?” At this point you’re kicking and screaming, panting, heaving. “Is it really that difficult to accept it? You lost. I’m in, you’re out.”
“At least we know she’s a fighter.”
Coming to a sudden stop, your eyes flicker to the familiar voice, instantly burning up. Fred taps his foot gingerly against the white tiles, an amused Monegasque standing right behind him. Jumping off of the sulky brunette, you begin to shake your head in disbelief, pointing towards the exit. “N-no…you’re supposed to be gone. He…” Then it hits you. This was a fucking set up.
“While I’m evenly impressed by your toughness, I will say, I think we should put a hold on signing.” Your stomach drops. The older man quickly waves his hands in dismissal, grinning apologetically. “We still want you! Nothing has changed, but I think it’s for the best that you fix things with Carlos before doing so. It’ll be good for you two.” With that, he bows his head, and strolls away, heading for the airport.
“I’m out too,” Charles whispered, slowly stepping back. “Fill me in on what happens, though!” 
As soon as your breath evens out—and Carlos creates a safe distance between you two—you let out a deranged chuckle. He almost cringes at the cold sound, but keeps his chin up high. “You did this all on purpose?” It’s a question but comes out more like a confirmation, which in a way, it was. Shutting your eyes, you tilt your head with a ghostly smile. “You knew he hadn’t left and let me make a fool out of myself. Why would you do that?” you grit, orbs laser focused on him as if you could light him up into flames if you really set your mind to it.  
“Why would I not?” he stubbornly spits back.
“You asshole, I’m just trying to make your dad proud.”
A pinch of guilt dives deep into his veins as he watches you stomp down the hallway, mindlessly tugging at his heart.
-
I say we let him burn, Ana pitches the idea, laying flat on her bed as you scoff with a knowing smile. 
Does it make me a bad person if I don’t disagree with you? 
She sits up, eyeing where you calmly paint down on a canvas. She squints her eyes. “What even is that?” Holding your art with pride, you shoot a sheepish smile. Nice, huh? The Spaniard’s youngest sister giggles, nose scrunching up at the dark sight. “I’m confused—is he supposed to look like that?”
You curl an analytical brow, shooting a quick snarl. “I think it’s pretty good. And yes. He’s supposed to be getting run over by my future car. What a sight.” You dramatically swoon.
Ana drops her stare, focusing instead with a teasing curl gripping the corner of her lips. “Remember when instead of plotting his death, you’d be fantasizing about a life with him? God, I could still remember all the hearts—the glitter.” She shudders, faintly recalling the mess in her room, which led to Reyes giving you both a good scolding, but not before winking at a red-faced you. 
Looking away feverishly, you shake your head, picking up the flimsy paint brush once again, never once bothering to make eye contact with her. “I was young. Stupid as shit. I can’t even remember what I loved about him.”
“Liked,” she corrects you.
You cough. “Right. Liked.”
-
If the Spaniard took the time to sit down, roll through a philosophical journey, wonder where things might have changed for him—it would have saved him enduring a puddle of dreadfulness at this very moment.
Ana’s wedding. The first of his sisters who would get married. It was a bittersweet day, and not just because she was finally leaving the family nest. “Who is she…” he can hear himself ask. Almost demand. The brunette smirks, slightly pleased. 
“My best friend. You’re nemesis,” she jokes. 
Carlos growls slowly, lightly pinching her cheek as she yelps. “With. You know what I mean.”
“Lalo. She met him a few weeks ago. Very nice guy.” A beat. “Please don’t ruin my wedding.”
But he’s not even listening. Brown eyes follow to where you stand straight, arms crossed over your body like a shield. He always knew you’d been self-conscious, but never understood why. You were stunning. Lavender dress hugs your curves beautifully. A trace of honey fills any area you fall into. Your hair is nicely pinned up, allowing him to enjoy your silky skin. 
And it seems like Lalo too.
Rubbing a large hand against his smooth jaw—which was only neat since Reyes had hounded him to fix his appearance for his sister’s big day—he smoothly made his way over. Rupert warns the Spanirad with his eyes, but Carlos scoffs. Did everyone think he had something up his sleeve? 
“Enjoying yourselves?”
Mid-sip, your face freezes, doe-eyes flickering between Lalo, then Carlos. Then Carlos, then Lalo. God, when did the room begin to boil? Your voice gets caught in your throat, to make matters worse. Carlos’ personal trainer pity’s you for a split second, deciding to help out. “The drinks are stellar, mate. We’ve been hogging the bar for so long at this point.”
The brown eyed boy studies your so-called date, faking a cold smile. “You don’t say…Carlos, by the way,” he says, extending his arm out. “Remind me of your name again, sorry, she’s just never mentioned you before. At all, really. I apologize.”
“That’s okay, we only just met a few weeks ago. We’re taking it slow.” We’re. The word itself makes the 29 year old fear he might puke right then and there. “Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. Huge fan.”
“Mines or hers?” Carlos bitterly questions, thick lips forming a straight line. Lalo awkwardly clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling away and leaning in to hold you close. 
“Guess it’s my turn to apologize now. Hers. Always. But you’re pretty cool, too, I suppose.” His voice is light, unbothered. It makes Carlos tick furiously, though he doesn’t dare show it. You can’t pinpoint the moment tension rose up, snapping you out of your trance. Blinking hastily, you aim a sour snarl at the Spaniard. 
“We were sort of having a good time, so…” You shoo him away with a jeweled hand. “I just don’t want to kill the vibes. You understand, right?” Barely giving him a chance to respond, you turn back to your conversation, leaving Lalo and Rupert to appear puzzled, but stupidly playing along.
With a raw click of the tongue, the 29 year old takes a step forward, leveling down to your ear. “Pretend all you want, but you’re still wearing my initials around that pretty wrist of yours.” And walks away.
It was true. Your parents had gifted you a lucky charm bracelet for your fourteenth birthday, and Carlos greedily beat everyone to it. A car, for your love for Formula One. A chili, a shy thank you for his nickname. An ice cream, well, because you just loved ice cream. And a cursive CS. For him. 
Watching him walk away left you with a hole in your heart. You did not need a reminder like that on a day like this. Wearing it was purely out of habit, it had no meaning to it anymore. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The need to use the restroom was a complete lie as you wordlessly peek for the broad Spaniard. You spot his glossy shoes first, sticking out the photo booth. 
“Scoot,” you say, gently cramming him in deeper. Once you get situated, you slide the silver charm off, handing it over to him. “Here.”
He furrows his dark brows. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t want anything tying me back to you anymore. It was kind—sweet—but that was past you. You’re cruel, mean, rude, a fucking jerk now. I don’t like that, so— here.”
“I don’t want it,” he retorts, curling your flat hand into a fist, forcing you to hold it tight. 
“Well I don’t either, so what is there to do? You know what; I’ll just sell it. It’s not even that significant,” you mumble, already making your way out, but not before he hauls you back. Falling straight onto his thigh. You can feel your pulse quicken, your cheeks tingle, and your eyes suddenly burn. “Let me go,” you squeal, trying your best to weasel out of his grip. He groans, placing a large hand on either side of your hips, pushing you down.
“No. Just listen to me first.” Sighing, you nod. You should be climbing off; there’s room for two. He should be pushing you off; there’s room for two. But none of that happens as he clears his throat, rehearsing his words over and over before you raise a neat brow, waiting for him. “Perdón. Por todo.” 
Not what you were expecting and he could tell when you let out a small gasp. Nervously, he licks his lips, admiring your plump ones that don’t lay too far off from his own. “I used to be so proud of you when we were just kids. When you first admitted you wanted to race too. It was adorable, the way your eyes lit up.” Your breath deepens, unknowing of what this was leading to. “But I’ve always been proud. That’s never changed.”
“You’re a terrific liar,” you timidly chuckle, patting his shoulder, making him back off a little. But he only ricochets forward, twice as close. Your insides churn. 
“You don’t know how fucking happy I was when you got a seat. Over the moon. But I won’t lie; I was hurt and said some shitty things that have no excuse tied to them. I know I hurt you—I know that now. But that feeling vanished when worry came creeping in. I don’t want you to sign that contract.”
You flinch, reality crashing down on you once again as you examine the Ferrari driver. “Why apologize if you haven’t changed? My feelings aren’t a joke,” you whimper pathetically, tears sliding down your cheeks, soft brows drawn together. 
He panics, gingerly brushing them away to the best of his ability and you don’t have the power to fight him off anymore. You’re too busy getting your heart broken once again by the same man. 
