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#sorry if none of this makes sense i just love how i can play with her gender however much i want
ghostboyhood · 1 month
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please i love how many hcs some characters can have that are all true
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that?? yeah shes trans her name is joyce or charlee depending on what you think,, oh but also they just dont have a gender?? wait hes ALSO transmasc?? what do you mean hes a man but not in a cis way but in a 'dude' 'bro' 'my man' guy way?? sorry but THEYRE ALL RIGHT!!! shes literally everything and nothing and its all right
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darabeatha · 5 months
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Where do I sign for dynamics where your muse has a crush on mine and/or my muses developing these silly crushes o r obsessions towards other characters-
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chainreh · 2 years
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me earlier: hm tonight i will sleep at a regular time
me now: actually stays up to 5am listening to the sims 3 event music (like a boss)
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cupid-styles · 3 months
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Oh fuck tattoorry piercing his girl’s nipples would be so hot specially with how much she loves humiliation that entire interaction would be so sexually charged
this took me FOREVER but I hope you enjoy!!!!
part of the tattoorry/plugrry world
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word count: 3k
content warnings: piercings (mentions of needles), spicy but no smut
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
"Wait, you're being serious?"
Harry huffs out a laugh, sticking his chopsticks in the to-go container of veggie lo mein. "Of course I'm being serious. Why would I lie about that, dovie?"
His response, though not meant to make her feel bad, makes her shrug, a warm blush blooming over the expanse of her cheeks. She stuffs another bite of dumpling in her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully to save her from further embarrassment in front of her boyfriend. 
"Don't feel bad," he murmurs, his large palm finding the space between her shoulders, rubbing her sweatshirt-clad skin comfortingly. Her eyes stay glued to the television in front of them, where they're watching the newest episode of Ru-Paul's Drag Race per Y/N's request. (She's never watched it before and Jo, the receptionist at St. Mark's Social, told her she had to. Y/N's been steadily binging it for weeks. Harry pretends like he doesn't love it, but he's secretly just as invested.)
"Dove, look at me," he sighs, placing his food on the coffee table. She does, positioning herself to face him and flittering her eyes up to his face. He looks tired, but they both are. It's been a long week of work and school — however, Y/N was able to get an interview for the bookstore on campus, which ended up causing her a lot of stress and anxiety. It ultimately went well and they said they'd be getting back to her soon. Even if it wasn't the bookstore she wanted to work at, it was still a source of income that would hopefully replenish some of her savings and help her pay rent and bills. 
"I shouldn't have laughed, I'm sorry I did that," he says softly, "It's just a given to me, because of my work. Nipple piercings aren't otherworldly, like they probably are for you."
She shouldn't be nitpicking, but somehow that hurts just as badly. Sometimes, she feels like a child around Harry. It's as if he's lived a thousand lives in the adult world and she's just recently gotten to have a smidgen of those experiences. 
"It's not otherworldly," she says the word like it's an insult, and Harry has to press his lips into a line so he doesn't laugh, "I just didn't know people got them."
Clearing his throat, he forces himself to put on his professional piercer-and-tattooer face, "Yeah. It's something that anyone can get and I've done a fair amount of them. Semi-painful in the moment with a long healing time. They can look good on the right person, though."
That causes her eyebrows to nearly shoot up to her forehead. 
"What do you mean, the right person?"
"You're just a nosy little thing tonight, aren't you?" Harry fires back with a smirk. She goes to cower with deflated shoulders but he instantly makes a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, grabbing her hands to keep her close, "I just mean, like any piercing, it doesn't always look right on the person. Sometimes people get nose or eyebrow piercings and it's like, oh, that's fine. But sometimes it's as if their anatomy looks complete with the piercing — almost like it's meant to be there, if that makes sense."
It doesn't, but it only continues to pique her curiosity even more. 
"What about me?" 
"What about you?" Harry chuckles, using a hand to smooth her hair down. 
"What piercings would look good on me?"
He smirks at her little game. She plays this sometimes, and he assumes it only comes from a place of true wonder. When they talked about the drugs he's done before, she asked which ones he think she'd like. (None, except maybe for weed, but she has to get her anxiety under control before she tries it.) They went over different styles of tattoos when Y/N was interested in his work, especially when he explained that his are just a hodgepodge of designs, some with meaning, some without. (He said she can get whatever she wants if she decides on something one day, but he's particularly partial to a little "H" on her bum.) And now, she wants to know what piercings would fit her. 
"You can get whatever you'd like, dovie," he replies, "Just as long as I'm the one doing it."
She rolls her eyes and leans her shoulder against the plush of the couch cushion. "Yeah, but you're the professional, Harry! You know what would look best on me."
"Anything would, you're gorgeous."
"That's a cop-out answer and you know it!"
Harry laughs loudly and places his hands atop her shoulders, "Okay, okay. Let me think, dovie. I need to assess my client."
"Oh, you're being a professional now?"
"Shhhh!" he exclaims, and it only makes her laugh harder. He's already gone to that focused place, though, with wandering but fixated eyes and that small crinkle between his eyebrows. She feels bashful beneath his gaze, blinking her eyes as he analyzes her facial features. She's watched him work before, but for some reason, this in particular reminds her of the first time they met, when she sat in on him tattooing Mai. She remembers the way her stomach warmed and her core throbbed at his attuned facial expression, similar to how it is now.
"Okay," he murmurs. Slowly, he reaches up to gently tap at the side of her nose. "I think you'd look very pretty with a small nose piercing."
"Really?"
He nods. "Yes, but you're beautiful with or without, so it doesn't matter. Plus, I can't have my girlfriend looking cooler than me."
She's not surprised at the way he instantly returns to his teasing self, even if it's not exactly the answer she was fishing for. She watches as he leans forward to grab his carton of noodles. With her tongue peeking out to moisten her lips, she attempts to grab his attention again.
"What about...?" she glances down at her chest. Harry looks at her with a quirked eyebrow. Her form is currently swallowed up in a sweatshirt that's a few sizes too large, so she realizes she's not being entirely specific about what she's asking. "Like...?"
"Huh?"
She sighs frustratedly, "My boobs!"
"Oh," Harry's eyes widen, flickering down to her covered breasts, "You wanna know if you'd look good with nipple piercings?"
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip. She watches at the cogs turn in his brain, his gaze meeting hers a moment later. 
"Need to see 'em." he says decidedly. 
She huffs out a chuckle as he helps her peel her sweatshirt off, leaving her in a comfortable bralette. It's pale pink and sheer, but with Harry's hands splayed across her ribs, he still pulls the fabric down. In an instant, her nipples are stiff and peaked from the cold air, and she's attempting not to feel sheepish underneath his intense eyes as they flicker between her breasts. 
"I don't know why I'm even contemplating it," he says, though it's mainly to himself, "Of course you'd look hot with them. You're you."
He looks up at her with a goofy grin before pressing a kiss between them. She blushes.
"You think so?" she asks as her hand finds the back of his neck. He nods, eyes flickering closed when her fingertips play with the shorter, curly tendrils. 
"Of course."
"Would you do it, then?"
Harry's eyes shoot open. "Wait, what? I thought we were just... talking, I didn't think you were being serious."
Y/N shrugs, "I dunno, I kind of like the idea of it."
"Dovie... you only have your ears pierced," he mumbles, sitting up and reaching to gently touch her ear lobes, "If this is something you'd seriously want, I'd want you to think about it for at least, maybe, a few days, not just 10 minutes."
"I've never done anything impulsive, though," Y/N says through a whine. He understands it, and his face crinkles some at her request. "You've gotten tattoos while you were drunk! O-or given stupid ones to yourself!"
"I know, baby," Harry coos, "But those were stupid decisions and I don't want you to make the same ones. You're so much better than that."
She sighs dejectedly. He presses a kiss to each of her cheeks, then to her nose. 
"I get it, dove, really. And by all means, I'd rather you get an impulsive piercing than a tattoo. But the healing time is really long, and it is painful. I just don't want you to regret it or... or get mad at me, either."
Y/N's heart softens a bit, nodding her head as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "No, I understand." 
"If you still want them in a few weeks or months, I'm more than happy to be the one to do it," he says softly, reaching down to give her hand a small squeeze. She perks up a little at that, and he smiles. "Just give it some more thought, okay?"
