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#laughing through tears doing peace signs
alexvals · 9 months
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tojipie · 6 months
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crybaby reader! but it isn’t toji who makes her upset, it’s someone else maybe some guy at her college how would toji react?
i honestly want to dedicate a proper blocked off chunk of my masterlist to this pairing :(( this is for the extreme social anxiety girlies who can only ever be around their boyfies (me)
content: hurt/comfort, fluff, severely introverted reader, anxiety
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every hour spent in this class was more time to yourself to mull over why you’d let toji convince you to take an in-person course for once.
you’d gotten through college just fine these past few semesters, sitting through your lectures from the comfort of your living room. most of your school day was spent cuddled up with your back pressed to your boyfriend’s chest, where you were safe. 
you liked your routine, you craved order. there was nothing wrong with doing school online, in fact, you much preferred it that way over making the infuriating commute to school every morning.
toji had liked your routine just fine too, boasting about how nice it was to have you at home. that was until you started to let yourself go, slacking off during class to make yourself snacks, take showers, and nap on the couch.
that’s eventually why—much to your chagrin— toji convinced you to sign up for an in-person course to help you get your momentum back.
you were hesitant at first, blown completely out of the water by his outlandish request.
“just one day a week,” he pleaded, petting over the crown of your head in reassurance. “just one day to get a little fresh air, make some friends. don’t that sound fun?”
“i’m not gonna make any friends,” you explained bitterly, stomach already cramping with distaste at the thought of being forced to take the time out of your day to make your commute and spend 2 hours in a 30-person classroom every wednesday. people your age were cruel, you’d learned that very early on.
you knew it was unhealthy, squeezing your bubble this tight until you and toji were the only ones that could fit in it. was it really that bad to protect your peace though? you trusted toji, and he was better than anyone at showing you how loved you were—in his own way of course. 
you don’t say anything the day you press “enroll” on your school portal, feeling your boyfriend rub both hands up and down your sides in silent support. in fact, you’d secretly been the slightest bit excited at the change in scenery, ready to consider expanding that little bubble of yours.
keyword, consider. you were considering it right up until your first group assignment.
the stranger—your partner for the day, looks you up and down for only a moment, awkwardly turning to tap his friend behind him.
“switch with me,” he mutters, already grabbing his bag to leave your table with a sigh of relief.
the humiliation that settles deep within your bones is excruciating. you feel hot all over, suddenly conscious of every breath you take, how your chest shudders as you try not to cry. had he already decided he wanted nothing to do with you based on one look?
the girl he switches with isn’t much of an improvement, spending the majority of class on her phone while you work quietly on your laptop. you hear her laugh once or twice, too scared to look up and see if the giggling was at your expense.
you slink out of the room forty-five minutes early, unbeknownst to the people around you.
this was such a big mistake.
˚ ✧ ───
toji freezes the second you start to blubber into the swell of his chest, holding his thin work shirt in your quivering fists.
“what is it baby?” he whispers, bringing a large hand up to pet over the crown of your head. “you trip in the elevator again?”
“no,” you sniffle, embarrassedly wiping hot tears with your jacket sleeve. you didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t feel like enduring another wave of embarrassment lest you relive the events from today. 
the older man realizes the source of your tears, choosing his next words with caution.
“didn’t like class today?” he asks, fiddling with a strand of your hair absentmindedly.
“not going back,” you mumble, untangling yourself from his limbs to set your bag down on the couch. you sprawl out on the piece of furniture, exhausted beyond belief.
you tell him what had happened in the hours prior, pausing a few times to will away oncoming tears. toji kisses away each salty droplet, mouthing at your neck to coax an unexpected fit of laughter from you.
“you send in that project yet?” he asks, thumbing at the seam of your shirt.
“not yet, why?”
“bring it here.”
you oblige, curious.
the older man flips through the slides until he gets to the title page, highlighting your “partner’s” name and clicking the backspace with enthusiasm.
“there you go sugar,” he smiles, pulling you into his lap to let you get a better look. “you’re gonna go to that class and you’re gonna get the credit you deserve, okay?”
you truly hadn’t thought of it that way, intertwining your fingers as toji submits the project for you. was standing up for yourself really that simple?
tears start to well behind your lashes for the umpteenth time that day, reducing you to mush as the raven-haired man pulls you flush with his chest.
“thank you,” you mumble. he knows what you mean without you having to explain, wishing you wouldn’t thank him for the bare minimum. 
toji fiddles with each of your smaller fingers as you drift asleep against him, too overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions to stay awake any longer. 
he whispers sweet promises to you as your mind walks the right rope between consciousness and dreamland, telling you how he’ll hold your hand on every walk to the train station from now until the last day of the semester. 
and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this safe in your life.
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mayaree-darling · 7 months
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who's to say what's real or fake// Genshin SAGAU
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from aree: impostor au but you actually are the impostor? but ofcourse theres a twist. I think i'll call this FakeGrace!Reader. This was just going to be a headcannon post but ended up a whole fic plot
warnings: themes that all come with the sagau tag (yandere, lots of religious talk, cult, etc.)
word count: 2k~
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You end up on Teyvat and immediately the characters recognize you as their Creator; of course you're their Creator - you have the same face, name, and voice. You go through the ordeal of getting to know all the characters all over again and they in turn love you as the god they’ve been waiting for all this time.
You decide that well, this is the world and characters I spent blood, sweat, and tears building (even if it was behind a screen) so might as well help out and do what needs to be done. The people come to you for their problems and you find that they're not as difficult as when you were simply a player. Maybe a minor dispute here and there between the NPCs, but now the vision holders and the Archons ask for your thoughts on how to go about political matters concerning their nations. Even Snezhnaya has signed a peace treaty with the other nations as a show of good faith to the Creator (even if you know for a fact its a temporary one).
All has never been better.
Until another Creator appears in Teyvat, and this one bleeds gold the way their stories foretold. In a way you do not.
The vision holders are torn. Yes, you are an impostor, and they want to hate you for tricking them, but at the same time haven’t you only shown them love? Haven’t you been patient with them and understanding despite being thrown into a world you’re unfamiliar with?
But with careful coercion from the other god, they have to choose to follow their true Creator. You decide to take pity on them and step down from your position yourself, choosing to live with the Aranara who have gladly taken you under their wing (fake god you may be, you are still a friend of the forest, and the forest always remembers its friends).
The Archons tell their new Creator that you are no more. They pretend to not hear when the Creator says they should have brought your head with them, maybe just a bitter reaction for finding out that they have been serving an impostor all this time (the Archons are lying when they say they do not feel sickened at the idea of hurting you, and disgusted at this new God's words)
It soon becomes clear to the people of Teyvat that this new Creator is not you - none of the patience or kindness you had showed them. This new one thinks helping their people is below them, even laughs at some of their problems. They chuck their duties as a god to the vision holders and spend their days leisurely, wining and dining on the best food, expecting to be waited on hand and foot. And at first it was fine, the characters understood. Maybe their Creator was just enjoying the fruits of their labor for once (although in the back of their mind, they can't help but compare you - you who worked tirelessly to attend to everyone even when they’d almost beg you to take a break). The characters tell themselves that they just need to get used to this new god, their true Creator. It will all right itself in time. Even as the Creator acted more like a child by the day, calling for the punishment of characters for the simplest of things. It’s fine. It’s fine.
It didn't take long for their will to break.
The God of Wisdom is called as such for a reason. Nahida may be younger compared to the rest, but she is braver than most. She simply tried to impart a fraction of her wisdom, softly suggesting to the Creator to show mercy for their people who were gravely punished for things they did not do.
This Creator was not you. They did not have a drop of patience that you had, nor any love for their creations. Their god saw this as nothing but an act of treason. How dare a mere Archon tell them what to do? She dares to question who the Creator can and cannot punish?
The silence is deafening in the throne room as the Creator calls for the death of Lesser Lord Kusanali and the destruction of Sumeru. If it is mercy she asks for then it is the last thing she and her people will receive. The other Archons agree past gritted teeth, the sin of Khaenri’ah weighing heavy over their shoulders still.
Nahida had been banished to Sumeru before the order was given, so the Archons make their way to the Nation of Wisdom to tell her of her sentencing, hoping to beg her to ask the Creator for their forgiveness.
This can't be how it ends. Are they to spend their lives in fear of the god they so revered?
They enter a forest emitting divine energy in search of their friend, hearts heavy, but they found something else.
They found you. They found the Creator they loved once upon a time.
They seemed to have caught you mid-conversation with Nahida, and to their surprise (and resentment) the Tsaritsa; they can only assume that the god of Snezhnaya has informed you first of Nahida's fate. The Wanderer catches sight of them and stands in front of you in protection. You don't even bat an eye. You swallow hard and stand, Nahida's hand enveloped in yours, and the other gods would be lying if they say they did not feel jealousy strangling their lungs.
With a steady voice, you tell them that should they take one step against Nahida, you will meet them halfway. If they decide to send Sumeru to hell, they will have to go through you first. You will do everything you can to stop them, and if Sumeru falls then you fall with them.
They don't have to look at the others to make up their mind. There's a beat of silence but first it's Morax, and Beelzebul and Barbatos and then Focalor, and they are on their knees, heads bowed low.
It is only right to show respect to their god, after all. How could they be so blind?
Validation of their actions comes soon after as you let go of Nahida's hand and tell the Wanderer to stand aside. You do something that tyrant of a Creator that sits on a glass throne would never - you kneel before them and hold out your hand.
"Why are you all kneeling? Stand up. I am no longer your god. But I hope you will have me as a friend. Will that be alright?"
There are tears in their eyes as they let out stuttering laughter. Yes, this is their god. Their god with so much love and compassion and a heart that does nothing but bleed for them. A heart that does not ask for them to bleed.
You are their god. You are their true Creator. Golden blood be damned. All that gold has done nothing but blind them.
Eventually, you all end up on the forest floor. You accept the role of a friend as promised, and catch up with them. The Archons are almost in tears as you listen to their stories earnestly, squeezing their hands in sympathy as you listen to the pain they've been through under the rule of their so called Creator (they really should find a new title for you, the god that sits on your throne has sullied your rightful name). At one point they stop telling you stories of their mistreatment, unable to see your face be any sadder than it already was. They take to retelling your stories together, reminiscing better days - because is that not what they have done all this time? Think about the lovely you for every wrongdoing the other god had done in your name?
As you laugh and smile with them and their stories and their company, the idea burrows through their mind without your knowledge, taking root, and they refuse to let it go. Wouldn't it be so much better if it was always like this? Seeing your smiling face with them, a person that deserves to be called a god even more so than all of them combined. Knowing you were safe from harm, not having to defend yourself, especially from them under orders from a tyrant. Knowing you loved them the way they loved you.
It was all better with you.
When you weren't looking, the Archons gave each other knowing looks and curt nods in understanding.
You are their beloved Creator.
As a peaceful silence falls over you, they watch as you smile sadly, their hearts breaking to see such an expression on your face. In a soft voice, you apologize for not being able to do much to help them. When you lift your head, golden resolute eyes meet yours.
"You’ve done enough, Your Grace. Let us handle the rest."
You may have laughed at the old title, but the Archons are hell bent in returning it to you. Although it hurts them to say goodbye, they know it’s only for the moment. Soon, you will be with them. Back in your rightful throne, as you have always deserved.
Nahida is the youngest, and so they decide to spare her the carnage. The rest know she is no fool, they don't need to tell her what they had planned for her to know what happens next. She does not fully agree in the others' decision, yet she stays in Sumeru, promising to make sure you do not find out. Word travels fast to the other vision holders in the form of a breeze from Barbatos. Barely anyone had disagreed with the notion of removing the rejected god from the throne, and those who were hesitant at first changed their mind after hearing how you were ready to go down with Sumeru. Morax and the Tsaritsa lead the rebellion.
A god is only as powerful as the people who worship them. By the time the Archons arrived in the throne room, the Creator had no one to hide behind.
They made it a spectacle. They spin a tale for the people that the god they so worshiped was an impostor who had switched bodies with their rightful god, which explains the gold blood that should be yours. They say you were patiently waiting for them all to come back to you, to remove this impostor from your throne. You were ready to accept them all, they just needed to get rid of this filth that dared destroy your name. The Creator - no, the Impostor - is horrified when the people accept this story so easily, but they only have themselves to blame. Who cares what they have to say to defend themselves, although it’s not like they can anyway - how can they when their tongue was cut off?
Teyvat was silent as gold painted the streets of Liyue Harbor. Teyvat no longer cares for golden blood, not after all the blood and tears it had taken from its people. After all, a golden soul stands ready to take back their rightful place.
Your followers thought it had all been worth it - the pain, the hardships, the blood - to see you smile the first time you set foot outside Sumeru after what felt like years to them. And yet, despite the joyous occasion, you hesitantly turn to them and ask a question not even Irminsul would answer you.
"What happened to the Creator?"
You would be lying if you said the soft smiles each of them gave did not unnerve you as they all said the same thing, like a joke everyone knew all except you.
"We simply removed the Impostor from Your Grace's presence."
They are thankful that you are blinded by your love for them to see the gold shine on their hands. You do not ask about the shimmering streets either. Liyue was the city of gold after all, was it not?
For now, their biggest concern is your acceptance that they are your equal, but that can easily be fixed. You are their friend now, but someday you’ll be their god again. Slowly but surely. They will sit you back in your throne. They will kneel before you again. They will give you the reverence you so deserved.
It will all be yours.
You're their wonderful Creator, after all. Maybe not to you right now. But you always have been for them.
They’ll start from calling you Your Grace. You’d be too kind to tell them off over and over.
You always had been good at adapting.
You had gotten used to it then, you’ll get used to it again.
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✨ Masterlist ✨ 
Taglist: 💛@anime-allover  💛@faeriessky  💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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zekepng · 29 days
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𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘
One evening, a familiar neighbour approaches you and requests a favour, even though it's late. You willingly assist him and he doesn't let you leave without generously rewarding you for your helpfulness. 
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Milkman (Francis Mosses) one shot, explicit content - fanart: Yunonoai on twitter
Ao3 Link
Discord Server
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As you settle into your seat, you feel your eyelids growing heavy from the gentle sway. It's a quiet Sunday, with only a few souls venturing through. It seems like the majority of the neighbours have chosen to stay home and take a break today.
You found some satisfaction in your job, despite your preference for being at home on a Sunday. 
At least you're earning a paycheck for your efforts to do nothing.
Just like magic, the elevator doors glide open, as if anticipating your thoughts. You awaken, your gaze drawn to the window shielding your office. Anastacha glances in your direction, offering a brief wave and a smile before gracefully heading towards the exit.
You reciprocate the gesture, ensuring there are no witnesses nearby.
Before slipping on your headphones, you steal a quick glance at the clock on the wall, hoping to see the hand inching closer to ten, but it's barely making its way to eight.
Once again, as if following a precise rhythm, your tired eyes gently close.
Until the sound of forceful pounding against the glass abruptly jolts them awake. You find yourself on the edge of your seat, suddenly snapping upright in a state of sheer panic.
You abruptly lose track of your surroundings, momentarily transported from your peaceful bed to an unfamiliar place.
You find yourself sinking into the uncomfortable chair, feeling the strain in your back as you gaze out through the transparent barrier that separates you from the outside world. You can't help but feel a rush of surprise as you lay your eyes on the towering figure before you, his gentle smile adding a touch of warmth to the scene.
"Long shift?" He asks, his head slightly tilted. His gentle, deep brown eyes fixate on you, capturing a flicker of delight in your astonished expression.
"Francis," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. You remove the headphones from your ears and sit up straight in your chair.
As per his usual attire, he wears a pristine white shirt and sleek black trousers, complemented by a stylish black bow tie. With his trademark white hat perched atop his tousled brown silk hair, it's clear that he's having a particularly dishevelled day.
“Did I startle you?” He asks, his voice carrying a sense of innocence as he gently removes his hat from his head.
