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#this painting almost defeated me
actiniumwrites · 7 months
Text
𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇
synopsis: wriothesley finds out you have a crush on someone and somehow manages to guess it’s on literally everyone but himself
characters: wriothesley x gn!reader
wc: 1.4k
warnings: fluff, a tiny pinch of angst and insecurity, my poor attempt at humor, slight miscommunication, friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, swearing, first time writing for wriothesley so he might be ooc
notes: i almost made this angst to fluff but then decided i need to stop adding angst into literally everything i write (even though there’s like a tiny pinch of angst in here too 🙄). anyway, wriothesley is a lot harder to write than i thought he would be so i apologize if he seems ooc here
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“Heard you gotta crush on someone,” Wriothesley teases as he walks into his office where you sit on one of his couches. You don’t even hear him walk in, too engaged in the book you were reading to pass time until you had to go through hundreds of inmate records to find something Neuvillette had requested.
His declaration is so sudden it almost makes you spit out the tea you had stolen from him.
Your eyes go wide as you stare at where he moves to lean against the front of his desk, arms crossed and waiting for an answer with that stupid smirk of his, “Hey now, that tea is expensive, so don’t go wasting it, okay?”
“Who told you about that?” you press for answers, a hint of anger in your voice as you ignore his previous statement about the tea. He had plenty to spare anyway.
Wriothesley’s smirk widens a bit, “So it is true.”
Damn him.
You don’t even bother trying to make an excuse, knowing your best friend all too well. He’d pick apart your words like weeds in a garden, finding meaning in them that you hadn’t even intended.
“And what if it is true?” you cross your arms defensively, glaring at him from across the room.
“At least tell me who it is,” he says as he rests his palms on the wooden desk behind him. When you don’t give in to his pleading, he playfully scoffs, “Oh c’mon, I’m your best friend! It’s kinda an obligation for you to tell me these things.”
You turn away, fixating your gaze on a nearby wall adorned with some weird painting he had hung awhile back, “Oh yeah? Since when? Last I checked there aren’t any rule books for being friends with someone. I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.”
“It’s Neuvillette, isn’t it?” he smiles knowingly. Perhaps that was why you were always the one receiving tasks from the Chief Justice instead of him — a guess at best, but enough evidence to convince him Neuvillette was the one.
No, you idiot. It’s you.
You snap your head back toward him, “What? No! I don’t like Neuvillette…not like that, at least. He’s nice and all, but I don’t think I’d be able to date the guy.”
“Damn, I really thought I had that one,” Wriothesley mumbles in defeat, pushing himself off the desk and instead moving to walk around the room as he thinks. It scares you. The fact that he’s so particular with facts and little details that it’s only a matter of time before he collects all the pieces to the puzzle and figures out he’s the one you like. What would he say when that happens? “Too nice, huh? So you like someone a little colder, then.”
Damn it, he got you again!
You don’t answer him.
“Not even going to try to deny it?”
“No,” you grumble to yourself, slumping further into the couch, “you’re only going to dig further anyway.”
He gives a satisfied hum, “Right, so it’s Clorinde then. I mean c’mon, we don’t get a lot of visitors, so it has to be her. She fits the description too.”
You exhaustedly sigh and swipe a hand over your face dramatically, done with his antics, “It’s not her either. And there is no ‘description.’”
He perks up in a way that makes you way too uncomfortable, “Navia?”
“No, I’ve never even met her aside from like one time two years ago,” you refute, sliding further down on the couch to fully lie down and shut your eyes, “I don’t get why you’re so excited over this.”
Wriothesley thinks for a moment before squinting his eyes, “Don’t tell me you have a crush on a prisoner?”
You teasingly peek an eye open while leaning back to look at him, “And if I did?”
“You better not,” he warns, pointing a stern finger at you like you were a prisoner and not his coworker.
You laugh to yourself at his sudden change of mood, “Relax, I was only joking!”
“Not funny,” he says unamused, prepared to pull out the prison’s rule book and slap it over your head if you did, “I’m really runnin’ out of people here.”
“Yeah, okay,” you say sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, “thousands of people live in Fontaine. You’ll figure it out eventually.”
You really hope he doesn’t.
The following ten minutes consist of Wriothesley irritatingly pacing around the room and mumbling all sorts of names to himself. Some of which you recognized, others you had never even heard of before. And, despite all of your countless no’s to his guesses, he never gives up. Nor does he realize the answer is right in front of him.
“Just give it up already,” you finally interrupt as he stops in front of you.
A heavy sigh falls from Wriothesley’s lips as he collapses onto the couch, narrowly missing where your legs were outstretched. Defeatedly, he lays his head against the back of the sofa, shutting his eyes as he thinks a little harder. “Oh my god,” he says suddenly, head shooting up to look at you, “…don’t tell me.”
No way. Did he figure it out?
Your breath captures in your throat as his eyes flicker back and forth between your own, searching for some sort of truth. He knows. Your best friend knows that you have feelings for him — and not just the platonic kind.
His brows furrow and his face morphs into one of disgust. It makes your heart drop; the way he’s looking at you.
He doesn’t feel the same way.
“I can’t believe it,” he clicks his tongue in disgust, crossing his arms and turning his attention away from you, “you like Furina.”
Your jaw drops to the floor and suddenly you don’t feel bad anymore, “I actually can’t believe you just said that. Archons, I think you need to visit Sigewinne. I mean, seriously! Furina? Of all people!”
He grins and shrugs carelessly, “I don’t know? She was the last person I could think of.”
“Something is seriously wrong with you.”
“Clearly not so wrong that I couldn’t figure out that the person you actually like is me.”
“Oh please, I don’t even—wait, what? You knew?!”
A boisterous laugh erupts suddenly as you stare at him with wide eyes. You sit up on the couch quickly, slapping his shoulder as he continues to laugh, “Sorry, sorry!”
You don’t find it amusing, “I—when did you figure it out?”
His laugh eventually subsides into a drawn out sigh and his blue eyes soften a bit as they gaze into your own, “I’m not an idiot, you know? I wouldn’t be running this place if I was.”
“Right,” you mumble awkwardly, averting your gaze from his, “so, um, were you just doing all that to lighten the mood so you could let me down easily or…?”
“Or…what?” Wriothesley mocks you, a playful smirk pulling at his lips.
You roll your eyes with a scoff, “don’t make me say it.”
He spares you, luckily. It’s unlike him, but he doesn’t care to joke with you any longer when the subject is so serious, “Yes, I feel the same way. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“No, I totally wanted to hear you say you hate me and want me dead,” you say sarcastically, trying to fight a smile.
“I’m being serious, I really do like you,” Wriothesley presses, ignoring the way you’re becoming awkward from the nervousness floating in the air.
You finally exhale the breath you had been guarding in your chest, relieved that this didn’t go as horribly as you once thought it would.
The alarm sounding for dinner goes off after and you both stand from your places on the couch, “So what do we do now that that’s out of the way?”
Wriothesley falls into step next to you, holding the doors to his office open to let you out first, “We have our first date in the cafeteria, of course.”
Your face drops and you stop in your tracks to glare at him, “That better be a joke.”
He laughs it off quickly, not thinking you’d take it so seriously. Eagerly, he grabs your hand tightly in his as he pulls you to the exit of the Fortress, “Relax, I’m just teasing you! You deserve only the best, after all.”
“You are so annoying.”
“Only for you, sweetheart.”
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beansprean · 3 months
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Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!
oh my god they're engaged to be engaged...
(also this is entirely separate from the izzyguana series fyi, but my god I have drawn their little island so many times by now)
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Wide shot of Stede and Ed's ramshackle house on a hill of long grass, a forested mountain sliding into the sea behind them as the sun peeks above the waves, painting them orange and yellow. Some work has been put into the house since they found it: the holes in the roof have been boarded over or covered with tarp, a rickety porch railing and staircase off the left side have been built on from scraps, oil lamps have been hung on each corner, and an addition on the right side is in progress, rocks stacked on the wood-slat roof and tarps hanging from unfinished walls. Planks of wood, tools, and fishing poles are leaned up against the porch, the path to the house has been cleared out and defined by stones and shells, and a wooden sign out front has the words "Best Little Inn By The Sea! +fishing equipment" carved into it. Stede and Ed, wearing a teal blouse with brown leather trousers and purple tee with black leather trousers respectively, are standing on the porch and looking out over the land, arms around each others waist. Stede raises his arm in a wave and shouts, "Great to see you two! Come again any time!" In the foreground, Pete and Lucius are walking down the path away from the house, looking tired. Pete has one arm around Lucius's shoulders and his eyes are closed, head listing to the side. Lucius covers his mouth as he yawns, lifting the other to throw a halfhearted wave over his shoulder. 1b. Waist-up in profile of Stede and Ed on the porch, sunrise behind them. Closest to the viewer, Stede stares out after their guests, hand lowering, smile fading to something a little bittersweet. Ed leans into Stede, free hand in his pants pocket, and rests his head in the crook of his neck as he follows Stede's gaze with a thoughtful smile. Ed asks, "You ever think about that for us?" 1c. Repeat. Stede's hand drops further, wrist dangling, as he turns his face toward Ed with a bewildered smile. "What?" Ed straightens from his cuddle, embarrassed, but keeps his right hand on Stede's waist. His left gestures randomly as he scrunches up his face, avoiding Stede's gaze. He explains, "Y'know...the matie-monie thing, whatever."
2a. Zoom out slightly; Stede takes a step back toward the house to face Ed as he pivots with his back toward the yard. They are still connected waist-to-hand. Stede plants his free hand on his hip with a smug little smirk and says, "Well I certainly hope that's not your proposal." Ed waves his free hand in a 'stop' motion, flustered as he meets his partner's eyes, and splutters "Wha- no! No, mate, I just... 'M having a dialogue." 2b. Repeat, zoom in. Ed dips his chin to look up at Stede through his lashes, red-faced and accepting defeat as he mumbles, "...How would you want it to go, though? Hypothetically." Stede giggles helplessly, free hand leaving his hip to rest fingertips on Ed's chest. 2c. Repeat, the background cutting out in favor of the sunrise occurring between them. They are almost forehead-to forehead, both of Stede's hands now pressed to Ed's chest and idly playing with the tips of his hair. Ed stares at his face with hooded eyes. Stede smiles, gaze lowered to focus on his hands, and says "Oh, I don't know. A bit of romance, you know. Dazzle." 2d. Repeat, zoom in to bust, background now mottled oranges and yellows. Ed raises his head to look past Stede with a frown, brow furrowed in confusion as he repeats blankly, "Dazzle." Stede hums idly to himself, concentrating on petting Ed's chest. 2e. Repeat. Stede lifts his head with a little smile, putting them nose-to-nose and adds, "I wouldn't say no to some fireworks." Ed flusters at the pointed reminder of their first time, cheeks turning red and a wobbly smile creeping across his face.
3a. Repeat. Stede asks, "What about you?" Ed leans back from their embrace, smile turning incredulous as he repeats, "Me?!" 3b. Waist up of Ed as he turns, sunrise at his back, to lean his left arm against the porch railing. He glances over the yard with a resigned little frown, fiddling with a piece of his hair with his right hand. He replies, "I dunno. Never really thought about it." 3c. Chest up of Stede as he mirrors Ed's pose with a fond if slightly amused smile, stairs and forest behind him. Offscreen, Ed continues, "Bet you had a whole scrapbook of ideas, eh?" 3d. Repeat. Stede straightens with a "Well!" and turns his body to face the house. 3e. Knees-up from the house POV as both men lean against the porch railing, the yard, ocean, and brightening sky beginning to streak itself with orange beyond. Stede is facing the viewer, back to the yard, leaning with his elbows braced on the railing. He aims his gaze to the side with a bit of a pained smile and says, "When Mary and I were engaged, a scrapbook wouldn't have been much use." Ed is turned toward Stede, left elbow propped on the railing. He scowls and sticks out his tongue at mention of Mary. 3f. Repeat. Stede turns his head toward Ed, who quickly tucks his petty tongue back in his mouth and schools his expression into one of interest. Stede continues, "Everything had been decided for us already. Never really got to the proposal part."
4a. Repeat. Ed turns his body more fully toward Stede, folding his arms on the railing and leaning his head over them with a warm smile. Stede raises his eyebrows in surprise and goes slightly pink as Ed says, "I'll have to make it really good, then." 4b. Stede turns his body toward Ed, left arm sliding against the railing behind him and right hand cupping Ed's chin as he leans closer, nose to nose. Ed's eyes hood, looking at Stede's mouth as is curls into a loving smile. Stede responds, "Can't wait." 4c. Repeat. Ed suddenly goes pale and blurts out, "You'll say yes, though, right?" Stede freezes in surprise, lips puckered in preparation of a kiss. 4d. Repeat. Stede throws his head back in a loud bark of laughter, straightening up and turning fully toward Ed to cup his cheek in his right hand and his shoulder with the other. Ed aims an embarrassed, besotted smile at him as Stede replies, "Ed, of course! Who could say no to you?"
5a. Repeat, both now in profile. The orange and yellow light of the sunrise is slowly spreading across the sky from the left. Ed straightens up from his lean to bring their foreheads together, still a bit red-cheeked and with a nervous edge to his smile as he lowers his gaze. He says, "You can say no if you want, though." Stede smiles at him with every ounce of tenderness he has, hands firm on his cheek and shoulder. He replies, "There's nothing I want more than to say yes to you, Ed. Permanent ink, remember?" 5b. Repeat. Stede moves his right hand from Ed's cheek to hook around his back, tugging him closer as he leans himself back. Ed stumbles forward with a helpless grin, cheeks even redder, bracing himself with his right hand on Stede's chest. When their eyes meet, Stede's smile turns teasing and faux-sinister, continuing, "You're stuck with me regardless. Foreverrr~" 5c. Repeat, larger and brighter, as Stede and Ed finally come together in an affirming kiss, the land behind them retreating to allow the sea and sky to fill the background. The sun finally breaches the horizon, sending glitter sparkling across the waves and gilding the pair in warm golden light. Ed's right hand is cupping the side of Stede's neck, thumb tracing through his sideburns, and Stede's right is hooked fully around his shoulders, cushioned in his soft hair. They are both smiling into the kiss, unhurried and in harmony.
6a. Repeat as they pull back from the kiss just far enough to meet each other's gaze, arms still around each other, Ed's right hand brushing Stede's cheek and Stede's buried in the back of Ed's hair. Ed smirks flirtatiously, eyes hooded, and says, "You know... I hear there's a traditional engagement sex sabbatical, too." Stede matches his expression, left hand sliding down Ed's shoulder to press against his lower back. Stede replies playfully, "Oh, is there? I suppose I can plan that part, then." 6b. Repeat. Ed brings his left hand up to mirror his right, cupping both of Stede's cheeks, and arches up on his toes to lean over Stede with a teasing grin. His movement forces Stede to arch his back in the first motions of a dip, hands briefly flying free of their grip on his future fiance to try to catch his balance. Their lips a centimeter apart, Ed hums, "Mmm, gimme a rehearsal, first." Stede tosses his head back with a giggle in response, eyes closed, cheeks pink. Hearts float above their heads. 6c. Shot at the bottom of the hill Stede and Ed are stationed on, the packed-dirt path to the house curving upward in the background, the stones and shells now more conservatively scattered. Amidst the tall grass and tropical plants lining the way are handmade wooden signs shaped like arrows pointing the way to the inn. Words carved into them say "this way!" and "best inn!" Pete and Lucius are in the foreground, walking down the hill towards the viewer, Pete's right arm still looped around his husband's shoulders. They still look very tired with dark circles beneath their eyes - Pete still hasn't opened his. Lucius has, barely, and is scowling his way forward with a furrowed brow, declaring, "We are leaving them the worst review." Pete nods solemnly. Text nearby points to them and says 'kept up all night by noises'. Pink hearts and exclamation points spill out behind them from the bend in the path, echoing the lovey-dovey noises from above that must have made their stay so insufferable. /end ID
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luvjunie · 11 months
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— trust who?