. . .
Harry really, truly thought Y/N would never mention the whole nipple piercing thing again.
It turns out, his girl is way more stubborn than he could have ever anticipated, because it's been four weeks since then and she still wants them. 
In fact, she's currently sitting in his little work zone, where he tattoos and pierces other clients. Not his girlfriend.
"Are you sure?" he asks for the thousandth time. In the time since she first brought it up, she's done tons of research, including asking Harry just short of a million questions. He appreciated her enthusiasm towards education, but talking about nipple piercings as soon as he finished up work wasn't always ideal. Still, though, he made sure to entertain anything she had to ask, even catching her looking up different jewelry styles and what it looked like on different people. 
And, as soon as Jo accidentally overheard Y/N talking to him about it, of course she offered to show her own. Harry wanted to bang his head into a wall as he listened to them excitedly chatter in the corner, right after one of his employees bared her entire chest to his girlfriend. It had to be some type of workplace violation, only Harry served as the closest thing to Human Resources at the shop — and, considering they sold weed on the side, he didn't think he had much of a case against Jo.
It just so happened that Y/N got out of classes early on Wednesday and Harry hung around the shop those days, making deals and doing boring business administration things. When she asked if she could come by to get her piercings done, he reluctantly said yes. 
It wasn't that he didn't absolutely love the idea of it — he did, actually, and his mouth nearly watered at the imagery it created in his brain. What he did hate was the thought of causing his girl any kind of pain. He was still in the camp of being fearful that she'd get angry at him if she didn't end up liking it. But her excitement towards it never wavered, and he would never be one to tell her no.
"Yes, I'm sure," Y/N replies, wringing her hands together in her lap. "I'm nervous, though."
"That's normal, dovie. Just try your best to relax, it's only me."
She nods as he shuts the door to give them some privacy. He never does that with clients, but he wants to make sure he's making it as comfortable as a process as possible — and, maybe he's keen on ensuring no one else gets a peek. 
He busies himself with sanitizing his tools, washing his hands, and eventually pulling a pair of latex gloves on. He wishes he could make it a more fun experience for her, but the whole thing is quite medical.
"You already picked your jewelry out, right?" he asks lowly. She nods her head as she watches on. 
"Mhm. I sent you a picture of it last week."
"Right, these simple pink barbels, hm?" 
The piercing jewelry she'd chosen were pretty spot on to Y/N's aesthetic of being uncomplicated and feminine. When he saw what she picked, he immediately told her that it would fit her perfectly. 
"Alright, I'm gonna clean them and then we can get started. Still feeling good?"
She nods again. 
"You gonna tell me if you're gonna pass out again, baby?"
She scowls, remembering back to fainting from her first ear piercing. The sour, twisted frown on her face makes him laugh. 
"That's still so embarrassing." she mumbles. On the newly cleaned workspace, Harry shakes his head, placing the sanitized jewelry and piercing supples down on it. 
"Not embarrassing. Cute, actually," he corrects, peeling his gloves off. "Okay. I'm gonna help position you, is that okay?"
"Do you do that for every client?"
He narrows his eyes at her playfully, "No, you jealous little fiend."
She pulls her sweater off, revealing a pale blue baby tee. He swallows as she lays back on the extended table, taking a deep breath to surely calm her nerves. He gently squeezes her wrist, hovering over her form as she gets comfortable. When she shoots him a small nod, he smiles, flipping her shirt up. 
"Okay, baby," he says, smoothing his hand over her stomach, "I'm sure you read this in your... insane amount of research—"
"Not insane."
He nods curtly, "Right, not insane," he quickly corrects. "Anyway, your nipples have to be hard for this. It helps with the placement."
She issues another silent nod his way but doesn't move to do anything. With a small smile, he gently cups her breast. 
"Do you want me to?" he asks, his tone dropping lowly. She's not quite sure what he's even asking to do, but she still provides an affirmative answer. It's not a second more before he's latched his lips around her nipple, her eyes fluttering back from the sucking sensation. It's messy, the way he alternates between each one so they're swollen with his spit, and her fingers find his long curls, tugging at them gently to press him closer to her chest. 
It feels like he's gone far too quickly, plushy, wet lips pressing a quick kiss to the valley between her breasts as he examines his work. Her mouth parts as she watches him bite his lip. 
"You're good," he pants out, though he takes a moment to adjust the growing bulge in his pants, "Need to... put gloves back on."
They're both a bit lust-driven now, but Harry's quick to meld back into his professional persona after snapping a clean pair of gloves on his hands. Y/N swallows as he analyzes her, feeling squeamish beneath his eyes. Wordlessly, he grabs a marker and places two dots on either of her nipples. 
"That's just for the placement," he explains, grabbing a mirror so she can look at where the jewelry would sit, "What do you think?"
Truthfully, they could have been completely wonky and Y/N wouldn't have noticed, let alone say anything. She trusts Harry implicitly, even if she still feels a bit hazy from the welcomed assault on her stiffened breasts.
"Good." she says with a nod, glancing up at him, "Looks good."
"Alright, baby," he replies. He turns to get the clean piercing needle from his rolling tray. "I'm gonna count down from three. I want you to close your eyes and inhale on three, then exhale on one. We'll take a short break after the first one, and then I'll do the second. Does that sound okay?"
"Mhm," she mumbles, nervously biting her lip. "Just do it, please. 'm gonna lose my nerve."
He chuckles and nods, instructing her to keep her eyes closed as he situates himself over her. 
"Okay. Three— there you go, dovie, big, deep breath— two, one."
She immediately winces from the sharp bite of pain, a noisy gasp falling from her lips. Harry silently cringes to himself — not because the piercing isn't perfect, but because he absolutely hates knowing he's the reason why she's in pain right now. 
"Keep your eyes closed, baby," he murmurs as he fits the jewelry through the first piercing, "Good girl. You're doing so good for me, hm? My strong baby."
She swallows harshly, hands balled into fists at her side. It's painful, that much is true, and she's beyond grateful when he finally finishes screwing the jewelry into place. She lets out a shaky breath and Harry coos, taking one of his gloves off to thumb her tears away. 
"Was that okay, dovie?" he asks worriedly, "We can always save the second for another day."
Y/N quickly shakes her head, "No, no. Just do the other one now, otherwise I'll never have you do it."
Harry repeats the process on the other side. The pain is just as bad, tears continuing to cloud Y/N's vision and roll down her cheeks despite her keeping her eyes squeezed close. He shushes her softly throughout it, his heart tugging. Once he's finished, he's quick to wash his hands, listening to her quiet sniffles. 
"I know baby, I know," he mumbles. He crosses the room as soon as he's done, sitting down next to her and brushing her hair back, "You did so good, you know that? 's all done, dovie, you're done."
She sniffs, batting her wet eyelashes up at him. "'s done?"
"Yeah, sweetheart." he says with a small, crooked smile. "You were so good. Took it like a champ."
"I didn't, I cried the whole time."
He chuckles and leans down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Do you wanna see them?"
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip as he stands to grab the handheld mirror. He helps her slowly sit up, hinging at the waist. He holds it up to her chest, both pairs of their eyes staring at her swollen breasts. His eyes flitter to her face to gauge her expression, scared that she hates them. 
"Wait," she mutters, cocking her head to the side, "Wait... they're kind of hot."
Relief floods Harry's system and he smirks. "You think so?" 
"Yeah," she nods, sitting up on her knees, "I know they're kinda puffy right now but... I think I like them. A lot."
Harry swallows harshly, dropping the mirror on his chair. Suddenly, he's surging towards her and taking her cheeks between his large palms, smushing their lips together like his life depends on it. It takes her entirely by surprise, and it's hurried and hot and desperate, so much so that she's panting into his mouth and gripping at his black tee-shirt. 
When he finally breaks their kiss, strings of spit still connecting their mouths, he keeps his forehead pressed against hers. Again, he glances down to get another look at her chest. 
"I love you so fucking much," are the only words he can utter out before he's pulling her jeans down to bury his head between her legs. 