You tear your eyes away from his, only to steal a quick glance at the clock, hoping to catch any sign of time passing. You find it shocking that what seemed like an eternity actually lasted a mere half an hour. "Well, I never expected anyone to approach me," you murmur softly.
"My apologies, (y/n)," he says with a playful laugh, “but I need you to get into my apartment.” 
As you regain consciousness, a wave of disorientation washes over you. You gaze at him with a bewildered expression, desperately trying to comprehend his words. Suddenly, he utters, "My keys, (y/n). You have my keys, just like you do every day.” 
Your cheeks flush as a wave of embarrassment washes over you, all while he stares at you with a gentle smile, almost bordering on a smirk. “Sorry, it’s been a long night.” You casually reach over and take his house keys from the hook.
“I guess I’m not the only forgetful one here,” he chuckles, clutching the keys to his truck in his hand.
During your week of working here, you formed a pact with Francis. Because of his tendency to forget, he would often misplace one of his keys and ask for a spare. In order to avoid this recurring issue, you both decided to make an arrangement where his keys would be kept downstairs at your desk.
As he inches towards the glass, a sense of confusion washes over you until he finally says, “I have another favour I need you to do for me.” 
“Which is?” You ask, carefully examining his features. You trace the contours of his nose, gradually becoming absorbed in your own thoughts—lewd thoughts.
You find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him as he talks.
The gaze in his almond-shaped eyes carries a captivating yet mysterious allure.
Every time he passes by, his demeanour seems gloomy, but a flicker of joy illuminates his eyes when he catches a glimpse of you. However, that happiness quickly dissipates as his smile vanishes.
You can't help but imagine the intense gaze and the heated encounter as he bends you over your desk and fucks you senseless. 
Your mind is swirling with questions like, What noise does he make? Is he loud? Would he fuck you good? Is it big?
It has to be big.
There is a mysterious presence about him that eludes comprehension, yet it holds you captivated.
“So, can I?” He asks, jolting you back to reality as you realise you've completely zoned out and missed his entire conversation.
You find yourself shaking your head in disbelief, struggling to process his words. However, your mind becomes overwhelmed with a flurry of unanswered questions. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that for me?”
“I asked if I could place a few of my milk trays in your office as I unload them from my truck? It’s far colder there than it is out here,” he asks, causing your eyes to cautiously shift between his face and the office floor, contemplating if they would even fit.
“It’s just so that I don’t have to keep going to my truck all the way to the third floor.” He includes this detail in an effort to convince.
You're still apprehensive because it's against the rules to allow residents into the office, even for a brief period of time. “I don’t think I can let you in here, Francis.” You admit, a hint of guilt creeps into your expression.
"Come on," he pleads, his head tilting and his hands clasping together in a prayer-like gesture. “Please, it will only be for a few minutes, (y/n).” 
His voice trembles and his eyes become gentle, almost melting you with their intensity.
"It's late, and this secret can stay between us," he pleads, his voice filled with desperation. “I promise I’ll reward you for being good to me, (y/n).” It’s almost as if the use of him saying your name was a kryptonite to you. 
Every atom of your being trembles as your name escapes out of his mouths, sending shivers down your spine.
“Fine,” you reluctantly concede, succumbing to his pleading stare. “Just be quick.”
In a matter of moments, he effortlessly reveals a sly grin, his expression as stoic as ever, as he casually lowers his hands by his side. "You’re the best,” he exclaims while placing his hat back on his head and stepping back outside. 
You cautiously lean back in your chair, then rise to your feet and unlock the office door. Before proceeding, you cautiously survey your surroundings, ensuring that no prying eyes are present. 
The last thing you desire is to attract unwanted attention and risk being reported for violating any regulations.
As you gently nudge the door, you lean against it, ensuring it stays ajar, eagerly anticipating Francis swift return from his truck. As time passes, you observe him effortlessly using his back to swing open the door of the building. He then pivots and starts making his way towards you.
You watch as he carefully balances two crates, one on top of the other, brimming with delicate glass milk bottles. You watch as he effortlessly carries the heavy crates into the office, his white shirt rolled up to reveal his strong forearms adorned with prominent veins.
You can't help but have your attention fixated on him, like an annoying, persistent fly.
"I only have two more to carry," he says, walking past you once more before vanishing outside.
You eagerly anticipate his return, and when he finally enters the building, he is drenched from the rain. You can't help but notice how his shirt is nearly transparent, allowing a glimpse of his skin underneath. 
As raindrops trickle down his face, they leave a trail of glistening droplets in their wake.
As he enters the office with the two crates, you quietly trail behind him, allowing the door to gently shut behind you. You watch as he carefully places the crates on top of each other, his gaze sweeping across the office before he straightens up.
You watch as Francis takes off his hat, his face filled with a sense of relief. I can help you carry these up to your apartment, however, in order to do so, I'll need the key to the truck," you mention, extending your hand towards him.
You find yourself captivated by his stare as he gently places the keys in your open hand. As you casually swap the truck key for the flat key, his gaze remains fixated on you.
As you turn around to face him, you find yourself taken aback as you come face to face with him, your eyes widening in surprise at his close proximity.
His towering presence looms above you, his hand poised near the switch that will lower the shutter. You find yourself struggling to control your breathing, as if your breath has been captured by an unseen force.
“Did you think I forgot about your reward?” His voice says, sending shivers down your spine while also captivating your senses.
Without uttering a single sound, he proceeds to push the switch, causing the shutters to gradually descend, leaving only you and him in the office.
"I didn't think you were serious," you mutter, struggling to articulate your thoughts.
As he takes the keys from your grasp, his touch is tender as he delicately cradles your chin with his other hand. You find yourself instinctively retreating as he moves closer, your back pressing against the edge of your desk. “Good girls deserve to be rewarded, (y/n).”
“And you’re a good girl for helping me, aren’t you, (y/n)?” He asks, gently caressing your lips with his thumb.
You fix your eyes on him, a gaze brimming with intense desire. You find yourself completely immobilised and unable to utter a single word, ensnared in a captivating spell cast by his presence.
You want him to tear your clothes off and fuck you savagely as if you were animals.
In the blink of an eye, his tender caress transforms into something forceful. You watch as his hand swiftly clamps around your jaw, his eyes filled with intensity. "Say it," he demands, his voice filled with authority. 
In any other circumstance, fear might consume you, but instead, a surge of pleasure courses through your body, intensifying the throbbing sensation between your legs.
You swallow nervously before quietly admitting, "I am."
"Good," he murmurs, loosening his hold on your jaw as he draws you closer to him. Out of nowhere, he surprises you by gently placing his lips against yours, leaving you completely stunned.
You feel the warmth of his body as your hands instinctively glide up his neck, drawn to his touch. You can't help but be drawn to his kisses, even though they're sloppy. 
They are filled with a raw and intense passion that ignites something deep within you. You feel a gentle bite on your bottom lip, and a soft moan emerges from your throat as he takes the chance to slide his tongue through.
You can sense the heat coursing through your veins, which is matched only by the rapid thumping of your heart.
As he shifts back, a brief strand of saliva lingers between you both, only to be swiftly followed by another passionate kiss. You find yourself captivated by the gentle gaze in his eyes as he slowly moves his lips from yours to the tender skin of your neck.
You feel a soft nibble on your neck, followed by a gentle whisper in your ear, “Sit on the desk.”
You find yourself completely mesmerised by his every word, unable to resist his intriguing presence. You obediently follow the directions, concealing any signs of bewilderment. You settle yourself on the desk, feeling a slight breeze as your skirt lifts slightly.
You reach out to mend it, but he abruptly halts your movement. His hands gently lift yours away from your thighs, finding their place on either side of you.
You watch as he gracefully lowers himself to the ground, effortlessly sinking to his knees right in front of you.
You find yourself at a loss for words as you experience the sensation of his hands enveloping your thighs, gently guiding you closer to the edge of the desk.
You feel the gentle touch of his lips against the sensitive skin of your thighs, eliciting a soft gasp as you tilt your head back in response.
You feel a gentle tug on your thong, as it gracefully slides down your leg and is set aside.
You adjust your skirt higher, feeling a sudden warmth on your cheeks as you become aware of your vulnerability.
You're captivated by the intensity of his eyes, lost in the moment as he delicately positions your legs over his shoulder, drawing you nearer without disrupting the desk.
You observe him with anticipation and a heightened sense of desire as he approaches your cunt. You find yourself biting your lip, a soft whimper escaping your lips as his warm tongue playfully dances around your clit, sending waves of teasing pleasure through your body.
The tip of his tongue delicately explores and teases your pussy.
Unexpectedly, he inserts two fingers into your wet hole, eliciting a chorus of pleasure-filled sounds from your lips.
You slowly glide your hand through his soft, lustrous brown hair, then firmly grasp it as he skillfully moves his fingers in and out of you, simultaneously using his tongue to pleasure your most sensitive spot.
You are consumed by an overwhelming surge of tension, which sends waves of pleasure cascading through your entire being. "Oh fuck," you gasp, your voice filled with desire, as you tightly grip his hair.
You can feel the intensity building as his tongue quickens its pace, sending waves of tension through your body. Just as the knot of anticipation reaches its peak, he eases off, gradually slowing down.
You feel a rush of pleasure as his fingers move in and out of you, perfectly synchronised with the skillful movements of his tongue. It's as if he knows exactly how to bring you to the brink of ecstasy.
As if to intensify the sensation, he adds a third finger into your dripping pussy, causing you to cry out, "Francis, please!" His tongue quickens its pace once more, heightening the pleasure even more.
You sense your proximity drawing near. You can feel the heat building up inside you, your breath quickening and your toes curling in pleasure as he expertly stimulates you with his slender fingers. "I'm getting close," You struggle to utter the three simple words, your voice trembling with emotion.
Out of nowhere, he abruptly withdraws his mouth from you, yet his fingers remain inside, delving deeper and deeper.
You're hooked by the intense stare he directs towards you, his eyes filled with a mysterious allure. A blend of your fluids and his spit moistens his mouth as he slowly smirks at you.
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Author's note: part 2 is pending... ಇ
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ethrlst · 2 months
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reciprocated sentiment
⌞ sypnosis ⌝ - being acquainted with one out of the two current scuderia ferrari drivers have it’s pros and cons. the adrenaline of being able to support your childhood friend through each and every one of his races in person is one of the perks, and his teammate being the biggest only con.
⌞ wordcount & tags ⌝ - 1.2k+ / enemies to lovers! sexual tension! slight!angst fluff! google translated spanish!
⌞ a/n ⌝ - as promised, i would upload this today, perhaps.. just a few hours later than i said. this might be one of my favorite tropes to write so far (tension). let me know what you think and who should i write for next? happy reading! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
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the sweaty bodies of guests dancing to whatever song the speakers were playing from the norris’ manor distracted you from your thoughts. it was nearing midnight, a few more clicks of the watch’s hand and it’ll be the next day. both charles and lando had done a great job at occupying your attention for a while, not until oscar came and asked lando to dj with him, leaving you and charles alone with the rest of the group. the red cup filled with your drink has slowly started tasting less and less like liquor and more watery due to the ice melting.
‘do you want another drink?’ charles had offered, noticing your sour face after taking a sip. you smiled and shook your head, you’d rather sip some watered down liquor, than seek the risk of possibly bumping into his God-forsaken annoying cunt of a teammate, as you’d describe carlos. charles laughs at that, aware of your little rivalry with his teammate and finding it amusing.
‘you seem distracted, love. anything bothering you?’ he wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your shoulders, genuinely worried for his childhood friend. ‘i’m quite alright, cha.’ to which you respond, feeling a bit guilty lying to your friend. he hums, rubbing your hands on his thighs as a sign of reassurance. you both stay in that exact position for a while, cuddling each other whilst laughing at how silly it was when max had an argument with daniel regarding who would win in an arm wrestling battle between the two just a few hours prior.
your peace was interrupted when one of charles’ friend invites him to take a few rounds of shots with the rest of the group, you took this opportunity to make your way back to your room and call it a night. nearing your destination, a hand pulls at your arm and drags you to a secluded hallway. it was quiet and the lights were dim, if it wasn’t from the feeling of his coarse yet soft hands, as well as the strong smell of whiskey paired with his jasmine infused perfume, you wouldn’t recognize him. ‘where do you think you’re going, miss desperate?’, he whispers to your face, chuckling when he notices your irritated expression.
‘get off of me! desperate? god, you’re delusional, carlos.’ you laugh at his face, spitting out ‘you still bitter about cha’s p1 today?’, he slams you against the wall. slowly, his face lower to yours and you feel his eyes’ intense stare. chest heaving faster, you physically feel him bury his face to your neck just before whispering, ‘you are as breathtaking as charles described you to be, pero mi dios, you get on my nerves.’ you’re quick to return his stare with a glare. ‘you’re just as infuriating as me, sainz. you’re no different. if anything, desperation suits your name better than it does mine.’ lifting your hand to his bearded jaw and gently caressing his cheek, you give the spaniard a faux sympathetic smile. ‘you’re pathetic, and you’ll never amount to charles no matter how hard you work, carlos. he’ll always be better than you and you know this.’ your smile growing as the pressure of his hand against your throat gradually grows, you’re getting into his head. he grips your hips harder when he feels the tears finally brimming his eyes, he’s letting you get into his head.
‘joder, no me digas eso por favor, cariño. devuélvelo, por favor.’ fuck, don’t say that to me please, sweetheart. take it back, please. his overwhelming emotions way past the ability to being suppressed; he begs as his tears finally fall from his eyes and strain his skin, he then lays his forehead against yours—- pleading with his big, sad, teary, but oh so beautiful brown eyes. you’ve always loved everything about the spaniard’s eyes: how big it gets when he gets the opportunity to talk about his job, how it resembles a certain earth colored crystal, how they remind you of puppies, how beautiful it shines when met with light and how you catch them staring right back at yours with an emotion you’d never really been able to put a finger on.
‘No quisiste decir eso, ¿verdad, mi amor? look me in the eyes and say it again.’ he pleads, his walls completely down, waiting to be stepped on. he waits—- he waits and waits for your reassurance all while he cries to your hands cupping his face. from an outsider’s perspective, it might seem as the two of you had a lovers quarrel, but you’re no lovers, barely even acquainted. the fact leaves a heavy feeling to your chest whenever you think about how other people— how other women get to touch him, get to fawn over his figure and charming looks, praise how good of a driver he was knowing their true intention with the man. for the longest time you called this strange feeling hate, often bringing up your dislike to the spaniard that it was known by almost everyone in the grid. so why does seeing him in tears and begging for your comfort, brings an immense feeling of joy instead of pleasure?
an epiphany strikes your senses, it dawns upon you that you wanted the crying man all to yourself, and you’d been denying it for years. so the moment you hear him beg once again, you kiss him. your lips moving in sync with his, gripping the hair just before his neck and then his jaw, you kiss him deep. carlos kisses you back just as hungrily, he pulls your hips nearer and tries to deepen the connection just before you pull away. dragging him to your room, you sit the spaniard down at the couch before straddling him. with his wide eyes and plump lips slightly agape, he waits for you to make a move, fearing he would mess it all up and lose you if he makes even the slightest mistake. combing his messy hair, taking your time to admire the man, you utter him a compliment, so handsome. he gives you a shy smile, feeling timid under your gaze. you bring your lips back to his, gentler this time, more sensual— scared you’d break the man if you act upon your greed and possessiveness.
relishing the feeling of his tongue against yours, you pull away to breathe, carlos chasing to have your mouth back to his, but you deny him. ‘cariño, please. let me kiss you’, carlos pleads, caressing your waist and deliberately grinding up to you, he whimpers, feeling needier by the second. kissing his temple, you go down to kiss each of his cheek and his eyes, his nose, his jaw and gradually making your way down to his neck and collarbones. sucking marks to his nape, carlos grips your hip and cradles your head to his hand as he moans to your ear. ‘mierda, quiero volver a sentirte, por favor mi amor.’ shit, i want to feel you again, please my love. grinding your hips back, you pull his hair and grip his throat before mouthing mine to his lips and finally giving him what he’s been begging you for.
