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#if you can guess which one it is you get a prize (you don’t but I’ll be impressed)
midnights-dragon · 1 year
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@ace-catboy-ryuuzaki @sarcastictissy I have to rewatch a certain MOFY episode so I can finish a fix-it WIP with details from the episode but it makes me so upset I’m physically shaking
This is why the writers should’ve hired me idc
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in middle school during my Intense Greek Mythology Phase, Artemis was, as you can likely guess, my best girl. Iphigenia was my OTHER best girl. Yes at the same time.
The story of Iphigenia always gets to me when it's not presented as a story of Artemis being capricious and having arbitrary rules about where you can and can't hunt, but instead, making a point about war.
Artemis was, among other things--patron of hunting, wild places, the moon, singlehood--the protector of young girls. That's a really important aspect she was worshipped as: she protected girls and young women. But she was the one who demanded Agamemnon sacrifice his daughter in order for his fleet to be able to sail on for Troy.
There's no contradiction, though, when it's framed as, Artemis making Agamemnon face what he’s doing to the women and children of Troy. His children are not in danger. His son will not be thrown off the ramparts, his daughters will not be taken captive as sex slaves and dragged off to foreign lands, his wife will not have to watch her husband and brothers and children killed. Yet this is what he’s sailing off to Troy to inevitably do. That’s what happens in war. He’s going to go kill other people’s daughters; can he stand to do that to his own? As long as the answer is no—he can kill other people’s children, but not his own—he can’t sail off to war.
Which casts Artemis is a fascinating light, compared to the other gods of the Trojan War. The Trojan War is really a squabble of pride and insults within the Olympian family; Eris decided to cause problems on purpose, leaving Aphrodite smug and Hera and Athena snubbed, and all of this was kinda Zeus’s fault in the first place for not being able to keep it in his pants. And out of this fight mortal men were their game pieces and mortal cities their prizes in restoring their pride. And if hundreds of people die and hundred more lives are ruined, well, that’s what happens when gods fight. Mortals pay the price for gods’ whims and the gods move on in time and the mortals don’t and that’s how it is.
And women especially—Zeus wanted Leda, so he took her. Paris wanted Helen, so he took her. There’s a reason “the Trojan women” even since ancient times were the emblems of victims of a war they never wanted, never asked for, and never had a say in choosing, but was brought down on their heads anyway.
Artemis, in the way of gods, is still acting through human proxies. But it seems notable to me to cast her as the one god to look at the destruction the war is about to wreak on people, and challenge Agamemnon: are you ready to kill innocents? Kill children? Destroy families, leave grieving wives and mothers? Are you? Prove it.
It reminds me of that idea about nuclear codes, the concept of implanting the key in the heart of one of the Oval Office staffers who holds the briefcase, so the president would have to stab a man with a knife to get the key to launch the nukes. “That’s horrible!,” it’s said the response was. “If he had to do that, he might never press the button!” And it’s interesting to see Artemis offering Agamemnon the same choice. You want to burn Troy? Kill your own daughter first. Show me you understand what it means that you’re about to do.
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mellowsaturns · 1 year
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in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)
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BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER
summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.
warnings: heavy angst, one sided enemies-to-lovers-ish, hydra!assassin!reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending, brainwashing, trauma, guns & knives, fighting, implied kidnapping of reader when young, all the feels, misunderstandings, poor attempt at writing action
wc: 4.7k
a/n: sorry it’s been forever but i hope my fellow buckyluvrs are still here <3 i actually wrote this a long time ago but never got around to editing until recently so i guess you can say this is (from the vault) ? inspired by the idea: what-if there was another winter soldier and bucky finds himself in steve’s position this time trying to get you back to him. anyways, i hope you enjoy this one :)
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Bucky’s life was a never ending montage of gunfire and bloodshed. It didn’t matter if he was under the clutches of someone else, he still lived through the wars—the lingering smell of smoke and tang of metallic forever ingrained in his senses.
And just when he thought it was finally over—a glimmer of peace at last—it comes and steals that dream away from him.
Like deja-vu, he’s looking at faces that were once responsible for his pain.
On the screen, three Hydra officers stare back at him. All faces identified by Tony’s system. Alive. Last seen in the outskirts of some small country in Europe. Irrelevant low ranking officials that had managed to survive the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and have been hiding and secretly continuing Hydra’s mission underground ever since. Low officials or not, it was one too many.
Bucky freezes in his spot when Tony swipes the screen. The billionaire goes on a rant saying this particular face cannot be identified, which was according to Tony, bullshit because his face recognition system is the best in the world. The rest of the team is arguing and flipping through countless files and internet archives. But Bucky knows. He knows that face and those haunting eyes that he still sees in his dreams.
“Buck,” a voice calls out. “You know her, don’t you?”
He looks up at Steve from his spot, his best friend's face worried and all knowing.
One thing about Hydra was that they were always prepared. They had backups and multiple plans ready, or else how would two heads take its place when one was cut off? Unfortunately for the world, Hydra managed to make another deadly assassin, one whose work was so discreet and nimble that even intelligence didn't know they existed.
You were a ghost story that lived in the shadows of the Winter Soldier. You were another one of Hydra’s prize possessions—less known, but just as deadly.
With Steve’s comment, all eyes are now on Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air and he gulps before he confesses, “I wasn’t the only one.”
The room becomes tense. The war that they thought was over suddenly looms over like an unpredicted oncoming storm. “Jesus Christ, Barnes. You couldn’t have informed us about her earlier?” says Tony.
“I thought,” he says, shifting his eyes onto the ground, “I thought she fell with S.H.I.E.L.D.”
Bucky couldn’t find you anywhere after he escaped their grasp. After he joined the Avengers, he tried once again secretly using Tony’s technology but it was to no avail—it always ended up being a dead end. And for that, he assumed Hydra had put you out of your misery the day they were caught.
But the face on the screen says otherwise. And suddenly, Bucky feels very guilty.
Steve clears his throat, “Well, they were picked up not too long ago heading north. If we leave now, we might be able to find them and stop them once and for all.”
Everyone looks at each other, debating on his proposal. “What the Captain said. Everybody, suit up. Quinjet leaves in ten,” says Tony.
On the jet, Bucky stares off into space but countless questions run through his mind.
Steve walks over and sits beside him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, voice quiet.
Bucky sighs, “I just… I thought she was gone.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”
He looks up, wondering if he should tell Steve the truth. That he’s not brooding about the fact that he concealed you to them. After a moment, Bucky speaks up. “When we get there, let me handle her. Please.”
Steve didn’t know what kind of history Bucky had with you. But judging from the look his best-friend is giving, it’s more than what Steve could understand or even comprehend but he trusts Bucky and so, he gives him a nod. “She’s all yours.”
After scouting the area and tracing the location to a very hidden underground warehouse in the middle of nowhere, they split up. The warehouse was dark and dusty, surely abandoned, but Bucky knew better—it was their facade behind the most sinister of activities. Through the comms, Natasha announces that she has already taken care of all the troops in the West wing. Moments later, Sam reports that he has eliminated one of the Hydra officers. They wouldn’t last long. Hydra didn’t have much resources or time to rebuild—their current empire was weak, they were no match for the Avengers this time.
The only person Bucky’s truly worried about is you. The fact that he trained you, made you into what you were today already gave him the chills. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he was certain that you were still in that killer mindset that Hydra forced upon you.
Step by step, Bucky walks through the quiet hallway, the echoes of his footsteps the only noise. It’s cold here, he notices, which gives him flashbacks to those days in his dirty cell and the cryostasis chamber. Down a hallway to the next, round a corner and another, there wasn’t a single soul in the eerily Eastern wing.
But he spoke too soon, because seconds later, a garrote wire was around his neck. The swift invisible steps and the perfect pressure that was being used to quickly cut off his air supply was all too familiar. He knows this move, he taught this move. You’re here, and you’re dragging him backwards.
Before all oxygen gets cut off to his brain, he jabs his elbow backwards and hits you hard on the rib which releases the hold you have on him and sends you stumbling back. Bucky takes a moment to regain his breath but you’re on your feet again. He looks at you and for a moment he freezes, then you let out a sinister grin. “Nice to see you again, Soldat,” you taunt, before running towards him.
Bucky’s deflecting your punches one after another. Maybe he’s glad he was the one who taught you everything you know because your moves were predictable—if it were another person, there is no doubt they would’ve been on the ground with multiple concussions bleeding out already. You’re ruthless when you do a triple roundhouse kick on him. On the fourth one, he manages to catch your leg and twists it, sending you to the ground with a groan.
How familiar this scene was, Bucky thinks.
Some forty-years ago, Hydra brought a woman into the training room. There was no further instruction than to train you and that’s what he did. He could tell you were well trained already—compliant and pliable. You were good. And you were just like him, injected with a serum that made you a hundred times more efficient and stronger. In just under a year, Hydra would start sending you on missions. Sometimes with him, sometimes alone.
During training, the both of you would spar for hours, leaving each other bloody and bruised, but it didn’t matter to the overlookers, the both of you would heal in a few hours anyways.
Once you pick yourself back up, he pulls a gun out on you. “Stop this,” he commands.
You smirk, “You going to shoot me, Soldat? I want to see you try.”
He clenches his jaw. You continue to look at him, a dark look on your face that shows no sign of true recognition.
His thoughts are disrupted when you tackle him onto the ground. You kick his gun away and pin his arms down as you straddle him. “I’m going to kill you,” you declare, “I’m going to put a bullet through your head.”
When he looks up at you, your eyes are full of rage. Bucky doesn’t know whether that’s the brainwashed version of you talking or the actual you talking—maybe both.
“What are you going to do after you kill me?” he says, irritated. C’mon, please recognize me. “This is all that remains of Hydra. Half the troops are already dead. One of your new leaders is dead. In a few hours, Hydra will be no more. What will you do after that? What are you going to do after you kill me?”
“What does it matter? You’re my mission. I’m going to finish it.”
He groans at your stubbornness that was identical to his Soldier persona.
He says your name slowly. “Get off. You can walk away from this.”
You frown, but he continues, “I know how you feel. You’re feeling helpless.” He clears his throat, “There’s someone behind this version of you. I want to talk to her.”
“What are you talking about?” you utter in annoyance. “Stop stalling.”
He says that name again, with calamity and care. You want to rip out his tongue.
“Let me talk to her. Please.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” you shout, grabbing for the gun that’s strapped onto your waist. “Stop talkin–”
“I was in the cell next to yours. You liked the colour green. You were wearing white when we first met. You always wanted to visit Bucharest. You hated the leaky cold showers in the Siberian facility,” he rambles, trying to remember every single thing about you in a desperate attempt to get your attention so this version of you won’t shoot him in the face.
And for a moment, it works because your hand freezes on the grip of your gun. He takes that moment to flip you over, so you’re under him now, hands pinned above your head. He takes your gun and throws it behind him.
You snarl at him while trying to escape his grasp. “I know you’re under there,” he says. “Please, come through. Please talk to me.”
Your face scrunches in pain, not from him—he would never hurt you—but from the mental warfare that’s currently going on in your mind. You close your eyes as he speaks again. “Listen to my voice, you know me, don’t you? мой милая.”
My darling.
For a moment, your entire body tenses up and then you let out a painful breath. When your eyelids start to flutter open, he finally sees the eyes he came to know and rely on—eyes he came to love.
The both of you are looking at each other unblinking. A scene neither of you expected but always dreamt about.
You break the silence with a whisper of, “James?”
Bucky slowly nods at your disbelief. Finally, he thinks. But such respite doesn’t last long, because seconds later, you hook your foot under his and flip him over and escape his grasp.
There's darkness in your eyes and he can tell that the Soldate is back and the fighting resumes.
You’re chasing him down the twisting hallway and when you catch up, you grab his shoulder and throw a punch to his jaw. He stumbles back and then a voice comes through the comms.
“Just took down the second one.” Steve. “Bucky, how are you holding up? You’ve been quiet ever since we split up.”
He’s trying his best to block your hand, which now has a damn pocket knife. Your quick movements are starting to tire him out. Maybe he taught you too well, he thinks.
“Buck? Bucky. Confirm your status, right now.”
Groaning in frustration, he taps his earpiece. “I’m fine,” he grunts. A second later, “Shit!” he huffs out as you nearly slice his face.
“You don’t sound fine. Is she with you? I’m sending back up.”
“No!” he says, “Don’t send anyone. I can handle her.”
In truth, he’s struggling right now—your stamina has always been better than his—but he’s worried that you’re going to accidentally get hurt and even more agitated when people appear. His main priority was keeping you safe. Fuck the mission statement they talked about back on the Quinjet.
You’re angry—no, you’re extremely angry at him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell. It’s a mixture of pure rage from both the brainwashed and actual you.
He supposed he deserved it. You should be angry. Because for the longest time, it was you and him.
Other than turning you into a ruthless assassin just like him, an unexpected companionship also formed during those hazy in-between moments when the two of you weren’t frozen or on the metal chair getting fried by those machines—during the times when he was just Bucky and you were just you, two unfortunate innocent souls that shared the same suffering.
They weren’t pleasant moments. It was dehumanising. It was getting shoved into draughty cells with nothing but a blanket until it was time to train or time to embark on a mission. Luckily, your cells were next to each other and it made the endless nights a little more bearable. He was a little off-putting at first, but when he yelled at you to stop crying because they would torture you even more for it, you knew he meant well.
During your shared time together, glimpses of your true selves would seldom come up and you would tell each other about the little bits and pieces of a life once known. And the both of you would hold onto each other's memories and stories in case the other forgets.
And whenever they prep the two of you for the chamber due to there being no current missions for the time being, the two of you would look at each other—a look of longing with the secret squeezing of each other's hand before going under.
Despite the absolute awful situation the two of you were in at the time, the both of you were hopeful for the next shared moments together. Because even when all hope was gone, you had each other. And that was good enough for the two of you.
He misses you. So damn much.
“Shut up,” you mutter.
He didn’t even realise he said it outloud. “Well, I do,” he admits, his back hitting a wall.
“You talk too much, Soldat,” you say, creeping up on him. “I ought to cut your throat.”
“I’m sorry I left you with them.”
You halt in your steps and your jaw ticks. In a second, you pounce on him, your knife against his throat. He’s gripping your hand to stop you from continuing your job.
He says your name again. You’re pushing but he’s pushing back just as hard. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “I’m so sorry.”
The desperation in his voice… You glance up at him slowly and he sees the pink forming in your eyes and your trembling lips. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?” you whisper.
He sees the internal war behind your eyes once again. Bucky gulps for a moment before letting go of your hand, trusting that you won’t do any actual harm, and moves his hands so he’s cupping your face, firm enough so you’re forced to look at him. You look into his eyes for a second, then a minute, and for a moment, everything stops. Your breath hitches, because those eyes… those arctic blues… you know them. You fell in love with them many years ago.
A realisation washes over your face, one that Bucky doesn’t miss. You’re back.
The first tear falls. Then the second. “Bucky.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.
You let out a small cry before you press the blade harder against his neck, your grip a vice from his betrayal. He could feel the sharp cold metal pierce through his skin ever so slightly, but he doesn’t try and stop you.
“Give me a reason to not kill you right now,” you grit through tears. “You left me. You left me behind to rot alone. You promised me. You fucking promised,” you say, voice laced with venom and so much hurt.
Bucky’s heart breaks at the sadness of your voice. Because he did promise. There wasn’t much to do in the cells other than throw around false hope. But whenever he told you he was going to escape one day and that he was going to take you with him—it didn’t feel like false promises at all because it wasn’t, and you knew it too.
Until he broke that promise and left you all alone.
“I didn’t mean to,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with them.”
“I waited for you,” you cry. “Day and night I waited for you to come back. Even when they relocated, I waited for you because I knew you’d find me.”
You remember that day clearly. Everyone was in a frenzy when the death of Alexander Pierce broke out and that they could not locate the Soldat. For a moment, you could taste your own freedom because government officials would come anytime now and finally arrest all these criminals. But right when they came, a few Hydra officers managed to escape and took you with them, and when you woke up, you didn’t know where the hell you were. But even then you didn’t lose hope because James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the name you committed to memory, was going to come for you just like he promised.
Until days, months, and eventually, a year came with no sign of him.
You were angry at first, but it slowly turned into worry because what if something bad had happened to him? But what do you know? You were stuck in this building and only went out whenever they spoke those trigger words to you. And you were always under their watchful eyes, giving you no chance to even attempt an escape. Surely he would never break his promise to you so something must’ve happened to him, you told yourself multiple times.
But he was standing here right in front of you. Alive. We’re under attack, your handler said to you moments ago, Kill the Soldat before he kills you.
“You’re a liar. You never cared about me,” you hiss.
Sometimes, it got too much. But whenever reality was a bit too hard to endure, Bucky was there, always reaching his hand out to you through the metal cage, which you took and held tight. And it meant the world to you, that someone cared.
“All those moments, did it even mean anything to you?”
He uses this opportunity to pull your arms down slightly, knife finally away from his neck and his eyes start to sting from his own tears. “They meant everything to me. I care about you.”
You look up at him with a defeated expression and Bucky never wanted to punch himself in the face more. “Then why? Why didn’t you come back for me?”
“I did,” he chokes out. “When I escaped, the first thing I did was go back for you, but the facility had already been raided and there was no one there. I checked every inch of the building.”
Bucky had never felt so scared, because what if the government took you too? They would never understand—framing you as a villain even though that was far from the truth. But there was no news of your capture, so with a breath of relief, Bucky continued to look through other known Hydra facilities.
“I tried my best looking for you, but I also had to be careful because I was a wanted man at the time. When months passed by and there were no clues, I thought that maybe you had escaped. I was in Bucharest waiting for you. Remember how you said you always wanted to go there? I knew that if you escaped, you’d find me there. Even when you didn’t show, I never gave up. Steve… I think I told you about him once—he found me, he helped me and cleared my name. After that, I still searched for you but it all ended up being dead ends. And…” he pauses for a moment, “and so I thought you were dead. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”
He had mourned you and blamed himself endlessly for it.
He knows he should’ve asked for help, but instead, he took this task upon himself until it got too much—because that was the one thing he struggled with the most, asking for help.
When his side of the story finally comes to light, you break into a sob. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, “but please, drop the weapon and let me help you.”
You swallow hard at his confession. He never stopped looking for you. You didn’t even consider how hard it must’ve been for him after everything and yet you’re lashing out on him.
“How are you going to help me?” you say. “I’m a mess. All you have to do is say those words and I turn into a weapon.”
Twelve. Ember. Fragment. Nine. Academy. Order. Frigid. Yearning. Blue.
Those were your trigger words.
“I got you out of your trance, didn’t I?” he says with a gentle smile.
Hydra needed you to rebuild their empire and they relied on those nine words to do so. To them, those nine words were your greatest weakness but one of them, the last one, the one they liked to spit out in vexation, was also your greatest strength—your salvation.
Blue.
You think back, moments prior, when all he had to do was use his voice and all you had to do was look into the blues of his eyes. Hydra can repeat those words all they want, but Bucky would always be able to bring you back.
At that, your grip relaxes and the knife finally drops onto the floor, it’s noise ricocheting off the walls.
“There’s a place called Wakanda and I know someone there who can help you. Her name’s Ayo and she’s amazing. She helped me overcome my words.”
He brings his hands back up to cradle your face and you shutter at the familiar touch—at the calluses on his palms. “And I think you’ll like it there. It’s quiet and there’s so much… green.”
You let out a small laugh through your tears but doubt still fills your mind. “But… all the things I did,” you whimper, “I did such terrible unforgivable things. There’s… there’s so much blood on my hands.”
Sadness flares around his heart. It was all so familiar. He knows the feeling.
“It’s not going to be easy. God knows how long it took for me to believe that none of it was my fault. But let me be the first one to tell you,” he says, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “None of what you did was your fault. You were a victim.” He swallows a deep breath, “There are going to be days where it’ll be too much too bear and there are going to be nights where all those casualties will haunt you,” he admits. “But… but you’ll get there. Someday, you’ll learn to stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.”
And he vows that he’ll help you every step of the way.
You breathe out slowly, digesting all his words. “You can trust me,” he tells you, “I won’t let you down this time. I’ll be here.”
Blinking up at him, the small hesitant part of you so desperately wanted to say, “How can I trust you?” but his eyes were telling you everything you needed to know. Because it was filled with nothing but honour and truth.
He breaks away from you and reaches out his hand. An invitation. You stare at it for a while, then you slowly lift yours and brush your fingers amongst his before grabbing it tightly—a truce of sorts, a promise. He squeezes back in return, a loving smile on his face, just like all those nights many moonlights ago.
Your breath hitches when he pulls you into his embrace, your face burying perfectly into the valley of his chest. He wraps his arms around you in urgency, in fear, almost afraid you’ll slip out if he doesn’t.