1K notes · View notes
sflow-er · 10 months
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So many thoughts on the fabulous Barbie film, but especially on how anyone who thinks it’s “hateful towards men” clearly isn’t getting the message.
SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT
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[Credit for both gifs goes to their makers!!]
I mean... Ken’s arc is secondary to Barbie’s, and rightly so. This is her film, and her message deserves to be the main takeaway.
That being said, I just find it really sad that the people who could’ve definitely used the point of Ken’s arc just let it go right over their heads. Maybe it’s because they aren’t great at reading subtext, or because they just balk at anything presented as feminist, I don’t know.
Because to me, Ken’s arc is about as far from “hateful towards men” as you can get. It’s a multi-layered depiction of how restrictive, outdated views of masculinity can hold men back and make them susceptible to harmful ideologies that promise easy solutions for all their problems but only make those problems worse and hurt others around them.
The first layer is an allegory for real men don’t show their feelings. In the movie, this is represented by Ken’s need to look tough and cool all the time, and to keep his insecurities and sadness bottled up. Barbieland is a utopia where being happy is a social norm, and the main Barbie also starts to struggle with that. The difference is that she eventually tells her friends, and they all support her. Ken just puts pressure on himself not to look weak - in front of Barbie, or in front of the other Kens.
Which brings us to the second level: a competitive and inherently hostile view of the other Kens, aka. toxic male relationships. Some of them are friends, and all of them work together for a while to build the Patriarchy, but they don’t actually bond for real. Even their boys’ nights are mainly about getting back at the Barbies for all their girls’ nights (which really were about bonding). When push comes to shove, the Kens still see each other as competition, which is one of the reasons why the Barbies are able to play them against each other.
Another reason is the third layer: the idea that Ken only has value if Barbie loves and admires him. It starts out as unrequited love that makes you feel sorry for him...until he turns bitter. He basically starts on the path that could lead him down the incel/mra rabbit hole and into a mindset where Barbie owes him love and admiration and the relationship he wants in exchange for his devotion to her. He decides that everything would be better if Barbies were subservient to Kens, but of course that’s not true. None of the Barbies’ newfound admiration for their Kens is real, and his own Barbie still rejects him.
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All this is of course underpinned by the final layer, which is Ken’s lack of self-respect and sense of purpose. He’s got a pointless job, he’s not particularly qualified for anything, and he just feels kind of lost in Barbieland - a society run by successful Barbies who are living up to their full potential. That’s why he gets so caught up in the idea of the Patriarchy, which is supposed to make him successful, get others to respect him, and give him a sense of purpose. (This can be generalised to all kinds of harmful ideologies in the real world, e.g. the alt-right movement.)
However, the success he achieves is superficial and not based on any real passion; he even admits that he wasn’t happy in his new position and already lost interest in the ideology. The (forced) respect of others does feel good for a while, but it only goes so far. At heart, the whole thing is still mostly about his feelings of inferiority and unrequited love for Barbie, and instituting this harmful new system did not resolve those for him.
So what does? In essence, breaking out of all these harmful patterns and internalising the idea that he is enough.
He ends up reflecting on his feelings, finally puts them to words (or rather, song and dance), and manages to connect with the other Kens through those feelings. He even cries in relief and acknowledges that it doesn’t make him weak. He and Barbie finally have a proper talk, he lets go of their (non-)relationship, and he listens when she says he needs to figure out his real self. He starts to see himself not through his job, his girlfriend, or even his competition with the other Kens, but as just Ken, who is enough.
I honestly can’t think of a less hateful message to send men and boys.
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moonstruckme · 1 month
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heya!! i was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where r stopped smoking..? i’m 6 months clean from smoking nicotine and i haven’t told anyone (you’re the first!! lmao) just incase i break from a stressful day and so i don’t disappoint!! could you maybe write that into the drabble or whatever you do..? tysm if you do, and if you don’t then no worries!!
i love you mae and make sure to take care of yourself and keep being you!!!!
thanks for requesting gorgeous, i really hope you're doing well!! proud of you <3
cw: smoking, reader deals with addiction
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 936 words
Remus smells like cigarettes. He’s stopped smoking anywhere near you, but you’re sure if you look out the front door you’ll see the telltale smear of ash smashed into the sidewalk from where he’d stamped one out on the way in. The aroma brings longing and self-loathing, the former more potent than the latter, and you find yourself breathing in the fibers of his sweater for a whiff of it. 
Remus doesn’t catch onto the true motivation for your proximity. He takes it for cuddling, adjusting his hold on his book so he can read with one hand while the other wraps around your shoulders, encouraging you closer to his side. Underneath the heady smell of lingering smoke he smells like himself, like cinnamon and oranges, and you try to focus on that as your better sense fogs over and your fingers start itching for a cig. 
“Aha!” Sirius slaps his last card down on the table. 
James blows out a flabbergasted breath, leaning back on his hands on the floor. They’re playing some kids’ card game Remus learned in primary school and unwisely taught them. At first you’d all gotten into it, but after Sirius nearly took your head off for forgetting the rules and playing with two hands (“Sorry, gorgeous, you know I don’t mean anything I say when I’m trying to win…and I could have won, couldn’t I? No, I’m just saying, it’s about the principle—”) you and Remus had bowed out. James and Sirius have retained their obsession for days, each keeping a scoreboard in their own heads that seems to hold them in favor. 
“Angel?” 
You look up, meeting James’ knowing gaze. “Hm?” 
“He asked if you’re getting hungry for dinner,” Remus clues you in, toying with the ends of your hair. 
“Oh, sorry. Um…” You think hard. One of the more irritating things about quitting smoking is that now your appetite never seems to fully die down. You’re ready for your next meal all day long, and so you actually have to think about whether it makes sense for you to have it. “I had some carrots just after I got home, so I could eat whenever you want to.” 
“Alright…” 
You take another deep inhale, telling yourself it’s because Remus smells nice and losing your grasp on self-control all the while. 
“Are you tired?” Remus asks, and you don’t know how you didn’t notice it before, that extra bit of roughness that his voice takes on after he’s been smoking. You’re so envious you could die. “You seem distracted.” 
“I’m good,” you murmur. Though perhaps it’d be better if you did take a nap or something. You’re beginning to feel twitchy. You take in a breath through your nose like you’ve been practicing, letting it out through your mouth. 
“Ah.” Sirius scoots closer to you, laying his cheek on the couch cushion. “You want to have a piece of your gum, sweet thing?” 
You look at him guiltily. Remus makes a soft sound of realization. 
“You’re picking your nails,” Sirius explains, and you look down to see that you are. “I imagine that means you’re craving one.” 
It’s simultaneously sweet and irksome that none of your boyfriends will even say the word cigarette around you anymore. They’re trying to be considerate, you know, but it feels like they think your self-control is so tenuous that just one word could shatter it. You don’t have the heart to tell them. 
“Sorry,” you mumble, getting the pack of gum out of your pocket. Just the act of unwrapping a stick makes you feel instantly better. “I guess I was thinking I wouldn’t need it anymore.” 
“Don’t be sorry,” James says lightly. “I don’t imagine it’s easy, sweetheart, you shouldn’t feel bad about using something to cope. It’s not like having gum hurts anything.” 
You hum, then turn to Remus sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, do you think you might be able to change?” He looks confused. “Your sweater smells like cigarettes,” you explain. 
James gasps as though scandalized and Remus swears, grabbing the neckline of his sweater and tugging it off. He tosses it into the hall. 
“M’sorry, dove.” He takes your head between his hands, mushing a kiss into your hair. He’s now bare-chested, and you laugh at the dramatics, totally unexpected from him. “I didn’t realize. Is it better now?” 
“Yeah, thanks.” 
He drops another kiss on your head, remorseful. “Alright, I’ll go grab something else to wear,” he says, starting to stand. Both Sirius and James protest loudly. 
“I think what you’re wearing now looks great,” says James. 
“Yeah,” Sirius seconds, “stay in that.” 
Remus looks down at his shirtless torso, raising an eyebrow at the other boys. You can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. 
“Really?” he asks. 
“Come on, it’s not like the fucking Pope’s coming over,” Sirius says, looking well below your boyfriend’s eyes with unabashed enthusiasm. “Tell him, gorgeous.” 