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the sunlight peeking behind the blinds, you feel the breeze of air from the window gap, waking your spirit. you open your eyes only to realize that your head was on top of carlos’ chest, you look up to him, taking in his sleeping form. tracing shapes on his skin, enjoying the warmth and stillness of the moment, you feel a kiss to your temple followed by his arms bringing you impossibly closer to him. ‘goodmorning, mi amor.’ ‘goodmorning, carlito’, laughing when he starts attacking you with kisses. ‘no! no! no, teasing this early, please bonita.’ you humm in defeat, cuddling into each others warmth, no longer denying the overdue of reciprocated yearning between the both of you.
fin.
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shalotttower · 5 months
Text
Fractalize (part 1)
Title: Fractalize
Fandom: Hunter x Hunter
Summary: Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness.
Word count: 3700+
Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female)
Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating a lot, morbid pondering, suicidal thoughts, explicit/triggering language/words, Reader's thoughts on possible sexual assault in future. Part 2
Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.
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Sometimes you stand in front of a mirror and try to picture yourself in another timeline. One where your life didn’t take this specific turn. You try to imagine a different setting, a different apartment - perhaps the one you had before Chrollo started moving you around like a luggage bag. Maybe living in a cottage by the sea or an old farmhouse. Someplace rural, peaceful. With a garden and fresh air, far away from the city noises.
It's difficult at first, your reflection keeps slipping through your mental fingers every time you think the image is set in place. But with practice it becomes easier, sort of, so you can now see yourself clearly as you brush your hair - not here.
A blue dress on, made for nights at parties with friends. Laughing until your stomach hurts and eyes become sore. Making silly faces over alcoholic beverages. Or you can wear your favourite jeans with a high waist and head out to the pub, the same one with crooked stools and a broken sign. Drink cheep bear, eat greasy peanuts from a little bowl, listen to some small band play unknown and unheard songs.
Leave intoxicated, and everything is too fast and vibrant and wonderful until you're back home.
It's your favourite pastime now: imagine, remake and slip.
Imagine. Remake. Slip.
You don't quite remember the last time you laughed, a month ago maybe. Maybe more. Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness, dull, cold, you would compare it to a winter plastered all over your insides, but it's almost colder than that. It freezes everything and turns it into icicles hanging off the roof.
Remake, slip.
You have new vocabulary now.
"Mm" - is for when he asks you if you like a dress or a top and it doesn't matter how you actually feel about it, because it's going to end up being worn anyway.
"Okay" - is for when Chrollo sets another fancy meal for you on a dinner table and "Eat, don't be shy".
"I'm not hungry" - doesn't work with him, even if it's the truth. You always eat what's put in front of you, that's the rule, because he's not above shoving the spoon into your mouth, so you spare yourself the tears and sobs that will probably come with that. It's so bizarre: how much effort he puts into keeping you alive when you're anything but.
"Whatever you want" - is for when he asks you something that requires a choice, between two or three options usually. He's not one for an extensive list.
"If you say so" - for everything else.
You used to delude yourself with the idea that if you managed to appear pleasant enough, pleasant-talking, pleasant-listening, smiling a bit here and there, it would gain you some privileges and perhaps a bit more freedom. It did. But never where it really mattered. Those little things were absolutely inconsequential in the grand scheme. Yes, you can have that sweater, dear. No, you can't have your own bed. Yes, you can come shopping with me, if you give me a kiss. No, you can't take walks without me holding your hand.
Yes this and no that.
Those moments were fragile and so very takeable that they didn't give you any sense of accomplishment, just a short respite and bitter aftertaste that made you feel pathetic.
Wasn't worth it.
***
"Do you like animals, dear?" Chrollo asks out of the blue one day. He's reading something on his tablet while you're curled up on the couch, watching TV.
It's a new series that's been on the major channels for a few weeks, a mystery drama about a girl who moves into a house she inherited from her grandfather. The picture provides a distraction enough to have you forgetting where you are for a brief period three times a week.
You pull the blanket higher. "I do."
He knows it.
The girl on the screen finds a mysterious box hidden in the attic. Perhaps there's something valuable inside. Or information about her grandpa; your fingers tug on a loose blanket thread without much thought.
"What kind?"
Or maybe it's just a time capsule with photos and postcards and random objects collected over the years.
Or-
You had a cat before he took you. A foster grey ragdoll with blue eyes who liked to rest on your belly and bump her head against your chin. You called her Miss Whiskerton and kissed her little nose, because she did act like a proper lady - poised, dignified and entirely too proud to eat food mixed with medicine. The worst enemy Miss Whiskerton has ever had in her cat life was the corner of your couch. When you weren't paying attention, she would dig her claws into the fabric and leave thin lines. You hope that someone took her in.
She probably thought you abandoned her.
"Cats."
Chrollo hums in acknowledgment and continues scrolling through whatever he's looking at - maybe news or auction listings, you don't know nor do you really care. You shift under the blanket, pulling your legs closer to your body.
"We can get one, if you'd like."
"No."
Your answer is immediate and short, without thinking. You know it, you know him by now - there's nothing Chrollo does out of spontaneous generosity, it always benefits him in some way. And you've studied him enough to figure that any pet would only be a tool to keep you tamed and compliant. Puppies make life better. Happier, lighter, with goofy smiling faces and wiggling tails. Cats make life better with soft purrs and paws stomping on your chest. They're too easy to love.
"Why not?" There's a sound of tablet set on a wooden surface.
The girl on the screen is trying to solve a combination lock on the box when the TV switches off and your little world of carefully shot scenes and scripted lines vanishes. You don't need to turn around to guess where's the remote.
She almost had it, but now you won't know what's inside until Thursday evening.
Your reflection stares back from the dead screen, blank-faced and with a blanket pulled up your nose. It tickles a bit. "Because I don't want one."
A chair creaks. "Why?"
You close your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. This is tiring. Always probing, digging, pushing. Trying to find chinks in your armor, but all you're wearing is just a flimsy dress with thin straps and a blanket you wish could swallow you whole.
"Don't need it."
"You said you like animals," Chrollo sits next to you and places a hand on top of your covered legs. He squeezes your thigh and you stare ahead, wishing he would just leave you alone tonight.
"I do." Your fingers twitch under the blanket, nails scratching at the fabric.
Strange. Sometimes it feels like he understands perfectly that you want to be alone, have time for yourself and don't want his constant physical presence. At the same time Chrollo brushes this all aside like old tin foil wrappers - insignificant. He pulls the blanket down and you cling on it stubbornly for a few seconds before letting go. His thumb and index finger grasp your chin and turn your face towards him so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.
There's such still intensity within him that made your skin crawl whenever he looked at you with this much focus and attention. You don't know what he saw there most times, it used to be fear or anger or sadness - right now it's none of these things. Everything inside you feels jammed and stiff.
"We should get a fish then," he continues, brushing hair out of your forehead. "You can watch it swim around, wouldn't that be nice?"
Chrollo talks to you like this sometimes, as if you're a child who needs to be convinced to eat veggies or take medicine. Like you're simple-minded and he's reasoning with you out of good will. It's sickening. You hate it.
"I don't want a pet," you repeat the words slowly. "If you're going to give me something only to take it away, then I don't want it."
His finger leisurely stroking your chin pauses at the edge of your bottom lip. Something flickers behind his eyes, it's barely noticeable but you've become good at catching those minuscule shifts. He smiles, yet there's nothing joyful about it. "Take it away? Why would I do that, dear?"
"Because that's what you do. Because that's how you are." You don't try to pull free from his hold, he'll only tighten it; not enough to hurt, no, he is too suave and polished for that - or wants to appear so - but enough for you to feel trapped under his palm.
There's something off about you, you can tell, but are not quite able to discern what or where. It sits in the very structure of your bones and eats away with ravenous appetite. An imbalance in the gut. Fever-warm body, cold fingers. Thoughts like potholes.
"And how am I exactly, according to you?" His voice is light, playful, a stark contrast to his eyes that study you with unnerving precision. Chrollo rarely loses his temper and never gets violent with you (yet, you correct yourself), but he has other ways of expressing displeasure, and they're petty, ugly and cold.
"Cruel," the word rolls off your tongue so effortlessly that almost frightens you; it's easy to tell the truth when you're this numb.
He looks taken aback for a split second, and the smile freezes. His hand stops midway to your hair. Then everything's gone.
Chrollo releases you and leans back into the cushions, almost thoughtful, like your observation is something that requires careful consideration.
"I suppose, it depends," he says finally.
"On what?"
"On how you choose to see things. Your perspective is bound to be biased, dear."
You don't respond.
To continue this conversation would be pointless and circular, like running on a treadmill, like everything else between you and Chrollo, really. He simply has too many answers to any possible argument, and no matter how convincing you manage to make them sound, he'll poke holes into each one. You don't want a fish. Or a cat. Or a dog, a bird, anything that moves and breathes and looks at you with big, trusting eyes.
Chrollo is cruel. Not in a way that's straightforward and brutal. Not in a way of someone who'd tear your limbs apart or rip off a fly's wing to see it wiggle. You have no doubt that he is capable of such a thing, but that would be uncouth. Cruelty in his case is a quieter, more delicate affair - in a way of a sculptor who'd chisel off everything unnecessary and unneeded, no matter the size or significance, to produce something entirely his.
His hands are soft, his voice is always composed, and he wears well tailored clothes. But the rest is sharp, clean and merciless.
"I think I'll go to bed," you say and push away the blanket.
"It's early."
"Mm."
He takes your hand just as you're about to slide off the sofa. Chrollo's always faster than you, always ahead and always observing, and that little realization while bitter is not so shocking anymore, more like another fact that you file away from your interactions.
You watch him. Wait.
"You're distraught," he says. "But you should know by now that there's no need for that."
Your hand remains in his grasp, limp and heavy.
"I don't enjoy seeing you upset, dear. Even more if you make false conclusions."
You turn to see the expression on his face - and there isn't one, at least not the type that most people would make. There are no frowning eyebrows, no clenched jaw that would indicate irritation, nothing like that.
"You're giving me too little credit," his tone is quiet as he runs his fingers up and down your wrist. "My intentions are not to hurt you. They are much, much sweeter than that."
"But you would," you say quietly and lean closer, ignoring the obvious implication behind his words. There is a hollow sensation inside of your head that prompts you to speak, everything is hollow - body and mind, heart, the space in your guts, your throat. "You would hurt me, if that's what you thought was necessary. Rip me apart and leave me deformed beyond repair, to fit into whatever framework you've laid, you would do that."
You're not being deliberately cryptic or fatalistic. These are your observations, based on a period of months spent together. They take root in no one being there for you anymore, in your phone which is long gone, in your closed accounts, your missing laptop and old clothes, the entire previous life in the city that has been discarded for something new. Chrollo was very methodical, you can give him that.
He doesn't listen, he studies your responses. Every single word. He has a talent for that, for absorbing everything about you while hardly ever letting you glimpse his interior - all that you know about him are tiny slivers which you picked up through living together, observation, accidental bits.
You expect him to contradict your statement, to offer a logical explanation why you're wrong, but instead Chrollo brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles. The touch is light and dry.
"You're not entirely wrong, dear," he says and moves closer until you can smell his aftershave, something fresh.
His proximity is uncomfortable, it always is and probably always will be.
"I'm right then," you say.
"No," he keeps your hand in his grasp. "But you're not entirely wrong either. That's what makes you interesting."
There's a strange kind of fondness in his voice, it's subtle, yet undeniably present. You've never felt less interesting in your life, in a dress with thin straps that's too fancy for a lazy day at home and your bare feet and tangled hair.
"If you say so," you respond and slowly tug your hand free. "I really want to sleep now."
You get up, and he lets you go without another proposition. The blanket falls off onto the sofa, and before you slip into the semi-darkness of the bedroom, he says,
"Not beyond repair. But I like to believe we can both agree it doesn't have to come to that."
***
The drive feels endless. Houses and streets blur in a mix of colors, shapes and people, which soon change to an empty highway with greenery on both sides. Trees and fields, tall grass swaying gently in the wind and rare cars passing you by. Chrollo's hand is resting on your leg; he hasn't moved it since the car started, but you choose to ignore it in favor of your regular pastime, the one that's made of imaginary worlds and places where the timeline stretches differently.
Mostly it's just you and the layout of your fake apartment.
Imagine, remake, slip. Repeat the steps until it becomes muscle memory.
You have this daydream on loop now. Wooden floor and wide windows, lots of sunlight. Books everywhere, comfy clothes and not a single skirt in your closet. A cup of tea with honey in the morning, and Miss Whiskerton curled into a soft grey ball on your lap. You feed her salmon in a shiny bowl, occasionally she catches a lizard outside and drops the tail on your doorstep as an offering, looking immensely proud of herself.
A smile slips on your face without meaning to, a wobbly thing; you promptly wipe it off.
It would be a crime to show such blatant joy. This fantasy has become so sweetly personal that every fiber of your being resists even acknowledging it in front of Chrollo. He can sense a stray happy thought from miles away, like a hound, and will never stop prodding until everything is raw and tender. You've learned to say less in his presence, especially if it's something that has you invested. Chrollo knows how to pick things apart.
You lean your cheek against the glass. This world would never happen, never in a million years, but dreaming doesn't hurt anyone, does it?
Your grandma, wearing an apron, sets a tray filled with fresh pastries on a table, because she's amazing like that. She fusses and worries and pretends to scold you. For not calling enough, for not coming sooner, for not eating well. For leaving.
"Dear."
You almost jump.
Chrollo's voice brings you back where his hand is heavy on your leg, you're wearing a dress above the knee and aren't allowed to use scissors or knives.
"Mm?"
"That frown of yours," he says, turning into a small road. The surroundings change again, it's quiet here, not a soul in sight. "It's been there for fifteen minutes now."
You sit up straight and move your hair out of your eyes. Chrollo's a perceptive one, so this is a reminder not to sink too deep around him, unless you absolutely need it.
"Was just thinking."
"You do it a lot lately," he states and looks at you from the corner of his eye.
True, but you have no intention to confirm it. First, he won't like the reason behind these thoughts. Second, he will dig and try to worm his way in. No. Most of what you've been fixating on, staring out of the window like a mindless drone, or reading and rereading pages that you barely grasped, would fail to create anything more complex in his heart than desire to pull it out.
For whatever twisted reason, Chrollo cares for your well-being, or, more precisely, your acceptance of his advances. Yet his way of caring isn't nurturing in any sense.
Chrollo's interest (you don't dare call it love) is crushing, too heavy to carry - he'll find what troubles you and "fix it" in way that will twist it into something pathetic. Something that shows how you have nothing else to cling on but him. You're not stupid enough to keep falling into this trap. Being a slow learner doesn't mean you don't learn at all.
He's done it before. He'll do it again. So you reply, "I haven't noticed."
His thumb rubs circles on your thigh; you press your shoulder against the car door as if hoping it might open. It doesn't, much to your disappointment.
"What was on your mind then?"
Something you shouldn't tell him, that's for sure. Chrollo's watching you, even if his eyes are trained on the road.
"Random stuff," you say. Half-truths, half-truths are safe. "A weird dream I had this morning."
If you bothered to look, you'd see a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of amusement at the corners of his mouth. You don't.
"Tell me."
You hate when he does that.
"It was boring."
"I'm interested in anything that made you so pensive."
Chrollo likes conversations with you, even if they're short. You can tell that he does, or he wouldn't be trying to make you talk and getting subtly frustrated when you choose not to. It never shows outright, Chrollo is very gifted at keeping his calm exterior, but there are certain giveaways like the slight tightening of his hand, an emphasized "dear", a pause here, or a quiet exhale through the nose. You could make a list out of these.