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pairing: e-42!miles x 1610!fem!reader
contains: angst, mentions of death, yandere?miles
summary: you were taken from him a year ago, and now it seems the universe has given him a chance to do things differently— and this time, he’s not letting you go. no matter what. wc: 1,648
a/n: i got a lil carried away w this one won’t lie, lol. i love this song, and i put a little twist on it to match the plot. song lyrics are in small, bold italics
🎧: Not You Too - drake (ft. chris brown)
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“trust- trust who? trust me and i can set you free. left your man came straight to me you the real mvp, my love.“
dimmed hues of red lights spotted your vision as you came to, eyelids heavy as they peeled apart to reveal the room you assumed would be the setting of your demise. your head snapped up when you finally regained consciousness completely, fright-riddled eyes darting around to scout out an escape plan. but just as you went to move, you heard chains clink from above as your body swayed, and realized you couldn’t. you looked down to find your legs bound by rope, as well as your hands, as well as the rest of your body to a firm, stuffed sack.
feet dangling from the ground, you let your head fall back against the punching bag, defeated, and settled for your only remaining option. “help!” you yelled, voice rasped and weak. “help!” you tried again.
“don’t bother, can’t hear a thing down here.”
an artificial, robotic voice sounded from above, warranting your eyes to meet a masked man who resided on a high beam, crouched in place, watching you. how long had he been there?
he jumped down, catching himself and effortlessly hanging from one arm before his sneakers met the steel floor. they were untied, you noticed.
fear permeated your entire being as he strolled over to you, a semblance of uneasiness coursing through your veins, pumping into your blood and rendering your spine straight as the ominous figure stopped just in front of you.
“ple—please, i don’t know why i’m here,” the words tumbled out in a broken heap of suffocated, stifled sobs as tears welled in your eyes.
“shh, it’s okay,” he shushed you, a hand reaching out to gently pinch your chin, lifting your head back up after it’d fallen. his touch was delicate, like he was scared he’d break you.
“i’m not gonna hurt you, mi vida. i’d never hurt you… you know that.” the voice distorter cut out, your breath catching in your throat and your eyes fluttering over every inch of this strange mask. it reminded you of a ventilation mask you’d seen in miles’ room once, a mask used to protect your lungs from the fumes of spray paint.
as if your mind were working against you, you found yourself… calmer than you were just a few seconds ago, and even more confused. why did the voice sound so familiar?
something wasn’t right.
“who— who are you?” you gulped.
“you don’t remember me?” the shield over his face pulled back, the quiet sound of mechanical whirring as it revealed his face drowned out by the heavy thrumming of your heart in your ear drums.
here stood your boyfriend in front of you, the same features, but… different. his entire demeanor had shifted since you had last seen him just prior to whatever time it was now, to something sinister. his hair was longer, pulled back and braided. an accent, almost resemblant of his mother’s lingered on the tip of his tongue, dripping within the words he spoke. his face was harder, etched and carved like the weight of the world had chipped at it piece by piece, only to settle on his shoulders, leaving him with no time for himself.
this couldn’t be right.
“miles?” you choked out, mouth gaping to find your voice. “w-why… what am I—you’re, you… but different? what is this? where am i?”
a puff of air shot through his nostrils, his best effort at a laugh as a small, smile lifted the corner of his lips, braids gliding over his shoulders when his head tilted to the side.
“you came back to me, mi amor. and god…you’re even more beautiful than i remembered.” he breathed, eyes flickering with sorrow for just a moment as they studied your face, a moment that was almost too brief for you to catch.
when he’d encountered you and his counterpart on the roof with his uncle, he swore his prayers had been answered. somehow, someway you’d been brought back to him— the pain of witnessing the bullet that pierced through your chest that fateful night just a year ago drifted from his mind, and replaced itself with the all consuming, peaceful, sleeping image of you the minute he’d picked you up and cradled you in his arms. it pained him to inject you with the needle to sedate you, but he had no other choice, he could never truly hurt you. no, he would never do that.
“i missed you so much.”
“first time in a long time hurtin' deeply inside”
the hand sporting his mechanical gauntlet lifted towards you, fingers bending so the claws wouldn’t scrape your skin as he let the cold metal brush against the swell of your cheek. the sound of the steel joints ticking made you flinch, chest stuttering for breaths you couldn’t keep within your overworked lungs as you turned away from him.
you looked at him with so much fear in your eyes, when all he’s ever wanted to do was keep you safe, to protect you, to make you feel comforted and secure. and he failed at that before, he knows that, but he’s ready this time. he’d been given a second chance, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers again.
“it’s me, hermosa… it’s okay, you know me. just trust me, and i can set you free, and then we can be together. just like old times.” his brows furrowed, his tone one of sincerity as he assured you, but it did nothing for your racing heart.
“trust—“ you sputtered, voice wavering when you spoke. “trust who? you? how can i when you have me tied up like this?!” you balked, your bewilderment such a stark contrast from his bleak, seemingly unmoving disposition.
“yeah… i’m real sorry ‘bout that. uncle aaron made me, so i tried not to make ‘em too tight. you know something like this would never, ever be my idea.”
you shook your head, was this some kind of sick joke? why wasn’t he understanding a single word that was coming from your mouth?
you grew frustrated, time was not on your side, and honestly you were getting tired of this game.
“i don’t know anything about you, i don’t even know who you are. you might have his face, and—and his body,” you looked him up and down. “but you… you are not my miles.”
he felt a pang in his chest, the words you uttered, the way you said ‘my miles’, as if he wasn’t right here, as if he wasn’t right in front of you. the version of himself he’d buried in the ground with you just last year wanted to jump out and yell at you, plead with you, anything to make you see he could be just like your miles, because he was your miles.
“oh,” he pulled the skin of his cheek between his teeth as he turned away with an agitated nod, extending his arm out to point towards your miles, who was still unconscious, chin dropped to his chest as he hung from another punching bag.
“him?” his voice raised in volume and broke apart with desperation, a humorless chuckle unintentionally escaping his trembling lips. “what’s the difference? huh? tell me.” he demanded, nostrils flaring as he tried to maintain his composure, staring deep into the eyes of the girl who would’ve burned the whole world down with him if he asked. the girl who was in his grasp, right in this moment, yet still so far from his reach— reserved for the one who had everything that belonged to him.
your head whipped to where he pointed, and the moment your eyes landed on your boyfriend your blood ran cold, a pained gasp rippling your chest. “miles! oh god, please!” you called out for him as you struggled against your restraints, his counterpart interrupting you by blocking your line of your view with his body.
“cálmate,” he hummed, “he’s fine, just unconscious. i’m not cruel. is that how you remember me, mamí?” he questioned, voice bleeding with hurt.
your gaze drifted over to your miles again, hope swelling within you when you heard him groan.
“no, no, princesa. don’t look at him, look at me.” he urged.
he didn’t understand. you always used to say you would love him in every universe, that you’d find him in every lifetime, what happened to that?
“please, we need to get home, if we don’t… he won’t be able to save his father, he—he’ll die. you have to understand.” you pleaded, the tears finally bubbling over your waterline, streamlining down your cheeks.
“you are home! it’s me, mi amor, i’m right here. what about everything we went through?” he asked tenderly, voice full of hurt and eyes still soaking in the slight difference in your features. he was too distracted by the fact that the girl he thought he’d never see again, was right here in front of him to even try and comprehend what you were trying to say. “please, don’t cry. you know i hate seeing you cry.”
nothing else seemed to be working, so you settled for empathizing with him. he was still miles, after all, different universe or not, he was still the same person deep down. and from the way he was looking at you, love flowing from the eyes that held so much anguish within them, you knew some version of you had loved him, too. in the same way you loved your own.
“look, i’m sure i-“ you stopped to correct yourself, “she, loved you, but i’m not her. i’m not from here, and i’m sorry she’s gone, and i’m sorry you have to live with this pain, but, please… you have to let me go.” your tone was forbearing, words teetering off into a hushed plea, your lingering apprehension threatening to tear through the seam of your heartfelt spiel.
“let you go?”
you nodded tentatively.
he moved closer to you, to unbound you from this elevated prison, you assumed. because maybe, just maybe you’d managed to get through to him.
but this wasn’t your universe, and this… this was not your miles.
for the first time in your entirety of knowing miles morales, you felt your heart stop— and not in the way that brought a flurry of warmed, passioned butterflies to flutter within you— but in a way that invited his words to settle like ice in your bones, allowed panic and dread to inhabit your senses, clutching you in a selfish grasp of resentment that had no intentions of letting you go— you realized, as this time, his gloveless hand swiped away yet another tear you hadn’t even noticed you’d shed.
“why would i do that?”
“I've given you enough time. hurtin' deeply inside.“
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- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗
©luvjunie 2023
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r0ttenhearts · 9 months
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wasted on you
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idol! scaramouche x reader
sypnosis: after an argument with scaramouche he has to perform for a show. the show must go on, despite his mind being anywhere but the present
warnings: angst, arguments, no comfort
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“scara, we’re on in 5!”
“i know, i know. just give me a minute.”
scaramouche fumbled with his phone, typing a hasty response and sending it to you. it had only been a few hours since you last spoke, or fought. your angry voice still ringing in his ears, the harsh words left between you two as he left you there. alone.
it was eating at him, the way you looked so defeated. so done.
but you’d still show up for his show, right? you never missed one. even after bickering with him you’d always show. that smile on your face as he met you backstage after every show, embracing you while you praised him for a job well done.
he hoped that would be the case as he stood next to his friends, ready to perform that tedious dance routine heizou had choreographed for the group. painted nails adjusted his mic, a wide smile plastered on his face as he moved with his friends in sync.
his dark eyes scanned the crowd, looking for your usual spot he’d get you tickets for. the memory made him smile, your complaints of not getting the best view when he’d given you a different spot.
his smile faltered for a moment before perking back up as he realized you weren’t there. that comforting presence he’d always find when he felt the most nervous about his ability to perform wasn’t there. the one person he wanted to watch him wasn’t there.
“if you’re going to keep whining why don’t you just leave?”
“do you mean that scara?”
“i can’t even bother to look at your face right now. archons, don’t you see how lucky you are to have me? i could have anyone but i chose you.”
“maybe i shouldn’t have.”
his blood ran cold, recalling his words to you. he hadn’t meant it. he only said it in the moment because he was so angry. so angry about you pestering him. so what if your third year anniversary was on the same day of the concert? you knew how important it was to him, right?
more important than your relationship.
the rest of the concert droned on. he felt like a zombie, the same strenuously practiced choreography being repeated once more to a crowd of thousands of fans. the same songs he’d practiced with the group leaving his lips until they left the stage, heading back to their dressing rooms backstage.
he hoped, prayed, that you’d be there, sitting in his chair and ready to give him a hug. but you weren’t. he was greeted with nothing but an empty room, his makeup on the dresser left the way he had abandoned it. scara swallowed thickly as he pulled out his phone, opening your chat. his heart dropped seeing the “delivered” notification missing.
a dry laugh escaped his lips, almost collapsing at his dresser chair. his fingers tapping on his screen harshly.
scara: (y/n)? did you really block me
scara: this isn’t funny
scara: don’t be like this please.
scara: i didn’t mean it, you know that
he could feel a lump well up in his throat as the “not delivered” notification popped up. his phone was just acting up, right? you didn’t leave him. you couldn’t have. you promised him you’d always be there for him, especially after his mother left him.
it seemed cruel, the way he checked all of his social media accounts to see that you had blocked him on every single one. your bio now missing a ring emoji that you both once had on your profile.
tears welled up in his eyes, fist slamming on his dresser as he thought back to the argument. the very thing that had led to this.
to say he had been stressed was an understatement. with both the concert and your anniversary coming up he was faced with the decision to pick between the two. it almost seemed too easy, but he couldn’t forget the way your face fell as he told you he was still planning to attend to the performance.
you understood, didn’t you? perfect little (y/n) always waiting for him. watching him as he played out his part in the career he enjoyed. he could make it up to you after the concert, anyway. your anniversaries would always come again, but he couldn’t leave his friends high and dry for some relationship.
they needed him! it wasn’t even a question when it came to the two.
but if you knew that, why were you so angry? why did you shout at him that you wanted him to pick you instead?
“i’m sick of this, scara! i want to feel important to you! i don’t want to come second to none for the things you care about!”
“what are you bitching about now? you say this like we haven’t already done something for the other two. stop whining.”
the angry tears in your eyes as you shoved him was not something he was used to seeing. he didn’t think you’d be so upset at the news. even through your anger, your silence scared him more.
“i just thought.. i mattered to you, scara. i guess after three years i still don’t get the memo..”
“don’t be stupid (y/n). if you behave after we can do whatever you want for this stupid anniversary. you’d like that, wouldn’t you? you’re like a dog. threatening to bite but wagging your tail if i give you a crumb of a promise. it’s pathetic, really.”
“i didn’t mean it, i didn’t mean it.” he whispered to himself, eyes glued to your profile that now had him blocked.
“i wish you wouldn’t—“
“are you gonna keep bitching?”
that was the last night he saw you, the last night he ever called you his. he sat alone in that dressing room, his red eyeliner smeared as he cried into his hands. it wasn’t like him at all. he hadn’t realized how much he needed that bond, that intimacy he craved as he’d been lacking in it since he was a child.
maybe then he’d learn to cherish the things he had, before he pushed them away. he’s made a nasty habit of that, hasn’t he?
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a/n: i got the idea to throw this together after the ask from @magica-ren so thank you!
part II
taglist: @samarill @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @ayameei @aqualesha @msdevilis
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gangplanksorenji · 3 months
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Kinknuary Day 15: Blindfold/Sensory Deprivation
Pairing: aespa Karina x Male Reader
Word Count: 5,840
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
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“Alone today, huh?”
A visible shock was seen on Karina’s face as you startled her immediately and caught her off-guard, almost spat out her sweet concoction that she mostly treasured—well, for the time being.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Karina’s bewildered face tells exactly how she’s in utter shock seeing your face at such random times, but nonetheless, you see those orbs of hers lit up once she sees you.
“Well, can I just say I just want to come here and then by a great chance, I saw you here.” You cock an eyebrow at her and in response, she scoffs as she’s not falling for your lies here, again and maybe never again.
“Come on—” Karina pulls you by your wrists, closer to her before whispering to you, “—you came to see me here, don’t you? Plus—” Karina lets go of her tight onto your wrists as she relaxes herself and puts on a hubristic demeanor. “—you don’t really go to bars like this. Don’t make me a liar—I know you.”
Well, that’s like one of the two reasons why you chose to be even at this bar even though you’re always hectic to come and most preferably, wanting to stay home just to binge-watch some movies or play all the same four games you love playing—you came to see her, intentionally with a single goal in mind wanting to be fulfilled or you won’t be able to get a good night’s sleep.
Clicking your tongue as she cracks the code, you finally admitted your true purpose on being here and that didn’t lead Karina surprised in any way. “Okay, okay—I just came here to check on you because of what happened yesterday.” Your tone is sincere as Karina can hear it laced between every word you say as she stops drinking and averted her attention towards you.
“About what? What happened yesterday?” Karina’s tone is fused with puzzlement as she seems to not know what you’re talking about but you know how she’s brushing it off by trying to pretend to be oblivious and that won’t work on your watch, nonetheless what may happen. Sitting right beside her and placing your arms onto the table, you face her as your disposition weighs gravitas.
“I heard the news—you broke up with him and you’re here to drink it off, don’t you.”
You can see the visible frustration on Karina’s face the second you bring up the topic as she manages to maintain her obliviousness but that won’t last for long as it’s bound to break at any time now.
Karina scoffs as she raises her voice a little, provoking her inner rage from bringing up the forgetful event now, “ What do you even mean by that? Nothing even happened!”