Remus turns his gaze on you. You curl in on yourself slightly, shrugging your shoulders. “This is the best distraction I’ve had all day,” you say quietly, and James’ laughter booms off the walls. 
“Fair enough.” Remus rolls his eyes, grinning as he sits back down on the couch beside you. You get comfy like you were against his side, now smelling only him. He drapes his arm across your back, settling a hand on your hip. “The lows I stoop to for you, hm?” 
“If you’re not up to the task,” Sirius says, “just say the word. I’d be happy to take her off your hands.” 
“Fuck off,” Remus says, and tugs you closer.
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rinhaler · 6 months
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Yooo, your plug!sukuna x reader fic has got me so feral imgggg
And it got me thinking
imagine Yuuji and Sukuna double teaming you???
this is not canon buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut... it is hot so hope u like this hehe
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, incest (itadori bro's sharing u), double penetration (one hole), degradation, praise, cheating mention, bruising, hair pulling, oral fixation, daddy kink mention, spanking, squirting, creampie.
words: 1.1k
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“B-Baby I- fuck. How could y-ou? Fuck him of all- all people?” Yuuji wonders, fingers gripping into your sides deeply. You’re bound to bruise. With the way he’s fucking you and squeezing into your supple flesh, you can practically feel the broken blood vessels forming purple blooms with every thrust into your squelching cunt.
It isn’t deliberate.
He just wants you to remember who you belong to.
“’m sorry!” you cry, tears pelting down onto the mattress below as he batters your interior again and again. “I didn’t mean t’ fuck him.. I didn’t—!”
“Aht aht. None of that,” Sukuna speaks, his fingers lacing through your hair and yanking enough to elicit a pained yelp from you. Your eyes shimmer as you they reflect the stare of red irises that have become so easy to manipulate you. “Wasn’t like that when you were crying for me to ruin you, was it? In fact…” he pulls out his phone and quickly finds the home made sex tape he’d made without asking.
“D-Don’t…” you sob, though you don’t have it in you to really fight him. He pushes his thumb by the seam of your lips in a bid to shut you up. And in your cock drunk, dazed state, you begin to suck like a baby with a pacifier. You clench around Yuuji as the video begins to play and you hear how loud you’re moaning for your boyfriend’s elder brother. The sex was phenomenal and you’ll never forget it for as long as you live. “Remember this? Hm?” he questions as he swipes to a certain point of the video.
“Want you to br-uuise my c-cervix, daddy.”
You scream, a trail of drool connecting his thumb to your tongue as you can’t help yourself when Yuuji spanks your ass. He’s seen it before, of course, but it doesn’t make it any easier. God you sound desperate, and in that moment, you were.
“Think it’s okay to f-fuck my brother? Huh? You were meant to say no.” he reminds you. He pulls your back into his chest and holds each of your wrists in his hands and keeps them near the small of your back. And he uses them, for leverage, as he fucks his length into your weeping slit. “Beggin’ for him to bruise your cervix like that? Had no idea what a little slut you were. You want him to fuck you again, don’t you?”
“N-No!” you lie. You’d love Sukuna to ravage you again. To make a complete mess of your insides and churn your brain into mush. You don’t want to think about anything but getting destroyed by him and Yuuji.
You feel so spoilt.
Sukuna doesn’t say a word as he gets closer to you. His length runs through your folds and nudges your clit as Yuuji keeps you pinned in place. Your face twinkles as the light reflects off of your tear stricken cheeks.
Yuuji slows down as Sukuna helps you angle your hips.
Though you aren’t sure how it’s only just dawning on you now what is happening.
Sukuna’s heavy mushroom tip begins to split your cunt further open. Each yelp and cry silenced by Yuuji as he smothers your mouth and whispers into your ear.
“Shhhh, baby, you can take him. You’ve done it before, yeah? Good girl, sh sh sh…” he consoles you. His hands grope your tits and his lips smother your neck and shoulder in soft kisses as he tries to distract you from the stinging stretch being inflicted upon you. “That’s it… good fucking girl… you can take us both, yeah? You wan’ us to fuck you stupid, yeah?”
You hum, unsure if you’re agreeing or not. Nothing is really making sense when all you can focus on is the fact you’re somehow accommodating two Itadori cocks at once.
“Look at you… elastic little cunt.” Sukuna snarls, laughing as he drinks in the sight of you being double stuffed like a porn star. He grabs his phone, taking a quick picture so that Yuuji can see the view he’s seeing.
“Woah… you’re so good, baby. Takin’ us so well.” he praises, kissing the skin behind your ear before slowly rolling his hips again.
“Don’t fucking praise her yet, haven’t even moved.” Sukuna starts, his hips begin to move too. Their thrusts are off beat and your heart begins to pound. You aren’t getting a break to get used to the feeling. The tempo of their mismatched thrusts has your vision whiting out. Your head lolls backwards onto Yuuji’s shoulder as they continue to ruin you, and you swear you can’t breathe.
You aren’t sure if you’re even there.
“M-Maybe we should slow down,” Yuuji tells Sukuna, his hips already slowing before he finishes his sentence.
“Fuck that.” Sukuna grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him. Drool spills from your lips and your eyes can’t focus. But he knows you’re listening and he knows you’re looking. You’re in there somewhere, enjoying this. “We already know you’re a whore so don’t act shy now.”
“’m g’na c-um.” you manage to squeak out even in your dazed state. “H-aah!” you struggle, but your pussy does all the talking for you. The sound of liquid spilling out of you is deafening. The suctioning and squelching sounds that follow are just as boisterous as they continue to pound into you. And just as you think your high is drawing to a close, their sloppy thrusts pick up the pace.
Another stream of liquid gushes from your cunt as they abuse your sweet spot in independently. Your head falls forward onto Sukuna’s chest, now. And he uncharacteristically cradles the crown of your head as you rest there.
Yuuji lets go of the singular wrist he’s still holding so he can focus on fucking into you. And he does, loudly. His moans are raucous as he empties his balls into your greedy hole.
Sukuna soon follows, hissing through his teeth as he spills his seed soon after his brother. None of you want to move, least of all you. You’re still clenching around them both while you rest against Sukuna’s chest. Yuuji begins to kiss at your shoulder, telling you how perfect and beautiful you are. And you shudder when his kisses trail down the column of your spine.
The elder brother is silent as he pants, stroking your hair repeatedly as he contemplates what just happened. But he hurriedly moves his hand away when he sees Yuuji look up at him.
“Knew she could take us,” he smirks. “Your girlfriend’s a perfect little whore.”
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© 2023 rinhaler
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wintfleur · 2 months
Note
🪷 hugging them tight without saying any words when they're having a hard time, with luke Hughes! his older sister and he just needs his sisters comfort especially after how the devils have played and how tired luke has looked
౨ৎ Ice cream and much-needed hugs
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﹕─┈ pairings ( Luke Hughes x older sister! reader )
°. — summary ( Luke’s been having a tough time, and his big sister just wants to cheer him up ! )
°. — details ( g; little bit of angst, some fluff. w; none that I know of wc; 2.2k )
﹕─┈ prompt ~ hugging them right without saying any words when they’re having a hard time
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( LUKEY AHHH MY LOVE ! I love Luke sm if you guys didn’t know !!! I love writing sibling dynamics so muchhhh so thank you for sending the wonderful request !!! I absolutely loved writing it, I really tried to make it angsty but i think I’m terrible at writing angst, I’m sorry if the ending is kinda rushed, I was struggling sooo bad with the dialogue . . . also I of course had to add the love of my Like Brock boeser in it because like DUHHH I am so down for writing more for a older Hughes sister, I’m thinking she’s like 25??? I really hope you guys love it !!! Let me know if you want me to write more for older sister Hughes! Please don’t be a silent reader lovely’s !!! )
1k celly masterlist main masterlist nhl masterlist
There were a lot of upsides that came with being the oldest sibling, there were of course a lot of downsides too . . . but you chose to ignore those and focus on the upsides. Like being able to stay up later while your brothers had to go to sleep, having a good sense of leadership and responsibility, being able to read your brothers like a picture book. 