“It’s over,” he mumbles into your hair.
Because two floors down an explosion erupts, finishing off the last remaining garrison of troops. Three hallways down, Natasha sets fire to a room that contained the other small red leather book that held those nine suffocating words written in Russian. Outside, the last Hydra officer attempting to flee falls to his knees from an arrow to the chest. And the only hope they had left to rebuild their regime was safely in Bucky’s arms.
He pulls away and uses his thumb to rub gently across your cheek, “It’s over. The war is finally over.”
Now that the worst is over, Bucky’s hopeful. There will be other conflicts to come, that was just how it worked, but this one, the one that held you and him underwater for years was finally over. War always took too much, but this time, it gave something back. Because among the ashes and ruins you came back to him, no more oceans in between.
“What do we do now?” you press nervously. You were taken at a young age and spent years in the Red Room before you were sold off to Hydra. Like Bucky, you’re in the wrong time period, there’s no one to go back to.
There’s so many things you could do, Bucky thinks. You can finally start living the life you deserved, the life that was taken from you too early. He’ll have to explain all this to his teammates but he knows they’ll understand. They treated him so well, there’s no doubt they’ll show the same kindness for you. Then, he’ll go with you to Wakanda, get rid of the words, maybe stay there for a while so you could heal—maybe show you the goats he took care of during his time there.
You’ll probably adjust to the 21st century better than him—you won’t need to start off with a flip phone, that’s for sure. He’ll make you listen to all the great records and watch all the movies you missed out on. There’s so many things he wanted to do with you. He knows you have no memories, no recollection. It didn’t matter, Bucky thinks, he would make new memories with you, ones worth cherishing and remembering. If you’ll have him, of course.
But first and most importantly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about it,” he says, rubbing the grime off your nose.
He grabs your hand and heads for the exit. But before he does, you pick up your knife from the floor and in one quick motion, you spin around and throw it. The knife embeds itself into the wall a few metres away, right next to a prying face. You stand in front of Bucky and stare at the intruder with a murderous gaze and Bucky’s heart races at the thought of you still wanting to protect him after everything.
The blond raises his arms up in surrender.
“Steve,” Bucky says from behind and you briefly recognize that name. You turn around to look at him and he meets your eyes, nodding. You relax your stance.
“Hi,” Steve says, voice slightly hoarse. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
Bucky scoffs at him, as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.
Steve looks at the both of you, then a gentle smile adorns his face. “C’mon, the rest are waiting outside for you both.”
You step forward. This is it. Freedom. A new life. Bucky notices your hesitation as you suddenly stop in your tracks. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes with reassurance. You take a deep breath, then the two of you follow Steve to the exit, leaving behind the smoke and memories of your old life.
Outside, the sun comes up slowly but surely on the horizon, painting the awakening sky a gentle warm hue of oranges and pinks.
A new beginning awaits.
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freedomfireflies · 4 months
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Birthday Boy*
Summary: An extra for 404*
The one where Harry doesn't celebrate his birthday but he loves to celebrate you.
Word Count: 2.3k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, anal play, brief Daddy kink, breeding kink
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“What the fuck am I doing here?”
You grin as you widen the door and motion him inside. “Just shut up and come in.”
“…why?”
“Harry.”
He huffs but does oblige, slipping the hood from his head while glancing around. “I thought you didn’t want me coming over here anymore.”
“I don’t,” you agree. “But this is a special circumstance.”
“Yeah? And why's that?”
You merely smile. “You’ll see. Sit.”
He glances at your sofa before nodding his chin toward the bedroom. “Here or there?”
“Here. You don’t deserve to go in there.”
“Funny.” He slumps down onto the cushions and tosses arms over the back of the couch. “Now what?”
Your hand disappears into your pocket as you approach him from behind. “We’re gonna play a game.”
“A game?”
“A game. I…am gonna blindfold you,” you tell him as you slip his glasses off and hover dark fabric over his head. “And you…are going to guess what I put in your hand.”
You wait a beat before settling it over his eyes, just to make sure he’s all right with your proposition.
And of course, he smirks. “Okay,” he agrees and you fasten the knot. “And what do I get if I guess correctly?"
“A prize.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” You walk back around the couch and stand in front of his knees. “And if you guess wrong, then I’ll be claiming the prize for myself. And you can just watch.”
His lips curl up into a wicked grin. “Deal.” He extends his hand. “Let’s go.”
This is where the game gets tricky. In order to give him the object, you have to retrieve it first. Which means stripping down completely.
So, you do. You peel off your shirt and your jeans and your scandalously tiny panties and toss them into a pile on the floor.
And then…you step closer.
You swing your leg over his hip, and then the other, and drop yourself onto his lap. He’s already grinning, likely having guessed that you removed your clothes, and he’s endlessly intrigued.
You take his hands and bring them to your chest. Allowing him to squeeze and grope the warm, sensitive flesh at his disposal as he bites back a larger grin and pretends to think.
“These…” he hums, “these are those beautiful fucking tits I love to suck on so much, aren’t they?”
“Mhm.” You move his hands down your stomach and place them on your waist.
“And these…” He kneads them gently. “These are those perfect hips I love to hold when I fuck into you.”
“Uh-huh.” You slide his large palms down to your thighs.
“Oh, these,” he nearly groans. “These are the fucking thighs I love to have squeezing my head when you sit on my face. When you cum all over my tongue and make a mess of me. A tasty fucking mess.”
You smirk and move him toward your ass now.
And he curses to himself before he’s taking hold of each cheek and tugging—hard. “And this…this is the ass that looks so pretty when it’s all red and tender from taking my punishment, yeah? The one that looks so fucking good in my hand? Bouncing on my cock?”
“Mhm…and one more guess,” you tell him before you take his hands and move them between the cheeks of your ass.
And that’s when he feels it.
You watch him swallow. Watch the way his jaw ticks and his lips part. The way he fights the urge to yank the covering from his eyes and see for himself.
“Tink…”
“Yes, Harry?”
“…is that a butt plug?”
You grin wildly as you move your lips to his ear. “Happy birthday.”
In seconds, he’s ripping off the blindfold and taking a proper look at you. He’s surprised and you feel proud. “How the fuck did you know?”
“What, you think you’re the only one who can hack into Prescott’s computer and read a file?” 
He blinks before he’s leaning back and allowing his eyes to travel down the length of your naked body still settled on his lap. “Well…fuck.”
“Yeah.” You laugh. “And what better way to celebrate, right? Go ahead. Admit it. I’m an incredible gift giver.”
For the first time since you’ve known him, he seems…stunned. Eerily quiet and it’s almost unnerving. He holds your body but not in the greedy way he was before. Now he’s…almost reverent. Confused.
“I…I don’t really celebrate my birthday,” he finally admits. “Anymore, I mean. I…you didn’t have to do this.”
Your chest aches but you wave him off. “It’s just anal, calm down. I’m not throwing you a fucking party or anything.”
He exhales a gentle chuckle. “Still, you didn’t…I mean, I didn’t expect anything.”
“Good. You shouldn’t.” You both smile. “Because this doesn’t change anything. I still hate you. I just…thought it would be a fun thing to do. So you wouldn’t have to be alone.”
Now he understands and the room suddenly feels so small. You figured he wouldn’t be celebrating his birthday this year. And you’d realized you’d never seen him celebrate before. And then…you figured out why.
Her. 
You didn’t want him to go back to his empty apartment and be alone. You didn’t want him to have to pretend like this was just another day or drown himself in the memory of her.
You wanted to distract him. Give him a reason to enjoy himself. Celebrate his birth. Even if it was with you.
He sighs now as he pulls you closer. Squeezing your ass again before kissing the space between your breasts. “Well…other than the fact that you disobeyed me, this is really thoughtful.”
“I’m sorry…what?”
He nods once and you recognize that sadistic gleam in his eye. “How did you get this pretty little plug in, hm?”
Oh. “I…I put it in.”
“Uh-huh. How?”
“How do you think?”
He spanks you. Firm. The sound is sharp and it echoes through your apartment as you jolt. “Don’t be fucking smart, Princess. When I ask you a question…you answer it. Is that understood?”
You bite your lip. “I touched myself and then I put it in.”
“Mm.” He kisses over your nipple and up to your shoulder. “And do you realize how that was disobeying me?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “In all fairness, it would have ruined the surprise if I fucking told you.”
He spanks you again. Harder this time. Painful. And your insides are on fire in the best possible way. “No. You won’t speak to me like that today. Will you?”
You shake your head. “No.”
“Good girl. What are you gonna do instead?”
“…I’m gonna give you your prize.”
He grins. “That’s fucking right. Turn around.”
You do. You stand from his lap and allow him to pull you apart until he can get a glimpse of the pretty toy inside.
And you can’t help but feel pleased with the way he exhales a tortured groan at the sight. “Fucking shit, Tinkerbell. Look at you…s’all for me, huh?”
You nod, even if he can’t really see you. “Yes.”
“Just wanted to be good to me, yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Wanted me to have a perfect present?”
You nod again and fight a shiver when you feel him run his finger over the tip. “Want you to have whatever you want.”
He makes another noise. “And you’re sure you could take it, baby? Sure you wouldn’t mind me playing with such a pretty little hole?”
“Please,” you breathe. “I can take it. I promise. Want to.”
He squeezes your hips. “And do you think you deserve it after disobeying me?”
“Yes…yes, please…please.”
“Hm. Maybe you do,” he admits. “Just this once. After being so sweet to me. Bet it’s killed you to have to be so nice, huh?”
You smile. “Kind of. You are the fucking worst.”
Another spank and you both make a desperate sound this time. He likes to watch the way your skin ripples beneath his hand. The way it reddens, the way it grows warm to the touch. And maybe you like it, too.
“We’ll start slow, yeah?” he says and gently begins to ease the toy out. “Just gonna give you my finger for now. Maybe next time we can do more—”
“Harry—”
His palm meets your ass again and you jump. “Tink, don’t argue with me. M’not gonna hurt you on my birthday. S’not fair very to me.”
Your eyes roll but you’re grinning. “Yeah, okay. But any other day you don’t mind?”
“Exactly.” 
“Mm.” You sneak a glance over your shoulder. “Harry?”
“Yeah, Princess?”
“…are we okay?”
The sneaky touches stop as he turns you a bit so he can see you clearly. “What? Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I don’t know. I mean…this doesn’t cross a line or anything?”
Instantly, he removes his hands from your body. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable—”
“No, not that,” you correct quickly. “I mean…I mean me inviting you here and doing all this for your birthday. I just…I know we have a rule about not getting too personal and this kind of breaks it, but—”
“Tink.” He holds you again but only to capture your attention and bring you to a stop. “Why do you think I’m here?”
“Because when I call, you come running?”
He smirks and smacks your thigh. “No. I’m here because I want to be here. We make our own rules. We decide what we’re comfortable with. Yeah, it’s a little more personal than it was before but that’s okay. Because I couldn’t very well fuck your ass in the office, now, could I?”
You laugh.
“We’re okay,” he assures you. “More than okay. Nothing is gonna change how much I hate you. I promise.”
And it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard.
So, you turn back around and allow his large hands to run up and down your body in appreciation. He soaks in every inch of your skin. Every curve and mark and scar. He truly holds you like a prize and when he finally kicks your feet apart and slips his finger up your cunt and toward your ass…you’re gone.
“Breathe,” he instructs, and you do. “And tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I will.”
With this assurance, he eases the tip of his finger in your tighter hole and it’s oddly more satisfying than you expected. Sure, the plug had somewhat prepared you but this…
“Shit,” you whisper and he stills. 
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s…I like it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s…it’s really good.”
You can’t see him but you can picture his smile. “Good. Keep breathing, yeah? And try to relax for me, baby. S’gonna hurt if you don’t.”
You exhale slowly and allow your muscles to unwind. Giving him room to push in a bit further while his other hand strokes your hip.
“Doing so good, Tink,” he says. “God, you really would take my cock, wouldn’t you? Look so fucking pretty, all stretched out and needy.”
The image and lewd way he speaks nearly makes your knees give out, but he keeps you upright.
“Bet it’d look so sweet…dripping with my cum,” he murmurs as he pumps his finger a bit faster. “Bet you’d let me cum anywhere I wanted, wouldn’t you? Let me fill this cute little belly with all my kids—”
“Shit,” you say again and he hums.
“You think about it, don’t you? Think about the way it’d feel. The way your body would look…holding me inside—"
“God…fuck, Harry—”
“S’what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? Wanna see your pretty tits get fuller, see your tummy filled with my babies—”
Your chin drops to your chest and you’re moments from slipping away. “Ha…Harry—”
“I know.” He’s fucking into you faster now, and even though it’s only one finger, it feels like ecstasy. A fullness you never imagined. “I know, baby. Maybe for my next birthday, yeah? Get you pregnant then.”
The reemergence of the breeding kink isn’t one you anticipated and yet, it leaves you enthralled. Even if you know you’ll likely never act on it.
But just when you’re beginning to settle into it, he’s suddenly retracting his hand and spinning you back around. You’re tugged onto the sofa, back first, without a moment of reprieve before he’s slotting himself between your thighs. And this time when his fingers find you…there’s four. 
Two in your pussy…and two in your ass.
You arch from the couch and he’s relentless. Swallowing your gasps with greedy kisses and letting the sounds of your arousal echo through the room like an orchestra. 
It’s beautiful and he’s beautiful. Even without his glasses, he’s the aggravatingly attractive man you’ve come to tolerate. And he’s so incredibly good at fucking into you like this. Abusing you and treating you all with the same hand. 
And when you cum, you cum twice as hard.
This is his real present. This look on your face. The feel of your body clenching around him and he enjoys every fucking second of it.
He lets you throw an arm around his shoulders and tug him into your embrace. He lets you hold him and indulge in him and keep him in you for as long as possible.
“Shit,” you say for a third time and he laughs into your neck.
“Anal’s fun, right?”
“Fuck. Yeah. Maybe you were right.”
“I’m always right.”
“…wrong.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You aren’t gonna argue with me on my birthday, are you? Cause me and my cock will go right home and leave you here, wet and desperate.”
Your nose scrunches but you laugh and lightly push him away. “God, you’re annoying. I forgot for a second with that post-orgasm bliss but thank god you’re consistent.”
He grins. Smug. “If you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask nicely.”
“Yeah…no.”
“Tink.”
“Daddy.”
The sadistic gleam returns. “Don’t test me, baby. I might have been nice, but I can think of plenty of other ways to have fun that won’t exactly be fun for you.”
And you want to test him, you do. 
But today is his day. So you decide that you might as well let him win…just this once.
“Fine,” you concede before offering him your most innocent pout. “Please, Daddy…will you fuck my ass?”
And the look on his face…makes it absolutely worth it.
“Turn around.”
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!! Thanks for always being so kind and such a beacon of hope and light for so many!!! 💞💞💞💞
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1K notes · View notes
bedsyandco · 9 months
Text
𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐒
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🫧 — {fem!reader x jack hughes}
🫧 — established relationsip! set a few years in the future. Reader and Jack are married! Reader is pregnant! Kind of set in Jack's POV I guess.
🫧 — in which Jack's wife is pregnant and a little emotional.
WC — 1.5K
"Babe” Jack whispers.
“Hm?”
“Can you scoot over a bit?” he asks
“I’m on the edge”
He looks over his shoulder, right at the face of his beautiful wife.
“Babe, I find that hard to believe,”
“What?” you ask, a little disoriented.
“There’s no way you’re on the edge when your face is pressed into my back, your legs are tangled with mine and our child is kicking me in the back.”
“But I am,”
“You’re not,” Jack argues.
“You scoot over,”
“I can’t. I’m on the edge of our California King bed that you insisted we get because you didn’t want to touch during the night because you always get too hot. Yet, you’re laying on top of me,”
“I am not,” you complain, nuzzling closer, if that were possible. “Shh go to sleep.”
Jack sighs loudly and says, “I can’t. You’re too hot and our child is kicking me in the back.”
“Yeah well, welcome to my world buddy. Can you stop talking? I'm tired.” you say.
Usually Jack wouldn’t care. He’d deal with it because he loved you and he wanted you to be comfortable, but he needed to get up early tomorrow morning and he really needed a good night’s sleep. Jack was beyond stressed. It felt like he was always 2 seconds away from having a panic attack.
His constant worry about you was driving him insane, but then he also had hockey to think about. The Devils had just lost in the third round of the playoffs. They were so close. Jack wanted nothing more than to win and hold that cup up. But then he realised he was about to hold his baby, and that was an even greater prize.
That was if he didn’t kill you first.
Turning over, you glared at him as he popped his head on one arm, looking over her to the amount of space behind you. “Baby, we could literally fit all my teammates beside you,”
“What does that mean?” you ask frowning
“I’m saying scoot the hell over!” he says, his voice rising. “You’re burning me up!”
“I want to sleep with you,”
“You are, but just give me some space so I don’t die of heatstroke!”
“Ugh, fine.” you say annoyed and rolled over to the other side of the bed.
Jack sighs, shaking his head and lays back down. He could finally breathe, but just as he’s about to fall asleep you say, “I just think it’s messed up that you won’t cuddle with me and I’m carrying your child, which is the reason I’m burning up!”
Jack opens his eyes and takes a deep breath. Here they go again.
“Sweetheart, I love cuddling with you. But I have to be up early to do press and clean out my locker. I can’t sleep through that and I definitely can’t sleep with you burning me up and our child kicking me the whole night. I love you though, you know that right?” Jack asks, looking over at you with a soft smile.
But you were glaring, lips pursed as you glared at him. “Oh yeah, I forgot it’s so hard being Jack Hughes and you need all the sleep you can get. While I can’t sleep a certain way due to the fact that it hurts because I’m the thing your child is sucking the life out of.”
“I thought you loved being pregnant.”
“I do!” you yell and his brows go up. “That’s not the point. I’m just reminding you that I don’t get to sleep or do any of the things that I wanna do anymore, but it’s fine. I’ll sleep all the way over here without the love and support from my husband because he needs to get some sleep. God forbid you don’t get any sleep.” you mumble and Jack wants to laugh. You were being ridiculous. But before he could tell you that, you look over to him and say, “And just a friendly reminder Jack Hughes, when this baby comes, say fucking good-bye to sleep.”
“I guess I should say good-bye to sleep now, because I’m sure as hell not getting any more tonight,” Jack says, holding your gaze.
Your eyes darken a little and Jack swears he’s never seen anyone as beautiful as his wife. Even when you’re a little crazy, hostile, and 7 months pregnant, you were still hot as fuck.
“You got that right, I just wanted to cuddle,” you say rolling away from him again.
When Jack hears you sniff he can’t help but smile. The emotional rollercoaster of a pregnant wife was no joke. Reaching out, he went to cuddle with you, but you smack his hand away.
“I don’t wanna cuddle now,” you mutter
“Fine,” Jack sighs, falling back onto his own pillow. Sometimes he just really couldn't win with you.
“I just want you to know, I did want to cuddle. But that’s gone now.”
“I hear you.” Jack replies.
“And I’m very upset.”
“I got that.” he says with a sigh, rolling on his side to look at you.
“I just don’t think it’s fair. I cook, I clean, I work. And I’m carrying your child.”
“And I appreciate you more than words can ever say.” Jack says sincerely.
“Then you'd cuddle with me!” you say exasperated.
“But baby, I need sleep too. And you’re literally a furnace.”
“Well if you need sleep so badly and I’m too hot and our baby won’t stop kicking you then go sleep somewhere else!” you yell
“Seriously?”
“Yes! Go to the couch”
Surely you were joking. But then you yank the covers off him and pull his pillow from under him, throwing both on the floor. He stands up and goes to pick up his pillow.
“I need sleep and I’m too mad to sleep with you here.” you mutter
“Because I won’t cuddle with you?”
“Yes!” you yell tears streaming down your face.
“Then come here, I’ll cuddle.” he says and ducks when you throw another pillow at his head.
“No! I don’t want to cuddle anymore!” you yell
“Then let’s just go to bed.” Jack mumbles
‘No! I’m mad!”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Jack says with a laugh, and why he would do that would be his last thought.
“Go!” you yell.
“If I go, I’m not coming back tonight.” Jack says
“That’s fine. Maybe tomorrow you won’t mind cuddling your wife and child.”
“Sweetheart, I said let’s cu-”
“I don’t wanna cuddle!” you yell laying your head on the pillow with a sob. “I just wanted you to want to cuddle with me!”
Watching as you cried, Jack sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He picked up his pillow and looked at you one more time. “You sure?”
“Yes. You broke my heart Jack.” you say.
He went to say something sassy back but he knew it wouldn't get him anywhere so instead he said, “I’m sorry that I didn’t wanna cuddle because of the blazing heat you were putting off. I love you. Good night.”
