#hiiii i made my own heart hurt with this one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forlix · 5 months

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‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 (besides myself)・l.f.

— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

words・5.4k

pairing・lee felix x gn!reader

genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline

warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown

playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker

a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)

I. everything

“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”

Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.

You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”

Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.

“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”

Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).

You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.

You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth.

Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.

The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”

“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.

“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.

“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”

Byeol started to laugh.

Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.

This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.

“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.

His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Please.”

Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.

“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”

Oh.

You might just continue your lineage after all.

“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.

He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”

Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.

“P-pretty.” I knew it!

The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.

“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.

The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.

He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.

“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”

“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”

You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.

“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”

Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.

“Will you be around much, then?”

You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.

“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.

It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”

Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”

As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.

It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.

“Be around,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.

II. has changed

Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.

“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.

“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”

“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.

As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”

“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”

“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”

That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.

Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.

You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.

Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.

You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.

The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies.

“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.

Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.”

With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost.

Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.

It was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.

Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place.

The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?

Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”

Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.

“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”

For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.

“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”

“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”

“Do you see animal control anywhere?”

“Good point.”

Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.

“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”

“It’s just that—”

Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.

“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”

His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.

Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.

“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”

You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”

He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”

“Happier.”

He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?”

“Even happier.”

His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.

“GET A ROOM!”

You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.

“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.

“It had to be you.”

“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”

“You cuss like one too!”

“Because of you!”

“So we’re just lying now?”

“Well, yes.”

Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”

“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”

After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Being my happiness.”

He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.

Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.

III. (besides myself)

He’s blonde.

That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.

It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.

But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.

You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.

“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.

You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.

You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”

“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.

You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.

“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.

The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.

“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.

“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”

“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.

Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”

She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”

And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.

“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.

A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.

Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.

“Hi,” he says.

You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.

“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”

The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.

“—nice,” you finish.

“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.

Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t do it for me.”

No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead.

For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.

Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.

“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”

On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.

That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.

It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too.

With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?

After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.

You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.

Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”

This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“Not even Snernard.”

“M’kay.”

“Or Bong.”

“M’kay.”

“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.

“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.

All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.

Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.

“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.

“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”

Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”

“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”

The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.

“No,” she replies.

“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”

“No,” she repeats.

“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”

His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“We do.”

You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.

“We?” He repeats, and she nods.

“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—

“But what is your dream?”

It becomes too much for you.

You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.

You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.

Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.

You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.

But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.

Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.

Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.

You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”

You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.

“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”

Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.

“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ♡

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runnning-outof-time · 4 months

Note

Hiiii, thank you so much for all of these they are so wonderful.

I would love something with Tommy and maybe 30? "You're not hurt are you?"

Was thinking maybe Tommy comes home after a particularly trying day and just flops onto the couch. Y/N comes home from food shopping shortly after and finds him and is concerned for him. They can be either married or whatever you see fit.

Uhmm I'd love it to be nice and fluffy, and I know you said you're not into writing shut sooo just go as heavy as you feel comfortable with and coat it with fluff and I'll be happy. >w< thank you so much I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to be part of this celebration with you! 💜

Thanks so much for sending this in, @chumon ! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write! I absolutely love this idea (thanks for adding some more detail to it…it made it easy to follow). I hope you like what I did with it! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Never Tired For You

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: a slightly suggestive conversation/situation

Word Count: 1153

Summary: (Y/N) finds Tommy laying on the couch and immediately thinks the worst…he couldn’t just be laying down, right?

Tommy was tired. It had only been two days into his two week stay in London, and he already felt exhausted by the numerous meetings he had to carry out. There was so much to keep track of: the on-going deal with Alfie Solomons and all of the turns that took, making sure Arthur continued to keep things in line at the Eden Club, and keeping tabs of whatever Inspector Campbell was going to have him do next.

Somehow he managed to carve out an afternoon to himself. He was hoping to spend it with his wife, (Y/N), who had joined him on this trip — against his own volition — but upon returning to his sister’s home, he found that she wasn’t in.

So he decided to lay down on the couch. Yes, Tommy Shelby actually took a moment for himself so that he could rest. No, the world didn’t come to an end. But he actually managed to find a position comfortable enough that made him want to stay on the couch.

(Y/N) had been out grocery shopping. She realized that Ada needed a few things, and so with nothing better to do she set out and ran some errands.

The surprise that was waiting for her back at the house just about made her drop the basket she was carrying. Never had she seen her husband laid out on the couch — especially in the middle of the day. The sight of it alone was enough to get her mind running in overdrive.

“Tommy? What’s happened?” she got right to the point as she hurried over to the couch he was laying on.

“Huh?” he asked in confusion, beginning to move from his laying position so that he could sit once more.

“No, don’t move,” she rushed to stop him, her one hand extended in his direction, “you’re not hurt, are you?” Asking the question made her heart drop. She’d did a quick scan of his frame and found nothing glaring at her, but she couldn’t be too sure.

“No, love, I’m not,” he shook his head, continuing with his motions of sitting up, looking up at her with furrowed eyebrows. “I was just laying down,” he told her then, fishing the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket so that he could slide one between his lips.

The second half of his statement made (Y/N) audibly gasp. There’s no way that Tommy Shelby would willingly lay down, she thought to herself incredulously. “Ok now I’m worried, Tom. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes,” he chuckled at her worry, “there’s not a scratch on me. I’ve just had a long day is all,” he made another attempt to quell her concerns. The look on her face told him that she didn’t quite buy it. “Would you like to check for yourself?” he asked then, his one eyebrow quirking upwards as a grin teetered on his lips.

She could tell by his facial expression that his question was leaning on the suggestive side of things. Just the thought of what he was hinting at made heat rush to her cheeks. His cheekiness was one of the things she loved about him.

“Hmm?” Tommy cut into her thoughts, looking up at her through his eyelashes as he waited for her response.

“No…” she trailed off, biting her bottom lip to conceal her grin when she saw a tinge of disappointment fill his features, “I think I’ll believe you. And besides…you said you had a long day,” she called back to his previous statement.

“I had a long day…doesn’t mean I’m too tired for me wife,” he reminded her, the previous glint returning to his eyes.

“Maybe later,” she decided, her grin growing to match his.

“C’mere then,” he beckoned, leaning back against the couch as he placed the cigarette between his lips again.

“Let me put these away first,” she answered him, lifting the basket she was still holding. He nodded in response and she went to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Moments later, she was back in the front room curled up into Tommy’s side. “So you’ve really only had a long day?” she couldn’t help but bring their previous conversation up again.

“Yes,” he answered, his fingertips absentmindedly dancing over the skin of her arm. “Arthur’s losing it at the club again…I’m not sure what I’m going to do with him.”

“Give him another chance,” (Y/N) suggested, lifting her head from his shoulder when she felt his eyes on her. “I mean it,” she doubled down on her stance, her eyes locked with his.

Tommy pursed his lips and thought about her comments for a moment before he let out a breath and looked to the windows.

“I’ll drop it,” she broke the silence, realizing that his mind was going again. She didn’t want to ruin this moment. “Let’s go back to just sitting here.”

After speaking, she turned on the couch so that she was able to straddle his lap. His hands quickly found their home on her hips, and his eyes were immediately back on hers as the mischievous glint returned.

“Just sitting here, eh?” he questioned her with raised eyebrows.

“I’m sitting,” she grinned, her hands finding his cheeks before she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Tommy’s hands moved to press flat against her back as their kiss deepened, bringing her body flush against his.

“If this is what it’d be like…” he breathed as they pulled away just slightly, “I’ll have to start coming home early more often.”

“If you hold up your end of the bargain, I’ll hold up mine, Mr. Shelby,” (Y/N) pulled further away from him so that he could see the smile present on her face.

Their lips met again, teeth clashing and tounges pressing together as they became lost in their embrace. Tommy tried to be sneaky with it, but (Y/N) pulled away when she felt him start to unbutton the top of her dress.

“Not so tired anymore, hmm?” she questioned, a suggestive glint in her eye as she sat up straight, her hands running down his cheeks so that she could settle them on his shoulders.

“Never tired for you, love,” he husked, his eyes blown with lust as he managed to continue with his mission despite her breaking further away from him.

“Let’s go to our room then. I don’t think Ada’d want us to do this on her couch.”

That was all Tommy needed to stop what he was doing and drop his hands from her frame. “Go on, then,” he nodded his head to her, “lead the way.”

(Y/N) wasted no time in standing from his lap. She waited for him to stand also before she gingerly took hold of his hand and led him to the steps and up to their room.

*tags in the reblogs so they’ll hopefully get sent out

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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flowerpotmage · 11 months

Text

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (1)

Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest. If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, crying, bb got traumaaa! ambiguous relationship

Word Count: 1,092

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

A/N: hiiii my writer's block has been killing me, so i went back to my roots with some good old quickie comfort fic featuring spider-man. i hope the rust isn't too visible! (ps: your author [that’s me!] is nonbinary and has they/them pronouns!)

He’s there for comfort. For rest.

So when the blanket lifts and the mattress shifts under you with the fluid movement of his body sliding into place next to yours, you hum and shift to make room for him. You don’t get far before one of his arms snakes around your middle. There’s a brief moment where a TV show your mom used to watch flashes through your mind, a woman calling a man’s arms ‘pythons’ and biting her lip in a comical display of attraction. You remember the man in question, and you think if his arms were pythons, Miguel’s are anacondas.

The thought makes you chuckle through your nose.

“What’s so funny?” He whispers, his breath swirling over the back of your neck, tickling and warming the skin there in equal measure.

“Mm. Just something stupid from when I was a kid,” you mumble-whisper back, taking his hand in yours and pulling it up to cradle against your chest, your heart, fingers intertwined.

He hums, shifting and pulling you more snugly against him, resting his face on the back of your neck, the soft breaths from his nose going down the loosened back collar of your pajama shirt. It’s really just an old oversized t-shirt, one you’ve had for much too long and lined with holes around the peeling graphic that rises from the hem, but Miguel has never made you feel bad or self-conscious about it. You both understand the need to hold on to something from the past. He has his videos, and you have old clothes.

You let the silence grow, wrapping the two of you in its soft cotton cocoon. Letting out a deeper relaxed breath, you start to disentangle your fingers from his. His grip tightens, his body tensing so imperceptibly that if you hadn’t been pressed against him with nearly your whole body you wouldn’t have noticed. Even his breath catches for a moment.