“Oh, Karina, Karina, Karina—stop telling me that and I’m here to talk that with you.” Concern paints all over your face and as much as she’s incredibly stubborn in denying the truth, you chose to really be patient with her and address the situation where both parties won’t be provoked with anger and deep grudges at the end. “By the way, where are your friends? Aren’t they supposed to comfort you—”
“What are you even talking about??” Karina angrily boils her frustration out from even diving further onto the topic as she’s still in denial, the dormant rage inside her waiting to be boiled up and erupt soon like a volcano. “Also, they’re all busy and I want to be alone by myself!”
“Hey, hey—” You grabbed her wrists and made her face you as enchantingly, your gaze makes her calm down as you reassure her with your mellow tone and with touch on her hands “—I’m sorry for bringing that up but please, talk to me.”
Karina’s unstoppable fury finds its absolute demise as it slowly dissipates, your touch and your tone calming her down as she feels defeated and you can see it in her expressions and most of all, her eyes—her eyes that never lie. You know that you’re one of her weaknesses and can’t help but unveil the truth whenever she’s with you—for multiple case—and that's the beauty of it: you have each others’ trust and no one can break that apart, not even yourselves as the platonic love of being friends is within the both of you.
“Talk to me about what happened, Karina.”
You’re maybe crossing the line in terms of her privacy and the will to reflect but nonetheless, your advances are meant for the best for her as she probably needs someone to talk to, personally even though she’s not clearly vocal about it.
Now, gaining the courage and letting herself be in a state of tranquil, she lets herself be vocal about everything as she feels the utter comfort with you and with alone, puts a smile on your face. Karina then scoffs and lets out a deep sigh before looking at the distance, feeling vexed about the situation she just saw. “I saw him with someone else, kissing t-that another girl…” 
You can sense Karina’s walls breaking down, piece by piece as she was deeply hurt at what she saw, leaving a wound down her heart that she absolutely can’t bear to deal with. Her voice gets hoarse as the emotions inside her are winning yet she still manages to tell you what happened despite the struggle she’s dealing with. “And like, I was like, a-at the distance and then, my w-world just fell down after that…”
Concern paints your face as you were disheartened at what happened as you think that hurt much worse knowing that it all happened ephemerally as she probably can’t comprehend how she’s badly hurt. “Oh fuck—I’m sorry t-to hear that, Karina…”
“Oh, you don’t n-need to be sorry.” Karina wipes her tears gracefully with her index finger as she faintly smiles at you, feeling a little grateful on listening to her. Of course, your curiosity took over you as you wanted to know more of what she saw, knowing for a fact that you may gather information or to do something with it.
“Have you seen the one he cheated with? Any features you saw on the girl?”
Karina scoffs again, yet this time, anger is starting to boil down as her face permeates vengeance and utter discomfort trying to think of that girl he cheated with but nonetheless, she gave you some vague answers. “I don’t really know ‘cause I didn’t really look at her but she’s probably my height and she has wavy, red hair—I think. Tch, don’t want to talk about that bastard anymore.”
You can definitely see how annoyed she is whenever she talks about the event she would want to completely forget. Knowing such vague information can’t really put you up onto a desirable conclusion to help her with a revenge, you’d probably want to keep yourself off at their problem as you want no more harm or much better, to completely brush this off as you want Karina’s heart to probably mend slowly with you by her side.
Yes, even if the line’s crossed only with being just friends with her, you show passion and support towards her and it;s further ignites with your true feelings of love for her. Yes, that’s right—you genuinely love her to the point that you’re being on her tail and obsessed with her but those are the days where you’re completely depressed and she herself helped out of it and ever since that happened, you’ve never looked at her the same way again (in a good way, though).
Your love for her is unconditional, that you only love to see her genuinely happy as always, and you’re willing to make her happy whenever she’s feeling down if possible… and that’s true love.
When Karina’s about to take another sip, you stop her as she’s shocked with your actions yet you’re just implying a better change for her as it’s for her own good, not yours. “Alcohol’s not always the way, Karina.”
Of course, Karina lightly glares at you, pouting slightly before giving her reasoning, “Come on, I paid for this—just let me finish it.”
“Okay, but that’s your last, alright? Don’t want you to go out of here drunk that you couldn’t see straight.”
Of course, she has a point and you let her be. It’s at least better than most of the ways you’re thinking when she’s depressed or not in the mood and you’ll do everything to enlighten that glowing delight she always had. Yes, you’re determined to make her happy and that’s what makes her grateful to have a friend like you…
---
“I think we should go home.”
“To where, Karina?”
“My place—you can also stay for the night since I ditched his cheating ass.” Karina retorts, displaying her rage towards him and her authority over her place.
“Damn—never knew you’re brutal.” 
“What do you mean I’m brutal? He definitely deserves it!” Karina exclaimed as she stated her point and you absolutely got it—her goddamn deserves it as you just played her with your own sarcasm, making her smile a little.
Even though with the free road and minimal traffic ahead, the ride was still killing enough time as you didn’t mind it, not when the both of you jammed onto the songs throughout the travel and even talked about some interesting topics that sure piqued both your interests as the both of you get to know each other even more. You can sense her happiness slowly recharging back to its original state as her constant bright smiles and laughs with you are enough of an evidence and that alone makes yourself feel gleeful for her own good.
“Well, I think, in your place it is…”
Well, if that’s the final conclusion, then you’ll be happy to be with for the rest of the night and maybe, something may go onto the road of no-return or something we called as a spicy one…
---
“Wow, it's still as good as when I last came here.”
Karina can’t hide the chuckle she’s doing as she feels flustered with the said compliment, knowing that she organized it all well and it’s probably a man’s dream to have a home this simple yet luxurious in anyone’s eyes.
“Well, evil spirits may come and go but it’s all looking fine—you wanna eat something, though?” 
With Karina’s polite approach towards you, you might not want to decline her offer as you’re on the verge of some unbearable hunger yourself. So, without a doubt, you agreed and stood up, approaching her as she’s still busy looking for food in the fridge.
“Do you want some fried chicken? I can microwave it if you want—”
“Yeah, sure, Rina. I’ll do it myself so you don’t have to and we’ll share this…”
You then grabbed the glass tupperware from the refrigerator full of fried chicken as you prepared the ceramic plate and grabbed four for the both of you. Karina smiles from your gentlemanly advances as you initiated to do the job yourself and even though she would want herself to do the job, you just insisted on doing it yourself and that makes her heart flutter a little. You then put those delicious chicken into the microwave and set up the timer, time being the tool to test your patience as you turned to talk to her in order to kill some time of waiting.
“By the way, why are you dressed like that even though you just went to the bar?” Again, curiosity peaks your interest as you’re a bit puzzled on why she’s looking like a majestic princess with that glittery one-piece dress with only a couple of her time to spare to just drink and reflect?
“Well, what if I told you that I just wanted to dress like this?” Karina feigns her denial again, as she’s not even trying to convince you with her demeanor as the lack of gravitas made you conclude that she did something before she even went to the bar.
“And that’s a major ‘what if’, Karina. You went somewhere that’s why you dressed like that, didn't you?” You’re tone laces hubris, as you know that she went somewhere elegant to dress with the same energy of elegance. She won’t deny herself—even though she technically didn’t, and just enlightened you with a proposition.
“Okay—me and my friends went to a party and I was hesitant at first but I gave in. Also, I’m sorry I lied to you, again…”
Well, that makes much more of a sense and not going to lie, the first time you laid your eyes on her, it was an enchanting experience—it felt like your world went into an abrupt stop as you’re mesmerized on how drop-dead gorgeous she is in all aspects you can think of: her pretty, perfectly-shaped face that's visuals are blowing your mind, her porcelain skin that you’d just want to run over your fingers to feel its smoothness, her hourglass figure and that dress complimenting her curves so well and more than what you could possibly tell.
Yes, you’re goddamn in love once you saw her and you won’t be a hypocrite and deny anything unlike her—it always has been this way yet you’re just scared to confess your true feelings towards her because of her relationship and now knowing she’s pretty much in a ‘single’ status, you’ll take this opportunity slowly as your chances would be higher.
Maybe, even though it’s selfish and partly wrong on your side, there’s no harm that can be done as you won’t lose everything and will have everything to win.
“Nah, it’s fine, Rina. Also, you look great in that outfit by the way. I love it on you.”
Karina inches closer on you while you’re still leaning onto the center table at the kitchen, waiting for the food to be heated. As she approaches you closely, you could sense some rising tension from her but brush it off, thinking it’s just one of your fallacies and delusions yet it becomes more evident when she’s just inches away from you, and smiling genuinely before eyeing on your chest and maintaining eye contact towards you.
“Thanks, glad you love this outfit on me but—” Karina intoxicates you with her sweet, alcoholic breath and then catching you off-guard with a torrid kiss that made your eyes lit up in shock and excitement, her immediate actions causing you to panic, your heart tripling its beat but nonetheless, you treasure every second invested onto the kiss as you eagerly reciprocated. You find the taste of her lips addicting as you fall under her spell and you find yourself diving deeper into the intimacy of such a hot kissing session.
The earlier turmoil was now calmed as the storm is now raging between the both parties, letting both your aggressions act up as your hands roams around her waist and her body and hers roaming around the back of your head which further ignites the fiery fervor between the both of you. 
Such good things can be met with their own denouement as she pulls out of your lips’ embrace slowly, and then looking at your eyes endearingly and said, “I know what you're feeling—” Karina then points at your chest, onto your heart and continued, “—I can feel right here, beating for me.”
Well, her clever mind found out your genuine adoration towards her as there’s no point of turning back or denying—you just need confirmation from yourself even though it’s not needed, the beat of heart says so and she can feel it.
“You may not know this, Karina but—” Your hands then caressed her slender waist throughout the expensive clothing as your eyes captivate her, “—I've fallen in love with you ever since we’ve met yet I’m just scared to tell it all to you…”
You let yourself be free from the shackles that confined your true feelings for her as this opportunity should be seized up to its finest. You’ve never felt such a great sigh of relief until she directed what you’re really feeling and now with yourself being free and eased up, you couldn’t contain your need for her as you’re the one who initiated another kiss this time as the sloppy sounds of it became evident on how much you needed each other. Such clashing of soft fleshes never felt so good, and it’s better when Karina’s tongue starts dancing all over yours, intertwined as both muscles fight for dominance and utter adoration. With the messy, sloppy kisses that’s been going on for minutes, the both you further indulged into it as you didn’t mind the messy saliva that was all over your mouth since you’ve started.
“God—y-you’re such a great kisser…”
“You too, Karina—I never knew I needed this.”
Karina sighs as she felt flustered from your actions, and enlightened you with her own feelings too. “I never knew I’ll feel the same as you did to me, honestly…” 
You felt a surge of serotonin when Karina grabbed your hand and directed it onto her chest—even though it's a little uncomfortable due to the feeling of accidentally touching her busts, you’d trust her because you trust her—and then, you can feel the subsequent fast beating of her heart.
That alone makes you feel flustered knowing that the feelings are mutual between each other and you’d like to take a step further yet you need great pace with that, of course.
“Can you feel it? It’s just the same as what you’re feeling too…”
Exchanging smiles because of the comfortable feeling she has shown you, you initiated another torrid kiss yet this time, you didn’t fully invest your attention towards kissing her intimately but rather, fondled her massive mounds that you’ve always wanted to touch yet something provoked her which scared you.
“Hey! Oohh~”
“Oh shit—I’m sorry, Karina—”
“No!” Karina then grabbed your hand as she directed it onto her mounds for another time, making you involuntarily squeeze them gently and fondle them with care and in response, she moaned beautifully as its almost inaudible yet it blessed your ears and it’s such a brilliant cacophony to hear. “I want more of this~”
Given the green light, you gently kiss her neck and collarbones while fondling her tits with care and inevitably, she lets out such angelic moans that you can listen to all damn day if it means to make you feel good on your end too. Your hands can’t latch onto anything but her pillowy mounds that are magnetized within your touch as you can’t be bothered to stop due to how stress-relieving and soft those are—you’ll definitely treasure this one as Karina herself is more than a golden treasure you’re glad you can possess.
It didn’t take long before she let you take off her dress within a single motion, removing the strap off just to unveil her taut nipples all on display and you could feel your hunger coursing down your veins once you saw those buds being stiff. Of course, wanting Karina to be comfortable, you need her permission first before doing anything that can let anybody know how insatiable she is for you.
“May I?” You asked while kneeling down in level with her chest and with that actions if yours, she’s getting the grip of what you want to accomplish for both of your gratifications.
“Go ahead, baby—oh fuck! There~ ohh—shit,so good!”
Subsequent moans escape her lips as you gently nibble the bud with your teeth and then latch your tongue on it to stimulate the taut nipple, offering the best quality of pleasure possible for her. While you’re fully invested on feasting onto the succulent taste of her mounds, Karina takes some energy to let you know about her wants as you stopped and take some time to eavesdrop on her proposition.
“C-can we take this on my b-bedroom—there’s more room there for us to do this, or maybe even m-more—ahh~”
Within a speed of light, you instantly agreed onto it as she faintly smiled yet full of glee with the wants being mutual. “Of course, Karina—we should’ve thought about this sooner, honestly.”
“You’re right—but let’s g-go now. I can’t wait to see what you can do for, and to me…”
It’s only a matter of time before you settle yourselves onto the climax of the show where everything will be unveiled, within your very eyes…
---
“Oh gosh—k-keep doing that, baby…”
Constant fondling ensues as the sultry sounds escaping her lips fuels you to further keep up the pace and the momentum going. It was pleasurable for the both of you, as her constant, subtle writhing was enough of an evidence everytime you lay your fingers or your lips onto her sensitive body as you worship it, from head to toe, probably. 
Even with all of these things on the way, you can’t help but think of one thing that’s been clouding your mind ever since and with that thought, it would be perfect but you need to enlighten Karina first with your proposition as it’s willing to find the best gratification between both parties.
Now laying onto the bed, you look deeply at Karina’s glowing orbs as you mutter, “I think there’s one way to make these things better, for you and me…”
Karina’s eyes lit in excitement on what you may have in store, and also, anticipation fully rules over her and so is curiosity, making up for all the elements of being a cute, curious cat that she most likely possesses.
“Hm, you’ll see, Karina—but for now—” You let herself rest on the bed as you rose up and got something onto her drawer. Karina trusts you truly as she let herself fully anticipate your possible reward and as you face her again, she notices a black strip of cloth being brought over by you as she’s perplexed with that, thinking what you may do to her.
“Why do you have that? What are you going to do with it?”
You smirk with your devilish thoughts in mind, opting to let her anticipate for the fullest yet you’ll let her know what you had in mind that probably corrupted you for so long. “You know, Rina, I’ve thought of really doing this with you but only if you want to…”
“What is it?”
You leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Maybe a blindfold will make things better, isn’t it?”
Of course, Karina’s eyes glisten with everything that’s lustful and utter anticipation as you almost feel like you’re going to submerge into kissing her but you refrain from that, sticking onto the plan that you have in store for her. Karina then rose up from her previously laid position as every movement she does with her naked body in display is just hypnotizing yet you didn’t bother yourself drooling and wrapped her head with the dark cloth that’s on your hands, forming up a blindfold that will make anything more pleasurable as her senses will took over her, letting her savor every moment possible.
“Too tight?”
“No, it’s perfectly fine…” You can see Karina’s head wandering around as her lack of vision lets her fight-and-flight response to activate but with her utmost trust bestowed towards you, she feels comfortable as she succumbs to your care and you’ll absolutely treat her with what your heart can do, at its best.
“You sure you can’t see anything, Karina?” Of course, you need to double-check and further confirm if she can’t see anything before you start the multiple things you’ll do with her as Karina nods eagerly, persuading you that all she can see are dark hues and nothing else.