She’s beautiful. Insanely—it’s insane. Her eyes are a shade of green I’d never thought I’d like.
I once wore a shade of green shorts last summer and you called them ugly. Said it looked like vomit. 
Carlos sighs dreamily, dominantly shaking his head. 
Well crap. I must’ve changed my mind.
Present him, was taking in your frantic sobs and he doesn’t know how else to calm you if it's not by rubbing your back gently. It takes a while, but you eventually ease up, occasionally letting out a shaky breath. “First of all, let me tell you why I did everything within me for you not to sign. It’s no good.”
You tilt your head in confusion, nose runny as he hands you his handkerchief. “I-I’m confused.”
Carlos chuckles. “What was the one thing I would always complain to you about when I was away racing?” Lack of privacy? “Okay, second thing I raved about…” When you don’t answer, he sheepishly wiggles his brows. “How tired I was with my team. It’s exhausting because like it or not—we’re not at our prime. I don’t think we will be for a couple of years. But for my benefit, I’ll be gone, and then it’s only going to fall on-”
“Me,” you finish, glossy eyes dancing through his painful expression.
 He nods. “Listen, Charles will be fine. Mentally not, but he’ll do just okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not only will you dive in, nose first into a world of ruthless men, but you’ll always be the entire blame. In their eyes, it'll be you. What did you do wrong? How could you fuck up? And sure, you might sometimes—it's inevitable— but other times you won’t. But you’re a girl, and that’s enough for the fingers to be pointed at you.”
Shaking your head profusely, you instantly reach up to catch your hair from falling from its tiring up-do. He helps you out, combing his fingers nicely, though this time it doesn’t get rid of the queasy feeling. He was right. God, why did he have to be right? 
“I’m well aware of what I’m about to get myself into. But I think I can handle it. I can’t not do it—imagine how many girls it would help pave the way for? I’m sure as fuck it won’t be easy, and it might threaten my sanity, but I need to do this. And I’m sorry.”
An unfamiliar wave crashes against his warm eyes, a low breath being expanded into the air. You can feel it, taste it. Mint mojito. Your body told you, you liked it, with the way you wanted to lean in and kiss him—just to confirm. Pursing your lips, you continue. “You have your future decided and I have mine.”
With a hesitant bow, and a tide of curls flying forward, he clears his throat. “You’ve always been this way. Dedicated. And I could never decipher why. Until now.” He can’t help but brush his nose against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing him to appreciate your pretty features. “If you’re sure, then I’m right behind you.”
You almost want to laugh, but are too scared to ruin the moment, so instead count his freckles. “I am…” A sharp inhale. “But what’s the second thing?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said ‘first of all’. I would assume there’s more…” You know there is, but you just want to hear him say it aloud. You’d seen the way he glared viciously at Lalo, chest firming. You’d seen the way things had shifted between you two, months prior, after his break up.
If this racing thing doesn’t work out, you would make a killer artist. He whistles.
Down boy, you joke. It’s just a swan. I resonate with them. 
He sits up straighter. Then consider me a swan, too.
You laugh loudly, tossing your head back as he smiles. Why all of a sudden?
Just.
“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here.” He cradles your delicate face. “I think I love you. I-I mean I know I love you. Your stubbornness, your compliance. Your level-headedness, your intrusive actions. Your need to persevere and be better—even if others make it hard on you.” You giggle, poking his chest. “But above all, I love the way you made me work for it. I’m glad you did because how else could I have realized if you didn’t drag that dead-beat?”
“Hey! He’s nice!”
The 29 year old tsks. “Nice isn’t enough and you know it.” His pink lips graze over yours as you lean in too. “You’ve always been a smart girl…” He’s about to kiss you when you slide back, leaving him hanging. He clenches his jaw, seeming teased. 
“I love swans because I know I can love as deep as one.” 
“I can too.”
“And I know, you know, that I love you too.”
“I do know that.”
“And I lit you up on fire, but only on paper!”
His brows furrow. “Yeah, we can circle back to that. But I don’t care. I love all that about you. And I want you to know my father has always been proud of you.” He winks. “But never as much as me.”
“We’re doing this then?” you ask nervously. “Y-you’re still going to have to grovel. I don’t give up that easily. Especially after all you’ve put me through.”
Carlos gently nods, eyes adoring you. “I’ve waited more than a decade for this moment. What’s one more?”
And he kisses you.
taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings
*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!
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awoogayanderes · 10 months
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LEARNING ABOUT JAPANESE CULTURE WITH BSD MEN
➪ requests : “Can i request atsushi, dazai and tecchou with foreign gf?” - anonymous
“Hey, love!! Could I request Chuuya and Kunikida (separately) with a gender neutral s/o who isn't native Japanese and struggles with talking Japanese and things like chopsticks? <3 - Anon 🥂” - anonymous ( 🥂 ? )
➪ other notes : these prompts were very similar so i decided why not combine them ! this is actually the first time i get very similar prompts at the same time, but i feel as if i didn’t do this enough justice so i apologize, non edited
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Atsushi Nakajima :
- god he’s so patient with you, even if you’re not a fast japanese learner, he’ll always help you out by smiling and gently correcting you
- i feel as if his orphanage offered some type of short term class to learn english even if it was just the basics
- so while he teaches you japanese, you’re teaching him more english
- the first meal he ever introduces to you is chazuke, a comfort food to him that he hopes will also satisfy you
- if you struggle with your chopsticks, he would softly place your fingers where they’re supposed to be, with a pink blush on his face
- when both of you go to festivals, he’ll help you pick out a kimono or a yukata
- even though he thinks you look lovely in every color, his face will always soften when you wear purple, preferably iris or periwinkle
- atsushi tries his best to teach you money currency but will sometimes disregard it since he grew up with no money
- “struggling with kanji?” atsushi said with an accent as he sat next to you
- you nodded, trying to find the correct words to express your frustration in japanese
- you sigh leaning your head on his shoulder, he knows you’re mad so he soothes you
- 9/10 experience with this sweet boy, he has his mini flaws but he’s all around perfect
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Osamu Dazai :
- he’s definitely the type of guy to quiz you on japanese and when you get it right, he gives you a kiss as a “prize”
- he definitely knows english, he just chooses to act dumb at times
- he definitely makes you eat canned crab with him but there’s times where he’ll splurge on real crab for you, a purchase he doesn’t regret
- when you’re struggling with your chopsticks, he’ll come from behind you, molding himself against you to fix your hold on your chopsticks
- do not take him shopping for a kimono or a yukata, he’ll make you try on all of them
- i feel as if he’d love to see you in a saphire blue or a french blue, he’d giggle with a coy smile
- he teaches you about money but only when you spend it ( he’d definitely leech off of you and take advantage of your lack of knowledge )
- due to him knowing english, you normally don’t speak japanese with him, but when you do, he encourages you
- “here let me help you,” dazai says in english wrapping himself behind you casually
- he places both of his hand on your dominant hand, fixing its posture
- he places a kiss on your cheek from behind you, lingering onto you as you try your best to say “go away” in japanese
- 7/10 experience, despite his slight lack of care for your money, he’s a sweet guy to be with
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Tecchou Suehiro :
- honestly i can imagine him forgetting that you’re not fluent in japanese, like you can be having a conversation and you look at him perplexed and he realizes what the problem is
- i think he knows english but isn’t really fluent but he still tries his best for you
- DO NOT EAT ANYTHING HE MAKES FOR YOU !!! you will get food poisoning from his awful creations of food
- honestly you’d need to ask him to help you with your chopsticks, most of the time he wouldn’t notice it
- but he’d basically demonstrate where your fingers are supposed to go rather than move around your fingers
- due to his work, he can’t really take any time off to shop for a kimono/yukata, though if he did, he’d just follow your every move
- he likes seeing you in kinda like a maroonish color with maybe a yellow sash
- idk what you expected, he’s the weirdest guy in this list who likes random combinations including your clothing
- he doesn’t really teach you about money but if you ask, he’d explain it to the best of his ability
- “i made some food for you,” tecchou said, sounding out the words
- “thank you,” you smile back at him, knowing you weren’t about to eat the abomination of food he just made for you
- 8/10 experience, he’s all around perfect except that you might get food poisoning
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Chuuya Nakahara :
- another patient guy like atsushi when it comes to you except that when he gets annoyed, he blows up at you accidentally
- he’s another guy who knows english due to the port mafia, but he prefers not to speak it as he can’t fully show his emotions