“Shh,” you soothe. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He lets out a measured, shaky breath, nodding into the back of your neck. He squeezes your hand gently, and then releases it.

You hum, letting your hand rub comforting lines into his forearm, moving up and down the soft skin and hair. He’s had the forethought to take off his suit this time, at least, and donned the spare clothes you keep in your closet so that he doesn’t dirty your sheets with multiversal grime and blood.

His relaxed grip pulls you in even tighter now—his arm a roller coaster safety bar across your ribs, your back now a part of his chest instead of being pressed to it.

“You’re okay,” you whisper. “Everything is okay.”

You know it’s harder for him some days than others. The trauma of his loss, the weight of his self appointed responsibility in the wake of it, as if he can atone for his sin of having ever wanted.

And then he shivers, and with the fusion of your spine to his sternum it rolls through your own body as if it had started there. You realize, with his next shuddering breath, that he’s not shivering—he’s shaking.

“Miguel? Hey, hey,” you whisper again, shifting in his grip. The safety bar of his arm loosens enough for you to roll over to face him, and yet he still tries to hide his face in your neck, in the pillow. He’s not actually crying, not yet, but you can already see the dam beginning to spill over. It finally breaks when you try to duck your head to see his face, pulling back so you don’t go cross eyed looking for him.

The first tear rolls from his eye closest to the pillow, running a smooth path as it escapes to land on the pillowcase, and his face twists as he holds back a sob.

Immediately you pull him back to you, pulling his face against your collar bone, cradling his head and stroking his hair.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper into the hair above his ear. “I’ve got you.”

And the dam breaks, great shuddering breaths fighting their way out of his chest, up through his throat, out of his gritted teeth to land on you and the space between. The tears come in earnest, and soon your neck is wet with salt and grief, his face pressed into the juncture of your shoulder and neck as if it can protect him from whatever chases him. All the while he keeps his arms around you, his fingers fisting into the back of your shirt, digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. He doesn’t loosen his hold, not for a moment, as if any moment you could evaporate and only his embrace could keep your molecules from floating into the ether.

Eventually the shuddering gentles, then stops, the tears drying up altogether. You continue stroking his hair, your fingers gently grazing his scalp in soothing movements.

And then you do something you’ve never done before, instinct acting before you can second guess yourself at this late hour.

You kiss his hair.

His breath catches, then releases in a strong steady breeze across your salty wet skin and soaked shirt. All of the tension in his body seems to leave with it, his bruising grip going lax and his fingers releasing your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t normally–”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘men shouldn’t cry’ types,” you mumble into his hair, tone light and teasing. Only now does it strike you how incredible it is that this enormous man who could probably level your apartment with minimum effort is bundled into your arms, face tucked into your neck. You wonder how it appears, him shrinking down to fit into the embrace of your much shorter frame.

“No,” he huffs through his nose. “No, I just…”

“I know,” you whisper into his hair, pressing another kiss into the soft caramel of it.

“Yeah.”

“Hard day?” you volunteer into the quiet after another moment of petting his hair.

He doesn’t answer with words, simply sighing and tightening his arms around you for a moment, pulling you closer before relaxing again. You hum, and the two of you stay like that, lulled to sleep by the soft rhythm of one another’s heartbeats and breaths.

Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara #x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #time to add another section to my masterlist it seems

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eitaababe · 1 year

Note

Hiiii can i make a request for a possessive neteyam 🥹 i need one where he x reader argue, and he says something hurtful because he’s jealous and reader goes to leave the hut to cool off because she’s hurt but he makes it up to her ;) WINK WINK maybe a little touch of a begging neteyam as well hehe

Dirty filthy nasty talk as well sorry I’m done now LMAO

SOMEONE ELSE !

a/n — hi love! sorry i don't really feel comfortable writing smut with neteyam (or anyone lmao) just yet 😭 so i just made it a lil suggestive at the end i hope that's ok!! / also since the end is suggestive and implied to lead to something neteyam's aged up cause he's a minor and that would be awk🧍‍♂️

—

To say you and Neteyam were inseparable was practically an understatement. Ever since you'd met as kids, you always stuck together. You were there for each other when you got your ikrans, even, and you'd always go on rides together. A dynamic duo, people liked to call you.

So of course, when his family left the clan for the safety of everyone, you couldn't just let your mate leave you. So with some convincing and promising that the Sully's would take you in as their own, your parents reluctantly agreed, deciding you could choose your own future.

Though you missed the forrest, being by the ocean was something you'd never experienced before, and it was one of the most beautiful sights you've ever seen. There were so many creatures and the people were different in many ways, you were excited to learn about everything.

However, you grew less and less thrilled when you realized the time you spent with Neteyam would diminish to very little. He was always out and about, getting to ride his ilu and protecting his siblings from those in the village who looked down upon them. He was always so stressed, so tired, that when you did hang out, you always felt like a burden, or an argument would start.

So you started to keep your distance, and as a result, met new people and made new friends. You started to enjoy the presence of a boy named Rotxo, who was allegedly one of Ao'nung's friends. You were skeptic at first, not hearing so good things about his friend, but the more you got to know him, he became a trustworthy friend. He heard all about your struggles with Neteyam, always a good listener and giving good advice.

Although, Neteyam didn't see you and Rotxo's relarionship as anything friendly. In fact, whenever he spotted you two, he could be sulking for the rest of the day. Granted, it was his fault you two haven't been talking as much, and he could probably just have talked to you about it. But he didn't know how, and as a result, you'd found another person to fill his company.

Was he really that easy to replace?

Finally having enough, Neteyam wordlessly grabbed your arm, dragging you away mid-conversation with Rotxo. He ignored your protests and took to a secluded area, stopping only to be met with a harsh glare.

"What the hell, Neteyam?" You shouted, crossing your arms. Yikes. He didn't think that one through. "What's your problem? I was talking to him!"

"Well maybe I don't want you talking to him!"

"Why?" You inquired, annoyed at his antics. "You don't get to decide who I can and can't talk to. I'm my own person. Plus he's my friend. And he's been better company than you, as of late."

His heart dropped at the blow, knowing you were right. "It just makes me uncomfortable, okay? I don't like him being close to you."

"Oh, you don't like someone else enjoying my company? Sorry Neteyam, but I'm not going to wait around alone and close myself off from everyone else just because you refuse to talk to me! I happen to enjoy talking to Rotxo, and there's nothing you can do that will stop me."

"Fine then," he snapped, jealousy overcoming him. "Go! Go be with Rotxo. See if I care," he paused, sinking his fingers into the palms of his fists and unable to stop himself from digging an even bigger whole. "I have others who want my company. There's many metkayina women who would enjoy my presence."

Offended that he would say such a thing, you scoffed, not recognizing the man standing in front of you. "Fine then! Go be with another woman!"

"I will!" He responded without thinking, immediately regretting it when he saw the look on your face.

"I never want to see you again." You seethed, eyes glossy as you walked hastily away from him, leaving a regretful Neteyam.

The days that passed by all felt like a blur, your heart throbbing. Did he really mean that? Was he tired of you? Were you making a mistake when you decided to follow him and his family? Rotxo listened to all your worries, comforting you and helping you avoid Neteyam at all costs.

He kept looking for you, wanting a chance to apologize. He wishes he had just kept his mouth shut, or went after you once you walked away. The scene replayed in his head constantly, thinking of what he could've done different to make you not hate him.

So he waited until after eclipse, and when everyone else went to bed, he went out to the beach, knowing you would be there. You always enjoyed the solitude of nighttime, when nobody else was awake and you could watch the waves peacefully on your own.

Neteyam slowly made his way up to you, awkwardly clearing his throat to grab your attention. When you actually turned around and focused on him he was shocked, wide eyed and speechless. "Um, hi."

"Hi." you curtly responded, ready to leave when he grabbed your hand.

"Please, y/n. I want to apologize." He pleaded.

You gave him a look, as if saying to get on with it. He hesitated, not completely sure what to say. "I'm...i'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Any of it. I was jealous that you were spending more time with Rotxo."

You stayed silent still, making him nervous. "And I don't want another woman," he added, looking you dead in the eye. "I wouldn't dream of it. You are the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. You are kind, sweet, loyal, and have been nothing but the best for me. I took that for granted, so when I saw you enjoying the company of another, it pissed me off. I cannot stand the thought of you being with someone who isn't me." he stopped, and you noticed his eyes starting to glimmer in the moonlight.

"I'm sorry. Truly. And if you don't forgive me I understand." Neteyam finally finished, his chest rising up and down shakily.

"Oh, ma Neteyam," you cooed, taking his face in your hands. You wiped away the tears that fell down his face with your thumbs, kissing where they fell. "I could never want anyone other than you. I just need you to talk to me next time, okay? No more keeping your problems from me. I'm here to help you with your burdens, not hide them."

The boy nodded wordlessly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "I promise, my love. I will never make you feel like I want someone else again."

He then trailed kisses down your jaw, lips softly moving over the skin of your neck. His teeth grazed over it, biting lightly. He chuckled from the soft sound that left your throat, kisses drifting down below your neck. He pressed you against a tree, knee separating your legs.

"Neteyam, not here." You breathed out, not making any attempt to stop him. But, you really didn't want to get caught by anyone in a public area like this.

"Shh, my love," he soothed, hands wafting towards your loincloth. "I'm gonna make it up to you, okay?"

Oh, you were in for a long night.

—

a/n — i literally had no idea how to write the ending i'm sorry if it's bad 🧍‍♂️

#avatar x reader #neteyam sully #avatar #neteyam #neteyam angst #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x reader #avatar fluff #neteyam fic #neteyam imagine #— requests !#— answered

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ghostie-luvs · 11 months

Note

HIIII

so would it be okay if you made a yandere! hero x a villain! reader? Like a hero that’s looks like an absolute angel to the public, but when he sees the reader, he just turns into the villain. In private ofc!!

