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mishaandthebrits · 2 years

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You just need to ask - (Pierre Gasly x Reader) 🔥🔥🔥

First time in quite a while I've posted, please let me know what you think <3

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Pierre is your best friend and invited you to join him at the Grand Prix where you find out more things than you had anticipated.

Warnings: Smut, Smut, Smut, like seriously, Dom!Pierre, Unprotected Sex (you know the drill, stay safe and wrap it up), Light Bondage, Teasing

Masterlist

It had been 4th grade when you met Pierre and ever since then the two of you were inseparable. You were as close as best friends could possibly be, you knew and loved his parents, he was close to your family and both of you made an effort to see each other as often as possible even with your busy schedules. Pierre often invited you to race weekends whenever you had a free weekend without work, just like you had right now.

Pulling your suitcase through the Nice Airport you let your glance glide through the crowd that had formed in the arrivals area and smiled when you saw Charles waving with a grin. You knew that Pierre had PR responsibilites so he had asked Charles to come and get you from the airport.

"Bonjour Charles!", you greeted him with a hug which he immediately returned pulling you close.

"Bonjour Y/N/N! Oh I'm so glad you're here! He couldn't shut up about being so excited to see you again. It was really annoying.", he spoke and grabbed your suitcase guiding you outside to where his car was parked.

"You know, I still don't get over how casually you're driving around in that car...", you mumbled while getting into the car after he held the door open for you.

"I mean, you get used to it.", he laughed as he started driving towards Monaco. "So, will you tell him at some point?", he asked after a while of casual smalltalk and catching up.

"Tell who what now?", you frowned and watched him closely. He couldn't know could he? After all you hadn't seen him in person in months.

"Pierre of course and you know exactly what I'm talking about. The fact you're in love with him obviously.", he shook his head and kept his eyes on the road.

"I... I'm not.", you mumbled and blushed. Most likely your face was about the sam color as his Ferrari Cap by now.

"I'm not stupid Y/N. The way the two of you treat each other is not the way friends do and both of you know that. Just... think about telling him, okay? You are the only person that is able to change his mood to the positive no matter what and from what I've heard its the same for you, so please just think about it okay? Both of you deserve to be happy and you're happiest whenever you are together, you know?", he explained with a soft smile on his lips making you think about what he just said.

-Monaco-

Charles had dropped you off at Pierre's hotel before heading to his own flat to spend some time with his girlfriend before the stress of the race weekend. The reception knew you were coming so you immediately got a keycard and headed up to the room. Opening the door you entered and soon found a note on the table.

Mon amour, Welcome to Monaco! Sorry I still have to work, I'll be back around 6 so we can go out to dinner and catch up. I've missed you! Love, Pierre

Unpacking your suitcase you placed the clothes in the half of the wardrobe that Pierre had left empty for you and then picked out your favorite summer dress before taking a shower and getting yourself ready.

You had just finished when the hotel room door opened and Pierre stepped inside.

"Y/N!", he yelled and wrapped his arms around you tightly. "Oh I'm so happy you're here! I've missed you so much, you have no idea!", he smiled and picked you up spinning you around happily.

"Urg, you're smelling!", you laughed but hugged him back anyways.

"Okay okay, I'll take a quick shower and then we can go out to dinner. Well as long as you've left hot water.", he grinned and let go of you to head to the bathroom.

"You know damn well you're the one taking the long showers!", you yelled after him with a smile and sat down on the bed with your phone. Pierre usually took about half an hour to get ready so you had some time to spare and opened Tumblr. Over the years your timeline had shown you amazing fan art of Pierre and Charles which you always showed them then. All of the fans were super talented making you love the website and app.

While scrolling you came across one of the fan fictions that regularly showed up on your timeline and curiously clicked Read more for once after hearing the water running still. Biting your lip nervously you read the story featuring your best friend having very descriptive sex.

"You know Y/N, you just need to ask me... No need to read stories.", you heard Pierre's voice behind you and saw his hand grab your phone.

"Wha! Pierre no!", you yelled blushing and turned around to get your phone back but he held it above your head while reading what was on screen.

"I mean yeah, that's hot.", he licked his lips and then pulled his bottom lip with his teeth all while looking at you. "And I'd absolutely do that... oh yes, that too... uhh, I didn't know you read those kind of stories about me amour.", he smirked down at you.

"I dont! I mean... that one was on my timeline, but I usually don't! I swear!", you tried to defend yourself making him chuckle.

"You know, I was serious... You say the words and I'll happily do just that and more with you.", Pierre spoke and handed your phone back to you still smirking.

Looking at him you blushed and then looked at the floor nervously.

"What about we eat dinner first and then we talk about dessert, hm?", he suggested pulling his shirt down and then took your hand gently.

"You know, Charles thinks we're in love.", you admitted quietly making him roll his eyes.

"He told you too? He asked me about the yesterday... But that got me thinking and honestly... I think he might be right on my part.", the man opposite of you shrugged nervously.

"I think on my side too.", you had hardly whispered when you felt him pull you closer and gently kissing your lips. After a moment he pulled away and smiled softly. A smile that most likely mimicked yours to the dot.

"I would love to keep doing that right now, but I don't think we'd be leaving this room in that case. So dinner first? We can talk about it all and then we come back and continue this? I've got a lot of catching up to do.", Pierre offered holding your hand in his and you nodded.

During dinner the both of you caught up, about life in general, what happened since you last saw each other and about the championship. After a while the two of you finished dinner and started the walk back to the hotel hand in hand.

"So Charles knew all along hm?", you asked him with a smile and squeezed his hand.

"Apparently he did. Seems like I wasn't as good as I thought at hiding it.", he shrugged with a smirk and wrapped his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer to him.

"Seems like neither of us was.", you giggled back just when the hotel came into view.

"So, what exactly was that story you read about now?", Pierre grinned just when the elevator doors closed.

"Well, I think it included you talking French, then there was a part where you used your tongue for even better things and then it also included you being romantic.", you mumbled looking up at him and biting your lips.

"I think you forgot a crucial part amour. The part I read also included teasing, tying you up and then fucking you senseless. Perhaps we should read the story again hm?", Pierre grinned and took your phone from your back pocket unlocking it without any trouble. After all he did have access because he knew your passcode, just the way you knew his as well. "So lets see... Tumblr... Oh yes, here we are.", he mumbled leading you to your shared room. Once he opened the door the both of you stepped in and he immediately had his lips on yours with your back pressed against the now closed door.

Stroking your cheek he watched you with a smirk and lead you towards the bedroom. "Oh, this is my favorite part of the story.", Pierre grinned widely.

"His thick cock filled me up and while he pushed deep into me his huge hands wrapped around my throat choking me. I felt the need to touch him, pull his hair, mark him, anything really, but I couldn't because the man currently fucking me senseless had tied me to the bed using his belt.", Pierre read out loud and bit his bottom lip. "You know, I intend to do just that. All night long. And then maybe again in the morning, who knows? I just know for sure that you're not gonna be able to walk anywhere tomorrow, so we probably have to cancel the plans with Charles and then endure his teasing... but I can deal with that.", he added pushing you on the bed with a grin and then immediately kissing you again.

"You know cherie, j'adore cette robe. Je vais t'en acheter un nouveau robe." I love this dress. I'll get you a new one., he whispered tearing the dress apart leaving you in just your underwear. "Fuck.", he mumbled looking at you with a mischievous look in his eyes. "And I thought you in a bikini was hot, but this lace stuff? Merde...".

"Come on... You're wearing way too much Pierre.", you pulled on his shirt with a pout making him chuckle before removing it. You stared at him and gently traced his abs with your finger tips.

"God I can't wait to wake up to you doing that.", Pierre whispered making you blush yet again. "But for now I'm gonna have to tie you up.", he stroked your cheek and pulled his belt out of the loops before carefully wrapping it around your arms and the bed frame and then closing it. "Is that too tight my love?", he asked and you shook your head with a smile.

"Good girl.", he replied kissing you for a moment before continuing to undress himself while you wiggled to close your legs embarrassed by the effect his words had on you.

"Ts ts ts, non non, ça n'arrivera pas amour. J'aime que j'ai cet effet sur toi." No no, that's not gonna happen. I love that I have this effect on you, he whispered pulling your legs open even further than they had been to begin with. "And don't think I don't know about your little kink. I know you better than you think remember?", he chuckled and began kissing down your neck towards your chest.

"You know ... whenever you get a compliment ... you blush ... and don't know how to react? ... That was ... the first clue ...", he mumbled and kept kissing your skin in between the words.

"P-please Pierre.", you whimpered and felt him smile against your breast.

"Please what mon ange?" (my angel), he asked while unclasping your bra and pulling it over your head to rest around your hands.

"Please touch me. Please. We've waited so long.", you whined and hit him with your best puppy dog eyes.

"You look so pretty like this ma belle.", he complimented and continued kissing down your stomach only to remove your panties with his teeth.

"Ah, enfin ma chatte.", Pierre mumbled after removing your panties and throwing them to the side. He liked his lips while looking at your pussy and soon grabbed your thighs to hold them open. With a smirk he began to kiss and give your pussy tiny licks making you moan. You back automatically arched to get him closer only for him to push your hips down.

"Patience amour.", he grinned and kept kissing and licking before slowly inserting a finger into you. "I know you like my fingers and hands baby.", he smirked moving it inside of you before adding a second one and scissoring them open to properly prepare you.

"Please Pierre, I need you. Please.", you moaned wiggling around to try and touch him.

Without another comment he pulled his fingers back and removed his boxers to reveal his hard cock.

"Fuck... I don't have protection...", he groaned. "Didn't exactly expect this.", he then chuckled and looked at you.

"I'm on the pill, please. I really need you right now mon coeur, please.", you begged looking at him with wide eyes.

"Are you sure?", he asked again and you nodded with a smile.

"You're so good to me angel.", he whispered before stroking himself once or twice and then slowly and gently pushing into you. With a deep breath he held still to let you adjust to his size and only started moving when you nodded and asked him to please do.

"Oh you feel so good.", he moaned and began kissing you while stroking your skin ultimately ending up kneading you breasts while gently pushing in again and again.

"Pierre, please. I need more. Show me... show me how you want to fuck me, please.", you begged when he kissed your neck instead of your mouth.

"You sure?", he frowned and stopped for a second.

"Yes! Yes I'm sure. Please fuck me. Show me how you treat bad girls that tease you.", you tried to get him to properly deliver on his promise he made earlier.

"Your wish is my command ma belle.", he kissed you then finally began to fuck you like he had promised. Pushing in with so much force you kept getting thrust into the mattress.

"You're doing so well baby. I'm so proud of you.", Pierre kept mumbling while fucking into you. You were close and from the looks he was too.

"Come on darling, you can come for me.", he lovingly spoke and began massaging your pussy with his wonderful long fingers. Only seconds later your orgasm washed over you, Pierre however didn't stop.

"You're my good girl right baby? Do you think you have another one in you?", he cooed and immediately you nodded wanting to make him proud.

"Come on then baby, whenever you're ready, I'll be right behind you.", he whispered and kissed you again while not stopping the teasing with his fingers. Moments later you came again moaning loudly and indeed Pierre was right behind. He kept kissing you while fucking you through your orgasm and then stilling inside of you. His fingers gently stroked your cheek and he looked at you with a love filled gaze.

"Je t'aime mon ange.", he admitted while untying your arms and making you smile all fucked out.

"I love you too my heart.", you replied tiredly and whined when he pulled out of you slowly. He got up and went to the bathroom before coming back and cleaning you carefully. Right afterwards he laid back down in bed and pulled you in his arms. He held you close to his chest and stroked your hair.

"You did so well my love. I'm so proud of you.", Pierre mumbled and kissed you again with a gentle smile.

"Next time I read something like this I'll tell you right away okay? So we can copy it.", you giggled tiredly and made him laugh along.

"Yes please. Does that mean you're my girlfriend now then?", Pierre asked suddenly shy and you nodded.

"Well if you want me to be, I happily would... Although that means our friends were right."

"I'm not even mad they were for once.", Pierre replied and held you close with a smile while you fell asleep with him following shortly after.

#Pierre Gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly smut #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #smutty #f1 imagines

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khaotunq · 2 months

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some incredibly alluring people have tagged me in things. ro and pip @sollucets @boozles are way too hot for me to cope with, quite frankly.

people i’d like to get to know better

last song: i've been back on a The Vaccines kick, so I Can't Quit just finished and now it's If You Wanna

favorite color: green. everything that can vaguely be construed as green or vaguely green-ish is fair game. my entire flat is teal, duck egg, forest green, palm green, tropical plant prints, and also overloaded with actual plants. g r e e n.

currently watching: basically nothing, lmao. Cherry Magic TH, and I've given up on everything else. I did watch Love for Love's Sake the other day and I also watched Destiny Seeker and yelled at Chiara for half of it. She got a lot of voice notes/me recording my screen and rambling incoherently about it. She's a very patient woman and I think that's very sexy of her.

last movie: I don't really watch movies? I genuinely can't think of the last one I watched through.

sweet, spicy or savoury: Sweet if I had to pick one, I have such a sweet tooth, but I like all three a lot.

last thing you googled: dragon tea pearls, to check i hadn't invented them, for a fic i literally passingly mention them in.

relationship status: single and genuinely at peace with it.

current obsession: shokupan. i made a loaf the other day when i was sick and it's all i've been able to think about ever since. i'm considering trying to make shio pan. we'll see.

selfie/another picture you took: i posted a selfie last time i did this one and the last dozen photos in my phone are photos of my screen that i've been sending to chiara with commentary. instead, have a gif that'll appear as a bonus in an upcoming set:

idk anyone who hasn't done this but if you haven't and want to, say i tagged you and i'll not only not deny it, but i'll edit to put you here

#about jay #got tagged!

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baekhansol · 3 years

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relief & reassurance

pairing: san x reader, wooyoung x reader (both san & wooyoung are doms, reader is sub)

genres: comfort, angst-ish, smut, completely self indulgence | rating: mature ! do not interact if a minor

word count: 3812

plot: you're feeling down, and your boyfriends try to make you feel better

warnings: depression, self hatred, skin picking disorder, body weight insecurity, polyamourous relationship, nipple/ breast play, fingering, sex toy usage, oral, bdsm themes, doms/sub relationships, orgasm denial & control, squirting, spanking, choking, biting/marking/slight scratching, a bit of hair pulling, slight teasing, use of pet names (princess, good girl), bulge kink, creampie, unprotected sex (please be safe!!), doggystyle, praise kink, multiple orgasm, pain kink(?), threesome, use of the color light system (just check-ins, no safe word use), subspace, and sweet sweet aftercare - as usual, let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: this is a very very self indulgent fic. a very special thanks to @sugasbabiie for beta reading this for me and pointing out some things that I needed to change 💜💜💜

You felt disgusting, broken, and just downright depressed. You were supposed to hang out with San for the night, but he was running late. So you went ahead and ordered takeout, getting his favorite. Ever since you started dating him and Wooyoung, you would take time to have a date night with them separately and together. That way, you wouldn't always be the victim of their teasing.

You hear San unlocking the door, so you do your best to act fine as you go over to greet him.

"I'm glad you're finally here!" You say, pulling him into a hug.

"Hi baby," he says, his dimples appearing as he hugs you back. "It smells delightful," San adds, pulling back and looking at you. His eyebrow twitches, and you're afraid he is going to ask what was wrong, but instead, he takes off his shoes.

"I'm glad! I bought your favorite barbecue, and I think it might still be warm," you tell him, clapping your hands once as you go to check, San trailing behind.

"Did you already eat?" He checks, looking at you sternly as he breaks the wooden chopsticks.

"Yes, and if you want proof, it's in the trash can," you say, looking down and away.

"Alright," he says, his voice softening immediately. "Go turn something you like on, okay? I'll eat and then clean up."

You nod and kiss his cheek, going back and turning on the show you've been marathoning. San comes and sits next to you, eating and half-heartedly paying attention.

You lean against his shoulder and curl up into your blanket, trying to relax. Your insecurities were getting the better of you.

When San finishes his food, he kisses your cheek. "I'll be back in a few," he says, and you know he is going to shower.

"Make sure to brush your teeth!"

"I will," San responds with a chuckle.

When San returns from cleaning up, you hadn't realized you zoned out from the show and started crying. He turns off the TV and pulls you into his lap slowly, giving you the opportunity to pull away.

You don't, so you end up letting out a soft sob against his chest. San soothingly plays with your hair and rubs your back, letting you cry while saying soothing words in your ear.

"It's okay baby, let it out. I'm here for you, don't worry. You can tell me anything; you know that, right?"

When you’ve calmed down enough, and you blow your nose, San finally asks, "What has you so worked up, Y/N?"

You sigh, looking away and shaking your head.

"I just want to help," he assures you, "So please, tell me."

He wipes your tears away with his thumb, his own eyes full of concern.

"I've just been… feeling really insecure and hating my body," you murmur, looking away. "I hate that I have a stupid skin picking disorder. I hate how fat I am. I hate my stretch marks and my stupid eyes. I hate that I have two incredibly attractive boyfriends, and I'm just a potato," you rant, getting overly worked up to the point you start crying again.

"No, no, no, no, precious no," San says, his heart breaking as he sends a quick text to Wooyoung (get your ass over here asap).

"You're so beautiful, okay? We are all humans with flaws. Woo and I are idols, so that's why you think that. Remember my high school and middle school photos? I'd probably look worse than that now if I weren't an idol and could spend lots of money on skincare," he says with a slight giggle, handing you tissues again.

You take it and blow your nose again, groaning slightly. He just had to be logical.

"And I love all of you. I love your sexy body. I love your personality. I love the way you think and talk; how you see the world. I love your pretty eyes. They can see, you know? So you can see me," he giggles at that a little, gently kissing each of your eyelids.

"I love your pretty lips," he says, running a thumb over them. "I love your body. There's so much to cuddle, and you're soft and even better to cuddle than shiber, but don't tell them." At this, San gently starts caressing your body.

"And you know, your sweet tummy isn't going to be flat like mine. It's hard work to keep abs, and I generally don't eat before we perform to keep them there. Because when I eat, bye bye abs," he tells you, pulling his shirt up to show you how his stomach was just smooth and soft.

"And for your tummy," San begins, laying you down on the couch and pulling your shirt up to kiss it. "Your pretty tummy holds your uterus and the most precious parts of the entire female reproductive system, your ovaries and eggs. And right here," he kisses under your belly button, getting closer to over your pubic bone, a very sensitive spot for you, "right here is where all the magic happens."

You quirk an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain as you feel your cheeks heating up.

"It's where a baby will grow, if we decide to have one, and it's where your body let's you know it's reproductively healthy," he starts, kissing lower and lower each time, until you're biting your tongue to hold back a moan. San picks up the change in your state, swallowing the need to smirk.

"And your legs, your beautiful legs," he murmurs, massaging your feet and up your calves. "They carry you around all day and are so pretty." San kisses your shins, then slowly up your inner thighs, making you squirm.

His strong hands hold you in place as he continues worshiping your body. "You're beautiful thighs," he murmurs, nipping them. "They hide something beautiful between them, but even on their own…" San tries not to groan, as he can tell he is growing hard by your soft gasps. "They're soft and lovely to rest my head on, like your breasts, and I could spend all day marking them up. I love the way they jiggle like your ass does when spanked," he adds, looking you in your eye as he rubs your thigh, what he normally would do before spanking you.

When you nod, he gives them a resounding smack. This time, you don't hold back your moan.

He takes your hands in his, kissing your palms. "Your beautiful hands are perfect to hold, and your arms giving the best hugs, but don't tell Wooyoung or really anyone I said that," San giggles a little again, kissing up your arms, nipping here and there on the soft flesh.

"I know you hate how you pick at your arms, and I know how hard it is for you to control that impulse. But I want to help you, and I assure you Wooyoung feels the same way, okay?" he assures you.

You look away, more embarrassed than aroused now. "Precious, I asked you a question," he says, turning your chin to make you look at him, his dominance coming out.

"Yes sir," you say, biting your lip.

"You don't have to call me sir right now. This is about you. Now, can I make you feel good?" He whispers, his thumb ghosting over your lip as his knee ruts into your core.

"Please," you sigh, wondering if he would ask first or if he would make you beg.

Your word pleased him, as he immediately picks you up and kisses you deeply, carrying you to your bed.

“I love you so much; you know that, right?” San asks as he sets you down on the bed, helping you out of your shirt.

“I do,” you say softly, looking down as your face heats up.

San plants another sweet kiss on your lips, then slowly down your neck.

“Your soft skin is so kissable,” he says with a little giggle, nipping and sucking lightly, just enough to leave slight marks for the day. He undoes your bra, laying you back on the bed as his mouth travels down your decolletage, his hands caressing your breasts.

“You’re so precious to me, and I love all of you,” San assures you. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ll say yellow if you’re uncomfortable? Red if you want to stop?” he adds.

“I love you too,” you whisper, looking down at him lovingly. “And I always will,” you assure him.

He immediately takes one of your breasts in his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing your nipple, causing you to moan out his name.

He smiles against your skin, giving the same attention to the other breast. San begins to kiss down your stomach, humming while he does.

“I love your soft tummy,” he murmurs, looking up at you with utmost sincerity in his eyes. “It makes you extra cuddly,” he giggles.

You blush, not sure how to respond until he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts.

“May I?” San asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes please,” you say, raising your hips to help him. He ends up taking your underwear off as well, a somewhat sheepish smirk on his face.

“Sorry,” he says, his tone rather unconvincing.

You roll your eyes as he spreads your legs, his eyes going face to face with your heat.

“Can I eat you out?” he bluntly asks, his warm fingers opening your folds.

“Please,” you say, letting him position your legs better as he immediately licks your folds, kissing your clit.