- chuuya doesn’t particularly have a favorite meal to share with you, what he does have is expensive bottles of wine that would create the perfect late night date
- but if you don’t really like wine, then he probably provides you with any high quality food, i personally think he has a thing for rice
- if you ever ask for help with chopsticks, he either does what atsushi does and fix your fingers or he would tell you to get a fork
- he would literally order custom made kimonos/yukatas for you, he wants then to be perfect for his beloved
- you cannot tell me he’d love to see you in black, can’t really take out the mafia in this guy
- another person who doesn’t teach you about money because he insists he’ll cover all of your costs, you just need to pay with his cash or swipe his card
- “money ? nah you don’t need to learn about it, i’ll pay for anything and everything you need and want,” chuuya says taking a sip of wine
- “are you sure ? i don’t want to make you feel like i’m taking advantage of you,” you said slowly still learning japanese
- “yeah don’t worry about it,” the orange haired man said inviting you to take a sip of his wine
- 9/10 experience with chuu, he does get annoyed when you don’t understand him the first few times, but he makes up for it
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Doppo Kunikida :
- you probably learn japanese the fastest if you’re with him, he quite literally forces it down your throat so you can adapt quickly
- agree with me or not, i think he doesn’t know english BUT he would learn it so quickly to make communication with you easier
- this guy definitely cooks you home made meals, oden being his first dish he introduces you to, something you both thoroughly enjoy
- if you struggle with chopsticks, he’d give you a clear description on how to properly use them
- he also tends to give you books on japanese culture knowing that the more informed you are, the better
- if he has time, he does take you kimono/yukata shopping, often looking for good quality at a deserved expense
- he absolutely loves seeing you in green, typically emerald or basil, his face turning red as if he sees you try them on
- he’s the only man on his list who genuinely teaches you about money and living cost
- “are you sure i need all of these books,” you question as he stacks them up in front of you
- “i want you to become independent as soon as possible in the occasion i might not be here to help you,” he says, pushing his glasses up
- you deadpan but still thank him for caring about your needs more than you even do
- 10/10 experience with kunikida, he’s quite literally the ideal boyfriend in this situation, not leaving you ignorant in a new country
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a-little-unsteddie · 5 months
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stuck in your throat || a/b/o
hi so today is @lexirosewrites’s birthday today and like,, idk three or so weeks ago she followed me (hi lexi <3 happy birthday <3 hope today has been fun <3) and to celebrate both of those things i started writing an omegaverse fic, and i wanted it done by today but it is grew a mind of its’ own and now it’s much bigger than i thought it’d be so instead of the full fic, have a snippet <3
again, happy birthday lexi <3
“Hello?” Steve answered, having learned to not open the call with who was answering without knowing who was calling from one too many scam calls
“Is this Steve Harrington?” A soft feminine voice asked, taking Steve by surprise.
“May I ask who’s calling?” Steve asked, not willing to concede his identity until he knew it wasn’t someone looking to sell him ‘Alpha Pills’ or something just as ridiculous.
“Of course! My name is Chrissy Cunningham, you sent in an application for being a full time nanny and tutor?” She responded with a cheerful voice. “I can’t <i>really</i> go much more in depth without an NDA being signed.”
Recognition zapped through Steve’s body and he sat up in his seat. “Oh! Yes, I’m Steve. Um. I’d be happy to sign an NDA, just may I ask why?”
“Yes, you may! My client is a big fan of privacy and only agreed to hire someone if they were under an NDA for the protection of their pup.” aaand all of Steve’s anxiety surrounding the NDA pretty much melted away. Sure, maybe it was a bit much to do, and sure, now he was dying with curiosity to know just <i>who</i> he had ended up applying to, but the knowledge that the NDA was for the protection of the pup soothed any anxiety Steve had originally felt about signing an NDA. In fact, it kind of made his omega perk up. He shook off the feeling, focusing on Chrissy.
“That’s actually really relieving to hear,” Steve said with a laugh. “When or where can I sign the NDA?” he questioned, wondering when Robin would be home so he could tell her.
“Well, first, you and I will do a preliminary interview, just like any other job interview. Then, if all goes well, I’ll send you an email containing the NDA for you to review and sign,” Chrissy explained clearly and cheerfully. “After you sign the NDA, my client will perform an in-person interview and then we’ll go from there.”
“That all seems pretty straight forward so far,” Steve replied, standing from where he had been lounging on the couch. He walked to the kitchen, where he and Robin had put up a magnetic whiteboard calendar to fill with each of their schedules and plans. He grabbed the blue marker, his color, and prepared to jot down when they’d have the interview.
“Perfect! Happy to hear it,” Chrissy said with an audible smile.
“When will the interview with you be?” Steve asked, biting his lip as he stared at the calendar, which had sparsely been marked with his blue marker, even since starting this job hunt. Robin’s plans were in red, and was much more abundant due to having three part time jobs.
“Well, as soon as possible, really. If you’re available now, we could take care of it right away.” the woman responded, sounding like she was walking into another room.
“Oh!” Steve exclaimed, recapping the marker and returning it to the pen holder. “Yes, of course. I’m available now.”
“Perfect!” Chrissy’s voice sounded from Steve’s phone as the omega walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. “So, starting off pretty easy here, what made you apply for this position?”
Steve thought back and grimaced at the reminder that it was Robin who had submitted his application to this particular job. He wasn’t about to admit that, though, and quickly found a more appropriate response.
“Well, I love taking care of pups, and I just got my teacher’s license a month ago,” Steve explained, which wasn’t a lie, so he figured it was probably as good of an answer as any. “I also saw that this job traveled, and my best friend thought that it’d be good for me.”
“Yes, that was going to be part of this conversation, too. So, you’re obviously alright with the traveling, then?” Chrissy asked and Steve heard what he thought could be pen scratching as she wrote notes. He swallowed thickly, suddenly anxious about what she was writing. He decided to ignore his anxiety, even as his scent soured around him with it.
“Oh, yes, traveling is more than okay,” Steve agreed immediately, “but it’s more important to me that I’ll be taking care of a pup, if I’m honest.”
This statement seemed to pique Chrissy’s attention, as the writing stopped for a moment. “Why is that?” she eventually asked.
Steve winced, wondering if he should be up front about it or not. If Robin were here, she would insist that he was honest. He decided on a half-truth.
“I’ve always wanted pups, and a lot of them,” Steve admitted, fidgeting with a loose piece of thread on the couch. He switched which arm was holding the phone, as he had started to get a little sore from holding it up for so long. “But I don’t have a partner, so I can’t really have my own right now. I discovered through babysitting for one of my neighbors that I have a knack for taking care of pups.”
The scratching noise was back as Chrissy listened to his responses. Steve was nervous he wasn’t doing well, but figured that it wasn’t going bad if she wasn’t suddenly calling the interview short.
“Your resume says that you’re good in high stress situations,” Chrissy said after a couple seconds of silence as she wrote down whatever notes she was taking. Steve briefly wondered if he should be doing the same thing. “I’m going to give you an example scenario, and you’re going to tell me how you’d respond.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Steve agreed, trying not to let his voice betray how anxious he was.
“For the sake of simplicity, we’ll say the pup’s name is Rosie,” she informed him before she continued to describe the scenario. “You’re taking Rosie to the park, when suddenly there is a crowd of people surrounding you and you lose sight of her. What do you do?”
Steve thought the scenario was odd, but not ‘out there’ enough to alarm him. He thought about his answer for a moment before replying.
“I would try to follow her scent, first, because that will usually lead me to any pup I’ve babysat. If that doesn’t work, I will call out for her. If the situation is bad enough, I would contact the authorities, and either you or Rosie’s father.” he paused for a second before continuing, trying to make sure he covered all of his bases. “But honestly? If Rosie is small enough, I would have rather carried her once I saw the crowd, or hold her hand, for the reason of lowering my chances of separation.”
Silence that’s only broken up by the scratching of pen against paper followed, and Steve was suddenly anxious that he answered incorrectly. He answered what he would do if it were his own pup, but what if that wasn’t right? What if he wasn’t cut out for this job?
“Alright, next scenario,” Chrissy said, moving swiftly onto the next one without commenting on his answer; Steve didn’t know if he preferred her not acknowledging it or if he would prefer to be told his answer was shitty up front. The next few scenarios were just as oddly specific, but Steve answered them exactly as he did the first one. He tried to not overthink his answers too much because between each one there would be a stretch of time that Chrissy used to presumably write his answers down.