AND DJDNTJDKNR ITS OKAY IF YOU DONT WANT TO DW HAVE AN AMAZING DAY YOU WONDERFUL PERSON ☆

-🎀

Yandere! Hero x Villain! Darling <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who debuted as a hero just after he graduated high school. He had always looked up to heroes and it was his dream to become one. He always liked the idea of saving a person and seeing the relieved faces all because of him.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who felt excited even though he was hurt while rescuing a civilian for the first time, getting them to safety and loving the “thank you’s” and smiles he received.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who feels accomplished the more he saves civilians and sends the more villains to prison, where they should be. You can imagine the surprise the night he fought a villain and did not even have the heart to do any damage to them.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who later in his debut, is known all around the country for the amount of innocent people he has saved. He is praised everywhere he walks and is always somehow there when villains seem to be lurking. The people all love him. How could they not? He’s so sweet, he saves everyone, and he’s rather good looking too!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who saved a civilian one night in the alleyways as he hears sounds of struggle, seeing the two figures as he throws his daggers, the blades pinning the culprit and into their flesh as a soft hiss leaves their lips, their eyes flickering over to his as the once trapped civilian thanks him and runs away.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who walks over to you, scanning you over as he takes in the blood trickling down your skin and oh…even under that disguise you sure are cute. He sees the way your lips form into a snarl and how you struggle against the blades, one in your side and the other trapping your suit to the wall behind you. Only a small laugh escapes him at the sight. Feisty too, huh?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who sighs as he frowns a bit, seeing the blood down your side and arm. In his sweet voice, he offers to help you out, only cocking a brow at your refusal but eventually you give in and now, here you both are, in his humble abode, where he’s stitching you up and bandaging you.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who after that, lets you go and as a consequence, sees more of you often during those nights. During these many nights together, he’s gotten to know you..he might even say that he’s gained some…feelings? That’s absurd, he’s a hero and you’re a villain! He’s dedicated his life to locking villains up. And yet..he can’t do a single thing to you.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who meets even your villain friends and..well, was invited to do what they do. With you, he’s learned so much..he’s felt more exhilarated during the nights together than when saving people. Of course, he wears a different disguise during these nights. He’s till the sweet, caring hero they all love during the day. But the night? My, he’s made a name for himself with you and your friends.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, one night, while committing crime with you and your friends, sees your friend being just a bit more touchy while you were rolling your eyes and trying to leave the friends grasp. He didn’t say, but he felt a twinge of jealousy in his stomach as you two interacted.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, as the night drags on, finally loses his patience, a snarl on his own lips as he ‘confronts’ the friend, trapping them to a wall as he pressed one of his blades to the person’s throat while the rest of the group walked on, and he threatened them. “Look, you may have known them longer. But you better fuck off, they’re mine. Got it?”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who mockingly smiled as the person nodded and he retracted his blade, walking off to catch up with you, wrapping an arm around your own waist as the person is left befuddled.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who realizes that maybe, the villain life isn’t so bad. As long as you’re by his side, that’s all that matters.

A/N: M so sorry for the long wait but I thank you for the patience!! I loved this idea and I loved how I ended it <3 I hope this was enough for you, darlin!! And also, welcome to my blog 🎀 anon! You are also a wonderful person!! In this, I’d say he’s a new yan and I’ll give him a name soon ! :) reblogs, comments, and constructive criticism (please tell me if there are any mistakes) are welcomed!!

more of my works :) Requests!!

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kurooo-is-here · 5 months

Note

Hiiii <3 I love your Kieran stuff! Could I request a terrifyingly powerful Reader (male, female or enby, I don't care) whose a force in battle but a gentle giant outside? Eri-core or Red-core, tbh. I could see then being multi-type specialist for Fairy, Electric and Ice type Pokemon- maybe with someone cutesy or feminine as their partner Pokemon (like Froslass, Bellibolt, Azumarill or Gardevoir?)

Just Kieran really disliking them because he thinks they're narcissistic due to being a force in battle that doesn't really talk to their opponents too often, only to later realize that not they're just gentle. Or not, you can spin it however you like! I just like your writing :3

Yesss we stan a reader who is terrifying in battle >:D I love team-building so I incorporated some of my own team strats into this!

Hope you don't mind the rambling at the beginning, I'm not into competitive Pokemon stuff at all but creating cool strategies is still super fun!!

Kieran x Terrifyingly Strong Reader

You don't limit yourself to just one type of Pokemon. Tinkaton is your ace, but you also use Cetitan, Galarian Slowking, Ceruledge, Gyarados, and Garchomp.

Cetitan is a bulky monster who gets the ability Slush Rush, which doubles its speed in the snow. Galarian Slowking can set up snow with Chilly Reception, at which point Cetitan sweeps.

Ceruledge is solid for coverage and gets powerful Ghost and Fire moves. Gyarados and Garchomp are my two personal favorites for double battles, since Gyarados gets Intimidate and is immune to Garchomp's Earthquake. Not to mention Garchomp + Rough Skin + Rocky Helmet is a mean combination.

Tinkaton is the definition of scary and cute, her hammer is made of the parts of another Pokemon! With Gigaton Hammer and Protect, she sweeps everything in her path.

But back to the actual headcanons, Kieran is intimidated as HECK by you. You easily sweep his team whenever they battle, and your neutral expression the whole time makes it feel like you're mocking him. He's so frustrated that he can't win.

He thinks you're just some stuck-up strong trainer, to be honest. You don't talk much, and when you do, it doesn't come off as friendly or warm. He starts to hate you, at first.

...But then, he sees you caring for one of your Pokemon after they get hurt. Your Gallade damages one of its blades, so you do your best to patch it up before taking it to the Pokemon Center for immediate care. The whole time, you're humming a soft melody to soothe your Pokemon's pain. Kieran watches in shock-- it's nothing like the stone-cold Y/N he's used to. You.. actually care about your Pokemon? And you're so gentle with them too. He's amazed.

Kieran finds excuses to hang out with you after that. One of his Pokemon gets hurt, and he immediately seeks you out for help. The Elite Four is super confused because they thought Kieran hated you, but now he's suddenly... not?

Kieran finds that his heart flutters when he listens to your voice. He can't describe the feeling, but he just feels at ease around you. He realizes soon enough that he's fallen in love with you.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon kieran #pokemon kieran x reader #heheh i love team building #galarian slowking and cetitan can be swapped for something else but i just really like those two and have wanted to use em for awhile now #ty for the ask!!#kuro writes

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tvgals · 10 months

Note

Ok ok hear me out‼️

Miguel (YOUR FATHER) grounds you from seeing your unknown boyfriend (Miles Morales 🤭) But you being sneaky go see him without permission and you guys post a tiktok ykno one of those tiktoks that flex the relationships and you follow jessica so she practically SNITCHES on you to Miguel (She found ur tiktok account somehow??) So Miguel Demands to meet this mystery boy (Imagine his face wasn’t showing in the tiktok) and when he finds out it’s Miles you and your dad get into a fight but it all ends in fluff

(The tiktok is that one trend ‘catch me in vegas, catch me in tokyo thing please know what i’m talking about 😭)

Sorry if the ask was too long but i’ve been thinking about this for D A Y S now‼️ Love you, drink ur water, and stay safe ! :3

aur em gee i’m living for this …

you’d came home late for the third night in a row, miguel sitting on the couch in the dark, scrolling on his ipad with his glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose. you should’ve known better than to come through the front door, but alas, you did it anyways. as soon as you step into the house you hear a “look who’s home.” and you jump. your heart rate going down as soon as you realize it’s just your father. shit.

“hey!…” you chuckle nervously — taking off your crocs. “this is the third time you’ve been late.” miguel says, turning off his ipad. “i know, dad. i’m sorry.” you say, standing in front of him while picking at your hangnails. “you said that the last two times you were late. you’re grounded, y/n. you and this little boy — who i’ve never met — are getting on my last nerve.” miguel says, standing up, leaving you a dumbstruck mess. you trail behind him and plead your case. “but dad! you don’t even know him! he’s literally perfect!” you said, following miguel into his room.

“exactly. until i meet this little boy — you’re banned from seeing him until further notice. and if i even suspect you’re seeing him, you’re done.” miguel says. you purse your lips together and walk out the room with a “this is not fair.” under your breath and walk into your own room — slamming the door shut. you lay on your bed and shove your face into your pillow. you heard a buzz from your phone and pull your head back, turning your phone on.

‘babyyyy i wanna see u! o(≧▽≦)o’ you smile at the text, obviously from miles by the kaomoji. you sigh and open the text, biting the inside of your cheek before looking at your bedroom door. ‘can’t :( dad grounded me >:(‘ text bubbles popping up almost immediately. ‘oooo what did u do?!?’ you grin and text back — not wanting to hurt miles feelings on the real reason why. ‘came home late 😒 i’ll just sneak out! see u in a bit <3’ miles replied with an “okay!!” and you were off on a dangerous mission — leaving your room and coming back without your dad noticing. you slide on a pair of crocs and throw on a hoodie miles gave you. you created a “pillow you” and snuck out through your window, making sure you had everything before leaving. once outside — you let out a long awaited breath and walk to miles house, just down the street and around a corner or two. you made it to miles house at 10:30, miles opening the door to you and inviting you into his room.

“hi, y/n!” miles grinned, pulling you into a hug. “hiiii!” you giggled, hugging him back. the two of you were on miles’ bed, occasionally turning on movies and making tiktoks, which is when you got the bright (stupid) idea to make a tiktok with the sound of ‘sexy back’ by skinnylegend. you collected a few pictures off of google and you took the rest of the video with miles, mentioning him in the caption and posting it, not thinking about who would watch it. you turned your phone off and laid next to miles, slowly drifting to sleep (idiot). miles shook you awake almost frantically, you shot up with a “what?” and miles handed you your phone. 10 missed calls and 23 missed text messages. dammit. you called miguel back, hoping he didn’t know about you sneaking out.

“y/n, where in the hell are you?” miguel asks, you can hear the anger in his voice. “dad, i just went to the corner store for some snacks.” you lied, putting your shoes back on. “no you aren’t. your car is still here and you know better than to walk outside alone at four in the morning.” miguel said, knowing he was right. you sighed and left out of miles’ house out his window, kissing him goodbye and walking back to your house. how could miguel know? you were confused and even more upset that miguel wouldn’t even hear you out! you made it home and walked through the front door, sitting down at the table where miguel was. “dad-“ you were cut off by miguel starting his own sentence.