When you don't answer, Jack chuckles as he walks out of the room. His girl was so stubborn. Heading to the couch he lays down and stares at the ceiling. Only two more months and maybe he would get his normal wife back. He was lucky that some of the guys on the team had kids and also went through this process. If not he wouldn’t know it was normal for his wife to be completely and utterly irrational about the dumbest things.
Tonight it was cuddling.
Last week, it was because he ate the last oreo.
Next week, it might be because he breathed a little too hard.
Jesus. Two more months. He could do it.
Leaning back on his pillow he closed his eyes, thankful that he chose to spend so much money to get a comfortable couch. He hopes you stopped crying. He hates when you cry. He was tempted to check but he really didn’t want you to bite his head off. Just as he was about to drift off he felt someone beside him.
Opening his eyes, he saw you standing there.
You looked adorable, hair a mess, cute pyjama shorts, cheeks flushed. Wearing one of Jack’s T-shirts that you cropped. It kinda made you look like Winnie the Pooh. Jack still thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Jack?”
“Yeah babe?”
“Can I lie with you?”
Chuckling to himself he scooted over as far as he could to make space for you. As you lay down your stomach presses into his and Jack wraps his arms around you, kissing you cheek.
“I’m sorry.” you whisper.
“It’s okay baby. I’m sorry too.” Jack whispers.
“I love you.”
“I love you more.” Jack says kissing you again.
The next morning, when he woke up with a sore back, all he could do was repeat three words over and over.
Two more months. Two more months. Two more months.
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gangplanksorenji · 4 months
Text
Kinknuary Day 22: Spanking
Pairing: Kep1er Xiaoting x Male Reader
Word Count: 4,956
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
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“Don’t you want to take me somewhere else more than this?”
“I actually just want to go home now, Xiaoting—I’m pretty tired…”
“Aw, come on—please? Just one more then we’ll go home…”
Of course, Xiaoting won’t end a day without a good note because she detests anything that’ll make her feel bored or even the simplest hint of discontentment and you won’t dare to disappoint her. Sometimes, life doesn’t go the desired path they want them to and that’s being sampled on her right now, and you won’t let her selfish wants be your burden in the long run.
“Aren’t you even feeling tired, Xiaoting?” Your tone laces a hint of discomfort as she seems to be much more invigorated than you even though you’ve mostly spent the whole day shopping and attending such an incredible party you’ve ever gone to. 
“Not really, but please—”
“Okay, okay…” You break her constant plea with a single proposition: a classic game of rock, paper and scissors and whoever wins, will mark both of your fates—it’s quite a simple game but unable to be rejected as Xiaoting agrees about that, and you smiled because of her sudden agreement.
“Just once, okay?”
“Alright…” Xiaoting sounds pretty defeated even though it hasn't started yet because the pessimistic side of hers says that she may end up losing and it will deeply make her disappointed and knowing how well she will think, you curl up a smirk as this is the moment of truth.
Counting down up to the lowest possible integer, you could feel the tension on Xiaoting’s eyes, laced with anticipation and the desire to win as she wanted herself to be fully-redeemed on peak-happiness but it’s like, you can clearly read her mind through that serious gaze of hers as you curl up a smirk after utter ‘zero’ and guess what, all became too ambitious for someone who desired something truly at its best.
It wasn’t really the best, for Xiaoting as you landed ‘rock’ front of her which made her gasp in defeat as it’s too late, with even half a second to spare and cheat, she panicked and managed to land a ‘scissor’ and with that little game, you knew who’s victorious and it’s goddamn you. 
“I hate this game! It’s unfair!!” Xiaoting whines and as expected, she rants out how rigged that game could be and how you “cheated” to get that desired prize as she frowns in front of you, her pouty yet disappointed expression still exuding such beauty that no one can come close.
“How is it unfair? You even switched it up at the last second and ended up losing? Just accept your defeat—”
“Ughh, fine! Fine, I will…” Xiaoting brushes off your further continuation of fighting how she’s on the wrong side as she doesn’t want to hear anything that would just make things worse—it’s like she’ll lose anything of our decision, probably a good night’s rest at her place, especially with you on her side. Knowing that investing onto another argument or another plea won’t make anything better since a deal is a deal and you’re just going to wait for time to tell the fate you have in store with and knowing how Xiaoting will take your upcoming proposition wholeheartedly, then it’ll be just only a matter of time before it all unveils onto that anticipated abyss of wonders and desires.
---
It never gets old between the both of you and the fact that you’ve been holding this for a while now is surprising, knowing how insatiable Xiaoting can be at an times you lay your eyes on her as her vixen-like aura and her seductive nature is enough to make you lure in to your deepest desires, and it’s being fulfilled with multiple, sloppy kisses on her lips. You chase your delightful moments in every kiss that you make up with her, as much as the lustful need in you every time you tangle your tongue on hers as you went deeper, and Xiaoting, pulling out as she’s running out of breath due to our audacious nature and aggressive actions towards her.
“Why would you pull out, babe? Am I too much for you to handle?”
“Not reall—ahh, ohh… right t-there…” Maybe you’re right or you could lean onto the opposite, knowing that the culprit would be the lack of oxygen would let those speculations set aside onto the correct verdict. You know how your lips are one of her ultimate weaknesses out of the many things you can elaborate as you let her know how your stupendous skills can make a girl like her fall under your spell within just mere seconds. You latch onto her deep, sharp collar bones that you always love worshiping, knowing how perfectly sculpted those are like the rest of her body, deemed to be drooled on a praised by only you—you could be just the luckiest menace of them all, being gifted with such an angel being close to the epitome of perfection, from head to toe. You keep peppering that porcelain skin of hers with multiple kisses, running your lips down to her neck as she moans almost-inaudibly and incredibly sultry, voicing out her deep satisfaction towards your expertise.
“Oh god—you k-kiss me so well—oh, so good!”
Hearing her constant compliments on your actions, you continue to pepper her with intimate kisses until you pull out right after, hearing her soft whimpers needing your lips to be attached onto her skin as soon as possible but you had enough, for now. 
“Isn’t my baby needy for me?” Your eyes demanded an answer escaping her lips right away, wanting her to unleash that living submissiveness inside her and you’ll do it slowly, knowing how the beast inside her will be a little challenging to tame. 
“Y-Yes…”
She’s succumbing onto that state slowly as her eyes glistening with need and her soft, needy tone is enough of an evidence, luring her into falling under your spell and will not make her escape out of it. With her needy pleas and her body grinding greedily against yours, wanting to feel your touch, you can’t seem to be convinced as there’s few elements that’s lacking from her constant pleas. “Yes what, baby?”
“Yes, please…” With Xiaoting’s constant pleas, you can’t help but just fulfill her needs right at this moment but you need to unlock that beast inside of you with the magical word that will turn her world upside-down. 
“You’re getting there, baby~” You tease her porcelain skin with a gentle swipe of your fingers, running it down her neck and then up to her toned midriff, which you always love kissing and worth worshiping until the end of time. Xiaoting knows that she needs to crack the code within you, and with a clever mind and taking a few seconds of the clock for her to think about what could make that happen, she finally thought of that forbidden word and it’s only a matter of time until~
“Yes I am, daddy.”
You never expected her to fail in any kind as she’s cognizant as the way she is and it’s always impressive to see and even hear it all with utmost sincerity and need. With your face still inches away from her, such eye contact would let the other succumb onto the endearing stare of the other yet you’ll change that, more likely, a commanding one as you live up with that, wanting Xiaoting to strip her clothing in front of you with class and skill like nobody can achieve. Maybe, you haven’t seen anyone become on par with her skills, let alone surpassing her and you’ll keep it that way—it’s way phenomenal seeing Xiaoting doing the things she’s great at and you won’t even bother thinking of another woman to do it for you. With her seductive gaze inviting you to strip her clothing with her, you wouldn’t skip that opportunity as you do so, slowly removing the fur-like sleeves on her arms but before you completely strip it off her, you take some time to commend her flawless figure and her outfit perfectly complimenting each impeccable feature she has.
“Thanks, d-daddy—really l-loved this one…”
“You know, as much as I want this on you, this would be better on the floor.”
Xiaoting’s lips curled up a sinister smirk as she invited you to make that “wish” of yours come true, and it wouldn’t take up much of your time until it became accomplished. She would aid herself for you to be comfortable, leaning onto you as she gives you such inviting and sultry moans, making yourself get riled up for her and you love it but you wouldn’t be fazed with that as you continue stripping her. Her hands wouldn’t be idle as she pulled her pants, down to her ankles and then onto the floor with a swift motion and god, those scrumptious, milky thighs on your sight is tempting to be voraciously kissed as hunger took over you yet you continue your work and with her top off, her slender, hourglass figure is now within your eyes to be blessed and you couldn’t ask for more because of it. 
Xiaoting is a work of art, sculpted by the gods to perfection as you’re the lucky man to handle and appreciate this masterpiece, maybe even use it until her legs give out—a sullied goddess, in your own books. 
“God, you’re fucking hot, Xiaoting—oh gosh…” You can’t believe your eyes as it takes numerous gazes throughout her perfect figure, eyeing every inch and drooling on it like it’s a five-course meal—maybe it may lie down onto the scope of similes but metaphorically, she’s always the main course and you would love to devour her like a predator hungry for its prey. With her last bits of defense still within her body, concealing her true beauty, you asked Xiaoting if you can strip it off her and without any hesitations, she nodded as she’s been longing for this for a while now.
“You really love my body so much, hm, daddy?” Xiaoting doesn’t even need to ask you about that because she already knows what your answer will be and it’s always readable, your eyes glistening with hunger over her is enough evidence. 
Still busy admiring her scrumptious body and her drooling all over it, it took you seconds before you could respond as you flash a smile at her, making her feel delighted and truly loved by you. “Of course, baby—I love it all but daddy’s getting impatient…”
Xiaoting runs her finger onto your clothed chest, up towards your shoulders as she rests her arms on it, and then utters such a seductive invitation letting you know how it’s going to start. “Have your way with me, daddy—I’d love what you’ll make me do…”
And as always, Xiaoting never laid a better invitation than that and she never fails to make you amazed and aroused. With all of that foreplay coming into its denouement, you commanded Xiaoting to get onto the bed as her naked body is now on display, ready to get used as she gets on all fours.
“This is going to be fun…”
--- 
“Count.”
“Y-Yes, daddy…”
It’s maybe a newly profound kink of him, and maybe even you, considering that as you're guilty as he probably likes how your thighs jiggle with his mighty palm striking onto your butt with the force of a truck, and you love it. He knows how you love it so much, your eyes won’t even deny letting him know about that and under his own control, you completely submit yourself and let him have his way with you.
“Don’t hold back, baby—let it all out and count, do you understand?”
You nod frantically, not wanting to disappoint him as you wiggle your ass in front of him, inviting him to do the honors of the actions he’s been longing to do—
*loud smack* “O-One…” 
It was just the first one and it’s already rocking your world, sending your arousal up to the sky as his smacks are pleasurable, making your sensitivity peak at its finest. You could feel yourself getting wet with the thought of his hands spanking your butt harshly until it’s red as a tomato while ramming your tight cunt down and you can’t wait for it to happen.
*another loud smack* “Two—oh god…”
Another one emanates around your ear as the crisp of its pristine sound sends your libido skyrocketing, probably filling the urge of him using you but you can sense and know how he won’t just pull the trigger this easily—the both you wanted this on the first place: you wanting this for a long time now and gains gratification from it and lastly, him wanting to tease you and there’s no better way to do that with his palm printed onto your milky buttcheeks, going to be redder than a tomato.
*another loud smack* “T-Three… That feels so g-good…”
It may feel redundant but you love every second of it and will not even feel the hint of being tired of it because of his harsh actions—you wanted the pain anyways, as he knows how you derive pleasure from his spanks and the discordant sounds of it increasing your libido onto the roof, and makes you even wetter by multiple barrages of it.
*another loud smack* “F-Four—f-fuck, daddy…”
This time, it was way harder than the rest as you whimper in pain again because of his harshness, but gaining that genuine gratification as you love the pain and the pleasure mixing all up together—you’re maybe a masochist because of how you derive intense pleasure, and you know he’s here to fulfill that at all costs. Even though you can’t catch a glimpse of the hot sight of him doing such sinful things to you, you can’t still brush the fact that your imagination reaches the furthest of its limits, capable of formulating the filthiest thoughts known to mankind.
*another loud, harsh smack* “Five—o-ohh… too g-good—ahh~”
You keep voicing your own satisfaction alongside your ragged breaths between random intervals that puts him onto authority to further smack you until your butt is scarlet red but you can sense that he has better options in mind, the feral beast inside him wanting to be unshackled from its restraints, and you’d be the guest to let it be a wish come true.
“Such a good girl for me, hm?”
You know he’s growing impatient, and you can sense it igniting in his eyes and you wouldn’t dare to let him wait for another move preceding what he could command you.
“Yes, daddy—” Your sultry voice invites him into falling down to his own, carnal desires and you know he wouldn’t make the both of you wait for nothing as every second should be treasured. “—now will you fuck your good girl?”
It’s up to him to write your fate, and you’ll just relax yourself and find out what it would be…
---
It does tempt you into fulfilling her needs and it’s just a single strand before you break your shackling confines, and it wouldn’t be long until you reach your primal desires. It wasn’t your cup of tea to tease into oblivion but if she wanted that then so be it as foreplay plays an impressive role on someone’s anticipation and her desires running like a roller coaster, all opting for the chase of fun and the freakiest frustrations of not being attended.
“Put it in, daddy—please, ohh!”
Of course, another tease makes her weak, whimpering in need as she tightly grabs the bed sheets for a leverage to fight the profound pleasure that she's not experiencing. You continue swiping your finger onto her heated core as she cries in response, and it further skyrockets once you start stimulating her clit and with her small sounds being the fuel on your unstoppable lust, you won’t let her wait for more as you gave what she truly deserves.
With your hands caressing the soft, silky skin of hers, you grab her hips and position yourself into a state of bliss and within a single second, it all went uphill as you could just hear each other’s groans emanating the wonders of such a great commencement of sex. You deliver shallow and leisure thrusts, aiming to just make her anticipate and savor every second of that blithe that she always loved. You continue peppering her neck with constant pecks as you muster such a sluggish pace, making her feel loved as you worship her and make her know how much you adore her.
“You l-love kissing me, daddy?”
You smile at her question, and you know that she already has the knowledge about that question, but you would love to let her know about everything you love about her, more likely, verbally. “Of course, baby—how could I not adore every inch of your perfect body?”
Well, she’s not egoistic but she knows how perfect she is in your eyes and that’s something that always wanted to hear, as it boosts her confidence in a great percentage and makes her feel the utmost care by you. Maybe the slow and redundant foreplay was getting on your nerves longer than you expected as you wanted to ruin her and Xiaoting herself would love the thought of that.
Maybe it won’t rely onto the cloud of thoughts as it’s now ascending into reality, pacing faster into a moderate speed where she constantly whimpered in need, your constantly ramming cock into her tightness becoming too much for her and of course she would request for an element to be added for the better experience for both parties.
“Spank my ass while you f-fuck me, daddy—oh god!”
Now averting your hands onto different places: your left hand swiftly fondling her perky breasts for better stimulation and your other hand already finding its way onto smacking that soft flesh in front of you, the rippling of it and the sound it reverberates around the room makes such an arousing sight that it further thrust you into her rapidly as she recoils a little from your harshness.
Who would have thought that a modest, sophisticated girl like her is invested in such a sinful, cruel act? Well, it wasn’t emanating from her aura totally but you know how she subconsciously knows how hot and captivating of a woman she is—you’re glad that she’s yours and you’re the only one to have a sight of her alluring masterclass. Maybe it’s a faux conception knowing that Xiaoting doesn’t exude such hotness if she’s always being a little “puffball”, as you call her, but her other side is nothing compared to this and god, the next thing you’ll know is that you’ll be just riled up for her that the both of you will succumb to each other’s needs and be the freakiest creatures known to mankind.
If it wasn’t always the case about the latter, then you don’t know what is because the both of you prove your points about that title.
Harsh spanks add up to the sea of cacophonous sounds that lingers around your ear, further fueling you to bring such hard poundings in aims to totally let her succumb to submission, and you’re nearing that goal with all of the stimulation you’re doing on her. Every whimper she exclaims with the pain you’re bestowing her just makes the sight rapidly hotter but you know it wasn’t enough until her cheeks are scarlet red so you muster a new pattern of thrusting between spanks and using the other hand as a leverage by grabbing her hips harshly. The constant rhythm of your hips gradually increases over time, and so is your harsh treatment towards her but you want to add an incredible twist that will elevate the experience even more.
Xiaoting lets out series of cries as you pound her into the mattress, her arms able to give out with how much you’re treating her and then suddenly, you slow down immediately, catching her off-guard and for her to recovering a little as you’re selfless—you wanted her to savor every moment whenever possible and not want her to reach her high too quickly even though you know how your cock can make her do that in a few minutes. With your sudden impeding, you could take a closer attention to admiring her scrumptious backside and the sexiest curves of her hourglass figure that you can drool on for days and won’t get tired of. This is also an exceptional time to let your hands be berserk and give her harsh barrages of spanks that makes her even wetter and even more whimpers that lets your cock twitch because of how soft and arousing her tone is.
“P-Please fuck me h-harder, daddy–oh gosh, s-so good!!”
Another resonating smack lingering around  her ears as you’re a little infuriated with her pleas, making her writhe a little and cry in need of a better pace. “Don’t tell me what to do, baby…”
Her tightness is nearly suffocating but you don't care, not when a hot sight is just right in front of you as you resume on your frantic pace, making her moan uncontrollably to the point that she almost screams and it’s deafening but angelic. With all of the constant stimulation of your hands throughout her body and the pain you’re bringing in with such onslaught of smacks, it wouldn’t be surprisingly to know if Xiaoting is going to reaching her high sooner than you expected as the constant constricting of her pussy and the juices seeping out of it are enough evidences to set herself near to the promised land. Now with her buttcheeks red with your hand printed on it, you gave her a small break and continue to double your efforts on pounding her tight cunt, letting her know how she’s going to be having the paramount orgasm of her whole life and with a shuddering response escaping her lips, you knew it’s deemed to come into an end.
“Shit—daddy, I’m gonna c-cum so soon!!”
She wanted this for so long and you wouldn’t dare to put it in a halt and gave the reward that Xiaoting absolutely deserves. “Then cum, baby—cum all over my cock—”
It all went onto that singular point of bliss, releasing deafening screams of pleasure as she lets everything out around your ravaging length and with Xiaoting aiming to further elevate her orgasmic trance, she requested you still fuck her senseless on her orgasm as you do so, making her a wild, mindless mess just capable of uttering such sinful sounds. With your ruthless pace, Xiaoting kept whimpering on how she wants you to treat her harsher as you fulfill her wants, further hammering her tightness with such thrusts mustered to the highest velocity possible and with spanks with a force of a truck. After such breathtaking thrusts and a breakneck pace, you instantly calmed down the feral beast inside of you and gave her a leverage to recover, thrusting with such a sluggish pace as she catches her breath due to her orgasmic high.
“Daddy, t-that was—”
“Good? Yes, baby, I know—” You lean down to kiss her beautiful neck, and then course your way near her ear and continue her sentence. With your lips still worshiping the porcelain skin of hers, you let her know how great the experience was and showered her with compliments that definitely stroked her ego. “—because honestly, you felt great around my cock, baby…”
Xiaoting lets out needy whimpers—maybe even possibly smiling because of your compliments—as you stroke her hair to make her feel your touch, your hips now ensuing a moderate pace, pumping into her but this time, it’s all full of affection and love and dismissing the harshness and greed like from earlier. Knowing yourself would be near your own high too, you wanted to save the best for the last as you warn Xiaoting that you’re going to pull out and let herself switch into a different position.
“Baby, turn around for me so I can fuck you while seeing your beautiful face.”
It was straightforward and she obliges immediately without any questions and even with the hint of frustration laced on her emotions, it wouldn’t be long until you reward her with something exceptional as now is the time for another side of bliss. As she spun her figure around gracefully, her hands grabbed your shoulders as you immediately didn’t waste any time teasing her and plunged your length deep inside her and god, she’s still as tight as earlier and you wouldn’t complain about that because that’s what makes every second worth cherishing. 
Your hands then coursed down on her waist, caressing it as your touch makes her writhe a little and it didn’t bother you, continuing onto your desired precedence to reach your ultimate high. You pump your hips in her with aims to make her feel the utmost pleasure and how much you love her and with Xiaoting’s cleverness and the heat rising up onto its maximum scope, her hands didn’t become idle and pulled your head towards her, initiating into a heated kiss. It was full of hunger and lust as the both of you kept on chasing the higher authority, battling for the dominant control over the other person as drool inevitably seeped out of your mouths with your tongues dancing around gracefully. The kiss eventually gets sloppier and more heated and so are your ramming thrusts, pistoning onto a velocity unable for anyone to comprehend and it wouldn’t take long before you achieve your long-anticipated high with that familiar tingle in your loins.