“What number is this?” Still hesitant, you draw your fingers into the air and form a number ‘three’ with it to make sure Karina can’t see anything. Growing impatient, Karina whines adorably as she’s still convincing you that she can’t see anything but in reality, you’re just annoying her just to see how adorable she is and how that cuteness of hers will soon fade when you sullied her—
“Come on, can you just—ooh—oh! That’s g-good~” Karina, still on the trance of being feisty, moaned immediately once you’ve pinch her taut buds with your fingers as you slowly relaxed her slender figure onto the bed, letting her imagination be her limit as she uses her senses to attend her needs and feel such gratification. You continue fondling her mounds until your other hands roam onto her toned midriff, her smooth, creamy thighs that you definitely nuzzle on for hours and the main event, her succulent, wet pussy that’s ready to take you, more than anything.
“You like that, Karina—the way my fingers just tease you? Oh, you could just feel it and if you can see right now, you’d probably know how wet you are, dripping onto the sheets…” With her heightened senses, she muffled her moans in order to feel and hear every action you do onto her body yet she can’t, and rather find each moan increasing in volume as she voices out her delight. You could hear her pleas as she seems needy and helpless with her state, and you, yourself, can’t even bear to see her whining uncontrollably without her needs being attended to yet you need more foreplay to fire the lust that’s been igniting inside her.
“Just a bit more, Karina—just wanna let you feel how good this is…”
“I k-know but p-please, baby—I can’t t-take it anymore!”
You can’t just let her plead for eternity, and even with your own needy self being encouraged to dive into it deeper, you listen to the voices inside your head and let your hips do the work—the mere containment of each others’ needs shouldn’t be retained further, and let everything be unveiled.
With only her sense aiding up to make herself be in the momentum of peak pleasure, she could only know you’re planning something ahead of this as she yelped once she felt your tip brushing against her wet folds and immediately, her thighs quiver and she squirmed in need in response of your teasing actions. With the deprivation of her senses, especially on her vision, she could only moan (almost screams) in need once you’ve plunged your length inside her and even with only your tip being hugged by her velvety walls, you could definitely feel her tightness as it’s gripping like its last and that’s one hell to define utter gratification.
“Fuck—you’re s-so tight, Karina—shit, so fucking tight!”
“Oh god—y-you’re so big—so good, oh god! I n-never felt this good!!”
You then start to pump onto her gripping walls with a moderate pace, aiming for her to really feel the pleasure and they way how your cock moves inside her wet cunt. Not being able to see opens a lot of opportunities especially when imagining something, and that’s probably what Karina’s doing as she treasures every thrust you do, your movements only aiming to further increase her needs for you and her libido. You start off slow, and gradually, build up the pace for some time yet you want to extend that so that Karina will most likely savor every hammer you do onto her wet, squelching cunt as her moans are strong evidence that she’s loving every second of this.
With only your tip inside when you withdraw, and then slamming back in, balls-deep is such an incredible factor that Karina finds, especially when she can’t see anything and would just feel everything you do. You’re hammering onto her wet cunt hard as you savor the grip her pussy does around to your raging length and to further stimulate her, you won’t just grip her hips and fuck her with a constant, relentless pace but rather, let her feel more than just one epicenter of attraction. With deep hunger and insatiability over her, your lips latch onto her sharp collarbones and her neck, making her feel your affection alongside your constant pumps into her pussy. The stimulation she’s experiencing right now is more than phenomenal as everything you do highlights every single detail on the utter gratification she’s feeling and that alone is such a great feeling for her to feel. It didn’t take long before you fondle her mounds again for the umpteenth time to further pleasure her as both your moans resonates around the puny room that’s soon will unable to cover them all, releasing symphonies of lust in which, will be the last thing you want to encounter.
“Does it feel better, Karina?”
It took her seconds before she could come up to articulate what you’ve just said, the peak pleasure she’s feeling frying her brain and making her incapable of thinking straight. “Y-Yes, it does—oh god, w-we should’ve done t-this sooner—ahh~”
You suckle onto the porcelain skin of her neck, tasting the musky flavor of her skin as sweat dribbled over it, the heat of the moment finally being permeated onto minuscule droplets. Your harsh suckling tends to almost mark her, which she can feel as her hands roam all over your torso, specifically on your chest as she mutters, “D-Don’t mark me p-please…”
“Yeah, yeah, I won’t mark you, Karina, don’t worry…”
Now, with a profound fervor and intense rush of need towards her, your hips are now starting to quickly build up a breakneck pace, maybe, capable of breaking her in half as you go ruthless, letting your animalistic urges take over you. Your constant rhythm sends both of your brains into an overdrive that no one can fix but yourselves and you may not even bother too, wanting yourselves to dive in between your devilish needs and the utter wanton needs that you’ve been longing for and been deprived of for a long time.
Having enough of showering her with kisses and the fondling of her tits that further submits her into utter submission, you then held her frame with both of your hands on her hips as you ensued a more ruthless pace, further hammering her wet cunt with no point of mercy and even returning back as her moans are now being converted to needy whimpers and cries which further fuels you to increase your quality of thrusts. Her senses being deprived is maybe a blessing in disguise, because on what you can conclude, she’s becoming more wetter and letting her imagine what could be happening—even down to the last, minute details—is just throwing gasoline onto the flames of lust and your needs.
Now, with a newly-crafted pace, another rhapsody has been orchestrated as it hits a series of wonders throughout your brain and Karina’s, as the pleasure was being the tool of forming melodies to voice out your satisfactions. She then wrapped her legs around your waist as you continue hammering her wet folds like there’s no tomorrow, her moans encouraging you for more and for the best of everything even though it isn’t needed—if you could only see the glint of lust within her eyes, and how it glows is her own, wanton needs, then you’ve probably broke loose and speaking of that, it’s coming not for long and it’s just going to be better. 
With the constant barrage of uncontrollable thrusts resonating such cacophonous sounds of bodies clashing together and such angelic moans, it wasn’t long before Karina deemed herself to reach closer to her eternal bliss, chasing her orgasm with her hips gyrating onto your constantly ramming length and then—
“I’m super c-close—gahh, ooh~”
The world lit up white as she succumbs onto that bliss, despite the darkness that envelops her vision as she unshackles the beast inside her, creaming all over your length as it stains everywhere on its vicinity of your nether regions: your length, your balls, the bed sheets, and some even shooting onto the floor but those were only minimal amounts.
With the arousing sight of Karina cumming hard as she can’t manage to really control how hard her orgasm hit her, it wasn’t long before you could also feel yourself drawing close to the ring of fire. With more ruthless thrusts in order to chase yours, it’s all bound to break as you immediately find your lips latching onto hers, sharing a torrid kiss in which she eagerly reciprocated and then, everything came loose.
You bury your entire length, filling her up to the hilt as you deepen the kiss, letting her know how you’re in your approaching orgasm as you fill her up with multiple streaks of thick, warm semen that’s bound to set both yourselves onto the state of paramount bliss, in which, it does. You pull out of the torrid kiss as the muffled moans from earlier are being vocally being heard, finally voicing out how great the both of you are feeling throughout your orgasm and her walls being painted white.
Now, with your impending orgasm, you slowly limp beside her as you recover from your high as does Karina, breathing heavily, chest heaving for air. You then turn onto her and remove her blindfold in one, swift motions and god, she looks ethereal, like a beautiful butterfly emerging from its cocoon as her beauty never fails to amaze you, let alone adore her in levels you can’t comprehend. She smiled widely as her endearing eyes greets you, feeling satisfied that you’ve dumped a nice volume of load inside her cunt that she’s been longing for so long now.
“Oh, that was w-way better than I expected…”
The both of you exchange smiles as delight can be felt coursing down your veins, and you immediately voiced out how great the experience was. “See? I know you’ll love these kinds of things—I told you…”
The two of you shared another intimate kiss, but this time, it’s fully passionate as the ardor between both parties ignite and not so long after, she pulled out of your lips’ embrace as you hugged her tightly, feeling the warmth of her body complimenting yours as the intense surge of adrenaline of pure passion is just clouding both your minds, unable to find out of such a wholesome cuddling session.
“Thanks for c-cumming inside me—I really wanted that for so long.”
You scoff, feeling a little shy yet in all arms in terms of giving her what she wanted. “No problem, Karina—you felt great too… Hah…”
With silence permeating the air on the once lust-filled room, the both of you stared at each other endearingly before Karina thought that something’s not right and suddenly, a spark ignites inside her—
“Oh gosh—the chicken! We totally forgot about it!!”
And well, gladly your hunger met a hindrance, and guess what? It was all for the better as you get to bless yourself with the treatment of Karina’s insatiability and that alone, is a five-star meal you’re willing to savor and cherish for the time being.
Perhaps, maybe treat you to another, if given the right time…
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luveline · 5 months
Note
I am begging for tasm!peter with his clumsy girlfriend please
“What's that?” 
You jump in surprise, the water in your cup lapping like an angry wave over the rim. Peter laughs, sounding vaguely sorry as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, locking you and your wet hands in tight. Water drips on your socks. 
“It's not even the worst thing that's happened to me today,” you say, sighing. 
“I believe you.” 
Peter turns your face to his for a kiss. His fingertips on your jaw, he feels along the line of a new scratch, and asks into your lips, “How'd you get this?” 
“Folded a jacket too eagerly. The zipper…” You know he's going to kiss you, though how you can tell is explained by a deeper level of intimacy. Maybe the way he breathes, or the slight movement of his fingertips. Whatever it is to clue you in, you close your eyes and kiss him softly. 
“Sorry,” he says when he's left you suitably starstruck, “I'm kissing you and you're standing there in a puddle. Not cool.” 
“I'm not very cool,” you say. You put your glass down and Peter lets you go, leaning down to wipe the puddle up as you take off your wet socks. You almost trip as you pull off the second and Peter puts his hand out to steady you without looking. “Thanks, Pete.” 
“You're welcome.” 
He bins the paper towel while you trek to the bedroom for new socks. You keep a bursting storage box of his and yours mixed under the bed, but when you pull it out the lid isn't on and all the socks at the top roll onto the bedroom floor. You can hear Peter giggling in the kitchen at your misfortune, because he can hear the plopping sound of the socks as they fall. Even if he's rooms away, he can pretty much always hear your accidents. 
“Mean,” you whisper, knowing he can hear that too. 
You shove all the socks back inside, realise you forgot to leave a pair out, and pull three pairs in an attempt to get just the ones. Peter does his boyfriend duty that time and pretends he doesn't hear it, though maybe he's not listening. 
You're sitting on the end of the bed with your new socks finally equipped when he finds you. “Oh, there you are,” he says, like it wasn't obvious, “good. I got some antiseptic for you.” 
The scratch is too small to need antiseptic, in your opinion, but you let him because it'll be nice to be cared for. Peter sits next to you and turns your face to his, smiling when your eyes catch, and frowning as the antiseptic lid pops off to reveal a foil seal.
“I hate these,” he says, needling at the side. 
You take it from him and use your thumb nail to slice it open. The pressure in the tube must've been high, because a moment later pale ointment is bursting out of the spout and painting a curled line on your sweatpants. 
You sigh in defeat. Peter starts laughing, big, shaking, awful pangs of laughter that rock the bed, his face dipping down to your shoulder as the strength leaves him. He finds your hands and squeezes your wrists, giggling and rubbing his thumb into your pulse. “Sorry,” he says weakly, “sweetheart, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I don't know why you have such bad luck, it must be hell.” 
He sounds happy, and it's no big deal. None of this stuff is. You press your lips together to smother a smile as he raises his head. “It's not that bad,” you say, thinking of his nice laugh, the echoes of joy etched into his eyes and their smile lines. “I'll live.” 
His laugh turns slow with affection. “You'll be fine,” he agrees, kissing the corner of your mouth sweetly. 
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fuckmymunson · 1 year
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eddie who has a reputation to uphold, the weird and scary freak who wears chains and big metal rings and always goes on tangents about his hatred for the popular kids, not a sliver of fear or weakness in his eyes. eddie who at the same time never leaves his house without the light yellow scrunchy with daisies on it that you gave him, always on his wrist or wrapped in his hair.
eddie who’s sweet n soft on you in a way he never is with anyone else 🥹
💌 a/n: Oh god, this, this, this, this. Please, I don’t ask for much. I’m so happy to get back to writing! Hope you like it!
🪷 Check my recent poll ¡! 📌
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“I lost it” His voice sounded almost defeated, and quite inopportune.
“Eddie!” You jolted in your place, closing the light green locker door. Behind it, there he was, the big, scary, mean freak of Hawkins High. Covered from head to toe in chains, leather, ripped jeans, black, black, all black. With dark, unruly hair and a chunky rings.
But also, with puppy eyes, and a quivering lip.
“You scared the shit out of me, Eds” The frown on your pretty face made his heart jump inside his chest. You were an angel, a sight for sore eyes.
“I lost it” He repeated.
“You lost what?”
“I’m sorry” Eddie looked down, apparently now his Reeboks were the most interesting thing.
“Care to explain what is missing and why are you apologizing?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you waited, for almost three minutes.
“I lost the scrunchy you gave me” He finally admitted, like a criminal at trial.
Eddie heard you sigh, to his ears, was a sigh of disappointment. In reality, it was a sigh of relief. Only Edward Munson knew how to make a simple thing as a scrunchy into a faithful message.
“That’s it? Eddie, it’s just a hair tie” You shook your head, still not comprehending the dimensions of his problem.
“It’s not just a hair tie!” He exclaimed, now almost offended, of course only he could switch mood that easily. A few curious students looked at your way, still wondering how did an adorable piece of cotton and sunshine like you, was dating the metalhead, three-times senior freak of not only high school, but of the whole town.
“Yes it is, love. I can just give you another one, don’t worry— Look, I can give you the one I’m wearing…”
“I don’t want that one” He said, his words sounding almost like a tantrum. “I want the one you gave me on our first date, the yellow one with little sunflowers”
“Daisies, Eddie” You corrected him with a smile. Only Eddie was able to remember such a tiny detail and forget a crucial detail.
Only Eddie was able to make you feel loved, cherished and appreciated. He was so different from every other person you have dated before. He snatched your heart from the very first day and it’s been a daily occurrence for almost a year. The scary, weird freak, the person considered a devil worshipper, the mean senior who had the admirable (or idiotic) courage to stand out against others who felt like they had the right to humiliate and ridicule those who weren’t like them. Your Eddie, the one who broke a jock’s nose one time for slapping your ass walking through the halls. Your Eddie, who waited patiently until every extracurricular activities you were into were over, so he could drive you home and hold your thigh and listen to you throughout the whole ride. Your Eddie, who loved Saturday night because it meant movie night, cuddles and kisses. The mean freak who let you braid his hair, paint his nails, sew his old t-shirts.
The Eddie Munson who was scared of spiders but wasn’t scared of a hundred people crowd. The boy who initiated a food fight at the cafeteria and had to go to the nurses office because an orange hit his eye and he realized he was allergic to them. The man who every Friday made fairy tales, knight stories and evil monsters come true and walk this very earth with just his voice and his imagination at his D&D club. Your Eddie, who on your first date, dropped a chocolate milkshake on top of your white dress, forgot to fill his fuel tank, and had to push his van all the way to the nearest gas station.
That’s how the bright scrunchy ended up in his hair, in a makeshift ponytail that you made by running your delicate fingers through his tangled hair.
That was your Eddie.
Your Eddie. Yours. Yours.
“Fine, let’s go find it” You said, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “Tell me what you did today…”
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Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. Thank you for reading!˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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katnisspeetaprim · 2 months
Text
Painting Lucifer's Nails
Lucifer Morningstar/Reader
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Based on the above request! Requests are also open for Hazbin Hotel! Feel free to send some over!
Warning: None, just fluff and some kissing
Word Count: 508 Hazbin M.list
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‘Ugh, Lucifer can’t you stop fidgeting for two seconds? I’m going to mess up.’ Your grip on his wrist tightened, effectively pinning his hand to the table.