“do you understand how upsetting it is to get a call from jessica,” you should’ve known. “who has her own child — that my daughter isn’t at home? y/n i’m so disappointed.” miguel scolds you. your head hangs low in shame. you should’ve been more careful, or just didn’t leave in the first place. “i’m really sorry.” you whisper, wiping your eyes. “i don’t believe you, y/n. you can’t keep saying sorry and do the same thing over and over. i expect to meet this boy by tomorrow or you two are over.” and with that, miguel walks to his room and shuts his door. you text miles and walk to your own room, laying down and falling asleep.

‘dad wants to meet you 😞’

you wake up and immediately turning your phone on, seeing three text messages from miles.

‘oh no!!! (ﾉД`)’

‘what if he doesn’t like me?!?’

‘ok ok, how about 530 tomorrow?!?’

‘well technically today’

you text him back with a “sure” and you head into the kitchen where miguel was making breakfast. “he’s coming over today at 5:30..” you mumbled, sitting at the table. “hm.” was all you got as a response. when 5:30 rolled around, you were nervously fidgeting at the table, waiting for the three knocks to adorn your door meaning that miles was there. knock knock knock. you sighed and opened the door. you’re met with miles — who was beaming and holding a container of empanadas for presumably your dad. “dad! he’s here!” you called out, dragging him into the kitchen (not without taking his shoes off first). “dad, meet miles.” you say, making jazz hands while standing next to him. miles eyes widen the same time as miguel’s, you stand there confused and watch as the scene plays out in front of you.

“miles morales?” miguel says, biting his tongue. “yes sir. that’s me.” he laughs nervously, occasionally opening and closing the lid to the container. “my mom made empanadas.” miles shrugs with a sheepish grin on his face. miguel snatches the container from miles’ hand and throws it at the wall, the empanadas falling to the floor along with a crack of the container. you gasped and watched as miles shoved his hands in his pockets and turned on his heel, sliding his feet back into his jordan’s and walking out with a “bye, y/n.” you turned to miguel and balled your fists up.

“what the hell is wrong with you?” you yell, clenching your jaw. “what’s wrong me me, what’s wrong with you? you’re the one who brought him here!” miguel retaliated, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “because you asked me to?! are you mental? you ruin every thing!” you sob, stomping your way back to your room and slamming the door shut before you flopped onto your bed. your phone buzzed with notifications from miles.

‘does he not like empanadas?? :(‘

‘sorry y/n, i didn’t know he would react like that’

‘try again next week?’

miguel knocked on your door a few times before letting himself in, his heart breaking at the sight of you crying while curled up into yourself. “y/n..” miguel starts, sitting on the end of your bed. “i’m sorry. i wasn’t expecting him-“ you cut him off with a scoff. “you threw his mom’s hard work at the wall, dad. him and his family are the sweetest people i’ve ever met and you went and ruined it. i’m pretty sure he doesn’t even wanna date me anymore because of you.” you hiccuped, glaring at him from under your hoodie. “look, how about next week we try and work this out, okay?” miguel asks, pulling you into a hug. you look up at him with bleary eyes. “and you won’t throw his mom’s cooking at the wall?” you ask.

“promise.”

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dcfanficsgallore · 4 months

Text

I got you

Nightwing x GN!Reader

Warnings: Depressive episode, anxiety, minor suicidal thoughts, crying. But it has a happy ending. Hurt/comfort

1K words

Masterlist

Summary: You had a bad depressive episode, fortunately your boyfriend was there to cheer you up

A/N: Hiiii, I know this is a weird one to post but I just had one of the worst depressive episodes ever and after a long shower, this came out. It helped me to write out everything with my comfortiest character, I hope you enjoy it! DPFT 4 is coming I just needed to get this out of me first.

PS: This was written in, like, two hours not proofread at all Sorry!

Nightwing knew the second he got the notification on his mask, to drop everything and go back to your place. He gave you that for this specific reason and he would not disappoint when you actually used it. But first, he made a quick-stop.

After carefully opening the front door to the apartment and laying the bags he brought on the counter, he found you curled up on the couch, tear-stained cheeks staring into nothing, not even registering that he had arrived. This was a particularly bad depressive-episode and he knew that this would be difficult, but Dick Grayson isn’t one to leave when things are hard.

You felt the end of the couch dip slightly, you didn’t even remember calling him. Way inside your own mind to remember much but the little button with his symbol on it was in your hand. So that explained it.

- You came - You said, voice quiet still not meeting his eyes. You didn’t think he’d come, he has a whole city to protect, you’re far less important than the city. No one would notice if you just disappeared.

- I did. - He said scooching a little closer - What made you think I wouldn’t? - His tone was light, wanting you to open up but not pressuring either.

- I don’t know, I just… Thought you had more important things. I don’t want you to drop everything when I’m sad, I’ll be fine. - You said, still keeping your voice low, not trusting yourself to not burst into tears.

That when he decided to try and interlace your fingers together, when you didn’t push him away he kissed your fingers.

- You’re not just sad, and it’s the least I could do, you’ve been with me for so many of my worst moments I’m honored you called me.

- But, the city. You just left it alone, I can’t be more important than this place you just- - You started to ramble, repeating yourself, falling deeper and deeper. He saw this happening and put his other on top of yours, placing it on top of his heart. Grounding you as you felt his calm heartbeat.

- You ARE important to me, you are important to so many people. The city can exist without me, but I don’t know if I can without you - He said honestly and that broke through, you threw yourself on him sobbing and holding him for dear life, he still smelled like his cologne even though he’d been out fighting crime for a while. The smell brought you comfort. - You want to tell me what’s got you like this. - He spoke quietly into your ear holding you tightly, his arms protecting you from anything.

You told him about your day, and how you hadn’t been taking your meds for a couple days since they ran out and you didn’t have the energy to get more. Throughout it you never let go of him, he stayed still and listened intently, only letting out a low-hum when you mentioned your meds.

- Do you feel better? - Dick asked softly - Or do I need to bring out my secret weapon? - He said with a little more joy, he knew that when you got it all out of yourself you were more susceptible to his games.

- What did you bring? - You said, a little smile forming. You knew he never half-assed his attempts to cheer you up, so of course he brought something. Even though just his presence was enough.

- It’s a surprise. - You pulled yourself out of his chest and pouted. You both knew he couldn’t resist it. So he covered his eyes, not wanting to fall prey to your charm.

- No fair. - you nudged his shoulder, he chuckled. Dick uncovered his eyes and smiled at you.

- I’m gonna prepare the surprise. Are you okay with picking a movie for us? - You knew what he was asking, he was asking if you needed him to stay with you some more. But you were better now that Dick had returned home, so you nodded.

After a few minutes you put on a musical for both of you to watch, and he returned to the living room. Balancing two cups of hot chocolate on one hand and two plates of pancakes on the other, all while humming a circus song. He really looks like a balancing act from the circus, or the beginning of a clown act if you didn’t help him.

- Grayson! You’re gonna drop them if you try this any longer - You lightly scolded him before taking the plates.

- I’d never put innocent pancakes on the line for a joke! - He retorted with a fake offended look.

- Pancakes? - You looked at the plates. - but it’s 10pm.

- You have school tomorrow? - He asked with a smirk - We’re both adults! We can eat whatever we want whenever we want.

- You’re right. - You said with a smile.

- I know.

You two sat down, ate your pancakes and drank your hot chocolates. It was perfect. By the end of the movie you felt yourself start to fall asleep, you held on a little longer just to see the ending. You started to cuddle closer to Dick and he to you. Eventually the movie ended and Dick saw you were fighting sleep so he decided to carry you to bed, he changed into his sleep clothes and got into bed with you. Wrapping his arms around you.

Before sleep could take you, a question popped into your head.

- You didn’t actually leave Blüdhaven alone did you? - You knew he must’ve left someone at least on lookout. But in your depressive state, you didn’t even think about it.

- I did not. - He answered - The Titans are protecting it.

- All of them? - He nodded - Isn’t that a bit overkill?

- So I could spend more time with you? Never. - You kissed him on the cheek for that response.

After he said that, you felt like you actually were wanted. He actually liked you. You actually had someone who looked forward to seeing you. And that felt warm, and you let yourself sleep in his arms.

#nightwing #nightwing x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #my fic #DianaSimp

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moumouton4 · 1 year

Note

Yn avoiding Itachi's touch and his reaction please?!?

Imagine His Reaction To You Avoiding His Touch || Itachi Uchiha x gen!reader

A/n : Hiiii dear anon 🤩 I hope it's what you wanted. I went in this direction as I said I only took nsfw fic anonymously so yeah I hope it's good

Warnings : angst, mention of sex, a bit of fluff

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Words count : 580

You and Itachi always had a fulfilling sex life

If you had time, you could go 7 times in one week during your vacations. His record, well, he took you 5 times in the same day yes he had plenty of energy to spare

He was naturally surprised one day when he made it clear in his own way that he needed you, but you gently pushed him away

However, he didn't say that you rightly had your reasons for not wanting to do it, your period, or that you didn't feel well or just didn't want to, which he deeply respected

Anyways he took care of himself knowing that your and his sex drive are practically the same and that you'd have plenty of time to find each other

But the next time you also said no

He gave you time to come back to him, thinking that maybe you were waiting to create a lack before taking the plunge, but nothing happened

He began to worry when one day he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, and you swiftly pulled away

More and more he noticed that you were less inclined to kiss him in public too

At night you stopped spooning, pretending you were feeling to hot

And then during the day you stopped sitting on his lap, preferring to sit next to him

He was worried that one day he'd wake up and you wouldn't be next to him anymore

He worried so much that even his sex drive dropped

He asked himself a lot of questions :

What was the trigger ? Did you know something he didn't ? Did you have problems with yourself that you didn't want to share ? Or were you afraid to approach him for some reason ? Or was it because of someone else ? Or something else? Was he being threatened ? or were you ?