So, you knew right away that something was wrong with your youngest brother as you watched him play in the last period. You could see it clearly in his demeanor and the way he was skating, he was starting to overthink things, he had gotten into his own head. You of course had seen the way the public and media was shitting on your brother because he's made a few bad plays, and it broke your heart to see how defeated he looked sitting on that bench. 
Jack had voiced his worries about Luke to you over the phone a few days ago when you were out with Quinn and your boyfriend brock. Even with hundreds of miles between you and Luke you could tell something was bothering him, that's why your planned trip to visit your younger brothers this weekend was even more meaningful. 
You were leaning against the wall as you waited for your brothers to leave the locker room, your focus was down on your phone as you texted your boyfriend. A smile on your lips, you missed him dearly even though you have only been gone for almost two days. “Sis!” you heard the familiar sound of jack's voice call your name. You look up from your phone and smile as Jack rushes over to you and pulls you into a tight hug. 
“You played so well jack” You mumbled into his neck, cursing at the curse of being the oldest but the shortest. Jack smiles and gives you one more squeeze before letting go and taking a step back, even though they lost he wasn't going to let that bring him down from the fact that you watched him play in person for the first time in a few months.
 “Thank you, luke should be out soon, he's just being a little hard on himself” Jack sighed as he glanced back at the locker room entrance, there was only so much he could say to let luke know that he's doing okay. You let out a sigh and nodded, already getting an image of a pouty luke. Your eyes lit up with an idea, as a memory from years ago popped up in your mind. You smile at Jack as you ask “Do you think you can get a ride home? And can I have the keys to your truck?” 
“Uh yeah why?” Jack questioned with a raised brow as he pulled out his keys from his front pocket and handed them to you. You smiled gratefully and grabbed the keys and slid them into your front pocket with your lip gloss. “I have an idea on how to cheer luke up.” 
“Well good luck, cause I can't handle a grumpy luke anymore '' Jack jokes as he pats you on the shoulder, happy that you were now here to save him from the grumpy luke. You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest as you look at jack “I remember saying the same thing about you.” 
“Have fun! I'm gonna go catch up with nico "Jack grins as he chooses to ignore your words, placing a quick kiss to your forehead before rushing off down the hallway, turning to look at you quickly and shouting out an ‘i love you’ before turning the corner and leaving your sight. You look forward just in time to see Luke walk out of the locker room, well more like trudge. His steps were heavy, and you can see the exhaustion on his face. His shoulders were sagged as he carried his backpack, he was changed out of his suit and into some sweats and a hoodie. He looked like a sad cat. When Luke noticed you, his heavy steps turned into long strides as he moved towards you. 
Before you could open your mouth to greet your brother, he was throwing his arms over shoulders and nestling his head in the crook of your head, for a much-needed hug. Your eyes widened at how tight Luke was holding you, but you close your eyes and wrap your arms around your little brother, softly rubbing his back with one of your hands. Luke closed his eyes and tried to shut off his mind as he felt himself melt into the comfort and safety of your arms. 
You rested your chin on his shoulder as you whispered, “You, okay?” you felt him nod yes but the both of you knew he was lying. Luke let out a deep breath and reluctantly pulled away from the hug when his back was starting to hurt from leaning down for so long. You smiled up at him, brushing some of his curls out of his face as he asked, “Where's jack?” 
“Oh, he's getting a ride home with nico, so come on lukey I'm taking you out tonight!” You excitedly pull-out Jack's keys and wave them while your other hand is grabbing Luke's arm and dragging him along you as you make your way down the hallway. Luke gave you an unimpressed look even though on the inside he was excited to spend more time with you “I’m not old enough to go bar hopping.” 
“Is that really all you think I do in Vancouver?” You gasped dramatically as you pretended to be hurt from his words. You have one embarrassing experience when you go bar hopping, and now that's all anyone remembers, you think with a roll of your eyes. Luke felt the corner of his lips lift into a smile at your dramatics, Jack definitely got that from you. 
“Besides I'm a good big sister, I wouldn't provide my underage brother with alcohol, at least in public” you joked as you wrapped your arm around Luke's, holding on tight. Luke chuckles and slips his hand into the front pocket of his hoodie, comforting silence coming across them as they make their way to Jack's truck. 
“Need help? '' Luke asked sarcastically as he put on his seatbelt, his eyes on you as you struggled slightly to get into the truck. You gave him a quick glare before closing the door and putting on your seatbelt, quickly starting the truck, wanting to leave the arena before the traffic got even worse. You turned up the volume on the radio, an unfamiliar country song filling up the silent car. Luke let out a heavy sigh and relaxed into the seat, looking out the window and all the passing lights. 
The car ride to your choice of destination was filled with mostly silence between you and Luke, just enjoying the music and the faint sound of the world around them. You could see that Luke had a lot on his mind and you didn't want to pressure him into talking about it, so you stayed quiet, knowing that he would tell you when he's ready. Luke couldn't help but replay every single one of his mistakes he's made in the past few games, remembering every tweet he saw from disappointed ‘fans’. 
Luke could feel himself become more upset and discouraged the more he thought about it, so Luke quickly glanced at you before looking back out the window. Luke was slightly confused on how well you knew your way around the town, he was curious on where you were taking him. But he gave up on asking after the third time you told him it was a surprise. 
Luke’s eyes widen with excitement when he sees where you're pulling into, it was an old ice cream shop that he had driven by many times, but never had the chance to try it. You smiled and turned off the car and grabbed your wallet from your purse and gave Luke a big smile “Come on, I'll even let you get 3 scoops!” 
You laugh as you watch Luke quickly leave the truck and rush around the front of the truck to open your door. You giggle and take Luke's hand that he held out for you, doing your best to do a posh British accent “Thank you kind sir” Luke smiles and closes the door for you, following you across the parking lot, his spirit was lifted already. 
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“This is so good; how did you find this place?” Luke asked you before he took another lick of his chocolate ice cream, of course having a waffle cone. And despite you saying he could get 3 scoops, he only got 2. You look away from your bowl of your favorite ice cream and to your brothers whose focus was up at the stars. The two of you were sitting on the tailgate of the truck, neither of you realizing that your legs were swinging in unison. 
“Oh, I found it the last time I came to visit, and you and Jack were at practice, I've been craving it since” you answered him as you looked back on the day. Luke nods and continues to eat his ice cream. Silence came across the two of you again, Luke didn't know what to say and you could see the way his shoulders became tense that he was thinking of something. You had a pretty good idea what he was thinking about, hockey. 
“You played really good tonight luke” you broke the silence, and you watched as his shoulders sagged and a frown came across his lips as he looked down at his lap. You hated seeing how discouraged he looked, this wasn't like luke. He never let it get to him like this before, but it's different . . . it's the NHL, it's his dream. He whispered bitterly “We lost.” 
“You still played really good, i'm really proud of you luke” you vowed as you gently nudged his knee with yours, your tone proving how genuine you were. You were a good big sister you liked to think, so you would never have a favorite brother . . . but your little brother Luke will always have a special place in your heart. The little brother who would listen to you rant all about your school drama while the other two were doing God knows what, the little brother who fully trusted you to drive him to get ice cream when you first got your license while Quinn and jack swore you would kill them. Your sweet little brother Luke who was far too good for this world. 
Luke let out a heavy breath and his eyes started to water as he listened to you, he heard others say they were proud of him, but it was different, more meaningful coming from you. Unlike you he made it very clear that you're his favorite sibling, that you always have been. The big sister that he always knew would have his back no matter what, the big sister that always was on his side. He looked up from his lap and turned his head to look at you to see you were already smiling at him. “Thank you sissy.” 
“Not just for the compliment” Luke quickly spoke before you could, fully turning his body to face you, thankfully he had eaten most of his ice cream, so he didn't have to worry about it dripping. Luke never really liked talking about his emotions or just having deep conversations in general, but he didn't have to worry about any of that with his big sister who always made it clear that he could talk to you no matter what. Luke continues speaking “But for taking me here and for being here for me, for always being here for me.” 
“I'll always be here lukey” You promised as you set your ice cream bowl next to you before leaning over and pulling Luke into a much-needed hug. Luke smiles and closes his eyes, hugging you with one arm while the other holds his cone away from you, not wanting to get any ice cream on you. Luke lets himself melt into the hug; he really didn't want you to leave. You couldn't help tearing up as you think of Luke and everything he's been through and how strong he is, you really are so proud of your little . . . well not so little brother. You sniffled and whispered, “God why did you have to grow up so fast.” 