‘But this takes so long though!’ He groaned out dramatically, throwing his free hand up in the air.
‘Oh hush!’ You yanked on his arm again, making him stumble in his seat ‘You’re the one who wanted them painted! Plus I’m almost done.’
‘Fine.’ Lucifer mumbled under his breath, leaning his chin against his free hand in defeat.
‘You should try another colour sometime, you know, something other than black.’ You smirked at him as he admired your work.
‘Ah and what would you suggest? Lime green? Hot pink? Rubber duck yellow maybe?’ He leaned across the table, giving you a sly grin. You returned his gaze and also leaned across the table so your faces were inches apart.
‘Well with a face as handsome as yours, you could pull anything off.’ You took your pointer finger and playfully stroked under his chin.
The two of you held each others gaze for a moment, before you both just burst out laughing.
‘Ok, enough with the corn.’ Lucifer wiped a tear of laughter from under his eye.
‘What? Can I not compliment my handsome, not to mention super sexy boyfriend?’ You fluttered your eyelashes as you teased your short king.
Lucifer suddenly appeared beside you, and pulled you to lean against him by your waist.
‘Ok. Maybe I like the compliments... Just a little.’ He smiled down at you, before leaning in an placing a soft kiss against your lips.
You relaxed into the kiss, before shooting your eyes open and abruptly pulling away.
‘You better not have smudged your nail polish!’ You grabbed his hand again and narrowed our eyes to inspect the paint.
Lucifer snorted with laughter once again.
‘Doll I’m the king of Hell! If I can’t get quick drying nail polish, then what god am I? He shrugged with a smirk again. You rolled your eyes. Of course he was smug over nail polish.
Noticing he was distracted, you took the opportunity to jab your fingers into his side.
‘Ah!’ Lucifer yelped out, doubling over from the ticklish sensation.
You doubled over in laughter, almost falling out of your seat.
‘Oh, you think that’s funny do ya?’ He grinned mischievously, before suddenly lunging towards you.
‘Ahh!’ You squealed, but managed to dodge out the way and run from the room, giggling as you went.
‘You think you can escape from me!?’ Lucifer gave chase, hot on your heels.
Charlie was happily minding her own business walking down the hotel hallway, when two figures sped past her on either side, making her scream and jump a mile.
‘Hi Charlie! Bye Charlie!’ Lucifer yelled over his shoulder, not stopping for a second to even look back.
It took a second for Charlie to compose herself, but when she did, se had a content smile on her face as she watched you and her dad.
‘I’m really happy for you, dad.’
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florencemtrash · 2 months
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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twelve
Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader
Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.
Warnings: None! Familiar faces return to Velaris and Y/n finally gets a chance to explore the city...
The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist
Masterlist of Masterlists
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I’ve been dreaming again. Dreaming of him. 
Thanatos. With his milky pale skin the color of bleached bones. Bold brush strokes of black ink mark his clothes and paint his hair and his marble eyes. I should feel unsettled when looking into the face of death. But I don’t. I’m the only one who gets to see him like this. The only one who gets to see his true face and I don’t know why. He doesn’t understand it either, and it frustrates him to no end. 
He’s almost as curious as I am. Almost. 
He came to the cabin again today, carrying that black lit candle between his spindly fingers like he believed in the Mother and was prepared to pray and sing to her like the rest of us. He says he likes to hear me during the service, tiny and informal as it is, but really I think he’s here because it irks me, and because I’m some tapestry he can’t seem to unravel.
He asked me again whether I’d call upon the Mother for him. He says he has a question that needs answering, and once he has his answer, he’ll be able to tell me how we can defeat Koschei. If it’s even possible. 
But I don’t believe that male for a second. He’d sooner carve the world to bits and devour the scraps before helping us like the coyote he is.
Rest assured I will never agree to his bargain. It will take more than that to turn Bethsevah Mordeigh.  
Although he said something strange that night, when the candles had dripped and left their waxy marks on the altar. 
“You were made to ruin me, Beth,” he said, “And I will let you do it a thousand—a million—times over.” 
He spoke in a dozen different voices, but I can’t deny I liked how the sounds came together and became his own. 
You jerked awake with your hand still cradling the book against your chest. 
Bethsevah Mordeigh. 
You had a name. 
You had a name! 
You burst out of your room. 
“Az! Az! I’ve got something.” You beat your fist against his bedroom door. “Az!” There was silence. 
The kitchen was empty, dirty dishes scrubbing themselves clean in the sink. A glance at the clock above the oven told you you’d slept in a great deal.
You took the steps two at a time, sprinting down the hallway towards the west wing. The training arena took up most of the second floor stocked with enough weapons to outfit a small army. Wood and stone knobs stuck out from the wall at extreme angles as part of the climbing gym. The ceiling dipped up and down like draped fabric. On any other day you would have seen Valkyries with rippling arms and backs making their way up to the green flag pinned directly above the room’s center point, bodies straining against the pull of gravity. But not today. 
Two of the three mats spaced across the room were occupied and you heard the beat of Illyrian wings before you even opened the double doors. 
Feyre and Nesta stood against the side wall bracketed by racks of steel swords, glistening throwing knives, and an Illyrian bow as long as you were tall. 
Feyre licked her lips, greedily tracing Rhysand’s powerful form as he went toe to toe with Azriel. You couldn’t help but stare as well as they leapt around the ring in a blur of wings and shadow. You’d never seen Azriel shirtless but… well… it was a sight you could get used to. 
It was a dance — a dangerous, deadly dance — and although the language of violence wasn’t one you were familiar with, you could read the display well enough to know that Azriel would win this round. 
Sweat glistened on his skin, slipping down the curves of his back where leathery black wings fused with his shoulder blades. Tattoos wrapped around his shoulders and across his chest, pulsing with a life of their own as Azriel cleanly side stepped one of Rhysand’s kicks. There was the faintest crease in the High Lord’s brow to let you know he was getting tired. 
But Azriel was just getting started. And now that he knew you were watching? He wanted to make it worth your while.  
Rhys gritted his teeth, launching out with a strike quicker than lightning. Someway, somehow, Azriel was faster. He dipped to the side, Rhys’s knuckle just kissing his cheekbones and came up for a counterstrike, slamming his fist so hard into his brother’s cheek that he staggered back. 
That was unnecessary. Rhys snapped his jaw back into place.
Azriel grinned. Fatherhood suits you. But I can’t let you get soft.
There was a roll of violet eyes. Sure. That’s why you’re trying so hard right now.
Rhys snatched Azriel’s leg out of the air, rolling onto the ground in a move that sent the Shadowsinger twisting in a graceful arch that had your breath catching in your throat. He broke free of Rhysand’s hold, leaping onto his feet like gravity didn’t apply. 
You met his eyes, heady and dark, and could have sworn he winked. But it may have just been a trick of the light. 
You ducked your head, hurrying across the room towards Feyre and Nesta and hoping they wouldn’t comment on the flush creeping up your neck.
“Fey—” you began urgently.
The High Lady held up a hand and you fell silent. There was a sheen to her eyes that let you know she was honing in on Rhysand’s moves with more than just her eyes. 
Nesta smirked at you as you blushed. You struggled to keep your gaze from drifting back to the powerful display, even as you caught glimpses of Azriel’s tan body out of the corner of your eye. Rippling, bold, strong. 
“Don’t worry about staring,” Nesta said with a wicked glimmer. “The boys admire us. We admire them. It’s an even exchange.” 
One mat over Cassian was sparing with a new female you’d never seen before. Illyrian, but there was something wrong with her wings. They were held strong and proud above the ground, but they dragged in places where Cassian had control over every minor movement. If you concentrated closely enough, you could make out the thin, shiny scars that had snipped the tendon closest to the apex of her wings, just by the arch of her claws. 
Your stomach dropped with horror.
Her wings had been clipped. 
She held her own against the Lord of Bloodshed. Cassian might have had the advantage of experience and his longer limbs, but she moved with a daring determination. She dodged every blow by the narrowest margin, conserving her energy so when she was able to slip close and find her opening, she slammed her elbow up and into his nose with a sickening crack that echoed throughout the room. 
You winced, hands flying up to your face at the same time that Cassian’s did. 
“FUCK!” He roared. 
“Whooo! THAT’S MY WIFE!” A gorgeous, curvy blond hung off one of the ring posts, legs propped up on the tensioned ropes. 
There was only one member of their family that had ever been described as sunlight incarnate. That had to be Mor. Which meant the striking female currently giving Cassian hell on the mat was Emerie.
Emerie blushed, stealing a heavy look for long enough for Cassian to snap his nose back into place. He ducked down and swept her legs out from beneath her, wrestling her to the ground in a tangle of leather and wings. But Nesta didn’t let him have the advantage for too long. 
Cassian choked on the teasing words he’d prepared for Emerie when Nesta sent him a particularly candid image of herself in a strip of black fabric. 
For later tonight. She whispered down the bond.
Damn it Nes.
Emerie smashed her forehead into his already swollen nose, then her knee surged up with enough strength to crack ribs. She braced her foot against his chest and flipped him over her head and onto his back, wrapping her powerful legs around his neck and pinning him to the ground with his arm forced back in his socket. Finally he tapped out. 
“Poor Illyrian baby,” Nesta crooned as Emerie pulled Cassian to his feet. Despite the blood that dripped from his nose, he was glowing with pride at Emerie. “Better luck next time.”
Mor grasped Emerie by the front of her training gear and yanked her close for a long kiss that left the Illyrian stumbling back with red lipstick smeared over her lips and a dark blush across her caramel cheeks. 
Nesta yelped when Cassian wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her off the ground with one arm like she weighed nothing.
“We could try that move tonight. Your legs, my face? But this time I won’t tap out.” Cassian winked and Nesta leveled a sultry glare in his direction, eyes lingering on the sheen of his muscular chest with unabashed heat. 
“Get a room,” Mor called out and Emerie threw a towel in his direction. It landed over his shoulder with comical perfection. 
“Says the pair that had to disappear to another continent after their wedding ceremony.” 
Mor flung an obscene gesture his way and Cassian returned it with equal fervor. “Says the pair that made Azriel run for the hills when he was left to chaperone.” 
“Hey! That’s on Rhysand. He never should have left us with a chaperone at all.” Nesta cut in. 
“You rang.” Rhysand appeared sweaty and spent behind Mor’s shoulder and slung his arm around her. The bruises on his cheeks were turning darker by the second.
Azriel hovered on the edges of the crowd, glancing at Mor and then at you. He was mildly disappointed that you’d been too busy watching Cass and Emerie to see him win at the end of the fight.  
“Gross, get off of me.” Mor shoved her cousin away. 
Rhysand’s shoulders shook with laughter. He smiled at you, eyes gleaming with happiness. It had been so long since he’d last seen his cousin. 
“Mor.” He gestured to you, “Meet Y/n—” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I think I just realized I don’t know your last name.” 
“Halwynn.” You offered up your mother’s last name. Even though you technically didn’t have any right to it as a bastard, it’s the name you’d gone by your whole life.
“Meet Y/n Halwynn,” Rhysand finished. 
“The resident intellect,” Mor said, caramel-brown eyes shining. “Well thank the Mother, you showed up when you did.” She looped her arm around yours easily and you caught a whiff of the perfume she’d dotted against her collarbones — amber and vanilla. A ruby the size of your thumb hung from a gold chain, following the dramatic dip in the front of her scarlet dress that left little to the imagination. You thought she might just be the most gorgeous female you’d ever seen. 
“We’d be absolutely lost without you. I hope the Library is up to your standards, although let’s be honest, it probably isn’t.”
You agreed a little too quickly. 
“Bethsevah Mordeigh.” Rhysand turned the name over in his mind, testing its familiarity and coming up empty. “Any takers?” 
You all stood around Rhysand’s desk, the book propped open beside bottles of jet-black ink, eagle-feather pens, and neat stacks of parchment paper.
Everyone shook their heads. 
“Fair enough.” He looked disappointed, but not surprised. “We’re only separated by a few thousand years, give or take.”
You paced in front of the windowsill, nervously picking at your fingernails until they were under threat of bleeding. Azriel noticed and one of his shadows gently wrapped around your wrists and pulled your hands apart. You looked at him gratefully and stuck your hands in your pockets.
“The oldest text I’ve seen dates back twelve-thousand years,” Feyre offered. “I’ve also asked Gwyn and Clotho to begin searching.”
“What about the Day Court?” Azriel looked at you.
“I can ask Helion to search the archives. But I’ll warn you, records dating back that far are few and far apart. And priestesses back then were less keen on recording the movements of their members. But we might get lucky with some of her descendants if they ever joined the order. Work our way backwards through history.”
Mor shot Rhysand a look. “Why ask me to come back here now? I could have been of better use searching for this information on the Continent.”
“Now is not the time for you to be traversing foreign lands. Not with Koschei at risk of being let loose.” 
You shook your head. “And it wouldn’t matter. Bethsevah wouldn’t have been born on the Continent. If she ever went, it would have only been to trap Koschei. Our best bet is to search for information about her down south.”
The others stared at you in confusion. You blinked as if the answer was obvious. “Organized religion surrounding the Mother emerged in Southern Prythian and her priestesses didn’t spread out to Hybern or the Continent until the Insynthian Age.”
“Your point being?” Nesta folded her arms over her chest. When it came to the specifics of Prythian history, she and Feyre were about as useful as a glass rod in a lightning storm. 
“The bit about the candles is a very, very old ceremony. People would write their prayers in blood and have a priestess burn them on a candle made with a strand of their hair woven into the wick. If Bethsevah was a priestess performing this ritual, she would have been an early member of the order. Before the Insynthian Age.” 
“That would narrow things down significantly.” Rhysand nodded in approval. “I’ll reach out to Lucien, see if he’ll be able to find anything out for us.”
You pulled a sheef of paper out from your pockets and Helion’s pen. You scribbled down a note to him about what you’d discovered and within five minutes the words were racing south to the Day Court. 
“How on earth do you know this?” Mor asked incredulously, looking at you with a mixture of awe and bewilderment.
“I’m a Librarian.” She looked unimpressed by that statement. “I had a religious phase.” You smoothed your thumb over your necklace, feeling for your mother’s seal — a flowering heather and fountain pen crossed over in an “x”. 
“A religious phase?”  
“Yes.” 
She clicked her tongue, red lips turning up in a smirk. “You Day Court fae are certainly something.” 
You blushed. “I’ll let you know if I learn anything else.” You went to grab the book, but Mor’s hand slapped down first, pinning it to the table and you with a stare. 
“Nope. Work is for tomorrow,” Mor declared, eyes glittering with fondness. “Today, I want to see my city with my family.” 
You tapped the book through your robes, counting the rhythmic swings against your hip like a metronome. One. Two. One. Two. One-
Cassian leaned down to whisper, “You’re doing great,” before waving to a male with ash-blonde hair standing beside an apple cart. 
Pink ladies, honeycrisps, and ambrosias were piled high into luscious clouds. Two gestures and a flick of a coin through the air later and Cassian was shoving a small, flimsy basket in your hand. Roasted apples covered in burnt sugar and drizzled with caramel seeped into the wax paper. 
One. Two. One. Two. 
It was still too early for most of the Night Court, but the hustle and bustle in the Palace of Bone and Salt was unperturbed. Now was the time for the owners of small shops to haggle for prices without interfering with common business. The apple cart you just left had a new customer already — a wispy female with candy-floss hair lugging a basket on wheels capable of carrying three bushels for the bakery two streets over.
“Would you like some?” You held the food up to Azriel, but he only stumbled over a crack cobblestone street before shaking his head no. 
He was being awfully quiet today. Quieter than usual. 
Maybe he’s sick? You thought to yourself. He hadn’t eaten lunch either, but maybe that was just because he disliked the sandwiches you’d made. Or maybe it was because of a certain blond-haired female who kept giving him side glances with questions eating at her from the inside out.