If you ignore him, he gets quiet and handsy or petty enough to throw away the only dress you feel comfortable in. Stop bringing you new books. Take you to places you hate.
It's always the small things that kill you, not the big, dramatic ones. The devils in the details.
"There was a lizard," you begin, and he hums in response, prompting you to continue. "It was cute with brown spots and a tiny tail."
Lies weave themselves easily, intertwine with truths and turn it into something that resembles a story.
"It was sitting on my windowsill and I wanted to pet it. A cat came out of nowhere and almost ate it, then I woke up. It's a silly dream."
There. Nothing to dissect here, not that you can see. Just a nonsensical dream, filled with random happenings and strange emotions.
"And that's why you frowned for fifteen minutes?"
"Yes, I got sad."
Yes, you think. Yes, Chrollo. I frowned, because I care for the damn lizard that doesn't exist, an animal from a dream. A stupid musing, nothing special, a very mundane and simple thing, because people do have silly dreams sometimes, and it's not a crime. It's not a crime and has nothing to do with that fact that I have a whole dream world where I'm not with you in my head.
"How peculiar. You never struck me as the type to get upset over something like this."
"You never asked," you respond flatly and Chrollo's hand on your thigh moves an inch.
It brushes up, closer to where you really, really don't want it to be, so you squeeze his fingers hard and redirect them to the curve of your knee.
"True," he says after a pause, not sounding too bothered. A month ago you would've brushed his hand off completely, probably that's why. Chrollo is convinced that with enough patience and effort he'll be able to close that final barrier between you both. Time, coaxing, a dose or two of endearment, some carefully calculated touch - but you'd rather stick a knife through your ribs than have sex with him. Or his patience will simply run out and he'll rape you. You're not delusional. Not a fool. "Well, that can be fixed. I'll make sure to ask about your dreams more often, dear."
You lean back into the seat and stare ahead, this time without anything pleasant on your mind. Of course he will. Of course he'll take this as a sign to dig deeper and invade that small bit of solace, Chrollo can't simply co-exist. He wants it all.
"Mm," you say.
Your new vocabulary is such a handy thing.
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dilfl0v3rss · 11 months
Text
at last
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summary: jailbird!ony is home at last
cw: public sex, driving with an expired license lmfao
word count: 2.9k
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today was the day. you don’t think you’ve ever popped out of bed so fast in your life. quickly getting yourself ready so you’re not even a half a second late to your important meeting.
“i’m be out on around the twenty fifth mama”
it’s been three weeks since you heard that, and for those three weeks you’ve been planning nonstop. the first thing you did was calmly let all of your friends know that the first day he gets out is for you. feeling that you deserve it for keeping it together for so long. the second thing you made sure to do was get ony a whole new wardrobe, already knowing he won’t be able to fit his old clothes because of how big he’s gotten. but you still kept all of his old clothes just incase you wanted to wear them. the last thing you made sure to do was get him lots of gifts and to get his most important gift touched up. dedicating a whole week to getting your hair, nails, and feet done as well as a nice wax.
you made quick work of getting dressed, already having your outfit picked out days ago for the occasion. your entire house was decorated and you had everything ready for a nice dinner to be shared, feeling content with yourself as you skipped out the door.
his facility was about two hours and some change away, so you had plenty of time to think of what you will say when you are finally met with the love of your life. as you kept your speech engraved in your mind, you decided to turn some of his favorite songs on when you got close where they’re keeping him, wanting him to have all of his favorite things on his first day out. you were so nervous, but excited at the same time. it’s been so long since you were able to touch and feel this man without a guard breathing down your neck. to be able to lay with this man, and walk around the house knowing that he was near and not two hours away.
during your last visit you asked if you needed to come in to sign anything or say anything for him to be let out, but all ony told you was to be waiting in the car, so that’s exactly what you did. the car stayed running with i gotta find peace of mind by lauryn hill playing as you stood with your back leaning on the passenger door. you checked the time on your apple watch and before you knew it the doors were opening. the sight of this man caused a million emotions to run through your mind at once. you were in complete awe at how beautiful he was.
tall built frame adorning a shirt so tight you thought it might rip as well as some sweatpants that hugged his thighs a little tighter than they used to. the only thing that seemed to fit like it used to was his sneakers. you instantly rushed into his arms, forgetting whatever words you had planned as you cried into his chest. “missed you too mama” his deep voice brought vibrations to his chest as he rubbed up and down your back.
“m-m’so happy. i t-though i wasn’t gonna be able to push through, b-but i did it and now you’re coming home” your words brought a couple tears to ony’s deep brown eyes, letting them freely roll down his cheeks as he left light kissed on your head. the two of you stayed like that for what felt like forever before calming down and getting a good look at each other. ony was big, bigger than before. the clothes he wore when he came in barely fit him anymore. “you’re huge” you giggled as ony flexed his arms for you. “i know. you brought some clothes for me pretty?”
you gave him a quick kiss before leading him to the car, opening the back seat before handing him some bigger sweatpants. “i forgot the shirt” ony waved it off, instantly putting his handing on the bottom of his shirt and taking it off, letting the tight white tank top he had on be shown to the world. “s’long as i can take these tight ass sweats off. feel like m’wearing leggings or sum” the two of you laughed before getting in the car. you drove him to a nearby gas station so he could change before getting back on the road to go home.
as you drove you could feel ony’s eyes on you, moving up and down on your figure as he watched you focus on the road. you couldn’t keep a straight face, shyly smiling as you spoke. “whattt?” you whined, making him chuckle before laying his hand on your thigh. “you so beautiful ma. really missed you” his hand lightly squeezed your thigh before creeping up higher. thick tattood fingers brushing against your skirt as ony leaned over to plant kisses on your neck. you knew this was coming.
“papa m’drivingggg. you want me t’crash?” you whined before lifting your shoulder to remove his access to your sensitive neck. “y’look so sexy when you drive tho. lemme just-” he slowly moved his hands between your thighs, surprised to feel his fingers immediately meet the flesh of your pussy. you smiled to yourself as ony released a quiet gasp at the realization. “no panties? you driving me crazy” his dick jumped in excitement at the sight of you as well as the feeling of your warm heat, making ony anxiously glance at the time. he prayed you were at least an hour out, but you’ve only been driving for fourth-five minutes and he knew he wasn’t going to last. “pull over ma”
“what? why? you alri-”
“yea i’m good i just need you t’pull over real fast.”
you listened to his request, slowly merging to the right until you’ve reached the side of the road. there weren’t many cars out today so it didn’t take much effort. as soon as the car slowed to a stop, ony got out. taking two steps before reaching the back seat door. “come here pretty girl” you opened your mouth to complain, but it was caught in your throat at you caught sight of the big bulge in this man’s sweatpants. you made your way to the back before ony quickly sat you on his lap. “pa i don’t have tints”
“ion care. need you t’ride this dick ‘fore i cum in my fuckin pants” he pulled your ass up, having your upper body leaning over his shoulder as he quickly dug two of his thick fingers into you. you instantly melted at the contact, the sensation feeling foreign to your body since it’s been so long. you couldn’t even speak at the moment, settling for deep breaths and the prettiest moans as ony quickly fingered you.
“y’so fuckin tight mama. my pussy been missin me huh?” his deep voice rang in your ears as you nodded your head to his question. ony wasn’t satisfied with that though, quickly snatching his fingers from your entrance to leave a hard slap on your ass before thrusting them back into you. “talk t’me baby. wanna hear that pretty voice” he dug into you as fast as ever, making you have to stutter each of your words out as you tried to give the proper response. “m-missed y-you so-soo much d-daddy”
ony smiled at your response, quickening his pace as he let you move your hips and fuck yourself onto his fingers. “that’s what daddy like t’hear. want y’to make a pretty mess on my fingers. can y’do that for me princess?” the word “yes” was on the tip of your tongue, but never fell as you felt ony snatch your release out of you, loud gasps and moans flew from your lips as you leaked all over him. your warm fluids trickling down his arm before soaking onto his grey sweatpants, but ony payed it no mind. he slowly moved his fingers from you before guiding your body down on his dick.
“i’ll be gentle” he reassured you before slowly sliding you down onto him. inch by inch you whimpered as you felt the stinging stretch of his dick. “i know mama, i know. daddy sorry. shouldn’t have left you like this f’so long.” he wiped your tears from your cheeks, giving you light pecks on the lips as he let you adjust to his size. “m’here now. wont do it again ‘kay?” ony didn’t look for a reply from you, slowly lifting your hips before fucking you onto his dick. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let out a silent scream. it’s been so long since you’ve had his body against yours, his big hands roaming your body as well as his thick dick rubbing against your walls.
tears start fall again as you happily bounced up and down on him, diamond chain dangling from your neck as his initial at the bottom sparkled in the sun. “fuckkk ma” he groaned before shooting ropes of cum deep into you. it’s clearly been so long for him as well. the feeling of your tight walls so foreign to him that he couldn’t help but fill you up quickly, but that didn’t stop him. ony’s dick stayed hard as he picked up to the pace you just held, eventually bouncing you down on him harder as the two of your releases mixed inside of you. “i got a lot more t’give you mama. try to keep up”
you had picked ony up at around eleven, but didn’t get home until five. after the two of you finished showing how much you missed each other, your legs were too weak to drive. you tried to tell ony no since his license was expired, but he ignored you. “you gon kill us if you try to drive wit them jelly legs ma” he chuckled before taking the wheel. he didn’t last another twenty minutes before his fingers were deep in your pussy again, quickly fucking you as he drove. as soon as you were finished you saw his dick, hard as can be in his sweats. “can’t leave you like that” you’d said before quickly getting to work. sucking him so good that he had no choice but to slow down and eventually stop to take you to the back and give you the best head of your life as a reward.
ony carried you from the car to the house, chuckling and giving you many kisses all over your face. you quickly wiggled from his arms and stood in front of the door. “you ready?” you said excitedlyyy. ony gave you two thumbs up, taking a deep breath before nodding his head. you unlocked the door and walked him inside. the house was the same, but different. many pictures of you replaced with pictures of him as he looked at the frames adorning the living room walls. the kitchen looked exactly how he left it as well as the dining room. as ony looked around you quietly went to the bedroom to bring out his gifts and putting them on the couch as you waited for him to finish his inspection. “how you feel?” you asked, smiling from ear to ear on the couch.
ony’s eyes were filled with disbelief. this was something he dreamed of doing while locked in his cell for all those years. walking freely around his home, only footsteps away from you instead of miles. ony turned towards you, eyeing the gifts before making his was to the couch. “real good. what’s all this?” he lightly ran his hands on one of the boxes while giving you a confused look. “s’for you.” his brown eyes looked into yours, shaking his head as he caressed your chin. “you always so good t’me ma” your stomach did flips as he slowly moved his hand from your chin to around your neck, lifting you from the couch before giving you a sloppy kiss on the lips. this was the first time the two of you have gotten to really enjoy each others lips. tongues gliding over each other as spit kept the two of you connected.
ony’s free hand smoothed down your back, stopping at you ass to give it a tight squeeze. before you knew it, he had you turned around and bent over the front of the couch, giving him a perfect view of your beautiful body as well as the lovely home he’s been missing. “missed this” he mumbled as he freed his dick from the confines of his sweats. lining up with your tight entrances before thrusting in fully. as his hips met your ass, a loud cry left your lips. your body jerking forwards from his hard thrusts as ony pounded your pussy with vigor. “m’so proud of you mama. you held this shit down real well”
ony looked all over his house, taking in the very missed scenery. an idea popped into his head, making a devilish smirk appear on his face as he pulled out of you. “daddy m’not finisheddd” you whined, earning you a hard slap on your ass before ony turned you around. “stop whining baby. ima give you what you want.” with that he lifted you in his arms, kissing you as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “gon fuck you everywhere in here”
before you could reply you were interrupted by the feeling of his dick being pushed up your walls. ony bounced you onto him in the air, walking around the house until he reached the dining room table. he laid you down on your back before wrapping his inked hand around your neck. “need you to cum in every room. can you do that f’me mama?” his dick caressed your walls perfectly as he roughly fucked you on the table, each stroke kissing all the right places. your moans bounced off the walls as you repeatedly cried out in ecstasy. you’ve spent many nights dreaming about what the two of you would be doing when he finally came home, but no dream could ever amount to this.
“throw that shit back mama. make daddy cum” ony groaned as you repeatedly fucked yourself onto his dick. the two of you were now on the kitchen floor, having fucked each other silly in every other room in the house except the bedroom. your pussy was sensitive to the touch and ony was two orgasms away from shooting blanks, but neither of you cared. continuing to love on each other as if y’all haven’t been fucking for hours. “missed you. so. fuckin. much mama shittt” his inked hand landed roughly on your ass repeatedly as he watched your ass move on his dick. pretty brown flesh ricocheting off his abdomen as you took all of his inches. “missed you oh my goddd i missed you so much too daddy. don’t want you t’leave me ever again” you said as another orgasm ripped through you. you cried out as you shook on the floor, your release spilling onto the tile as ony picked up where you left off. “ian ever gon leave you again mama, trust.”
when you got to the bedroom that’s when things started to wind down. ony fed you slow deep strokes as he looked lovingly into your eyes. “i love you so much…..so fuckin much” he moaned as he wiped your tear stained cheeks. you didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, just laying there and letting him take control as you cried happy tears. all those nights where you’d scream and cry were finally over as you leaned up to kiss his wet lips. “i love you more papa. cant believe you’re really here” you mumbled through kisses as you felt ony’s dick reach deeper into you. “oh my god onyyyy!” you moaned, back arching off the bed as you felt your release on the tip of your tongue. “go head baby, m’right there wit you” ony stroked you deeper and before you knew it, the both of your releases mixed together before slowly tricking out of you from the sides. the two of you stayed like that, taking each other in as you caught your breath.
“ima run us a bath aight?” ony mumbled before slowly pulling out if you and making his way to the bathroom. the two of you bathed together, washing away the sweat and fluids from your night before getting out and putting on some comfy pajamas.
“how you know what size i am?” ony chuckled as he looked down at the pajama pants he had on. he expected to be met with small clothes when he got home, but you made sure to get him right. “when i went to visit i noticed how big you got. just went two sizes up” he nodded along to what you were saying before tying his durag up and crawling into bed. you crawled in next to him, cuddling up to his side before throwing your leg over his. “still can’t believe this is real. like you’re really in this bed with me. it’s been so long baby.” ony could hear the sadness in your voice, looking down at you before tilting your chin up towards him. he gave you a loving kiss, taking your hand and laying it on his chest where his heart was beating. “feel that?” he asked.
“mhmm”
“good, ‘cause it’s real. i’m where i was supposed to be all those years, wit you”
ony stared down into your watery eyes. brown orbs mirroring yours as his began to well up too.
“i’m home”
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d4yl1ghts · 2 months
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Hi could I request an Anthony bridgerton x wife(reader) angst where he married his wife who used to be from the lower class and they end up having a fight because she did something that is “out of class or wrong” so she ends up giving him the silent treatment
unfair (1)
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(mean?) anthony bridgerton x wife, fem!reader
summary: after benedict makes a rude comment about your past and anthony doesn’t do anything about it, you and anthony end up having an argument
A/N- i hope this is alright, i felt the need to make it have a happy ending
part 2
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Your husband of three months sat beside you with your hand gently clasped in his. You were at his family’s house for a meal and Benedict had been getting on your last nerve, he had arrived drunk for a start. He had also been attacking your social status as you were from a lower class family. Anthony knew this was getting to you, so he took your hand in a way to calm you. “So, Y/N, how was it growing up in the streets?”, Benedict obliviously questioned. You knew he was only saying it because he was drunk but this was too far. “Would you please stop going at me for where I grew up?!”, you raised your voice slightly as you stood up.