“One last question and then we should be good to move forward.” Chrissy said a good twenty minutes of questions later. “When would you be available to start working?”
Steve’s eyebrows raised, surprised that he was seemingly, maybe being offered the job. “Um—immediately. I would need time to pack, but other than that, I’m free.”
“Wonderful,” Chrissy said cheerfully. “Alright, now it’s your turn. Do you have any questions for me?”
Steve hummed, trying to go through his usual list of questions he asked during interviews that hadn't already been answered and came up empty. “Not at the moment, but I’ll make sure to write any I think of down, if I do.”
“Perfect! So, I will consult with my client, and I have a few other applicants that are interested, but so far, you are my top pick, but I don’t make the decisions,” Chrissy laughed, as if Steve was in on the joke. He laughed with her, not knowing what else he should have done. So, maybe not a job offer, but it sounded promising anyway. “I will be in contact in a few days, three at most.”
“Sounds good, thank you so much for considering me, Chrissy,” he responded with a smile, hoping to leave one last good impression.
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maythearo · 9 months
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" Welcome back to Night Raven College's 'Ghostly Gossip'! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "
" Your eyes don't deceive you. He really is real. And an actual monster too, not just a 'weird looking dog', as those funny human legends say... "
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Navigation:
R. Rosehearts - T. Clover - C. Diamond - A. Trappola - D. Spade - L. Kingscholar - R. Bucchi - J. Howl - A. Ashengrotto - J. Leech - F. Leech - K. Al Asim - J. Viper - V. Schoenheit - R. Hunt - E. Felmier - I. Shroud - O. Shroud - M. Draconia - L. Vanrouge - S. Zigvolt - Silver
Messy design notes:
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I have mixed feelings over his design. On one hand, the outfit itself looks cool... and on the other hand it turned out to be nothing like what I had envisioned in the beggining 😭 I wanted to stick with muted colors, in the vibes of that pic next to howleen's I guess, but it's like Ruggie's design had a mind of its own, and would always lean to more punk-looking no matter how hard I tried to avoid it, which don't get me wrong- punk style does fit him well, the problem is that I had it reserved for another character already, and I wanted to repeat themes as little as possible between entries of this project.. that just may be my perfectionist side speaking though, and there is no reason why I shouldn't post this version here for the time being! If I don't get tired of working on this series by the time I finish all the main cast's designs, then I suppose I could try to make an alternative version of Ruggie with a slightly different theme! I'd do the same with Jamil's entry since he is yet another character I have mixed feelings about the design lol
Aaaanyway, the mood for chupacabra Ruggie is grunge/thrifted fashion with diy details he would add to make his looks feel unique to him I think? The spikes on his skin, although he can partially control (?) them, still get stuck on cloth every now and then. Nearly all items of his closet are a bit torn from it, but he doesn't mind all that much. I got no particular designs for the pins and badges he wears, maybe except for the brazilian flag and the trans pin which I rlly wanted to include somewhere on his clothes whsdbdshewbdi
The chupacabra's appearance vary from place to place, but for this, I based his looks on how I personally grew up hearing and imagining this creature to be like! Baisically a fucked up looking dog, sometimes with spikes and scales on its body? Yeah 👍
And he remains the same personality-wise in the AU, pretty much! At the moment I can't think of many fun facts or character quirks for him, aside from how impossible it is to take a selfie with him, much to Cater's dismay. He swears he doesn't do it on purpose! The moment the camera clicks his body moves on its own to be out of frame. Ruggie's entire instagram (or whatever the monster high equivalent of that may be) account are either pictures of a moving blur or a vaguely distinguishable sillouette of him, taken from far away and zoomed in 10x
I think that's all I remembered to say? Here's a Ruggie core meme I found on reels as extra content lol
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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months
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OMG HIIIII I HAVE A REQUESTTTTT
I LOVE UR STORIES
So imagine Fem reader just going through her closet throwing out old things along with miguel and she finds an old shoebox of hers opens it and its her retired vibrator and pink dildo that she hasn’t used since she started dating Miguel and she’s looking at him awkwardly since she said that she totally threw them away so miguel gets back at her by taking the toys and making her use them
ANYWHO BYYEE THANKKZZZ
Pretty in Pink
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me when you appear in my inbox, throw a smut prompt in my face and dip: ∑(; °Д°) i genuinely had fun with this request i made him speak more spanish than usual idk why lol but as always, if you don't like it, i'd be more than happy to make another one <3
Miguel x Reader, Smut, Word Count: 2,777
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You stare up into your messy closet; old clothes, old photos and yearbooks and maybe some plastic shopping bags you forgot about were all scattered inside. Hands on your hips, you blink at the cluttered mess while Miguel is behind you and crosses his arms with an unamused look. “You really let it get this bad?” He asks, looking down at you. Miguel had called to say he wanted to see you but you told him it was cleaning day for you and you decided to deep clean. He assured you he still wanted to come over and even help you but when he arrived he wasn’t expecting to see how even the smallest places needed organizing. Life got in the way, you told him. You shrug and let out a deep sigh. “Just help me.” You grunt with a roll of your eyes and go on your tiptoes to reach the top shelf in your closet. There was a big heavy box filled with god-knows-what and you huffed as you slammed it down on your bed. Miguel takes a peek through it while your hands empty out the contents. A two year old angel halloween costume, childhood belongings for sentimental value and a local shopping bag that held your graduation gown. “How do you even still have these?” Miguel scoffs a laugh while he digs through with you, picking up a stack of old movie tickets you used to collect. You snatch the wad of crumbled tickets back with a pout on your face. “They have sentimental value.” Miguel chuckles and teasingly pinches the tip of your nose. “I know but stop being a hoarder. C’mon. Pick what you wanna keep and pick what you don’t. I’ll get a trash bag for the stuff you don’t want.” Miguel then steps out of the room, leaving you alone to set up two piles. You huffed out a big sigh and got to work. Carefully, you picked things one by one to decide if you really needed it.
Some old shirts that didn't fit you were tossed in the don't want pile and the cute headband you thought you lost was placed in the keep pile. Any other things like some old bags or trinkets you grew out of were placed in a different pile on the floor for trash. When the top shelf was fairly cleaned out, Miguel came back with two large black trash bags and began helping you stuff the things away for donation, trash or something along those lines. You then sat on your knees to start on the floor area of the closet, picking out shoes that were too small now and tossing them to Miguel. You reached for a small shoe box in the corner and opened it up to see if any shoes inside were still usable. You didn’t expect to see a matching set of your old baby pink vibrator and hot pink dildo catching dust inside. You gagged on your own spit in surprise, feeling the color drain from your face. You were sure you threw it out. You didn’t need them anymore, not since your first time with Miguel just a little over a year and a half ago. “What’s that?” You hear Miguel peek over you, curious since you stopped handing him things. You slam the shoebox shut. “Nothing!” But he had already seen it. “It’s nothing–haha.” You strained, standing up to open the trash bag Miguel brought to throw it in there but he stops your wrist. With his other hand he takes the box and you screech, trying to take it back. He lifts it open and inside are the familiar toys he’d seen before.
He remembered assuring you that you didn’t need them anymore–not with him around. So he made you promise something to him that day. He made you promise to throw it away after you both had sex; that while you had him, no flimsy toy could ever satisfy you like he could. You kept most of that promise. You really hadn’t picked them up since, you just forgot to actually throw them out. “I thought I told you to trash these.” He glared down at you. You pause reaching for the box, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you try to excuse yourself. “I-I did—I was!” You stutter and feel yourself get smaller and panic when he cocks an eyebrow up. “I haven’t used them!” “At all?” “At all.” You grip around his forearm, hoping he wouldn’t be pissed you broke your promise. He glances back down into the box, the sight of it pissing him off. “Sit.” And so you sat on your bed, looking up at Miguel. Miguel picks up the small baby pink bullet vibrator in his hand. He turns it around to find the button and playfully clicks through the different settings. The buzz of the bullet makes your face burn, slightly angry and embarrassed how he’s just fucking around. “Okay, I get it! I’m sorry–just throw it out.” You groan and reach for it again but he snaps his head to glare down at you and you freeze. His eyes narrowed. “How’d you like it?” He asks, turning to face you, your eyes meeting his stomach before you look up.