You let out a soft whine of pleasure, falling back onto your bed and allowing yourself to relax. San continues to suck on your clit, feeling your arousal start to drip onto his chin as you clench around nothing. Before you could beg for more, San’s tongue enters you, lapping up your arousal and easily hitting the spots that make your orgasm begin to quickly grow. San’s nose rubs against your clit, and he smirks as you grind against his face.

“San~ Sannie~ ah~” you moan, causing him to chuckle softly. The vibrations make your toes curl, and you gasp and grab the sheets.

San reaches up and takes one of your hands in his, gently squeezing it in reassurance as he continues his ministrations.

As you start feeling closer to your orgasm, San stops. He stands up, causing you to whine.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done yet,” he says with a gentle laugh. San opens the drawer where you kept your sex toys and lube, and he takes something out you can’t quite see.

“What color are you?” he asks.

“Still green,” you assure him, trying to smile for him.

San kisses your forehead before going back down on you, this time putting his fingers inside of you. He turns on the bullet vibrator he took on a low setting and presses it against your clit, smirking when you groan his name and buck your hips.

“God, you’re so sexy like this,” he murmurs, kissing your thigh.

You whimper in response, boosting his ego. San turns up the setting on the vibrator, relishing in the power he had over you. He was glad he could help you feel better, even if it was only temporary. Which he hoped it wouldn’t. He wanted his words to have comforted you.

“I’m close-” you begin, your toes curling and thighs shaking.

San immediately pulls his fingers out of you and turns off the vibrator.

“San, what the fuck?” you whine. You weren’t being bratty; you were just confused.

“I promise I am still doing this to make you feel good,” he assures you, setting down the vibrator. “What color are you?” San asks.

“Green,” you admit, causing him to smirk and go back down on you.

After being denied twice, the coil built into a strong pressure, causing you to furrow your brows and whine out his name, being more vocal than usual. You almost feel overstimulated, but he holds your hips in place with firm hands so you can’t escape.

“San, fuck, I’m gonna- fuck!” you nearly sob, suddenly orgasming harder than you have in the past.

He lets you ride his tongue through your orgasm before he pulls up, a confident smirk on his now rather wet face. “I made you squirt,” he says proudly.

“I-?”

“Squirted, yeah,” San smugly confirms, standing up and sauntering to the bathroom. You’re not sure what he is doing in there, but he soon comes back with a dried face and a damp washcloth.

“I want to keep going,” you sheepishly admit.

He nods and cleans off some of the mess, tossing the washcloth into the hamper. “Let's take off the blankets then, yeah?” San says, helping you stand as he strips off the blanket.

You sit back down and look up at him, pulling him in for a kiss when he comes back. “I want you inside me,” you say softly, tugging at his pants.

“Be patient, you will,” he assures you, pulling away to undress himself.

His self-control never failed to surprise you because as soon as he got rid of his clothes, his hard length stood erect.

He hovers back over you, laying you down and kissing you sweetly. San grinds against you to test how sensitive you were. When you shivered, he stopped, continuing to gently kiss you.

San pulls away after a moment in order to align himself with your entrance. “I love you so much,” he tells you, sliding his tip in.

“I love you too, San,” you assure him, gasping as he continues to enter you, stilling only when he was fully seated inside.

“See, your tummy is even bigger now,” San giggles, rubbing your tummy.

“Are you trying to get me to say you have a big cock?” you giggle.

“No, but I wouldn’t be offended if you did say that,” he responds with a giggle of his own.

“San, please move your big cock,” you tease a little, laughing softly.

“As you wish, princess,” San teases right back, beginning to move at a comfortable, intimate pace.

You move your hips in tandem to his thrusts, gasping softly as he brushes your g spot.

“I’m so lucky to have you in my life,” San says, praising you sweetly. “You’re an amazing person, and I can’t believe you love me back.”

You feel yourself blushing, unable to say anything besides soft moans and whines.

“You’re so beautiful. Like this and any other time. You’re always beautiful,” he assures you, reaching down to start rubbing your clit.

You grab onto his bicep that was holding him up, whimpering his name.

“Good girl,” San groans, reaching down to capture your lips in a kiss. “Go ahead and cum when you need to, don’t hold back,” he adds, picking up his pace ever so slightly, knowing you were growing close.

“I- oh, fuck,” you whine, your nails digging into his bicep as you orgasm.

He continues to thrust through yours, and San soon releases inside of you.

“You couldn’t wait for me to get here?” You hear Wooyoung cry indignantly.

“How long have you been there?” San asks, pulling out of you and cupping your cheek before rolling onto the bed next to you, giving you a view of a very irritated and flustered Wooyoung.

“Long enough to start getting hard,” Wooyoung complains. You glance down to his crotch, and there was a definite tent in his pants.

“Well, this wasn’t the original plan,” San begins, and you are quick to look at the floor, taking great interest in the carpet suddenly. “Y/N was feeling depressed and very insecure about her body, and it just happened to lead to this,” San explains, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“You did?” Wooyoung asks, his eyes snapping to you.

You don’t look up at him or say anything, but you nod a little.

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything, but you know he walks over in front of you. His fingers grip your chin and tilt your head up. “I asked you a question,” he says, his eyes hard.

“I… yes…” you say, sounding uncertain of yourself.

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.

“I… don’t like myself?” you tell him, your words coming out as more of a question than a statement.

“Y/N,” Wooyoung says, trying his best not to sound disappointed. “You’re an amazing person. The best partner we could ask for. I don’t know what exactly is wrong, and I would love to talk about that later if you want. But I love you so fucking much, okay?” Wooyoung’s eyes were a little glossy, and you could tell how much he meant his words. He wanted you to feel better.

“I know… I love you both too…” You say, holding onto his arm before leaning up to give him a gentle kiss.

Wooyoung holds you close, deepening the kiss. “Is it okay if I have a turn?” he asks you, his hand resting on your hip.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you whisper, rubbing your noses together.

“I love you so much,” Wooyoung says, mostly to himself. He then asks, “Can I be rough?”

“Yes, I’ll say if it’s too much,” you assure him, Wooyoung and San both nodding.

Wooyoung is quick to undress and is soon guiding you onto all fours. He spreads open your legs and cheeks, watching San’s cum drip out of you. “You didn’t use a condom with San?” he leans forward and whispers into your ear.

San shrugs, knowing it didn’t matter since you were all clean and you were not likely to get pregnant.

Wooyoung pulls back and smacks your ass. “I love the sight,” he groans to himself, teasing your entrance as he smacks your other cheek. “I love how your body reacts to me,” Wooyoung says, grinning as you arch your back up, trying to get him inside of you.

“You had San, and you need more?” Wooyoung teases, slowly entering you.

“Yes, I need you too,” you gasp out, getting fistfuls of the sheets as you hold them to keep yourself up.

“Good,” Wooyoung grunts, beginning to harshly thrust into you.

“You’re making such a mess with your pretty cunt,” Wooyoung laughs a bit sadistically.

“Just for you, just for you both,” you manage to get out, angling your hips so he would hit your g spot.

“You’re such a good girl for us both, and you’re so fucking perfect,” Wooyoung groans.

San scoots up closer to your face, tilting up your chin to look at you. “You okay?” he whispers. “Color?” He knows Wooyoung could get a bit carried away at times, so he wanted to check.

“Green,” you choke out, your arms giving in on a particularly strong thrust.

Wooyoung slows his thrusts and grabs your hair, pulling you up and moving his hand to your throat. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. We are so lucky to have you,” he whispers, rolling his hips into yours.

You nod a little, your orgasm building again. Wooyoung hums softly and starts thrusting faster, grunting softly in your ear before he decides to suck colorful marks onto your neck and shoulder.

“That’s our girl,” he murmurs, reaching down to rub your clit as he squeezes your neck.

You gasp, your thoughts going blank from the slight lack of oxygen to your brain.

“Go on and cum on my cock, princess,” Wooyoung urges you, biting down on your shoulder as he squeezes your neck a little more, searching for his release.

At the slight increase in pressure, your body explodes, and you cum, your fluttering walls encouraging Wooyoung’s orgasm.

He lets up on your throat and clit, thrusting a few more times to ride out your highs. Wooyoung pulls out of you and helps you lay down, cupping your cheeks.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Wooyoung asks, cupping your cheeks.

You’re zoned out, blissed expression was a dead giveaway of your state, as you felt high and floaty.

“Damn, if I had known you were going to come and fuck her like that, I wouldn’t have made her squirt,” San says with a sigh, getting up.

“You did? Without me here to watch?” Wooyoung groans.

San shrugs, heading into the bathroom and drawing a bath.

You watched the two, not quite able to make out their conversation.

When Wooyoung picks you up, you gladly lean against his chest and gently hold him. He leads you into the bathroom and sets you in the tub, which San had filled with a bubble bath. Wooyoung kisses your forehead, and San squeezes your hand, saying something.

San stands up and sighs, looking at Wooyoung. “Don’t leave her alone like this. I’ll wash the sheets,” he tells him.”

Wooyoung lets you play with the bubbles and soon gently washes your hair. “You’re doing so good,” he says, rinsing out your shampoo. “Our pretty girl,” Wooyoung adds, smiling. “Turn a little to face me, and I will wash off your makeup~” he says, putting the cleanser oil on his hands.

“Okay!” you giggle, turning and closing your eyes.

Wooyoung is gentle as he massages the oil into your skin, singing to you softly. You hum along with the tune, letting him rinse off the oil and use your regular cleanser.

“Are you ready to cuddle?” San asks, coming back into the bathroom and now fully dressed.

“Cuddles~!” you say, nodding immediately.

Wooyoung giggles and unplugs the drain, readying a towel.

“I have your favorite pajamas ready for you,” San says, smiling.

You let out an excited squeak, reaching out to Wooyoung to help you up. He gently grabs your arms, helping you find your footing before beginning to dry you off.

“Will you finish her up?” Wooyoung softly asks San, wrapping you in the towel before picking you up.

“Yeah, go clean yourself up,” San says.

Wooyoung kisses your temple and goes to the bathroom, and San helps you into your pajamas.

“You pretty princess,” he says, pulling on your pink pajamas.

“Mhm, your princess!!” you confirm, nodding.

San smiles, plugging in your hairdryer.

“You are the prettiest princess I have ever seen,” he assures you, brushing your hair before adding essence to it.

“Then you’re my… prince?” you ask, glancing up at San as he picks up the hairdryer.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” San assures you, turning on the hairdryer and drying your hair.

Before San finishes drying your hair, Wooyoung returns and lays on the bed next to you, rubbing your back.

Once finished, San unplugs the hairdryer and turns off the light. Wooyoung pulls you under the covers, holding you in his arms. San joins you, kissing your cheek.

“I love you,” Wooyoung murmurs.

“We love you,” San corrects him, smiling.

540 notes · View notes

ink-the-artist · 3 years

Note

hey Ink! not here to ask you about art you didn't make this time, lol.

I finally did some experimenting with my colored pencils using some of your tips & tricks, and what I did looks pretty cool but HOO BOY did I underestimate how long it would take lmao. I only did like 2 little drawings, no backgrounds, and I started getting frustrated at it taking so long despite having fun doing it.

doing stuff like this will obviously take more time than what I usually do and I feel a bit silly for not realizing that lol. anyway, I was wondering if you had any tips for not getting frustrated, bored, or burned out? there's probably some basic stuff like "take breaks" but I figured I'd ask just in case you had other advice, lol. and maybe I'll be able to build up some drawing stamina too since I don't usually work on the same thing for long.

thanks for making those tutorials/guides btw! the thing about going over your sketch in a color and then erasing the graphite is really neat! fun to try and do more of a lineless style. :)

Oh man yeah, the time it takes to finish something was pretty much the reason I used to not like colored pencil at all for a while and part of what got me past that was just, starting to use less space on a paper. which sounds pretty obvious but my previous experience with colored pencil was having to use it on these big sheets of paper in my art classes and that was TEDIOUS (Ik this is also the reason so many people hate cross-hatching, because they only ever did it on big surfaces when taught it in an art class and they dont realize its not nearly so tedious if you shrink the surface down a bunch) Ik you mentioned that your drawings are little but you could try something even smaller and see if it helps, colored pencil is v good for detailed art so even a smaller drawing can look nice

also what I find most tedious in using colored pencil now is not how long it takes but whenever there's a lot of really boring coloring to do, like if there's a big space thats just one solid color that feels way more tedious to fill in than a space full of detail with different colors and shading etc, even though the second one takes longer. for me at least when the coloring isn't boring I actually enjoy taking the time and getting lost in the details

Try see if whatever you're drawing is actually best to do in colored pencil. if you're doing something with lots of flat color it might not look very different from if you used marker or colored it digitally, and you end up spending more time on it without getting any of the benefits of colored pencil in the end result. and similarly you could see if what you're drawing is best to do ONLY in colored pencil! you can color something with marker or watercolor first and then add all the texture and detail later in colored pencil. this usually really speeds things up and can be especially helpful if you're already comfortable with a different medium that you can just add colored pencil on top of

ok last thing is there's a LOT of different styles and ways of using colored pencil out there and some take much more or much less time than others. most of my colored pencil works posted here are done in a realism style that's more time consuming but some like the more colorful creature art (like Creature Activities or Leaving Milk Out For The Neighbors) have a style that take way less time. I def recommend looking at other artists who use colored pencil and seeing how they go about it because there's lots of different ways to do it! I don't know too many other artists that use a lot of colored pencil but one I really like is @hannahlockillustration ! if anyone else has any recommendations pls comment them

#admittedly i think the most popular colored pencil artists that seem to always go viral are the ones that do hyperrealism #which is often the case with other mediums but I've noticed it way more in colored pencil especially #i think its bc colored pencil is very good for realism the way oil paint is #nothing wrong with hyperrealism it just is admittedly difficult to find other types of art when its in colored pencil #art help

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generallybarzy · 3 years

Text

under twinkling lights.

an: christmas in april? sorry this took so long.. but here’s a little bit of established relationship and soft cute Christmas smut! Its been too long since we had something so sweet and smutty about our fav cute ass couple. It’s all sweet and soft and cute and then it gets filthy... the perfect dynamic, i want what they have. i was only inspired to finish this because of barzys hatty tonight haha, he deserves everything. I didn’t really spell check this yet, just needed to post finally!! Personally, I think its the hottest thing I've ever wrote. Lemme know!!! 💕

tagging: @softboybarzal @fallinallincurls @matbaerzal @npatrickz @canadianheaters @selenophileangel @deleausvp @colecaufields @hockeyhughes11 @nazdaddy @barzysreputation @comphybiscuit @aboveaveragehockeyboys @ifiwasshawnmendesidslapmyself @petey-patty @starswin @heatherawoowoo

word count: 6.5k

You never believed you’d find someone to spend your life with. If anyone told you your holidays would one day be spent cuddling up with your boyfriend of almost two years in the apartment that you had just moved into together earlier that month, you would have told them they were wrong. Flat out wrong. Things as beautiful and destined as that only happened in movies, and you certainly weren’t lucky enough to get something like that. But, now, here you were.

And here was Mat.

Even after two years with Mat, there was still nothing better than spending the evening cuddled up with him on the couch. No matter how many fancy, expensive dinner dates he took you on at upscale restaurants in the city or how many helicopter rides you took together out in B.C. when he was showing you his home, or how much you loved hanging out with his friends and his family and his teammates, nothing was better than cuddles at home. As much time you spent together, you still felt as giddy and comfortable and safe and at-peace as that first time with him. Things didn't simmer down, that spark didn't fade away after a bit like you feared they would. But they became more subtle. You no longer had to ask him to come to the couch to cuddle, you no longer worried that maybe he wouldn't want to. It was a habit, at this point, to fall into his arms at the end of the day just the same as he did with you. You were each other’s safe havens, the place you laid your head to rest. You loved each other, and there was no place you’d rather be than together.

You’d spent the evening baking cookies, decorating the new tree, and wrapping his family member's Christmas gifts- a book his mom had been wanting, along with some of the cookies you'd made and various at-home spa items; hockey memorabilia and classic jerseys for his dad; and some new pieces of technology and the latest eye shadow palette that his sister had been wanting, along with some stupid jokes gifts that he wrapped in duct tape like the annoying older brother he was. Now, after the sunset bared its last light over the horizon and through your window, you lay together in bliss, with the tree twinkling its colorful lights across the room as you and Mat snuggled on the couch under a fluffy blanket, and everything felt right.

"I don't know why we went through all that work to decorate the tree if we're not even spending Christmas here." Mat grumbled playfully, his head on your chest, partially hidden under the blanket.

"Well," your face glowed in a smile as you remembered the flight out to Vancouver you had in a few days. Spending holidays with his family was always your favorite. Your family wasn’t the best, and it wasn’t too healthy to spend your holidays with them, but you always had Mat and his family. They were so welcoming, so kind, and for as many years now as you’d gone as Mat’s girlfriend, they had accepted you like family. "Because this is our home, Mat. It'd be wrong not to decorate it for the first time."

"I don't need a tree for this to feel like home."

“Aww, baby.”

“It’s true.” He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees above you on the couch, bringing his face level with yours. His warm breath hit your lips as he brushed his nose against yours, eyes slipping shut and grinning. “I love you. Always.”

“I love you always too.”

"I'm so glad you're here. I'm so happy we live together, finally."

"I'm glad we live together, too."

Mat snuggled down into your neck, the locks of dark hair that had been growing out lately tickling your face. You reached up to brush them aside and curl your hand around the back of his head, cupping his head against you tenderly . His hair was getting so nice and long, and you knew he’d have to cut it soon, per the team's guidelines, but god, you were gonna cherish it now.

"I actually have something for you, Maty."

"A Christmas present?"

"Well, an early Christmas present." You smiled at the excited look on his boyish face as he leaned back, the lights from the tree highlighting the sparkle in his eye. "You can't open it at your parent's house, so we're gonna do it here instead."

"What is it?"

"Try to figure it out."

He sat up then, his eyes scanning the room for anything that might seem out of the ordinary, anything that might be hidden. He was looking for his present, and you had to hold back a laugh at the sight.

"Maty…"

"No, no, I'll find it."

"Babe…"

"I got this."

"Let me give you a hint, at least." You sat up with him and took his hand in yours and cupped it against your cheek, turning your head to the side to kiss his fingers. He smiled at the touch, melting back into you and tracing his thumb across your skin.

"Alright, gimme the hint."

You pushed his hand down the smooth skin of your neck, the swell of your breasts, down the curve of your waist, and to the hem of his hoodie that swallowed you up. "It's right in front of you, baby."

"For real?" The joy in his eyes was the same you saw the first time you told him you were ready to take that step, almost two years ago now. No matter how many times you were together, he was always just as excited.

“You say that as if we’ve never done this before.”

“It always feels like the first time.”

You glowed and let go of his hand to reach up and cup his face between both of you. His words came so simply and without hesitation that you knew he was sincere. “Aw, Mat…”

“I’m serious.”

“You’re so sweet tonight.”

“Maybe I just really want to lay some love on you.” He hitched his hands under your thighs and tugged you close, lying you back against the couch once again. His hands slid up the soft skin of your tummy and waist, dipping under your shirt momentarily, and causing your breath to hitch in your throat- his hands always managed to do that to you- as you breathed out the words against his lips.

“Maybe I’m gonna let you.”

With one last grin, his face dipped down to yours, locking your lips together in a familiar, electric dance. Soft, gentle lips moving against yours had never felt as good as with any other boyfriends as they do with Mat. His touch was intoxicating, made your mind wander and your heart race flushed your skin and shocked you to the core. Ever since the very first time his hand grazed against yours when he reached out to hold it for the first time, to the first time your bodies connected in passion under the covers, it felt the same. Like fire. Even two years later, he drove you insane, and all you wanted, and frequently achieved, was to drive him insane as well. In the best way possible. Mat broke apart from your lips momentarily to slip the hoodie over your head, revealing his gift. “Fuck…”

Right there, in front of his eyes, your breasts were covered only by a lacy crimson fabric, held together behind a pretty red bow. With each heavy breath of anticipation, your chest was heaving softly before his eyes, and he found himself hypnotized by the gentle rise and fall.

“You like it?"

“Holy shit, you’re hot.”

“So are you.”

His eyes were wide, warm, and gentle, looking over you. He dragged his gaze away from your chest even though you could tell how hard it was, and shook his head. “Not as much as you.”

"Mmm", you took the liberty of taking his hands from where they had frozen beside you and placing them, big and warm, over your chest. "Go ahead, baby."

"No, no, I wanna savor this first."

His mouth dipped down, soft hair tickling your neck as he nibbled at your chest, laying little love bites and kisses along the tender skin. He cupped your boobs and squeezed them around his face, humming in content. You couldn’t help but laugh as he buried his face against you, and you could feel his grin break out against your skin. “Having fun, baby?”

“Oh my god, yes. You’re gorgeous. So soft.”

“Mmhm.” You sighed into his touch as he kissed his way back up your chest.

“Baby.” He spoke softly to get your attention, and your eyes opened lazily to see him, biting his lip and holding the delicate ribbon between two fingers. “Can I?”

“Please.” He gave a gentle tug, and with one last heave of your chest, the lacy bralette fell open, revealing one of Mat’s favorite parts of your body.

“Fucking Christ.”

“Bub, you can’t be swearing like that so close to Christmas.”

“How do you expect me not to when you’re…. God, just so perfect…” You saw the way his eyes glazed over mid-sentence in the colorful lights of the tree, the way his jaw went slack as you arched your chest up towards him. He reached out, slowly, as if worried you were going to disappear if he moved too quickly, and when the large, rough hands curled around the side of your waist and slid up and down, you felt goosebumps pop up along your skin.

“Your fingers are cold.”