“Come on,” you encouraged, nudging his shoulder. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.” 
Azriel looked at the apple slice you held out for him like it was a personal torture.
Cassian grinned and slung his arm over your shoulders, peeling you away from Azriel’s side to his relief. The weight was a comfort coming from him and you felt that thrill in your stomach whenever any member of the Inner Circle touched you. 
“Azriel won’t starve. I promise, Y/n.” 
Nyx thought he might starve. He was a growing boy, and had a stomach to match. He tapped your elbow and you wordlessly passed over the basket to him, but not before snatching a piece for yourself. The sugar crackled, then melted over your tongue, the sharpness from the apple cutting through caramel in a burst of tartness. 
“How is Helion doing by the way?” Mor dropped the question casually. “Rhys says you know him well.” 
You blinked at her. What did she care about Helion? “I’ve worked on a few projects for him before this one. And he’s doing as well as he can be, I suppose. Things aren’t exactly perfect in the Day Court right now.”
“Ah, Helion,” Mor breathed out, almost wistfully, “He was one of the few good males I ever slept with.” 
You choked on your food, sputtering and coughing for long enough that Cassian started to slap your back. You felt your bones shake with each blow.
So… Mor had slept with your father… figures.
Feyre looked at you with concern. “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” you said meekly. You shoved more food in your mouth before anyone could ask any further questions.
Azriel felt that familiar pool of jealousy bubble in his stomach at the mention of Helion. You kept rubbing that necklace of yours, Helion’s seal displayed prominently like he’d personally stamped you as his. 
He allowed himself to get close enough to brush against your shoulder and a few of his shadows creeped onto your body, weaving themselves into your hair. You looked up at him and smiled. 
“You’re in a good mood today.” Azriel’s hazel eyes were brighter in the morning light, flecks of green poking through the amber. “You’re smiling.” 
And what didn’t you have to be smiling about? You were finally exploring Velaris. Mor, Cassian, and Nyx had touched you, albeit through the fabric of your robes, and you hadn’t been overwhelmed. And you’d finally been able to take knowledge from the book.
 It had been a pinch of information as potent as saltwater. You had gotten a name, and names held power. 
Azriel’s eyes glimmered with quiet delight. 
“I’m just happy,” you said. “I think things are getting better, with—” You glanced down at where your arms swung side by side and you reached out a finger, allowing it to gently brush against the scars at the top of his left hand. You curled your fingers around his for the briefest moment before letting go. “And… you know.” You shrugged. 
Azriel stopped walking abruptly and everyone turned to stare at him. The Shadowsinger was strung taughter than an Illyrian bow. 
Mor raised her brow in open appraisal. There was a flash of something like shock in her eyes and then she was buried in Emerie’s hair, whispering something into the female’s rounded ears that had her dark carved eyebrows flying up to her hairline.
“Az?” Rhys asked cheekily, “Everything alright?”
Cassian chuckled and even Nesta smirked.
Last year he was giving Elain and Gwyn the bedroom eyes, and now he short-circuits because Y/n brushes her hand against his? I don’t believe what I’m seeing, Cass.
Some females like their males a little pathetic and lovesick. 
You would know. 
Cassian chuckled, looping his arm around her waist and burying his lips in her hair. He twirled the face framing pieces between his fingers like he always did, and Nesta tried not to think about how she’d first started leaving them out after meeting the Lord of Bloodshed. It would seem she had once been a pathetic and lovesick fool herself.
I love it when you tease, Nes. 
Maybe she still was. Nesta couldn’t help but lean into his touch. 
They do make a good couple. She admitted and Cassian was in agreement.
Feyre was thinking the same thing as you twisted towards him, hand still outstretched like there was a string tying your fingers to his. You couldn’t help but want to drift towards him as surely as gravity makes rain fall to the earth. 
Does she know? Mor grasped Rhysand’s arm, eyes wide and staring. Does she know they’re mates? 
Not yet. 
Mor groaned. Are you fucking kidding me?
I wish I was.
Damn you, Azriel.
Azriel shook his head and forced his body to move forward. The world had stopped when you touched him, and it was only just starting to pick up again. 
“Sorry,” he murmured. 
Nyx munched on his apple slice, staring at you both curiously before following after his mother and father.
“Did you hear something?” You stayed by his side, no longer interested in the aromas fluttering in the air from the bakery, the soup shop with its stone vats bubbling in the back, the smokehouse with its slabs of bacon crackling on grease. “From your shadows?”
“No. Why did you think that?”
“You had a look in your eye, like you weren’t quite there for a second. My mother used to say that I looked like that sometimes when using my powers. Like for a moment I was untethered from the earth and at risk of floating away.” 
Azriel saved that piece of information, storing it away in his mind next to the knowledge that you had always wanted a dustbear for a pet because they were such simple, mindless creatures and you never felt overcome in their presence. 
“I do feel that way at times.” He waited until your little troupe passed by the spice shops. The particles in the air always made Cassian sneeze. “But not now.” 
Everyone dipped into a paisley blue building, the bell ringing with a soft clang to announce their presence. 
“Right now I feel… settled.” 
You grinned at him brighter than the sun, moon, and stars combined. “Good.” 
You followed after the others, and while your back was turned, Mor took her opportunity. She clawed the back of Azriel’s leathers, hauling him down the alleyway before anyone could notice. 
Azriel’s eyes blew open in surprise when Mor shoved him up against the wall hard enough for a rain of petals to fall over their heads from the second floor balcony. It would have been romantic if it weren’t for the incredulous look in Mor’s eyes and the fact that Azriel was still caught up in your smile and the feeling of your skin against his. Gods he wished you were the one pressing him against this wall. He couldn’t stop thinking about that hug in Rhysand’s office. He wanted to feel the softness of your body against him once more. 
“You idiot!” Mor slapped him across the face and it shocked him back to the present. “Why didn’t you tell me you found your mate?” She hissed. 
Azriel looked frantically back to the street, half expecting you to be standing there with your inquisitive eyes. It was still a jolt to his system whenever anyone used that word: mate. Equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. It was such a fragile word, and the others tossed it around so dangerously. 
“I didn’t—” Azriel stammered. Mor and Emerie’s arrival this morning had been unexpected for everyone except Rhysand and Feyre. “There wasn’t time.” “So?! You should’ve made time.” Mor stepped away, letting the Shadowsinger back down onto his feet. He had the good sense to look sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck while Mor tossed her waist length hair over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed pink, tanned and freckled from her time on the Continent. 
Azriel felt that familiar coil of guilt building in his stomach and he tried to remember the apology he’d been preparing for this exact moment when he and Mor would be alone. 
He cleared his throat and bowed his head to the ground in a picture of reverent apology. “Mor, about what I said—”
She crashed into him again, arms looping around his neck and squeezing him so tightly he felt his ribs crack. And she was… laughing?
“You have a mate!” She giggled through happy tears, bouncing on her feet. Her heels clicked against the granite tiles. “My best friend finally has a mate!”
She kept repeating it over and over again, like she couldn’t quite believe it herself. 
“Mor, please. Keep it down.” They were attracting attention and Azriel wordlessly summoned his shadows to hide them from view.
Mor finally let him go, covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m sorry I just—” She squealed. 
Azriel let out a long, heavy sigh. This was closer to the reaction he should have had when Mor and Emerie announced their engagement. Instead he’d gone cold and silent. 
He should have known Mor preferred females, and maybe he had known all along that Mor could never love him the way he’d once loved her. But he’d done what he always did when it came to love and ran forward with a blindfold on, hoping his aim was true but never bothering to check. 
Mor furrowed her brows. “Are you upset by this? Why do you look like that?”
“What?” Azriel hissed like the question physically hurt him. “No. No! I’m not upset, I’m—” He clenched his fists and said in a small voice, “I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” He took a deep breath and winced, “And I’m thinking that you must have felt similarly when you got together with Emerie, and that I royally fucked up by reacting the way that I did.” 
He could picture it clear as day — Mor’s radiant smile slipping off her face, left hand dropping behind her back to hide the glittering ruby, the tears that gathered in her eyes when all Azriel did was remain stiff as stone before dropping off the balcony at her engagement party. 
Mor hesitated then tucked her honey-gold waves behind her ears like she did whenever she was uncomfortable. “I should have told you sooner.” Azriel knew she was referring to more than just her relationship with Emerie. “I knew you loved me and I let you believe for so long that there might be a chance I could return those feelings. But I was scared because… because I wanted to know there would always be someone waiting for me if…” She pressed her hands over her stomach. The nails may have disappeared from her body without a trace, but they’d been hammered elsewhere in her soul and she hadn’t managed to take them out just yet. “It was wrong of me to use you like that. To keep you waiting for so long.”
Azriel rubbed her shoulders. “I think you gave me more than a few hints that it wouldn’t work out. Chief among them, Cassian.” Mor’s gaze dropped to her feet, but all Azriel did was press a gentle kiss to the crown of her forehead. “I still love you, Mor, and I always will. It’s just a different kind of love now. I’m happy for you and Emerie. Truly.” 
“Yeah?” She looked up hopefully. 
Azriel nodded. He pulled Mor close, wrapping his wings around her to block out the sounds of bartering happening in the square. They stayed like that for a long while, until the shadows on the wall had dropped another inch. 
Mor sniffled and pushed him away. “Ok, enough of this now.” She carefully brushed away at the corner of her eyes, “You’re ruining my makeup.” 
Azriel’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, and Mor noted how it seemed to come easier to him now.   
The whole day you’d felt that something was amiss, but it wasn’t until a flustered artisan carrying bolts of spider silk fabric crashed into you that you realized what it was.
You stumbled into Azriel’s sturdy arms, feeling the strength and power beneath his leathers as he propped you up against his side. 
“So sorry, miss. Please forgive me.” The artisan blubbered. His cat eyes glowed a pale orange as they flickered over you from head to toe, “Can’t see with this.” He lifted the bolt. There was something about his gaze that unsettled you, like he was searching for something. Like he was hungry. Or scared.
“It’s alright.” You adjusted your clothes, tucked the book behind your back so it was pressed up against Azriel’s hip. 
That look in his eyes disappeared and he huffed in relief before continuing down the cobblestone streets, too much in a hurry to notice the Shadowsinger glaring at him.
“Are you ok?” He let you find your footing, keeping his hand at the small of your back. 
You stared at the male’s retreating form. “He didn’t… he didn’t bow to you. To any of you.” You blinked at Feyre and Rhysand.
She wore no crown, no jewelry except the ring on her finger and the diamonds in her  ears, but the male must have known he was in the presence of his High Lady. And there was no mistaking Rhysand and his brothers.
“Like Azriel said when you first arrived here, we take the casual approach.” Feyre said, and as if to make the point, Nyx shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side in a manner so like Rhys that Azriel and Cassian burst out laughing. Rhys looked down fondly and brushed back his hair. 
Feyre drifted to your side, watching with amusement as Nyx disappeared into the forest of color that was the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Every inch of fabric was too precious to be wasted, and so the weavers collected the scraps and tied them together, end to end, until they became one long chain. They hung from the entrances of shops, from the arches criss-crossing overhead, and from hand-painted signs. They wrapped around doorways and caught on the shoulders of passerbys, whispering of the time and effort spent crafting them.
Nyx weaved in and out of these strands, chased by Cassian and Azriel as they pretended to be tricked by the little boy’s lithe footsteps. You gasped as he turned invisible, then reappeared four inches to his left, jabbing at Azriel’s side before disappearing again.
“He can wrap light around himself as much as he can weave darkness,” Feyre explained, staying close to your side, “I think he might have gotten some remnant of the Day Court’s power from me. It made him an absolute nightmare for about three years when he couldn’t control it. Can you imagine having a toddler waddling around and wreaking havoc that you can’t even see?”
Nesta let out a sharp breath of laughter. “I think that’s an experience unique to you, Fey.”
You had to agree. You’d never turned invisible as a child, although you had to admit it would have been a very useful power to inherit from your father.
“Gotcha! You little rascal!” Cassian said triumphantly. 
You heard Nyx shriek with laughter. Cassian and Azriel both had one arm raised above their heads and with a little shake the boy came back into view, dangling upside down from his ankles.  
“Don’t break the boy, Cass.” 
“I won’t break him, Rhys. Gotta let him grow old enough to beat all those bastards at Windhaven, don’t I?” 
Rhys and Feyre’s smiles slipped ever so slightly. 
Nyx was lowered to the ground. He kept his arms out and balanced on his hands for a brief moment before walking over onto his feet with a flourish. 
“Gwyn taught me that last week. She’s part river nymph. Very flexible.” He brushed invisible dirt from his shirt and continued on, leading the way towards the Sidra like he owned the place — which in some respects he did.
<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->
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Author's Note:
Just another little chapter with more slowburn antics between Y/n and Azriel! And! Mor and Emerie are here! I am slowly but surely collecting characters like pokemon cards because you know I want to have my favorites in Velaris when shit starts to go down...
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0deadly-nightshade0 · 3 months
Text
Broken Him
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summary - You change his mind
warning - mention of abuse! (not coryo)
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Coriolanus Snow would not marry for love, he wouldn’t allow himself to be so vulnerable, so weak.
Love makes people delusional and it once made him deluded.
Lucy gray
that name wrang in his head like an unstoppable fire alarm, his feelings angry, yet betrayed, sad? all he knew was that his firey feelings towards her made that fire alarm ring on and on.
So he married the person he cared the least for his.
His little wife.
His little wife that doted on him, that spent all her days, every minute, every second trying to please him.
He didn’t love her, he couldn’t,
Always stood at the door, waiting for him to come home, her pretty little pink 50s swing dress on, ballet flats adorned with bows, a row of pearls around her neck, resting gently over her collar bones.
She was happy.
She had to be.
There was no way, after marrying someone like him, much more attractive, higher rank, smarter.
A man who gave her anything her naïve little heart wanted.
A massive estate, bags, dresses and more.
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Coriolanus walked in, expecting to see his darling wife stood by the door.
Nobody.
I look of confusion crossing his face.
“Wife?”
He somewhat shouts.
He walks along to her bedroom, cracking the door open slowly.
There you were.
his brows furrowed as he watched you take a long drag of your cigarette.
Your mascara running down you cheeks.
like watercolour paint.
continuing to water down, and dry in streaks.
the ash on the end not flicked off.
a glass of red wine in your hand, much different from your usual light sweet alcoholic drink.
You looked a state.
“Something on your mind?” He asks walking in, sitting next to you on the window seat.
You seem startled, shocked at his presence.
“I’m fine” you respond flatly, the moonlight illuminating your sad face in a way that makes him feel something.
not good.
“I know when your lying” He smirks, his piercing blue eyes examining every part of you.
“I could say the same for you” You snap, though your voice isn’t loud, and it shows a hint of sadness in it.
Coriolanus looked surprised, his little wife being so? so rude to him.
His faced shifted to a serious one, his eyes narrowed a little.
“Watch your tongue, wife.”
He knew what this was about, his love for you.
he could feel you slipping away from him.
“We both knew what this was. I don’t need to love you for us to have a successful marriage”
you start to stare out the window.
“I don’t want a successful marriage, I want someone who loves me.”
He was like a deer in headlights.
and it all started to dawn on him.
his sadness earlier at you not being by the door.
seeing you sad.
he was falling for you.
and he couldn’t let himself.
“I-I can’t love you” It was more an admission of defeat than an answer to your want.
“I know you can’t, but it was cruel for you to choose me and leave me in the dark about that, you don’t know the life I’ve lived, and you don’t know how you’ve ended all my hopes”
‘Shit.’ you thought.
stupidly you had brought your past into this.
He almost looks confused.
“Why the hope of love? Don’t you understand it makes you weak? and vulnerable?”
You think for a moment, how to explain love to a person that wishes not to be loved.