So many unanswered questions battled in his mind

He thought it was him at first, so he started taking more showers and wearing more perfume, he changed his workout routine, he was even ready to cut his hair and change his wardrobe if it would bring you back to him

But ultimately he decided not to oppress you with it, trusting you nonetheless

But he couldn't deny the ache in his heart every time you avoided his touch and he wanted you close to him, even to read a book or look at the sky

Not being able to touch you hurt him a lot, but he respected that because he loves you

Another of his reactions was to compensate for his touch by doing things for you, like baking cakes and making meals. Itachi even surprised himself by being very talkative in your presence, hoping at least to touch your mind with his words

If he got a chuckle out of you, he won everything

He hadn't decided to let you down, he was sure that all hope wasn't lost because he loved you and he was sure that deep down you loved him just as much

Why you avoided his touch, he still didn't know, but in any case he was counting on you to tell him if it got really serious

Though he knows that to have managed to get you off his hook must have been pretty convincing

Write in the comment what it may be... spoiler alert I don't know myself

A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! 🥡🥠 Again my requests are open 🧁🍫

Taglist : @foxxymunson, @cl0vr, @ilovemanypeople, @glossy1pearl, @jane57sstuff

#naruto #naruto imagine #naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden imagine #itachi uchiha #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi uchiha angst #itachi uchiha smut #itchi uchiha x reader #itachi uchiha imagine #request #smut #angst #miri-writes

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scaramouche-writes · 1 year

Note

HIIII since you’re taking requests, may I request cockwarming scaramouche ? 🤭🤭

"The only place you belong, is on my dick."

Scaramouche x Fem!Reader

First Genshin request so you're gonna get all I have for one. Please enjoy~

CW: NSFW!!!! (Cannot stress this one enough) Scara being a bitch. Dacryphilia, Degradation, ElectroPlay

1.3k words

"Wash that filthy mouth of yours" Scaramouche retorted when you swore up a storm after walking around in the snezhnaya cold.

"I can't help it" You replied "It's so fucking cold! I mean how are you not freezing your balls off" You laughed at your own comment "I mean literally"

Scaramouche scoffed and looked towards the ground shaking his head "You just can't shut up, can you" Scaramouche questioned rhetorically.

"Well if you must know, I am freezing, but I'm not a whiny bitch, like yourself. I mean contain yourself for Archons sake" You acted hurt towards his words putting a hand to your heart.

"Wow Scara, I'm hurt, I may be a whiny bitch that you complain about all the time, but you don't seem to complain about it in the bedroom" You nudged his side with a sly smirk on your face.

Scaramouche just shoved you off of him, and grabbed a fistful of your hair making you look straight into his eyes, his beautiful, beautiful electric eyes of his. Scara then put a finger against your jawline then down to your neck. You were so caught up in the sudden feeling of all this, that you didn't even see that he shocked you on your throat until you felt a sharp pain.

"Ugh" You moan out in slight pain

"Your sharp tongue is going to get you in trouble. When you're screaming out my name tonight, don't say I didn't warn you. Blame it on your own slutty needs." Scaramouche retorted before letting you go.

Your pussy throbbed at his words, and a bit of pain too. You knew you got yourself into trouble, but you couldn't careless.

~Back at Fatui "HQ"~

You and Scaramouche were in his room now, as you had just gotten back from your travels. Scaramouche took off his jacket and shivered a bit. Scara then looked up at you before saying.

"Hey bitch, here now!" He demanded before sitting down at his desk. "I've got some reports to finish filling out, and like you said earlier I'm "freezing my balls off" so come over here, and warm them up."

You gladly waltzed over to him, slowly grabbing his shorts and pulling them down. His errection sprung out of his clothes with a bit of precum dripping ever so slightly from the tip. Beautiful. It was beautiful. You lifted your skirt and lowered yourself on his cock.

"Not wearing any panties I see"

"You were waiting for this, but I guess I should have seen this coming. God, you are such a whore" He laughed slightly at his comment

You were about to say something back, but Scaramouche grabbed your hips forcing you on his cock. You squeaked out. With the amount of force that was in that push, it caused tears to well up. Whether it was out of pain or pleasure, it didn't matter.

"Sca-Scaramouche" You managed to get out

Scaramouche ignored your cries for more

"Shut up. I have work to do. Now warm my cock up, and I might give you a reward for being a good girl."

You shuttered at his harsh words but nodded.

The sound of silence with the only excuse of noise being a pen dragging on paper was enough to make anyone crazy. Especially you. Your pussy hurt with how much you had to sit still. You wanted to bounce on his cock so hard. Every once in awhile you started to bounce, in hopes of getting him so riled up that he'd forget his work and make you his, once more. Unfortunately for you, all your efforts were ignored, and all it earned you was a electro shock to your side. You won't lie that it just made you more excited even through the pain.

"Please Scara, I can't take much more of this torment" You cried out

"Hush." Was the only answer you got in reply

At this point you started to cry because it felt good, but you wanted-no needed more.

Scaramouche couldn't help but get a little excited at your little cries, whimpers, and attempts at his attention.

Soon enough, your efforts finally payed off. Sighing, Scaramouche put down his pen and looked at you.

"You are an annoyance"

Scara then got up, with you still on his throbbing dick. Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, he carried you to his bed before basically throwing you down.

"You are so goddamn impatient" His words harsh, but his eyes filled with lust.

"Please" You whimper out

"Please what? Come on, be a good girl, and use your words."

"Please make me yours" You muttered out

"What? I couldn't quite hear you"

"I said fuck me goddamnit"

Dryly chuckling Scaramouche sighed in disapointment

"You really are hopeless"

Scara suddenly thrusts into you with much force

"Ahh!" You moaned out in surprise

"Again please"

The wet squelching and clapping filled the room, along with the sweaty smell of sweet, sweet sex.

"Say that you're mine" He demanded

"I'm-fuck-I'm yours"

"And again" He groaned out

"I'm only y-yours"

"Yeah, keep saying it" Thrusts getting sloppier and his words slurring a bit, made it obvious that he was going to cum soon

"I'm only yours Kuni!" You shouted as you felt your release coming quicker than you thought

Those words and you cumming on his cock seemed to push him over the edge, because he loudly exclaimed "Fuck" before letting his warm white seed paint your insides.

Scara was over you, each hand placed next to your head, and he stayed inside, panting trying to catch his breath. The hair sticking on his forehead was even more attractive. The way he looked at you with those eyes.

Scaramouche then laid down next to you, having you rest your head on his bare sweaty chest, whilst his arm wrapped around your head and slowly started brushing through your hair.

The entire time he was still in you, holding in all the things you both released.

His cock was still "cold" he says that's why he still in you, but you don't mind. It's warm and comfortable.

"The only place you belong, is on my dick"

#scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin #loves<33 #take care

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gepazu · 2 months

Note

“come back to bed” kisses: tugging on their hand when they get up, pulling them in, them slowly waking toward you and lean in, a soft peck on their jaw while you whisper the words — do this for ayaka please also hiiii happy valentine's day ily sooooo much 💓🩷💞💕

to say ayaka’s heart is weak when you plead for her presence in your shared piece of heaven (read: the bed) is an utter understatement.

she would wake up with the sun by your side to fill the dip where her body should be beside you, but you always seem to notice whenever she begins to slip from under the covers.

your hand snakes to her’s; fingers touched by her own and made to fit against the palm of her hand slowly reach out, half-open eyes riddled with sleep and dreams starting to travel along soft strands of sky blue, the drop of her own tired shoulders— voice tendered with rough edges held together merely by the want of having your beloved stay with you for a little longer.

“ayaka... stay... please..” you drawled, and ayaka smiled — shifting to face you, placing a calloused hand on your cheek. she brushes her thumb over the high of your cheekbone where the sun hits and kisses you dear; a slow, bubbling want to replace it with her lips instead coming easily to her like an instinct at the ready.

“ah, but dearest— you know the clan cannot run itself, yes?”

“i know..” you shift into a semi-seated position, searching for your beloved under the weight of languor with a soft touch beneath her cheek. “but i’m sure a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt…”

your other hand takes its rightful place on her waist—tugging her body towards you gently as she falls into your arms and onto the bed with a small yelp.

“my love..” her voice wavers under your set gaze; cheeks dusting with the color of fully bloomed sakuras.

“five more minutes? please?”

a kiss. one on her head, two for her eyelids and the crinkles of her eyes, three for reddened cheeks, four for her lips, five for the underside of her jaw, and—

“alright,” ayaka exhales a shaky breath, fingers catching between your nape and the broad of your shoulders. “but only five, okay?”

she knew the moment she laid eyes on your crooked and still-sleepy grin from your small victory is when she really lost and went completely weak for you..

and yet—is it really that bad to deny herself of heaven (read: you)?

there is no answer, ayaka muses. perhaps she’ll find them in the wake of your kisses?

well, only one way to find out.

#★ love letters !?#★ mootie mimi !#sorry this took so long beloved.. life got 2 busy 2 write 4 women skdhkdjdkdjs #kamisato ayaka #ayaka x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact

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madwomansapologist · 1 year

Note

Hiiii I was wondering if I can get a Klaus x gf reader where Bonnie wipes her memory of klaus as a way maybe to get revenge on him but they didn’t know all that Klaus did for her so all she can really do is sit in the boarding house till something happens. So bc klaus is klaus he finds witches of his own (maybe Davina because reader was/ is her best friend and when she heard about what they had done to her she helps gets revenge) and Davina either makes Bonnie or does it herself to give her memories back but also due to the stress of having everything pushed back into her head she’s in some kind of coma and klaus had to go into her head and help her piece them back together if any of this makes sense id appreciate this

Have we met before? | Klaus Mikaelson

synopsis: Bonnie had enough. Everything she wanted was to live her life at peace. She wasn't looking for problems, but they all seen to find her. And don't matter how much she tries, he always end up hurting her. Bonnie could be sad for you, but Klaus Mikaelson had it coming. [1K]

warnings: angst with happy ending. vampire stuff. damsel in distress. no one dies.

ps: thanks for your request my love! God, that reminds me of a ep on Harley Quinn and.... you may say I took a little bit of inspiration. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Bonnie never mean to harm you. Bonnie never mean to use your compassion against you. Bonnie never mean to trap you. Bonnie never mean to hurt you.

But enough is enough.

She knew that you wanted to stop that war. You were truly trying to make Klaus give up on this plan against Elena. He was already a hybrid, so why he wanted an army so bad? What rest to conquer? Bonnie knew you wanted peace, and she used that against you.

Bonnie tried, but she couldn't hurt Klaus Mikaelson in a way that really matters. In a way that would stop him. Elena, Caroline, Alaric, Damon, Stefan, Jeremy, herself: they all lose family, lovers, friends, themselfs. And Klaus didn't lose a damn thing. Bonnie didn't knew how to hurt him that badly, not until she saw the way the hybrid glare at you.