“Huh?” You ask. He presses through the settings again as if guessing. “Did you like it slow?” He clicks to the first vibration. “Or maybe fast?” He hums as he clicks to the fifth vibration. He guesses you like it faster. You’re stumped. You weren’t sure where he was going with this. You don’t think he’s angry but he’s quiet–there’s something about him that’s changing the shift in your conversation. You cross your legs together when you hear the small buzz increasing. “Fast,” You mutter. “Start at one or two then to three or four.” You look away from him playing with your old toys, your heart speeding up at the sight of the two things that gave you pleasure these past few years. Miguel tosses the box on the bed. You yelp when Miguel pushes you down onto the bed, his knee already forcing your legs apart. You gape up at him, open mouthed in shock when the look on his face is more sinister, head full of ideas of what he’s planning to do. It makes you gulp nervously. “How ‘bout I try them out? You let me know if they’re just as good as me, yeah?”
“Huh?” You squeak out and before you know it, Miguel crashes his lips onto yours. Your eyes flutter close and your hands find purchase in his hair, a dance the two of you knew like the back of your hand. His tongue easily slips through to the inside of your mouth, entangling itself with your own tongue. You moan and roll your eyes back, kissing his back with equal fervor. You buck your hips up to grind yourself on his knee, you can already feel yourself getting wet. He helps alleviate that pressure by rubbing his knee to your aching pussy and you sigh in relief. His left hand holds your waist then moves up your body to cup a tit in his hand that makes you moan his name between kisses. Miguel then slides that hand under your shirt, lifting it up to show your bra. His kisses don't relent up, instead pushing your bra up to reveal your breasts to him and freeing them from confinement. He massages your breast in one hand and ghosts his thumb over your nipple, feeling it harden from the soft touch. Miguel moves his hand to tug your pants down and you lift your hips up to help him rip them off. He clicks the button of the vibrator and ever so gently presses it against your clothed cunt, the small wet patch making it easier to feel through the fabric. You jolt from the buzz, gasping and holding onto Miguel’s wrist. He rips your hand off and collects both of them to pin them above your head. Just one hand from him is enough to render you helpless. He then pushes your panties aside to slip the vibrator right on your clit. You choked on a gasp and tried to pry your hands away from him but he wouldn’t lend up. Your hips squirmed around to try and get away from the sudden stimulation. “I bet you missed this feeling, huh? Is it better than my cock?” He hums against your neck. You shake your head, your face burning up with desire. “N-no…” You whined, nothing was as good as Miguel but he tsks under his breath.
“No? But look at you making a mess on it already. I barely even started.” He whispers, leaning up to bite your earlobe and you moan. His voice had gotten deeper, more husky–just how you liked it. He rubs it gently, applying pressure a few times to find the spot that hits your nerves. You moaned his name when he found the exact point and he began circling around your swollen nub. His action made you jump from pleasure, the shock of it hitting your chest and down to your pussy. “Un poco de vibración y ya estás mojadita en mi mano.” He murmurs, clicking the bullet to a faster pace. You writhe and struggle between deciding to close or open your legs. Miguel struggles to keep the small bullet in his hand, the toy being incredibly tiny compared to his large fingers especially when it was wet from your cunt. Growing frustrated, Miguel pulls the vibrator off your clit making you whimper. He lugs your nimble body up and he moves to lay back against the headboard laying you to rest against his chest. You can feel his strained cock behind you but you barely have time to properly register it before he places your familiar hot pink dildo in front of you. “Muestrame cómo lo usaste antes.” He brushes his lips behind your ear. He helps you hold onto the base of it and you weakly look up at him with a lustful and dazed hum. “Miggy…” You whimper.
“Hazlo.” He growls as he places the silicon tip at your weeping entrance. He rubs the girth of it between your folds to lube it up, especially at its tip. He then lets go of your hand to move up to your breast and starts fondling the round flesh in his palm, using his fingers to roll and flick the nub. It sparks pleasure to your stomach and you bite your lip. You take a firm grip around the dildo and slide it inside your folds, your pussy sucking up the toy into its walls slowly. You moan and lean your head on Miguel’s shoulder. He leans down to nibble on your neck, his canines catching your flesh in between them as he suckles gently while playing with your perky tits. Miguel’s left hand holds the baby pink vibrator and he sets it at its lowest setting before placing it over your clit again. You gasp and arch your back off of Miguel’s chest, bucking your hips to meet the vibrator which makes you also shove the dildo further inside your cunt. “Hnngh! Mig–uel!” You mewled, closing your eyes as you submit to ecstasy. Miguel chuckles, kissing your jaw. “Que te pasa? I’m barely doing a thing. That’s all you, mami.” He rubs the toy around your swollen clit while you pump the dildo in and out of you. Your hips thrust in time with your hand with the vibrator slipping and even smearing your juices from around your labia. Miguel turns up the speed of the buzzing and you let out a high-pitched moan. “No–no, please–” You squeal. “Wait–wait…” You pleaded and grabbed his wrist but Miguel didn't budge. “I thought you liked it fast.” He teased.
“‘s..’s too much…” You mutter, slowing down the dildo into soft long strokes, fucking it up into yourself to hit that sweet spot Miguel always hits. Even with a toy, you’re thinking of him. Miguel pulls on your hardened nipple and you cry out, clenching on the dildo. “Too much?” He scoffs. “You’ve taken a lot more, nena. C’mon, make it faster just how you like it, yeah?” He mutters, moving your hand off the silicon to replace it with his. With your hand now free, you reach up and behind you to grab onto Miguel’s locks. Miguel then pumps the dildo deeper inside you causing you to scream and pull on his hair, bucking your hips against the toy. “Miggy, Miggy–!” You whined, looking down at the sight of his hands using the pretty pink set of adult toys filling and playing with your wet pussy. “Oh, fuck…” You groan, thrusting yourself wildly onto the silicon. “More…” He smirks. “There she is.” He groans and clicks the vibrator to a higher setting, the buzz becoming louder as it surrounds your sensitive clit and folds, the dildo pounding into your cunt at a fast yet hard pace. It was like Miguel was fucking you with his cock himself. “Is it better than me, mami? Did you miss stuffing these inside you?” He murmurs against your ear as he continues to thrust it inside you, slipping the vibrator in circles and pressing it against your puffy entrance.
You shake your head while sweat beads down your forehead. “No…” You whined. Miguel doesn’t believe you. “No? Should I stop?” He slowed his hand down and was about to turn off the buzzing bullet when you squealed and grabbed his wrist tightly to stop him. “Don’t stop.” You pleaded, panting since you finally got the chance to regulate your breathing. Miguel tuts in disapproval. “It’s only good when you do it…” You murmured and his smirk grew back on his lips. “Oh yeah?” He kisses your cheek, slowly starting up his pace again, staring at the way your slick glistens against the hot pink color. You relax on his back again, stuttering your hips as they thrust up. “Mhm..” You moan and gasp when he pounds the toy into you, its soft balls slapping against you. In the middle of fucking you with your own toy, Miguel’s hand gets drenched with the overwhelming amount of juices that you leaked out of your wet pussy. He resists the urge to rip the dildo out from you and dive between your legs for a taste. He settles for licking his chapped lips instead and fucks it into you faster. Your body begins sweating profusely, squirming about as you try to reach your high as fast as you could. Miguel presses the vibrator at a faster pace and you screech, your nails digging into his skin. Your face scrunches up in pleasure and your breathing becomes uneven, panting heavy breaths as your mind gets clouded with the goal of cumming.
“Already close, mama? Go ahead.” He urged you further to your release. He watched as he hands made quick work to fuck and please you, bewitched with how perky your nipples got and how your body bounced and grinded on some plastic dick. “Miguel, harder…” You whined, spreading your legs further apart. With a kiss to your neck, he thrusts the dildo into you and clicks the vibrator to its highest setting, shocking your nerves and getting the breath knocked out of you as it makes you see stars. You screech out a high pitched moan, stilling and shaking your legs while your pussy clamps on the toy and drenches it in your cum. Miguel slips it out with a wet shlick and sets the vibrator to a lower setting to ease out your orgasm. With now one hand free, he wraps his arm around you and cups your left breast, giving it a small squeeze before pushing your bra back down over them. He kisses along your neck and jaw, murmuring praises to you. “Así es, hiciste bien…” He whispers as you slowly come out from the haze. You pant softly and twitch when the vibrator buzzes on your now sensitive clit. Miguel turns it off quickly and sets it to the side with the dildo and rubs your inner thighs comfortingly. You hum and lean back against him, catching your breath as your cheeks slowly stop burning as well. “Do you still wanna keep them?” He kisses along your neck, feeling your blood pump through your veins. You gaze over at the box and to the abandoned toys to the side. “Maybe the vibrator. The dildo wasn’t big enough.”