“But you have been loved, had people around you love you, you’ve had many people love you, it doesn’t make you weak it makes you stronger, having constant people in your life who love you and are willing to do anything for you”
Coriolanus was trying to see what the disconnect between to the two of you was.
“That love is a weakness because love is also a vulnerability. The people who you love the most are also the ones who can hurt you the most. If I love someone fully with my whole heart they also have the potential to completely destory me”
Lucy gray. that name pinged in his head again.
“Tigris? would she do that? Grandma’am? would she do that? no. Whoever has hurt you before didn’t love you, atleast not strongly. that I can say with one hundred percent certainty.”
you look over at him, giving him a sad smile.
that you were correct about.
his walls felt like they were crumbiling down.
never had he viewed her with such a high opinion.
that was a fair assumption.
one he hadn’t made.
Coriolanus pauses, Tigris, his cousin, did love him. And he was never worried about her being someone who could hurt him, because she couldn’t.
It was one very rare time coriolanus had been beaten in a debate of words.
“How do I know you wouldn’t do the same?”
“Because I couldn’t, I’ve loved someone, and the way they treated me, made me vow to never hurt anyone that loves me.”
“to treat people the best I can”
She couldn’t?
“I would feel to guilty, but I can’t force you into loving me”
Coriolanus paused again. You sounded similar to himself but instead of vowing to treat people the best he could, he had instead vowed himself never to love.
You were alike in so many ways, yet complete opposites.
how was this innocent little woman doing this to him.
he felt vulnerable.
“Who hurt you?”
“My father, he was very physically abusive, and I albeit atupidly, still loved him, but I vowed never to hurt someone who loves me, to never break them like he broke me”
Coriolanus took in your words, he couldn’t Imagine what that was like, still putting other first after that.
so kind, so pretty, and slightly smart.
“Aren’t you afraid of love hurting you again?”
you had to think.
“Nobody will ever love me, I barely leave this estate, you don’t love me, and I have no friends”
He did that.
and he felt awful.
he wanted you to himself, even if he didn’t love you.
listening to her words.
Coriolanus looked at his wife for a moment, contemplating his choices.
His marriage felt superficial compared to everything else he had dealt with before.
He married her becuase she was easy, innocent, naïve.
he had broken her.
and she had broken him.
“Kiss me”
He blurts out.
“C-Coriolanus I can’t, I won’t push you to do that kind of stuff.”
You shake your head.
Coriolanus took notice of your refusal.
“I ordered you to kiss me, now kiss me”
he says.
you gingerly graze your hands against his cheeks, kissing him softly.
Coriolanus felt his entire body warm up, you were like the water that set out all his firey thoughts.
The entire world could burn to the ground around you both and he wouldn’t care.
Your lips, your hands, your face, your body, he flet like he was in heaven.
You had broken him, and he was glad.
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Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 🎀
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maxidentscene · 1 year
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anger management
��� genre. fluff, angst but not hella heavy idk i tried to make it pretty lighthearted
⚘ members. ot8
⚘ synopsis. post argument with bf!skz
chan checks on you even if you’re ignoring him
It had been a few days since the two of you went at it, you honestly couldn’t even remember what the argument was about. Everyone was just aware that the both of you were strictly not on talking terms, no questions asked
Truthfully, you missed him. Missed his dimples, missed his squeaky laugh, missed how his scent was so strong and comforting when you hugged him close. Fighting was so overrated but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to speak first
That’s why your heart leaped out of your throat the second you saw his name in your notifications. He had been the first to bite, swallowing his pride and asking if you needed any essentials while he was out shopping. You felt fragile, teary eyed as you typed the fastest you’ve ever typed in your entire life, letting him know that all you really needed was his presence
You stood in the doorway when he knocked, embracing each other and relaxing into each others arms. “We aren’t ever doing this again,” you sniffled against his shirt, that little giggle you’ve missed painting a smile onto your face. “Got it?”
“Yes!” He cried out with a laugh, jumping and flinching away from you as you pinched his side playfully. “I got it! Stop it!”
lee know takes you out as an apology
Here you were, laying face down on your bed, cheeks burning hot and shoved into your plushy pillows. Just minutes ago, you’d been scolding Minho quite angrily for a stupid reason, so worked up that you slammed the bedroom door in his face without second thought
Naturally, guilt had washed over your entire being almost immediately and you were currently planning out an apology in your head. Maybe a massage, maybe run him a relaxing bath and wash his hair for him, pay for the cat’s monthly supply of litter
Soft taps of knuckles against the door startled you. “Get dressed,” Minho’s voice chimed behind the wood, and you did as you were told, wiping your wet face and tugging a clean top over your head. It was the least you could do after your outburst
“Where are we going?” You asked gently as he took your hand in his, nose stuffed up and congested with all of the aggressive crying you did. He spared you a glance, sending a small smile your way before leading you to the uber he had called up
“Dinner,” he placed his hand on your head, soothingly patting you the same he would do to his cats. You melted in his touch, your mind and body both defeated. “I think I have a few things to fix between us.”
changbin can never stay mad at you
Teasing was an everyday thing with you and the boys, always constantly throwing friendly jabs at each other for being bad at a game or folding laundry a weird way. Today’s target was Changbin, and not knowing he was already in a bit of a sensitive mood, you had taken it too far on accident
He had left the room in a hurry, storming down the hallway and locking himself in his room as you sat on the couch, dumbfounded. “Look what you did,” Chan jokingly shook his head in disapproval before patting your back. “Luckily it would kill him to be mad at you. Go give him some love and say you’re sorry.”
Taking Chan’s advice, you hurried to Bin’s room and swallowed a lump in your throat as you knocked. “Answer me,” you whined from the other side, heart feeling a bit lighter as he opened the door with a small pout on his lips, the heated blush on his skin slowly calming down. “I’m sorry,” you coo and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest. “I didn’t mean it.”
You could faintly hear Chan’s laugh in the living room and it made you giggle too because he was totally right, Changbin quite literally became putty in your hands and enveloped you in a strong hug. “You aren’t funny,” he sighs into your shoulder. “Literally so not funny.”
“Yes, yes,” you sighed before giving his ass a light smack. “I know.”
hyunjin gets extra clingy once all is well
Clingy is an understatement. Hyunjin has not let you go ever since you entered the dorm, and that was an hour ago. He’s got his head in your lap, snuggled against your stomach and humming at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. “You’re done being mad at me, right?”
You furrow your brows and tug at his light strands just a bit, earning a soft smack on your arm. “You were mad at me too, don’t act like I was the bad guy here.”
He giggled at your stern voice before completely wrapping his arms around your torso, cheek squished against your arm as he stared up at you. His eyes were hard to read sometimes, so deep in thought you weren’t sure what he was feeling. They flickered with an emotion that you couldn’t pick apart and you sighed, hoping he wasn’t about to cry
“I really am sorry,” he murmurs, twisting his head a bit to kiss the skin of your arm closest to him. “I hate fighting. Didn’t mean to make you upset.”
Your sweet boy. His heart was too big for his body, you could feel the slight tremble of his body against yours and you could only give him a smile. “I know, Hyune,” you flicked his forehead before leaning down to plant a kiss on it. “You never mean to make me upset, I know that. I’m sorry, too.”
han isolates until you offer some sweets
“Where is he?” you sigh sadly, arms aching as the plastic bags you carried were starting to weigh them down. Hyunjin jumped up to take them from your arms, setting them on the counter and shooting you a sorry look. He must’ve heard the yelling last night, it would’ve been hard to miss, honestly
“He’s holed up in his room,” Hyunjin pointed a finger towards his room before rummaging through the bags. “Oh, you’ll win him back with all of this, that’s for sure,” He clapped excitedly before sneaking a bag of gummies and running off to his room. “Good luck!”
Picking up the bags again, you mentally prepared yourself. The fight was normal, couples argue from time to time of course, but seeing Jisung so defeated would break anyone’s heart. You used that as motivation to burst through the door, not surprised to find a curled up lump under the comforter
You leaped up and splayed yourself over his body, hugging him over the blankets and letting your presence be known before standing up to spill the snacks out of the grocery bags. A fluffy brown head of hair peeked out to witness the mess, eyes brightening up at the sight of all of the treats
“Forgive me?” You asked with your arms wide open, delighted to be scooped up just seconds later and tugged under his covers
felix is heartbroken and the members are begging for forgiveness
Days have passed since the two of you got into a disagreement, mutually deciding that time apart was best. Of course it wasn’t much of their business, but the boys at the dorm felt almost as if they were apart of the disagreement as well when they saw Felix. It was hard to watch, their usual bundle of joy and love slumping around in his pajama pants
Your phone rang as you were on your way to pick something up and you were shocked to see Seungmin calling you up. As soon as you accepted the call, pleas from all 3 of the cuties dorm residents were in your ear, whining and begging you to come back
“I’ve never seen him so upset,” Jeongin cried out jokingly, you could picture him clutching at his chest and falling to the floor. “It’s been days, don’t you miss us too? This family is falling apart! Get over here!”
These boys. You let out a drawn out sigh into the receiver before accepting their invite, turning on your heels and walking over to the dorm. You admittedly had missed Felix, the argument was petty and it felt like it was so long ago that it didn’t even matter anymore
Arms wrapped around you the second you step foot into the building, soft hands massaging the back of your neck and you melted instantly into the familiar touch. “You’re too sweet for your own good,” you laughed into his shoulder, watching the other three members giving you thumbs up in the kitchen
seungmin will not tolerate the silent treatment
To be clear, if it were a more serious situation, Seungmin’s approach would be a lot different than this but the topic at hand that made you annoyed was the fact that he accidentally lost you in the mall. It had been a busier day and he swore that you were just at his side as he was looking at shoes but suddenly, you were gone
He found you sitting on a bench outside of a store, pouting to yourself after you had tried to find him for several minutes. He hadn’t answered his phone so you just decided to let him find you himself
When he did, he laughed harder than he ever has before, eyes squeezed shut as he wrapped a lanky arm around your shoulder. “You gotta understand!” He held your face in his hands as you pretended to be mad, turning your face away. “I seriously thought you were right beside me!”
Fake glares were shot his way and you decided to just stay quiet, getting up and taking his hand to lead him to the food court. “This never works on me and you know that,” he whined before pulling out his wallet. “I’ll get you whatever you want, but you can’t stay silent on me.”
“Learn to answer your phone when it rings, Kim Seungmin,” you grumbled as you pulled him into the line of the ice cream place. “I want two scoops this time.”
jeongin doesn’t have the heart to shut you out completely
Honestly, it was your first argument as a couple and he really just did not know how to handle it. Usually he just needs to have time to himself to calm down, but he can’t sit here comfortably without you. God, when had he become so cringe?
Just looking around in his phone and room were constant reminders of you. You were everywhere, his space had became your space as well
There were the pictures, the old texts that you two sent when you were planning your most recent date, the videos that you had taken on his phone while he was getting hair and makeup done. He could see the sleeve of one of your favorite hoodies poking out of his closet and the gum wrapper you forgot to trash was sitting on his desk
Defeat. This was utter defeat. Jeongin picked up his phone, fingers quick to find your contact and ring you up, letting out a breath once you answered. “Come over,” he let out a small laugh, unsure if he’s doing this right. “I know I literally told you that I wanted space minutes ago but that was enough.”
You bit back a smile on the other side of the phone, heart pounding in your chest at how cute he was. It would really probably destroy Jeongin to be mad at you
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celaenaeiln · 6 months
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I literally can't take it anymore. I need to get this out of my system. This is a hate-rant about why almost every single thing Tom Taylor has written is wrong.
First and foremost is the bimbofication of Dick Grayson. Tom Taylor loves to write him like this idiot who doesn't think at all. Being cheerful does not mean being dumb.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #79
"You seem unusually contemplative"? All Dick does is contemplate!
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #3
His mind is always running!
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Nightwing (2011) Issue #13
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #38
I just picked a random issue from all of these comics and in every single one of these, Dick's planning, thinking, and strategising constantly.
Tom Taylor literally treats him like he's stupid or something.
Also the degradation of his abilities
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #79
A vigilante for 20 years. Who has faced assassins, hitmen, psychos, surprise attacks, metas, and you're telling me he didn't know that a untrained kid snuck up and stole from him?
He forgot who he was, he didn't forget where he lived! Even when he was Ric Grayson, Dick had procedural memory. His battle instincts stayed with him.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #52
"Then...I didn't even know what I was doing. I took him down--took him apart in seconds."
This man is a vigilante machine when he was amnesic. Why the heck would Dick ever let his guard down?
His robin reference
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #92
Even Bruce in Batman: Hush has said it-Dick was the best. His skills were the best of anyone he's witnessed which is one of the reasons why Bruce let him be Robin in the first place.
This scene is so wrong that there's a robin scene that came out before this in direct opposition of this Tom Taylor Shitshow.
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Robin & Batman Issue #1
This was actually pre-robin. Bruce had him do a solo-trial run to see his skill before he made him Robin and this was the result. Compare that to Tom Taylor's scene and the result is humiliating. For Taylor.
Tom Taylor's version of trying to show that Dick loves the people comes off as him hating crime-fighting. RIP the whole Robin firing drama and Nightwing birth i guess.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #79
"We could have avoided all of this if we'd just stayed in and eaten kibble."
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #3
Dick would rather die than stop crime-fighting. After Blockbuster's first attempt, his life was hanging on by a thread and he still continued crime fighting.
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #91
After Blockbuster blew up his apartment, this is the single-minded determination Dick had to continue crime-fighting. This is him at one of the worst lows of his life but he refused to give up but now? He has everything and Dick wants to ignore the murder of a child to stay inside and eat kibble which - what the heck? I know he's seen as a happy character but him finding dog-food desirable is too far!
Also the idiocy of which Tom Taylor had Barbara calling the cops in Bludhaven for a stolen wallet. Newsflash! This isn't her first rodeo here.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #81
vs
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #24
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Nightwing (2011) Issue #23
Given how Dick's easily defeated enhanced metas and "very good" fighters, him falling down the stairs is a little to absolutely impossible to believe.
Another thing I love about Dick that Tom Taylor deciminates is his grace. Dick is the most graceful person in DC. His balance easily matches Selina's enhanced cat powers.
But yet. You have.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #83
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Nightwing (2011) Issue #23
yeah. okay.
Taylor's motorbike scenes of Dick make me so mad. The boy is a pro at crazy. It's one of his best traits because he does the wildest stunts and he pulls it off.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #93
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #86
He lands on his feet. He grabbed a villain mid-air, crashed into a window, and was perfectly fine. Actually no, he's not fine because he's worried about his bike's paint job.
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Nightwing (2011) Issue #24
He just sailed over a whole crowd of people and started kicking butt like what he just did wasn't extraordinary - which for him is just another tuesday.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #95
yeah, tell 'er Dick.
He doesn't need someone to hold his bike.
One of the worst things in Taylor's run is how Blockbuster went down. It suddenly reminded me of Selina's stupid ideology which is why I think I got so ticked off.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #96
Blockbusters' thugs loyalty to him isn't a make it or break it deal. He's one of strongest criminal organisations and the knowledge that he owns one of the worst prisons that he could easily put his underlings into would've instilled fear into his thugs, not freedom. Furthermore Blockbuster takes good care of his people that don't piss him off. He teamed up with Nightwing in the scarecrow era in Nightwing (2016) because someone was messing with his people. He's extremely intelligent and superstrong, and he's not just going to be brought down by the knowledge that he owns a prison. It's Bludhaven. If he didn't, then there would be something suspicious given that he runs the city. It's the way Taylor dumbs down Bludhaven's villains that gets to me. Imagine him writing Batman (2016). It's like saying, "yeah the Joker was just a little misguided but he found the right way again after a stern talking to by Batman."
Nightwing is a big name.
When Dick first came to Bludhaven, one of the police officers was like we don't want your crazy here or something. Also Bludhaven loves Nightwing. They want him.