Klaus care about you. He goes for you when he is hurt. He look for you when he need a opinion. He actually listen to what you say. And when you bleed, he get scare. "His heartbeat almost turn me deaf," murmured Damon when you hurt your knees trying to stop Klaus from killing him. That surprised Bonnie. Klaus didn't feel hunger or desire: the hybrid only feel fear.

Bonnie had nothing against you, but you should know better.

Bonnie called you saying that she had found a way to give Klaus what he wanted, but that she needed you help to make him agree. "I will help you," you said soflty. That break her heart later. How you believed her. How you truly did. "What I need to do?"

You got to her house without telling Klaus anything. If a powerfull witch found a way to stop him, you were sure that Klaus wouldn't be happy about you helping her. But what could you do? Sit and let he burn everything around him for more power? You just wanted to go back to New Orleans. And you aren't the only one to think that way, Elijah want the same.

"I am so glad you call me" In front of her, you couldn't imagine what would happen. You didn't notice how, while you drunk all the tea she made for you, Bonnie didn't take a sip of her cup. "What will we do?"

"I found a way to make him understand that nothing on this city really matters", the witch aswered.

You lick your suddenly dry lips. You were looking for the right word, but they all became a mess. It was like none of them matters anymore. It was difficult to open your mouth.

"That is," you hold the cup tighter. You look down, seeing those green leaves, and realize that Bonnie didn't told you what she made for you. It was sweet and nice, but it didn't taste like anything you had before. A burning spred through your mouth. "All I could ask for."

"I know," Bonnie smiled. She stand up and walked to your armchair. She kneel in front of you and took the cup from your hands. You tried to grab it, but your arms didn't move. You couldn't move. Bonnie caressed you hand, you saw it, but you didn't feel her touch. "Now is time for you to close your eyes. I promisse it won't hurt that much."

Klaus could understand if you needed to spend a day alone. Klaus could understand if you decided to not join him and Elijah to dinner. Sometimes you need to be alone, and that include not being around your loved ones. Klaus could understand a lot of things, but he respect his instincts.

Something was wrong. Klaus didn't had a way to know that, but he knew. Something is wrong. He could had said to himself that he was being dumb, but that would be lying. You wouldn't simply evaporate. Thats not something you would do. If you wanted space, then you would had said that. Something is wrong.

Klaus made his hybrids go after his lover. All he wanted was to hear the right combination of words. Your mate is fine. Your mate was just enjoying a time with some friends. Your mate lost her phone. Your mate is safe. He waited for the last hybrid with a necessity to cry. Part of him knew that only the last hybrid would be able to say something more than sorry. But Klaus couldn't imagine that he would came with you passed out on his arms.

"I found her passed out around the neighborhood." Probably the hybrid continued talking, but Klaus wasn't able to listen. All he could do was to look at you.

You didn't look like you were sleeping. Your cracked lips, the way your eyes continued moving even closed, how your lips murmur something that he wasnt able of understand. Your pink nails dug wounds against the soft skin of your hand, You didn't look like you were just sleeping.

"My love," Klaus took you from the hybrid and carried your body to your shared bedroom. Tears burned his eyes. "I will take care of you."

Under the blankets, you still not responding to his voice. He caress your hair and kissed your forehead. Klaus knelt down in front of you, with the lights off, and cried. "I will avenge you," said Klaus. "I will burn whoever hurt you."

A knock on the door made Klaus look up. "I called Davina," informed Elijah. He thought about saying this another time, but he knew what his brother needed: a target. "She was found near Bonnie's house."

Klaus kissed you forehead again, then got up and locked the door. Ignoring Elijah, he walked to whatever room was next to him. There, Klaus broke all the furniture. "I should have killed her when I had the chance."

"Maybe, but that does not matter anymore." Elijah hold him close, trying to make his brother's brain work again. "But now we need to help her. Niklaus, don't do anything that could harm her more."

"Where is Davina?"

"Rebekah is bringing her." Elijah walked away. "I know what you want, but don't hurt the witch. Not yet."

"It was a spell," Davina was sit beside your sleep body. "But it wasn't made for she to be paralised. No, something went wrong with it."

"Can you save her or not?" Shouted Klaus.

Davina looked at him. Rebekah didn't even let her chance her clothes, she just entered her home saying that her presence was needed. Her nightgown was covered by a cardigan Elijah gave to her.

"I think so." Davina turned to you. She put her forehead against yours, feeling your cold skin. Davina thought Rebekah was rude about not saying why she was need, but now she understand. If she explained what happened to you, how sick you look, Davina would be still crying. "But I will need help."

"More witches?" asked Rebekah.

"No. I know that the spell went wrong, but I don't know what spell she is on. What I know is that she is awaken somewhere inside her head. I've done that before, and it is easier if someone that share a bond with her help me."

"I will do anything." Klaus got closer to Davina. "Just tell me, and I do it."

Davina got up. She walked around the room, trying to calm herself down. "I need you to wake her up."

"We all tried," Rebekah breath out. "It didn't worked, as you can see."

"You will need to find her", Davina ignored Rebekah. She guided Klaus to the other side of the bed. "And you need to do it quickly. Do you understand me?"

Klaus lay down beside his lover. "Do what you need to do."

"Help my girl," Davina licked her lips. "Ille ad eam. Inveniet eam intus. Eam ad ille." Klaus convulsed, it was like lightning had hit him. Unable to do anything to find himself, Klaus held the hand of the woman he loved. "Ille ad eam. Inveniet eam intus. Eam ad ille."

And as soon as it started, it ended.

"It's done." Ravina turned to those other Mikalesons. "Now its on him."

A white room. Nothing more than a white room. Klaus stood up. It was so bright. As he walked, he realized he couldn't actually see any wall. He keep walking, and walking, and walking. Until the saw the oak door.

It burned when he touched it, but he was able to get to the other side.

Now, all he could see was the green of the garden. He didn't knew this place, but he could felt the love. It was innocent. It was warm. It was safe. If smell like childhood. And she was sit there, with a butterfly walking on her finger. She was awake, and smiling, and not hurt. She was... safe.

"Have we met before?" You asked, still looking at the butterfly.

"You could say that," Klaus felt a little bit tipsy. What he need to do? Suddenly he couldn't remember. It was so warm. So safe. "Do you like here?"

"You could say that," a smirk appeared on your face. "You don't belong here, do you?"

Klaus breath in. "I don't think so but I... I can't remember why I am here. Do you know why I am here?"

The butterfly decided that it had enough of you and fly away. You looked at him. "I don't even know why I am here. I just know that I have to forget something, but maybe I already forgot it."

Klaus sit beside the woman, admiring the garden. "So why don't you just go away? Keep walking and maybe you can find something."

"Maybe. But I am affraid of what I could find. So affraid I can't even walk." Klaus reached out to her, his stronge hands waiting for her touch. "I do it with you."

"Are you sure? You are not affraid of what we could find out there?" You asked. "It could be anything."

"I hope so." Klaus smiled. "I hope we could find anything. Maybe we can even find everything. Isn't fun?"

And when you touch his hand, everything just...

"They woke up!" screamed Elijah.

"Who wouldn't with you screaming like that?"" You yawned. When you felt Klaus's height on you, your smile was natural. You hugged him back. "Happy to see me, darling?"

"Do you remember what happened?" Davina asked. Your smile found a way to be even brighter. "The witch promissed it wouldn't hurt that much. She lied."

"Say what you want me to do", Klaus finally was able to use his words. He didn't let you go. You couldn't wish for something different. "One word from your mouth and she is dead."

You hesitated.

"You can have your fun," you said, finally. "I just want to watch."

"As you wish."

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#madwomansapologist #ask box #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x y/n #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the originals x y/n #the originals x you #the originals x reader #the originals #klaus mikaelson x you #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaelson x female reader #reader insert

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el-moscorrofio-y-el-mercachifle · 1 month

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Hellooooo ❤️

I love your blog a lot, you're so insightful and it's like an oasis in the desert of media literacy in the YSBLF fandom, lol.

Wanted to ask, what do you think would've happened if Don Hermes found out about the Sinister Plan? I think that regardless of the point in the story he would probably be unable to forgive Armando for it and might be the biggest deterrent for Betty to be with/accept Armando back, but I wanted to know what you think and what possibilities you see!

Hiiii! Thank youuuu!🥰🥰🥰🥰

Oh, I love this question!!! It has multiple answers depending on when he finds out and how. that would have definitely been a big stone! Big enough to have been the plot of a sequel or of a whole other part of ysblf (that ik couldn't be, but it had the potential), or, simply, ending it all on tragedy.

I'll go for him finding out after Cartagena and through Armando. My first idea was him finding during Cartagena and through her diary, becaus I think the novela mainly nodded to that (given how he eyed the diary when Betty was leaving and how foña Julia mentioned he might try to read it), but after thinking it through, I think that if don Hermes had read through Betty's perspective how it all went down, how it shattered her, how it's not the first time a man manipulated her like this, and how she thinks her life is nothing but a "cycle of tragedy", he wouldn't have let her go back to Ecomoda at all. His protection style is avoiding the thing that can hurt her, like how he isolated her from the kids who mistreated her as a kid and how he didn't want to let her go to that "date" with Roman's friend. And it all would have ended right there, with Ecomoda back in th Mendozas/Valencias' hands for a microsecond before being eaten alive by the debts, lenders, and banks.

So instead I think the only way it could have worked and the relationship between A&B would have still happened would have been if he had known it all after the relationship started. Otherwise, he wouldn't have let Armando get anywhere near Betty. Probably Betty wouldn't even be allowed to go back to Ecomoda! The novela made a big point of Don Hermes not finding out under any circumstance.

I'm sure no one would tell him the truth, so I think he would have needed to find out on his own. Maybe he heard a rumor, or maybe he found something like the diary or a copy of the letter

Point is, he learns the truth, ans immediately his half-hearted tolerance of the relationship becomes full on disapproval

He already knows a few things that I'm honestly baffled about him just forgetting and approving of so quickly: that Betty was Armando's mistress and that they did semi ilegal business together

Add on top of that that Armando used Betty like that, and don Hermes definitely would have absolutely disapproved

He'd likely ban Armando from his house, and would make it extremely clear to Betty that he disapproves of Armando and doesn't want to see them together

Doña Julia would try to talk him out of that, but it wouldn't work.