“Trying to catch up with you, you old lady” Luke jokes, wanting to lift the mood, he really hated seeing you cry, and he knew you so well that he was sure you were going to.  A loud laugh leaves his lips as you pull away from the hug and dramatically move away from him. Despite his words you smiled as you listened to luke laugh, it was the type of laugh that made you want to join in. You pulled the keys out of your pocket and slap them into luke's hand before jumping off the tailgate of the truck and snatching your ice cream “That's it your driving home.” 
Luke continued to laugh and watch as you stomp over to the passenger seat, the famous Hughes pout on your lips. Luke quickly gets off the bed of the truck and puts up the tailgate shouting a cheeky remark that only made him laugh harder at the quick glare you sent him.  
“Thank God! Brock drives you around so much I'm pretty sure you forgot how to drive” 
°. — taglist ( @cixrosie @toasttt11 )
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teapartyprincess4two · 3 months
Note
Could you write about a random morning with Matt as his girlfriend? Sorry if I not making any sense.
Your writing is amazing!!! Have a wonderful day!!!
A Cold Sunday- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: Girlfriend!reader x Boyfriend!Matt
classification: fluff
warnings: use of y/n, slight cursing, established relationship, a lot of dialogue, very short
inspiration: request^^, A Cold Sunday by Lil Yachty, just the title mostly
summary: You and Matt spend a cold Sunday morning together, snuggling up and keeping warm.
Every day of the week was chock full of activities for both you and Matt. Whether it be work, appointments, events, or daily chores; you two rarely had time together during the week. Even Saturdays were hectic for you both, you’d usually only get a few hours together before bed before one of you dozed off.
That’s why you loved Sundays, they were the only day neither you worked and you always made sure never to schedule anything on those days.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Matt croaks from beside you, a lazy arm wrapped around your waist from under the comforter. “Good morning, baby,” you reply, pushing his hair back and kissing his forehead.
“How did you sleep?” you ask, his eyes closing once again as the drowsiness settles back in. “Mmm good,” he hums, nuzzling into your chest slightly.
“That’s good, baby.”
You’re playing with his hair, your mind filling with ideas of what to do throughout the day. The possibilities were endless, especially because your only responsibility was to have fun with Matt.
“What do you wanna do today? We can go to the flea market, go eat some breakfast, or maybe we can try that new coffee shop,” you say in excitement, your cheery tone being too much for Matt this early in the morning.
“What about the mall? The mall could be fun. Ooo what if we have a picnic? We haven’t done that in so long,” you continue, subconsciously braiding strands of his hair as you compile a list of possible activities.
“It’s cold,” he murmurs, the statement being followed by a soft yawn.
Yawns are infectious, causing you to yawn shortly after. “Yeah, you’re right,” you reply, the yawn making it sound more like a roar.
“We can still do stuff…” he trails off, pulling away from you slightly to look at your face. You smile at him, you’re just happy to be spending time with him. “But we can stay in?” Matt suggests, loving the idea of a cozy day in.
You hum in response, already anticipating the cozy day ahead.
“Hurry, Matt! I’m cold!” you exclaim, lifting the comforter up so he can hop back into bed. “I can’t! The hot chocolate is gonna spill!” he shouts back, panicking as he tries balancing both mugs so none of the liquid spills over.
You groan playfully, scooting to the edge of the bed and reaching for a mug, “here let me help you, you goof.” He chuckles at the nickname, carefully handing you a mug, “be careful, it’s hot.”
“I know, I’m smart.”
You sip the hot chocolate, trying to prevent it from spilling, but the scorching liquid has you pulling away immediately, “Fuck! That’s hot!”
“I just said that,” Matt chuckles, getting comfortable under the covers and pressing play on the movie you two were previously watching. “Shush, it’s good,” you murmur, going back for a second sip.
You settle back against the headboard, sipping occasionally as you watch the movie. Matt blows on his hot chocolate, afraid to burn himself like you did.
He blows on it hard enough for the liquid to spill over the cup. “Oh fuck. I spilled it,” Matt says blankly, looking at you as he tries not to laugh.
“Why was that movie so sad?” Matt sniffles, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. You’ve seen the movie a million times before and each time Matt has the same reaction.
“Babe, you know how it ends. How does it still make you cry?” you ask, chuckling slightly at his dramatic behavior.
“Y/n, don’t be so heartless,” he replies, looking at you as if you’re some type of monster. “How does it still not make you cry?”
You take a sip from your hot chocolate, fighting the laughter. “It’s really not that sad,” you say, taking a hold of the remote to find your next watch of the day.
“YES IT IS!”
“Matt, it’s Toy Story.”
“AND? HE WAS JUST A FORK!”
You’ve laid in bed with Matt all day, and although you haven’t waisted any energy, you’re really hungry.
“Just order pizza,” you suggest, resting your head on Matt’s shoulder as he orders the food on his phone. “I don’t want pizza though,” he replies, scrolling through DoorDash in search of the next best option.
“Chinese food?” you ask, your stomach grumbling at the suggestion. “Neh, too greasy.”
“Okay, what about Cane’s?”
“Not in the mood for chicken,” he replies, exhausting all his options.
“In N Out?”
“We had burgers last Sunday,” Matt finds an excuse to turn down all of your suggestions. “Just get whatever you want,” you mumble, becoming hangrier by the second.
He stays silent for a while, searching relentlessly for something appetizing, but he can’t find anything.
“I’m just gonna order pizza,” he finally comments.
“Bruh.”
MASTERLIST
A/n:
Just a short story about a goofy morning with Matt. Enjoy, luv u. Longer stories coming soon, they are COOKING!
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐
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darlingbabyboo · 10 months
Note
Hi, I’m mitsuyababygirl nice to meet you.
I just read your Fatherly Love and so sweet, I love it by the way.
I was wondering if you could do a request on this video https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Nu7w6F-Ico0
like how would Mikey, Shinichiro, Izana and Draken, Mitsuya Takashi, Baji,Kazutora,reacting to that video I send you ?
Feel free to ignore this request if don’t to do the request, I will understand.
Why Can't I Marry Papa?
I'm in love with this request, the video was so cute! I split it up so this is Mikey, Draken, Mitsuya, and Baji since they're Toman captains! I'll do the rest in another part. Reader is a woman.
Manjiro Sano
"We're getting a divorce."
"W-what." You're heard a lot of things during your marriage to Manjiro. After all the years you've been together, you like to think that you've gotten used to his ridiculous nature. Especially when it's so uncommon for him and sense to come together.
You never expected to hear something like this though. Never in a thousand years.
You drop your knife slowly on the countertop so you're not tempted to do anything irrational. You turn around and are met with your husband holding your sniffling daughter, Keina.
You look from your daughter to Manjiro to your daughter again and finally come to the realisation.
None of this makes sense.
Manjiro sighs, "I've found another woman!"
Your heart clenches. Tears begin to pool up in your eyes. This is your worst nightmare, Mikey, with all his looks and charisma and success, leaving you.
You swallow, trying to appear strong when all you want to do is collapse. "Who are you cheating on me with?" You're proud that you manage to let the words out at all, while on the inside you're screaming to get on your knees and beg him to stay.
Manjiro gives a heavy sigh like it's a chore to even begin trying to explain what's going on, like all of your years of marriage have meant nothing. He rocks Keina gently, "I'm sure this one can explain it to you."
What?
You give your daughter a strange look, what does that mean? Had your daughter witnessed Manjiro with another woman, is that why she's been dragged into this?
You take a deep breath and pray that your tears won't fall, "sweetie, do you have something to tell me?"
Keina rubs her eyes with her pudgy hands.
"I-i wanna marry Papa but I can't 'cause you're with Papa!" She buries her face into her father's neck, trying to hide the fact that tears are flowing down her face. She's failing, horribly.
You look at Manjiro, and he gives you a toothy grin. You release the tension in your shoulders at that. Your heart starts to calm down, now you're overcome with love at your small family.