Wanting to savor the last moments before your peak, you initiated a new rhythm as you gave up on a ridiculous pace in exchange for more powerful thrusts, as every time you do it, her thighs jiggle like jelly and that’s why you love such slow-paced thrusts that aims to strike harder—maybe the accumulation of such force on hammering her tight cunt is wonderful and it wouldn’t be long until you achieve something that you’ve been longing for.
“Aren’t y-you close, daddy?”
You chase your breath as you became too focused on peppering her neck with kisses and fucking her into oblivion that it took your seconds before you responded back, “I’m pretty close, baby—”, and instantly you kissed her lips again as you looked at her endearingly, full of fervor as you muttered such saccharine-filled words, “—I love you so much…”
That made Xiaoting realize how sincere everything was and she always knew it, but she never felt this much adrenaline and affection as she can’t help but smile sincerely as you continue hammering her and chasing that peak of yours. “I love you too, daddy—more than anything in this world.”
You pulled Xiaoting into another heated kiss as you buried your entire length in this, filling her up to the hilt as she let out muffled moans onto your lips but didn’t let herself faze on her grand prize, continuing on deepening the torrid kiss. You fill her up as you grab her waist tightly, almost forming into an embrace in order for a better leverage on dumping everything inside her. You groan between your heated kisses with Xiaoting as everything is just now in a complete state of bliss, every spurt worth treasuring as the constriction of her walls makes the pleasure worth your while and maybe even extending your orgasm. When you feel that everything has been toned down, you then palm her shoulders and pulled out slowly, Xiaoting catching her breath because of such a heated kiss initiated by you and god, what an incredible it is to see her pussy full of your cum, and some of it dripping and onto the sheets they stain—you suppose you would need a new mattress considering how much she spurted ner nectar all over the place and maybe, that would be the case.
“Ohh, it’s s-so much, daddy…” Xiaoting moans in satisfaction as she can feel the warmness of your seed that fills every inch of her velvety walls, and some are even seeping out of her lips. She took this as an opportunity to scoop out a sample and tasted it and as expected, she was delighted to let her taste buds orchestrate the final verdict of its delectability. “It’s salty and sweet—I love it, daddy…”
You smile because of her satisfaction being voiced out verbally, and with that, it makes you feel that everything was worth both your whiles and there’s nothing you could ask for more when it’s already been fulfilled.
“You felt so good, baby and—” You caressed Xiaoting’s cheeks and looked at her endearingly again, feeling affectionate and thankful with the greatness she's bestowed you and being such a good girl for you. “—glad you loved me filling you up.”
“I love your harshness too, daddy—everything is just perfect…” It’s a little surprising that she can still articulate words that she shouldn’t but she got stamina for days so her recovery would be pretty quick. You know the night’s getting older but you know there’s more ways to enjoy everything you could think of but for now, a good night’s rest would not be bad as you can feel your drowsiness slowly taking over you until—
*notification pops up*
Yujin’s gonna see you tomorrow and you’re fucked up…
Well, was this all a mistake? You’d consider this as one but maybe this won’t be and all you can do is to prepare onto something that’s the last thing you want to deal with—her.
734 notes · View notes
luffyvace · 4 months
Text
MORE LUFFY RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS
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Yeahhh!!! Luffy hcs we’re what my first ever hcs were about! Look how far I’ve come! I love Luffy and I’m so proud of myself! enjoy these Luffy hcs lovely readers <3
Bathing together is SUPER FUN
and messy
you have lots (too many) bubbles
and yes bath toys
even stuff that’s not supposed to be in the bath-
like sticks-
let him tell it they’re swords
he personally doesn’t bathe bc he doesn’t care
even if its mandatory seeing as though no one wants to smell all that funk 😀
so he canonly bathes once a week right??
with you !! He can bathe at any time!
why? Cuz it’s funn 😆😆
you turn it into a game! an adventure!
so now he looks forward to bath time ;3
luffy splashes water everywhere
I wouldn’t be surprised if the ceiling is drenched with that dude’s strength 😂🤦‍♀️
it takes you FOREVER to clean up
but you know what takes even longer?? GETTING HIM OUT THE BATH
”AWWW but we were having sooo much FUUUUN (NAAAAAME)”
actually it did take a long time til you found a cheat code 😋
tell him sanji’s making food!!
ez way to get him out 😎
The final boss tho??
is getting him to help out with cleaning the mess up
especially after you told him there’s food around🧍‍♀️
Now bro’s DEFINITELY not listening 🙉
unless you use another cheat code (saying you’ll tell sanji not to give him any meat til he helps clean up)
your not getting any help buddy..
he’s already gone by the time you get him out the bath 🤷‍♀️
but again! If you use cheat code no.2 you can get him to help :)
which leads me to…!
Cleaning together !!
which turns into a game too :P
well, more like a competition-
Because that’s the only way you’ll keep him from getting bored and complaining instead of actually cleaning
even with meat on the line 🤭
‘it’s just so boriiiiiiiing ☹️‘
- according to luffy
so yes! You propose a competition!
and whoever cleans the fastest wins the prize of…….you guessed it! MEAT!
now he’s up like a whirlwind, swiping up all the soap with a towel and water with tissue 😏
you probably don’t even have to do anything anymore 😜
he may have won the battle but you won the war
eating together can also sometimes be a competition
now you can win by playing it smart like Uta
or just agree so he can leave you to eat, without actually trying
but if it’s not a competition…it’s certainly a war..
and I mean the dangerous one every straw hat goes through each time sanji calls in for food..
Luffy stealing your food!!!
😦😦
no but seriously, not even you, Luffy’s s/o gets the benefit of the doubt⁉️
it’s every man for himself in the dining room 😂😂
if your intelligent, depending on if your more like Robin or Nami you’ll either be unbothered about his antics or super annoyed
with being unbothered you’ll have a lot more peace of mind
and luffy will probably get away with more of his tomfoolery because you put up with him 😆👍
however with a s/o more like nami who gets annoyed easily, yeah he’s not getting away with any of that
thankfully for her, nami has less to stress over now (you take 50% it’s a requirement)
If your more carefree like luffy
i can guarantee you’ve got on like every straw hats nerves at least once
oddly enough I have a feeling you haven’t been able to bother brook just yet
dude’s 90 he got bigger problems..
but yes you terrorize everyone (even outside the straw hats) whether it’s intentional or not
if your strong it’s a relief for luffy not to have to worry about you and he’ll send you to defeat some guys, protect the ship or protect one of your weaker Nakama
he highly believes in you and your capabilities likes he believes in Zoro 👍
he also doesn’t have to worry about strong attacks hurting you as badly or if you go off on your own/get lost or separated or smth
especially as his s/o
if your weak he probably worries about you a little bit more but all the straw hats can handle themselves to some sort of extent
and he knows for sure you won’t go down without a fight!
and that you can at least hold over until he gets there
then he’ll beat the crap outta those guys!
he always tells someone strong to go with you to fights or what might be dangerous
if he doesn’t have to be somewhere for some reason, he’ll go himself!
he just wants to know your safe :)
Luffy loves you because your you! and he really just appreciates that fact in itself.
he looks past physical appearances completely and goes straight for personality
and even then he doesn’t judge that!
point is, no matter what type of anything you are, Luffy loves you because he just does.
he gets a funny feeling in his stomach and he gets extra excited!
Luffy loves you.
He simply does.
and there’s no explaining why.
These were short but sweet<3
to which i hope you enjoyed them💗
239 notes · View notes
katareyoudrilling · 2 months
Text
The Sweepstakes: Javi Gutierrez (Porn Star AU)
Series: The Sweepstakes
Pairing: Porn star Javi Gutierrez x Female Reader
Summary: It seemed like a great idea at the time, but now you’re not sure you’re brave enough to claim your sweepstakes prize.
Word count: ~3.2k
Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)
Content Warnings: reader is a full-figured gal, vague body descriptions, body insecurity, some ass smacks, ass worship, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected PiV (there is paperwork)
A/N: Huge thank you to @burntheedges for all her help with this!  Javi is a new character for me as is some of the subject matter I’m writing about.  I hope I’ve done both justice!  Spanish translations are at the end, but everything should be able to be understood in line with context.  I hope you enjoy!
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Taglist – link in bio or ask me to add you!
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“There’s a kitchen to the left and a bathroom here,” Erin opens a door to show you a spacious full bath.  “The production room is at the end of this hall, which is where I will be if you need anything.”
You nod along and follow her down the hall.
“And of course, here is the room where you’ll be doing your scene!” She opens the double doors with a flourish.
It’s so… bright in there.  Is it always that bright?
You look around the large bedroom.  A bedroom you are very familiar with, as it is where your favorite porn production company films many of their videos.
You wrap your arms around your torso, feeling exposed even though you’re still fully clothed.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
You entered a sweepstakes you never expected to win.  You saw the ad after a particularly satisfying session with your vibrator.  It said, “Enter to win a night with your favorite performer!”
Your favorite performer had just given you a fantastic orgasm.  In your dopamine haze it seemed like the best idea you’d ever had.  You’ve never had an orgasm with a partner, but he gets you there every time.  Could he do it in person?
The “he” in question was none other than Javi Gutierrez.  The friendliest porn star there ever was.  Sunshine incarnate. You wondered and then you clicked submit.
Now, seeing the room in person, faced with the reality of the large bed and sunlight filtering through the curtains… your brilliant idea doesn’t seem so brilliant anymore.
Erin leads you into the room and continues, “Since you’ve opted not to be filmed, we have removed all the cameras except one.”  She gestures towards a tripod in the corner.  “The lens cap is on though, it’s just for sound.  We will be monitoring the feed just to be sure everyone is safe.”
“I… I don’t know… if I can do this,” you choke out, your breaths coming faster and faster as panic builds in your chest.
“Hey, it’s ok.”  Erin places her hands on your shoulders and captures your darting gaze.  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.  If you just want to meet Javi and call it a night, that is completely fine.  He really is the sweetest.” She smiles at you, and you let out a long exhale, allowing your shoulders to relax slightly.
“He won’t be upset?”
“Upset? No. Our performers are all very aware of how intimidating this is and would never judge anyone for backing out, Javi especially.  I know he is excited to meet you, though.”
“Me? Why?”  That’s just ridiculous.  One of the most beautiful men in existence is excited to meet jiggly, squishy you?
“He’s excited to meet everyone, all the time, but we did show him your photo and tell him a little about you from your paperwork.  I believe his exact word was deliciosa.”  She winks.
Delicious? What? Javi is always so complimentary to his scene partners, telling them how beautiful they are and how good they feel, but none of his scene partners look like you.
“What do you think? Want to meet him?” Erin asks you gently.
You nod.  “Yeah, I guess.”  If Javi is who you think he is, then he will at least be friendly and kind.
“I’ll send him in in a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable and remember, we are here for you, however you want this evening to go.”  She leaves the room, closing the doors behind her.
You face the bed, the space you’ve traveled to in your mind so many times now real in front of you.  You’ll just meet him, and it will be fine.  So what if you’ll never know what it’s really like to be with him.  So what if this once in a lifetime opportunity passes you by.
You hear the doors open behind you and quickly turn around only to be blinded by the gorgeousness that is Javi Gutierrez.
He’s wearing a white tank top that shows off his broad, muscular shoulders, lightly freckled from the sun, and loose linen pants that hang low on his hips, revealing a thin slice of tummy and happy trail.  His skin positively glows in the setting sun.  His hair falls softly in ringlets of brown and gold around his handsome face.
“Hello, I am Javi.” He introduces himself with a wide smile and open arms.  You allow him to gather you into his broad chest, too stunned that this is happening to even introduce yourself properly.  You mumble your name against him.
His scent fills your nostrils—citrus and the ocean breeze—and you breathe it in greedily.  Too soon he lets you go and steps back.  A look of deep concern fills his chocolate brown eyes as he considers you carefully.
“Erin said maybe you want to leave.” His deep voice is so gentle and soothing. “It is ok if you do, but I hope not.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
His brow furrows in confusion. “Say what? That I would be sad not to get to fuck you?”
“You don’t… really want to do… that with me. It’s ok.”  Your cheeks heat as you stutter your answer.
“Of course I want to, why would I not want to? You are so beautiful. Bonita.”
“No I’m not, you don’t want this,” you gesture towards yourself, your tummy, your ass.
“I do want this.  What is wrong with this?”  He looks genuinely confused.  “May I touch you, bonita?”
“I… I guess.”
He takes your hand and brings it to his lips then trails kisses up your arm.  You shiver as his mustache brushes against your sensitive skin.
“¡Que linda!  So beautiful and soft,” he murmurs as he gets to your shoulder, dropping your arm and placing his hands on your waist.  ��Why would I not want more of you to fill up my hands?” He slides his hands around to your ass, bringing your fronts together.  You can feel his length hardening between you and your mouth falls open in surprise.  He squeezes your ass, “This. You. Are beautiful.  And I do want to fuck you.  Te deseo, bonita.”
He closes the distance between you to press a kiss on your mouth, currently open in shock.  He teases your lips and chin as his hands knead your ass, pulling you against him.  One hand travels up to palm your breast. He finds the hard point of your nipple and you gasp as he pinches it.
“Do you not want the cameras because you do not think you are beautiful, bonita?” he whispers against your skin as he drags his angular nose along your jawline.
You nod as you whimper.  The idea of watching yourself like that… it makes your insides churn.  You just knew when you saw the question in the paperwork that you would never want to watch it, so why record it?
He pulls back and holds your gaze intently.  “It is your choice, por supuesto.  But I hope I can make you feel beautiful tonight.  With me. Will you stay?”
His smoldering gaze is hypnotic and you find yourself replying, “Yes, I’ll stay.”
“Bueno, this makes me very happy.”  The smile that lights up his face confirms his words.
You find yourself smiling back, your insecurities taking a backseat to the fizzy excitement now bubbling through your veins.  His joyful presence is contagious.
Javi returns to your mouth, no longer in teasing nips, but with intent as he draws you into a deep kiss.  His tongue slides against yours with languid, knee-weakening strokes.  He leads you backwards until you feel the bed against the backs of your legs and directs you to sit.  With your head tilted back, he continues to explore your mouth, standing between your legs, his large hands cradling your face.
He steps back and pulls his tank top over his head.  He moves to return to your kiss, but you stop him with your hands on his chest.  You have to see him, touch him, this beautiful man you’ve fantasized about so many times.
“You’re gorgeous, Javi,” you whisper reverently as you drag your palms down his golden chest, delighting when his nipples pebble under your fingers.
“Gracias, bonita,” he chuckles softly.  His fingers trace your jaw and the shell of your ear as you explore his body.  “Undo the tie,” he murmurs as your fingers trace the edge of his trousers.  You can already see the shape of him through the thin material, straining to be released.
You bite your lip and Javi groans, “Fuck. Those lips, ay, son deliciosos.”
Carefully, you tug at the drawstring knot, it gives way, and his pants slide down his beautiful legs, revealing the full glory of his nakedness to you.  His cock bobs in front of you and your mouth waters at the site.  You shift, squeezing your legs together at the ache building at your center.
His glorious length, hard… for you.  It boggles your mind.
“It’s so sexy, you looking at me like that,” Javi growls.  “I can’t wait to fuck you with this cock.”  He strokes himself in front of you.  He’s so thick it sends shivers up your spine.
You look up at him and lick your lips.  “Can I taste you, Javi?” The boldness of the request surprises you even as the words escape your mouth.  You’ve become brave so quickly in the presence of Javi’s obvious desire.
“Absolutamente.  Whatever you want.  I am here for you.”  He smiles down at you as he stands in front of you next to the bed.
You take him in your hand and stroke lightly from root to tip, then bend over to retrace your path with your tongue.  Javi’s approval rumbles in his chest as you lick and taste your way along him, ending with a swirl of your tongue over the head of his gorgeous cock.  Grasping him firmly in one hand you draw him between your lips.
Javi caresses your neck and cheek as you pump him into your mouth.  You close your eyes and focus on remembering the salty taste of his skin on your tongue.  You never want to forget.
You lose yourself in the rhythmic action, stroking him with your hand in time with your mouth until your jaw aches.  You pull back to catch your breath only to have his mouth on yours again.
“Your turn, bonita,” he practically growls into your mouth.  “I need to taste you. Por favor. Lo necesito.”
You remove your clothes with his help. You want to look down, away from his face, so you don’t see his reaction to you, but you force yourself to meet his gaze.  What you see looking back at you is pure lust and desire.
Goosebumps rise over your skin at the intensity of it, your nipples pebble and your pussy throbs.
“So soft,” he whispers reverently, cupping your breasts.  He squeezes and moans before taking your nipple in his mouth.  He presses you back, so you’re laying on the bed.  Out of habit, your arms move to cover your body, to somehow make yourself smaller.
“Don’t hide from me, bonita.”  Javi gently takes your wrists and pins your hands out to the side.  “Let me see you. You are so beautiful. Quiero verte.”
Sincerity shines from his kind eyes.  You take deep breaths and relax.  You want to trust him.
He kisses your lips then travels down your neck, sucking at your pulse point and making you gasp.  He gathers your breasts in his large hands and nuzzles into them before taking each peak in his mouth.  He travels across your belly, licking and nibbling at your roundness, before grasping your thighs in his hands and licking a broad swipe up your slit.
You moan as his warm mouth envelopes your cunt and his tongue nudges at your sensitive bud.  “Delicioso,” he groans between licks.  He slips a finger inside you, and you instinctively roll your hips into him.
Him stroking you inside and out is divine, and you try to sink into the sensations and just enjoy, but a thought keeps worming its way back in.  Your mind won’t let it go, so you clear your throat, “Um Javi? I need to tell you something.”
“What is it, sweetheart? Are you ok?  Do you not like it?” he kisses the inside of your thigh, looking worried.
“No no, it feels so good, don’t stop.  I just…  I… fuck…” you lose focus, distracted as he resumes dragging his fingers in and out of your pussy, circling your clit with his thumb.
“I have read your papers, have you changed your mind about something?”
“No, it’s not that.  It’s just… I’ve never… come with a partner.”
“Hmm,” he murmurs into your skin, continuing to stroke you, “Do you come when you watch me?”
“Every time,” you moan as his fingers find a spot deep inside that makes your arch off the bed.
“Then we will see.  It is ok if you do not.”
“I want to.  With you.”  You do, so so badly.
It’s something you’ve thought about a lot.  It could be a matter of skill, but you can get yourself off alone just never with a partner.  You have a suspicion that how you feel about your body might be the reason.  None of your partners have ever said anything to make you feel badly, but you haven’t exactly let them appreciate you either, assuming that they wouldn’t.
You cover yourself, turn off the lights, only partially undress, in the hopes that a partner won’t notice what you look like.  As if they haven’t been looking at you in all the moments leading to the bedroom.
But Javi didn’t let you do that.  In this bright room, you bared yourself to him and he said you were deliciosa.  
“You have my word, I will try very hard,” he places his free hand over his heart, sealing his promise with a nod, making you giggle. “And we have things to help, if you need them.  It is ok. I will take care of you.”
“Thank you, Javi, oh…” you cut yourself off with a moan as Javi dives back into your cunt, sucking your clit into his mouth and making your hips jerk.
You decide to believe him and work to clear your mind.  Your eyes drift close as you focus on the pleasure he is pulling out of you.  His warm tongue strokes wide and firm, circling your clit in determined strokes.  You let your body respond how it wants.  Your hips rock into him with each stroke of his tongue, seeking that perfect pressure.  It feels amazing.
But you don’t come.
Before you can get frustrated, Javi kisses his way back up to your tits and gathers them in his palms.  “Look at you in my hands,” he moans, mouthing at your soft flesh, swirling his tongue around each nipple.  You take the opportunity to run your fingers through his silky hair, twirling one curl and then another.
He groans in appreciation when you tug slightly.  The sound goes straight to your core.
He looks up at you with a wicked grin. “Roll over, bonita.”
He rolls you on to your stomach, kneeling across your outstretched legs.  He gently smacks your ass cheek, sending ripples through your body. You gasp and your pussy clenches around nothing. 
“Yesssss,” he hisses and he smacks you again.  “Look how you bounce for me.”
He takes handfuls of your ass cheeks and kneads and squeezes them together.  Suddenly you feel his cock slide through the cleft of your ass.  You try to twist to see him but can only get glimpses of him staring down at you, slack jawed and wrecked.
Your body is making him look like that.  It makes you feel powerful, and you wish you could watch him enjoy you.  For the first time, you regret not allowing the cameras.  