Knowing don Hermes, he probably wouldn't even tell her why he hates Armando

Honestly, I think Nicolás would have been on his side

Personally, I think everyone by the end of the novela accepted the relationship simply because there was no more time, but if there had been, a whole new part of the novela could have been handling these types of issues

I definitely think Nicolás, don Hermes, and doña Margarita wouldn't have approved. Roberto would have likely continued nof being too present.

So I think the pressure of having almost no support from the people that they cared the most would have hurt a lot

Doña Julia may approve, tho

Nicolás would disapprove but be like "do whatever you want but I think this is wrong" ans would treat Armando coldly whenever they saw each other at Ecomoda

In the novela Armando basically implies that his dates with Betty were mainly at her house, so I'm guessing in this case they'd likely be mainly sneaking around in the office

Not that the relationship is a secret, but rather they would just keep it pretty lowkey

It would bring them down a lot, because for them it's important to have their parents' support

But by the time the engagement comes, Armando is sort of okay with knowing his dad is basically out of his life and his mom is very reluctantly in it

Margarita is not only angry about what happened with Marcela, but she's also angry about how quickly he went to Betty. ((With her too I think her quick acceptance of her was mainly due to lack of time))

Eventually don Hermes would have to tolerate Armando, but they would never form a good relationship

In general, as long as don Hermes finds out AFTER they are together, I don't think much bad would happen! I think Armando and Betty were ready and willing to fight for the other by that point. But if it were to happen during Cartagena or immediately after??? Or if he finds out through her diary??? Hell no, all hell would break loose! Don Hermes would get his gun and threaten Armando at gunpoint to never get near Betty again. He would forbid Betty from going back to Ecomoda. If Armando tried to go again to the house he'd be kicked out.

It's a lot of different possibilities depending on when he finds out!

Thank you for the ask🥰🥰 i'm glad you are enjoying my blog🥰🥰

#ysblf #yo soy betty la fea #betty la fea #armando mendoza #beatriz pinzon solano #beatriz pinzón solano #armando ysblf #betty ysblf

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ikeromantic · 1 year

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Hiiii, sorry to bug you but can you do a Mozart x f reader angst where MC has pretty low self esteem, but has SUPER bad coping mechanisms and Mozart tries to get MC help but she's very stubborn about not getting it, kinda like Tracy and Mel in thirteen. (if you've seen it ofc) Have a great rest of your day/night😁

I have not seen Thirteen (Reasons Why)! But it is on my watch list ^_^ I have to carefully measure out how much drama and angst I take in or it will eat up my writing! Approx. 1100 words of hurt, self harm, and comfort.

Mozart saw the changes in her as if he were reading notes on a page. The self-deprecating twist to her lips, the way she began avoiding everyone when she wasn’t working. Avoiding him. At first, he tried to pretend not to care. When she brought him his meals in the music room, he gave her exactly what she gave him.

Disinterest.

They sparred with cruel words and cold looks, and every encounter left Mozart’s heart bruised. He did not understand what he’d done wrong. They’d been growing close - close enough that he held her hand. Shared a glass of wine. Told each other secrets never shared with another. And then after one recital at a noble estate, she’d gone dark on him. Dark and distant as a new moon.

He remembered the night, if only because he’d found her in the gardens, crying. And she wouldn’t say why. He’d been surprised at her reticence then. Now, he felt it was the first shiver of this shift into a woman he felt he barely knew. There were only sparse moments, unguarded, when he could see his darling looking out her hooded eyes.

Mozart wanted more than anything to bridge the gap between them. To understand why she was so angry, and what pain lay under that rage. He made a plan, as carefully as he drafted his compositions. The chorus was simple - ask and learn what lurked in her shadowed heart. But the melody . . . what note to begin? What key? What tempo?

He waited until she was in her room one evening, and fetched a few of her favorite things. Tea with a dollop of honey. Ginger cookies. A strawberry candy. Then he made his way there, tray in hand. Mozart considered knocking, but she might tell him to go away. That would ruin the whole plan. So he quietly opened the door, thankful it was unlocked.

The sight within froze him midstep. She sat crosslegged on the floor in front of a candle. Her forearm was held above the hungry flame, blistering her flesh in a scarlet welt. Worse was her expression. Pained, of course, because the fire burned. But satisfied. As if she deserved what she gave herself. And disgust, a hatred for her own weakness.

Mozart recognized it, because he felt something akin to it as well. In his endless disappointments, his pathetic fears, his failures. He dropped the tray and lurched toward her, unsure what he would do but feeling he must do something. The door swung shut behind him, the tea spilled across the carpet, and the treats scattered over the floor.

She looked up, her face going slack with surprise. “What-” Her words cut short as he extinguished the candle and kicked it out of the way. Despite his smallish frame, Mozart had the strength of a vampire. And he used it now to haul her to her feet and into his arms.

He did not realize he was crying. Nor did he see her face crumple at this sudden, unexpected embrace. “What are you doing, meine liebe? Your arm!” He gently touched the length of it, running his fingertips over half-healed burns and the scabs of old cuts.

His words seemed to remind her that she should be angry at his invasion. She struggled to push him away, slapping at his chest and hands. “Let me go! What the fuck, Wolf?”

“No,” he replied, his voice soft but full of an inner steel.

She slapped him. Hard. For a moment, Mozart saw white, nothing but an explosion of pain as his jaw slipped out of true, straining the tendons and ligaments in his neck and face. If he were a normal man, it would have broken. He’d have a bruise. But his flesh set to repairing itself almost as soon as the injury took place.

He did not let go. “Meine engel, stop fighting me. Tell me what this is? What have you done? Why . . .” He jerked her arm straight, displaying the injuries for them both.

“Why do you care,” she spat. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, hot and angry. She pushed against him again. “Just - just let go, damn it! Get out!” The last word was more a howl than language, the sound of a soul in agony.

Mozart could no more let go than he could cut off his own arm. He pulled her close instead, enduring the scrape of her sharp little nails, the hardness of her elbows and knees. She fought him with everything she had, until she exhausted herself and there were only tears left.

When she collapsed against him in defeat, he held her. Silent but for her crying. What could he say? He did not know what words could set this right. Could not understand what drove her to this - this mutilation of her precious flesh. The harm to her body and soul, both of which he had come to love so much.

“Just leave.” Her voice shook, tired and full to the brim with emotion.

“I won’t. I can’t.” He pressed his forehead to her cheek, frustrated.

“Why not? Wh-why?”

Mozart swallowed his own pride, his fear of rejection, and replied. “I love you. You are so - so very precious to me.” He kissed her cheek. The line of her jaw. The crook of her neck. “I love you so much I am mad with it. I’ve missed you so, these last weeks.”

“You don’t.” She turned her face from him. “You - you love music. I’m just . . . stupid. Useless. Pathetic.” Her hands clenched, white-knuckled, driving her nails into her palms.

He lifted the fist to his lips and kissed each finger, slowly prying them loose until he could see her palm. Scored with little angry red crescents. He kissed those too. “You are none of those things. You are so strong, to come here and make a life for yourself. Far from everything you know. So smart, to learn so many new skills . . . my sweet. Meine liebling. Meine perle.”

She gave a snort of disgust, pain still bright in her eyes. “I distract you. You’re b-better off -”

Mozart put a finger to her lips. “No. Never. I did not realize I was missing something, until you.”

Her eyes searched his face, hope and uncertainty wedded in that gaze. After a long silent moment, she laid her head on his shoulder and clung to him.

There was nothing for him to do but hold her, and so he did. He sat with her on his lap, stroking her back in careful circles. He spoke too, words of love, endearments from his heart. Things he had never been able to speak until this night, until he realized how close he’d come to losing her to herself.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp mozart #wolfgang mozart #tw self harm #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys #hurt and comfort

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claymorexpunisher · 2 years

Text

We're starting off with Rhea Ripley for this series because I'm already missing her presence on MNR. Hopefully she's back soon!

Brats Have More Fun (1/?)(18+ Fic)

Pairing(s): Rhea Ripley/Fem. Reader

Summary: Bratty Reader's sorry-excuse-for-a-Dom sends Rhea in as a ''reinforcement'' of sorts. Things get intense... and certain feelings start to bubble up onto the surface.

Tags: 18+, smut, humiliation, kink, bondage, sadism, masochism, bratting, fluff, aftercare.

Word Count: 2,616

Disclaimer: As always, if you want to be added or removed from my taglist please let me know. I think this one gets a bit intense. So, if you choose to sit this one, I totally understand!

The second Rhea entered the dimly lit room, decked out in tight, black leather pants and a leather halter top, I gave her a smirk.

‘’Hiiii, mistressss… Come to punish me? Ooh, I’m soooo scared! ‘’ I teased, sticking out my tongue and wiggling my fingers into a wave from where I stood spread-eagle and secured onto the St. Andrews cross in her playroom.

But my words quickly died in my throat at the sight of Rhea reaching into her pocket and taking out three clothespins.

Before I could react and push my tongue back into my mouth, Rhea grabbed the fleshy organ between her fingers and secured a single clothespin right at the center.

She clearly wasn’t wasting any time on my antics and that alone had my pulse racing.

‘’Mmph! Wha’ da ‘uck?!’’ I mumbled, followed by an equally as incoherent exclaim of ‘is that all you got?!’

Despite my challenging words, I couldn’t help but blush as I heard my garbled voice.

My humiliation grew as Rhea secured another clothespin next to the first one, making it even harder for me talk back as much as I wanted.

‘’I’m sorry? Would you like to repeat that? I couldn’t understand you, sweetheart.’’ Rhea responded.

Her jet-black colored lips broke into a slow smirk as I tried to challenge her once again and saliva began to trickle out of my mouth while I had no choice but to keep it open.

I was stumped for the time being.

But still, I forced matching smirk on my face, and I fought through the biting pain on my tongue that slowly waned down to a slight pressure.

It was gonna take a lot more than just some little clothespins on my tongue to put me back in my place and Rhea knew that.

Still, she attached a third one.

And this time, I did allow my eyes water a bit at the sting against my tongue, but that was it.

I told myself I wasn’t going to give Rhea more than that.

But, boy, was I fucking wrong…

My eyes followed Rhea’s tall form as she began to sort through the array of toys in the spacious room and my heart rate kicked up another couple notches as she plucked a single-tail flogger from where it stood mounted on the wall.