“Darling, sit down.”, Anthony carefully whispered to you, as if one wrong move would set you off. “No, I’m not going to sit down! Are you just going to let your brother treat me like that?”, you said lowering your voice towards the end. “Of course he has no right to treat you like that but darling, there is no need to raise your voice.”, the eldest Bridgerton replied.
You sighed in defeat. How was he going to just allow this? You arose from your seat again, tucked your chair in and stormed off into the room the two of you were currently staying in.
Violet watched you leave and turned to Benedict: “You can not act like such towards your brother’s wife, Benedict.”
Benedict just watched her in amusement but she knew he would regret this when he had sobered up. “I do not care if you’re drunk, tomorrow morning you will apologise to Y/N as she has done nothing wrong.”
“And Anthony, will you go and check on Y/N instead of just sitting there?! She is your wife, you know!”, Violet exclaimed. Anthony rushed off silently, realising he had acted impulsively. He lightly knocked on the door of your shared bedroom. “My love?”, he tenderly called out to you through the door, making sure he was alright to come in. “Go away.”, you yelled back at him. He could hear light sniffles and sobs. He felt awfully bad.
“Can I please come in?”, he tried again. Silence. He took this as a sign to go in. He was met with you weeping into the sheets of your king-sized bed. “Come here darling, it is quite alright.”, he hushed you but you pushed him away, ignoring his presence. “That was out of class, my love.”, he’d whisper, caressing the back of your hand. You instantly removed your hand from his. “How dare you speak to me like that?! Get out.” He saw the build up of tears in your eyes and knew he must leave you alone for the moment.
Why did he say that? What caused him to say that?
He sat idly against the back of his bedroom door, listening to you silently crying. Anthony felt horrible, he caused this! After half an hour, you opened the door to an asleep Anthony. He looked so peaceful- until you opened the door and he fell back. “Are you okay?”, you asked, trying to hide your laugh. “Yes, I am fine I believe.”, he smiled, watching you laugh. He let out his own quiet chuckle. “About before, I’m so sorry, my love…”, he began. “I do not know what got into me, I’m so sorry.”, he said with a longing and genuine look in his gorgeous eyes. “If you are truly sorry then I guess it is fine, you do have such an impulsive nature.”
Anthony sighed with pleasure as he brought his lips up to yours and hastily and passionately kissed you, breathing you in.
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mermaidgirl30 · 18 days
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✨New Beginnings✨
Joel Miller x fem! reader
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Series Masterlist
A/N: I loved writing this, it was so soft 🥹 This can be read as a stand alone, but it is a continuation of my fic Fortnight! I hope you enjoy! This is the ending I wanted for them 🥰 Might write another little cute one shot for them in the near future because I love them so much. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading and helping me with the mood board 🩷
Summary: You’ve spent the last three years healing, growing, and letting go. During a day at the lake, fate steps in when you run into Joel without a wedding ring on.
Word Count: 2.9k
Rating: 18+ Only
Tags: fluff, flirting, making up for lost time, old flame, no use y/n, reader sees Joel again after 3 years, reader has a dog named Sammy
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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The summer breeze of Austin rushes through your hair, the smell of fresh oak, the sloshing sounds of lapping blue water, and the feel of new beginnings permeates throughout the air. Summer. Your favorite time of year, your favorite place to be. Georgetown Lake. An escape, a picturesque safe haven where you can sunbathe and let Sammy, your golden retriever, pounce around the clear water as it splashes against his sandy fur. 
   You’ve been doing okay lately, healing, moving on like you should’ve a long time ago. After sulking around the house days after the mail incident with Joel, you knew it was time to do something, anything to make that pit of sadness wash away. You couldn’t face Tess again, face him, not after you broke down in tears the moment he slipped his calloused fingers firmly around your wrist. It was too much, too soon, too fresh. Even though it had been years since you’d broken up. You never quite got over him, his face, his eyes. But It was way past time, the time to move on.
   So you moved, put a sign outside your house to let everyone know it was on the market and sold to the first offer you got. You remember Joel’s face after he saw the posted sign in your yard full of dying roses. He looked so sad, the flecks of his dark irises shining in the February chill as you caught his eyes after hammering the sign in the soft ground. You were wilting more than your red roses, and you needed a breath of fresh air, a way to thrive and grow like your flowers used to be. It was your sign to flee.
   After you sold your house and moved half an hour away, you could finally breathe, the wilts of your lilting petals starting to bloom and thrive the longer you were away from them. 
   You saw the pictures of their wedding on social media, saw how truly happy they looked. You remember shedding a tear or two looking at the photographs, at her flowing wedding dress, at their shared kiss after saying their “I do’s”. It was enough to send you spiraling, enough to make you drop your laptop and crack the screen. And that was the last time you saw Joel Miller. There was no sense in dwindling over what if’s. It was over, done. You swore you’d never see his face again in the city of Austin. He was the past, you had to look towards your future.
   You got a new job, working for an environmental engineering company and helping with tracking the bluegill and catfish populations in the lakes around Austin. You liked working outside, loved being near the water. You always felt at home out on the lake with the soft sand sinking between your toes, the calm breeze always blowing away any worries of your messy life. But it wasn’t so messy anymore. It was peaceful, bright, made you feel alive. 
   You throw the damp tennis ball again, laughing at the way Sammy flops into the water and splashes around, eagerly fetching the soaked ball as he brings it over to you again. 
   “You ready, Sammy? Go get it!” you yell as you toss the ball back towards the water. He shakes his soaked fur and makes a run for it, but he stops half way and perks his fuzzy ears up at something in the distance. “Sammy?”
   You watch him pant happily and make a dash for it in the opposite direction, barking at nothing you can see. “Sammy!” You follow after him, sprinting behind as you hear his chipper barks and feel your hair blow back behind you as you chase after him. 
   “Sammy, come on! This isn’t like you,” you breathe out as you run until your legs feel like jello and feel as if you’ll pass out at any second. 
   Your bare feet drag through the sand on the shore, your breath feeling as if it’s on fire as you run and run and run until you finally see his giddy, long tail and golden paws that leap up off the ground. What’s got him so excited? He never runs up to strangers. 
   “Sammy! Come here, boy,” you clap your hands together as you walk towards whoever he’s got wrapped around his cute, fluffy face. 
   “I’m so sorry. He’s not usually like this. I…” You freeze, your breath hitching as you stare at the man that fully consumes your vision. Joel. 
   He looks over at you, a warm smile curling against the edge of his plush lips as his golden brown eyes crinkle down at you. It nearly takes your breath away. He looks so… good. 
   He’s filled out more, his flexed arms and broad chest clinging to his white t-shirt, corded veins twisting down his tan arms almost like you remember. He looks more buff, more healthy, like maybe he stopped drinking that amber colored whiskey he used to love. His grey threaded curls are grown out, his doe brown eyes more shiny, more alive than the last time you saw him. And he looks like he’s happy, so happy. It’s amazing what three years of not seeing him can do to your own mind. The sight of him almost makes you dizzy, delusional, like maybe this is fate. 
   “Joel?” you whisper out, your voice shaky and breathy as your eyes slide down his blue swim trunks, his leather sandals, his tan skin that seems to glow like glitter under the orange beams of the sunlight. 
   “Yeah, it’s me. Nice to see Sammy’s doin’ good. Guess he remembers me,” he chuckles as he bends down and scratches the back of Sammy’s fluffy ears. Sammy jumps up and licks the side of his face as another infectious smile takes over Joel’s glowing face. 
   Joel laughs as he wipes the slobber from his greying scruff and stands back up, bright eyes blazing through you as he flicks his gaze slowly over your figure. You feel a little self conscious standing in your too short denim shorts and baby blue crop top as you fold your arms nervously over your chest. Why are you so nervous?
   “It’s uhh… good to see ya. How ya been?” he asks slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as his hand drags through the curling strands that sit against the nape of his neck.
   “Good. Yeah, good,” you nod as your fingers dance nervously up and down your scorching arms. “What about you?” 
   “Yeah, I’ve been good, too. Busy, but that’s always good. Been workin’ a lot, contractin’, the usual.”
   You nod your head, watching the way his heavy gaze never leaves your eyes. Suddenly, it feels too hot, too intense. That spark simmers low in your stomach, that strong pull that you always felt when you were around him. It’s almost like you were meant to meet here like this, unplanned. Maybe it was fate. Maybe… but then you remember Tess. Where was Tess?
   “You, umm enjoyin’ your new place? House, apartment, wherever you moved?” His tone is gentle, like he’s genuinely interested in how you’ve been, where you moved. And it feels strange, but also like it needs to be asked.
   “Oh, yeah. Actually, I love it. I moved just a few miles from the lake. It’s so peaceful, being able to come out here whenever I want to.” Your eyes flick over the calm water, examining the gentle ripples of the clear lake, but then Joel’s deep voice brings you back to the present. 
   “Sounds like you’ve been doin’ good.” He gives you a lazy smile, one where it’s crooked and soft and so serene that you can’t help but smile back. 
   “Yeah, I really have.”
   “That’s good, real good,” he says as he nods his head, just continuing to stare at you in awe. And it’s like you’re just seeing him for the first time, that summertime glow just sizzling off his tan skin. 
   Your eyes wander over him, lapping up his broad muscles and dreamy smile and untamed curls. He looks so handsome. You don’t know what it is, but something brand new seems to shine through him. 
   “You look… different,” you say with narrowed eyes, trying to assess what exactly is different, but you’re not sure what. 
   “Yeah? That a good thing or bad thing?” he chuckles as he runs a hand straight back through his lush curls. The action makes your breath get caught in the back of your throat. 
   “I dunno. Think it looks good on you, whatever it is.” You smile nervously up at him and bat your eyelashes flirtatiously. 
   “Yeah?” he smirks as the flecks of his dark eyes glisten under the rays of the hot sun. 
   “Yeah,” you reply bashfully. “You seem more… happy.”
   He chuckles as he shoves his thick fingers into the pockets of his blue shorts. “Guess that’s what happens when a man stops drinkin’.”
   Your eyes grow wide as your mouth drops open. “You? The Joel Miller has stopped drinking his precious whiskey?” you ask dumbfoundedly. 
   “Mhm. Mostly. Haven’t touched a bottle in three months. Been doin’ good, feelin’ stronger, more sharp. Even been hittin’ the gym.”
   You smile warmly over at him, your eyes alight as you drop your arms to your side and nod, his words taking your breath right out from your chest. “Joel, that’s so great. I’m so… so… proud of you.”
   He nods slowly at you, the dimple indenting the middle of his cheek as his crooked smile makes you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. Like there’s hope. “Proud of me, huh?”
   “Yeah,” you whisper out. 
   “Well, that’s sweet of ya to say, darlin’.”
   Darlin’.  He hasn’t called you that in so long, you almost forgot how good it feels to hear seep off his sticky sweet voice, that gravelly lull that soothes your racing pulse in your chest. 
   You suddenly notice his left hand, tracing every inch, every tan speck of his thick fingers. It’s unusually bare, no gold ring like in the wedding pictures you saw online. It’s gone, vanished. Was Tess and him, dare you say… over?
   He watches you assess his empty ring finger, his eyes flicking over your narrowed, confused face as you stare so hard that you think your eyes might fall out onto the smooth sand. 
   You open your mouth, drawing air into your tight lungs, until you release the words you’ve been wondering this whole entire time. “Are you and Tess still…” You can’t even finish your sentence, afraid that maybe he’d just left his ring at home or left it at the jewelry shop to get polished up. 
   He lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head. “Nah. We ended things last year.”
   “Oh.” You’re dumbstruck, your mouth agape as he says the words you were almost too scared to hope for. Not that you wanted things to end badly between them, but somewhere deep inside you still wished that maybe one day you could find each other again. And as fate twisted its tethered vines around the two of you, it seems like this was meant to be. 
   “I’m sorry, Joel,” you say with tight knit brows. 
   “Don’t gotta apologize, wasn’t your fault.”
   “I know, but still. I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”
   He shrugs his broad shoulders and gives you a tight lipped smile. “After gettin’ married, we jus’ realized we wanted different things. Things weren’t the same as before, and we decided it was better off if we went our own separate ways. There’s no hard feelings, jus’ was better off not bein’ together. We gave it a good two years, but ultimately it jus’ didn’t work out, and that’s fine. Had a lot of growin’ to do after, found my own pace again. It was the best choice. I’m much… guess you could say happier now.”
   “Oh, well that’s good. I’m glad things turned out for the best.”
   “Me too.” 
   You give Joel a small smile, and he sends a dreamy one back your way, all crinkled eyes and that crooked smile that makes you dizzy every time you look at him. 
   He shifts his weight and digs his heel into the soft sand. His eyes look down towards the ground, then flick slowly up towards you, almost like he’s nervous. 
   “Hey, do you maybe wanna go grab some coffee this week with me?” His hand scratches the back of the scruff on his neck nervously as his jaw ticks from the building anticipation. 
   “Houndstooth Coffee?” you ask with a raised brow. 
   He chuckles warmly and nods. “‘Course. Only the best.”
   You smile in reply. “Okay. Yeah. I’m in.”
   “Great.” 
   You both stand there in the heat of the afternoon, gentle smiles pressing against both of your lips as Sammy barks and runs circles around you and Joel. 
   As if Sammy is trying to intrude on the awkward moment between you and Joel, he jumps up and presses his damp paws on your back which knocks you off balance and sends you lurching forward. 
   “Sammy!” you whine. As if on cue, Joel reaches out and catches you, wrapping his strong arms around your hips as he balances you back on your feet. 
   “Whoa there, easy now,” he chuckles as he lingers his big hands on your shimmering skin. Your mouth parts open, and you gasp as you look up to find kind, dreamy brown eyes staring down at you, almost like he’s mesmerized. And for the moment, it feels like the first time the two of you ever met, almost magical, but this seems new. 
   You hook a strand of hair nervously behind your ear and laugh. “Always showing up at the right time it seems.”
   “Yeah, seems like it,” he smiles kindly. 
   You stand there breathing his air, feeling a little dizzy at the smell of his woodsy scent, no more whiskey fragrance lingering in his sandy hair. You feel the tension, the chemistry just bursting at the seams. And you know now that this was fate, it had to be. 
   Joel gives Sammy a couple more scratches behind the ears and then looks over at you with a crooked smile. “Well, it was good seein’ ya again. Been a long time,” he sighs while you nod in response. 
   “Yeah, it really has…”
   Another long minute goes by and then he’s taking one hesitant step back. “Well, guess I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll umm text you about coffee.”
   Before he can take another step back, you hold your hand out as if to reach him. “Wait.” He ticks his jaw and knits his eyebrows together as he waits for you to finish. “Where do you think you’re going?” 
   He smirks over at you. “Jus’ thought I’d let you get back to enjoyin’ the lake. Figured I was interruptin’.”
   You shake your head. “No, not at all. Please, stay.” You give him your best puppy dog eyes, and he chuckles in response as his dark brown irises seem to glow in the sunlight.
   “Always knew how to get me with those big, beautiful eyes.”
   You crinkle your nose up at him and bag your eyelashes sweetly up at him. “What, like this?”
   He just crosses his broad arms over his chest and smirks over at you. “Mhm. Jus’ like that, gorgeous. Jus’ like that.”
   Your cheeks heat up as you feel the crimson blush taking over, lingering your fingers against his wrist as you ask sweetly. “So, will you stay?”
   Joel nods and smiles. “Yeah, darlin’. I’ll stay.”
   And he does stay, until the sun starts to slip under the fluffy clouds. He stays the entire afternoon, walking along the shoreline with you, playing fetch with Sammy, catching up on lost time together, starting fresh. It’s almost like he never left, picking up right where you left off. And maybe it was supposed to be like this. Like you had to fall apart to fall back into one another. 
   And when the sunset starts to fade to light purples and pink colors in the distance while you sit on the edge of the wooden dock, he leans over and kisses you softly. It’s like the world fades to black, and there’s only you and Joel getting lost in one another. His hands cradle your face softly, his plush lips melting into yours as you taste him and let the syrupy taste mix in with yours. 