“Fuuuck,” Javi growls, sliding his cock between your ass cheeks.  You whimper and whine pinned underneath him.  “I could come like this, bonita, you feel so good.”  He lets your ass cheeks fall apart and smacks them again before gathering you back up around his cock.  “So juicy and plump.  Fucking amazing.”
You’re drenched with arousal and unable to relieve any of the pressure.
“Fuck me, Javi, please,” you beg.
“Sí, bonita, I will fuck you,” he growls.
Javi scoots back and rolls you over then wedges himself between your legs.
Taking his cock in hand he glides himself through your slippery folds, nudging at your clit with each stroke.  You whimper as he teases you until he notches himself at your entrance.
He eases himself into your channel.  He’s a lot to take and works his way in gently, watching your face for signs of discomfort.
You let out a guttural moan as he bottoms out in your cunt. “So good Javi, you’re so big.  Fuck, I’m so full.”  The stretch of him is glorious.
He pistons his hips slowly at first as you both savor the drag of him through your walls.  Gradually he speeds up until he’s slamming his hips into you.
Every thrust reverberates through your body.  Your breasts and tummy wobble, but you don’t try to stop them.
“Look how you bounce when I fuck you,” Javi groans, continuing his relentless pace, “ it’s so sexy.”  His fingers dig into your thighs as he presses you open.
“Yes Javi, more… yes… please.” You beg nonsensically as your orgasm begins to sparkle at the edges of your awareness.
“You need to be filled up, don’t you bonita?  You need to be stretched around this cock.  That’s it.  Fuck. You feel so good.”  He moves a hand in between your bodies to circle your clit and you cry out.
“I think I’m close, Javi,” you whine.  He circles your clit faster continuing to drag his thick cock in and out of you.
“Let go, bonita.  Let me see it.”
You tip over the edge, an edge you have never found with a partner before, but you’ve never felt so desired with a partner before and so free in your body.  Javi’s skill with his cock and mouth and fingers is unparalleled for sure, but what does it is the look in his eyes and his filthy words when he fucks you.
He has made it so clear that his arousal is not despite your body, but because of it.  And he made you believe it too.
“Bonita?”
“Mmmm?” you mumble as you come back into your body, the aftershocks of your orgasm spacing farther and farther apart.
Javi is next to you, holding the back of your hand up to his lips as he peppers it with kisses.
“I have a question.”
“What is it?” you crack one eye open.
“Can I go get Erin to set up some cameras? For the next one?” he asks, eyes wide and hopeful.
You bite your lip as a shy smile spreads across your face.  “Yeah, ok.”
“Deliciosa.” He smiles in return before bounding out of the bed towards the door, leaving you giggling on the bed.
You stretch out while you wait for him to return, feeling more at home in your body than you have in a long time. You wiggle your fingers and toes and smile to yourself. The next one is going to be fun.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - 
Translations: Deliciosa/o/son deliciosos – delicious, they are delicious Bonita – beautiful Que linda – how beautiful/pretty Te deseo – I desire you Por supuesto – of course Bueno – good Gracias – thank you Absolutamente – absolutely Lo necesito – I need it Quero verta – I want to see you
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7s3ven · 6 months
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LACY. cato hadley
( master list )
IN WHICH… Clove Kentwell can’t help but compare herself to Cato’s ex. They may have dated a year ago, but she sees the way he still looks at her.
“Lacy, oh, Lacy, it's like you're out to get me. You poison every little thing that I do”
“Cato, are you listening?” Clove placed a hand on her boyfriend’s muscular arm, her eyebrows knitted together. She wasn’t usually worried but with how distant Cato had been lately, she couldn’t help it.
“Huh?” Finally, Cato turned to her. “Yeah. I’m good. Sorry, I’m just tired.” But his eyes didn’t fail to trail back to her. Clove followed his line of sight, feeling a sudden burst of jealousy.
He had been paying more attention to her than Clove.
Y/N L/N, District Two’s prized possession. A delicate beauty none the less. And Cato Hadley’s ex-girlfriend. It had been a year since the two broke up but he was still gazing at her from time to time, which angered Clove.
She had tried to bring it up with him, but he brushed her off. “Cato.” She tugged on his shirt, gaining his attention. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” The pair were sitting in a small cafe that happened to be Y/N’s favorite. She was always sitting in the corner, laughing with friends.
“I thought you liked this place.” Cato tilted his head to the side.
“I do.” Clove glanced down at the cinnamon spice coffee that she adored, “But I… want a change of scenery.” All she wanted was one day where she didn’t have to witness Cato eying up Y/N.
“Uh. Yeah. We can leave.”
Clove did her best to hide her sigh of relief. They stood up, pushing their chairs back. Clove grabbed her drink and practically shoved Cato out the door.
“What about that dessert place you like?” Cato questioned. Only, Clove didn’t like desserts. She liked warm and hot things; like hot chai lattes and spicy soup. Y/N was the one who liked desserts.
“I’m not in the mood for cold things.” Clove smiled, cooly playing it off. She couldn’t help but loathe Y/N for influencing Cato this much and leaving such a huge mark. But it was partly her fault for falling in love with a guy who wasn’t over his ex.
“Do you just want to go home and watch a movie then?” Cato suggested. Finally, he remembered one right detail about her. Clove silently nodded, taking another sip from her cup.
Cato abruptly paused. “Hey, your friend is friends with Y/N, right?” Clove wasn’t even disappointed at this point.
She heaved a light sigh. “Yeah. I guess. They talk.”
“Great. I need to return some things to her but I don’t know her new address. So do you think you could ask your friend?”
“I’m not really comfortable with you being around Y/N.” Clove fiddled with her fingers, which was another trait she had gained from her relationship with Cato.
Cato quietly scoffed, but not in a rude way. He smiled. “It’s just a few things, Clo. I’ll be in and out like that.” He quickly snapped his fingers. Clove rocked back and forth on her heels before giving in.
“I’ll ask but I can’t make any promise.” She uttered, the light in her eyes dimming when she saw Cato grin wider.
Y/N was the type of girl nobody could compare to with her stunning E/C eyes and lingering perfume that hung heavily on her skin.
She was Heather Conan talked about. She was Lacy Olivia referred to. And in a way, she was Clove’s rival.
“Excuse me.”
Clove’s heart practically dropped after she heard that all too familiar voice. Cato seemed to spin around impossibly fast.
Y/N stood behind them, softly smiling. “I think you left this.” She held up a hardcover book that Clove had forgotten to grab despite it being her favorite.
“Oh…” Clove quickly reached for it, hugging it tightly to her chest. “Thank you.” She choked out. Y/N sent her another smile that made Clove feel sick. How could she be so perfect?
“Cato, I found some of your stuff in my closet.” Y/N turned to the blond-haired boy. “Would you be wanting it back?” Clove almost prayed for Cato to ignore her. To not reply. But Cato opened his mouth anyway.
“I have some of your things too. I was planning on asking Clove’s friend, Aria, for your address.”
“Oh, Aria! She’s so nice. She let me borrow her perfume once.”
It was like Clove wasn’t even there. She clenched her hands into fists as she watched the two converse like they were old friends. They somewhat were but their dating history made it weird for them to be speaking so casually.
Cato was hanging off every word Y/N said which left Clove alone. She almost shrivelled under all the pitying looks people passing by gave her, but she continued to stand tall.
“I’ll meet you there then?” Y/N asked, her perfectly tinted lips curving upwards. Her makeup was always perfect, unlike Clove who preferred to wear none at all. Suddenly, Clove grew self-conscious.
Did Cato like feminine girls? Clove looked Y/N up and down, noticing her neat outfit. The H/C-nette was wearing a skirt while Clove was dressed in loose fitting cargo pants. Her gaze flickered to Y/N’s hair. Every strand was placed perfectly while Clove’s hair was simply pulled back into a messy ponytail.
“Yeah. See you.” Cato bid Y/N farewell. He looked at Clove again, who was losing her confidence the more she compared herself to Y/N. “You ready to go?”
Clove hid her insecurity behind a smile. “Yeah.” She muttered, her voice quieter than she planned it to be.
The couple always watched movies at Cato’s house. His family had a spare room that they used as a small movie theatre. Clove leaned against Cato and despite him allowing her to do so, she knew he wished she was someone else.
“So, what were you and Y/N talking about?” Clove carefully questioned as the movie had begun playing. She felt Cato shrug.
“Not much. We were just arranging a place and time to give stuff back.”
“Why do you still have her stuff?”
“I must’ve forgotten about it.”
The pang in Clove’s heart told her that he was lying. She saw the way he hugged a pink hoodie to sleep. It wasn’t her’s, and it didn’t smell like her either. Clove’s perfume was heavy and mature while the hoodie smelled airy and floral… just like Y/N.
Clove did her best to focus on the movie. She would get lost in her thoughts from time to time but always came back to reality when Cato shifted around.
Clove yawned and slightly slouched, letting the cushions of the couch engulf her. She glanced at Cato who was too focused on the screen to notice.
She suddenly paused the movie, confusing Cato. “Are you leaving now?” He asked, watching as she stood up. She shook her head.
“Cato, we need to talk about…” Clove paused, choosing her next words carefully. “Some things that have been happening recently.”
Cato raised his eyebrows, indirectly telling her to continue.
“Lately we haven’t been the same. I mean, I’m training more and you… you seem distracted. Did I do something wrong?” Clove had never felt more vulnerable than right now.
“I mean… you did eat salt and vinegar chips with Oreos.” Cato quietly chuckled.
“That’s not what I mean!” Clove exclaimed, “And that was a dare just so you know!” She pointed a finger at Cato. “You keep looking at her. And don’t pretend like you don’t know who I’m referring to.”
“What? Y/N?” The way Cato immediately caught on unnerved Clove. “Clo, she’s just a friend. Not even that. I only talked to her today because I needed to.”
“I see the way you look at her. And…” Clove had to take a minute to compose herself, “I know that you wish I was her.” Cato said nothing, confirming her theory.
“Clove.” He uttered after a moment. That was the first time he had called her by her real name in a long time. “I’m dating you. Not her. I”- Clove unexpectedly cut him off.
“Then why does it feel like we aren’t dating?!” She shouted, her voice slightly shaking. She was glad no one else was home. “Why does it feel like… I’m a replacement?”
“You aren’t”-
Clove didn’t let Cato speak. She launched straight into another scolding. “Why are you always looking at her?! And ignoring me! I’m your girlfriend, Cato! Me! Not her! So why do you pay more attention to Y/N than me? You hardly even talk to me now!” If Clove was a normal girl, she would be sobbing. But her parents taught her to keep her emotions, especially her sadness, at bay.
Cato remained silent, staring at her with the same look of pity everybody else did. All Clove wanted was for him to look at her the same way he looked at Y/N.
“I’m sorry, Clo.” He uttered. Clove took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for whatever was next to come. “I just can’t love you like I love her.”
“I see.” The brunette whispered. She quickly gathered her things, blinking away small tears.
“Clove. Come on.” Cato stood up as she walked away. “We can talk about this. Where are you going? Clove.” He was annoyingly insistent on following her.
Clove spun around, staring right into Cato’s eyes. “I can’t be her, Cato. So maybe it’s best if we split up.” She was prepared to leave but Cato grabbed her wrist.
“Y/N.” He uttered without thinking. His grip loosened on Clove’s wrist once he realized his mistake.
“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” Clove unlocked the front door, stepping out. “Just… leave my stuff on the doorstep and I’ll do the same.” She closed the door behind her and allowed herself a moment of weakness.
Cato stood on the other side, listening to Clove’s quiet sobs and sniffs. He slowly backed away. He knew that deep down, Clove was right. He did wish she was Y/N.
He glanced at the box Y/N’s stuff. It sat at the bottom of the stairs, almost collecting dust.
Maybe it’s for the best, he told himself. He had already hurt Clove enough. There was no reason for him to pretend that he loved her as much as he still loved Y/N.
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abbyromanoff · 6 months
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For kinkmas, could I request a fic where Agatha Harkness meets reader by "accident"? Agatha comes into reader's life fitting perfectly but she keeps a dark secret, who is she really? Something is clear. Agatha doesn't know how todeal with rejection so it could trigger chaos without turning back. Agatha is madly in love with reader Maybe some smut :)
LET ME LOVE YOU
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PAIRINGS: Agatha Harkness x reader
WORD COUNT: 979
WARNINGS: smut, manipulation of power, children, pregnancy, allusions to smut, unfair power dynamics, Agatha just like ruining R’s life and making it better yk
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“I’m so lucky to have you, Aggie.” You mumbled out one morning as you cuddled into her chest, your bump poking her stomach and causing her to smile. She slowly rubbed her hand against the skin, leaning down to peck your forehead while you chuckled.
“What? Did that tickle?” You nodded with a hum, forcing yourself impossibly closer to her warmth.
“Baby, I don’t think you can get any closer than this.” You pouted, receiving a blocking of her eyes. She covered them with her hand, causing you to laugh at her actions.
“Nope, I’m not falling for it again.” You placed your hand on her chest to steady yourself as you straddled her lap, kissing across her neck teasingly as she leaned into the touch. You grabbed both of her hands and led them to your waist, which she happily did.
“Your hand fit with mine so perfectly.” You spoke, and her smile faltered before quickly returning once again. You didn’t pick up on it, you were too busy admiring your skin touching hers.
“I guess we were made for each other, weren’t we?” You bit your lip with a grin as she leaned in, connecting your mouths in a long, passionate kiss.
She wasn’t lying when she said you were made for one another, she made sure you were. When you were at your darkest time, nearly being left to the streets in the cold, she was the one who helped you. She was your boss, after all, it was her job to help employees. But she helped in ways no other employee got to see, she helped fix your damaged heart and repair it to her liking. Of course, it was a coincidence that you landed the job after your old boss fired you for unknown reasons. Wanda was mean anyway, is what Agatha would always tell you. She never liked the woman and she never would.
“I’m willing to offer you the job, but only under one circumstance,” She told you, and you could feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins.
“Of course! Anything, ma’am, I’ll do anything.”
“Anything, huh?” You nodded, and that’s where it all began. Only months later were the two of you in an official relationship, and weeks after that she asked you to move in with her. Many would think it was too soon, but you didn’t think so - that’s all that mattered. In late December, Christmas to be exact, you opened a box that held a ring as a hidden gift. You got the job in July, but once again, you didn’t think it was too early. Love held no sense of time, which is why you were married in less than a year of dating and only eleven months of knowing one another. She showed you off like a prized possession, and you happily soaked in every ounce of attention she gave you.
Nearly a full month after your honeymoon the two of you sat in front of the waiting stick, the clock seeming to take an hour for every second. The moment the results came in you were both radiating with joy, and her body was instantly against yours. That night she made love to you, admiring every inch and curve of your body, picturing the belly bump that you’d have in time. She didn’t want to wait, however, she wanted to tend to your every need while your stomach bulged with her child. She wanted to see you bring life into this world and the smile you’d wear whenever you saw your baby boy.
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“I guess we were,” The two of you quickly fell into a loving kiss once again, only pulling away when hearing a small knock at the bedroom door. There came your son with the cat in his small hands, a sleepy grin on his face while his onesie fit him perfectly.
“Well hello, kiddo,” The cat jumped and he put his arms up, a signal for you to lift him. It was difficult to do so with your large stomach, so Agatha was the one to do so.
“You look so tired, James,” He nodded and crawled close to the two of you as you laid down. You allowed him to do so, and he murmured soft, jumbled words that he had been practicing.
It was only minutes before he fell asleep, and the two of you were now left alone in the silence.
“My beautiful family,” The small boy sat on her lap, curling into her chest the way you did not long ago. His snores caused you to giggle, and her arm caused you to crawl closer.
“I’ve never been happier with anyone or anything else than I am with you guys.” You smiled softly, and she left a kiss to your forehead.
“And I’m never letting you go.”
“You’ll never lose us, we’re right here. Forever and always, my love.” You didn’t need your parents, you didn’t need your friends, this was the only family you needed. Agatha would make sure of it, and she did when she forced all connections you had to be broken, and manipulated the ones you loved the most to hurt you in ways you never knew could be possible. She didn’t want to damage your heart, but it was the only way she could bring it to be full of her and only her.
Manipulation has always been a small thought to her, something she’d never actually do but always had the ability to. She’d occasionally use this gift against employees to work, or other businessmen to give her what she hoped for. But you - you made it so easy to break her rules. She drifted from all of her promises, all of her syllables, all for you. And that was okay. Because in the end, it was undeniably worth it.
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nexility-sims · 27 days
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𝐍𝐎. 𝟕   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   AUGUST 1991
❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.
Trish Fitzpatrick wore many hats, but her favorite was “freelance journalist.” Her area of expertise grew directly out of myriad side gigs: what she called portrait pieces of interesting people. Outlets clamored for them—or, they had since she’d buttered up famous, neurotic opera singer-turned-starlet Prudence Boone into revealing she had a glass eye, a secret runaway daughter, and a hair-eating habit. Of course, Prudence was basically a stranger. They had once had a fifteen minute conversation on the deck of a yacht, bonding over the fact that neither actually knew to whom the vessel belonged. Prudence thought Trish’s outlandish suggestions were funny enough to remember her when she called to pitch the piece. It had gone the same way with Renzo. Of course, they had met while fighting over a scarf in a vintage clothing store. Trish considered letting him win to be a debt, one for which she would demand recompense at the ideal time. Opportunities passed, and then August 1991 proved to be the time.
❧ i got the irresistible urge to do renzo backstory, which was meant to be an outtake, but then i was like, "uh, no, this totally works as story proper if i put leonor in it," so here we are ! context and such. given the amount of work, this might be my magnum opus until further notice ... it was also just fun to do :^) checked off the sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll boxes ?? where's my prize. in conclusion, i love my white boy of the week or whatever
𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓
I grew up in a tiny town—Petunia. Petunia? You say it differently. It’s the country coming out, I guess. Not “pee-tyoon-ee-ah,” it’s “puh-toon-yuh.” Petunia. That’s it. So, how was it? Fond memories? In retrospect, maybe. I wanted to get the hell out of there from day one. What I remember is being very unhappy—dispositionally sullen, not just a pouty kid, but fully down and out. Born that way, probably. And your parents? My parents … Life had the upper hand, man. They were good at losing. I didn’t want that life.
My dad professed to be a traveling salesman—What, he wasn’t? I mean, he didn’t know jack shit about vacuums or whatever the fuck. I don’t know. But, he wasn’t around a lot, it sounds like? Gone for weeks at a time. Just me and my mom. How was she? Not really there either. When I got home from school, she’d pop her pills and be gone until morning. She wasn’t avoiding me; she was avoiding life. She did what she had to do in the mornings—you know, I had what I needed, the bare essentials—but she was checked out. You had a lot of unsupervised time, then. Oh, did I. Too much. I mean, I had books to read, and I got into music early—From her? No. My dad’d blow into town and bring pity gifts. Not kid-appropriate shit, now that I think about it. Heavy, gritty stories. A guitar I was too little to use. Flip lighter. But, you know, I was a kid. I wanted to run and play with everyone else, too. Of course.
Here’s the thing: it was hard to be a scrawny kid named Lorencio in Petunia. Shit, I can imagine. What was that like? … Hard, like I said. Well—Details? I got the shit kicked out of me. Regularly. What do they call it—um—“school of hard knocks”? Yeah. I remember, one time, I limped home on a Saturday. Mom was out of it, but she leapt up when she saw all the blood. Cleaned me up. It’s like I’m there now—in that bathroom with the dirty tile, her burning me with peroxide … She didn’t really talk, you know, not in a serious way? But she did then? She said, in Uspanian, “‘Don’t roll over for anyone.’” Interesting. So, that’s the lesson? Part of it. I realized that summer it didn’t matter if you were scrawny, if you talked funny, if you were poor. What mattered was not being a pussy. [Laughs] Oh, yeah? If you want credibility, if you want respect, sometimes you gotta be able to take a beating. Don’t roll over. That’s right.
I think it also helped when the growth spurt hit. You must’ve still been scrawny. [Laughs] String bean. So it goes. Adolescence . Now, you grew up fast, is what I’ve heard. You could say that. My life changed when Marty got out of lock-up—Sorry, what?—for “teen offenders”; he set his grandparents’ car on fire—oh, I see, regular kid shit—Uh huh. We hit it off. He introduced me to other guys, including Jesse. They’d huff gas together. Oh my God. Not whippits? Sure, but less convenient. That’s—No good, yeah. Fun though. Have you—? I’ve tried everything, Patricia.
Jesus! So, Marty and Jesse…? We got on like a house fire. [Groans] They were into petty crime for the thrill of it—Now, Renzo, is arson petty? He did it one fucking time. Everyone overreacted. They got into trouble for fun, and for you it was—? Money. Not a lot. I was too dumb to consider the risks. But, you did other things for money, too? Don’t say it like that. I wasn’t hooking. [Snorts] I worked a lot. I was cutting school to work, getting paid under the table, all of that. Maybe—hear me out—some of it was thrilling for you, too? I won’t tell anyone. [Chuckles] What can I say? Credibility.