“But you love it.” He ran the pad of his thumb over your nipples, watching as they pebbled under his touch in the cold air. “So do I.”

“Warm me up?”

“Always.”

He dipped his head down, his mouth hot and wet along the peaks and valleys of your chest, down your stomach.

His fingers traveled over the familiar layout of your body, colored in soft golden and red and green in the dancing Christmas lights, tracing each recognizable landmark with specific care- every memorized freckle and birthmark he had kissed since your first night together and every dimple in your skin that he cherished, every spot that had his fingerprints imprinted onto like memory foam after so many nights spent holding you tight with everything in him, as if you'd slip away. As if you'd want to. With each inch his hands followed, he found more, there was always more territory to be marked down, jotted down in his brain for future reference. He was always finding something new. Something more to use against you, to use against you in the best way possible, to push you further and further to that blissful end goal.

He made his way down, down, down, until his breath was hot over your lace-covered core, his hand gripping your hips tightly. Mat smiled as your hands found his hair, curling your fingers through a fistful of the dark locks before releasing and smoothing it back into place again. Mat's favorite thing about going down on you, besides the way it pleasured you, was the way your hands felt on his head, massaging and grabbing and twisting and pulling. It was heaven to him, letting you guide him around like that.

“Can I take them off?”

“Hmm.” As much as you wanted him to ravage you right there, with those soft, sultry eyes he was giving you, he was wearing far too many clothes. “You first.”

Mat didn't say anything else before stripping out of his dark crew neck sweater and jumping up off the couch to kick his gray sweats down. His smile was contagious as your gaze dropped from his face, down his bare chest and the little chain you’d gotten him for your anniversary, down towards the tent in his boxers with a silly, excited grin. He laughed. "Not tired of seeing me yet?"

"Never."

"You sure you’re not getting bored of my dick yet?"

"No, baby. Definitely not.” You grinned, the thought of spending the rest of your life with him bouncing around your mind. “Why? Are you getting bored of me?"

"No way." Mat leaned down to lace your fingers together and lock lips. "How could I?"

"How could I get tired of you, Maty?"

Mat hummed. He loved this little play, the little banter, the back and forth. He'd loved it since you first started dating, and he always would. He knew you loved him endlessly, but he played along. "I'm just a hockey player."

"No, you're my hockey player. My boyfriend. My pretty, pretty baby."

Mat settled back down between your legs with a warm smile. "Yeah, I am. So can I take these off now?" He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties. "C'mon, I know how much you love my tongue."

Your thighs squeezed around him at the words. “Fuck, please.”

“Anything for my baby.”

You lifted your hips for him as he tugged the lacy fabric down your thighs with nimble fingers, stopping momentarily after they were off to just look at you. He let out a sigh, his eyes finding yours again with a soft look as you squirmed a bit beneath him- not because you were shy, no, you were long past that point in your relationship, but because you just needed him to do anything to you. Mat had spent the past two years helping you love and appreciate your body, and this, right here in this moment, was the perfect showcase of how much he helped- as he was gazing down at your naked body and the only thing you felt was just the absolute need and desire for his body to move against yours and his warmth to cover you up. No nerves. Only love, and need.

“Shit, you’re gorgeous.”

“I know.”

The lack of hesitation in your reply had Mat bending over you and laughing. “That’s your response?”

“Yeah! I mean, you let me know. You make me feel so confident.”

“Mmhm, good, babygirl.” He scooted back down to lay his head against the soft, naked inside of your thigh gazing up at you through his eyelashes. “I always wanna make you feel good. Physically and mentally.” He turned to lay open-mouthed kisses against your thighs, and any thought of response you may have had dissolved completely as you leaned back and waited for him to do his magic. His hand reached up to cup your heat, just feeling you against his palm for a moment before swiping a long finger through your fold, smiling and raising his eyebrows at you. “Oh? Already so wet for me?”

“Always, baby. You should know this by now.”

“Yeah?” He dipped his fingers at your opening teasingly and his head dipped down to connect his lips with your clit, kissing it gently and watching you squirm. “Ugh, I could fuck you right now if I was in a rush. But you know the foreplay is my favorite part.”

“I know. And you’re so good.”

“Good.”

He went silent then, his tongue wide and wet, licking a long stripe along your slick and gathering the wetness at your clit, giving it soft, kitten licks and wet kisses. He listened intently for every soft sigh that left your lips- music to his ears- and felt every tug on his hair when he flicked his tongue in small circles around that spot like he knew you loved. And the best part was that he knew. You didn’t understand how couples could get tired of each other after years. You didn’t understand how the excitement could flicker away or how they could get tired of each other’s bodies or minds. Never in your relationship with Mat have you felt as excited as now, two years in. The thought that he knew your body inside and out, maybe even better than you did, was just so overwhelming in the best possible way, and the longer you lay there, with Mat’s mouth on you, you couldn’t stop thinking that this is your man.

Mat was lying flat against the long couch, his face between your thighs and his hands holding your legs open for him. His dark hair was a wild mess, and you could see the gentle movements of his lower back and ass and the back of his thighs illuminated golden in the lights, rolling lazily against the couch cushion- covered by a blanket, of course- to provide any friction for his sadly untouched cock.

You hadn’t even noticed the noises dripping from your lips until Mat pulled back, and the lack of feeling his mouth against your core had you whining for him.

“Fuck, I’ll never get over you.”

“Mmmmat.” You hummed his name, dragging out the “M” in the way you knew he loved.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Please keep touching me.”

He sat up, between your thighs, knees digging into the couch, and his bare thighs and torso on display for you. You loved him, all of him, and all of his body. His legs, his abdomen, his chest, his arms… all of it was amazing. Perfect to look at and perfect to touch, to grab, to dig your nails into as he railed you. To ground yourself with. “Baby, you know I love eating you out. But I just gotta see you right now. And talk to you.” His big hand slid up the inside of your thigh, and your breath caught in your throat when he started rubbing soft, small circles against your clit. “So this position will have to do, okay? I promise I’ll spend all day before our flight eating your pussy.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“I hope so. God, this fucking thing. Could eat it for days.” He pushed a single finger inside you, slow and steady, but enough to make you clench around him. His fingers were so much better than yours, just a little longer and a little thicker in a way that had you squirming for more. “So fucking tight and wet. So hot. I’m so lucky to have you.” His free hand left your hip, leaving nothing but cold, empty fingerprints on your skin, and rubbed against the bulge in his dark boxers. You could see how much he was aching, and you were determined to make it better.

“Mat, c’mere.”

“I’m knuckles deep in your pussy, babe, how much closer do you want me?” You laughed at him, rolling your hip down against said finger. How he could be so funny and sexy at the same time was beyond you.

“Lie down with me. I wanna touch you.” You held your arms out for him and scooted to the side, and he obliged quickly, lying on his side between you and the back of the couch and hooking your left leg over his right thigh. His hand dipped back down between your thighs, pressing into you before you could even catch your breath, feeling exhilarated at the much more intimate position. “Oh, fuck, Mat.” You reached out to him, willing and eager to reciprocate the feeling. He drew in a sharp breath at the way your hand rubbed over the thick bulge in his boxers, pulling the waistband down just enough to release him from his cotton prison.

His cock jumped up against his lower belly, stiff and pink and needy for you and only you. Your hand, your mouth, and you could tell by the way Mat’s fingers paused inside you that he was anticipating the moment your fingers wrapped around his length. “Oh, that feels so good. Always does, baby.” And then, as you worked your hand against him, he pumped his long fingers inside you, bringing his other thumb to rub mercilessly at your clit. But still, even with the way he was fucking you on his hand, the most intense part of this moment was the way he held your gaze; the lust, the need, the twinkle of amusement in his hazel eyes at the sheer amazement that he got to do this with you; and the love- the pure, unadulterated love that soaked from his skin to yours, in every touch, in ever moment spent together, every kiss, and every time you laid together, bare and vulnerable, in the heat of passion, under the twinkling lights or in the dark, safe haven of your home to show each other how much you loved each other. His warm eyes glittered in the light, reflecting the gold and green and red lights from the Christmas tree that illuminated the room, and the city lights outside the window of your apartment lit up his body and highlighted every muscle. Your apartment, the one you own together, and the one you knew you were going to make countless memories in. His eyes glittered with love, with the question of “can you believe we still make each other feel so good?” and with the statement “I want to kiss you so bad right now”. Your hand pumped his length, pulling a soft moan from his lips, one that you had used to have to work so hard to hear. “I want to hear you, baby” You had used to say, practically begging him to let himself go as he bit his lip to hold back the moans. It had taken a bit of encouragement, but now he never held back with the sounds that left his pretty mouth. You lay there, vulnerable and exposed to each other, staring into each other’s eyes as with hands between each other's thighs, cheeks pink and hearts full of love as you helped each other climb to that climax.

You broke eye contact first, laughing breathlessly and feeling your cheeks go hot under his gaze. Despite the lack of shame you felt in front of him, he could still get you so flustered and giggly.

“What’s so funny, beautiful?” He asked between shaky breaths.

“You’re so beautiful, Mat. Those moans are so pretty. I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah?” He smiled with another laugh. “I can feel how wet you are. It’s crazy.” He slipped the tip of a third finger into you, your hole aching and pulsing around them already. “Oh, fuck, I love your moans too.” And you could tell he did, as his hips jerked helplessly up into your hand. “Faster, baby.”

“Only if you kiss me.”

Without hesitation, he leaned over and his lips locked onto yours, needy and begging but oh, so willing to go slow and passionate. The hand that had been teasing your clit came up to grab at you face, squeezing a tit on the way up, and you reached a free hand out to tangle in his dark hair as you leaned in and continued to jerk him in your hand- up and down, and up and down, twisting around the head just like he liked. “I love you.” He whispered against your lips, breaking apart for only a moment to look down at you one more time in awe. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, Mat.”

“Fuck, I love you.” His lips crashed back against yours again, his fingers plunging deeper inside you as he kissed his promise into your lips, the promise that he was there and he’d always be there. He was yours. And you were his. Simply that. The heel of his palm rubbed against your clit as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting that wonderful spot and making fireworks twinkle behind your eyes. He groaned into your mouth as your hand curved over the head of his cock, palms getting slick with his pre-cum, and stroked back down to cup his balls gently. He let out a breathy laugh at the tender feeling.

“Baby, look at me.” You cupped his cheeks between your hands and pulled him back when you began to feel your peak rising. He whined when your hand left his cock, aching and hard, and his fingers halted inside of you, cupping his palm against your heat.

“Oh, baby,” His eyes locked on you, making a show of how they were scanning up and down your body. “I’m looking.”

“I need you inside, right now.”

His bottom lip was sucked between his teeth and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the words. Even after so long, he still couldn’t handle hearing those words. His eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck, say less.” He rolled over you to sit upright on the couch, finally pushing his boxers all the way down his thighs and onto the floor. He gripped his cock in his hands and slid between your thighs, bending down over you to kiss your lips. “How do you want it?”

“Just like this.” Your hands fell to his hips and pulled him close.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna see your face. Maybe it’s basic, but I love this position.”

“Yeah. It’s simple, but so intimate. I like it too.” He paused and leaned back for a moment, looking down at his sweatpants on the floor for something. “Shit, ugh, I don’t have a condom here, hold on-”

“No, no, no.” Before Mat could run off to the bedside drawer, you grabbed his hands in yours, pulling him back to you. His eyes went soft and cautious for a few moments.

“No? Babe, shouldn’t we…”

“We’ve had conversations about this, right? About doing it without?” Mat nodded, a little smile beginning to pull on his lips. “I’m still on the pill, and I know I remembered to take all of them recently, so we’re still pretty safe, if you want.”

“Fuck, I want.” He settled back down between your knees. “Are you sure?”

“A hundred percent.”

“Alright.” Mat chuckled in boyish excitement. He reached a hand down between your bodies to adjust himself, nudging the blunt head of his cock against your clit and rubbing his pre-cum along your slit, lining up with your tight entrance and sending sparks through your body. “God, my God, I can’t wait to come inside you. Feel you around me completely. See my cum on you.” One last time, he bent his body down over yours, his weight warm and heavy, the metal of his chain cool between your chests, and pressed his mouth to yours, breathing in your warmth. One of your hands curled around his waist, slid to the small of his back, just like he always did to you, and the other cupped the back of his neck, fingers curling into the hairs and playing with the chain around his neck and pulling him in closer to your face. He broke away slightly with a sigh against your lips, his forehead bumping against yours and his nose nudging yours in a familiar gesture. He didn’t need to say the words anymore, because his quiet affections were ones that you’ve known for a long time.

His question was loud and clear, and your answer was just as obvious.

Mat brought a forearm down next to your head to steady himself, stroking the pad of his thumb against your warm cheek as his hips finally pushed against yours. Hands tightened their grips on each other’s bodies, sliding across hot skin slicked with sweat, and a euphony of moans mingled together in the air at the initial feeling of finally being connected in such a primal way again. His hips were flush against your own, and the weight of his thick cock inside of you was heavy and intoxicating; you could feel his tight abdomen expanding and contracting with every heavy breath and shudder through his body. He let out a long string of moans, his head dipping down to nibble at your throat, and fuck, did you know what he meant. You were connected, everywhere- heart, skin, and mind. “Fuck, oh my God, baby, hot as ever.”

“Oh, Maty…”

“I’m gonna give you so much love, beautiful.”

“Please.”

The first withdrawal of his hips from yours was painstakingly slow, and all you wanted was for him to plunge back in again and again and again. And he intended to do that, in time. Mat loved to take his time, but it didn’t take him long to fulfill his promise, sliding back against you, his cock hard and aching inside your wet cunt. He found a steady, easy pace rolling his hips into yours, each stroke like electricity through your body, long and languid, taking his time to draw your pleasure out, taking the time to feel your body around him. His knee dug into the couch hard, steadying himself and getting more traction so he could pull closer to your body, snapping his hips against yours with slaps that had you both gasping for air.

“Oh fuck…”

“Feels so good, Mat.”

“You’re fucking amazing.” He let out another high-pitched whine and arched your leg over his hip. “More?”

“More, faster, please baby.”

His hips slapped against yours with a groan, his big hands holding behind your knees and opening you wide for him. He leaned back to take a good look at you, at the scene in front of him, trying to take in every image he possibly could. Because these were the best moments. Not only the sex- god, but the sex was good- but just being together, being close, being intimate and so so close, yet only craving to become closer and closer. “God, you’re so hot, babe. So tight, so wet, all for me, right?” When you couldn’t answer, too overwhelmed with the way he was pounding against you, he took it as a sign to keep running his mouth. God, you loved to listen to him talk. “So wet, all for me. Getting all turned on over this big cock inside you, yeah?” You nodded your head enthusiastically, pulling his body closer to yours. He followed without hesitation, down and down until your bodies were glued together and he was just pushing against you, his hips driving yours into the couch cushions. “All fucked up for my cock, are you? Fucking beautiful.”

“It’s so good, Maty, baby, so big, fills me up so good.”

“I love you. I love you, (Y/N).”

“Oh my God, Maty, I love you.”

His mouth locked onto yours, sealing your lips together and swallowing your moans down. Dark locks of his hair shielded your face and tickled your cheeks, and as soon as he inched away to take a deep, shaky breath, your eyes opened up. He steadied himself on strong arms, framing your face, his veins prominent, and you curled a small hand as far around his thick bicep as you could, watching in awe as his head jerked back, throwing his long hair off his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut as he concentrated on pounding against your dripping cunt.

Slowly, his body peeled back off of yours, away, away, and he brought himself up to his knees in front of you. You let your eyes roll slip the long length of his torso, decorated with glittering reflections of gold and red and green, shining off the sheen of his sweat, and you looked from his thick neck, covered in your love-bites, down his chest, down the hard muscles of his abdomen and tummy, and down the V of his hips to the small patch of prickles that rubbed against your clit with every thrust. His thighs were spread open with your legs wrapped ever so gently around his hips, and his cock was stilled, aching inside of you. He shifted around on the couch momentarily, readjusting his knees on the cushions. “Ya know, we’d be a lot more comfortable in our bed than out here.”

“But it’s so pretty out here. All the pretty twinkly lights on you…”

“On me?” He laughed, “Look at yourself, babe. I’m fucking lucky.”

His big hands traced down your cheeks, squeezed down your chest, curled down the curve of your waist and hips, before finally wrapping around the backs of your thighs and pulling you closer, hoisting your legs up, up, and over his shoulders and spreading you wide open in front of him.

“Ooh, Mat…” You giggled a bit as he easily positioned you in the way he wanted, smirking down at you wickedly and rubbing his thumbs up and down the wet slick of your pussy.

“Gonna make you fuckin’ come, babe, my god… you want that?”

“Yeah, yeah, please, Maty.”

“Just a little bit longer, ‘kay?” He rolled his hips against yours again, starting up that steady pace again. His hands held your thighs open, lifting your legs up the length of his torso and locking them over his shoulders, and he never failed to make you seem tiny compared to him. You watched, mesmerized, as his abdomen tensed and hardened and spasmed as he tried to keep himself under control.

“Please.”

“Little… longer.”

With one more low moan, your boyfriend bent closer to you, his chain dangling in your face tauntingly as he got back to pounding away at you, heavy balls slapping against your ass with every erratic movement, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier and his breaths getting deeper. He was so goddamn close to that edge. He could tell you were getting there, too. You’d been on the edge ever since he started pounding you, but now, you were only a few feather light touches away from falling over that edge. And Mat was ready for it, he could barely hold his own seems together, he could barely think about anything except how rock hard he was and how your tits were bouncing so perfectly in rhythm with his hips, the way your eyes were rolling back and the way his cock felt inside you, fully covered in your slick, both your lower halves sticky messes. He was ready to fall apart completely, and ready to help you reach your own. “You look so fucking good taking my dick like this, babygirl. It’s so big, isn’t it? But you just take it so good, yeah? My good, good girl with her perfect fucking pussy, taking that cock so well.” He reached his fingers down to roll his thumb lazily against your clit, ever so gently, but enough to make you fall apart. Your eyes rolled back as you gasped out for him.

“Please, M- Maaaat…”

“Oh, you- you want it, don’t you?” Mat’s words were getting shaky, his sentences choppy. He was so close, so close his mind couldn’t comprehend anything beyond just fucking letting go. “Want your boyfriend’s hot cum filling you up, just flooding that- ugh, that tight little cunt, yeah? My balls emptied inside you? You want that nut so bad, you’re so desperate for it, huh? Tell me, baby. Tell me how you want the love of your life to just… fucking f- flood your pussy.”

“I want it, Mat, I want you to cum, baby.”

His thrusts became erratic, his hand leaving bruises on your thigh and his thumb absolutely torturing your swollen, sensitive clit. He was getting desperate, too. “Where? Where do you want my big fucking load?”

“Cum inside, fuck, fuck, please, Maty-”

“Ohh, gonna fucking nut inside you, babygirl-”

“I’m gonna cuuuum, Mat…”

“Ohhhh, fuuuuuck, oh, oh (Y/N)...!” Mat let out a long, strangled moan, his voice shaking and whiny and breathless in exasperation. His hips stuttered and his thighs trembled beneath him as he nearly collapsed onto you, absolutely flooding your aching, spasming hole with his cum. Your mind went fuzzy and white when you finally felt his stitches come loose, and he finally emptied all of himself- all his hot, gooey warmth- inside of your throbbing cunt. And flood, he did. It felt like the thick ropes of cum were never ending, filling you to the brim, until finally, he was done, his eyes squeezed shut and hair falling into his eyes above you.

Forming sentences would be a miracle at this point, but you reached up to curl a finger around Mat’s chain and yank him down to your face, ushering him to collapse against your body. And he did, eyes glancing open for a moment and lips locking with yours, always thankful to be able to fall onto you after a hard day, after absolutely spending himself. He groaned against your lips and buried his face against your neck, panting against your skin and kissing your neck and breathing in your scent as your hand found it’s rightful place at the back of his neck. After a few moments of stillness, he reached down lazily and let his cock slip out of you, both of you whining and the loss of contact, and you felt a familiar wetness on your tummy as his cum dribbled down the head of his spent cock to fall on your warm skin.

You were silent, panting for a few minutes, just letting your heartbeats steady back to normal and your heads to recover from the dizzying orgasms. Then, a breathless chuckle vibrated through Mat’s chest and into you. “Merry fucking Christmas to us, right?”

“I think that was the hottest thing we’ve ever done, Mat.” Mat hummed in agreement, squeezing you between his arms. “Now you see why we couldn’t do this at your parent’s place?”

“I mean… what’s stopping us?”

“Mat, I know for a fact you can’t keep quiet enough to fuck in your parent’s house.”

“Says the one who was just screaming my name.”

“As if you weren’t moaning mine just as loud.”

“Hmm.” Mat laughed again at the banter, the playful back and forth, and rolled to the side, his back to the back of the couch, and pulled you against his side. “How do you feel, anyway? About… me coming inside? Still feel good about it? Wasn’t too much?”

“No way. I really… really enjoyed that. Everything about that. A lot.”

“Mm, that’s good. So did I.”

“But… I kiiiiiinda feel like we should clean up. It’s starting to feel… sticky, like, everywhere. And not a good sticky.”

“Yeah, how about we take a bath together? A nice warm bath in the lights of the pretty Christmas lights you love so much? How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like heaven, Mat.”

So Mat scooped you up in his arms, his own legs weak and shaky after an unbelievable orgasm, and he pressed kisses against your cheeks as he carried you through your brand new home, lit in the pretty pinks and gold of the Christmas lights, stopping before the bathroom door only momentarily to ponder on the beginning of the rest of his forever with you. This truly might be the beginning of the best years of his life. The beginning of an even more serious relationship with you. He felt your fingers playing with the chain that still hung around his neck, the one the guys teased him about the charm on the end, but the one he always wore for you, and he glanced down, his eyes warm and contemplative as he searched yours. This. This was eternal love.