"Sorry hun," He rocks Keina, "I gotta pick my little girl over you."
You play along, shaking your head in faux sadness, "well, that's depressing, but that's just how life is sometimes." You walk over to your little girl and remove your ring. Suddenly, her tears ceases. She removes her head from her father's neck and she reaches for the gold band with wide twinkling eyes.
At the last minute, you pull back and she juts out her bottom lip. Once again, tears start to pool her eyes.
"But why Mama!" She yells.
You hum, "are you sure you want your Papa," You tease as you shake your ring in front of your eyes, enjoying how her eyes follow it.
She nods eagerly, "I do! I really do! 's not fair that you have him!"
Manjiro grins, ego stroked, "look, Keina knows what kind of catch I am."
You roll your eyes at his words then look at Keina again, who tries to reach for the jewelry with her small hands. You hold it back, "what about Mama?"
"Mama...?" Not understanding where you're getting at, she stares.
"Yep!" You pop, "mama's the one that makes all your delicious food, which includes your favourites: dorayaki and taiyaki!" You had learned to make it for Manjiro, when you two weren't dating and you wanted to impress him. It's to your luck that your daughter adores the snack almost as much as her father.
Your girl's eyes pop and she whips her head to her father, "Papa! I wanna marry Mama!"
You laugh and place the ring back on your finger. You give Manjiro a victorious smile as he tilts his head back and groans as Keina pesters him for his ring.
"You monster, you've turned her against me." He groans.
You place your hands on your hips and roll your eyes, "not my fault she loves her mama so much." Pettily you add, "guess I'll be the one leaving you for another woman."
Ken Ryuguji (Draken)
Despite what it looks like, Ken is the more domestic one of you two. That's not to say he's the best at it (you've got the burned meals to prove it), but his shops closer to home and more often then not, he's the one taking care of you daughter while you're at work.
Over the years, he's improved dramatically, so you're surprised to see Manami and Ken crying in the living room.
Manami is more dramatic, loud cries that you heard as soon as you opened the door (which means that, surely, your neighbours are going to have something to complain about later) but Ken's tears are less obvious, you only notice the small trail leaving his face as you get closer.
"What's the problem?" You question. Manami holds onto her father's leg, burying her face on his thigh. Ken looks up at you, like he hadn't heard the door open and your anxieties start to peak when you see how red his eye are.
"Yeah- um- no problem." Ken says, wiping away some of the tears on his face, which does nothing to make you feel better about the situation. "Don't worry at all."
"Of course I'm going to worry." You sit beside him on the couch, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other on Manami's back, soothing both of them. "There's a lot of crying going on right now, what's wrong?"
Ken sniffs, and rubs his eyes again, "I think this one could explain what's going on." He nudges his daughter gently who lifts up her face and trembles.
You pick her up, and your daughter shakes in your hold. "Baby, tell me what's going on?"
"Y-you're married t-to Daddy a-and thas' not fair!" She says between hiccups of breath.
You crock your head to the side, confused what she might mean, "baby, why's it not fair?"
"I-i-i-" She gently rock her as her cries become more dramatic. Patiently, you wait for her to calm down a bit and speak again.
"I wanna marry Daddy!"
You blink, and when you confirm that she's being serious you restrain a laugh. So this is what your big strong husband was crying about, his little girl wanting to marry him.
"Do you...?" You murmur, moving her around so you can cradle her in one hand and hold Ken's hand in the other. "Okay, then we can share!"
She blinks, not understanding what you're talking about. You wipe away the snot and tears on her face. "You can have him today, but he's still my husband, so I get to take him back when I want him." You wiggle her and she giggles in your hold, her sad mood seemingly vanishing.
You take off your ring and place them on her pudgy fingers, you have to place them on thumb so it doesn't fall off. She looks at the ring in wonder. While she's preoccupied, you turn to your husband, who's buried his head in your shoulders.
"So, turns out you're a big softie." You tease. "Couldn't handle that your little girl loved you so much she wanted to marry you?"
"Don't bully me." Ken mumbles, "I couldn't deal with her, she's just too adorable."
You stroke his thigh, "my big softie." You place a kiss on his forehead, "my wonderful big softie."
Takashi Mitsuya
It's not unusual to hear cries from your daughter's room. After starting kindergarten, she's been introduced to this new world and and she's still adjusting being thrown into it. It is strange to hear them when your husband is in the nursery with her. Your husband's great with children (years of domestic work with Luna and Mana had allowed him to ease into being a father easily). It's no secret how much of a daddy's girl your sweet daughter is.
You drop the laundry basket on yours and your husband's bed and hesitantly walk towards the nursery, unsure of what you might find.
"Takashi...is everything okay?" You question as you start to open the door. You expected a lot of things, but not to see your husband holding back a smile.
You raise an eyebrow as your husband motions you to him. He wraps an arm around your waist and you lay your head on his shoulder.
"What's-" The problem you want to ask, but Takashi has already pressed a finger to your lips and mouths the word watch.
With confused eyes, you watch as Takashi gently rocks your daughter's crib. "Hatsuko, do you want to tell Mommy what's wrong?"
Hatsuko sniffles, "no! I don't want to be a bad daughter."
"You won't be," Takashi says softly, "trust me, you'd never be a bad daughter. Mommy's gonna like what you said."
"Yeah," You're not sure what's going on, but you'd never be angry at your precious daughter. "Mommy really wants to know what you said, could you tell me?" Your curiosity is also peaked.
She looks at you, trying to compose herself, blinking away her tears and rubbing away the ones that have fallen down her face. You wait patiently, as she finally puts herself together.
"I wanna marry Daddy." She whispers, sinking into herself like she's sorry for saying it. The tears start to pool up in her eyes again, you feel bad for finding the situation so adorable. She's obviously distressed about her desires, but you think that it's so heartwarming how genuine and innocent her desires are.
You look at your husband, who was the same love filled look in his eyes.
"Daddy says that since he's married to you, he can't be married to me." Your daughter continues to explain, "I'm sorry Mommy, I don't want to be a bad person, 'm a bad daughter."
"It's okay honey." You reach over and pat her head, "you're not a bad person. In fact-" You remove your wedding ring, "you can be married to Daddy, give me your hand." She reaches her hand out and you place it on her ring finger. She looks at the band in awe.
Her eyes glow, "thank you Mommy!" She cheers.
"No problem." You say, wide smile on your face, "now why don't you go back to bed honey?"
She nods eagerly and Takashi moves so that he can tuck her in properly.
"Daddy, we're married." She whispers to him, waving the ring in front of him. Takashi smiles, and places a kiss on her ring finger and Hatsuko's forehead.
"I know, I'm so happy baby."
You both watch as she loses her fight with sleep, and curls in her crib.
"Can't believe you're gave me away so easily." Takashi teases. You smile, going towards him and wrapping your hands around his neck, his around your waist. You place a kiss on his lips, filled with so much love that you don't know how you're meant to function.
"Can't resist my babygirl." You defend, "besides, like you don't want to be married to our little angel."
He looks at the little angel in question, who's now softly snoring. He smiles, "definitely." He turns to you, so close that your noses brush against each other. "I'm so happy for what we have."
Definitely. You nod, sinking deeper into his arms.
Keisuke Baji
"So you're married to Mama?"
"Yep."
"For how long?"
"Since before you were born."
"And you're going to be married forever?"
"Of course we are."
"So you're never going to get married again?"
"Nope."
"And you can't be married to anyone else?"
"Nope."
"And you don't want to be."
"Definitely not."
"But what about me!"
"Um- what?" Keisuke pauses playing with his cats, which lets you know that this is a serious situation. Almost nothing could tear him apart from his precious pets.
Chieko crosses her arms, her determined face weakened from how adorable she looks.
"What about me Papa!" She protests, "won't you marry me!"
You hold in your laugh at the conflicted look on Keisuke's face. You'd expected something like this, over the past couple of days, you've seen how your daughter's eyes would linger on the band on your finger. She's definitely been asking more questions about marriage lately.
When preparing for parenthood, you had also heard about this phenomena, children wanting to get married to their fathers when they're too young to truly understand concept of marriage, only that it happens between two people in love.