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A/N: how r we feeling ? ┗(・ω・;)┛
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faeryarchives · 3 months
Text
its you, it always has been you
summary: it was right then and there that he knew, he had fallen in love recent works: don't lose me, not yet & stay with me (leona kingscholar x gn!reader) & heartslabyul with a furina-like female reader!
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* ˚ ✦ you're always on my mind, even out of sight: he always wonder when did it actually start? sometimes in the middle of the day, his thoughts would randomly travel back to you - are you taking care of yourself? oh look, he found a patch of (favorite flowers) in the hidden area of the botanical garden + wondering if you would like it if he give you a bouquet 💐 everything reminds you of him and he is getting frustrated why does everything goes back to you until he saw you from the distance admiring the sunset with grim and that is when he knew "no wonder you're always on my mind, even when you're out of sight' (girl i was wondering why it sounds familiar it's doppio's debut line) 🤍
— riddle rosehearts, cater diamond, LEONA KINGSCHOLAR, azul ashengrotto, vil schoenheit
* ˚ ✦ the world looks so dull without you: at first, it was not really noticeable but when you start to get busier day by day, his world gradually lost it's color (not literally) he didn't know why but there was something very important missing and yet he try to distract himself + thinking everything will go back to normal → he was so wrong and everything felt wrong 🤬 he tried going back to the root of all this and he noticed that everything happened when you spend less and less time with him so he tried the theory out and went out to see you and voila !! it was like he was feeling everything at once and the realization sink in + not spending another minute to waste and went on to spend time with you with his heart so full and beating rapidly against his chest from joy 🤩
— ACE TRAPPOLA, ruggie bucchi, floyd leech, kalim al asim, rook hunt, idia shroud, silver
* ˚ ✦ i can't imagine you with someone else: he doesn't like the feeling he gets when you get close with others and he hated himself for that 😿 it's an ugly feeling to have and he treats you as a friend + he has no reason to feel selfish right? they tried hiding it to themselves yet to no one's surprised - the more they bury the thought the more it grew and they finally come to terms with it when he realized it's not that he doesn't want you to have other friends, but he can't imagine you being in a relationship with someone else. he know that he is not the perfect person you want to have but won't you give him just one chance? 🥺
— deuce spade, trey clover, jack howl, jade leech, epel felmier, SEBEK ZIGVOLT
* ˚ ✦ all of the above in order: this man will go stages of grief for aloooong time i tell you 😭 their first stage is thinking about you all the time along with denial → they may be too smart for their own good but really dumb when it comes to acknowledging their own feelings 🧍🏻‍♀️second stage ofc they would realize the empty space you left behind temporarily and how their world seems to be incomplete + like the colors just vanished in thin air and they would start to recognize the fact that maybe it's okay to have feelings for you? nothing is stoping them from admiring you right? 🧐 but no is still no! maybe you are just close friends and he misses your company that's all! 👩🏻‍⚖️ third one is the same → they believe some people do not deserve your attention at all and made them very sad at one point because they can't stand the image of you with someone else 😔 last stage is acceptance and it just came on a random day of you two hanging out - hearing your usual stories and laughter light a bulb inside of his head and he finally accepted the fact that he had already fallen in love with you. 🫵
— JAMIL VIPER malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge
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astraystayyh · 5 months
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Orange
hyunjin x reader. childhood friends to lovers. implied soulmates. hyune's pov.
this is the prequel & sequel to you're in the wind, i'm in the water. you need to read the prev fic first to understand how hyunjin and mc confessed to one another!!
this is very self indulgent but it's also my bd gift so i get a pass hehe also a tribute to one of my fav love languages which is peeling an orange for someone :')
based on Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey,, so highly recommend listening to it while reading :)) feedback is appreciated as always <333
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i'm on the run with you my sweet love
The beige sand warms the soles of your feet as you and Hyunjin run along the shore. His parents sit by a towel, watching you with idle curiosity as you’re propelled forth by the brisk winds; and a sense of feedom only found in the tender hearts of children.
Hyunjin doesn’t know where you’re taking him. He didn’t question you when you entwined your fingers with his before running away, your footprints etched upon the sandy canvas. His sole attention was on your clammy hand, tightly clasping his.
Hyunjin didn’t yet understand what it meant to crave the hand of someone in yours, for it to feel natural for fingers to hold one another. He was only seven. What does one really know at this age?
But he knew that he was drawn to grand things. The beauty of fireworks as they unfold in the sky, dazzling colors rivaling the hues of sunsets. To the towering sunflowers his mother takes him to see, so tall their petals almost seem to be reaching for the sun’s embrace. To the full moon and the way it hangs close to earth, as if yearning to enter our horizon, to sink into the soil and rest.
But in that moment, as he watched your gleeful smile, the blush tinting your cheeks as you tugged him along, a different amazement grew within his soul. It was quiet, it was soft, it didn't overwhelm his seven-years-old heart. It was enough.
You finally stop by a rock, settling in the sand with your hair fanning around you like a halo. Hyunjin hovers over you, his tentative gaze tracing your features, trying to pinpoint what had made that peculiar feeling pour over his body, like candle wax finally meeting its destined mold.
He doesn't find an answer, only your kind smile as you tap the place near you. You were giddy, as if you had run far when his parents remained mere meters away.
Hyunjin had noticed this urge in you to flee, to wander, always. He didn't know what it means. He thought that perhaps you didn't know either. He wondered if you'd ever run away from him. The question burned the tip of his tongue.
"Will we always run together?" Hyunjin suddenly asks, kneeling to meet your eyes.
"If you want to," you shrug. "Will you run away with me when we're older?"
"Where to?" he asks, a note of apprehension coloring his tone.
"I don't know. We'll know later."
"Okay."
"You pinky promise?"
"I do," Hyunjin entwines his pinky with yours, before leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. He avoids your eyes as a dusty blush cascades on his cheeks, akin to the fading pink of a sunken sunset. You giggle, reciprocating the kiss before pressing your thumbs together.
"Sealed forever," you grin, eyes disappearing into moon crescents. Your contagious happiness mirrors instantly on Hyunjin's face, his nose scrunching up in delight.
He wants to keep this smile on your face, he thinks, this intricate joy that dawns upon your features, brightening up your face, making your pinky in his feel lighter, warmer.
So, he takes out an orange from his pocket.
"Where did you get this?" you chuckle, eyes widening in delight as if presented with the world's most treasured jewel.
"A vendor gave it to me," he shrugs, handing it to you.
Your thumb punctures the tangerine's thick skin, making the fruit’s juice drip down your hands. You attempt to peel it but the skin breaks instantly, falling into the sand.
"Here, let me," Hyunjin offers, taking the orange from your hands, peeling it for you.
A strange warmth slowly spreads through his being, akin to tree roots anchoring onto the soil, to the unfurling of petals on the first day of spring. It feels good, for some reason, to do this mundane task for you.
This newfound feeling only solidifies when you smile brightly at him, breaking the fruit into two halves and handing one part to Hyunjin.
You no longer look like you want to run. You look content here, simply sharing an orange with him.
Hyunjin suddenly wants to buy you a whole crate of tangerines. Maybe even a farm of it- just trees upon trees that he can plant for you. He chases the thought away, he's only seven, he doesn't have money, where would he even store the oranges?
Hyunjin didn't have the answer to this question, nor the million ones swirling in his mind. But he knew your smile, the kindness in your eyes, the lingering scent of oranges on his fingers, even after washing his hands. And the word that sat heavy on his soul, from that night forth.
Hyunjin knew he loved you when he was seven years old.
there is nothing wrong contemplating God; under the chemtrails over the country club
"Found you," Hyunjin whispers, reclining on the rooftop near you.
"Wasn't hiding from you," you respond just as softly, your gaze fixed on the turquoise sky overhead. Your words cause Hyunjin's heart to swell within his chest, growing, expanding, pushing against his ribs, yearning to escape and splatter at your feet.
His emotions were always so grand- his happiness consuming his entire being, the sadness, the loneliness rattling his bones with an invincible cold. Then the love for you, not in dependence, the way the planets orbit around the sun. But with choice, because he wants to, craves being near.
"What are you doing?" he asks after a while, his voice slightly hoarse.
"Watching the chemtrails," you point out a tiny plane leaving a white trail in the sky.