“I love you, babe. Always.” His heart felt dipped in syrup when you smiled up at him with that soul melting look. Yep. You’re it for me.

“I love you, bubs. Always.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #nhl reader insert #nhl fanfiction #mat barzal fanfiction #mathew barzal #mathew barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #fic #op

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silverrstarrr · 3 years

Text

Hello, today I am starting a Eren x black reader fanfic. And don't worry, yo girl over here is Nigerian😋😋 I do plan to put smut into it but I've never written smut before so please be easy on about that part! (The reader and Eren are both 18, their first year in University.)

Y/n L/n. Daniyah

Dylan. Jason

Yume

Normal Girl<3

Chapter one:

You love the way I pop my top. Or love how I lose my cool

Music was playing in the background on a loud Bluetooth speaker as you were preparing yourself for the day. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you take off your bonnet, your long black box braids flowing down to your hips. Which cost a bitch. You were cleaning up your face and doing a causal face routine. You grabbed your makeup bag from under the bottom cabinet and began applying. Doing your eyebrows, eyeliner, eye shadow, lipgloss. Placing the brown foundation on your skin to cover up the bumps that were on your face, contour and more. You placed your false eyelashes on, ruffling up your hair a bit more. After a good 15 minutes, you were ready for the day.

Or love how I look at you. Say why?

The song Normal girl by SZA continued to play as you hummed to the rhythm of the song. Finishing up laying down your edges, you gave yourself a small smile in the mirror, feeling hella confident in your looks. Even though you were self conscious, you had this thing when you believed you that you're the most ugliest bitch in the world, next thing you're in love with yourself. It was currently 8 am in the morning, class was starting by 8:45.

You wanted to freshen up before you left for school. Your roommate you shared a dorm with was currently out grabbing you guys breakfast. You guys both settled for Dunkin' since their drink prices were reasonable and good unlike starbucks. You left the bathroom and grabbing your bonnet on the way out, switching the light off. You tossed the hair net on your bed as you went over to your dresser.

For your affection, tryna be down. No fighting and no stopping, Stick around

Oh shit, this was your part. You started to sing to yourself, not ACTUALLY singing it but you know, saying the lyrics.

"Wish I was the type of girl you take over to mama! The type of girl, I know my daddy, he'd be proud of. Yeah, be proud of."

You were singing your heart out at this point, who doesn't enjoy SZA?!

Not to mention, you relate so much to the song. Since you weren't America's "normal girl". You didn't have Blue eyes, blonde hair, or white pale skin. You were a beautiful brown skin woman, with black curly hair and brown eyes. Not to mention you had 4c hair. But it wasn't a bad thing in your opinion, you loved your hair because at the end of the day, you knew it was long ass hell.

A bzzt sound came from your dresser, instantly your grabbed your phone and unlocked it. It was your roommate, Yume. Yume was a pale skin girl, with brown eyes and long black hair. She was mixed. Her mother was Japanese and her dad was white. Yume was pretty outgoing and bold, a lot of people on campus knew who she was. She was a party person. She still managed to get decent grades by that, you meant that she crammed at the last second and got a C+ or above. Opening up messages, you read the ones from Yume.

colonizer but times 2🧑🏻‍🦲

Attachment: 1 photo

Look what I gooottt😩❗❗

y/n is funky🧑🏾‍🦱🦷❗

y/n liked a photo

Girl, hurry up and bring the food😭

over here posing with the dunkin' bag, goofy😭😭

colonizer but times 2🧑🏻‍🦲

I KNOW, IM ON MY WAY

I'm getting in the car now, see you later hot melatonin queen, wakanda queen 👸🏾 remember BLM✊🏻❤

y/n is funky🧑🏾‍🦱🦷❗

LMAAAOOO, I HATE YOUUU

GET TF ON DAMN COLONIZER 😕

You began laughing, using your hand to cover your mouth. You left messages and began scrolling through your other social media. First you check snapchat, it was a bunch of your friends and people who added you, leaving hearts under your post story. Since you posted a little selfie. You had on a cute graphic t shirt that hugged your upper body and showed your stomach. You didn't have a flat stomach but a little tummy. You had on faded blue jeans that rested at your hips. Even though you didn't have a flat stomach, your curvy body and a dump trunk made up for it. You had a few necklaces resting on your chest as well with a few rings on your finger.

I wish I was a normal girl, oh my. How do I be? How do I be a lady?

You clicked on instagram. You had a decent 10k followers. You were considered one of those pretty aesthetic pinterest girl, especially because of your outfit ideas. You look through your feed for a bit, then you came across yume's page. You scroll through her post and liked her recent. You checked the comments and all the guys fawning over her, it wasn't anything new but you didn't expect this one person. They left a black heart under their post and yume replied to it. You clicked on the profile just to check if she had a secret lover and she wasn't telling you. The username was "eyeager45". Surprisingly, he had 18k followers.

Normal girl, oh

I wish I was a normal girl.

I'll never be, no, never be uh

This shocked you, not his follower count but the fact your roomie got him commenting hearts?! Nah, you need to find out. You scrolled through his feed, looking at his photos, he didn't have a lot of post. But damn he was fine. He had long brown hair that rested on his shoulders, his eyes were a teal color but you were still stuck deciding if it was blue or green. Most of his photos, he had it tied into a sloppy bun, a few strands stood out flopping over his forehead. Without thinking, your dumbass liked his photo.

"I-" you said. Before you can unlike the photo, yume barges in with breakfast. It was already 8:20, classes were starting.

"There was traffic on the way and since it's rush hour, everyone and their crew was getting coffee."

Yume placed you guys drinks and food on a nearby round table. She quickly ran to the bathroom to pee, closing the door behind her. You placed your phone back on your dresser and went over to grab your drink. You took a sip, It seem like this time yume got your (f/d) correct and not just getting a random flavor she sees on the menu. Opening up the bag, you grab your (f/f) along with the other food that was apart of your meal. You went back over to the dresser to grab your phone, then back to the small table. You sat down on the small couch that was close to the table and started eating.

"Hey! Make sure you got your own shit and not eating mine by mistake" yume was washing her hands in the bathroom.

You nodded your head with a "mmm". You were digging in, eating fast because class was starting soon. Coming out of the bathroom, yume whistled looking at your outfit. She always gassed you up & was your number one fan.

"Look at you~ all cute and shit" she ruffled through the bag, grabbing her donut already taking a bite out of it then her breakfast sandwich as she sat down next to you. Both of you guys were munching as if the food was running away, like slow tf down. You took out your phone to take a quick insta video of your food and yume. She was taking a sip of her drink when you pointed your camera on her, she did a quick deuces, which made both of you laugh a bit. You quickly added it to your story and tagged her. You went back and forth with your drink and food, until it was finish. You still had a some coffee left but the food? Gone.

You and yume shared an apartment together. It was close to the campus and it was cheaper. Dorms costed a load for no reason. Most of the time they had no kitchen and barley any room other than for the beds. You met yume during high-school but you guys weren't that close but still kept in touch. Summer break came around and you guys so happened to have the same job. It was the best summer of your life, you were really greatful for meeting yume. She was also the first to offer you to share an apartment together since you both were attending the same university.

Both of guys were majoring in different things but that was fine. Yume was planning on becoming a nurse while you were in the cosmetic industry. It's been a dream ever since you were young. Grabbing your mother's makeup bag and just smearing it all over your face by the age of twelve. You remember the first time you did your makeup and showed your mom.

She laughed so hard and took you into the bathroom to fix it up. Slowly you started getting better and better at makeup. You had your own YouTube channel by the time but it wasn't a lot of subscribers, about 3k. Now you were 19 and had a 500k subscribers who supported you all the way. Being in the beauty industry on YouTube was a hassel because there was always drama here and there but you were never included. More like a "I just sit back and observe" type shit.

The apartment you guys shared was pretty big. You had your own room and bathroom, the same with yume. Yume parents were wealthy since her mom was a dentist and her dad was a doctor. Yume never made any real friends. They always ended up leeching off of her and her money, one of the main reason she kept distance from you and others during high school but the summer brought you guys together.

It was the beginning of the first semester, you had your first class today. You were excited but that didn't stop the anxiety creeping up your spine. What if you didn't make a good expression, or did some stupid shit and fell.

"Hellllooooo, y/n. You good?"

yume was waving her hand in your face. She was laughing at bit because of your face expression while you were in la-la-land.

You nudged her lightly and giggled back.

"Stoop, leave me alone. I'm just nervous about my first day"

Yume grabbed the empty bags and wrappers that were on the table, walking to the kitchen to threw them away. She had on a cute oversized black sweatshirt with a white collar. It went well with her white tennis skirt and beige color platforms. Yume was 5'6 but looked 5'7. She was really pretty in your opinion. It was surprising she didn't have a boyfriend.

"Girl pleaseee, you'll be fine. You're pretty and you have a cute laugh—who wouldn't fall for you?" Yume continued cheesying. She went over to the doorsteps and grabbed a pair of pair of black air Jordan 1 retros(the high ones). She walked back over and tossed them on the ground next to you.

"You aren't wrong about that...but you know I literally don't know what to say after 'hi'. I don't know how people do it, it gets so awkward after that point."

"Shit...you're right...well since we're in college now, we can ask others about their majors and stuff but I rather not hear about a guy talking about how much he likes the human body system."

Loosing up the laces, you slip your foot in and began tying the strings—you repeated the same process with the other foot. You grabbed your coffee and did a quick stretch before heading over to your dresser. You picked up your phone and keys, your bag was next to the door, you'll grab on your way out.

Yume grabbed her jacket and you did the same.

"How many people do you think we'll be in my class?" She asked

Since she was majoring in nursing. You titled your head up and started to think.

"Maybe around 335 people."

You zipped up your jacket and placed your phone in the pocket. Opening up your airpods, you placed one in your ear.

"Pssshh, that's an underestimate. I think around 400 or more"

Yume opens the door, tossing her bag over her shoulder— you grabbed yours also. Stepping out the apartment, she stood by the side as you locked the door. You pulled your phone out and played your playlist. It was time to start the day.

pt 2

#x reader #attack on titan #eren headcanons #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #anime #eren yeager #eren x black reader #x black reader #aot x black reader #eren jeager x reader #eren aot #eren yeager x y/n

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mimisempai · 3 years

Text

You walked into my life like you had always lived there

Summary

Charles has resigned himself to a life alone in Paris, but he might be surprised by a visit from an "old friend"... Will they get another chance to reach happiness?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31463351

Words:3719 - Chapters:1/1

This morning, like every other morning, sitting on the terrace of the café downstairs from his small apartment, Charles was waiting for his usual coffee while watching the bustle of the street. Delivery men unloading their vans at the grocery store on the corner, the bookstore owner unpacking his shelves, a tourist couple having their picture taken with the view of Montmartre in the background. The passers-by, people going to work, others walking their dogs. All this lively and colorful world coming and going, talking, laughing, reminded him of the hallway of a certain school, in the mornings just before the students entered their classrooms.

And like every morning, Charles was acutely aware of his loneliness. He had voluntarily closed his mind to all other thoughts than his own.

Thoughts that were enough to torment him.

More often than not, they were memories which he forced himself to face. His mistakes, what he should or should not have done. Searching, dissecting when he had lost sight of his values. At what point he had let down those he had sworn to protect since the day he had discovered Raven in his kitchen so many years ago.

But appeasement never came.

At the beginning, Hank gave him news of the school, of the progress of the students, news of each one and then little by little the messages had spaced, Charles put more and more time to answer, letting the distance grow voluntarily. It was now 3 months that he had no news and it was good like that.

Raven, Jean, Alex... and the names of all the others were spinning in his head, like a macabre dance, a torture he was inflicting on himself to atone.

There was only one name that he refused to pronounce, that he refused to think about. The one name that had always been able to read him without having any telepathic powers.

"You're always sorry, Charles. And there's always a speech. But nobody cares anymore."

"Will that be all sir?"

The waitress, pulling him out of his musings, put his coffee on the table.

"Yes, thank you," Charles replied.

"Mutant and proud."

Raven had always been right,

"Or is that only with pretty mutations or invisible ones, like yours. But if you're a freak, better hide."

Mutant yes, but proud he was no longer. He was the freak who had to hide.

He took a sip of his coffee and ran his hand over his face.

He suddenly felt a presence behind his back, and a shiver went through him at the sound of the voice with such familiar inflections,

"How's retirement treating you Charles?"

Erik sat down and placed a small case containing a chess set at his feet. Why was he there? To taunt him? To provoke him? Charles resisted the temptation to read his mind. He clenched his fist on his knee. Erik was the only one to provoke this storm of emotions in him. The only one who had the capacity to unsettle him.

So as always he chose the attack,"What are you doing here, Erik?"

He finally dared to meet Erik's eyes, and he almost gasped, because, in the blue-gray eyes, there was nothing of the harshness, of the disappointment from their last meeting. Erik's gaze was kind and open as he replied with a slight smile, "I came to see an old friend. Fancy a game?"

Erik showed him the chess set at their feet. Their usual chess game, the moment when their minds clashed. That space outside of time, where despite the fights and conflicts, they always managed to find each other. But this time Charles wasn't sure he had the strength to offer Erik a worthy opponent. So he shook his head and replied, "No, not today. Thank you."

He looked away. He couldn't look at Erik when so many emotions were running through him. He was sure he would never see the only man he had ever loved again, and there he was in front of him, beautiful, making Charles even more aware of his own state.

"A long time ago, you saved my life. Then you offered me a home. I'd like to do the same for you."

Charles studied Erik's expression for a long time. Always the same openness and acceptance. He was once again tempted to read Erik's mind.

"You can, you know." Erik made the hand motion that Charles made when he wanted to access someone's mind.

As always he had seen right through Charles, but again no disappointment or disgust in the voice and the eyes.

Charles after swallowing, answered in a slightly hoarse voice, having trouble containing his emotions.

"I don't do that anymore."

Erik simply nodded with a half smile, put his hands in his pockets, then took them out, and held them out in front of him in clenched fists, just like in the old days.

"Just one game. For old times' sake."

Charles gave in, he didn't feel like fighting anymore, he didn't feel like pretending. So he held out his hand to Erik's right fist, which opened to a white pawn.

Erik said with a slight teasing smile, "I'll go easy on you."

Charles replied with the same smile, just a little more hesitant, "No, you won't."

As they set up the pieces, Erik added, "I might surprise you, you know Charles."

Charles stopped his motion as he went to move a knight, and said with emotion in his voice as he stared into Erik's eyes, "You already have."

Time stood still for a moment, neither of them able to take their eyes off the other. Then Charles continued his movement and the game resumed.

The sun was high in the sky when they finished their game. It was Erik who had won. But as always, no matter who won, neither of them cared, the important thing was the duel not the result.

"Well?" inquired Erik as he closed the chess set, "Did you have time to think about my offer?"

"Did you mean it?" Charles hoped Erik couldn't hear the eagerness in his voice, because he really wanted to accept Erik's offer. But did he deserve it? Did he have a right to this home Erik was offering him? And what did a home even mean?

His hand began to tremble slightly, as if he wanted to grasp something, but didn't dare. He closed his eyes to compose himself.

He felt a hand rest on his as Erik's voice said softly, "Charles...". He opened his eyes. Erik's hand opened his clenched fist and intertwined his fingers with his. Charles slowly raised his eyes to Erik's face.

The urge to surrender, to let go, hit Charles even harder. He could see so much in Erik's eyes, but he was so afraid of being disappointed and of disappointing... again. He closed his fingers over Erik's and tried to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat.

Erik continued, "Charles, no demands, no debts, no obligations, this is completely free, I'm just offering you a simple and protected life. It's far from a castle life, but Genosha is a small, isolated island where we have created a self-sufficient community. Most of the inhabitants are like us, "retired" mutants with wounds to heal. You can-"

Charles interrupted him, "It's okay Erik, no need to say any more, I accept. " and after a moment of silence, he added, "Thank you."

Erik simply smiled, put his other hand over their entwined hands and said, "I'm just showing the same generosity that you have shown to me over and over again. No need for gratitude between us. We are just two friends and..."

Erik paused as if he were about to say something else.

"And?" asked Charles, curious about what Erik had stopped himself from saying.

For the first time since the beginning of this meeting, Erik looked a little unsettled before answering, "Nothing... well at least not now."

Charles didn't insist, he knew there was a lot to clear up between them. But now that he had decided to follow Erik to his island, he knew they had time.

"So how do we do this?"

Erik replied as he stood up, "I'll go with you to your flat, you take what you need for a few days, and we'll leave for Genosha. You can get the rest delivered later."

"So soon?"

"Why wait? Do you have obligations here, people to say goodbye to?"

"No!" replied Charles curtly, angry at having been found out once again.

He began to roll his wheelchair quickly toward the entrance of his building. Erik joined him in two strides before putting his hand on his shoulder. Charles felt bad for being so touch starved that this simple touch immediately soothed him.

"Charles, I know what it's like, I've been there. Don't get upset. It wasn't a criticism or a mockery." He squeezed Charles' shoulder before letting his hand fall back.

"I know..." sighed Charles. "Come on."

As they walked through the door of Charles' tiny apartment, sensing that Erik was about to say something, Charles admonished him, "Don't say anything."

Erik waved his hand, as if he were zipping up his mouth without hiding his smile, but finally couldn't help himself.

"My Charles, do you live in that shoebox? I'm disappointed in you! Pretty spartan."

Seeing Charles' dark glare, he pretended to surrender. "Ok, ok, I'm not saying anything more."

Charles muttered, "Liar."

Then they gathered Charles' things and a few hours later they were on their way to Genosha.

__________

Two weeks later, Charles was unpacking the last of the boxes that had just arrived, mostly books. Erik had built him some makeshift shelves. His "residence" like all of Genosha’s, was made of salvaged materials, but Charles didn't mind. Although he had always lived in a certain opulence, he knew how to make do with little.

"Need a hand?"

Erik had just stepped through the curtain that served as a door.

"I'm not saying no."

They hadn't had time to really talk and clear the air between them, but Erik was very thoughtful. Charles was a little insecure, not knowing where he stood. So he decided to just take things as they came. If he was honest with himself, he knew how he felt about Erik. But he wouldn't act, he didn't want to risk breaking the friendship they were rebuilding.

Erik had begun unpacking a box of books.

"Do you have a particular order?"

"No put them on the shelves as they come for now."

So Erik began to put the books away, commenting on some of the titles.

"Oh Charles, Charlotte Brontë really? Jane Eyre as well?"

"Hey Erik, just because you're helping me doesn't mean you have to like what I read."

"Ho Ho! You even marked a page."

Charles remembered, what page and what words he had written in the margin.

"Erik, please put that book away, it doesn't matter."

But he could see from Erik's face that he wasn't about to let go, so he resigned himself and closed his eyes waiting for a reaction, of what kind, he didn't know.

"Charles?"

Charles squeezed his eyes tighter.

"Yes?"

"Is that about me?"

Charles had a small self-deprecating laugh before he replied, "I don't know any other Erik, so yes."

"What do you mean with 'you left Erik and now I'm bleeding'?"

Charles let out a big sigh and put his head in his hands. "This is really embarrassing...it's in relation to the underlined passage that's a little higher up if I remember correctly."

He knew the phrase by heart, because it had resonated in a special way since he'd met Erik, but he hadn't expected the raw emotion that ran through him when he heard Erik read the words aloud.

“I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I’m afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I’d take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you’d forget me.”

Charles heard Erik put the book down, and a sound of footsteps, he still didn't want to open his eyes, he was too afraid of what he would read in Erik's eyes. He was aware of Erik's presence very close to him, then a hand clasped his.

"Charles, please look at me." Erik's voice was almost pleading, Charles didn't resist and opened his eyes, to see that Erik had knelt down to be at his level. Then he looked up at Erik's eyes, afraid of what he would find there, and gasped, Erik looked almost amazed, yes that's right, amazed.

"Charles is that how you still feel?" Erik asked him in an pressing tone, his eyes scanning his, leaving Charles no escape.

Charles swallowed, and despite his tight throat, he tried to answer, "Yes."

"But when... I mean since when?"

"When? Do you remember the day you managed to unlock your power. The day you let me access that memory? Well since that day, I've felt this very strong connection between us."

Erik tightened his grip on his hand and asked, "And those words in the margin?"

Charles' voice was a whisper, "After the missiles and the beach, when you left."

"Oh Charles, I...I'm so sorry." The regret was genuine in Erik's eyes.

"Don't be anymore, it's been a long time since I forgave you and since then I think I've made my share of mistakes and bad decisions. Some of which have more consequences than losing my legs. Raven was right, I had forgotten who I was. Why I started all this in the first place. I lost sight of what was important, I lost... I lost so much. And I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner, and... I'm not as evolved as I thought I was. You say you're sorry Erik, but you don't know how sorry I am. Forgive me I... I must..."

Charles had to go, he had to get out, the grief he had been feeling since he left school, no even before, since Raven's death, it was all threatening to come out, he didn't want to fall apart like that in front of Erik.

But Erik was keeping him from walking away. Still kneeling and holding his hand.

"Erik, please move over... let go of me, I have to get out, I-" the tears were starting to blur his vision, with his free hand he was trying to push his wheelchair forward.

"Charles, stop! You don't have to leave. You don't have to be alone anymore. You are not alone!"

Erik loosened Charles other hand's grip on the wheel, and suddenly took him in his arms, and he felt his lips move against his head and the words came to his ears "Charles, you can let go, even though I've failed you many times in the past, this time I won't. Let it go. Don't be afraid, I'll catch you."

Because Charles no longer had the strength to stay strong, because he was craving for someone to lean on, he let go. He let the grief engulf him, because he knew Erik was there and would keep him from drowning.