   This is how it was supposed to be, how it was always supposed to be. You had to find each other later in life, begin again, have this special moment in time. It was fate, always had been. He was always the one for you, and this just solidifies it. 
   When he breaks the kiss, you lean against him while he wraps a large arm around you. You gaze out to the calm blue water and take a breath of fresh wildflowers in the air. “Joel?”
   “Hmm?” he hums as he looks down at you. 
   “Thank you for staying.”
   He leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “‘Course, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ anywhere. Gonna just stay right here with you in my arms.”
   You lean your full weight into his warm chest as he scoops you up into his lap and hooks his arms around your waist, his lips lingering against your jawline. You take a deep breath and smile as you look out against the misty lake. You were finally home, with him. 
   Your forever. 
Tags: @laurrrra @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @littlevenicebitch69 @honey-dip-24 @sawymredfox
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a-b-riddle · 1 month
Text
A Simple (Mis) Understanding Chapter One: Location, Location, Location
John
"MacTavish," It had been about three months since the 141 had returned from our last OP. It had been a rough one and, although, we had all come back alive, we didn't come back unscathed. And we all had to thank a pretty little IT 'expert' to thank for that. Stupid fucking Omega...
"Usually I'm the one calling you. To what do I owe the pleasure?" I threw back the amber colored liquor, finishing the last of my latest bottle. It seemed all I had in my free time was drinking myself into an early grave.
Good.
"Care for a hunting trip, Cap'n?" Johnny's tone was playful, which was almost always never a good sign. MacTavish could seek out trouble like a bloody bloodhound. 
"What d'ya have in mind?" I humored. I had come home to a sedentary life style. Any ideals I had about settling down, extinguished. I wasn't as young as I used to be, but I'm still too into the fight to retire now. So whatever Johnny had in mind, surely must be something worth at least entertaining.
"A pretty little flower." He says and I swear I can almost hear the see the smirk on his face. "Stands at about five foot three. Has a knack for stabbing a man in the back right after suckin' 'im dry."
Daisy.
"You got a lead then I take it?" I try to stifle the anger as I feel it beginning to bubble. Every Alpha instinct is telling me to track, hunt, kill. Before, every biological urge I had toward our flower was to protect, keep, and fuck until she forgot her own bloody name. Now, I wasn't so sure I could stand the sight of her long enough to get the answers I wanted-- needed-- before absolutely tearing her to fucking shreds. 
"Aye." He confirmed. "Wanted to see if you were up for it before I called the lads."
"How polite."
"You're still, Cap'n."   "And I know you had more..." There was a shift in his tone. Unease as he tried to find the words, but couldn't. He couldn't. None of us could. Because none of us could describe what had happened with Daisy. Betrayal is too gentle of a word, too short and modest of a word to describe what she had done to us; hell, me. Johnny cleared his throat. Clearly uncomfortable and wanting to retract the beginning of whatever statement he had intended on making.  "Join me to settle an old debt, ye?" 
I didn't need to think twice about Johnny's officer. An opportunity to finish what we started back in Austria. I didn't regret stopping Johnny as much as I did not getting the answers I needed before the little bitch disappeared like a damn thief in the night. Now was the chance. Not only revenge for what we had been through, but the betrayal she had put us through. Jeopardizing not only the 141, but the few loved ones we had. My mum, MacTavish's sisters, Garrick's entire fucking family and the little solace that Simon had. A peace of mind knowing if he wanted to start living again, he could. All of it was almost lost. 
"You got eyes on our-" No. She wasn't ours anymore. Not our girl. Not our flower. Sure as fuck never our Omega. "On her."
"I got an address." If he noticed my pause, he didn't say anything. For that I'm grateful. I can't be weak again because some of doe-eyed little Omega. One who whispered sweet lies about how good my knot felt and all the things she wanted in life. Things we-I- wanted.  "Had an old contact have her name pop up. Hen is too fucking dense to make sure to use an alias especially considering she stayed on our side of the pond."
Don't really plan on going home after this. Not really anything waiting for me back there except some student debt. She had hid the pain of having no family well, but, now after everything, nothing seemed genuine. Every kiss, every touch, every smile and laugh she had thrown my way was now tainted.
Now it was time to bury it all.
"I'll call Garrick." That was all the confirmation Johnny would get out of me. I didn't want to seem too eager to finally get my hands on her. I needed to be collected. Level headed. I was the Alpha. I was the one my team looked to for guidance. I had already failed them once. I damn sure wouldn't be doing it again. "I'll let you convince Riley to come along."
"Lettin' me call in the boogeyman?" Johnny was smiling again. Could fucking hear it in his voice. He was the one who had probably fallen the hardest for the little bitch. Indulging him in soft touches and soothing his temper. Probably the same reason he had put a barrel to her forehead the moment she had admitted to it.
I was going to tell you. She had tried to excuse her delay as if that were the issue. I just didn't know how to tell you. But can you blame me? Yes. We could. And we did. For the shitty last seven months. For the constant worry all of us had for having to pull our mind out of the mission to worry about what was going on back home.
Her tears didn't save her. Only until Laswell came in raising an absolute bloody stink. Claims of how the very audacity to potentially injure an Omega on her team could cost her career. Fuck her career.
"Send me the details." I pulled another bottle off the shelf. Promising myself it would be the last one I had until I finally pulled that weed of a woman out of existence. Killing her meant I could finally move on. Find someone, certainly not a fucking Omega, to settle down with. I could heal from the heartbreak I would never admit to. It would be the ending that we all needed.
"Will do Cap'n." Johnny didn't wait for my dismissal before he hung up. He was just as ready for a hunt as I was.
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the-horny-vault · 10 months
Text
I was asked to elaborate on this so here goes hehe
My kingdom is conquered, my throne usurped, and my body sold to the invader king in exchange for peace. The sheer, floaty gauze of my wedding gown clings to my curves as I'm escorted by my new husband's guards to my wedding bed.
They leave me in the chamber alone, nothing to do but sit and wait. Minutes tick by and my apprehension grows, all the ways this night could go flashing through my mind seemingly endlessly. He could turn out gentle, or not.
In truth, the first time I met him was at the end of the aisle, and all I know of my new husband is his reputation and the single hot, bruising kiss he'd left on my lips to seal our vows. I'm so caught up in my mind that I don't hear footsteps approaching until the door is flung open. The noise startles me to my feet, my heart leaping into my throat as if to choke me as I see Him step inside. I don't know what to do, so I simply stand and watch him, trying to hide the shaking in my knees as he does the same, his eyes seeming to burn straight through the flimsy material draping my body as they rake over my figure. He looms over me, broad and strong as he comes closer, setting a tankard of some alcohol down on the table.
I'm truly shaking now, trying not to cower from him as he crowds me slowly against the bed, never taking those dark, intense eyes off of me. Just as I find the courage to open my mouth to speak, his hand flashes out, gripping the back of my neck harshly, turning my words into a strangled whimper as he forces my head back. I can hardly move in his grip, just squirm pathetically. His free hand finds the pin at the center of my gown and he rips it free, causing the fabric to cascade open, hanging from my shoulders but leaving the rest of me completely exposed. My cheeks burn, and something burns between my legs as well, strange and unfamiliar.
His grip on my neck eases, the hand instead sliding the straps from my shoulders and leaving the dress to flutter to the floor. Immediately his hands are on me, squeezing and gripping my soft curves, groping me roughly.
"Brave little thing, aren't you, Princess?" His voice is rough and deep in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "Giving yourself in exchange for peace, that's rare." Suddenly his hand is between my thighs, pushing my legs apart and sinking two fingers into my cunt before I can react or close my legs. The stretch forces a small cry from my throat, my knees almost buckling at the unfamiliar sensation.
"Do you really know what you did, though?" He muses over my shaky breaths. "Do you know what you signed up for?" He rocks his fingers once, twice in my cunt then they're gone, leaving me strangely empty. He steps back and quickly strips himself of his clothes, and I can't help but feel a little flutter in my belly at the sight. I have no other reference but his cock is just as big as the rest of him, thick and imposing and I don't know how I'm going to take it all. I must have shown my shock on my face, because he laughs. It's not a cruel sound but it makes my hair stand up.
He moves again, suddenly, his fingers digging into my side as he forces me back into the bed. It all happens too fast for me to process, in an instant I'm on my back, my legs are forced wide and his cock is buried in my cunt in one swift motion. I scream, the burning of his cock, huge and heavy in my cunt, wracks my whole body. My nails dig into his back but he doesn't care, rolling his hips and somehow sheathing himself deeper. I can hear him speak, but my brain can hardly understand his words as I feel like I'm being split open.
"this is the cost of peace, little Princess. You sold your body to be my toy, my breeding whore. All you're good for now is this sweet little cunt and those pretty curves, you understand." I want to scream, to fight, but I submit, tears streaming down my cheeks as I go limp with a weak whine. He uses my cunt relentlessly, slamming into me over and over until he cums with a primal growl, spilling inside and pumping my womb full of his hot seed. He sits back then, still buried in my pussy, and looks me over as I lay under him, my chest heaving and my body trembling from his abuse. One large hand wanders down my body, pinching and rolling my nipples, smoothing over my stomach until it rests above my womb.
"You're going to bear my heirs, Princess, I'm going to keep you full and bred, that's your purpose now." I still don't move as he pulls out and stands, taking a swig from the forgotten drink on the table before laying himself down beside me and dragging my body flush against his. As I lay there, playing what happened over in my mind, I came to a realization. He was rough, brutal, uncaring.
But I'd liked it.
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blingblong55 · 5 months
Text
Merry little Christmas-141
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Photo credits:(twitter/X) @/bigmikemw
A/N: Have yourself a merry little Christmas -Kasper <3
---- GN!Reader, platonic!relationship? fluff/comfort? ----
After so much loss, blood, tears and sweat, Task Force 141 found themselves in a cabin, a Christmas tree decorated, a fireplace lit and much laughter filled the room. The once empty and cold cabin now hosted the fond memory. It was the night before Christmas when not a soldier was awoken by night terrors, not even a gun used to inflict harm; the camouflaged stockings were hung by the Chimney with care, in hope that peace would soon be brought to their lives; The soldiers all nestled in their beds; Smoke from cigars now gone as even the eldest of them all slept well.
By morning, the soldiers woke up, Gaz, Price, Soap, Ghost and R/N and to their surprise, Kate Laswell had gifts that greeted them all. Price sat int he sofa first, Soap and Gaz smiling like they won the war. Ghost and R/N walked in with mugs for all to have and through the early morning, they read the letter that sat upon the chimney, opened gifts and smiled to know someone out there thought of them with care.
Gaz received a new hat, multiple actually, one that was happily decorated with the word 'Soccer' the same one he would wear to taunt his best mate for some time. Soap received a football signed and dedicated to him from his favourite team and a letter from his family back home. This of course brought the young soldier to tears as he smiled at the letters his mother so lovingly wrote for him. R/N, received a letter as well, written by Laswell, thanking the young soldier for their sacrifice when they helped Laswell in some past operation and then, the small box held a mask, made just for them. "Just like the one I lost." You recall a past operation, losing a mask and also losing part of yourself. "To the memory of the late R/N and here's to the new R/N, may they live forever." The embroidery read.
Ghost, receiving archived photos of his family, tea bags and Kentucky Bourbon. He chuckles as he remembers sharing a drink with Laswell many years ago and how he found himself sharing his life with her and Price. He holds the bottle, staring at it and smiling, someone remembered him. Price laughs, two boxes of cigars, all from the brand he adores and hidden behind a mug that read, "Soccer lover." He groans a laugh and shows it to Gaz who laughs and shows him the cap that was given to him. "Don't dare," Price points a finger only to have Gaz laugh, "I'm not missing a chance to wear this and annoy you." Now, Price has a gift idea for Gaz's birthday.
A knock on the door and when opened, they find Santa herself, wearing a Christmas hat and her wife behind her. "Good morning, hope you are all hungry for some homemade meal?" She shows the large trays of food, made the night before and for this occasion only. Kate's children run around, playing with the young soldiers as Price helps the two ladies with the table. "You didn't have to, Kate." She shakes her head, "Nonsense, you five deserve this and take it as a thank you for what you and the team have done for me." Kate's wife passes by Price, "Trust me, just take the food and eat, she won't take no for an answer."
Kate sighs, "Just eat, trust me, Martha Stewart helped me make this meal." "The book did, honey," Kate's wife corrects her from the kitchen. "What she said." Price chuckles, "Might as well do that." Throughout the cabin, the children ran around, showing off what Santa had brought them the night before to the young soldiers. Gaz and Soap are stuck playing with Nerf guns and the occasional Barbie break. R/N ran around the dining table, chasing the youngest child of Laswell. "Never seen Ghost so…happy and excited," Price mentions as he observes Ghost have a tea party with plushies and the little girl of Laswell.
"I think this is the first time he likes someone else's tea," Price jokingly says and watches Ghost get a fake tiara on his head. The little girl giggles any time Ghost pretends the tea is too hot and he sighs in relief when her younger brother plays doctor and helps Ghost with the pain.
And now, it is safe to say that for the first time in their lives, they have a photograph that celebrates how for a moment, war stopped, smiling all genuinely portrayed and all in Christmas sweaters as the photo was taken. 'Christmas of '23, TF 141 and The Laswells' the photo has written on the bottom. At this moment, is commemorates a new tradition, Christmas dinners at that cabin, where life is peaceful.
To the team, Thank you for your help and support in operations I have given throughout the years. It is my understanding you all will share a cabin this Christmas and in classic fashion, I have sent gifts for you to open the morning of December twenty-fifth. Times haven't been the greatest to you all but I promise that for at least this very moment, you shall be granted time to care for the other. It is also my understanding that you all consider yourself a family, which is why, by the time you read this letter, you'll get a knock on the door by the very family that considers you all a part of their family. And for all that I love, watch your words amongst my kids, all of you.
May you have a merry little Christmas, Kate Laswell.
Tags:
@eicee @loviie-stuff @liyanahelena @cinnamon-cola @sadieesssss @kitschaosden @wrathofcats @johfaam0 @frazie99 @spicypicklesoh @vampsquerade @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @saoirse06 @ikohniik
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pinkhelados · 3 months
Text
Always You - Miguel O’Hara x Reader (Part one)
summary: You and Miguel have been friends since high school and throughout all of that, he’s loved you. Getting around to asking you out however? No.
contains: mutual pining, friends to lovers, mentions of insecurity on miguel’s part. NOT PROOFREADING
part one | part two
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You and Miguel went to high school together, graduated together, roomed together during university, and throughout all of that, Miguel had loved you, his best friend. He remembered when you walked into his chemistry class Junior year of high school… Through his thick-rimmed glasses, he admired the sway of your hair and the light glinting of the black plastic headband on top of your head. His body tensed when you sat next to him, offering a charming smile that would have him whipped his for the rest of his life.
The teacher’s voice faded into meaningless noise in the background and he found himself only focusing on you you. Brown eyes watched as you silently took down notes, sketching doodles on the edges of your notebook whenever you’d get bored, nose scrunching slightly whenever you made a mistake. He knew better then to stare but you were just so magnetic. You turned to look at him. Crap
Miguel darted his eyes to look at his paper only to find his page void of any writing.
He’d been so enraptured by you that he forgot to copy down notes.
Flustered, his eyebrows furrowed but quickly shot up when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He glanced up at you expecting you to tear into him for his ogling but then he noticed you had slid your notebook next to his. He blinked but picked up his pencil and begin to copy down what was on your paper. “Thanks…” He mumbled, turning away to conceal the red on his tanned complexion.
Ever since that day, you were talking to him and he was delighted to listen. It started with you teasing him for ‘spacing off’ during class and then turned to conversations about music shared interests. The semester progressed he begun to hang out with you after school, silly conversations turning deep and personal. For the first time he felt like head a real friend, not just some random he talked to during robotics season. Thick and thin, you were there for him and when it was his turn to comfort you, he did in a heartbeat.