"It looks so far away," he whispers in wonder, and you hum with a melancholic expression. Hyunjin curls his hand into a fist, resisting the urge to smooth the delicate frown etched on your brows.
"Didn't you like your birthday celebration?" he finally asks. He knows the answer before you quietly say, 'yes.' You were never one for the chic attire, the fine china and polished silverware reflecting the guests fake smiles. You only ever came to the country club for Hyunjin.
"I just... these people are here for me, supposedly. And yet, I feel so invisible downstairs. I bet no one even noticed my absence."
"I did," he replies instantly, contradicting you vehemently, wanting to dispel the shadows that cloud your mind. "And... I brought you an orange," he adds, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It grows when you beam at him, the chemtrails momentarily forgotten.
"Did you?"
"Mm, here," he swiftly peels the fruit for you, instinctively breaking it into two halves.
"I'm sixteen and I don't know how to peel a tangerine because of you," you giggle, biting into one part eagerly. Water dribbles down the side of your mouth, and Hyunjin delicately wipes it away, his hand cradling your jaw gently.
His heart beats wildly, drowning out the country club's orchestra. He's never been this close to you, noses nearly bumping into one another.
"Don't learn how to," he whispers, licking his lips nervously. He hopes you can't feel the tremor in his hand as it slides down your cheek.
"Why?"
"Then you won't need me anymore," he says honestly, and your eyes widen at his words. Say it, his heart pleads, I can't contain this love anymore. Hyunjin shakes his head, silencing his own thoughts. He'll make room for it; his heart will expand, even if it means bursting at the seams. He can't face your rejection.
"Can I ask you something?" you say after a while, still as close to him.
"Anything."
"Do you ever feel like you don't belong anywhere? You have friends and family, but you feel like..."
"Nobody's son?" he suggests.
"Yeah, nobody's daughter."
"Maybe we're not meant to belong to anyone else but ourselves."
"Isn't that sad?" you ask, bringing an orange wedge to Hyunjin's mouth. "What if I don't always have myself?"
"Well, you'll always have me."
"Do you promise me?" you ask eagerly, eyes wide, tone almost desperate.
"I promise." The fog dissipates, light spilling over your face once again.
"Even though you're so sought after?" you giggle.
"I'm not!"
"You are! Everybody wanted to talk to you downstairs. You're always the man of the hour," you wink, lying down on the floor once again.
"Really? I didn't notice," he says, settling next to you.
"Mm, you never notice anything," you sigh, resting your cheek atop his shoulder.
It's quiet again, save for the tranquil sound of your breaths. Your eyes are trained on the sky, following the path of each plane.
"They look really tiny."
"Maybe we're the small ones," you muse.
Hyunjin doesn't agree. Not when his love for you feels almost ancient, drawn from the depths of the very first fountain of love. It has stayed with him for nine years, intermingled with the very molecules of his being. You can't be small when what he feels for you is grander than the world.
"Maybe we are," he says as he slides an arm underneath your back, pulling you closer to his chest.
"Hyune," you call out softly.
"Mm?" he hums in reply.
"What do you think you're made for?"
I'm here to love you, he wants to say, achingly, fully, on your grand days and your small ones. To fall apart at the altar of your soul and to rise anew, by you, for you. To be yours.
"I'm here to peel you oranges." He whispers instead, his confession, for now.
"And I'm here to eat them, then."
we laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool; it's beautiful how this deep normality settles down over me
"Did you know you have a straight trail of moles on your back?" Hyunjin whispers, his cool breath akin to a gentle zephyr.
"It starts here," he bestows a tender kiss beneath your shoulder blade, as if marking the start of a constellation. "Then you have another one here," his lips brush against your skin, coaxing forth delicate goosebumps, like ripples on a moonlit pond. "And here," he trails down your spine, his mouth weaving a trail only he can see. "And a final one here," he lingers longer near the last mole, lips meeting your lower back delicately, akin to the tender graze of a feather.
If you had told Hyunjin that he would freely kiss your moles, hands trailing down your skin scented with chlorine and vanilla, he would have thought you were insane. But now he has you, because you want him too, against all odds. Hyunjin wasn't alone in his love; every emotion in your soul mirrored his own. Two sides of the same coin. Two halves of the same tangerine.
"And then... it wraps around your stomach," he flips you around until you face him, giddy giggles escaping your lips. "You see it? It goes right here, another straight line," he whispers in wonder, tracing over the moles on your skin as if in worship. There is so much he longs to articulate, words yearning to spill from his mouth. He realizes he can say them now, drape them over your body like a blanket knitted with love.
"Someone plucked stars and arranged them on your skin. You're a galaxy on your own, you know that right? So beautiful," he whispers, eyes wide in adulation, raking over each feature of yours, so much they're seared behind his eyelids. The only sight he sees when he goes to sleep.
"So are you," you smile, hands gently cradling his cheeks. Hands that held him at age seven, then eight, ten, thirteen, and twenty. Hands that dried his tears, patted his back, and played with his hair. Hands that are much more sacred than his own.
"No, you don't understand," he hovers over you, gently smoothing down your hair. "You're so beautiful, so much it dizzies me, consumes me. You consume me, entirely, and I-" He sucks in a deep breath as you smile lovingly, reassuringly.
"I know," you say. "I feel it too."
"I can't believe this is real," he shakes his head, thumb tracing your lower lip gently. "I didn't even plan on confessing when i brought you to this pool. And yet... it feels natural for us to be this way."
You nod, grinning. "Like we belong to one another."
"I told you I'd stay," his eyes soften, capturing you with the same tenderness as always, savoring every part of you.
"You always keep your promises," you smile, hand sliding down the nape of his neck, smoothing a stubborn tuft of hair.
Normal, that's the elusive term he was looking for. It is normal for him to hold you, to kiss you, to look into your eyes and find love swimming in your irises. It is the way it's supposed to be between you. He couldn't ever think of another outcome.
His eyes trail down to your arm, where two moles match perfectly with his, down to the placement, the space separating them both.
"Is this where we kissed each other the most in our past lives?" he trails off, knuckles brushing against your arm gently. You mirror his touch.
"So you believe we're soulmates?"
"Mm, I've always known."
"And why didn't you tell me?" you grin, tilting your head to the side.
"I peeled you tangerines."
His words seem to ignite something within you, memories of each time he peeled you oranges flooding back. Every birthday, each time you were sad, every time the fruit was near.
You stand up, straddling Hyunjin's lap, and then you kiss his eye mole, then the one on his cheek, trailing down his jaw mole, his neck, his arms.
"What are you doing?" he giggles, warm hands on your lower back.
"Making sure those moles show up in our next life too."
And at your words, Hyunjin swore that the citrusy scent of tangerines suddenly wafted in the air.
washing my hair, doing the laundry, late night TV i want you only
Your legs are comfortably propped on top of Hyunjin's, matching pairs of beige pajamas seamlessly merging into one another. The sweet scent of shampoo lingers in the air—a fragrance Hyunjin carefully massaged into your hair twenty minutes ago, his fingers still as gentle as they grazed your scalp, now at the age of twenty-six.
Nearly two decades later, Hyunjin still knows that he loves you. It is a different one from the love he felt at seven—a metamorphosis akin to the moon's phases, from crescent to full, distinct yet continuous. It clung to his being, melted into the very essence of his soul.
"Just how many white shirts do you own?" you giggle, folding another pair of Hyunjin's clothing, the melody of your laughter still rattling the insides of his heart. He smiles sheepishly, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before responding, "You wear half of them with me."
"Your clothes are mine. You agreed on this when you proposed to me," you state matter-of-factly.
"And what else did I agree on?" he smiles, placing two pairs of matching socks in the basket—yours and his.
"That you'd kiss me instead of doing the laundry," you say mischievously, and he chuckles, tilting his head back. The clothes are momentarily forgotten as he lowers your body onto the couch, one hand cradling your head.
"You know I can't say no to you," he smiles, left dimple appearing as it always does when you're near.
"I know," you grin, pulling him down by the hem of his pajamas, your lips meeting his.
Hyunjin still kisses you with the same quiet passion, slowly, as if rediscovering you all over again. His hand cradles your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek gently, as his lips find yours again and again—rosy, plump, seeking solace in your familiar warmth.
He's always been drawn to mysteries, grand things, and overwhelming emotions that defy comprehension. Things he'd never fully know, things he'd never be bored of. Yet, with you, it's different; he knows you, he's learned you, and he loves you more every day—purposefully, by choice, because he can't fathom a reality where he doesn't.