Erik continued to hold him and whispered over and over, "That's it, let it all out. I'm here mein Liebster. Let it out."

Once the crying dried up, exhaustion fell on Charles and he fell asleep in Erik's arms. He was sleeping so deeply that Erik had been able to lift him out of his wheelchair without him waking up and now he was lying with his back against Erik's front, his head under his chin and Erik's arms wrapped around Charles.

Erik had been torn when he saw his beloved overwhelmed by grief and wondered how long it had been since Charles had been able to express his pain. He had always been attracted to the shining side of Charles, he often compared them to two sides of the same coin. But when he'd found him in Paris, he'd seen that all that light was like dulled.

"Erik..." the still broken voice Charle continued, "Thank you..."

"Sshh Charles, I told you no thanks are needed between us."

"Yeah..." Erik felt Charles relax against him again.

"Sleep, meine Liebster."

Much later, Erik was awakened by a gentle brushing sensation on his face. He opened his eyes, found himself facing Charles, who was withdrawing his hand as if he had been caught with his hands in the jam jar. Erik grabbed his hand and placed it back on his own cheek.

"Don't stop Charles..."

He saw Charles' expression ease as he gently stroked his face with feather-like touches, tracing Erik's facial lines with his fingertips.

Their faces were so close that Erik immediately caught sight of Charles gulping as a veil of sadness passed over his face.

"What's wrong?"

"I've lost you so many times already," Charles murmured.

"But I'm still here and so are you. Now we're together."

Erik couldn't resist, he crossed the remaining distance between them and put his lips to Charles'. It was as if everything fell into place in their worlds at that moment.

They remained for a long time, joined in a soft and almost innocent embrace.

Charles moved back and stared at Erik, looking for something in his eyes. He must have found what he was looking for because he smiled. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from his face.

His lips parted and he pressed them to Erik's again. Erik licked the corner of his mouth and slid his tongue over his bottom lip, then kissed him. Charles quickly opened up to him, welcoming him wordlessly with his lips and hands in his hair. His tongue mimicked the actions of hers, and soon they were drinking from each other's lips, caught up in a thirst that would not seem to be quenched.

Erik slid his hands to Charles' waist, and pulled him as close as he could get. Charles' head fell back with a moan as Erik’s fingers slipped under his shirt and caressed his back. Erik took advantage of his distraction and lowered his head even further to press himself against his neck. He felt the slide of his tongue against his skin, then his teeth biting the same spot. Charles had a slight startle. His hands slid over Erik's shoulders and his fingers dug in. Erik immediately raised his head, worried about his reaction. "Not good?"

"No. Good. Really good," Charles reassured him in a gentle sigh. Erik smiled fondly and returned his attentions to Charles' neck. But Charles groaned and tugged at his hair, pulling Erik toward him so he could take his lips again.

Much later, as they both caught their breath. Lips to lips, forehead to forehead, Charles asked Erik, "I don't know if I was dreaming or not, but before you called me 'mein liebster', 'my dearest' if I am not mistaken."

For the first time since he had known him, Charles saw Erik's cheeks turn slightly pink. However, Erik's voice was perfectly assured as he replied, "You were not dreaming mein Liebster." He punctuated his words with a tender kiss.

"Unless you prefer, mein Schatz, my treasure." Another kiss.

"Or mein Geliebter, my beloved." Another kiss.

It was now Charles's turn to have slightly red cheeks. But he, too, looked Erik squarely in the eye and asked, "Is that really what I am?"

"Yes, my love and much more." Erik emphasized this with another kiss.

"Since when?"

"I'll show you. By looking into my thoughts in the brightest corner of my sensory memory like you did that time, you will find an additional memory beyond the one you found to help me unlock my powers."

Charles began to protest, "No Erik, I don't want to-"

Erik put a finger over his mouth, "Shhh, I'm asking you to."

He took Charles' hand and placed his fingers against his temple, in the familiar gesture he had when he wanted to access someone's thoughts.

Erik, visibly moved, addressed Charles, "What did you just do to me?"

"I accessed the brightest corner of your memory system. It's a very beautiful memory, Erik. Thank you"

"I didn't know I still had that."

Charles put his hand on his shoulder and said with strength and emotion in his voice, "There's so much more to you than you know. Not just pain and anger. There's good to you, I felt it. And when you can access all that, you'll possess a power no one can match. Not even me."

When Charles exited Erik's head, they were both deeply moved by the strength of the emotions of the shared memory.

Erik pressed his forehead against Charles'.

"What you told me that day, that there was good to me, that you felt it. It's a memory as happy as my mother's. It was also that day that I felt the connection between us. That I knew that-"

Erik paused for a moment.

"That you knew what?"

"That I was hopelessly and madly in love with you. I love you Charles. We've fought together, we've clashed, we've been through terrible trials sometimes together, sometimes against each other, but this, what I feel for you has always been my ultimate truth. I love you Charles."

Charles once again gasped, this time at the open adoration he read on Erik's face.

He raised his hand to his face, tracing the outline of it he said, his voice broken, "Despite all the detours I've taken, all the bad decisions you or I have made, every time, when it counted, you were there by my side, that unchanging presence. I can't tell where you start and where I end. I love you Erik, more than my life."

There. That moment. This moment of perfect communion after all they had been through. The fate, the choices, the events that had separated them, brought them together in a spiral that never seemed to end, it was all over. It was time for them to live. It wasn't the end, it was the beginning. This was their story.

___________

Although I am very familiar with X-men - Movie verse, I have never written for this fandom before. After rewatching Dark Phoenix, I'm only holding onto this ending scene. I wanted to write about Erik and Xavier from there. I hope I did them justice.

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed your reading.

#x men movies #erik lehnsherr #magneto #charles xavier #professor x #cherik #getting together #post Dark Phoenix

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wyvernthekriger · 3 years

Text

Life Beyond Death (1)

Noragami

Author's note: I just switched over to this site from Wattpad and will be revising my old stories and bringing them to this platform. This story started out having a character I created as the main character but decided to change it so it's an X Reader story. This will be written from a female's perspective (I'm female so it's easier, I'm sorry if I have disappointed anyone.)

That being said, if I have missed correcting any "my, I, me" in the story please let me know and I will try my best to fix it. Thank you all and I hope you enjoy this Noragami series.

Index:

S/n: Surname

Y/n: Your name

Content warning: This series will involve scenes and mentions of abuse, death, violence, blood, swearing, fighting and possible angst.

It was the ending to another school day and students were pouring out of the high school to start their spring break. You walked alone to your shoe locker, taking your time as you changed from your school shoes. Your friends Aiko and Miyu walked in just as you were finishing up, whispering something you couldn't quite understand. They quickly stopped when they saw you and smiled, running over.

"Hey, Y/n!" "Hiya, Y/n. What's up?" you gave them a closed-eyed smile and waved "Hey guys. I was just about to go pick Ren up and go home." You tilted your head at them as they gave you a look of sympathy. "Oh, stop looking at me like that, will you guys? She's gotten better. She hasn't had an outburst in almost 2 months. She actually helped me plan Ren's birthday party next weekend, something she hasn't bothered with since my father died."

Aiko and Miyu exchanged wary glances and looked back at you, "Okay, if you say so. Can we walk with you?" You nodded and waited for them to change their shoes. After a few minutes, you all walked out and headed towards your brother's school. You adjusted the strap of your bag and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. "Autumn is my favorite time of the year. You get to see all of the leaves change to beautiful colors just wherever you go." They hummed in agreement and smiled. You opened your eyes and glanced to your side, spotting a paper that was blowing in the wind as it was taped to the wall. "Hmm?" "Y/n, what's wrong?" You realized you stopped walking and looked over at them while pushing the paper flat against the wall, "someone lost their cat...hmm a cat seems like a nice gift for my brother.."

Your voice trailed off as you thought to yourself, tapping your chin as Miyu quickly agreed with your thought. "Oh!" Aiko exclaimed, making both Miyu and you turn towards her, "That's Keiichi's cat, I babysit him. He sure does love that cat. It's almost like Milord is his best friend." You smiled and looked back at the paper, "that's really cute, actually." You thought some more and beamed. "I've made up my mind, I'm getting Ren a cat." Miyu nearly squealed, "I'll be coming over every day now I hope you don't mind." You all laughed at her obsession with cats and continued walking towards the Middle School.

As you were walking you moved behind Aiko and Miyu so others could walk on the sidewalk too. You glanced to your side briefly when you heard a man calling out a name. He was calling out for Milord, assumingly helping Keiichi out. As he passed by his eyes met with yours and the vivid color alone sent a chill up your spine. His face scrunched ever-so-slightly as you made eye contact before his face lit up.

"Milord!!" He yelled out, causing your head to tilt. The man ran out into the street and you saw an oncoming bus approaching and it was like your legs moved on their own. One minute you were standing there and the next you were yelling out, jumping, nearly parallel to the street. "LOOK OUT!" You forced your eyes closed tightly, as tight they could get and felt yourself collide with the man's body, both of you tumbling onto the sidewalk on the opposite side you were originally on. You heard him groan and you struggled to prop yourself up on your elbows. You landed face down on the sidewalk, hitting your head pretty hard on impact.

You let out a wince and finally sat up fully, looking over at the man who was seemingly unharmed, staring at you a bit wide-eyed and curious. "You can see me?" you furrowed your brows as you looked at him, "What? Of course, I can se-" "Y/n!" you hear my friends scream out your name, their voices filled with fear. You froze as you stared at them, "Oh my god, oh my god... Are you okay? What the hell was that?!" Aiko threw herself on the ground next to you and Miyu carefully moved your hair from your face, getting it out of the scrape left behind from the asphalt. "I'm okay, but sir, are you alright?"

Everyone's attention turned towards the ebony-haired man. "Oh I'm so sorry Mr. I didn't even see you there, are you okay too?" Miyu asked, kneeling beside you both. He just nodded and caught your eyes again, "Yes, thank you. I uh....I should...watch where I'm going next time." His voice was very uncertain, almost as if he was confused about why you pushed him out of the way of the bus. You start getting uncomfortable under his stare, so you start to try standing up with the help of your friends. Standing upright so suddenly resulted in a sharp pain lighting up your head. You gripped the side of your head and looked back at the man, "Please be careful next time."

He just nods and stands up, his uncertain gaze still on you, "I will, thank you-" He paused, "S/n Y/n, nice to meet you. And you?" You bowed and he seemed a bit taken back by the extreme respect. "Thank you, Miss S/n. I'm...Yato" You stood up straight and waved your hand slightly. "Just call me Y/n, Yato." Aiko cleared her throat and tugged on your sleeve slightly, "We need to pick up Ren, remember? He isn't going to be happy that you got hurt." You frowned slightly. He gets so worried even though he's the younger sibling. "Right... Take care, Yato. Good luck with catching Milord."

Yato's eyes lit up and a loud gasp escaped his lips. "Seems like he forgot already," You thought to yourself as you brushed off your clothes. He looked at you one last time before quickly running off in the way he was originally going. You all began walking again, Aiko holding one of your arms while Miyu held the other, just in case you became dizzy. Aiko finally spoke up and looked over at you. "So, Y/n, what are you going to wear for the Gion Odori festival tonight?"

I froze and yanked both of them back by accident, "Oh holy Bishamonten save me, I completely forgot about that," dread laced your voice. "It's okay we still have time. We'll get Ren and then go home to get ready and then we'll all go together." Miyu suggested with a large smile. She's absolutely infatuated with seeing the Geishas and finding an excuse to dress in her kimono. You simply nodded and were on your way

It took about 20 minutes to get to Ren's school and another 20 to get back to your house. The entire walk home consisted of Ren bombarding you with questions about the scrape on your forehead, you just told him you tripped while helping someone look for Milord. Aiko and Miyu went their separate ways to get ready for the festival tonight. When you got home your mother was fast asleep so you just told Ren to quietly get dressed. You quickly cleaned your scrape and put a small bandage on it.

You never really knew how to style your hair for these things, so you just pinned your hair back in a low ponytail, just styling it the way you do when you wear your shrine maiden uniform. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, admiring the traditional style you adore so much. You became a maiden to show your loyalty and respect to Bishamonten, the strong God of warriors and protection. He has a shrine near your house, your favorite thing in Kyoto. You hoped that by worshipping and honoring him he would offer you and Ren protection in return. Ren doesn’t know the real reason behind your loyalty to Bishamonten but you do it in hopes that he will protect you, and in turn allow you to protect Ren from your mother.

Once you finish styling your hair, you look around your room, not being able to shake the feeling that you were being followed ever since you left where you saved Yato. You knew it was silly but you had this sinking feeling in your stomach. All you could really think about were Yato's strikingly blue eyes as if they burned holes into your brain. It made you quite uncomfortable in all honesty.

You popped your head into Ren’s room and smiled, his normal angered expression turning soft. You seemed to be the only one to make him truly happy and you never knew if you should feel sad about that or not. "You look really nice. I like when you wear your hair like that" he said in a soft voice, causing a shy smile to form. "Thank you, Ren. You look nice too. Are you warm enough?" He nodded and stood up, putting his shoes on and following you out of the house.

You began to have that feeling of being watched again but you didn’t want Ren noticing you were beginning to seem uncomfortable. "I want a cat.." Ren's sudden statement caught you off guard but took your mind off the unsettling feeling. You had to suppress a smile since you already planned on getting him one. "Is that so?" He hummed in response. "I want a cat that has the same eye color as you. If I get one then it will feel like you're always watching over me, even if you're away. Like when you go away for university." He said it with emotions all mixed in; enthusiasm, sadness, happiness. You smiled wide, locking your arm around his shoulders and pulling him into a side hug. "You're the best little brother a girl can ask for, you know that, right?"

He just flashed a hint of a smile in return. "You're the best sister ever..." He told you softly, leaning into the hug subtly. "Hey, cheer up shorty, I won't be leaving for university for a long time. I'm only in my second year of senior high, okay? Even when I do I'm getting custody over you. I won't leave you alone with mom, I'd have to die first and that's not happening for a very, very long time." His mood seemed to brighten a bit when you flashed him a big toothy smile and let go of him, stopping in front of a bus stop. All of you were supposed to meet here and then walk to the festival together. "Sit down for a bit while we wait, we'll be walking around at the festival for a while." He sat down on the bench and you joined, straightening out your kimono.

You can already tell that tonight is going to be one of the best nights you’ve had in a while. Watching the Geisha dance, eating some yummy food and spending time with your favorite people in this world. What can go wrong?

#noragami #anime #fanfiction #oc #fanfic #yukine #yaboku #yato #noragami aragoto #x reader #character x y/n #character x female

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multi--kpop--fanfics · 3 years

Text

There’s Blood On The Crown

prince!Xiaojun x queen!reader

genre: angst, horror, royalty!AU

warnings: heavy dark themes (blood, major character death, betrayal)

Part of THE CROWN - a collab call by @earth-to-that-asian

Word count: ~1.7k

Author’s note: The fic was beta read by @jaemotel and @intokook , who also made the header (thanxx bby💕). Inspired by the song Intro: Crown by Purple Kiss

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What do you say,

What if I ruled the world?

“Now, you may rise, Your Majesty, Queen Y/N”, the priest announces and you rise from your knees, the diamond crown resting proud but heavy on your head. You walk towards the balcony of the castle and look down, where the rest of the civilians awaited for you. You were their Queen now, the one who would guide them through thick and thin, especially after your beloved husband’s death, the late King Kun.

“All hail the Queen!”, the crowd chants as you raise your hand and wave, the beaming smile on your face acting as a facade, masking your true feelings - uncertainty, sorrow and most importantly, fear.

Fear, because you trusted no one in the council. They never liked you in the first place, not only because you were the late King’s wife, but because you were also a very skilled fighter, one of your most valuable assets, hence why you were the Grand General of your kingdom before getting married to Kun.

These weasels hated seeing a woman in power, simply because they wanted that power for themselves. But none of them had the guts to step up and claim the crown. They only knew how to scheme, bribe and conduct murders without ever getting blood on their hands.

There was only one person you could trust, the only one who truly recognized your strength and dedication to the crown - Prince Xiaojun, Kun’s brother and your brother-in-law. He was the only one who welcomed you with a warm smile and would always be respectful towards you. Everyone in the kingdom knew of his gentle nature and the civilians were always delighted to see the two of you take walks through the town. He treated you like family. And family is always there for you, just like Xiaojun today. You turn your head back and smile at him, an equal smile spreading across his handsome face. However, by the time you have turned your head back, his smile is instantly replaced by a clenched jaw and a stern gaze, burning with hatred and jealousy.

Nobody knows

It means nothing to me

Xiaojun enters the throne room, fully-armored, his sword sheathed on his back and his hunting knives strapped on his sides. You were seated in the throne, your white cape falling gracefully around you, the diamond crown and your silver chest armor shining from the sunlight that is creeping through the colored glass windows. Your image is a sheer contrast to Xiaojun’s, his armor being pitch-black, almost resembling an angel of Death.

“Ah, Xiaojun, what a delight to see you!” you state, smiling to him. “I haven’t seen you wear this armor in a long time. May I ask what’s the occasion?” you ask with curiosity. “I have decided to go hunting” he replies nonchalantly and you smile even wider, unaware of the true meaning behind his words. “That’s wonderful! Perhaps I could join you? I’ve been dying to leave the castle gates and get my blood boiling through some action” you slightly pout, albeitly tired from sitting around and letting your armor and sword get rusty.

He chuckles at your reaction and he unsheathes one of the daggers from his arm and traces his finger along the edge of the blade. “I will not have to leave the castle to go hunting… In fact, my prey is right in this very castle” he states and takes slow yet steady steps towards your direction. “I-I don’t think I follow..” you stutter, fear starting to take over your senses. “What I am trying to say, dear Y/N, is that my true prey is not just within this castle - It’s right in front of me”. The realization then hits you.

It’s invisible but you know it’s mine

So where do you see yourself?

“You want the throne?”, you ask in shock, not wanting to believe that the one person you trusted ever since you stepped your foot in the castle was the one who wanted your fall. “I don’t want just the throne. I want the power that comes along with it”, Xiaojun admits, his ominous gaze fixated on you. The imminent danger awakes you and you yell with all your power towards the throne door.

“GUARDS!” and within seconds, your two strongest guards barge through the throne room, clad in heavy armor. “Prince Xiaojun has attempted murder against the Queen and is hereby guilty of commiting betrayal to the Crown. Seize him at once!” you yell and the guards point their weapons towards Xiaojun, who has seemingly raised his arms in surrender. “The accusations Her Majesty has made against me are completely false!”, he bites back, “Besides, I haven’t attempted murder..”, he adds and silently pulls out another dagger from his sleeve, “..Yet”.

In a split second, he throws the daggers towards the guards and he hits them both in the blind spot of their armor, their cloth-covered necks, the sharp blades of the dagger cutting through the flesh. The guards are now flat on the marble floor, their lives slowly slipping away from their bodies that lay in blood. After recovering his daggers from the dead bodies, Xiaojun hears the familiar sound of a blade being unsheathed. He turns to you and he sees you holding your sword, your cape discarded on the floor, standing a few meters away from him.

“Finally, the queen has stepped down from her throne!” he spits, his voice dripping venom. "The Queen has a crown and she will do everything to protect it. Even if it means killing the prince", you prepare yourself and get into a fighting stance. "How ironic, to share the same goal at a moment like this", Xiaojun points out and unsheathes the sword from his back, "It's a shame you won't be alive to witness my success".

I am running for the crown

I keep breathing when you drown

You charge at Xiaojun with full speed, your sword in a secure hold. He throws a dagger at you to cut off your advance, but you duck down in the last second and you avoid it, closing the distance between you in the meantime. You fling your sword upwards, in an attempt to cut through his waist armor, but he is fast enough to parry your attack with his own sword. "You're fast, I'll give you that. But not fast enough", he mocks and pulls another dagger from his thigh, landing a deep cut on your forearm, making you cry out in pain.

The blood is staining your pristine blouse, but you don't care - you only want to stay alive in order to defeat Xiaojun. You kick his knee with full force and he groans, falling on his knees. "You know better than underestimating my skills, Xiaojun", you hatefully spit back and get up. You switch your blade to your intact arm and swing it towards his face, but he raises his arm and catches the blade mid-air. "I don't - I'm just reminding you how inferior your skills are compared to mine" he replies and holds the blade still, his fist now bleeding from the sharp edge. "You haven't even landed a proper cut on me, yet your arm is still bleeding from a mere dagger", he continues and stands on his feet, twisting his arm and the blade as well.

You grit your teeth as you fight back the pain from your own arm being twisted and you lift your leg to kick him in the face, but alas, he's fast enough to swing his sword again and land another cut on you, this time on your leg. You feel the muscle joints being ripped apart and you scream once again, the blood gushing from the fresh wound. Xiaojun takes advantage of your vulnerable state and pulls the sword out of your grasp and throws it at the other side of the throne room. He then kicks you on the chest and you fall flat on your back, the diamond crown falling from your head. You try to stand your ground, but Xiaojun immobilizes you with his own body.

"It's truly a pity, Y/N. We could have been the most powerful and loved royals in the world… But you just had to fall in love with the fool of my late brother, didn't you?", he asks and caresses your cheek, the pretentious affection making you scrunch your face with disgust. "You will never be like Kun, you monster" you grit your teeth with anger, "Do you know why? Because he was always faithful to the people. Because the people are the true crown-"

You never get to finish your sentence, as a dagger is piercing your throat, ridding you incapable of breathing. The stream of blood starts pooling around your spasming body, staining the marble floor, your clothes and the diamond crown that lays next to your head.