I feel like I’m mischaracterizing … I love Marty and Jesse, to this day. Jesse’s daughter is your godchild, right? Yeah. Marty went back to Petunia in … ‘88? Jesse and I had better luck, or maybe we were just more desperate. Either way, my point is that delinquents get a bad rap—With good reason! Sure, okay. Both of them were deeper and more complicated than that. You’re not an outlier. No. We’re a dime a dozen. No one gives them the chances you got. Uh huh. So, we bonded over that—feeling down and out, like I said, but also the fact that we loved music. Marty’s family had money, so they’d bought him a nice bass guitar. But, Jesse’s mind … He’s so fucking creative. He wasn’t a reader, but I could tell him about something I’d been chewing on, and he’d have a song inspired by it within the hour. He has an incredible voice, too. He does.
I guess it’s not surprising that you guys did what you did. There was nothing for us at home, you know? Packing up and heading out west didn’t feel like a risk. And your mom understood that? Better than anyone. I know people judged her—shit, I judge her, too—but I always knew she was trying. That’s sweet. Is it? I mean, I think so … She met my dad at a bus stop three weeks after she arrived in the country and made the mistake of getting off at his stop. That’s it. That was her crime. Well, I’m sure she’s doing better now, huh? She lives in a nicer house in a nicer city, but that doesn’t cure depression, now does it? I suppose not. There was this woman whose lawn I’d cut all the time … A real bitch, but she was extra nice because she felt bad for me. Hated my mother. I think she was just jealous because my dad was her high school sweetheart. Isn’t that just how it goes? Damn foreigner stealing a real catch from her. [Scoffs] Sticky fingers when she invited me inside for lemonade—cigs and quarters from her purse, Valium from the cabinet, that kind of thing. [Laughs] Casual. It was pretty brazen, honestly. Fucking dumb kid.
Alright, so, you come out here with Marty and Jesse to make music, and now you’re a serious actor with a name and a big career ahead of you. How’d that happen? It was completely accidental. While we waited for a record deal, I did odd jobs, like auto work—you know, in a body shop. It was decent. Had you worked on cars before that? So, I got familiar, uh … [Chuckles] We’ve established I was a rascal. We could get under the hood of a parked car and make a few dollars off parts. I can get you in so much trouble, Renzo! [Laughs]
Don’t tell anyone, come on! I was a kid. Have a heart. I guess it paid off. But, alright, body work? What’s the connection? It’s kind of convoluted. When business was slow, the guy I worked for loaned his employees out to another mechanic. This guy, long story short, brought me along to assist him on a movie set. I guess he was a known quantity? Everyone knows the right guy! That’s everyone’s explanation for where they end up. Me, too. Uh huh. I don’t know why they let me do it, but—Somehow it worked out. Yeah, it did. Right place, right time.
You’re in the spot. How did you get into it, though? This is embarrassing as hell but, fuck it, I’ll be honest. Please. Don’t stop now. [Chuckles] I got a shot because I’d been chatting up this girl who, as it turns out, was the director’s kid—or, in fact, she approached me. I had no idea who she was or why she was there. Of course she did! That’s not surprising, is it? I think I was the most disinterested person there. I don’t know. Anyway, we talked a couple times, then—out of the blue—someone asked me if I wanted to hop into a scene, say a line, ten seconds flat. She did that for you? I don’t know what she did. No one mentioned her. Maybe she thought you looked like a movie star. [Snorts] Fuck. I hope not. Did you want to do it? I wanted to make music. I wanted to finish reading my book. I wanted … I mean, I said yeah. Can’t decline that. Makes a good story, right? What happened with her—? Oh, hell. Sorry! Moving on, for now. [Groans]
I got a call several weeks later about an audition. How did that feel? Bizarre. We’d done a demo for a producer once, but this was different. Were you excited? I was terrified. But, I went. Didn’t get that part, although everyone was perfectly nice to me. How disappointing. You always remember your first … But, hey, you have to look at it this way: I didn’t want to be an actor. I thought it was cool, but it felt like … ? Go ahead, give me a good metaphor. Like when you’ve been craving your favorite food, but then someone offers you a helping of something different, new, appetizing. How’s that? Passable. C-plus. [Laughs] Fuck you, Pat.
Okay, so the road didn’t end there. No, it didn’t. I got another call, and that one went well. This was for … Sugar Sweet? That’s the one. Cornball, but I love that movie. Never seen it. What! How is that possible? You were in it. You went to the premiere screening. There are pictures. Saw my first scene, excused myself to go piss, didn’t come back until the applause had started. Wow. Everyone has opinions about that movie these days—very contentious, whether or not Alicia was in the wrong when she left me and stole my lifelong dream. What do you think? Me, Renzo? Good for her. I thought it was kind of bitchy. It’s peculiar how many women say that. I wonder why … ! Billy’s so dreamy. Please, ask me about something else, Pat. So, this romantic comedy is your launching pad. It leads to the television show. The television show blows up immediately. Walk me through what that felt like?
Also terrifying. I really cannot emphasize enough that I didn’t want attention. I wanted money and time to support my music, and acting seemed like a good way to do that. Just didn’t account for the side effects. Like fame? Uh huh. I was a nobody in Sugar Sweet, and the pay was shit, but it felt like a miraculously good deal at the time. What it did is put me in the running for more serious work. I think, even then, sometimes the casting folks were hesitant to take a risk on someone with no experience whatsoever, even if they had—A spark? Talent? Sure. It was unsettling, the idea that I was some kind of “natural,” and I compensated by working really hard. Well, you’ve established yourself as a hard worker. Sure. I guess they saw that—the improvement, in addition to the fact that I had a resume to speak of by then. Or, eh, they saw that you were pretty. Right, of course, you don’t need talent if you have Teen Mag’s favorite cheekbones. [Snickers] I joined a cast with other people who had very little experience, and we bonded over that. I just didn’t expect to be … What, the center of attention? That, yeah.
You know what’s fucking weird? Huh? Signing your name on a picture of your own face that belongs to someone else. That they’re going to take it home and pin it to their fucking wall or frame it on their bedside table. Someone’s kid treating you like their school crush, blushing and shit while they’re asking for you to do it. That does seem like a strange experience. Over and over again. Teenyboppers, goddamn. You were in the magazines for them. I read a couple interviews. No the fuck I was not. I did not do those. No? What they do is take quotes from actual, consented conversations and stitch them together for their own use. It’s legal. That’s fascinating. Maybe I should try that. Less work. [Laughs] Yeah, alright, flush your “exclusive access” privilege right down the toilet.
But, look, I’m not disparaging the fans wholesale. That’d be unfair. And, ouch, ungrateful? Yeah. The initial couple years were fucking insane, but I was with people I liked, and a lot of the fans we actually met were … Normal? Uh huh. Not a hysterical, handsy, screaming blob. You got grabbed? Groped, Pat. Oh boy. We don’t like grabass, I guess. Well, hold on now, just not like that—You keep sidetracking me. What kind of interviewer are you? I’m having fun with my buddy! Sue me. [Chuckles] You got it, baby. What was I saying? The fans? Yeah. The ones we met one-on-one were cool, usually. They had deep thoughts about the show, you know? Ideas about the characters, the plots—filled in holes in the shitty writing. No offense to Jack and Reuben, I hope! Don’t print that, Pat.
If I’m being honest, having to answer their questions made me think deeply about the role. That’s stayed with me. I don’t like being walked up on in public, but sometimes it’d go fine. The first time someone came up to me in the wild, her mother looked so fucking apologetic that I decided, “Cool it, don’t be a jackass.” She wanted to talk about the book I was buying. Same thing would happen to Frank, Perry, Vicky. How about the show itself? That was a three year commitment.
It was alright. In retrospect, I understand that television isn’t for respectable actors, which made the transition hard. Harder to have been on a show for teenagers. But, you made that switch in Uspana. So, did that play into the calculus at all? I lucked out, in the sense that the show was co-produced, and I got to do the dubbing for the Uspanian version. I wasn’t a total unknown, even if they thought my Uspanian was shitty. Is it? Losing an accent is hard, in my defense.
When my contract ended, I hit the road. You didn’t think about staying on? I thought about it with horror, yes. [Laughs] You’d keep shit-talking the whole production if I let you. Maybe. So, in Uspana? It was like exhaling for the first time in a while. I did nothing for a couple months. All that hard work, being a beloved TV star … Throw me a bone, Pat. But, anyway, I didn’t even see my mom’s family again for a few weeks—You knew them, though? Yeah, we’d met, during the press trips. Beach life by yourself. Luxury.
You know, I needed to reconnect with myself. That’s how I felt. I felt like I had been an imposter, then I felt like I had to be someone I wasn’t, and now … You could go a different way. A fork in the road, for your career. Your life, really. Right, yeah. I went to Canarís like any good tourist. I had more money than I’d ever had in my life. I had no plans. Sounds like a dream. It was.
Crucially, I was out of my mind most of the time. Kite high. So fucking high. I swear I almost drowned twice, at which point it was politely suggested that I stop using the pool. Did you politely agree? Fuck no. [Laughs] Troublemaking aside, I ended up taking phone calls, making plans with people—Industry people? Yeah. There were people I knew already, but meeting the ones I really wanted to work with happened kind of organically—parties, premieres for other films, cafes. At the Morningstar Cafe in Canarís? Right, exactly. Same way I ended up finding The Den. Someone at the cafe had worked with Karolina Teague, and she took me there one evening after we all got tossed out of some poor son of a bitch’s house. Sounds rowdy. Can’t blame him. It was after midnight. And? Well, it was a lunch that’d started at eleven in the morning, so. [Chuckles]
So, I have a question. You’re pretty consistent—in terms of behavior. “Behavior?” [Snorts] Yeah, okay, I understand. What was that like, with cameras on you? The photographers in Uspana definitely aren’t less aggressive. That’s part of it. I don’t know if I’d call it an epiphany, but I left Canarís for Nakawe with the understanding that I was going to just do what I wanted to do. Oh boy. Within reason, fuck. Reason. Sure, yes. You didn’t feel like a dumb kid anymore. I mean, I guess I have more fun with the camera guys here. They can get away with more, ergo, so can we.
I distinctly recall you got arrested for—I barely touched that guy or his fucking camera. Did him a favor, if I did. Dogshit quality device. [Chuckles] Not sure he saw it that way, but the charges were dropped. I mean, don’t get me wrong, shouldn’t have reacted that way. I kept thinking about my mom seeing those pictures … The one time I got picked up, she backhanded me in the middle of the station, right in front of the cops. Jesus. In the car, she goes, “If you get caught again, I’m going to rip your ears off.” Empty threat, I guess.
The Den—I want to talk about that. Please, let’s. Your first time there? It was with Karolina, like I said, and there was a local band playing that night. They’d wrapped up their set by the time we arrived and were just … jamming on the stage, taking feedback and requests from the people who were still there. Some kind of funky jazz mash-up. I liked it. How did it come to you? It opened in ‘57 as a bar and, at some point, it turned into more of a music venue open to a certain segment of Nakawe. The guy who owned it gave exposure to a lot of people who went on to really do something with their art, and that’s why it ended up being a somewhat exclusive spot. Celebrities already knew it and brought their friends. Uh huh. I could stroll up, and the cameras weren’t with me because they were already there. He got tired of that, I think—He was an older fella, right? Yeah. But, really, he managed other properties, and The Den wasn’t his passion project the way it’s become for me. So, you had the money and took it off his hands.
What goes on in there? [Laughs] Pat, you’ve been inside. Well, not for me! If I’m going to describe it to people who’ll never go inside, what would I say? I mean, it’s a hangout spot. It’s a performance venue. We had, uh, mimes last month. Truly gifted, those people. [Laughs] Really? I don’t come up with all of the ideas myself, but I only agree to the shit I’m interested in. It’s kind of selfish, but I guess I’m lucky to know a lot of people who’ll toss in five dollars to enjoy it. It’s something. Compelling. I mean it. Thanks. That’s not all, though. I mean, you describe it as a “haven.” It’s very private. Some of your regulars are troubled individuals. Damn, Patricia, just say it. I feel like a cop! “Do you condone drug use in your establishment?” nonsense. But, well … I’m not explaining it. Either you—they, whoever the hell—get it or don’t. Come for the music, come to unwind however you like, doesn’t fucking matter to me as long as you’re coming with an invitation. I like to go in the back room, close the door, let the music and noise seep through. Muffled. You don’t really strike me as a partier, frankly. You never have. I wouldn’t argue with that. I like parties, but I don’t need to be at the center. Some do. That’s fine. This place is for us all.
Maybe it works out because of that, that you’re curating this space but not necessarily always in it? What do you mean? Well, you reopened it and then, if memory serves, immediately went off to do a film. The party kept going. You just like to know it’s happening. Alright, sure. That’s true. Knowing it’s there … Yeah. I like it. I was in that back room, thinking about the script, when I decided to do it, actually. Life felt like it was falling into place. It was a good time to take a leap. “’You are going to be a cowboy?��” “’No, I’m going to be a farmer.’” I had that conversation a thousand times. Reporters, man. Hey! Everyone was so surprised. I think they thought the premise was … I don’t know, that it just wasn’t something I would want to do? Or, worse, that the filmmakers wouldn’t want to work with someone like me? Unflattering assumptions, sounds like. Can’t blame them. I had a lot to prove. Still do.
How was six weeks in Texict? Fucking heaven. I loved it. My mother’s from the northwest so, even when I visited family, it wasn’t anywhere close. No reason to visit until we dropped in to do the film. Every day, I woke up happy to be alive. Happy to be doing this job. Gorgeous. I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it wasn’t just the location, was it?
No, you’re right. I felt like I was really acting—for the first time, seriously. Maybe the cast helped? I’d worked with established actors before. The leads in Sugar Sweet were—well, you know who they were. I learned a ton from them. But, yeah, I guess Sasha was the first person I’d worked alongside who had me sweating. Oh? I wanted to impress her so fucking badly. I wanted to keep up, you know? So talented. So raw. She rips every line out of her chest with her bare hands. Bloodbath of emotion. The premise was new, too. Not a lighthearted romance this time. No. We were young parents of a ill child—stressed as fuck, trying to make life work, struggling separately to be together. Can’t lie, I ate that shit up. So did the critics. Hell yeah.
Every nomination felt surreal. The recognition was incredible. Validating. Sasha and some of the others swept up. I was just honored to be up there with them, honestly. Okay, well, let’s talk about Sasha. Do we have to? Yes. Indulge me! [Grumbling] I mean, all I can really say at this point is that I was obsessed, and it wasn’t until it was over that I had the clarity of mind to really wonder, hm, “Was I in love with Sasha, my coworker, or was I in love with Sasha playing Lucy, my wife?” That seems like an occupational hazard. I wouldn’t describe it that way. You take sensitive, delusional, beautiful people, pay them to get vulnerable and intimate with each other … It’s special, even if it’s … Not genuine? No, it is that. It’s not real, but it is genuine. How else can you say, “Well, our schedules don’t line up anymore, but I’ll have this scar of our initials forever?” You do not! No, I don’t. The letter S is really hard to cut without fucking up. Not a sober man’s idea. No.
Since I have you on the topic—hey, no, absolutely not—I’m obligated to ask if there’s anyone in your life right now. How’s that? Women’s magazines can snap this up and stitch it together for themselves. This is a public service. Patricia … Yes, Lorencio?
Look, I know you do your research. I do. I’m very good at it, too. What’s that like, princess pus—Pat. Pat, I’m begging you—Are you obsessed? The letter L is easier, I bet. It is. Would you go with another L or an R?
I’m not talking about this—not for you to print, anyway. Well, talk to me as a friend, then? I’m not just professionally nosy. We’re friends? Who else calls me Pat and gets away with it? You haven’t been Trish in a long time, it’s true … [Sighs] Fuck. Someone can be precious, right? Lovable. You can hold them in your hands and think, “This person matters to me. They’re special. I like to be around them; I like to listen to them; I want their affection.” You can really, genuinely cherish someone.
But? Maybe you find their life to be completely fucking repellent. Unbearable. … Damn.
There’s parallels, though, right? I mean, fame is fame, there’s got to be value in relatability, and—There’s an open mic going on downstairs in the hotel bar right this minute. Let’s take a break, Pat, what do you say? Let’s just go watch some of it. I’ll let you print dick measurements and my deepest, darkest secrets if you say yes. [Laughs] Well, if that’s on the table—
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idesofrevolution · 2 years
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A Day at the Track
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Damn that smile. That adorable, sexy smile. One flash of it and I was hooked. I never knew what that innocent little smirk would have in store for me. Not that I didn’t enjoy every last minute of what came after. It would change me forever. Quite literally.
I’ll be the first to say that I wasn’t ever interested in motocross. But when opportunity knocks, you take the first chance you can get. So when I was offered a summer gig working at the track, I sniped it as quick as I could. It was just something until I could get a decent job, anyway. The track was loud, beat up, filled with white trash people and mosh pits. It was not my type of crowd, but it paid well at 11.50/hr. All I had to do was pretty much do whatever the rider asked me to do. I had worked there for three months, and worked with 15 riders before I was offered a job as the office manager at a tax place downtown. No more shitty racetrack job.
I put in my notice, and went to what I thought would be my last rider. That’s when I met Cash. That’s right, the Cash Rockford. As in the 6-time champion motocross rider. He was 22 years old, cocky as all hell, and plowed everything in sight; even the competition. It didn’t take me long to realize just how cocky Cash was, all I had to do was walk into his tent.
He was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t mean I didn’t see him. Posters of himself were plastered all over the canvas walls. A stack of autographed pictures sat on a table, next to all six of his top prize awards. Hawkstone. Hangtown. The biggest and most dangerous competitions in the Motocross world. As I looked around the empty tent, two white gloved hands covered my mouth and wrapped around my stomach.
“Guess who?” I felt hot breath on the back of my neck, sending goosebumps all down my spine. I pulled free, and spun around to see Cash, alive and looking rather beaten up after his first race, which I imagine he won. Fuck he was cute, I knew he was a complete asshat, but the sight of him sure made me stir a bit. “Whassup, brother?” He walked past me, tossing his helmet to the side, and laying down on his cot.
“Sorry I missed your first race, did you find everything okay?” I offered him a water bottle, which he gladly took, downing it in one try. He tossed the bottle to the side, and let out a huge belch.
“Yeah, man. Kind of a smaller tent than I’m used to.” He shifted a bit, before patting the seat next to him. “Here, sit down bro.” None of the other riders had ever extended an offer to sit down. It was unusual, but i didn’t want him to give grief to my boss. I’d hear about it, and I really wanted to keep him as a reference, so I obliged and sat down on the cot. The minute my butt touched the fabric, he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to a laying position right beside him. “Dude, relax. Take a load off.” I was uncomfortable, but secretly turned on by how aggressive he was. This guy knew exactly what he wanted, and made it happen. “So, listen. I know you’ve heard of me, so, yeah. It’s all good, I’ll give you an autograph or whatever. But gimme a second, I just gotta lay around for a minute.” He put his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, probably waiting for me to praise and worship him.
“I don’t actually know you. I don’t watch motocross.” He shot up and raised an eyebrow at me, clearly intrigued.
“Really? This is a first. You never got interested in the thrill of the bike?” I shook my head. “Never wanted to wear the helmet and leathers? Never wanted to get all the redneck babes you could handle? Never wanted to make shit tons of money for riding on pure adrenaline?” Well, when he put it that way, it did sound rather interesting. I guess it could be pretty fun. I didn’t have much time to reflect, though, before he pinned me down, and straddled me with a playful grin on that adorable cocky face. “Tell ya what, I’ll give ya a taste. If you like it, we can ride together. I need a partner for the sidecar race anyway.” I could do nothing but nod, completely taken in by the situation at hand.
Cash grabbed my throat, lightly choking me, and came real close to me. I felt that hot breath again, now on my ear, before he bit at the lobe ever so slightly. It was then that I began to smell his scent. He doused himself in Old Spice, that really good smelling island type, and beneath it all was the intense, sweaty musk that comes out of a hard race in the summer heat. He smelled like no one I’d ever encountered. It was intoxicating. He let go of my neck only to rip off his white gloves, and unzip his leathers. His body glistened with sweat, beads trailing down his smooth, lean body. He kicked his boots off, and straddled me with only his black underwear on.
“C’mon boy. I know you like it.” He ripped my shirt from my body, as I kicked off my pants. He began to lean in, and went straight for the kill. I felt his wet, sticky skin touch mine, and his silky lips locked with mine. Grinding his damp briefs against my raging boner, and literally sucking my tongue out of my mouth, precum began to seep out of my stretched boxers.