His lips press upon yours one last time before he pulls you onto his lap, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "You smell nice," he whispers.
"I smell like you."
"I know," he smiles, a gentle breeze escaping his lips and caressing your skin.
He closes his eyes, savoring the quietness, the domesticity of the scene—the folded laundry on the table, the background hum of the TV, the meal you'll cook later, waltzing under the fridge's light. You, the one love of his life—the small love and the grand one, the first love and the last one. The embodiment of it all.
Your arms drape around his shoulders as you relax in his hold, your breaths syncing into a tranquil rhythm. He's built himself a home in the ridges of your collarbones, a place for him to rest in the crook of your shoulder blade. Both of you are okay, both of you are safe.
"Do you remember when we were seven? We traveled together for the first time," you speak after a while, a weighty emotion enveloping your voice.
"I do."
"You promised me we'd run away when we grow older."
"I did."
"I don't want to run anymore. I'm content with you, right here," you whisper, and the words feel like sunflowers blooming in Hyunjin's chest. "I was so scared of growing up, of never feeling like I belong. To myself, to anyone. But I do, with you."
"Always," he pulls away, bringing your hand to his mouth, leaving sweet kisses on your ring finger.
"Thank you, my Hyune," you say, tears gathering in your eyes like morning dewdrops on leaves. "Thank you for peeling my oranges."
Your nose brushes against his, his thumb drawing circles on your palm.
"Thank you for pretending you don't know how to."
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the-witch-of-one-piece · 11 months
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Dad Ran Haitani x Mom Reader: My baby you'll be ft Uncle Rindou WC:1300+ TW: baby, pure fluff Synopsis: Dotting dad over his little princess decides to cut his lovely braids off. You love his new look but will his daughter like it? A/n: The book the he reads to her is truly such a beautiful book its called 'I love you forever'. Makes me cry every time I read it 🥺💜 I hope you enjoy! (unedited) MINORS DNI
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“Daddy will be back in a little bit, okay princess?” He held his daughter, giving her a big hug and kiss. His 10 month old daughter giggled, her small hands touching her fathers face. He doted over his precious princess so much and always wanted to keep a smile on her face. The term daddy's little girl applied to the both of them.
You plucked your little one from his arms as you both were at the doorway that lead out of your home, giving him a sweet kiss. It had been a while since he changed his signature braids he grew accustomed to for a while. But now he needed something new with his hair. “Love you, be careful.”
“You know I will.” stealing one more kiss “love you too.”
Both you and your daughter watched Ran get into the car “bye bye daddy!” reaching for here hands showing her how to wave. He gave a smile as he waved from inside the car. Pulling out of the drive way you began to see him drive off.
Ran took his time when going into the salon. Seeing his braids being chopped out his hair bleached and redyed. His brows even being reydyed to match his hair. He would spend hours in the salon making sure his hair was properly cared for. When he finally saw the hairstyle he was very pleased with how he looked. The soft lilac hair color as he ran his fingers through his hair. Exiting the salon he could feel the wind blowing through his hair. He was eager to head home and show his new hair style.
Your daughter was down for her nap when you began to prepare for dinner. Ran quietly snuck into the home, he could smell the yummy food coming from the kitchen. It was quiet knowing his daughter might be down for her nap. Your back was turned as you were by the stove. You could feel a pair of lanky arms wrapping around your waist. You were slightly startled “scared ya babe.” he leaned in kissing your cheek.
Turning around, your eyes widen. You were amazed by the new look running your fingers through his soft hair. “ Well mister I don’t think my husband wouldn’t appreciate you holding me like this.” teasing him as your arms drape around his neck.
He raised his brow giving a smirk “what your husband doesn't know, won’t hurt him.” pressing his lips against yours. “You like it?” he asked.
“I love it, it suits you really well.”
“How long has my princess been asleep?”
“About an hour, Rin came over thinking you were here when the baby saw him, she got excited. When he tried to leave she cried so he stayed and they both eventually fell asleep.”
When it came to his niece Rin enjoyed spending time with her, even though complain about his niece becoming clingy to him when he was over. It showed how much his niece loved him and he loved it but would never admit it to you both.
“I’m up I’m up.” you both heard Rins lazy voice as he was scratching the back of his head. Rin looked over at his brothers taking a second glance. “Well that's different.”
It only took a few minutes of Rin waking up. The three of you heard your daughter waking up. “Oi Rin can you go grab her? I wanna surprise her with the new look”
“yeah yeah.” Rin knew his niece would have a fit but didn't want to say anything. “get your phone and record her.” He mumbled quietly to you as he walked to get his niece. You grabbed your phone then proceeded to follow your husband to the living room.
Ran quickly grabbed one of the blankets from the couch. Taking a seat he placed the blanket over his head. Rin brought out his niece who seemed to have a good nap with her smile spread across her face. “ Where's daddy’s princess??” He asked . His daughter's head turned to the couch and saw from what it looked like what her daddy was wearing before he left to “bring her over.” He couldn’t see her but he could here her saying ‘dada’
Rin looked over at you and mocked the word ‘Record’, He placed his niece on her fathers lap. “Dada '' she kept saying . Ran held her making sure she wouldn’t fall.
“I missed you too princess.” He spoke as the blanket was still over his face. His daughter tugged at the blanket making the blanket fall off her fathers face.
He saw his daughter's face, a bright smile that only lasted for a moment then noticed a smile disappearing on her face as she looked at him. She heard her daddy but this wasn’t him, she had a shocked look of ‘your not my dad’ all over her face.
He was a bit concerned with her facial expression “princess what’s the matter?” he asked as he caressed her chubby cheek. He could see her bottom lip sticking out her eyes beginning to tear up. She looked over at you then her uncle and began to cry as she stuck out her hands towards Rin. Before Rin could reach his upset niece, Ran brought her closer to his chest. Her hands were on his shoulders as she cried. Did she not recognize him? “Baby girl it's me daddy.” wiping her eyes before kissing her cheek.
She was not having it. She didn't know who this new man was but it wasn’t her daddy. Her cries became louder “you're pissing her off, gimme her.” Rin picks her up. You turned off the phone going towards your daughter to make sure she was okay.
Ran’s heart broke as his daughter refused to go to him. His little one couldn’t recognize him with his new hairstyle. He was almost kicking himself for doing it. She just had a melt down and he didn’t want to make her upset. “Honey, you're okay. It’s daddy.” you point towards Ran. Her bottom lip still sticking out, she looked over at Ran. He gave a weary smile he stood up with his hands reaching for her. Nope still not having it. She turned her head away burying her head into her uncle's shoulder. “Babe, she may just need some time to get used to it.” you gave him a smile
“I hope so.” Ran let a low sign out. Your daughter was practically on your hip, or on Rins hip until he left home. He saw her favorite book thinking maybe if he read it to her like he usually does maybe she would notice it's her daddy. She was freshly washed and had her pajamas on. She looked a bit tired. You took a seat next to Ran, your daughter sat on your lap. She noticed the small book in Ran’s hand. As he began to read the book she felt a bit more calmer. He would bring the book closer to her so she could see the photos “I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.” Just with this phrase alone his baby girl felt more at ease. You noticed she scooted herself into her father's lap as he continued to read the book. She curled up in his arms, rubbing her eyes as she yawned. It was towards the end of the book and noticing her eyes are becoming heavy he said the last part “I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.” He looked down to see his little princess curled in his arms asleep. Placing the book down. His armed wrapped around her. He placed a kiss on the top of her head. “My baby you’ll be.” Ran held her for a while before taking her to bed.
When placing her in bed kissing her good night. He closed the door to her room. It didn’t take long for him to find you changing into your pajamas. He needed to pick me up since he was a little bit down still. Deciding to continued the little playful talk from earlier “I see your husband is still out. I guess I get you all to myself. " he begin to unbutton his shirt as he walked towards you. As the shirt fell to the floor his long slender fingers brushing your hair off your shoulders. The corner of his eyes caught his phone lighting up on the night stand. He ignored it when it first lit up but seeing how it was lighting up more frequent. It could be a important chat. "hold on babe." Walking to his phone seeing it was a new group chat. It was the video of his daughter reacting to his new hair. His friends commenting with memes 'your not my dad' . He wasn't going to respond putting his phone on silent for the rest of the night. He looked over at you knowing you were the one who recorded it and sent it to Rin. The looked you knew so familiar that excited you yet knowing you weren't going to get a break tonight.
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