So why is everyone pretending like they don't know who he is?
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #90
The police, the citizens, the villains-all of them. Dick fought Brutale and beat the crap out of him way back in 1996 comic. He's a Bludhaven regular. Just because Dick forgot who he was doesn't mean anyone else forgot him. Amnesia doesn't work that way.
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Nightwing (2016) Issue #54
A whole team of Nightwings were formed during Dick's amnesic period because of how badly he was needed and missed. It's almost like the Tom Taylor run is set in an alternate universe.
I ran out of image space but what the absolute fiddlesticks is up with Dick being scared to jump. It better be a manipulation tactic but at this point I think Tom Taylor doesn't even know that Dick is manipulative.
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dragon-ascent · 2 months
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I feel like Zhongli would be both happy and embarrassed if his s/o, who's an artist, just started making at selling merch of him to everyone in Liyue. Statues, paintings, wood carvings, figurines, plushies, etc.
Then one day, she starts getting commissioned to do merch of others and suddenly he's not so embarrassed anymore. Instead, he's getting pouty that she's making artwork and plushies of someone other than him.
Imagine him glaring at a Venti plushie
Gosh yes!!
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Zhongli finds himself sitting rather puzzled among a pile of statuettes, plushies, and all sorts of paraphernalia that are, for the first time in a while, not reflections of himself - but instead of Venti the bard.
"Darling," he calls out helplessly, "what of the merchandise in my image?" Just when his blushing was starting to be not of embarrassment, but something else...
You poke your head through the doorway and tilt your head nonchalantly. "No longer in demand!"
He sighs and picks up the Venti plushie, mumbling under his breath. He wants to find something to hate on, but this little guy was just so expertly made - he can see why anyone would want one, especially since they were so meticulously crafted by your hands. He guarantees they'll be sold out within seconds.
He just didn’t think he would still find ways to be annoyed by that bard in this day and age. And what a trivial thing to be miffed about!
Zhongli clicks his tongue in disapproval, although unsure whether that feeling is directed to Venti or to his own emotions. So he chooses to wind up a music box (again, one of Venti's tunes that you'd put in it) and lie there in his misery while that bard taunts him.
The situation, unserious as it is, makes you giggle and climb on top of him. Your husband, staring listlessly at the ceiling, barely acknowledges you.
"My silly man," you quip, planting a nice big kiss on his lips. This causes his demeanor to soften, and his irises swivel to you almost mechanically. His arms wrap around you, but his lip is still curled in disapproval.
He murmurs, "You are talented, my love. Far too talented."
"Thank you!" You trace your finger along his cheek. "Tell you what, I'll make a huuuuge statue of you, bigger than the Barbatos one in Mondstadt."
A small smile cracks Zhongli's defeated expression. "Really now?"
"And it'll have flower garlands made of a million silk flowers! I'll even ask Xianyun for help with a device that plays tunes in praise of you all day and all night!"
Finally, the silly man chuckles and kisses your forehead. "Just your love is enough, my dear."
Beaming, you rest your head on his chest in content.
"Ah, one more thing."
"Yes?" You look back up at him.
He clears his throat, averting his gaze as his cheeks gain a pink tint. "Would you perhaps be willing to take a private commission from me for some more of those trinkets?"
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mncxbe · 3 months
Text
ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑Pretty when you cry
𝑻𝒆𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖, 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒐, 𝑻𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
𝒄𝒘: degradation, dirty talk and rough sex Jouno's part, overstim. hurt×comfort, hair pulling, difficulty breathing, reader crying, not proofread
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𝑻𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂
"Oh sweet girl you're doing so well– fuck 'm gonna cum soon". Praises spilled from your partner's lips as he grabbed a handful of your hair, guiding your mouth lower onto his cock. His leaking tip hit the back of your throat with each thrust of his hips, triggering your gag reflex. "No, no baby cmon you can take it. Hollow out your cheeks f'me"
Of course, you complied, sucking him in your mouth even further. You rolled your tongue around his tip, trying to speed up his release. It's been an especially stressful day for Tachihara and you wanted to provide some release but it took him longer than usual to cum. Your throat was bruised, jaw slack and you could barely breathe– almost choking on the sticky mixture of saliva, snoot and precum that flooded the back of your throat. The tight grip he had on your hair didn't help either: your scalp was burning where he fiercely pulled at your roots. You felt tears pooling at your lashing but you tried to push the discomfort back as much as you could. After all, he was close and you didn't want to ruin his orgasm.
"Oh fuck shit baby s' good ya gonna take it all in that pretty little mouth right?" You nodded weakly resting your palms on his knees for support right before he bucked his hips into your mouth, painting it white with his cum. "Fuck darling you're just getting better and better–" he sighed, hooking a finger under your chin to tilt your head up. The moment your gazes met Tachihara's heart shattered in a million pieces– your eyes were bloodshot, glistening with tears and you were basically shaking.
"Baby..." he whispered in a strained voice, pulling you off the floor and onto his lap. "Are you alright? I didn't mean to-" "No, no Michi i'm ok it was just a bit... intense" you confessed but you still wouldn't meet his gaze. With a defeated sigh, Tachihara wrapped his arms around you and rubbed your arm, soothing you. "Look, baby. I'm sorry if I went too far. Please tell me next time if it's too much. The last thing I want is to hurt you"
"But you were enjoying yourself. I didn't want to ruin it for you" you said under your breath, your voice strained. "You could never ruin it for me. Just talk to me next time, ok? Promise? I couldn't possibly enjoy myself knowing that my girl is in pain"
Sighing, you finally raised your gaze to face him "Ok. I promise Michi. 'm sorry". "No need to apologize, darling" he smiled back, placing a loving kiss on the crown of your head before teasingly running his fingers along the wristband of your pajama pants. "Now, how about I make it up to you, hm? I'll run us a bath after".
𝑻𝒆𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖
You felt dizzy, head spinning. Your loving boyfriend has been eating you out for what felt like hours– his tongue skilfully flicking your sensitive nub with each lap. His slender fingers slid in and out of you. Slowky, gently working you open. "Hiro baby" you cooed, your back arching when the tips of his fingers brushed against your sweet spot "Y'doing so well". Tecchou moaned into your cunt in response, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulled you closer to his face. He was so messy with it– his lips and chin coated in your slick, eyes half lidded and jaw slack from how much he ate you out; his hips desperately rutted into the mattress trying to get some sort of relief. Still, your pleasure was above all and he wouldn't stop until you came on his tongue.
Still, two orgasms later he wouldn't stop. Your doting boyfriend was so drunk on your scent and taste to care for your cries and pleas. You tried to peel him away from your weeping cunt, shaky fingers lacing in his hair but he just wouldn't have it– he simply mumbled against your pussy, his nose brushing against your puffy clit "C'mon angel one more. One more f'me I know you can do it."
You wanted to let him please you, to allow him to make you cum again and again until your legs were shaking and all you could utter was his name but the ache between your legs begged for a break. So you choked out a sob, yanking Tecchou's head away from your cunt making him face you.
"I– Ineed a break love" you huffed out, bottom lip pushed forward into the most adorable pout the man has ever seen. Tecchou hummed, leaning his head on your soft thigh– droopy eyed gazing up at you. You were so pretty like this with your flushed cheeks and puffy eyes and heaving breath, your chest raising and falling with each shallow breath you took "Why? You were so close angel. Don't you wanna cum?" "I do baby. Just... need a little break" you smiled sweetly, stroking his hair gently. Your boyfriend returned the smile, his lips tracing soft kisses along your inner thigh, getting closer and closer to your core. "Really? Need a break sweets you sure?" You could clearly make out the sultry edge in his voice despite it being masked by sweet innocence. And fuck... you would've lied if this didn't take a toll on you.
Your walls clenched around nothing when you saw the way he eyed your slick cunt– he was basically drooling, glossy eyes pleading for just another taste of you. And just like that the burning sensation in your core was replaced by neediness. Wiping the dried up tears from your face you nestled yourself between the pillows, pulling his head back against your soaked cunt. And, as always, your boyfriend was more than happy to comply.
𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒐
"Shiit–yea take this dick, slut. God ye'r so tight for me still throught you'd loosen up a little" purred the man behind you. His thrusts were harsh, painfully deep- the tip of his cock bruising your sweet spot with each movement. "Ye like that, huh? What a dirty little slut you are...". With that he squeezed your hips tighter; his nails digging into your flesh leaving purplish crescent marks.
Normally his punishing words would make you see stars and melt into him but right now they had the exact opposite effect. You didn't have the best day– work was messy and you were tired and he was just making it all worse.
He pushed your head further into the pillows, drilling himself into your cunt as his free hand groped your tit squeezing it harshly. That did it for you– the sob you were holding in spilled from your lips as you started weeping into the pillows. Jouno, too lost in the feeling of your mushy walls clamping down on him, didn't notice the actual pain you were in. "Dumb whore ya love this dick so much you gonna cry for it? I love it when you get so stupid f'me–"
"Sai please stop" you whispered weakly. "What?" he cooed, hot breath dripping on your neck, his pace unwavering "Ya said something? Sorry, can't hear you over the sound of your sloppy cunt milking me—"
"I told you to stop" you cried out louder this time and by the strained sound of your voice Jouno knew– oh he knew he screwed up. He quickly pulled out of you, flipping you onto your back so you could face him. "Darling are you alright did I go too far?" he said softly, reaching a hand to cup your cheek but you quickly brushed him off telling him it's alright. Fuck, what had he done? The last thing Jouno wished for was to make you suffer, to hurt you. "My love, I know it's not alright" He cupped your face with his hands, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks "I'm sorry. I should've paid more attention to you sweetheart. I love you I never meant to hurt you"
Frankly, seeing you cry like this broke his heart. He pulled you into a tight hug, his hands slowly working the tension out of your body, soothing your sore muscles. "I'm sorry, so so sorry pretty girl". His sweet words and affections managed to calm you down eventually and you smiled softly. "Pretty girl?" you mumbled sleepily making the man chuckle "Yea, my pretty girl..." That night as you both fell asleep entagled with one another Jouno promised himself he wouldn't make you cry ever again– for any reason.
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wonfilms · 10 months
Text
syn : jealous niki , that’s it that’s the post
warnings : n/a. [ reblogs / comments are very much appreciated !! ]
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niki didn’t know why he was feeling this way. he trusted you completely, hell he would even trust you with his own life...
but every single gaze the boy,  who was currently speaking to you , gave you, made him scoff. he was mindlessly flirting with you, and somehow you weren’t picking up on it, you were just smiling , oh so, politely like you always do and it made his blood boil even more. 
you’d already said you had a boyfriend to him, and yet he still thinks it’s completely okay to ogle at you like that. he knows you’re pretty, and there’s bound to other people who think you are too but niki just couldn’t get over it.
he wouldn’t say anything right away obviously, that would be admitting he’s jealous.... which he is. niki wished you were here talking to him instead, though at least right now he can shoot glares at the blonde, across the room currently occupying your attention. 
he flushed with embarrassment as you caught him looking, you could’ve almost laughed with how cute the scowl painted across his face looked. you excused yourself curtly from the conversation before striding towards niki who was currently trying to look at anything but you. 
“hey babe? you okay?“ you held back a snigger as you saw him clear his throat quickly before answering you, “yeah i’m fine? who was that anyways?“ he asked ,seemingly innocently. 
“ rin , from highschool... why?“ you smiled, he would’ve gotten away with his attempt at being nonchalant  if it wasn‘t for the frown that appeared on niki’s face at the mere mention of rin’s name. 
“are you jealous niki?“ you laughed, pulling him in for a hug. he shook his head but after knowing him for so long, you found his lie instantly. 
“okay and if you’re not lying why are your ears bright red right now?“ 
he let out a sigh of defeat before looking at you again, “he was looking at you weirdly”
“how was he looking at me? “ you questioned, slipping your hand into his giving it a gentle squeeze of re-assurance. 
“he was looking at you like i look at you, i didn’t like it“ he muttered before pulling you in for a hug again. “yeah and how do you look at me?“
he blushed slightly, “you know how i look at you...”
“i’m just joking niki, of course i know. “ you brushed his hair out of his face before replying, “you know you’re the only one who i look at like that right?”
“yeah i do “ he smirked seemingly recovered from his mood from before, “wanna ditch the party now?“ 
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a/n : my writing is so rusty rn but i hope you like this one! mwah!
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forteafy · 10 months
Note
3 + max!
MV1 x 'You and your stupid smile...Get that shit away from me.'
I've NEVER written for Max before, but I'm low-key in my enemies to lovers arc with him.
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Loosing your paddock pass was bad; the rain tricking down the back of your neck was worse.
Working behind-the-scenes of Formula 1 came with some incredible perks; good pay, cooperate outings & the anonymity of your life; you’d seen it go really bad for some couples which had gone public. The same had gone for you and your ex-boyfriend, the golden child of Christian Horner. 
After a few weeks of cold stares and silence, the press had died down on your part, leaving you alone whilst the cameras were continuously shoved into Max’s face; his stance was to keep his head down, his target solely being his third championship. Eventually, you faded back into one of the unknown faces of Red Bull Racing, a whisper sometimes crossing from a rival team; you. It was you. The ex-girlfriend of Max Verstappen. 
Albeit, being well-known may have helped you in your current situation. Instead, you were stood in front of a security guard, arms folded as he waiting for you to pull out a pass. In all fairness, how many women showed up in team attire, playing the card that they had ‘forgotten’ their pass? Your phone was still at the hotel; a silent regret you had thought of, imagining your pass laid atop of it on your mad rush to leave that morning. Fuck Christian Horner for moving the meeting two hours earlier. 
You were on the verge of admitting defeat- you would have admitted defeat, if not for the sudden eyebrow raise by the security guard and the voice emitting from behind you. 
“She’s okay. She’s with me.” He nods, pulling his cap tighter to his head upon the weather becoming heavier. There’s a gentle pressure at the small of your back; after giving a thankful nod towards the security guard, Max leads the two of you through the barrier, waiting until you reached the other side to raise his eyebrows at you. 
“No pass? That’s not like you.” He hums; his voice seems almost a ghost, having barely spoken more than ten words to one another in the past few months. 
“No. Blame your boss.” You huff, feeling your clothes dampen by the minute. On top of the triple header, it seems you’re going to be carrying a huge cold through Austria and Silverstone. “Who moves forward a meeting at four in the morning?” 
Max can’t help the smirk settling on his face; he’d miss this. The upmost sulking. The sheer black-cat energy that emitted from you. Everybody had been used to seeing him as the grumpy trope, anybody who knew the two of you understood it was so, so different. 
“Don’t.” You snap, the wind only getting heavier, now soaking through the Red-Bull shirt you’d freshly steamed that morning. 
“Don’t what?”
“You and your stupid smile…get that shit away from me.” 
You’d not been able to get his grin out of your mind for weeks. Interviews, meetings, press conferences, nights out. It was always there, a reminder he wasn’t the cold, heartless brute the media could paint him as. 
Your mind is drawn out of its trance of thoughts when you feel a sudden warmth pressed around your shoulders, vision darkening as something covers your sodden head; Max had wiggled out of his own windbreaker, slipping it around your body, pulling the hood up to cover your head. The man waits patiently, and at this point your body is so cold, it will take anything. 
It’s clearly not thinking either, as once you’ve adjusted the garment, you automatically reach out to clasp Max’s hand, breath catching when you feel nothing but raindrops and cold air. 
You prey he hasn’t noticed, ready to simply thank him for his gesture and walk on. What you didn’t expect, was for his hand to find yours, motioning forward, hands interlocked for the first time in months. And you couldn’t be mad, not truly. Not when you looked up at the man whom sacrificed his warmth and dry for you. 
And especially not with that smile. A smile that emitted when Daniel walked past, eyes widening at seeing his favourite couple reunited for the first time in months. 
Max says nothing, but his smile says it all. 
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