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We made out for what felt like hours, before I felt completely covered in his sexy, musky sweat. He may have had the Old Spice to cover up the smell, but I had nothing of the kind. I smelled like a wet dog, I’m sure, but I loved every minute of it. He suddenly broke our session, and sat up straight. He slowly slid off his boxers, revealing his hard, uncut cock. He grasped it and ran his tip over the sweaty appendage.
“Hey, I always had this thing for guys putting my gear on…” He leaned over and grabbed his helmet, and handed it to me. “Put it on, babe.” I did as I was ordered, and placed the helmet onto my head. I thought he smelled, but I hadn’t tried on his helmet. It stunk to high hell of sweat. It was 91 degrees out that day, so it was sopping wet with his perspiration. “Yeah, that’s so hot, babe.” He began to rub his bubble butt against my throbbing member, while his fingers twisted my nipples. He was a damn good fuck… “Put the suit on.” He ordered, and I obliged.
He rolled off me for the time being, but began to run his hands down my treasure trail, before slipping under my waistband. I gasped as I felt his slick hands touch my cock, sliding up and down beneath my pre-soaked briefs. I grabbed the suit, and as smoothly as I could, slid my feet into the legs. The heavy, wet fabric stuck to my skin as my feet and legs slid into it, before my feet poked out the ends. I pulled up the suit and slipped my arms into the sleeves, coating them in a thick smear of slimy sweat.
“Oh fuck yeah, babe. That’s so fuckin hot. You like wearing my sweaty, stinky leathers?” I nodded, gasping and moaning from his hands pumping my delicate cock. “You like how leathers feel, don’t ya?” I nodded again, inhaling a deep whiff of the musky helmet. He grabbed his boots from the floor, and slid them on my bare feet. They were still hot, damp from his rank, dirty feet. “Yeah, you like that. You like feelin’ like this.” I felt surges of energy throughout me, like I drank four energy drinks and an espresso. I was ravenous, and every passing moment I got more ravenous. He slid my underwear off from inside the unzipped suit, and began sucking. I instinctively picked up the gloves from beside me and slipped them on, my hands feeling every ounce of his fluids and essence coating me.
To the outside world, I looked like Cash Rockford. A guy in bike leathers getting his cock sucked by some hot person. I began to feel like Cash Rockford, with confidence and cockiness swelling up inside me. I grasped the back of his head and began to thrust it down, spearing it on my engorged cock. I began to think like Cash Rockford, enjoying the rush of adrenaline, enjoying the pleasure of my wet dick in a mouth. I loved it. I loved all of it. I thought of riding my bike up the steep jumps and curved banks. Feeling the sweat pour down my brow as the sun bears down on my airborne body.
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The pleasure of this revelation became too much, and I shot the biggest load of my life down Cash’s throat. I howled like a wolf, deep and guttural, the sound ringing in my head. Cash looked up at me, and gasped for breath before zipping the suit up, and straddling me once more.
“There, babe. You don’t have to dream it anymore. Just do it.” He ripped the helmet from me, revealing my new sexy face. My chiseled jawline, low brows, and plump lips were enough to make any woman or man jizz upon sight. He ran his hands down my thick, muscled body, hidden under his dirt-stained leathers. I smirked and grabbed his cum-covered face and dragged it into a kiss, thankful for my new life.
These days I spend most of my time with him on the road. We compete in sidecar competitions, and even against eachother every once in a while. He may not admit it, but I’m gettin’ to be just as good as he is. I love the bike. I love the thrill. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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meowzfordayz · 1 year
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staying in
Author’s Note: feeling cheesy and silly and lazy. ☺️😝🥱
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staying in
Hashira x Reader, Kamaboko x Reader
Word Count: ~900
CW: mild sexual content
Song Inspo: Low Key by Russell Dickerson
~faqs~
An evening in consists of…
… almost getting scammed by an astrology website with Zenitsu, before finally agreeing that the free version is fine, and who believes in astrology anyway? Clearly, you’re made for each other (despite there being some ~areas of conflict between your charts). 
… board games with Inosuke until one of you rage quits, and the other has to convince them to: stop sulking in the bathroom, and play again. Who rage quits usually depends on the game, and you’re much better at goading him into another round than he is at bribing you.
… a quiet stroll out with Gyomei, so not exactly staying in, but still more peaceful and mindful than going to a bar or attending an event. He compares your presence to the radiant fullness of the moon, and you tuck a fallen flower behind his ear. “How do you know what the moon feels like?” He doesn’t quite know how to explain gentle, mystical tug of moonrise, so he settles for, “I can feel you, and that is more than enough.”
… cleaning and redecorating Kaburamura’s cage with Obanai. It’s a little gross, and a lot of a fun. From teasing him for his obvious doting, “Does Kaburamura really need six donut cozies?” to being flat out rejected, “Sooo that’s a no to body painting? It’s safe for humans! How could it not be safe for snakes?” You end up falling asleep as he dutifully photographs Kaburamura curled up on your shoulder #guess I’ll finish cleaning by myself.
… doing Tanjirou’s make up, and him doing yours. If you don’t own any make up, then you go on a field trip (minimal budget). You randomly pick themes (old fashioned via “from a hat” or modern via “app for raffle draw”), set a time limit, and then send photos of your final looks to your Hashira + Kamaboko group chat to decide on a winner.
… making the most outlandish cocktails (or mocktails) you can think of with Mitsuri. They have to be intricate, original, AND taste delicious (~just okay suffices too), or you put on a pair of socks. By the end of the evening, you’re drunk (or sugar high) as heck, and have at least four pairs of socks on.
… a project with Shinobu. Whether that’s tackling a Lego set, making candles, or deep cleaning a specific room (likely the kitchen or bathroom), the laughter is ever constant, frustration to be expected, and resulting pride and excitement at the final product a worthy reward — not to mention the way she kisses you afterward! *happy sigh*
… cooking with Kyojuro #bet you didn’t see that coming #sarcasm intended teehee. Sometimes it’s complicated, hours long endeavors; other times it’s spaghetti; and there’s always take out if your fancy Huntsman pie doesn’t go to plan. He’s almost unbearably efficient when it comes to cooking tidily, and chops vegetables so quickly that you just marvel at how his fingers are intact.
… watching a movie with Sanemi. This includes: ~arguing over which movie to watch for a solid hour (give or take), another twenty minutes for snack prep, and another half an hour to spontaneously design and build a pillow fort (for the optimal movie watching experience, of course). Even when it’s a movie he swears he despises, he’ll still stay awake through the whole damn thing because it matters to you, and you matter to him.
… creating scavenger hunts for each other with Muichiro. You roll dice to determine who gets to claim which room(s) and in what order, set up your hunts, and then hunt (duh)! Winner gets to choose dinner (or dessert if you already ate dinner), and loser gets to cook aforementioned dinner (or dessert). You usually win, but he notices when you begin making his clues easier, and promptly informs you that he’d rather lose honestly than win on Easy Mode. “Your happy noises whenever I feed you are prize enough for me.”
… planning your future with Giyuu. It’s easy to get caught up in the mayhem of Life™, so evenings in are a grounding, intimate opportunity to reconnect and recenter with him. From cuddling on the couch to dancing in the kitchen to watching the moon’s traverse through your favorite window, you discuss current stressors, recent successes, and your gratitude for each other. It may seem simple, but it’s the little things that fit most snugly in your hearts. “Where do you see us in a year? Five years? A decade?” you ask. His answer remains constant: “Together.”
… reading with Tengen. He’ll read to you, or you to him; you’ll share a book, or the couch, or the bed; and you alternate who gets up to brew more tea. If you prefer audio books, then he’ll occasionally eavesdrop, and when it’s your turn to be on tea duty, you more often than not return to a cute sticky note (with dramatic commentary regarding the chapter you’re on) bookmarking your page.
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yourdoorisunlocked · 2 months
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Kill Your Darlings - Part Two
𝐀/𝐍: Ok, this was a little too short for my tastes, so I'll post pt. 3 soon (which is already done and a lot longer than this since PLOT) but enjoy!
➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 | 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟏,𝟗𝟐𝟗
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A suffocating choke of panic tore at your insides at the sound of the demon’s voice, ringing loud and clear through the pristine speakers of the vintage radio, the haunted device still clutched in the shadow's dark, bony talons. 
The apparition's form crackled with static as your back went rigid and the muscles in your thighs tensed against your armchair, prepared to run at the first sign of danger.
Christ, I might start praying again if this shit keeps happening-! 
“Have you gone hard of hearing, my dear? Or are you truly that inhospitable of a hostess?” The demon was practically grinning through the speakers as it teased you, taking you completely off-guard. His voice that had haunted your dreams was so wildly different and... hauntingly charming, in a soul-rattling way.
“W-What the hell do you want...?” 
“Oh, I’m only checking in on my favorite little human~, making sure my visit didn’t rattle you, too much~...”
He chuckled huskily through the speakers, and you would’ve rolled your eyes at the flatter, had you not been terrified to your core. Being the favorited among the poor souls that some psychotic demon specialized in collecting was no prize to be sought after, nor should it be even considered a compliment.  
Unfortunately for you, this was now your reality. Being the favored among the demon’s possibly vast collection of toys. 
“Favorite? What, because you own my soul, or some shit?”  
The demon laughed, his deep, rich voice summoning a kaleidoscope of butterflies into your stomach. “Oho, you catch on quite quickly, my dear!”
He chuckled heartily for a few more seconds, and the tension in your shoulders was suddenly released at his seemingly laid-back posture. 
“Though, I’d say it’d have something to do with that spitfire tongue of yours,” his voice tickled like a warning against your ears, bringing an underlying feeling of unease. 
Tread carefully, now. Don’t do anything to piss him off. 
“Alright then, fair enough," you leaned against your chair, trying to get your nerves to relax as a healthy dose of pumping adrenaline screamed for you to run far, far away from this beast. That associating with him would only spell your demise.
“Tell me your name.” 
“Hm?” The shadow tilted its head at you, like a confused puppy. It was as if the demon was moving through it, or the shadow was moving for him. Like a puppet.
You huffed. “If I have to ‘devote my soul’ to you, or whatever, I should at least have something to call you,” you let your sentence hang in the air, almost anxious for the demon’s answer as he hummed at your suddenly bold attitude.  
How naive. I can smell your fear from here, my Doe. 
And what a choice of words! Devote your soul to him? A deliciously intimate sentiment that he quite liked, much more than he’d care to admit. 
“Well, I suppose that’s a given...” you sat unblinking while the demon seemed to think it over, and pinpointed the trans-Atlantic accent of his that excited the air with a lively vintage flair. One that a deeply buried part of you that should shut the fuck up found quite charming.
“The name’s Alastor, my dear! And yours?” The shadow leapt forward out of its chair and loomed over you, extending its hand for you to take as its eerie smile stretched across its face even further.
Alastor, huh? Not exactly a name you’d hear being tossed around on the streets, these days.  
You hesitantly took the shadow’s hand and told him your name, plus a polite, “It’s... Nice to meet you, I guess. Again.” 
Narrowing your eyes from the memory of the rather unpleasant experience of meeting the new owner of your soul, you cleared your throat.
There were many questions that you had for this... Alastor. First and foremost, how the hell did he acquire your soul? Why did he sound like he was from a completely different time? What did he look like? Was he going to drag you down into Hell with him?
Those were among the more important ones.
“I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind, Alastor...” 
He shivered from the other end of the line, gripping his microphone with fervor. Oh, how he loved to hear his name pour from your pretty lips. 
“Ask away, my dear~,” the shadow leaned against the chair with a purr, gazing down at you with half-lidded eyes as the radio beside it hummed with static. 
Okay, start with something easy. “How did you even get my soul to begin with?” 
“My, my! You don’t start small, do you?” Alastor grinned into the microphone. Ah, yes, the tale of how he stumbled across your gem of a soul and was promised a soul slave that would tend to him for all of eternity. Such an offer was just too intriguing to refuse! 
Who knew the blonde starlet was hiding such a cute little jewel right up her sleeve? 
“It just so happened that a dear friend of mine was in possession of your soul. They simply offered up yours, in return for all their painfully predictable greed and lust satisfied. Quite the clever loophole, if you ask me!” You bristled slightly. Prying answers from the demon might be a bit more difficult than you thought.
How vague. Touché, Alastor. 
You watched as the shadow’s claws drummed upon the arm rest of the sofa, awaiting for your next question.
“And just what are you going to do with me, when I...” Your eyes flickered with a solemn emotion, knowing that your fate of being chained to this demon would surely drag you down into the blazing basement was guaranteed at this point. 
“Ohoho, you have no idea, do you~?” 
The hairs on the back of your neck rose and goose bumps prickled along your arms as the shadow towered over you, making you curl in on yourself as its lanky, wispy arms came to cage you underneath it.
A long, lithe tongue came to swipe across its lower lip, making an embarrassing heat pool just above your crossed legs. 
“It’s what I’m going to do to you that counts, my darling,” the shadow remained there for a moment longer and leaned ever so close so that you were mere centimeters away.
You couldn't move, couldn't close your eyes, and no deep-seated, primal fear could be found, now. Only shameful fantasies invading your headspace, before the shadow pulled away and settled back onto the couch with a wide, crooked smile while purring proudly, clearly very pleased with itself.
“Now, I do believe I deserve to ask a question of my own, my dear.” The apparition smirked down at you while you sank in your seat with flushed cheeks, still shaken from a dose of tonal whiplash.
“Alright...”  
“Just where do we happen to be? Why, I do wonder whether we’re in the States at all!” Alastor laughed boisterously, and a part of you winced at how fake it sounded. No, perhaps hollow was the word. It was like he was wearing a showman’s mask around you, pretentious and forced, and you hoped you wouldn’t have to live with it for long. 
He’d somehow manage to be even more unbearable... 
“We’re in New Orleans."
Pure silence met you, though the shadow had spoken for its master, as it excitedly raced over to the window like an eager child looking through the frost-paned window of a toy store during Christmastime, garnering a nice view of the city its owner so dearly adored. 
The radio buzzed and whirred behind you, as if it would jump up from its spot on the table. “Is that so?” 
You nodded. “Just moved here, a few weeks ago. Have you ever been?” 
“Have I been here?” He laughed incredulously. “Why, I was born and raised here!” Pride oozed from every syllable as the shadow stood tall with its chest puffed out, while you gripped the edge of your seat.
So, he was once a human?
“Really?” Though Alastor could not see you as of right now, he liked to imagine the cute shock flashing in your eyes, the way your brows raised and how you leaned over the chair as it creaked beneath your shifting weight. “What was it like, living here? When did you die?” 
“Hm... Just around the thirties, if I remember correctly!” He reveled in your soft gasp of shock. “Let me tell you, it was quite the time to be alive!” 
The shadow had stepped away from the window, walking around the living room and making dramatic gestures that carried the flair and elegance of a true showman. Along with Alastor’s addictive voice, it was like watching a live show.
And you were drinking up every drop.
“And, oh, the music! Perhaps one of these days, I’ll show you how to properly cut a rug,” the shadow winked down at you, bristling with glee at your flustered laughter. 
You watched as the shadow paced back and forth while Alastor chatted your ears off, finding your ice-cold resolve to avoid this demon at all costs deteriorating by the minute. 
But, still, all good things had to come to an end, as they say.
“Alright, alright, this has been fun, but...” you side-eyed your work laptop that sat innocently upon the kitchen countertop. “I really need to get to work, now.” 
The shadow drooped, its seemingly permanent smile dripping into a frown. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to abandon a lovely afternoon with me for that,” Alastor sneered at the laptop as the shadow pointed towards it accusingly, “silly, pompous, piece-of-shit, whatever the hell it is.” 
You sighed, standing your ground reluctantly. “Trust me, it’s not like I love working, but, hey, you know how it is.”  
Walking over to the laptop, you rolled your eyes as the shadow hissed lowly. “I won’t be long, okay? Now, unless having my soul warrants you keeping me from paying the bills, I’m getting to work.” 
“At least tell me what kind of entertainment it can provide that I can’t,” Alastor spat as the shadow crossed his arms and stood rigid above the laptop with a sharp scowl. 
“I told you, it’s not entertainment, it’s my job,” you replied with exasperation, “I’m an editor for a publishing company. Now, shoo, shoo, I have a manuscript to review,” you boldly waved your hands at the shadow in a ‘go on, git,’ motion. 
The shadow hunched over you with a low growl, its antlers stretching towards the ceiling as a harsh crackle of static pierced your ears.
“Now, is that any way to talk to your Master?”
A spike of fear tried prying you in the other direction towards the door, but a flicker of irritation at his very interesting choice of words won out against your sudden spine-chilling terror. 
“I don’t believe you have that right to call yourself my Master just yet,” your eye twitched as you clenched your fists, instantly reminded of who – no, what you were dealing with. You couldn’t have felt more stupid to be swayed by his charms in that moment. 
“Alright, then, have it your way,” the shadow curled around you with a low, almost seductive purr, tilting your chin upwards with a single, inky talon. “But know that I’ll be cashing in on that statement, when you eventually fall to me.” 
You raised an eyebrow, pupils thinning in a challenge. “Oh? And what makes you think I’m going to Hell with you?” 
“Oh, you will, darling. Trust me, you will.” 
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𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Next chapter will be lengthier but right now I'm just building up the ✨pLoT✨ so don't worry :) But the updates will be faster on my A03 account just because making them on Tumblr takes more time.
𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭: Forgot to use the updated taglist 😭 I'm sorry about that
. . .
➺ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid
@slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @ashdaidiot, @crybabycat1, @repostingmyfavs, @crazii-saber-wolf, @reikamasama, @dudesorriso, @speckle-meow-meow, @alastor-simp
@maggotzdilemma
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heyidkyay · 3 months
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10 Things Y/n Can't Live Without | GQ
Got to watching Matty's old one of these and just decided to try and write one for reader, it's silly and short but if it might be something you're into then I hope you enjoy x
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“Hi GQ, I’m Y/n, and you might’ve heard a couple of my songs if you’re stuck watching this- if not, then boo, you suck.”
She pauses, thinking on it, then winces slightly and looks straight past the cameras at one of the shoot’s directors. 
“Can I say that? Is that too mean?” Before anyone can actually answer though, she waves a hand, “Ah fuck it, I don’t care. If Matty can act like a twat on his one, then so can I.” She bears a giant grin and then the lens closes in, switching from frame to frame to capture the few items she’s brought in. 
“Why are you here then today?”
She blinks and then exaggerates her eyes at the sudden reminder, “Not even five minutes in and I’ve already messed this up. But yeah, sorry! Today, I’ve brought in my ten essential items, and I guess you’re wanting to see them.” 
Wiggling her fingers, the scene then changes. 
1 - “A Lighter.”
She hums in reply to the voice, looking down at the item and then back up again. “I bet, like, if you had Harry Styles on here, his first thing would be something really nice and lovely, like Emma by Jane Austen. Seems the type, right?”
Scratches her nose in thought, “But no, you’ve just got me.”
“And what a privilege it is.”
She laughs and gives a mock bow.
“Anyway, yeah.” She continues on, fiddling with the clunky silver antique in her hand, “Not much to say about it, really. If you need a light, I’m your gal. Always prepped for arson or the odd joint.”
“Okay, probably shouldn’t say that.”
“Right, yeah ‘course, sorry. Um, don’t smoke weed then, kids?” She points at the camera with a mocking salute before the scene then changes again and she’s asked to flick open the lighter for a different shot. 
There’s a click and then the flame dies.
2 - A ziplock bag sits on top of the table. A basic run of the mill seal-again with a fading Tesco’s branded on one side.
“Ah, this is probably my most prized possession, I reckon.” Her eyes dance under the studio lights and a few chuckles can be heard from behind the camera.
“What are we looking at here?”
She drags the plastic baggy in closer and unzips it, taking a sniff of the strong scent that escapes. “Tea bags.”
“Tea bags? What kind?”
“Yorkshire through and through. Here in the states it’s so hard to find even a basic PG pyramid, let alone one of these babies.” She cradles it close to her chest, “Honestly would kill for a brew right now. But these things help me whenever I get a little too homesick- both on tour and when I’m just travelling.”
“Very lovely.”
“Very British.” She corrects with a wide grin.
3 - “I honestly want to meet the person who first invented headphones, because? Wow. What a man.” She sighs, almost reverently, opening up the AirPods case she holds with a single hand, one which seems to be covered in tiny stickers and a difficult to read engraving. 
“Reckon they had to have been the world's biggest introvert at the time. I mean, just imagine shoving shit into your ears trying to escape the idiots sat ‘round you, but then doing one better and deciding that you’d much rather prefer to listen to something sick.”
“How are they essential to you?”