Fuck, this was gonna hurt like a raging bitch.

Stingy toys weren’t really my favorite.

But this was a punishment so, what I did or didn’t like didn’t really matter in this moment.

As I watched her bring the flogger to my skin and she began to trace soft patterns with it against my skin, I noticed the sadistic gleam in her eye.

Right then, I knew my fun was ending abruptly.

Hers?

Hers had only just begun…

That gleam in her eye only intensified as she met my own gaze and she saw the nerves and anticipation swimming within them.

‘’You will thank me for reminding you of your place… Might be a little hard right now- ‘’ Rhea began, and she chuckled as she gave one of the clothespins on my tongue a little flick that made me flinch and yelp softly, breaking me out of the false bravado I had met my mistress with when she first walked in.

‘’-but you’ll manage, I’m sure. Isn’t that right, princess? … Yes, mistress!’’ she mocked and grabbed my chin and forced me to nod like a puppet when I didn’t answer.

The first cracking blow made me growl at her through clenched teeth like a feral animal wanting to break out of its cage.

‘’Answer me.’’ Rhea said and in a moment of weakness, I hurried to answer with an incoherent but eager ‘Yes, mistress! Thank you, mistress!’ that had Rhea chuckling once again.

By the fifth blow, though, I hadn’t uttered a single coherent word, no matter how much it hurt.

I didn’t even say a word when she caught me by surprise and she actually began to flick off the clothespins on my tongue, one by one, with an expert twist of her wrist.

Aside from the burning pain, it all felt utterly exhilarating, and Rhea just kept at it, never losing her steady rhythm.

Rhea…ever-so-patient…

She knew that I was a bit of a tough nut to crack, but I was going to find my manners and remember my place again at some point.

And by the fifteenth blow, I gave in.

With a mixture of mascara, lipstick and saliva running down my chest, I finally gave in and did as I was told, thanking my mistress for my deserved punishment…

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

‘’What does Jacob usually do for aftercare?’’ Rhea asked once my punishment was over, and she began to untie me.

She immediately noticed my sudden and uncomfortable silence.

Flexing my fingers once she untied my hands, feeling her stare boring into me as I refused to meet her eyes.

Reflexively, I lied through my teeth.

In the months that I was being carded off to Rhea’s house by my ‘’Dom’’, I was already feeling more at ease with her than with anyone.

And while things always did get intense between us whenever I needed some discipline, once that was over, we fell into this softer, gentler, and easy dynamic that I really enjoyed.

It almost made mouthing off to her both harder and easier all at the same time, if that made any sense at all.

It made it easier because, with Rhea I knew that if I were to give into my bratty ways, it’d be safe to do so.

I knew Rhea wouldn’t ignore me, make me like I were in harm’s way, or send me off to someone else as if I were a hassle to deal with.

But it also made it harder because… I knew what being good for her would get me.

Of course, bratting was fun, under the right circumstances!

However, I knew how soft and sweet and loving Rhea could be in contrast to the harsh discipline she would inflict upon me.

And as much as I hated to admit it, I craved that.

I craved that more than the lashings with a whip or flogger, or a spanking, or any crude words she would sometimes hurl at me when things got really intense.

Rhea and I were completely in tune with each other, and it was a feeling I could really get used to it.

She knew what I needed when I needed it without me having to say a word but, when the time came, we would talk about whatever we felt needed to be addressed.

I felt heard.

Rhea knew that I didn’t brat out of disrespect, contrary to what Jacob thought.

To him, I just needed to obey, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why I sometimes wouldn’t choose to do the opposite.

He would’ve figured it out, had he just listened to me, instead of using Rhea as ‘’the bad cop’’ so to speak.

But alas… Jacob just wasn’t built that way.

Ridiculously, I always felt like a horrible Sub every time I would land back at Rhea’s doorstep, even though I tried to sit down with Jacob and explain why I did the things I did.

And I wondered if Rhea was starting to become suspicious of this whole arrangement that Jacob seemed to have decided for the three of us and I was just waiting for the moment she would finally try to get to the bottom of things.

Or worse, I wondered if she was beginning to grow tired of me as well.

That was just another code for her to crack, I suppose, because as comfortable as I was with her, the subject was just way too uncomfortable and embarrassing to talk about.

I didn’t feel much for him romantically at this point, but it still embarrassed me that he would drop me off like an unwanted pet whenever things got too hard for him.

That I had become something akin to a giant load of laundry that he just couldn’t wait to dump onto someone else…

Checking back into my conversation with Rhea, I let out a dry snort, both aimed at my thoughts and her question, but I quickly stifled it as her brow rose, expecting an answer.

‘’Umm… we don’t do that.’’ I answered, shrugging my shoulders as if the idea alone were absolutely ridiculous and unnecessary, no matter how hard my heart twisted in longing just at the thought of curling up into a ball and having Rhea cuddle my thoughts and troubles away.

That answer seemed to peak Rhea’s interest even more.

‘’You both don’t do that or just one of you?’’ And there it was.

Finally, the cat was outta the bag and I couldn’t do much to stop it from crawling its way out, faster, and faster as her gentle fingers began to rub soothing patterns against my sore wrists.

I didn’t even register the tears that were beginning to slowly stream down my cheeks until Rhea reached out and wiped one away with the pad of her thumb.

Still, she was calm.

Patient as always.

‘’I don’t want to make you feel like you have to tell me what’s going on, sweetheart. But I’m a little worried.’’ Rhea said softly, guiding me toward her bed, and I let her wrap us both in a cozy, vanilla-scented duvet.

I wrestled with myself, debating on whether or not I should unload all of my grievances onto her.

I didn’t want to put her in the middle of this but, I figured Jacob already had, by giving her the task of ‘handling me’ whenever he didn’t care to.

So, even though my bottom lip began to wobble, and my voice shook with embarrassment, I told Rhea everything.

I told her that Jacob could be quite neglectful at times.

And that he always looked at any kind of objection or playful behavior from me as pure disobedience, rather than looking at something we needed to discuss and unpack together like adults.

I knew that there was nothing ‘’adult-like’’ about bratting for the sake of being sent to someone who would treat me and listen to me better than the person who was supposed to be doing that, but I didn’t know what else to do.

My thoughts were always so frazzled and muddied around Jacob that I was beginning to crawl out of my skin every time he was near.

After I poured my heart out to Rhea and cried it all out once again, I soon fell into a deep slumber, comforted by her warmth and by the thick sheets wrapped around us.

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

‘…’She’s not a potted plant you just card off to someone else when you get tired of it, mate! And she’s not a puppet either! She’s a human being and she deserves to be cared for. To feel like she’s being heard. That is our jobs as Doms. It’s not just about bossing people around like puppets! If you knew you weren’t up to the task at hand, you had no business getting into this kind of relationship in the first place- no! I WILL tell you what to do with your relationship, ESPECIALLY when you keep sending her off to me! Are you kidding me?!… I called you to talk to you because I thought you were simply ignorant to the lifestyle. That you maybe didn’t realize you were being neglectful. But now I know that you’re just a prick taking advantage of someone who loved you and who trusted you. She’s clearly not taken care of with you… If she’ll have me? Absolutely. You should be extremely grateful that I respect HER enough to restrain myself and not-… Oh, yeah. Sure… Yeah, go fuck yourself, mate.’’

I heard slight yelling going in Rhea’s dining and for an alarming second, I thought that Jacob had physically brought his ass back over to her house, until I registered that I only heard Rhea’s furious voice.

I didn’t want to snoop, but I was worried.

And curious as well by the time the conversation ended.

‘’Ree?’’ I called out softly as I walked further into the dining room, and I met Rhea at the table.

Her hoodie-clad body didn’t move at the sound of my voice, and I reached out and placed my hand on her shoulder to call her attention again.

I could tell that her mind was racing and that she was pissed just by her posture.

Elbows rested against the table and her hands were clasped above her mouth and I instinctively untangled them, slipping my hand into hers.

Snapping out of her angry trance, she met my gaze with a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

‘’Hey… Sorry if I woke you.’’ Rhea said softly and she gave my hand an affectionate squeeze as I shrugged in response.

‘’It’s okay. What happened?’’ I asked.

I watched her rub her exhausted eyes with her free hand before she launched into a play-by-play of her entire conversation with Jacob. I wasn’t surprised at all.

And as I processed everything and as I looked at the amazing, loving, caring and powerful woman sitting with me, the decision I was about to make became clearer to me.

‘’If that’s how he wants it, then fine. This is what he does, I told you. That conversation you had with him is basically 99.9% of my own conversations with him. He talks at people, not to them.’’ I said, suddenly remembering the tail-end of their conversation that I managed to overhear.

‘’That whole ‘If she’ll have me? Absolutely’… what was that about?’’ I asked, raising a brow at the sudden blush that decorated her cheeks.

Rhea being embarrassed wasn’t a sight I saw very often, if ever, and I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.

‘’Are you avoiding this conversation, Rhea? I thought that was my thing!’’ I teased, to which she playfully rolled her eyes.

Her expression suddenly grew serious and so did mine.

Clearly things had changed between us.

And clearly, Jacob didn’t think I would actually make the decision to leave him for someone better than him.

To anyone on the outside looking in, things might seem a little faced pace, but to me it felt 1000% right.

‘’I’m not avoiding it. You heard what I said, and I meant it… I don’t wanna act like this white knight or whatnot. But you’re not a prop or some burden that he was forced to carry around and its bullshit that he made you feel that way.’’ Rhea said and I smiled at her words.

‘’So? What’re you gonna do about it, then?’’ I replied with a playful smirk on my lips.

My happiness only grew as Rhea smiled and scooted my chair closer to her, making me cringe at the noise it made on her kitchen floor.

‘’You’re gonna fuck up your floor!’’ I said.

‘’I can afford it, it’s fine.’’ Rhea said, waving my words away.

I laughed loudly as she began smattering my cheek with kisses before I wrapped my arms around and turned my cheek to press my lips against hers, humming pleasantly at the sweet taste of her.

‘’Oh, you can afford it, uh? You gonna be my sugar momma, then?’’ I joked, sighing as her lips traveled away from my lips and onto the most sensitive part of my neck.

‘’I’ll be whatever you want, sweetheart.’’ Rhea murmured, making me melt into a puddle with her words and with a fleeting nibble against my skin…

Next Chapter

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