Senior year prom night, that stupid guy you’d been seeing ditched you last minute. You were sat on the edge of his bed sniffling into his shoulder. “Hey it’s okay, you’ll be fine,” He cooed into your ear, rubbing your back soothingly. If he weren’t so mousy, he would’ve kicked his ass. “God what was I thinking?! You told me he was a douche- Xina told me he was a douche- whyd I even go through with it?” You sobbed into his shoulder. Miguel already hated the guy for snatching you up and him breaking your heart like this only served to enrage him further. “I don’t know- you’ve always been kind of stubborn.” He joked. You wiped your eyes and smiled weakly, playfully hitting his shoulder. “Shut up, I know.”
Miguel laughed and silently held you up against him, careful to not extend any boundaries. “I don’t even have a date anymore and I already got the dress…” You said with sad eyes. An idea popped into your head. “Mig-”
“No.”
“Why not! I know you hate parties but it’s senior prom-”
“You know I don’t do well in social settings, (Y/N)”
“It’d make me feel better..”
That was all it took for his resolve to diminish. Miguel grunted but secretly, his heart was soaring. “Fine. Let me find a dress-shirt or something.”
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He kept the picture in his wallet. Miguel would look at it whenever he needed a break from college work, you holding a peace sign over his head, blue lights making your dress glow and he just stood awkwardly doing his best to smile. As he walked to the campus library, he took out his wallet and just stared at the small Polaroid picture with a soft smile on his face. You’d changed and so had he.
Miguel opened the library door, sifting through the crowd of studying college students. A hand went up and discretely waved back and forth and Miguel walked towards it. “Hey,” you smiled. Miguel smiled back and set his bag down. “Hi.”
Miguel had grown taller since high-school- like- suspiciously tall. He went from being the small, nerdy guy to this 6’9 tank of a man in the span of three years. Freshman year of college, he didn’t look like this. Though- you liked it. Really liked it.
His arms were big- the crewneck just barely concealing the muscle of his arms and the broadness of his back. You’d been crushing on him since second year of college. It was odd- how quickly your view of him changed and this change brought on guilt. He was your best friend! You couldn’t feel that way about him though he certainly didn’t help. Friends would point out how nice to you he was, how easily he’d fold and howd he’d drop anything just to help you. All of that made your heart beat and yetYou never thought anything of it. You’d do the same. It was just something between friends, no? Miguel’s brown locks slicked back and his glasses sat on the tip of his hooked nose as he stared at you with those soft eyes of his. “Ready?”
Your cheeks flared when he reached over to touch your shoulder. “Yeah- yeah,” you nodded.
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The sky faded into darkness when you finished studying with Miguel, it was chilly too as you walked through campus over to the dorm you shared. “Damn- it’s freezing,” you rubbed your hands together, breaths coming out in white clouds. Miguel laughed, casually taking your hands in his larger ones. His palms were like heaters- unusually warm. He leaned closer to you, the redness of his cheeks not going unnoticed. “Better?”
A blush came upon you face and you leaned on his shoulder. “Mhm, aren’t you cold?” Miguel just wore a sweater with a plaid scarf wrapped around his neck and a pair of gloves, gloves he always wore ever since last summer. He shook his head. “It doesn’t bother, we’re close to home either way so it’s not like we’ll be out for too long.” You nodded, mumbling a soft ‘true’ and kept walking with his masssive hands around yours.
Arriving home, you plopped onto the couch and leaned your head back. “I’m beat,” you mumbled, looking over at your best friend who was taking off his scarf.
God his back looked good from that angle- his waist too…
“Yeah- I’m gonna go to bed, actually,” Miguel yawned. You tilted your head. “Already? It’s only nine?” You said as he walked over to his room. “Gotta get my beauty sleep- I’m a busy guy,” he said sarcastically though there was some truth to his words. Miguel was a genetics genius so his classes were difficult, not to mention all the internships he had at various scientific facilities. “I think you’re plenty beautiful, tiger,” you snickered, he laughed too. “Gracias, mami.”
You turned back to the tv when you heard the soft click of his lock. Bored, you switched on the tv. It was all news about this masked vigilante- Spider-Man they called him. You’d been hearing about him a lot recently for the past four weeks. “Huh,” you said, and continued watching.
-
Miguel had changed into his suit soon after he left you to his own devices. The night hadn’t been too eventful, he prevented a couple robberies which he’d tracked with the help of Lyla- his AI.
“So-“ A yellow light emerged from Miguel’s wrist, illuminating his masked face. “You ever gonna tell your girlfriend about…” She waved her arms around. “This?” Miguel scoffed and looked away, thankful for the mask hiding his cheeks. “No- and she’s not my girlfriend.” Lyla laughed, her avatar flickering to her now lying on her stomach with her palms resting on her cheeks. “You can’t hide this from me, big guy. I monitor your heart rate and it always spikes up whenever you’re around her. Coincidence? I think the shock not!”
Miguel swatted the hologram which only flickered in response. The AI hummed in amusement, swinging her leg in deep thought. Miguel’s fangs barred underneath his mask but sheathed soon after. “That doesn’t mean anything,” He mumbled. Lyla rolled her eyes. “Well according to my tracking software- I’ve also picked up rises in temperature, clammy hands-!”
“Okay!” Miguel grunted. “Shock- I get it.” Lyla smiled triumphantly, flickering over to the top of his head where he gave it a little pat. “Lucky you, I have several algorithms that should be foolproof in asking her out!” That made Miguel laugh. His ai didn’t comprehend his deep insecurity and for some odd reason that was a little heartwarming to him. “Don’t overestimate me, Lyla. (Y/N), she’s- she’s way out of my league. I don’t wanna risk years of friendship because I can’t control my own feelings.” He sighed.
The hologram frowned. “Hey don’t say that,” Lyla hugged his head but all Miguel felt was the warm heat from the light and the pain in his chest. He took out his wallet and gazed into the senior prom night picture. “Shock, I looked like such a dork,” He laughed. You were still so beautiful, hell- you were even more beautiful now. Miguel swallowed, hope blooming in his chest. “What’re those foolproof plans of yours anyways?”
Lyla’s eyes lit up and she scoured her files. “Oh I am so glad you asked.”
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little-spicy · 1 year
Text
Hold Me
Adam Warlock x Reader
Summary: On a Guardian mission, Adam is hit with a foreign substance called Sunmite. As they realize that Adam is indeed infected, Y/N learns that he's fully gone primal.
WARNING: MDNI!!! 🔞 SMUT!!! Dubcon (it's Sex Pollen), dom/sub, chasing kink, praise, etc.
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IT WAS A NORMAL DAY ON NOWHERE, ever since the battle with the High Evolutionary the place became peaceful again and the new home thrived since Nebula had taken charge.
The children were laughing, Nebula was stressed and doing a million things, and Drax was his usual self, playing with the children.
Y/N was with Drax as they taught the kids how to play with the hula hoops. Peter had brought some items from Earth and had given it to children and to say they were having a blast was an understatement.
As they enjoyed the time with the children was when they received the call from Rocket saying that Adam was in an accident.
Y/N's heart dropped as she looked at Drax with fear. Y/N had helped Adam when he decided to change, that he decided to be part of the Guardians and be better than his mother. He was created to be an all perfect being but Y/N saw him for what he truly was.
He was a scared child, someone who was born to a world that he was barely ready for. She was the youngest guardian on the team; rescued by Peter and the Ravengers when she was a small child and raised as one of them. She was barely a teenager as she became a guardian, but nonetheless a strong one.
She was young like him so she understood him, she understood his innocent looks, his kindness, and his eager to learn.
She stayed up with him, let him listen to music, let him read, and just to be there with him. Those nights turned into days, and suddenly both of them began to grow feelings for one another.
It was no secret that they would fall for each other but it still was just as sweet when they finally held hands and shared a kiss from time to time.
But as she heard that he had been hurt, she was scared. Everything that she had ever faced was no where as scary as hearing that Adam was hurt.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Y/N ran as fast as she could to their lab, she was given location to where they were but that didn't ease her uneasiness in her stomach.
When she entered the lab, she could see that there was a protective shield. She saw as Adam was on a table, wheezing and groaning in pain.
"What happened?" Y/N asked Rocket as she looked at him with pain.
Rocket had a vial of a bright orange substance, he held it up for Y/N to look and she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
"What am I looking at?" She asked him.
"One of those Zelnights hit him with a dart of some kind." Rocket said. "We thought it didn't affect him since he didn't show any signs but that changed when we were coming back."
"He started going crazy and we had Cosmo here hold him down." Kraglin said and Cosmo barked.
"He is not a good boy." Cosmo said and Y/N watched as Adam groaned once more and hissed in pain.
"Why is he locked in there, help him!" Y/N said as she tried to open it but Kraglin stopped her.
"We couldn't risk contamination, we're still running lab results." Kraglin said. "Even when we did, he started burning up and began to fight us. He kept asking for you, we wouldn't even had told you if he hadn't kept begging us."
"Y/N." Adam said weakly, his head turned to see her through the shield.
"Adam, sweetie." Y/N said and touched the shield.
"Y/N." Adam said more fiercely, his eyes glowed and got up abruptly. He tried to go through the shield only to be thrown back. He yelled and came forward again and caused Y/N to move back and tried to hold back tears.
"Nebula, we're gonna need something to calm him down." Rocket said through the comm link. He looked up to Y/N. "We need to get you out of here."
"I won't leave him!" Y/N said as she tried to come forward but once again Kraglin stopped her.
"We can't risk him hurting you, we don't know what'll happen." Kraglin said and Y/N watched as Adam, tried to hit the shield but once again he was thrown back and he groaned in pain once again.
"Comet, hold him." Rocket told Comet, comet nodded and began to use their telekinesis to hold Adam.
"We'll find out answers soon, but for now you need to get out of here." Rocket said. "He'll be fine, I promise."
Y/N looked down at Adam and crouched down to see him.
"Adam, sweetie I'll be back." She said and Adam's eyes still followed bright.
"Please, love, I need you." He said with pain. Y/N tried not to cry.
"I want to, but I can't sweetie." Y/N said. "They need to test that stuff and until they know what it is I can't get in there."
"Please!" Adam begged and Y/N was then being led away by Kraglin. "Y/N!"
Y/N put her hands over her ears and tried not to cry as she heard his pleads.
"Go back to you place, keep your comm link on you and we'll keep you updated." Kraglin said and Y/N nodded sadly.
"Okay, please take care of him." She said and Kraglin nodded.
"Of course." He said and Y/N walked away, heading farther away and hoping to erase the sound of his screams.
She walked around the Knowhere, walking past the people and giving them the best smile she could.
Once she got into her home, she immediately went to the couch and laid down. She grabbed her device and from one of Peter's playlist she began to listen to music.
She turned off her lights and turned on her fairy lights and let the apartment be lit by dim lighting.
She decided to get out of her regular day clothes and get into her comfy clothes and let herself forget for a moment the gnawing feeling of her boyfriend being in pain.
She didn't realize as the music played she started to get drowsy and before she knew it, she fell asleep.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Y/N felt her eyes open abruptly as she heard the blaring sound of her comm link.
"Y/N! Y/N come in!" She heard Nebula shout and Y/N tried to gain balance as she rushed toward her comm link.
She nearly fell but grabbed her comm link and answered.
"Hey! It's Y/N, what's wrong?" She asked frantically.
"Everything, Adam broke loose." Nebula said and Y/N's heart stopped.
"Where is he?" She asked and Nebula was about to answer until Rocket answered.
"To you!" He said. "Listen, we found out what that stuff is, it's called Sunmite; it's a lethal injection that's suppose to drive a person insane with heat."
"Is there a cure?" Y/N asked frantically. "What was it used for?"
"It's a mite used to stun the victim, but I think this guy had a plan." Rocket said. "The guy who hit Adam I guess was one of High Evolutionary's goons, I guess they had an order for him to- to."
"To what!" Y/N asked.
"To copulate, have kids." Nebula said begrudgingly. "They want the perfect man to reproduce."
"Oh my god." Y/N said and she felt her nerves sky rocket. "Do you mean?"
"He's super horny yeah." Nebula said and Rocket laughed.
"I can't believe you just said that." Rocket said and Y/N and Nebula huffed.
"Where is he now?" Y/N asked.
"He's on his way to-" Nebula was cut off by the sound of Adam nearly breaking the door.
"Y/N." He breathlessly said and Y/N put her hands in front of her to shield her but Adam engulfed her into a hug and leaned down and kissed her.
"Adam don't hurt-" Nebula was silenced once Adam crushed Y/N's comm link.
"Adam." Y/N said breathlessly as she pulled away and once she did, she saw his eyes still glowing and his eyes filled with lust. "Adam, you're not well."
"I'm fine now." Adam said and kissed her feverishly. "I need you."
Adam then tore her shirt and Y/N moaned as she felt his kisses on her neck. She gripped his hair and heard him grunt
"Adam, we can't- you aren't in-" Y/N tried to fight it but then Adam kissed her once more and she melted into the kiss and cupped his cheeks.
"I need you, I want you." He said and began to kiss her neck and got on his knees and began to kiss her stomach and hips.
She let out shaky moan as she gripped his hair. He was about to rip her pants but she stepped back.
"Y/N." He looked up at her with his glowing eyes and when he saw the fear in her eyes, his eyes dimmed for a moment. "What's wrong?"
"I- I've never done anything like this-" Y/N helped him up and could tell he was fighting the toxin. "I don't want you to do this cause you're forced to."
Adam kissed her softly, trying to be delicate as his fingers shook. She watched as his eyes were hazel orbs were back and he held her.
"I've wanted to for a long time, I just didn't want to force you." He told her. "I-"
He groaned as he felt the toxins kicking in and Y/N felt his grip on her tighten. He fell onto his knees and Y/N saw his eyes turn bright orange again and he kissed her inner thigh, making her shudder.
"I want you more than I've ever wanted, my love." He said and ripped her pants. "Tell me you don't want this."
She felt him kiss her clothed pussy and she gripped his hair and felt herself get wetter by the second.
"I-I-" she stuttered, she felt her body betray her as she felt electricity flow. "Yes."
"Yes- what?" He asked, tauntingly.
"Yes, I want you." She said and that's all the confirmation he needs and ripped her underwear.
He began to lick and kiss her clit and she felt her knees buckle. He grabbed her hips to keep her steady and with a final kiss on her clit, he got up and picked her up bridal style.
She looked at him and kissed him deeply, she giggled into the kiss as she felt his hands roam her ass.
He threw her on the bed and she looked up at him with lust. His face was the same way as his eyes glowed, she could see the erection in his suit and she bit her lip in anticipation.
"You like what you see, love?" He asked and she felt her cheeks blush as she never heard him like that.
"I do." She said and decided to tease and take off her shirt to reveal her breasts. Her nipples were hardened by the cool air and being aroused.
Adam licked his lips and began to discard his clothes quickly and got into the bed with her.
He kissed her quickly and then began to kiss further down to her chest and suck and bite on one of her breasts.
"Fuck!" She hissed and gripped his hair tight and felt herself get wetter.
She suddenly jolted as she felt his fingers move around her folds. She watched as he brought her juices to his lips and moaned at the taste.
"You taste heavenly." He said and kissed down her stomach to the top of her pubic bone. They both looked at each other until Adam dove into her pussy.
She felt her soul leave her body as she felt his feast on her like she was the last food in the universe. She gripped his hair and squirmed as he sucked and licked her clit.
She made noises that fueled Adam's drive, as she was about to cum, he let go off her clit with a pop and got right above her.
"I love you." He said and she looked at him and cupped his cheeks, she kissed him softly.
"I love you too." She said and in an instant, Adam lined his cock up to her entrance and slowly entered.