I believe myself no doubt

Xiaojun watches your last moments with a blank expression on his face, still on top of you. "Ironic, isn't it? The King and his Queen, dying by the same hand, clad in the same armor. Truly, the most perfect of tragic endings". You are unable to answer, the last of his words dealing the finishing blow to your form. You have stopped moving and a single tear falls from his face. "Even in death, you are still the most beautiful woman I've seen in my whole life, Y/N" he whispers and leans in to kiss your now lifeless lips. "Worry not, my love, you may meet your beloved husband now. The crown is in good hands".

He stands up and takes the blood-stained crown in his hands. He places it on top of his head, the blood dripping on his soft blonde locks. He slowly walks towards the throne, the edge of his sword scraping the marble floor and creating a line from the blood on it - your blood. He looks at the painting that rests above the throne, a painting of you and King Kun smiling fondly, wearing the same crown that now rests on Xiaojun's head.

"You know, both of you were wrong. I never betrayed the crown. In fact, I was the only one who did everything to protect it", he speaks as he sits down on the throne, "And I succeeded, my beloved family. All thanks to you. You may now rest in peace", Xiaojun says with a soft smile on his face, making him look like an angel.

An angel of Death.

My Lord

How come I never lost my faith?

#xiaojun angst #wayv xiaojun #xiao dejun #royalty au #wayv angst #horror #the crown: a collab call #wayv fanfics

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farfromsugafanfic · 3 years

Text

Sutures - Chapter 12: Cardioplegia

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): mentions of family member death, medical procedures, ANGST, hospitalization, references to memory loss

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Note: Before y’all demand my head on a stick for this ending, please note that there is an epilogue and bonus part still to come.

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

"Min Yoongi? Jang Sumi?" the doctor asked, carrying a clipboard in his hand. "So, I hear you have some concerns you need to discuss with me?"

You recognized the doctor from when you'd ended up in the hospital after the night you met Yoongi. He seemed to be the only soulmate bonding specialist in the whole city and your stomach turned. You wanted your needles.

"Yes," Yoongi said. "You see, an urgent family matter has come up for Sumi and she has to fly to the US as soon as possible." The doctor nodded. "The issue is that due to my schedule, I can't go with her. I know you said there were exemptions for work, do you think this would cover that?"

"It's hard to know," the doctor said. "It's possible you would have no problems as the conflict involves your work. But, for Sumi, there's nothing obligating her beyond the love for her family. I fear it would be risky. We wouldn't know until Sumi is on the plane and if you both have a reaction, it's likely Sumi wouldn't be able to get to a hospital in time."

"Then, no," Yoongi said. "What are the other options?"

"Wait," you said, touching Yoongi's bicep lightly. "What are the chances I have a reaction on the plane?"

"I'd say a 70% chance you react, 30% you don't. If it'd been over a year since you'd met, it would probably be 50/50. As the years go by, reactions become less likely. At least in the limited experience and research, we have from soulmate couples. Every couple is different."

"I'm willing to take the chance. Maybe we could hire a doctor to fly with me--"

Yoongi's hand shot to grip your thigh cutting off your words as your jeans rubbed against your skin where his fingertips touched. Even with the fabric between his skin and yours, it still felt like sitting too close to a fire. The sparks flying just over your head.

The doctor arched his eyebrow. "There aren't a ton of options. We are researching drugs right now to help curb reactions in situations like this, but since the reactions are individualized in some ways, it makes it hard to develop one drug that will work for all."

"I can come with you," Yoongi said, "It's the only option." You saw in the way his lips were in a slight frown that his thoughts were racing. His voice quieted. "And you'll need me."

"Yoongi, I-I don't know how long I'm going stay. You can't stay forever and I might."

Yoongi's eyebrows rose as his lips fell into a frown. "You want to stay?"

You felt the atmosphere lose color. The vibrant scene slowly turning black and white. Yoongi's hand still rested on your leg like it belonged there.

"I could teach Korean. Do translation work. I don't know. But, I miss my family and knowing things can happen so quickly and I could lose them, I just..." Unlike all the other times, there were no tears. You couldn't cry over this. You wanted to cry, grab the closest objects and fling them at the wall until they dented it, or at least chipped the paint. You wanted to grab Yoongi and kiss him, tear off his shirt, pull on his hair. But you couldn't. The only thing you could do was sit and listen to the doctor say you had to choose.

"Can we talk about this privately?"

"Before you make any decisions," the doctor said. "I should inform you that we have been working on an experimental cure. We haven't tested it on any human subjects yet, but we could use you if you consent. We can't guarantee it will work, but if it does, it would solve your problems. We don't know what side effects would be, but we would keep you for 24 hours for monitoring."

"Is it safe?"

"We believe it is. We've done animal trials and while they don't have soulmate connections like you do, they have not shown any side effects that we're concerned about." The doctor stood up to leave. "I'll give you some time. I know this isn't an easy decision, so take your time."

Once the door closed, you and Yoongi turned towards each other, your knees knocking together. His hands found yours, but you felt his gaze on your face which was angled downward, your eyes focusing on the way his thumb moved slowly over your knuckles.

"Yoongi, I don't know what to do. I need to see my grandma. I wish this wasn't so complicated and I'm scared cause what if the cure doesn't work or it gives us weird side effects. I mean, technically we could die. Yoongi, what do I do? I'm gonna lose my grandma. I-I don't want to lose you too."

"Hey, hey," he said, letting go of your heads and pulling you into his chest. You heard his heart beating against your ear and how his fingers shook slightly as he ran them over your hair. "It's going to be okay. Let's just think about this."

He was silent for a few moments. You didn't even hear the doctors and nurses rushing past the room or the beat of your hearts.

"We were working to sever this anyway. We won't lose each other. I'll still be here for you. You can still call or visit. I'm just concerned if something bad happens with the cure. Are you willing to risk everything for your grandmother?"

"Yes, of course."

“Then, we'll try it. I want you to be happy, Sumi. I want you to be able to see your grandmother, okay?"

You nodded. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"If it's what you want, then I'm sure."

"Yoongi, I'm sorry. I know you--"

"Shh," he said, smoothing down your hair and bunching it up and curling it around his fingers. "Let's just enjoy this last moment, yeah?"

You burrowed into Yoongi's chest. You would truly miss his warmth, the way his heart beat in time with yours, how he noticed when you were anxious, and handed you your needles. You weren't sure someone like him would ever walk into your life again. And here you were, allowing him to walk out.

---

"Thanks for coming," the doctor said, nodding towards Namjoon and Eunji who stood off to the side, sharing furrowed brows and concerned glances between you and Yoongi. "Since we don't exactly know what state they'll be in after this we want to make sure they have someone to look after them after."

While the doctor continued explaining worrisome symptoms and aftercare protocol, Yoongi turned towards you and grabbed your hand, slipping a folded piece of paper into it. You flashed him an odd look before pulling your hand away and unfolding the paper, finding a plane ticket to Los Angeles.

"I've made the arrangements. If you miss that flight, I'll get you on the next."

"Yoongi, you didn't--"

"Yeah, I did. Now, you don't have to worry, okay?

The doctor finished talking to Namjoon and Eunji and turned towards you. "Are you ready? We need to induce a reaction for this to work, so I've made arrangements for one of you to receive the treatment at another hospital nearby. Which one--"

"I'll go." Yoongi got off the bed and met your eyes. You'd already said goodbye, but it didn't feel like enough. There was a chance one or both of you could die. That it wouldn't work at all. There was an even greater chance that it would work and all the things you felt for the man in front of you would dissipate like fog in the afternoon.

You'd miss the way you longed to run your hands through his hair. How your stomach flipped when he smiled at you or the way you felt his touch linger long after he pulled away. The way he could calm you with just a look or how he allowed you to fiddle with his fingers when you didn't have your needles.

"Bye, Sumi. Call me whenever you need to, okay?"

You nodded and clasped your hands together tightly. He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to your forehead and left the room before he could look back.

Namjoon met your eyes and offered a sad smile. "Take care, Sumi."

"You too, Namjoon."

Namjoon followed after Yoongi and it was just you, Eunji, and the doctor. "Once her symptoms begin, we'll administer the cure. We'll then just monitor her for any reaction and go from there."

Ten minutes later, it started. You felt the tightness in your chest, sweat pricking at your hairline, and your legs were restless, wanting to move wherever Yoongi was.

"Eunji, hold her hands, help keep her still."

Eunji was hesitant, but she walked over and held your arms flat against the bed. "It's gonna be okay, Sumi. Just breathe, okay? Just keep breathing."

You flinched as you felt the needle in your arm and fluid spilling into your bloodstream. It was hot--not hot enough to burn--but almost. Your heart slowed, but your breathing didn't catch up.

"Sumi, how are you feeling? Are you okay?" the doctor asked. You could vaguely make out the two figures hovering over you. Your vision went black around the edges and your legs went numb. You felt yourself falling and the two figures became smaller and smaller.

---

You woke up. White sheets surrounded you and the room was dark except for the light peeking in from the hallway outside. You heard Eunji in the hallway. It sounded like she was talking on the phone as you didn't hear another voice.

"What do you mean, Namjoon?" Her voice sounded distressed. Worried.

You glanced down at the IV in your arm. Your head hurt and you couldn't remember why you were here or how you got there. How long had you been here?

"He-he's okay, though? I mean, other than--"

Eunji's voice was now hushed. You strained to hear, but the machines connected to you began to beep. Eunji rushed back into the room, flipping on the light.

"Sumi!" Before you could blink she had her head pressed to your chest and was hugging you the best she could without disturbing all the needles and cords attached to your body. "When you passed out I thought you were going to die and I didn't know what was going to do without my best friend."

"Eunji--what--what happened? Who's Namjoon?"

Eunji's face fell. "Oh, uh, that's not important. Let me get the doctor."

---

The doctor examined you. His eyes caught yours, a sad look crossing over them momentarily before he pulled away.

“You seem perfectly healthy," he said. "I'm going to discharge you, but if you start having odd symptoms of any kind get to an emergency room. Okay?"

You nodded, not fully understanding. "Wait, how long has it been? How long have I been here?"

"It's only been a few hours, why?"

"My grandma," you said. "I need to get to the airport and get a ticket and--"

Eunji reached into her purse and pulled out a slip of paper. "You have a ticket. The flight's in a few hours. If you hurry you can make it. I'll send your stuff along later."

"You didn't buy this, did you?"

"No, Yoo--you really don't remember?"

"Eunji, what aren't you telling me?"

Your friend glanced over at the doctor who mouthed something you couldn't make out.

"It's not important right now," Eunji said. "Come on, you need to get to the airport if you want to get to the airport on time."

---

"I'll miss you," you said, pulling Eunji in for a hug. "I'll call you when I can."

"Take it easy, okay? You just got out of the hospital."

"I still don't remember what happened, Eunji. Why can't just tell me? Was it an accident? I must've hit my head."

"The doctor thinks it'd be too stressful on you right now. Maybe I'll tell you someday, okay? Just go be with your grandma."

You nodded, even though you overflowed with questions, something made you feel at peace as you stepped onto the plane and into your window seat. Normally, this is when you'd begin feeling sick. You settled into your seat and pulled your flannel closer around you. You didn't remember owning a flannel with the sleeves cut off. It must be one of Minki's old ones that you'd stolen, but for some reason, it kept you calm as the plane rocketed off the runway and into the air.

THE END

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stardustinthesky · 3 years

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empty skies. farscape. aeryn sun. they say that blood washes away well. they lied.

muse-ic: empty skies by MYSTXRIVL feat. enjoii

read on ao3 or under the cut

They say that blood washes away well.

They lied.

She's seen death up close before, both on the giving and receiving end of it; watching explosions from inside the safety of her prowler, the weight of her pulse pistol and a steady hand, the familiarity of it all.

But not a knife.

A knife is messy and blood splatters all over the place, and it will ruin clothes and get into your hair—

I wanted this, she tells herself as she watches the blood swirl down the shower drain. I won the coin toss.

(except nobody really won anything.)

She could have stayed, but she wanted the choice, wanted to have the different options even if she didn't really know what to do with them. How do you go on with your life, with the man you love, when you're grieving him, and yet he's still here? When you can barely look at him and yet yearn for his touch?

So she does what she knows best when she's under attack and cornered: retreat and regroup.

(but it didn't work so well for her in the past, did it? She pushed him away and almost lost him; let him in and he died.

But he's very much alive and it would be easier if he wasn't John Crichton, but he is, and she loves John Crichton and that's always been the problem, hasn't it?)

Guarantee you won't die in my arms again.

She can't let that happen, again.

(so she leaves.)

She looks at her flat stomach, then the pulse pistol in her hand. How could she give birth to another life, when she takes so many of them? How could she ever be a good mother to her child?

She's not even sure who the father is.

There's a part of herself that hates the status quo. It would have been so easy to ask for a DNA test on the command carrier — John was the only non-Sebacean male, the only male period, she'd been with ever since she'd been deemed irreversibly contaminated — but not knowing had made it easier to leave.

(she thought that, the further she'd go, the pain would finally go away; but his absence only amplifies it.)

"I'm not really good with makeup," she tells Kevia, the other female Sebacean of the group.

Don't worry, I'll show you, and she does.

She uses too many products and colors, tries different things until it's just right. (but it isn't right.)

Look at you, you're so pretty, she says when she's finished. Her smile is radiant, so unlike her when they're on the job, maybe the most ruthless of them all.

Aeryn looks in the mirror and barely recognizes herself.

(and maybe that's for the best.)

There's Lechna, and under different circumstances, she would have liked him. They work well together, and he's always a comforting sight whenever they're on a job.

He makes his intentions clear; she makes hers clearer.

"What happened to you?" he asks one day. He knows the story behind her ex-Peacekeeper status, heard the rumors about Moya and its crew, only smirked when she mentioned being deemed irreversibly contaminated, You must have done something right for that.

"What do you mean?" The fellip nectar turns her stomach. She really shouldn't drink that, normally wouldn't ever since she found out about the pregnancy; but tonight, she longs for a night that feels so long ago, when things were simpler yet terribly frightening. When the only sounds where of the rain pelting on the roof above them and his breath against her ear.

"You don't spend that many cycles on the run and suddenly decide you'd rather join us?"

How do you explain that you watched the love of your life die, and yet they're very much alive? "I lost someone," and leaves it at that.

He doesn't ask for more, doesn't bother to learn more about her after that; his interest was never about the connection and was always about the sex. Releasing the tension would have been easier in the past, a good frell to get it over with, now she has Crichton's mark to bear, had for a long time, even if she's the only one to see it.

After Velorek, she'd promised to herself, never again.

What a frelling liar.

She'd like to say that weekens turn into a quarter of a cycle in the blink of an eye, but she'd be lying about that.

Solar days stretch as long on some rundown planet as they do on Moya. A contract requires planning and mostly waiting for the right occasion; she has a lot of time to think.

Doesn't make it easier, though.

She doesn't dream, but she wonders, sometimes, about finally coming back, seeing his face again. Would he be happy to see her? Would he want her back? She thought that, by leaving, she would have the choice. Now? She's not so sure.

Still, she imagines what her child would look like, dares hoping that they would be a hybrid, wishes for them to be John's.

Not knowing becomes a suffocating thought, but this is something she has brought upon herself; she wants to let fate decide and yet it doesn't come soon enough.

He's going to hate her for this; she has to admit that she won't blame him one bit.

She's planetside, during equinox time. The sun shines brightly, the air is warm, just enough to be uncomfortable. On the other side of the square, the doors of the Governing Hall open and the Prime Lukythian steps out to greet the masses gathered to honor their Great Leader.

Turning her face to the blue skies overhead, she longs for the coldness of rain. (the warmth of his touch.)

Maybe it's time to go home.

—end

#farscape #aeryn sun #john x aeryn #mine: fanfic #otp: beyond hope #listen i have a lot of feelings about aeryn and her time away from moya and co #like #SO MANY FEELINGS #also:#this is completely unbeta'd as usual so bear with me

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fantasy-anatomy-analyst · 3 years

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TMNT 2014 design critique

Someone asked me to look at the TMNT 2014 movie designs, and since I'm finally done moving to my new place, I have time to tackle this in detail now haha. Sorry for the disappearance there.

Disclaimer: I know very very little about TMNT and I have never actually watched this movie. Now let's look at the design of these turtles.

(image description: A movie poster style image of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles from their 2014 live action movie. From left to right, the poster labels them: "Donatello, Raphael, Leonardo, Michaelangelo." They are all turtle people with very round heads, color coded cloth masks, and humanoid bodies. End description.)

In still shots like this, they certainly are not the most terrible designs I have ever seen, but I still don't like them for a number of reasons. Reason number one is how they take cartoon characters and just make them a mess of realistic textures. (with a lot of added muscle.) Like the heads. not much has been done to alter the actual head shape from the weird dumpling shape they have in their basic cartoon forms, their belly shells are intentionally shaped like pectorals and abs, and their back shells look like weird backpacks. In cartoon form, this is fine. In a realistic cgi, with all the extra muscle and mottled skin textures and over-humanized non-human features, and the messy clothing/accessories, it just looks bad. Here is a close up of their faces:

(image description: a screenshot of the movie, showing the four turtles standing close together as one of them appears to be speaking and gesturing with his hands. end description.)

I have noticed as I looked at screenshots, that their face shapes change by angle in some odd ways. Sometimes they look more turtle-ish, like the full side profile on Donatello's face here making him look a bit more like a sea turtle. But other times they look awkwardly human, with more prominent nose shapes, and in particular here we can see some very very human lips and teeth on Michelangelo. I'm white, so take this with a grain of salt, but something about the way their lips have been done often makes them look a bit like caricatures of black people?? That seems questionable at the very least? I haven't watched the movie, so I have no idea if it's just an unfortunate visual coincidence or if they all get black-coded throughout the movie. Not a great choice there, I think. I can't comment much about it though, since I am unaware of the full context.

What I am fairly certain of, is that I've read other posts saying that the origin story of these turtle dudes is that they were just normal turtles who got mutated into humanoids, right? Not humans that got turned into turtle creatures? And I know the cartoon versions have vaguely humanoid teeth, but in a realistic live action I think you should go more into the real animal design. Turtles and tortoises do not have teeth! They have beak-like mouths. And their shells are not so divided, they close up along the sides rather than being open-sided like these designs have it. Turtle spines are attached to the inside of the shell, as seen here:

(image description: the first image shows simple drawings of various real turtle faces up close, demonstrating their beak-like mouths and flat noses. The second image shows simple drawings of turtle shell anatomy. At the top is a cross-section of a turtle skeleton, displaying how the shell meets at the sides and has the spine fused to the top of it. Below that are drawings of the top and bottom of the shell, which are named the carapace and plastron respectively. end description.)

I know you have to make a lot of anatomical compromises turning turtles into active bipedal humanoids with ninja skills, and that they were trying to stay somewhat accurate to the cartoon designs. But I do think they could have done better and leaned more into real turtle forms instead of awkwardly proportioned humanoid turtle people with body builder muscles and dumpling heads and uncanny lips. So here is a comparison between the movie designs and a real turtle, as well as my personal redesign:

(image description: the first image shows simple profile drawings of a real turtle and a tmnt 2014 character without all the accessories. This drawing makes it clear how detached the shell looks on the movie designs, as well as how squat and small the neck and head look in comparison to the body. The second image is a simple redesign. The shell is now fully connected to the body and fused at the sides, the legs are more squat and the arms are smaller. I have added a short tail, extra fingers because turtles do have five toes, and gave the head a beak-like mouth. End description.)

Maybe still not a perfect design for realistic cgi, but I'm not a 3d cgi artist and none of the movie images I could find would lend themselves well to an easy edit. Still, I hope my design would be able to avoid the uncanny valley if it were translated into cgi haha. I think people should just stop trying to make very cartoony designs into live action, it does tend to land face-first in the uncanny valley and that's not great. It could be done intentionally I think, but using the uncanny valley on purpose for your heroic protagonists seems like a weird choice.

Anyway, that's my thoughts on that. Now I'll go finish the creature designs for my profile picture change and find some other projects to start haha.

#tmnt 2014 #tmnt #anatomy critique #my designs #image description #accessible images #superheroes

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ethereal-not-occult · 3 years

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patience and the mulberry

"With time and patience, the mulberry leaf becomes a silk gown."

Fandom: Good Omens Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Fluff and Angst, Character(s) of Color, Sericulture, silkworms, past religious trauma, but nothing bad happens in this fic I promise, mixed bookverse w/ TV elements, references to Chinese culture Notes: Originally written for the @goodomensfashionzine !

“I'll only be a minute, dear.” Aziraphale kissed Crowley's cheek as he opened the door of the Bentley. “You don't have to see me to the door if you don't want to.”

Crowley tightened his grip on the wheel. “Sure, angel. Sounds good to me.” The sibilants slid far too quickly past his clenched jaw, and he bit his tongue to stop the instinctive hiss from escaping.

Aziraphale gave him a sympathetic look, but shut the Bentley's door behind him and soon disappeared through the doors of the church. Once he was out of sight, Crowley slumped forward slightly, sliding his sunglasses up and rubbing at his eyes. A few deep breaths later, and he felt composed enough to exit the Bentley himself in blatant disregard for the “NO PARKING” sign on the curb.¹

[¹ Given his new job position (or lack thereof), lawbreaking was no longer a necessity, but old habits die hard.]

The bright afternoon sun made him wince a bit, and two robins in a nearby bush were getting frisky in a way he would never be able to unhear, but they made it easier to forget the distant wail of air sirens. Even standing out on the road, Crowley's skin prickled faintly with the remembered sting of consecrated ground.

He pushed the feeling aside and walked resolutely forward. Aziraphale was bound to take his sweet time as he mooned over the church's dusty old tomes, but Crowley had his own investigations to conduct while he waited. No rest for the wicked and all that.