“It'll sound dramatic. But I actually feel like I’d be lost without them? In a sad way. They let me disconnect when I need to, and with a job like mine that’s really hard to do at times.”
“And the last song you listened to?”
She smirks, eyes squinting at the question as she glances into camera one. “A demo.”
“One of yours?”
She merely laughs, and the joyful sound of it echoing around the studio space. “No, I wish! We’ll be waiting on that one for a while longer still.”
4 - The next item is slid into shot.
“Ah, my phone.” She clutches it in one hand but looks down at it, almost saddened. 
“It feels so stupid to say it’s an essential, because I miss the old days when we were all forced to go outside and knock about. But it really is. It has everything I need to keep me safe stored on there and also keeps me updated on things happening back home, just stuff like that. Plus, it really helps to keep my brain occupied on long flights and during meetings. So there’s always an upside.”
“What kind of case do you have on it?”
Her nose wrinkles as she glances down at the battered protecting she’s had since she first got the phone, and hums, “Just one of them hardshell ones- that what they're called? But yeah, it was a present- very much me, or so I’ve been told- and I was grateful for it. It’s scratched to bits now though, but my screen has yet to break!”
She winces, “I say that, but that’s it now. The next time it drops it’ll shatter, won’t it?”
5 - We watch as she sits a clunky old disposable before herself. It’s black and yellow, and slightly scuffed, but looks very well loved.
“Pretty self-explanatory. Just a camera, I take pictures, these things pair well together.” She turns it on and an unexpected flash goes off, “The price to print film is fucking extortionate though. So, don’t expect a copy of that.” She chuckles, alongside a couple of the camera crew and then slides the camera further down the table. 
“If anyone were to get hold of it though, they’d have a proper field day- but alas, what happens on tour, stays on tour.”
6 - The next item is one she toys with for a long moment, looking down at its yellowed pages before settling it down gently before her so that the camera can get a close up.
“A novel?”
She shakes her head, wearing the beginnings of a fond smile.
“No, this little beauty is my first child.” She states, splaying a hand over the cover of a leatherbound journal. Which earns her a few raised brows that she just laughs at before picking the thing up to flick through. “It is! But it’s also your quintessential songbook. Packed full of stories and lyrics and messy scrawl. I’ve got things sellotaped in there too, just as reminders or for when I lack inspiration.”
“What sort of things?”
With a hum, she thinks about it. “Bottlecaps? Um, a couple polaroids... Think there’s a seashell or two in there as well, from the time I was visiting a friend of mine in Barbados. So yeah, I’ve had it for years, just keep adding pages in. Need a new one though. Desperately.”
“Can we have a look inside?”
She peers down the book, hands cradling it almost protectively now, then chews on her lower lip.
“You can say no.”
Her eyes dart upwards again, “No, you’re all good. It’s just personal, you know? But yeah, I can show you the first page or so.”
Slipping off the elastic binding it altogether, the book practically bursts open on its own. She’s quick to flick to the very first page, which sports a couple of film pictures as well as the odd sticker, but is mainly just filled with miniscule scribbles.
The camera zooms in for a closer shot.
“So, all the doodles and wobbly words are just from friends or other writers I’ve worked with.” She points to a little drawing of a t-rex in the corner, “This here, was my mate George’s work. He’s vandalised quite a bit of this book, I can’t lie. But we’ve known each other for ages, and he’s produced and worked on most of my music.”
Then she trails her finger lower and across a couple of names, “There, Lewis Capaldi wrote that I’ve got a great arse, and then Noel Gallager graced a corner with his scribbled signature- still aiming to get Liam’s somehow. But I’m working on it.” 
She peers a little closer, looking for another story or detail to mention, “Oh, down here you can see a bit of blood! Like two or three splatters that stain the page.” She grins wickedly and glances back up at the camera, “That was from a time I tagged along to a Bring Me The Horizon tour, way back when. Oli sliced his hand on a guitar string and it was a proper mess. Bit mad looking back on it actually.
“What can you tell us about that main photo?”
She practically beams at the question, her gaze immediately shooting back towards the picture sat in the page’s very centre. It’s square and has its own doodled frame.
“That’s me and a couple of very good friends of mine. Bit of a difficult picture to make out, but only because it was taken with a flash and it’s about a decade old now.” She relays, dropping the notebook down on her forearm so that the camera guy can get a better look. “That’s Hann and Ross, and there’s G’s big smile. My oldest mate, Vin, is the idiot leaning over the shoulder of my cousin, Lol, in that very top corner, and then at the bottom there is Matty and I.”
“Very cosy.”
She smirks.
7 - “Number seven, what have you got for us?”
She huffs around an amused smile, “Do you know how hard it was to think of ten items? Like, if I was back home I’d’ve probably brought my mum’s dog along- or my settee. But I’m not, so I got stuck and as I was thinking about it I figured that these had to be an essential of mine. ‘Cause when I’m with the guys I’m sort of known for always having some sort of sweet treat on me.”
A pack of Haribo is placed down onto the table, alongside a red and yellow wrapped lollipop and a single bar of chocolate.
“So, you lot haven’t got any Tangfastics here- which is, I can’t even begin to fathom how you survive. Someone start a petition, please. But anyway, instead I’ve got these Zing things? Which are similar but not as good, no hate! Just the truth.”
She shrugs gently before opening the packet up and nicking one, then offers the rest of the packet outwards, smiling as a few step forward. 
“These two… these are from back home.” She claims as she drags the remaining two items nearer, “The lolly is a drumstick, don’t know if you have them here, or have even heard of them, but we typically get them in mixed or party bags back home. They’re a favourite, but I reckon that’s just mainly down to my mum’s love of them. And then this,” She moves swiftly on, twirling a wrapped chocolate bar between her fingers whilst she smiles, “This is one item I can't live without. They’re the messiest things, but taste so fucking good.”
“What’s it called?”
“A flake? Usually we get them on a 99, but they do them in multipacks and in like your local.”
“A 99?”
Her eyes widen theatrically before she drops her head into her hands, “I can’t do this today. Do you really not know what I’m on about?”
8 - A blue passport is chucked up in the air and she almost topples out of her chair to catch it.
“Ha!” She grins, waving the thing about smugly before dropping it down again. “This felt so stupid to include, but I couldn’t not. I need this for most places I go; hotels, airports… sometimes even a club if I’ve forgotten or lost my ID. But yeah, I couldn't just show you a pack of Haribo and then not include my passport.”
9 - A clinking breaks up the quiet filming they’ve been wrapped up in as they move onto the next item.
“House keys!” She exclaims happily, rattling the horde of keys she now carries.
“To how many houses?”
She rolls her eyes, not unkindly, and then smiles, wrapping the keys up in between her palms. “Three. But don’t worry, they’re not all mine!” She feels the ridiculous need to make known, but she only receives a few curious glances in return.
Taking the first set between her forefinger and thumb, a silver key and brass chub, she shows them off to the camera lens, “These are to my mum and dad’s house, they let me in through the front door whenever I want. Although I guess they're more so for emergencies, ‘cause I still like to knock when I turn up.” She shrugs a single shoulder, swiping through the keys again, “Also have the one to their garage on here somewhere as well- see, it’s that small one right there.”
Next, she dangles a single fob key and another silver cut in view. “These are mine. They let me past the front gate and the other one opens the majority of whatever else. Probably shouldn't be letting the world know that.” She snorts, but ultimately shrugs before moving onto the last of the three.
“And these,” She says as she rattles the chain to reveal a rather large horde of other keys, “Are to my very first flat. I shared it with a mate at first then things evolved and changed, so we moved onto something bigger.”
“Why do you keep them?”
“Why not?” She quips, grinning down at the set, “I mean, they hold a lot of sentimental value to me. Not just in the sense that they belonged to my very first place, but the memories I made there.”
She smiles back up at the camera a second later, now holding a little lego person that had been dangling from one of the many rings, “And there’s this little guy, too. Never had the heart to get rid of him or separate him from the others, so he just stays there. He’s beyond recognition now and definitely seen some shit, I can’t lie- actually, you can barely even make out his face or the shirt he’s wearing. See?”
She holds the yellow figure further outwards. She’s right about how disfigured the thing is, but there’s a slight mohawk to be seen and a faded outline of what once would’ve been its shirt.
“Can you remember where it came from?”
“‘Course! A friend, at the time, gave it to me. I got proper jealous of the one he’d been given at some wedding or other, like, just loved playing with it whenever we were driving and stuff. I did end up forgetting I had them at times though, so he got me one of my own just so that he could finally have his keys back.”
Her laughter is contagious, and she looks to be caught up in the memory of it.
10 - “I haven’t really got a tenth one!”
Her claim is met with quiet protests to which she mirthfully shakes her head at, “Honest! I was really stressing about it on the way over here.” She chuckles before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Have you got a special mention then? Something you’d like to claim your tenth spot?”
She gives a wily little smile, as though she’s just thought of something but can’t say it. “I do.”
A silence settles, and they’re waiting for her to continue on so they can wrap up the shoot, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Well?” One of the directors asks with an intrigued chuckle, wanting to know now.
That smirk of hers doesn’t dim and so she just shrugs, “I can’t say, but they’ll know. And they’ll be so miffed they didn’t think of it first.” She almost cackles at the thought but just shakes her head instead, grinning away happily.
“They?”
“Uhuh,” She agrees and then sits up further in her chair, a sudden realisation hitting her, “You know what? I think this essentially is my ‘get away’ bag.”
“Pretty sure Matty said something of a similar degree.”
A scowl etches into her features at that and she rolls her eyes, “Oh my God. He’s such a copycat-”
“You have your ten essentials now.”
“I do! I have my ten essentials.” She smiles into the lens, eyes skimming over the people laid out beyond it, “Honestly thank you all so much for having me, this has actually been pretty fun. Like, sort of got to go down memory lane and whatnot.”
“Glad to have had you.”
“So, I guess the question now is, who’s on next?”
Comments:
@/user actually obsessed w her @/user so many questions 😭😭 @/user Swear I’ve seen that lighter before ⤷ @/user :link to an old instagram picture on @/the1975 account: @/user anyone see what was engraved on the airpods case? @/user A demo?? I swear if it’s one of the bands I’ll sob. @/user HER SONGBOOK. THAT PICTURE. THE FACT THAT SHE HAS OLI’S DNA JUST ON HAND ⤷ @/user They’re so cute. It hurts. @/user i want Lewis to look at my ass:/ @/user George’s lil dino kills me off 😭 @/user ‘What happens on tour, stays on tour.’ WHAT HAPPENS ON TOUR Y/N? ⤷ @/user THE WAY SHE JUST SMIRKS TOO @/user What this video’s taught me, if you need an arson accomplice yn is your gal x @/user The lego man’s shirt!! Definitely a box there. ⤷ @/user And the mohawk too?? Dead giveaway. @/user Her tenth has got to be Matty no? @/user THE WHOLE HOUSE KEYS BIT? WHAT?? Didn’t she share a flat with Matty at one point? ⤷ @/user No, they did. But also “..things evolved and changed, so we moved onto something bigger.” So WE moved… WE 🙂  ⤷⤷ @/user We’re really just skipping over “a friend, at the time” then.. Okay! @/user 6:12 That bit at the end?! They?? This has to be about Matty, right? He’s the only one who’s been on before! @/user Have they always been together? This has me so confused rn 😭 ⤷ @/user Welcome to the club lovely!:) ⤷⤷ @/user At this point I’m actually scared we’ll never know ngl ⤷⤷⤷ @/user They are my roman empire @/user Can we get one of the Derry Girls on please! It’s not a want, but a need.
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Note
Prompt: Fuck-or-die, post Canon married Wangxian. WWX gets hit with sex pollen/curse when LWJ isn't present. He decide that 'yes he would rather die' than having sex with anyone else. His companions are trying to get LWJ there or convince WWX to fuck and meanwheile WWX are handing out instructions for how to resurect him/planning out possession/creating a new body/in general how to return from the dead again. You decide if LWJ gets there in time or they have to use one of WWX:s plans.
WANT: Wangxian
DNW: Wangxian with anyone else, unhappy ending
ao3
“So I guess I die then?” Wei Wuxian asked.
He looked disturbingly cheerful about the idea, but possibly that was just the aftereffects of his fit of laughter when he found out exactly what the curse he’d been hit with did.
Or possibly he was just laughing because he’d managed, through a considerable exertion of effort and purposeful obstinance, to get Lan Qiren to actually say the words “fuck or die” out loud. The latter was now looking thoroughly peeved and much less concerned about the imminent demise of the newest member of the Cloud Recesses than he had a little while earlier, which was also a benefit.
“What are you talking about?” Jin Ling demanded, having not calmed down in the slightest. He looked irritated and worried at the same time – he  reallyrather resembled his uncle at the moment, since both of them scowling at Wei Wuxian as if he had personally insulted their mothers. “Of course you’re not going to die!”
“You heard Teacher Lan,” Wei Wuxian said with a shrug. “It’s fuck-or-die, right? And Lan Zhan, who is the only person I’d consider for the first part, isn’t here. So I guess I’m just going to have to die.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Jiang Cheng hissed, even as the junior disciples started urgently murmuring amongst themselves, sounding similar to a flock of pheasants that had just been disturbed. “You lived – and died, and lived again – through too much to die to a half-rate curse like this. You’re not going to die. Can’t you just break it?”
“It’s tied to his cultivation,” Lan Qiren said, voice deep and grave. He had been amongst the most worried at first, rushing over to check Wei Wuxian’s pulse and run diagnostics over the array circle that had inflicted the curse, exerting himself to the utmost to try to figure out what had happened; it had rather thoroughly undercut his reputation for hating Wei Wuxian bitterly as the unworthy pig that had dug up his family’s prized cabbage. Perhaps as consequence, he was now almost pointedly ignoring the current goings-on, seated some distance away with a cup of tea and every appearance that he planned not to care about the results. Just as clearly, however, he wasn’t actually not listening. “If he was as strong as he was in his first life, it might be possible. But with his current level of cultivation…it is impossible to break it from within, and it cannot be broken from without absent a fulfilling of the curse’s conditions.”
The disturbed murmurs among the juniors grew notably louder, and more severe.
“Then he can take care of it, surely?” Jiang Cheng asked. His eye had started twitching. “If the solution involves – ah – if it’s a matter of – of pleasure –”
“Jiang Cheng, really! Are you suggesting I go jerk off to feel better?” Wei Wuxian asked, as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as he’d ever been. He offered an accompanying illustrative gesture, as if concerned that all around him might not know what he meant.
Lan Qiren closed his eyes and turned his head away, visibly grinding his teeth.
“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng growled at Wei Wuxian, his cheeks having gone red with embarrassment. “Just – shut up! What’s wrong with the idea?!”
“Teacher Lan? Would you like to explain?”
Lan Qiren was still refusing to look at any of them, and even shifted slightly so that he was turned even further away from Wei Wuxian in particular.
“Well, for one thing, it wouldn’t work as a practical matter,” Wei Wuxian said, deciding to explain himself. “See, the amount of jerking off it would take for me to equal a single session with Lan Zhan would be just, you know, unbelievably enormous – even more enormous than Lan Zhan’s – mmmm!”
Lan Qiren had used the silencing spell on Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian waived his hands at the older man, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that was simultaneously obnoxious, obscene, and trying to convey as clearly as he could if you keep me quiet you’re going to have to be the one to answer the question, you know.
Lan Qiren, very bitterly and begrudgingly, removed the silencing spell.
“I was going to say his stamina, you know,” Wei Wuxian sniffed, although the shit-eating grin on his faces suggested he had been intending no such thing. “It’s well known throughout the cultivation world that Lan Zhan has remarkably stamina.”
“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said through gritted teeth. “Would you like to get to the point?”
“Fine, fine. Always in such a rush, Jiang Cheng – no wonder you never married! Some things are best taken slow…okay, okay, put Zidian away already! It’s like you think it’s your life on the line here, not mine!” Wei Wuxian laughed. No one else did. “Anyway, it’s quite simple. Using sexual pleasure in order to fulfil the fuck part of the curse has to involved at least two people in order to qualify as a curse breaking mechanism. It’s the same reason as before: the curse is attached to my cultivation, and it can only be broken from the inside, not the outside, only I’m not strong enough to do it myself. Dual cultivation is one of the few ways in which two cultivators can bring their spiritual energy close enough together that they would both be ‘inside’ the range of the curse’s prohibition, causing a disruption in the victim’s spiritual energy sufficient to disperse the prohibition and defeat the curse – thus, the ‘fuck-or-die’ nature of the fuck-or-die curse.” He beamed at everyone. “Educational, isn’t it?”
No one seemed especially impressed.
“Senior Wei,” Lan Sizhui said politely, after a short interval. “Please educate us. How would you break a – break this type of curse?”
“Silly question! It’s in the name: fuck or you die.”
Disturbed murmurs.
“And, again, I’m not fucking anyone who’s not Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian added cheerfully. “So don’t even ask. There is literally no one here that I would be willing to fuck.”
“So…you’re just planning on dying?” Jin Ling asked. He looked upset. He wasn’t the only one, either – any number of the juniors looked upset, and that was besides Jiang Cheng, whose eyes were starting to look glassy with tears of rage or possibly just unexpressed emotion. “That’s it? You’re just going to give up and die?”
“Hey, it’s not like I haven’t died before –”
“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng roared.
Wei Wuxian promptly held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Sore spot, I know, I know…listen, it’s not that bad, okay?”
“What, because you’ve read up on all the cool new resurrection techniques?!”
“He’d better not have,” Lan Qiren muttered. “Not in the Cloud Recesses.”
“I swear I’ve only been in the Forbidden Section of the library for purely extracurricular purposes, and only when I’ve been very closely supervised by Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Qiren virtuously, and just as virtuously ignored the scowl that immediately appeared on Lan Qiren’s face at what ‘supervision’ of ‘extracurricular’ activities his nephew might have been doing with Wei Wuxian in the library. “Jiang Cheng, you worry too much. Do I look worried?”
“That’s no guarantee that you know what you’re doing, Senior Wei,” Ouyang Zizhen pointed out. “Sometimes you’re just like that.”
“Ouch. You’re right, but, you know, ouch. Anyway, in this case, you should trust me. You’re all just thinking too hard.”
A lot of silence, and staring.
“Teacher Lan, work with me here. They’re thinking too much, right?”
Lan Qiren huffed, which was just about confirmation.
“…wait,” Lan Jingyi said. He looked suspicious. “Is that what this is? Have you been trying to get around the curse by fucking with us?”
“Jingyi!” Lan Qiren snapped, and Lan Jingyi jumped.
“Would a mind-fuck work?” Jin Ling asked his uncle, who scowled and shrugged, clearly unsure himself.
“It would not,” Lan Qiren said icily.
“Actually, the way I like to think of it,” Wei Wuxian said, grinning harder than ever, “is that it’s really just a matter of fuck around and find out –”
At this point, Lan Qiren huffed once more, got up, and walked over to Wei Wuxian in three long, purposeful strides. Lifting one finger, he jabbed it right at Wei Wuxian’s chest, over his heart.
“Fuck off.”
Wei Wuxian collapsed onto the ground.
A moment later, he blinked and sat up, grinning once more, and there was no longer the aura of curse hanging around him – even the remaining resentful energy was already dissipating.
“Such curses are exceedingly pedestrian,” Lan Qiren informed their audience, voice toneless as ever but a scowl firmly on his face. “‘Death’ is interpreted as the cessation of heartbeat, which temporarily disrupts the flow of spiritual energy in a manner similar to dual cultivation. A momentary freezing spell, aimed precisely, can simulate the effects, causing the victim of the curse to ‘die’ for the purposes of the curse – the disruption of spiritual energy is similar in nature to what happens during dual cultivation, just as Wei Wuxian described earlier, and there is therefore the same effect.”
“Thus, the ‘fuck or die’ aspects of the fuck-or-die curse,” Wei Wuxian said. He was beaming so hard it looked almost painful. “Teacher Lan, did you really tell me to fuck off?”
“It was richly deserved,” Lan Qiren informed him, and, with a flick of his sleeves, headed back towards the Cloud Recesses, his head held high. Presumably he was going to go punish himself for breaching the rule on vulgar language, and maybe the one about rage...again.
Wei Wuxian was so good.
“Thank you, Teacher Lan!” Wei Wuxian called after him. “You’re my favorite uncle-in-law..!”
He sniggered, then turned back to the juniors.
“See,” he said. “I told you that you were overthinking…”
He trailed off, presumably seeing something in Jiang Cheng’s expression.
“Uh,” Wei Wuxian said. “I would like to emphasize that at no point was I ever actually in danger of dying. That wasn’t going to happen. I was just playing around –”
“Pity,” Jiang Cheng said, and purple lightening started sparking around his hand. “Because I’m going to kill you –”
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