She winced at his size and felt her walls stretch for the first time. She put her head on his chest and she winced, Adam stopped once in a while to kiss and hold her but the drugs were fighting his mind as the feeling of her velvety walls hugged his cock.
She felt him completely in and she had never felt so full ever, she felt content and the world stood still as she felt her walls squeeze Adam's dick.
"You can move now." She told Adam.
Adam's mind blacked out as he began to rock into her, his hips snapping as he plunged into her further.
She felt tears weld up in her eyes as she felt the pain continue, she felt her virgin walls break.
She slowly began to feel the pleasure as Adam used his fingers to rub her clit.
"Yes." She moaned as she felt Adam kiss her neck. She giggled and felt goosebumps on her legs as he began to leave marks.
"Tell me you're mine." Adam said and Y/N felt her mind melt until Adam went a little bit deeper causing Y/N to yelp. "Tell me."
"I'm yours!" She moaned and felt herself feel the familiar waves of euphoria. "God, I'm all yours. All yours."
Adam growled and Y/N watched as Adam put her legs over his head and began to drill into her hard and caused her to scream louder.
"You're such a good girl for me, you were made for me." He said and rubbed her clit faster. Her chest heaved up and down and Adam could tell she was close. "Cum for me, I want to feel you."
She shuddered and came with a scream. Her legs began to shake and that was all Adam needed to cum in her.
He moaned and jolted as his cum went deep into her. He felt the goosebumps rise on his skin and felt his dick soften afterwards.
He almost fell on top of Y/N but stopped himself and decided to flip them over and have her be on top of him.
Y/N looked at Adam and his eyes had turned back to normal.
"Adam." Y/N said. "Are you okay?"
"Y-yeah, that was-" he sighed and smiled, kiss her cheek. "Amazing."
"It was." She said and placed her head on his chest and heard his heart beating. "Can't believe you got drugged."
"If getting drugged means being hopelessly in love with you it worth it." Adam told her. "I've wanted to do this for a while."
"Me too, glad it only took you to be drugged in order to do that." She laughed and got off top of him and laid on his right side. "Plus I think you might have a round two."
"You think?" He asked and she nodded.
"That stuff is pretty strong- and we do have the whole night." She said and Adam grabbed hold of her and kissed her chest.
"Well then." Adam's eyes turned bright again. "Guess I have the whole night."
She felt bliss once again as she was embracing her boyfriend. Who knew that having a cosmic entity could be so thrilling.
Hope you liked this! If you want to give me prompts or suggestions for another preference or one shot let me know! I do Marvel, Star Wars, Doctor Who, and Harry Potter! ✨✨
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acourtofmarvels · 5 months
Text
Comfort - Cassian Pt.2
Part 1
Warnings: none. cuteness overload :D
*35 years later*
"Cassian can you please take your feet off the table? We eat there." I smacked his leg and took a seat beside him to eat lunch.
He groaned and obeyed, putting his feet on the ground. "Gimme a bite." He pointed to the sandwich I had just made. I haven't even taken a bite of it yet.
"You just ate like, 3 minutes ago." I took a bite of my sandwich, glaring at him. I swear he is always hungry.
"Yours looks better than mine," he whined like a child.
I looked over at Azriel who was sitting across from us. He'd already finished his lunch and was reading a book at the table.
"Azriel did you not give the dog a treat after lunch?" Azriel lifted his eyes from his book, humor in them.
"That was rude," Cassian replied.
"Let the girl eat her lunch in peace," Azriel defended me, going back to his book.
I stuck my tongue out at Cassian and then took another bite of my sandwich. He was glaring at me but I could see the mischief behind his glare. I'm in trouble.
"Ask the house to-" I stopped my sentence. The air grew cold and eerie. Still, everything went so very still.
Azriel and Cassian felt it too, sitting up straight in their chairs. Something was different. We could all feel it.
There was a thud from the balcony. As if something jumped onto it, or someone landed on it.
Azriel and Cassian stood up simultaneously, grabbing their weapons. Their siphons glowing as they listened around.
Who the hell just landed at the House of Wind? No one can get up here unless they have wings. The Illyrians wouldn't dare to step foot up here. It can't be Mor, she's suppose to be in the Hewn City all day.
Azriel's shadows swirled around him, informing him of whatever just entered our house. My heart plummeted as I saw the color drain from Azriel's face.
"What's wrong? Who's here?" I shot to my feet. I was almost tempted to grab one of the daggers at Cassian's hip. If Azriel was scared then-
"I was expecting some open arms, not swords and daggers."
I don't think I ever turned around so quickly in my life.
Rhysand. Rhys. My brother. He's home. He's here, he's alive.
My knees buckled and I would have fallen to the ground if Cassian had not caught me.
My hand covered my mouth, silencing the sob that escaped me, tears poured out my eyes.
I beat Cassian and Azriel to him first, wrapping my arms around his neck so tightly. I held on for life, afraid this was a dream and the second I let go he would be gone. But I could feel him, smell him. He's here, home.
His arms stay wrapped around me as I placed my hands on his face, looking him over.
"Are you hurt?" I didn't dare ask if he was okay. How could he ever be okay from what ever torture she put him through?
"I'm alright," he replied. No signs of injury or bruises. But he was so very pale. Years away from sunlight would do that to you.
"I can't believe you are here." I wiped the tears from his cheeks, he did the same to me.
I wrapped my arms around him once more, kissing the top of his head a few times.
I didn't want to let him go but I know Azriel and Cassian would want their time with him.
The second I stepped from his embrace Cassian replaced me, literally picking Rhys off the floor and spinning him around.
"If you do not put me down I cannot promise that I will not puke on you," Rhys's laugh sent warmth through my body. I never thought I'd hear that again.
It didn't feel real. The days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and the fact that Rhys was here still felt like a dream.
Amarantha was dead. Feyre saved us all, Rhys's mate. Rhys's mate... He has a mate. Who's marrying someone else. He showed us her. Showed us all she did. His face lit up telling us the story about her killing the wyrm.
It's been 3 months and I am savoring every last bit of it.
***
"You're different, sister." Rhys stared at me from across the room. He sat at his desk as I lounged in the chair in his bedroom. We did this often. This was where we always had our deep talks or hashed things out if we were upset. He would do work at his desk and I would occupy my time in the chair by reading or writing. 
"I'm happy. You're finally home." I looked up from the hat I was knitting, another thing I picked up in the 50 years he was gone. 
The smile faded off his face as he looked down at his hands. "Mor told me..."
"Whatever she told you, is in the past. Everything is good, now you're home. I'm good, I promise." Though I looked away from him I could feel the guilt in him from across the room. "Enough with the sadness, please."
"Fine, you don't want to talk about it. I'll respect that. Is there anything you do want to talk about?" His voice was hinting. There's no way he knows. We haven't.... well not since he got back. That was my decision. 
"Like what?" I didn't dare look up at him.
"Hey, you guys down for Rita's tonight?" Gods his timing was the worse. Of course Cassian had to come in and interrupt now.
Rhys and I made eye contact. He had a stupid smirk on his face. He knew... How did he know?
"Cass, please join us. We were actually just about to have a chat." Rhys pointed to his bed for Cassian to take a seat. 
Cassian went to take a seat, completely oblivious to the situation. "No, leave." He froze in his spot, looking at Rhys and me confused.
"Cassian, take a seat. As your High Lord, I order you." I could smack that stupid smug smile off his face.
"You can't do that." I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. Pulling this High Lord card... I should smack him up side the head.
"Can and just did, sit."
Cassian took and seat and glanced between at Rhysand and I, who were having a stare off. 
"Cassian..." Rhys began, now looking at him. Cassian was trying to play it cool but I noticed the sweat beginning to form on his forehead. My heart was racing a hundred miles an hour, no doubt my brother could hear it too. "Are you sleeping with my sister?"
"Oh my gods, really Rhys?" I shot up from my seat. I felt the lie on my tongue, "Cassian and I are not-"
"We're together, yes. We have been for a while now. We take care of each other, watch out for one another. You can be mad at me, beat the shit out of me but I don't give a fuck." Cassian stood back up, no longer looking at Rhys but now me. "400 years I have loved her. 35 years I have been utterly, hopelessly in love with her."
Silence all around. I was shocked he admitted that right away. I mean we were caught, it was gonna be hard to lie to him. Cassian was standing up for us and here I was gawking like a complete idiot.
"Cassian and I are mates," I admitted to my brother nervously, but proudly. "I am madly in love with him. We wish to be mated and married but only with your permission."
That smirk had faded from my brothers face the minute Cassian spoke. His face was blank of emotion and he was silent for a while.
"This is not what I was expecting." He spoke. He crossed his arms over his chest. He looked mad but he was silent again for a while. "Fine. You have my blessing. But I'm still kicking your ass for hitting on my sister." He stood up a punched Cassian in the shoulder and then came and wrapped his arms around me which automatically relaxed me.
He placed his hands on either sides of my face, forcing me to stare into his eyes. The eyes we shared from our father. 
Are you sure? He spoke to me in my mind. My shields were down for him the second he wrapped his arms around me.
I nodded and replied to only him, I've never experienced this type of happiness before.
His face softened as a single tear rolled down my face, and he wiped it away. He was always the one to wipe away my tears. He placed a kiss on my forehead and pulled away.
"Just don't show it around me," he shivered and I rolled my eyes.
"Rhys I'd like to request some time off work," Cassian said with a smirk, looking me up and down.
"I hate this already. Get out of my face." He waved us off.
Cassian held his hand out to me which I gladly took as we ran out of Rhys's room. The second we were out of earshot, to spare Rhys, Cassian's hands and lips were all over me.
"I'm never waiting that long ever again. It was pure torture not to kiss you, to hold you, to touch you," Cassian growled in my ear. 
"I know, I'm sorry." I brought his lips back to mine. "Never again."
"Are we doing this?" He whispered, out of breath.
"Meet me at the cabin in an hour." I stepped out of reach from him, a big smile on my face.
"An hour?" He groaned. 
"One hour and then... you'll have me for eternity." I stepped forward and kissed his lips once more, in a slow and achingly long kiss. "I love you. One hour." Then I winnowed away. 
A/N cute little ending :) hope you guys liked it!
Masterlist
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izfims · 9 months
Text
sugarcoat — chapter fourteen
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I’M SORRY!
“we’re just going to get a few more clips of you guys together along the river, then you can have your alone time,” the producer says, “i bet you’ve been waiting for this all day as a fan.”
“i’m not a fa—“ you’re interrupted when you feel a pinch to your arm. you let out a small wince that’s masked by karina’s laugh.
“i’ve also been waiting for this!” karina says, none of the staff detecting her facade but yourself, “come on yn-ssi, let’s go.”
around thirty minutes later of the two of you walking along the river mindlessly, giving each other somewhat fake smiles and pats on the shoulder, the producer finally lets the two of you off the hook. your mic packs are taken off of you and you see karina’s manager give her a look before the rest of the staff go off to a nearby pocha.
then there was the awkward silence.
after spending the entire day together, this was the only time you guys were alone with each other. you follow karina further down the river until you reach a remote area, the two of you coming to an unspoken consensus of sitting on the grass.
you watch as a variety people pass you by as they enjoy the view of the river at night. it was peaceful, serene. you look to your left and see many couples on their picnic mats, laying together with lovesick smiles on their faces.
you can sense karina beside you, fidgeting with her hands. you know she wants to say something. “so,” you start, breaking the silence, “what do you like about being an idol?”
“why don’t you like me?”
she completely disregards your question, and you see her frown as she makes eye contact with you. you’re caught off guard by her sudden confrontation, and all you can do is blink at her. when you don’t answer, she continues to talk.
“i usually don’t care if someone likes me or not, so i don’t know what it is about you that is making me try so hard,” she rambles, running a hand through her hair frustratingly.
you sigh, “it’s not on you, karina-ssi.”
“like you won’t even be casual with me!”
you can see tears threatening to spill from her eyes as you watch her carefully. when she notices your gaze on her, she looks away, blinking away the tears ferociously. “it’s just the wind,” she claims, using her sleeve to wipe away any tears that managed to fall.
“there’s no wind tonight, jimin,” you put a slight emphasis on the last word, and her eyes widen in surprise when you’re finally casual with her.
“you know my real name?” she asks.
you nod, pulling your lips into a thin line as you avert your attention over to the river. there were a few boats drifting by, and the skyline was prettier than usual. “i asked my little sister to give me a rundown on you before i came today,” you admit, “she’s a really big fan.”
“yeah, i know,” she lets out a small cough to ease the awkwardness beginning to fill the air, “you’re only here because she signed you up.”
you look at her confusedly once more, “wait, how do you know that?”
“my friend might’ve stalked your account,” she avoids making eye contact with you as you let out your first laugh of the entire day. she can feel herself biting back a smile as she glanced over at you throwing your head back with a grin. it sounded like music to her ears.
“are you sure it wasn’t you that stalked me?”
“i only scrolled down a couple of tweets,” she says, throwing her hands up in surrender, “but stop changing the topic.. why don’t you like me?”
you shrug, settling your hands on your knees, “i don’t know.”
an incredulous expression stretches across her face, “what do you mean ‘you don’t know?’”
“i’m just not a fan of idols, or of anyone in general,” you say nonchalantly, “also you punched someone and that kind of rubbed me the wrong way.”
jimin lets out an exasperated groan, “can you stop mentioning that? you don’t think i know i punched someone? i have the entire media reminding me everyday and i don’t need another person to do so.”
“sorry but that wasn’t the greatest first impression i have of you.”
“yeah, i didn’t have the greatest first impression of you either.”
the two of you are engulfed in another wave of silence as you sit there. the tension was so high that not even a knife could cut through it.
“i only punched him because he basically told me the media only loved me for of my body and that my parents should be disappointed,” she utters quietly, and you feel rush of guilt course through you.
there it was.
the moment your friends knew was coming.
“i’m sorry,” you answer, but she doesn’t even acknowledge your apology. (—and wow, you really wanted to beat yourself up after this one. )
when she doesn’t reply, you sigh as you continue, “i’m sorry for judging you based on one thing, and i’m sorry for making today such a drag for you when you were just trying to do your job.”
you start to feel uncomfortable as you clasp your hands together, seeing the girl deep in thought beside you — you always hated talking about feelings, whether it was concerning yours or someone else’s.
“i know it doesn’t seem like it, but i had fun today. you’re not who i thought you were,” you push yourself to say — you don’t know what possessed you to do so, but you just hated seeing jimin so… given up, “everyone loves you because you’re an amazing person, and i’m glad i was able to experience your personality firsthand.”
“you’re only saying all of this because you feel bad,” she scoffs.
“yeah, i am,” you straightforwardly say, causing her to be off guard for a second, “but i’m also saying it because i mean it. this is me pushing my pride to the side to admit that you’re not a bad person.”
she scans your face, making sure that you weren’t lying about your words. when she sees the soft crease of your brows and the way you’re nervously biting your lip waiting for her reply, her stoic facade falls.
and she does the one thing you weren’t expecting.
she reaches over and hugs you tightly, nudging her head into the crook of your neck and it fits perfectly almost like a puzzle piece. you’re frozen for a second as your hands hesitate as to where you should place them, your cheeks flushing with a bright red. but when you realize that the idol wasn’t going to move any time soon, you place your hands on her back gently, finally letting yourself enjoy her presence.
“get the camera!” you hear the producer say behind you hurriedly as the staff move around in a panicked manner, “get the damn camera!”
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a/n IT HAPPENED IT FINALLY HAPPENED
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TAGLIST
@yoontoonwhs @imahallucination11 @slayc9 @nasyu-kookies @leyleypad @mightymyo @runawaymazola @jimanie @awkwardtoafault @limbforalimb @channiesprincess @neuftaeng @i06kkura @lesleepyyy @sewiouslyz @irishbarcafan @winieter @pandafuriosa60 @jiwoneiric @yumtooki @kimsgayness @justme-idle @tocupid @chaerybae
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