The concrete pavement under his snakeskin shoes gave way to grass, and the tingling sensation in his soles faded. Soon he found himself at his intended destination—an Edenic grove of mulberry trees, clustered together in a ring in the church's backyard. He'd spotted them on the drive over and couldn't resist the temptation of a closer look.

Crowley wandered into the garden with a scrutinizing eye. They were young, for trees, but growing well despite their callowness. A particularly stocky sapling hardly flinched when Crowley gave it a token glare, much to his disappointment. Then again, outdoor plants were rarely as well-behaved as properly cowed houseplants. It seemed this attitude persisted even in ecclesiastic gardens such as these.

He cast a surreptitious glance over his shoulder, then reached a hand up into the tree's umbrella-like branches and tugged. The season wasn't quite right for fruits, but he still withdrew clutching a handful of dark ripe mulberries. Hardly apples, but his lips twitched upwards nonetheless. He plucked a berry from the pile and raised it to his lips.

“Zaoshang hao!”

Only a hasty miracle saved Crowley from choking as he jumped and swiveled around. Hovering right outside the churchyard was a middle-aged human, well-dressed and smiling pleasantly at him. Judging by her formal clothing and the Bible she carried, she was a part of the congregation, maybe even the priest herself. Crowley swallowed and stepped backwards.

“Ni shi jiaohui de xinshou ma?” the human called again, picking her way across the dewy grass in his direction. Crowley eyed the Bible she held, willing himself not to break out into hives.

“Um. Wo bu—er, no. I'm not new. Not here for church at all, actually.” He fidgeted and clasped his hands, still full of pilfered mulberries, behind his back. “Just waiting for someone.”

The human raised an eyebrow. “You're welcome to wait inside, if you like,” she said, also switching to English. “I reckon we still have biscuits left from the children's morning service—”

“No!” Crowley said too quickly, and perhaps too sharply. He winced. “I mean. That won't be necessary. I'd much rather stay out here, if it isn't too much trouble.”

The human gave him a Look. Crowley's cheeks heated and he averted his eyes, willing his sunglasses a few shades darker.

“Beautiful, aren't they?”

Crowley's head shot back up. The human had turned her back to him and was running a hand through the glossy green leaves of the nearest mulberry tree. Crowley could practically see the branches stretch out in delight beneath her touch, like a purring cat.

“Volunteers from our congregation take care of them,” the human continued, smiling at the young tree. “The kids here like raising silkworms, you see, and we welcome them to pick leaves from the trees each week to feed them.”

Silkworms. Of course. Despite himself, a hazy memory rose to the forefront of his mind: Sichuan, China, several hundreds of years ago. A family farm, weathered and cozy and oozing enough sheer goodness to make the average demon ill with it. Crowley wouldn't normally be caught dead in such a place, but he had owed a favour to the angel. His fingers twitched at the phantom memory of butter-soft silk fibres against his skin; long, winding threads that stretched out thin and fine, tangling so easily around his uncertain fingers. With this memory came the golden, moon-round face of a child he hadn't thought about in centuries, grinning toothily as they held out a box to him, a box filled with small pale larvae that wriggled among the spade-shaped leaves. “Zhe jiao can.”

Crowley forced himself to return to the present. The human was speaking to him.

“—waiting on Mr. Fell?” she asked.

Crowley blinked. Shook himself a little. “Yeah. He's helping out with the restoration of some old manuscript or other.”

The human smiled again. It was an unnervingly piercing expression. “I'm aware. I was the one who requested his help. Such a lovely man. Are you a friend of his?”

Crowley tensed. “His husband, actually.”

He braced himself, but the human only brightened. “Goodness, then you must be Mr. Crowley! Mr. Fell talks ever so much about you. Finally gone and tied the knot then, have you?”

Before Crowley could stammer out a reply, something dinged loudly, making him jump. The human pulled a phone out from her pocket and squinted at the screen.

“Sorry, I have to run back inside. But it was lovely meeting you, Mr. Crowley.” She stuck out a hand—thankfully not the one that had been holding the Bible—and after a brief hesitation, Crowley shook it. As quickly as she had arrived, the human disappeared from the garden, leaving Crowley alone and off-kilter amid a grove of mulberry trees.

---

Aziraphale emerged from the church around an hour later to find Crowley seated on the curb next to the Bentley, basking in the last rays of the afternoon sun as he scrolled through his phone.

“My dear,” the angel sighed. His joints creaked as he eased himself down to sit next to Crowley on the roadside. “Don't tell me you've been sitting here the entire time.”

“Nope,” Crowley said, popping the ‘p’. “I toured the gardens for a bit. Swiped some fruits, too. The mulberries aren’t half-bad, for a bunch of church plants, but they’ll need a good deal more threatening before they're really up to snuff.”

Crowley stopped when he saw Aziraphale chewing his lip, brow furrowed as he studied Crowley's face. Now it was Crowley's turn to sigh.

“Really, angel. It's fine. I was hardly bored.”

The expression didn't leave Aziraphale's face. A soft brown hand reached out and brushed aside stray wisps of hair from Crowley's forehead. The demon hadn't bothered to cut it since the Apocalypse-that-wasn't, and it was growing longer and more unruly by the day.

“I'm fine.” Crowley caught Aziraphale's hand and held it, carefully. He pressed his lips against the well-manicured fingers. “It was years ago, angel, and we both came out of it all right. You don't need to worry about me.”

Aziraphale still looked vaguely distressed as Crowley drew him close. With the sun setting behind him, framing his face and curly dark hair in a golden halo, he was the most beautiful thing Crowley had ever seen.

He kissed him then, right there on the road, in full sight of the church and probably Someone Else, too, if She happened to be watching at that particular moment. Once, he would've been terrified of such a public display, but he hadn't gone through hellfire and holy water to care anymore about what others thought of them.

As he helped Aziraphale into the Bentley, he noticed abruptly that the angel was carrying what appeared to be a shoebox, of all things, along with his usual camelhair coat.

“What on Earth is that?”

“Oh!” Aziraphale carefully pushed the box over to Crowley. “Mrs. Lao gave it to me once I'd finished with those manuscripts. She said it was a gift for you, actually. Have the two of you met before?”

Crowley stared down at the box, baffled. “We talked for a bit in the gardens just now, but I can’t imagine why…”

He trailed off, and his mouth dropped open as Aziraphale eased open the lid and beheld the contents with a raised eyebrow.

“Good heavens. Are those caterpillars?”

“Silkworms,” Crowley corrected automatically, leaning in for a closer look. There were so many of them, somehow both smaller and larger than he remembered, all white and wiggly and chomping away busily at the layers of mulberry leaves filling their box. None of them paid any attention whatsoever to their occult observers hovering above them.

“Why would she give you such a thing? Not that they aren't dear little creatures,” Aziraphale added hastily, glancing into the box, “but I doubt I have the means to keep them in the bookshop.”

“No need,” Crowley said before he could stop himself. “I can raise 'em in my flat.”

Aziraphale gave him a curious look. “You know how to care for these… insects?”

“Yeah.” Crowley gently shut the lid of the inhabited shoebox and curled a hand around the Bentley's stick-shift. “I've done something like this, before. I know what I'm doing.”

“If you say so.” Suddenly Aziraphale chuckled. At Crowley's affronted look, he demurred, “I'm not making fun, my dear. It's only that you still manage to surprise me, even after all these years.”

Aziraphale leaned in and pecked Crowley's cheek, making him blush red and sputter. Much to his disgruntlement, the Bentley chirped a light-hearted rendition of Haydn's Crazy Little Thing Called Love all the way home.

---

Crowley had spent the past eleven years co-parenting the Antichrist with Aziraphale.² They had faced this challenge head-on, and in his opinion, it hadn’t gone too shabbily. Now, without the threat of the Apocalypse hanging over his head, becoming a surrogate parent was far less daunting the second time around.

[² Even if young Warlock hadn't really been the son of Satan, it was the principle of the thing.]

Still, Crowley worried. He had always been something of a worrier, and that hadn't changed even after the First Day of the Rest of Their Lives.

After dropping off Aziraphale at the bookshop, Crowley returned to his flat, where he commenced the preparations for introducing his unexpected twenty-odd guests to their new home. This was accomplished by miracling up a small glass aquarium onto his desk, lining the bottom with paper towels, and carefully (read: nervously) placing the silkworms one by one into the tank. Once this was done, Crowley scattered the half-eaten mulberry leaves from the box around the aquarium. The silkworms set upon their interrupted lunch with all the enthusiasm of Aziraphale devouring a meringue pie at the Ritz.

Crowley slumped into his chair, took off his sunglasses with a wince, and rested his chin on his desk, staring into the glass tank.

“I raised your ancestors once, you know,” Crowley informed the wriggling creatures. “Tiny farm in China several centuries back. We'd weave branches together into a tray and let you loose inside. Bit like how manmade beehives work, or something.”

Crowley paused. Watched one silkworm slowly inch its way across a stem to tackle a new section of leaf. “‘Course, humans use wire mesh nowadays, but the general premise is the same. Always thought it was bloody clever, what humans could come up with. If you gave me a bunch of moth larvae and told me to make a living out of them, I definitely wouldn't think to make clothes.” He snorted. “Whoever came up with that, I'd like a glass of whatever they were drinking.”

The silkworms munched on. They ate much faster than they crawled, that was certain. In the quiet walls of his flat, away from prying human eyes, Crowley loosened the knot of his silk tie and tugged it off, easing the tightness around his neck.

“You're the ones who made this, in a sense,” he said, waving the tie at them. He laid the tie beside one glass wall of the tank at just the right angle for the inhabitants within to see. Several silkworms looked up curiously.

Crowley tossed his suit jacket aside, then unbuttoned his shirt collar. He had always prided himself on his sharp, modern attire over the years, the better to tempt humans with—or so he claimed. Despite repeated scoldings from his superiors, his Lust quotas had never been quite up to par.

Sufficiently dishevelled, and feeling all the freer for it, Crowley sank back into his chair to watch the silkworms.

“The only thing I didn't like about the process was the boiling,” he murmured. “Logically, I can see why it was done. And you would all be in cocoons, so it's not like you'd be in any pain. Not like I was.” He exhaled, the sound becoming a low hiss. “But still. Never liked it. Always felt like an awful lot of trouble just for the sake of some silk threads.”

One particularly adventurous silkworm had nosed its way upwards and was now creeping over the edge of the tank opening. Crowley made a mental note to devise a lid of some kind and stuck his finger against the lip of the tank. The silkworm crawled onto his hand without any hesitation. Tentatively, he drew it closer. Its many feet stuck stubbornly to his skin, and it reared up as he approached, swaying slightly, its mandibles twitching.

Crowley stared at the silkworm. The silkworm stared back, and seemed disappointed when Crowley had nothing else to offer. Just to prove it wrong, Crowley materialized a single large mulberry leaf in his other hand and presented it to the insect, who fell upon it with gluttonous enthusiasm.

Staring at the miracled leaf, an idea formed in Crowley's mind. He smiled, slowly.

“I need a hobby, now that I'm jobless,” he said aloud to the silkworm, letting it creep onto his palm. He ran a careful finger over its smooth back. “I think I'll take up sericulture again, for old time's sake.” He reached back into the tank and gently encouraged the silkworm to crawl back inside.

“Humans have to boil you alive to get those nice unbroken threads off your cocoons,” Crowley mused, withdrawing his hand. “Fortunately, I don't have to do things the human way.” He lowered himself until he was eye-level with the inhabitants of the tank. The silkworm he had carried paused in its perpetual eating and turned its head, almost like it was looking at him.

“How's this?” Crowley asked. “You'll be able to grow into a fuzzy, fully grown silk-moth, and I can take your cocoon after you've finished with it and miracle the threads whole again.” He paused and mulled it over. “I guess I could take it a step further and just miracle the finished silk together, but there's still something to be said about the human way of doing things.”

The silkworm bobbed the front half of its body as though in agreement. Crowley smiled again.

“We can make silk, and no one gets hurt. I'm a few hundred years out of practice, but I'm sure I could make it work, somehow.”

The silkworm turned its attention back to its meal. Crowley didn't notice. He was too busy wondering if Aziraphale had any old texts on silk-weaving that he could borrow, just so he could refresh his memory.

The angel would appreciate having a new silk bowtie to add to his collection.

---

Thank you for reading! Replies and reblogs are always much appreciated. <3

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #go fanfiction #good omens fanfiction #go tv #otp: ineffable #li writes #zine fic #insects tw

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sunareii · 4 years

Text

wc: 2773

suna grits his teeth, the light's too strong for him to see. he close his eyes shut, having no intentions to torture his eyes at the glow infront of him that is brighter as his mothers cellphone brightness. a deafening sound screeches at his ears like metal scratching another metal, oh how annoying that sound is.

he squints his eyes slightly as if his default eyes wasn't squinted enough. he could see a person, a female he assumes by their figure alone whose back faced towards him but the luminescence made his sight blur, he couldn't identify who it is

voice echoed insignificantly, he doesn't know whose is it nor where it's coming from except the voice started to scratch him in the head displeasingly

rintarou! rintarou! rintarou!

sunas eyes blinks open once to be greeted by his mother scowling after he has bestir himself from a horrible dream. he could hear a small voice saying 'oh no' inside his head as it's definetely not the first time he woke up to an angry face

"do you have any idea what time it is?" his mother barked, her face continues to grimace at her son. suna sits up groggily and reached for his phone beside him

12:47 pm

"how many times to i have to tell you to not stay up late!" she berates before pulling his cushion up, causing him to fall a bit from his stance and gets hit with it

"ow─! you just hit me with a pillow!" suna winces, strands of his dark hair are all over the place

"better than a slipper or your face would look even worse than just messy hair" the mother threatens before leaving the territtory so casually like she had not scolded anything at his sons ears. senzo could only choke a laugh at the freaky scene that occured upon his room, he had identified his apathetic relative as a fellow who would only shrug their shoulders when being rebuked or insulted. suna is infact a 'take no shit' kind of man, he's just wholesomely a bit playful with his mother.

suna goes down the stairs slothfully as his body might not be running his blood yet and he took a bit too long to go to the dining room where his food rests on the table cold as a corpse

"if you have woken up ealier it would have been warmer" his mothers interrupts from the living room. suna rolls his eyes then sneers at his mother from the room

'i wasn't even complaining but i am now' he thought as he opens the large plate that covers his meal, his boiled eggs as soggy as ever

he sits down at the at the table then started contemplating about his recent dream, was it even a dream? though it seems a bit vague but vivid when he was still in a slumber. suna reckons it was just another weird hallucination. he has quite plenty of those so this one is no special, except that this peculiar reverie didnt have any sort of plot unlike the time he dreamt about the miyas and some random player from karasuno that he'd only seen once have a bachelors party at a couple he had seen in a movie before while also drinking blue liquid which now is extremely questionable but that was just an example of the long list

suna hears a soft thump going down the stairs, he glance to see his cousin all dressed up for the day

"hey sen, are you going somewhere?"

"uh.. yeah, why?"

"can i go with you?"

"sure..."

senzo probably didn't sound sure himself, well that's because he isn't used to people wanting to join him to go outside or anything at all and he was receiving a small friendly treatment from a cousin he didn't knew existed and vice versa.

the two went out briefly after suna changing into some proper clothing for the day, the walk is quiet like the usual though they do give some comments here and ther. the sun sweltered upon them while two or three clouds wafts against each other.

"im going this way, is there a place you wanted to go?" senzo asks after an abrupt stop

suna truthfully didn't have a particular destination, he went with him 'cause he felt like it. they went far for him to just go back, he thought for a long minute before a specific location passes in his head.

"yes, actually

"i'll see ya later then" senzo says before walking away

suna felt awkward since his destination is far from where they had gone to

he doesn't know why he's making his way there, for fresh air? for the scenery? for someone?

suna halts as he sees a narrow space in the side of the hill, he figured it's also a path way up to the old patio he visited. he begins walking upwards and repents at his decision mid-way. the path is rocky and hard to stay still on because of the numerous inconsistent rock shapes. it doesn't help that there's a hot atmosphere around him as he continues to go up carefully.

sweat drips down his forehead, his tiny strands of bangs sticking along on it. the heat annoyed him as he reaches the top of the mountain hill, the sun beams directly at the crest where he now stands but once he finished catching his breath the brightest star seems to appear infront of him.

somehow the fieriness of this evening─the reason he's such a sweaty mess─suna doesn't seem to mind it anymore as he watches the the girl he had came across twice stand infront of him. she was there, like she had always been, tossing a ball over her head for who knows how long.

'wait, she does volleyball?'

i mean, he could see it but at the same time not so much?

though you were tad bit taller for an average height of a female and you don't look like you hold any outstanding physical attributes either but he can't really underestimate you that quickly can he?

sunas being remained unnoticed due to her keeping her concentration firmly. she tosses the ball up into the air, patently going to do a jump serve. from her evident zealousness you would be tricked that she'll actually spike or even jump with experience. she was slow and her legs looked stiff when she leaped, hell, she didn't even swing her arms in time, she barely even touched the ball.

'uhh.. that was an awkward serve' her attempt to serve was futile and funny even, suna can't help but to chortle instead of detaining it, his attempt to be discreet wasn't great either. she let's out a light gasp as soon as she heard him cackling from the side, she already was embarrassed at her shot but now that the same cute boy she saved from the market is a witness at her own frustration made her embarrassment go off the line than where it should be

"that was an impressive serve you just did" suna starts sarcastically whilst disturbingly taking little steps towards her. she could only scream her embarrassment deep on her palm, peeking her eyes through one of the gaps to see him, picking up the ball from the ground.

"how long have you been here?"

"long enough to see eveything"

"pleas erase it from your memory" she says blatantly as she finally regains her composure, suna shrugs at her as he hands the ball back to her, she unhesitatingly grabbing it back only for him to extend his arm up. the ball being too high for her too reach since the boy teasing her is intimidatingly tall.

"it's not that easy" suna replies as he looks down at the figure shorter than him giving him an irratating frown, "what do you know about volleyball?" she mumbles, her eyes looking elsewhere.

"alot of things" he remarks with a heavy stare. the girl infront of him seems surprised and asked "do you play?" which he answers with a curt nod. the silence after that is conscious and creates a long stare-down between the two, in addition to that is the beating heat of the sun baking them from below like they weren't perspiring enough from the exercise they had done in such a time.

"i'll just take this back then" she says as her feet tip-toes close to his level, the tip of her fingers hardly brushing off the ball. suna just stands there leisurely as he watches the girl he doesn't even know struggle into obtaining her property back.

suna gazes down at her meek nature, her cheeks faintly glows a pretty shade of pink, her hair cascading down her neck every now and then, the sun rays paints her skin too perfectly

suna smiles slightly as he pokes a little fun with her and having fun himself except to the part where he begins to feel her chest nudging his whenever she jumps and immidietly gave her her ball back smoothly. "here" he says before walking away from his agitation

she cocks an eyebrow at him when she turns around to face his retreating figure, his phone buzzed at his pocket, opening it to get a message from his mom and the second years groupchat, well maybe third years for noow on. yet suna couldn't be bothered to open either of them seeing as his mom just texted him some chores whilst the groupchat is just filled with the twins nonsense.

"could you play with me for a little while?" she asks reluctantly, dugging her nails on the air-filled ball

suna is bewildered at the instantaneous request but he figured it's better to take up on her behest than do his mothers errands anyway

turning his heel back, he meets her big eyes with his flat slanted ones and his actions seems to answer her offer

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

"what made you think playing straight under the sun was a great idea?" suna complains, panting heavily as the sun eventually plummets down. they stayed up on top for hours and instead of actually playing suna ended up teaching her the basics of volleyball for goodness sake she was an extremely slow learner.

"what do you mean? i like it up here" her tone filled with confusion as she questions him

"the sun literally fried us"

"you don't look that good to me"

"huh?" suna's brain is now all muddled by her statement causing him to give a repulsive look, she didn't seem too bothered by how she voiced her proclamation and only started walking down the stairs, suna following behind.

"you must be thirsty, i'll buy us some drinks, my treat" she announces as she holds out her baby blue colored wallet, turning left as they reached down the stairs, the vending machine is conveniently there aswell. "any preference?" she inquires only for suna to shook his head

"water is enough" he answers shortly

their drinks clank down at the bottom of the machinary and some gulping could be heard subseuquently. suna exhales lowly after drinking some refreshment. the wind passes and gives a cold whisk ontop of their skin, the sky is painted deep orange along with pale red. they soon walk in silence with the cold bottles, hers being a can of juice in their hands.

"can we play again?" she unexpectedly mutters shyly

suna glances at her, the tip of her ears turning incredibly red. "don't you have your own friends?" he mentions as he takes another sip. "i know quite a few people but only one or two are actually my friends and neither of them plays volleyball" she explains with her eyes shut

"if you're that wishful to learn the sport why not join your school volleyball club?"

she groans "i can't, my father doesn't let me join any after school activities"

"why?" sounding invasive only crossed his mind once she gave him an answer

"my dad is very strict, i need to be home before five he says" she mocks her father at the end of her sentence in a playful intention

"you're already pass your curfew, you child"

"you look the same age as me though"

"oh really?" they banter and it felt like they have known each other by a relatively long time. he enjoys her company it's fairly not too solemn and to him it feels nice to have a friendly jest with someone who won't intend to cause any issues unlike some two other people..

the usual tranquil in every interaction seem to be becoming consistent and recurring, they soon throw their bottles away in the trash bin sitting down the street like any other decent person

"so can we play again?" she asks the second time with a little more anticipation

suna didn't answer and only looks at her emotionlessly. does he really want to? she was nice but she's rather tenacious, there was a moment where he wanted to leave during the whole session. it seems the longer he stayed quiet, the more she became impatient

"come on! the guys who plays at the public court always looks intimadating"

"and i'm not?" he snickers while his eyebrow rose

"well, i didn't have the ideal impression of you at first though but now you seem like a cool guy" she explains giving him a small thumbs up

"do you mean when you rescued me in the market?"

"no, earlier than that" suna thinks for a moment to the point of looking up on the dark sky before the memory finally getting into his head

"oh, you mean the birdnest hair? yeah i remember now" he teases with a little smile

"it's not like you looked any better with your own hair at the time"

"so─!" she starts a little louder than her monotonious voice before smiling at him keenly exactly how she eyed him the last time they met "how about it city boy!"

suna sighs and scrunched his nose at the nickname, he presumes because of his unfamiliar dialect "you're that persistent, and why city boy?"

"i never got your name after all this time, you know" nor did he ever got her name

suna looks down for a moment, he couldn't fathom what is wrong with him just telling her his name, it's not like he won't get hers when he answers.

"suna rintarou" he replies blankly

"suna rintarou?" she says questioningly, he nods his head

"suna rintarou... suna rintarou" she repeats in a breathy whisper as if engraving his name in her mind

"l/n y/n" she introduces herself back, "nice to meet you, suna" suna didn't reply much and only says "likewise" back and continuous the conversation where they have left just before the introduction.

suna rests his hand in his pocket, "you seem too willing to hang out with someone you only met thrice"

"i like you anyway so it's fine!" she beams a little too bluntly and it didn't help how she closed the proximity between them, literally doesn't intend to let him go off the question.

"sure" he mouthed rather than openly saying it

"what?"

"i said i'll think about it" he claims as he turns his back to her to turn on the side of the sidewalks, "see you! you should know by now where to find me if you ever want to see me" she emphasized, waving her hands at him which suna imitated briefly before disappearing to her sight completely.

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

"curse you gate!"

the door slides open revealing her father staring at her expectantly waiting for her with his arms crossed just rught after she got inside the platform

"what's your excuse this time?" he awaits, his finger tapping his forearm

y/n stops her foot on the soft muck as she faces her humble abode. she struggles to open the gate as quietly as possibly but the damned steel gate really wanted her caught, huh?

"i.. was playing volleyball.." she says with all honesty as she step infront of the doorstep

"alone again?" his father assumes, he doesn't understand why she keeps sneaking out outside just to be doing things all by herself

"nope, with a newly found friend this time" y/n murmurs as she takes off her shoes before entering her home nonchalantly. she wouldn't mind getting in trouble for the day and her father takes note of her uplifted mood quizzically

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taglist (open!); @akaaaashit @sredamancy

#suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou #haikyuu suna rintarou #rintarou suna #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x reader #rintarou suna x reader #haikyuu suna

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thewolfmanslayer · 3 years

Text

Honestly the amount of people who say artists and writers should do stuff for free, or try to rip them off on comissions still royally piss me off.

I think the worst part of it is the entitlement, I dont want to make this too much about generations but a lot of commissioners are millenial/Gen z's who grew up on the "steal and pirate everything" mentality, take everything that you can because no one else is going to hand it to you. which I can get behind, when you are screwing over MULTI BILLION DOLLAR COMPANIES. NOT THE STRUGGLING ARTISTS AND WRITERS who are trying to keep food on the table as desperately as you probably are!

It's simple, you wouldn't walk into a restaurant, order food and tell the server "sorry I don't have any money, but I've got like a few thousand followers on social media, I can get your name out there, get the restaurant some exposure" NO! They don't need "exposure" they need you to pay the damn bill!

On top of that, most of these artists and writers ALREADY HAVE FOLLOWINGS. They already have thousands of people following them, waiting for the chance to get a commission, who are willing to pay for said commission, they don't need "exposure" when they're already out there! He'll even the artists and writers with a few hundred don't need it, they'll get more followers as time goes by, their skill alone will see to it.

And what is with people trying to get free art and writing? It's not going to work! You can't harass someone until they cave, trust me, you'll be long since blocked before you even have the opportunity. I don't do comissions, online anyways, but my own friends and family, people who actually know me STILL PAY ME whenever they ask for me to do art for them because they KNOW it takes TIME AND EFFORT.

How many times do we need to have this discussion???? Like when is it going to finally click that people who need to pay their bills just as much as you do AREN'T going to do this shit for free!?

Here's the thing about art and writing, that you've heard a billion times but still aren't getting; IT. TAKES. TIME. AND. EFFORT. TO. GET. DONE. the art isn't going to magically appear and the writing isn't going to suddenly write itself, if either were so convenient YOU WOULDNT BE ASKING AN ARTIST OR WRITER IN THE FIRST PLACE!

Look at that, you see that? The first picture I did back in 2012-13, the picture beside it? I did that TWO YEARS AGO. I didn't suddenly know exactly what to do, or had anything close to a god given talent for drawing (I'm not that talented). The first picture WAS THE ABSOLUTE BEST I COULD DO AT THE TIME THAT I MADE IT. In the time between these two drawings I admittedly took a break from art, but then I got back into it four years ago. EVEN STILL that was four YEARS of starting over from the basics, relearning everything, learning new things, wanting to actually improve my art.

Which, guess what, DID NOT HAPPEN OVER NIGHT. It was HOURS UPON HOURS of my limited free time as an adult drawing over and over and over and over again, every single goddamn day to get to the point that I was able to make that redraw look as good as it does in comparison. He'll, my art now puts them both to shame! Because I spent the time improving my quality!!

Now look at these artists doing comissions, they've probably put EVEN MORE of their time to get that good! They've put in LITERAL YEARS of sweat, blood, tears, frustrations and dedicated hardwork. Some did the same as me, self teaching and lots of practice, others probably had to go to school, which definitely wasn't cheap. But all of us put in that time and effort TO REACH THESE POINTS. Of being better artists, developing our styles, getting faster at drawing.

And maybe you think that this is super easy, right? That I or every other artist can just fire some art off and boom its good and done in like an hour?

FUCK. NO.

Even now it takes me several hours a day OVER MANY DAYS to make something exceptionally good! It doesn't matter how good an artist is, it still. Takes. Time.

Maybe the issue is that you don't understand how much actually goes into art, let me break it down for you, the steps that most people follow to finish ONE drawing.

-Rough draft: general character outline, get a feel for what I want to draw.

-Rough sketch: I start doing a bit of pencil to start filling in details like mouth, nose, eyes, hair, clothes. Ect.

-Penciling: I go over the rough sketch and clean everything up, maybe do some editing, this is when you can start making out all the details.

-Ink: I trace over the finished pencil with a pen tool and actually have the line art, everything looks clean, presentable, it actually looks like a character now. I'll spend time editing this and possibly redoing the inking many times over to get to a point where I like it.

-Flat color: I decide on which colors to use for skin tone, clothes accessories. Ect.

-Shading/highlights: I figure out where my light source is and how strong it is, I then apply the correct amount of lighting and shadows to the color to give it depth, I also have determine the texture of skin, clothes and accessories to make everything look real and natural.

-Blending: I smooth out the shading and highlights so that it looks more natural and isn't too hard (noticeable difference between color) so that it looks as natural as possible.

-Finish: I go over last minute details, finish any editing or corrections that need to be done. Once it's good I call it a day.

Each process is longer in length then the previous, with the exception of the final editing (as long as everything looks good) and even the rough draft can take some time. Over all this is SEVERAL HOURS of work for a SINGLE DRAWING.

So is it sinking in yet? How much is put into doing even a single character drawing? God forbid if its done with background. This isn't a "scratch a pen around and be done with it in ten minutes" kinda deal, no, this is SEVERAL HOURS OF SOMEONES LIFE BEING PUT INTO THIS

And if you still have the AUDACITY to try and wrangle free art from an artist then there's no helping you, you're just a selfish piece of shit, no question and I want nothing to do with you.

Someone might say "But I got free art/writing from.-" look I don't give a shit if someone did something for you THAT ONE TIME, these other artists and writers? Totally seperate and different people. You're one freebie experience does not, and should not apply to other artists and writers.

"But what if I really want this commission but don't have the money right now?" Well, that's tough shit. Save up and properly commission them when you can, it's not their problem.

"But what if I'm in a really bad financial situation and really want it?" That sucks, and I'm sorry, but again, not their problem. Chances are this is their only source of income and they need to make money so that they don't end up in a similar situation.

"They have a gift! They should share it!" What kind of cheap ass- LOOK, just because someone is talented or really good at something does not automatically obligate them to do anything for total strangers in anyway shape or form. These are living, breathing people, the same as you. They need to eat, they need to pay rent/mortgages, they need to pay vet bills, send their kids to college, do their taxes and everything else that YOU YOURSELF need to do. Asking anyone to spend their time doing something for free, when that something is how THEY ARE SURVIVING is beyond asinine. Not only that, this obviously isn't a hobby to them, it is very clearly THEIR JOB. Would you want to do a job where you didn't get paid at all? Doing a shit ton of work for absolutely nothing? No? Didn't think so.

"It shouldn't be about the money!" Well unfortunately, as with almost every other job, it is. We live in a world where we desperately need to make money in order to survive. That's the painful fact of the matter. If money never had to be an issue ever again then this would be a very different story. But it's not, plain and simple as can be.

Look, these people are just like you, artists and writers who are just trying to get by in a shitty ass world, using the one thing they have that let's them have an income. Leave them be, don't try and trick them, guilt them, or cuss them out when you don't get your way. Either properly comission or leave them the hell alone, plain and simple.

#artists #writers #art #writing #rant #comissions #people

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mariesdameron · 3 years

Text

Marie Sackler & Clyde Logan (KillersmileClyde) Part II

TW: Drinking, Vulgar language, Emotional distress

Word Count: 2,840

Backstory:

Marie and Clyde have been friends for quite a while. This takes place in Marie Sackler Personal Au RP story line that has Marie, single and on her own. Marie and Clyde have been nursing feelings for a long time but something always interrupts any action from progressing.

Sidenote: Marie Sackler’s full maiden name is Anne ‘Marie’ Williams.

This is an ongoing roleplaying scene between @mariesackler & @killersmileclyde

You can read Part I here

Clyde:

You stopped. Even better... you came back. Maybe I hadn't entirely fucked this up beyond repair. I hear your words, "please...what.. ?" echo in my head and I'm still at a loss for words. You know me and I know you but somehow we had wandered down the path to ruin.

Marie... I don't know what to say... I'm sorry isn't enough. I hate this. Hate what I've done... what I can't take back.

My grief slowly turns back to anger. Anger at myself. Anger at you for making me feel this way. I wipe my face dry and put on the mask I wear every day; the mask that shows everything is fine, nothing wrong is going on behind the scenes. I was broken. You broke me.

As I rose to stand, my walls were built back up I dunno what else to say... I just... I turn and walk behind the bar, grabbin' a bottle of Maker's Mark and pour a heavy-handed serving over ice and take a long drink.

Marie:

I take a deep breath; my heart is in pieces. I thought maybe we were getting somewhere for one second, but here we are at the beginning. I resist the urge to scream. I want to tear him apart until the Clyde that I know and love is bare for me to hold; I always get close but never close enough for him to wrap his arms around me and let me in. I can see it in the way his body tenses with each movement. I stand in silence, trying to process what to do next. Do I leave? Do I walk out this man that I have called a dear friend for years? Do I burn this fucking bar to the ground? I walk to the end of the bar, keeping myself in line with the exit. When I open my mouth, my voice shakes.

Remember your cousin's wedding that I went with you to a few summers ago? I remember it perfectly. I can still smell the fresh wildflowers, all the vibrant colors of a country wedding.

I remember how everyone looked at us that day. You were so handsome in your suit. I drank too many glasses of wine. You poked and prodded at me all night, teasing me for being a lightweight. I thought for sure that was the night. So many people kept coming up to me, telling me how we were the best couple. And then you pulled me into that slow dance.

I huff back tears at how vivid the memory plays out in my mind. You held me so close. I shake my head and look up at the ceiling. And then, you dropped me off with a kiss on the cheek. Day's later, you happily sent a text that you were off on a hiking trip with a new cute patron that had been hanging around the bar. I ball my hands into fists. I hate how pathetic I sound. I slam my hand down onto the bartop.

Fuck, Clyde...

Clyde:

My mind instantly flashes back to that night but I remember it much different than you do. I finish my drink before pouring more into my glass.

A'right... let's talk 'bout that night then. I work my mouth debating if I really want to open those wounds.

I was so happy to bring ya round the family. Jimmy loves ya already 'n I knew they'd be no different. I kept tellin' myself, we're only friends, nothin' else, stop lookin' into things that ain't there. But... I couldn't keep my hands off o'ya. It just felt so natural.

Ya made me feel good in a situation where I would refuse to go on my own. You... YOU had that power over me. I take a large gulp of my drink. And that dance. That was the single best memory I had since I left for the Marines.

There's a reason it's gone outta the jukebox now... have ya noticed? Prolly not but that's okay. Cause ya didn't notice how ya said his name on the way home. So that's why I kissed yer cheek instead of walkin' ya to the door like a gentleman. That's why I didn't push anything more.

That's why I sent ya the pic of me 'n some other chick cause I wanted you to feel what I felt. My hand swings between us with my words, emphasizing 'you' and 'I' while the alcohol sloshes over the sides of the glass.

Because while I was thinkin' of you, you were thinkin' about him. I down the rest of my drink to try and regain some composure.

Marie:

I shake my head as I receive his version of that night. I can't breathe. I stumble back and tread the empty bar. How could he? How could he even bring him up? I suffocate on my tears and put my hand up to signal for him to keep his distance.

Clyde...He broke my fucking heart, destroyed me. It took me so long... I choke. You think I wanted to go to a wedding? A fucking wedding? It hadn't been that long since everything blew up for me. And I went...for you. Because you are always a phone call or text away. How could I disappoint you?

I know how nervous you get at social functions and how badly your cousin wanted you to be there, how badly you wanted to be there. I barely could get out of bed most days... I WAS BROKEN! My words are shrill; I am suddenly the wounded animal that I was years ago.

I wasn't thinking of him that night... Everything became background noise when I saw you in that suit... I stammer over my thoughts; I need to breathe. My back slides down the wall, crouching I run my hands through my hair.

Sometimes, when you are with someone for a long time, their name slips out, casually... You would know that if you ever let anyone get close enough..

The words tumble from my lips before I can stop them. I stand up and clear my throat. I don't want this to be target practice. I can't... My mouth trembles.

You are too important to me for me to sit here and go-rounds with you like this... I've already had my heart destroyed once. The only reason I am standing here today is because of you, Clyde Logan. You. The light in you brought me out of the darkness that I was lost in...I almost gave up. I was drowning. You saved me.

Grabbing onto a nearby chair, I collapse into it; I put my head into my hands. Marie, you've done it again. You've fucked up. And like always, there is no one else to blame.

Clyde:

I was left speechless watching you break in front of me. You said I saved you and I just shattered every piece you had fought so hard to rebuild. I wouldn't be the man to destroy you. I put myself aside, realizing how important you are to me, feeling like a fool for not realizing it sooner.

I… Marie… whispers fuck… I grab a second glass with ice and walk over to the table with my bottle of Maker's Mark, placing down the glass and filling it up for you before pulling out the chair across the table.

Marie… we can't keep doin' this. I don't wanna keep doin' this. It's killin' me to see ya like this 'n knowin' it's my fault makes me sick. But I can't take it back and neither can you. What's done is done.

I pause for a few heavy breaths and you pull the glass to your lips, still resting your head in your left hand, refusing to look up from the table.

Why Marie? I'm talking more to myself at this point but continue with my thoughts out loud.

Why did we let it get this bad? Let it fester and rot until it killed both of us. I shake my head and take a drink. I shoulda said somethin' sooner. Should have acted on what I felt instead of feelin' sorry for myself… instead of pushin' ya away.

I don't wanna hurt ya by talkin' 'bout him, really I don't. But ya need to know how I feel… felt… fuck I dunno… to explain myself. Ya seemed so happy with him, like he was made just for you, checked off all the boxes on what ya wanted and needed in a man… all the things I couldn't be.

I tried to be happy for ya, I really did, but it hurt. It was just another reminder of how I'll never be good enough. Then er'rythin' happened and I saw the change in ya, how you pulled away from everyone and everything, how dark your mind and heart became.

As fucked up as it was, I thought I could be the one there for you, to help you through that tough time. I reached out but made sure not to overwhelm you. All I wanted was to hold you, wipe the tears from your eyes, show ya that there was still good in the world if you would just open up to it. I notice you shift in the chair but you still don't meet my gaze.

Then I asked ya to be my date to the wedding. I was scared ya wouldn't go or would bail last minute. Which woulda been fine, I'd rather sit with you on the couch eating and watching a movie than dress up in uncomfortable clothes and be outside in the summer heat sweating my ass off watching two other people in their happiness while I was miserable. But you said yes… and you were excited and that made me excited. I thought that it might be the night… to show you there was still good in the world.

The night was perfect. I mean… perfect You had a smile that wouldn't leave your face, you looked so damn good in that dress. I couldn't keep my hands offa ya and you didn't seem to mind one bit. Then I got the balls to ask you to dance. Y'know I hate dancing but you like it, you tried to get me on the floor all night. Once I was there, with you in my arms, I never wanted to leave.

The memory replays in my mind. ‘Amber Run - I Found’ played on the speakers, you pressed flat against me, your head resting on my chest with arms wrapped around my neck. I felt whole for the first time in a long time. We swayed back and forth, spinning in a slow circle and the lyrics burn into my brain.

"I found love where it wasn't supposed to be. Right in front of me. Talk some sense to me." My lips pressed against the crown of your head, wishing it was your lips instead.

The song ends and you look up at me and I thought this is it… then Jimmy drunkenly yells my name from the bar; telling me to show the bartender how to make a drink 'the right way.' and it was gone. I missed it. You just smiled back up at me and pulled me towards my brother.

I thought about walking you to your door, pushing your hair behind your ear, kissing you good night and every other cliche romantic thing you could imagine. But I missed that moment too. So now we are here. Both fuckin' broken and pissed off and hurt. I don't wanna stay like this. I'll tell ya anythin' ya wanna know. I'm done hidin'.

Marie:

I lift my chin, my eyes trace over the familiar lines in his face, the crease between his brow. I didn't need to look to know where every single freckle on that sweet's man face was; they had long been seared in my heart years ago. How many times had I witnessed that man smile, heard that rumbling, baritone chuckle from his chest, and ached to kiss his lips that are forever drawn into a pout. I lifted my glass and took a generous gulp; the whiskey stings as it glides down my throat. It was a needed distraction to the pulsating in my chest, aching in my mind.

I wipe the back of my hand across my face and sniffle. I know what I have to do, what I need to say. I am scared. I am terrified, to tell him that he is the only one who ticked off all the boxes, that I had let myself get lost in someone else. I tried to make a man fill a spot in my heart that could only be satisfied by the man sitting across me.

If I didn't ask now, I would walk out of this bar, and everything would change. He would never open up like this again; he would destroy himself, slam up those impenetrable walls, and retreat. I would lose him; the thought brought out a gasp from my lips. The idea of never being able to be held in Clyde Logan's safe arms was a blow to the gut.

I lock eyes with Clyde's and suck in my bottom lip and bite down. It's now or never. I gradually slide my hand across the table towards Clyde.

Are you in love with me? Because I can--t My voice quivers. I try to hold back my sobs but fail. I cannot do this if you aren’t...

Clyde:

The air was knocked from my chest and my heart stopped beating. Wh- what? I'm stammering over my words, my brain misfires as it tries to comprehend your question. How could you have any doubt that I am in love with you. Then I realize you are in denial as much as I am about what we feel, what's always been there just under the surface.

I had never put a name to the flutter in my heart in seeing you walk in the bar, the way my stomach churned, and how I hung on every word you said. Made sure all your favorite songs were in the jukebox and got every book you said you were reading. Everyone else was just a distraction, something to keep me from dwelling on the fact that you never would be mine. To help me accept that friendship was enough even though I knew it would never be enough, I would never be satisfied with just that.

I bite my lip, pulling your hand into mine, both metal and flesh, as I move around to kneel in front of you.

Anne Marie Williams, without a doubt, I love you. I am in love with you and I am a fool for not telling you sooner. For not spending every fuckin' moment I could with you. I won't make that mistake again.

Marie:

I've been waiting for these words from Clyde Logan for so long that it's too much when they hit my ears. I disintegrate. Sobbing, I slide down on to my knees in front of him. I run my hands into his chestnut waves and grip his face in my hands.

Listen to me, Clyde, you are amazing. Don't fight me on this. I firmly hold his head, desperate to keep his eyes on me.

You are smart. You are kind. You are not second to Jimmy. You are just as fucking handsome, shit! I think you are one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen, and you are just as whole and worthy of love as anybody. You are so fucking deserving of everything, and I.... I falter for a moment and furiously shake my head. I am broken; I am too damaged to be what you need...what you deserve.

KillerSmileClyde:

My jaw pops with how hard I'm grinding my teeth. No, NO! I won't listen t'ya talk that way. If ya can sing my praises then I'll fill books with your graces. You are so fuckin' smart, witty, a damn sarcastic bitch in the best way to challenge me. Don't even get me started on how gorgeous I think ya are. I think your portrait belongs in museums 'n no words in any language would describe ya like ya deserve.

You have the biggest fuckin' heart o'anyone I've ever met. The emotion had taken over, every thought and wish poured out of my mouth I wish I could make ya see what I see.

We both are broken, so fuckin' what, everyone has baggage. I will gladly carry your bags if it meant I got to see ya smile. What can I do to prove it t'ya?

#Angst #ADCU RP #Marie Sackler Personal Au Rp #Clyde Logan #killersmileclyde #Fluff #Slow Burn #Friends to Lovers

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