Keisuke looks like he doesn't understand how to handle the situation, dealing with an entire division of delinquents in a fight, sure, that's reasonable, but saying no to his little girl never.
He looks at you for assistance, but you only respond with a smile, holding up your phone and recording the scene. This is pure gold.
Your daughter's eyes start to well up with tears, "Papa answer me! This isn't fair!"
"Well, it doesn't really work like that..." He scratches the back of his neck.
"Why not!"
"Um..."
And that's how you end up with an amazing video to show of your husband trying to explain marriage to your blubbering daughter, something that you definitely use on her wedding day.
Bonus
"Dad! I was four!"
"Nope, you said you were going to marry me and I'm finally saying yes!"
"Dad, would it kill you to get along with my boyfriend!"
"I think it would."
"Mom stop recording and stop dad"
"Sorry hun, this is just too good!"
"You're all crazy!"
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Sorry for responding this so late! Some of these sound the same to me. I'll do better with variety when I drop part 2!
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holllandtrash · 1 year
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secret admin | lance stroll social media au
pairing: lance stroll x reader
aston martin admin and lance are friends (we think?) until lance gets into a cycling accident and then no one knows what to think in this au, lance did not get into an accident at the start of the season, i wouldn't let the loml be injured twice, even in a smau
astonmartinf1
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astonmartinf1 sneak peek into our saturday 😎💚
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hamiltvn oh we love a lance stroll appreciation post
sebstroll he needs a podium this year
yourusername 💚💚💚💚💚💚
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yourusername
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liked by chloestroll, yourbestfriend and 671 others
yourusername are you really in monaco if you don't post a photo dump of you in monaco?
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yoursister woww did she finally put the laptop away and enjoy herself for a change?
yourusername don't be fooled, i bring my laptop with me everywhere
yourbestfriend okay bestie who is that in the third pic
yourusername my boss
lance_stroll added to their story
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astonmartinf1
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astonmartinf1 lance stroll spotted 💚
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charles_leclerc 😂😂😂😂😂😂
landonorris aston martin admin doesn't play around
f1 here for this series
lance_stroll this was uncalled for
astonmartinf1 it was completely called for
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lancestroll
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lance_stroll finished in the points today! Good hustle from everyone on board -- bring on the next race 👊👊
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astonmartinf1 see what you can accomplish when you stop stalking admin? 💚💚
lancestroll stalking is a harsh word, you're the one who invites me to hang out paddocksleuth do we sense some flirting in the comments??? rearwingf1 here for this paddock love story
yourusername 💚💚💚
liked by lancestroll
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yourusername
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yourusername all work, no some play (see u later monaco)
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lance_stroll please delete
yourusername woahh sorry idk how that last pic ended up in there chloestroll L O L
formulalewis okay but if she is admin i understand why lance keeps taking her picture 🥵
paddockgf so shes hot AND has a sense of humour
jemmapitlane lance make a move on her or i will
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yourusername
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yourusername just what i wanted, a coffee the size of my head
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yourbestfriend tu es trop mignon
yourusername bestie you know i don't speak french lance_stroll she said you're the cutest yourbestfriend ^^^^ yourusername i AM the cutest liked by lance_stroll
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lance_stroll
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lance_stroll absolutely gutted to be missing the Spanish Grand Prix but I will be watching and cheering on astonmartinf1 from home. Thank you to my medical team who has made this rehabilitation process smooth and optimistic.
huge thank you to friends and family for their incredible support during this time and a special shout out to the girl who refused to leave the hospital room the entire time I was admitted💚
I promise to be back behind the wheel as soon as possible👊
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astonmartinf1 We miss you (both of you).
landonorris rest up mate, we'll see you soon
f1 💚💚💚
granddprixgf WAIT ADMIN HAS BEEN WITH LANCE THIS WHOLE TIME???
leclerrcs16 THEY'RE DATING???/?? ?W??? WAHT
tyreblanketss how did NONE of us figure this out🥺🥺🥺
yourusername
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yourusername 3 different photos, 3 important moments in our life.
1 - the day we became more than friends, the end of the season celebration last year that i wasn't even going to attend but thank god i did because you finally made a move after i spent the last 8 months winking at you from across the garage
2 - the day you told me you loved me for the first time, also the day i realized you are most definitely going to be the person i spend the rest of my life with
3 - and yesterday, seeing you smile for the first time in a week, after an accident that has forced you to slow down and take a (temporary) step back from the world around you. yesterday was a reminder that I fell in love with your strength, resilience and determination. you are the most passionate and dedicated man that i know and i am blessed to have you at my side💚 i love you, you'll be back behind the wheel before you know it
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lance_stroll i love you, thank you for being my biggest supporter💚 i can't imagine doing this without you
chloestroll 🥺🥺🥺🥺
f1 paddock love story
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this was the longest smau ive ever created
masterlist here
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manicpixiefelix · 4 months
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all this, and love too (will ruin us)
{ One-Shot for head, heart, hand. }
Summary: The night of Oliver's party and both yours and Felix's moods are ruined upon finding out Oliver had been lying to you both for your entire friendship. While sticking with Felix all night to make sure he doesn't maim Oliver, Felix realises he doesn't like sharing you anymore. You're more than okay with this, but Oliver doesn't seem to be okay with sharing Felix, even if he has no say anymore. Canon tries to happen, but you get there first, so you kill the problem at it's source.
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: MAZE SCENE; death, murder, violence, nongraphic smut, dominant felix, bathroom blowjob, oliver's birthday party situation, oliver being incredibly manipulative, reader being incredibly manipulative back at him, heavy drinking and drug use, You VIOLENTLY Murder Oliver Quick In The Maze.
A/N: 6074 words. oh god these oneshots are only getting longer and longer. whoops. but also PLEASE heed the warnings. this is the Reader Kills Oliver oneshot (first of two) that i was talking about. not sure how i feel about it. its very unedited.
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
On the drive back from his parents' house, Oliver sits in the back. Like a scolded child he keeps his gaze low and voice even lower. None of you speak the entire drive back; you try and focus on the wind in your hair and the hum of the car and not how your stomach is turning. In your mind you see the connections as they light up, small things you'd missed, things that are starting to make a lot more sense.
You wonder what other lies you could have gotten ahead of if Oliver hadn't been so nervous about you going through his file at Oxford.
Every single thing about him was designed specifically to be appealing, to you, of course, but more importantly to Felix. It was meant to be you who knew it all, could see the full board and all the pieces the people around you moved; it was meant to be you who could plan well enough and see far enough out to keep Felix out of situations exactly like this.
Felix is curt and swift the moment he's out of the car, trying to escape Oliver who rushes after him, his desperation echoing through the halls. You're several steps behind Oliver, silent, watching the exchange, watching Oliver cling to an ever-dwindling hope for even friendship, as Felix calls out the weirdness of his ongoing lies, tearing that hope asunder.
"I just wanted to be your friend," is all Oliver can say when pressed about his lies. It's genuine, it breaks your heart, but it doesn't make it better. For a moment, you see conflict as it flashes across Felix's face, but he clearly can't do this right now, needing at least the night, but promising not to tell his family.
As you go to leave, go to follow him, Oliver catches your sleeve, holds it too tight for just a moment -
"I thought you knew," his voice wobbles, but there's something like alarm bells in the back of your mind. Everything about Oliver is purposeful, even now. But you know him, you know how he likes to play.
"No you didn't," you look at his fingers still coiled in your sweater, watch him drop them, "you knew I trusted you." You wouldn't let him shift this blame; the faint dismay you can see in his eyes behind the hurt gives him away. He knew Felix had more emotions than sense, but somewhere along the way he seemed to have forgotten that you were so much more than another adoring fan in Felix's shadow.
"'m sorry," stumbles from his mouth almost like a reaction to the look in your eyes, "for hurting Felix with all this, I- I never wanted that," he shakes his head, dropping his gaze, "or hurt you," tacked on as an afterthought. Both of you know where he was placing the importance of that apology. Everything Oliver Quick does is with purpose.
"I know you are, Oliver," you tell him, standing tall and unflinching as you left him alone.
"If you leave my side tonight I'm going to maim him," is how Felix greets you when you enter your room. Sitting on his bed, you see a little, ornate box open in front of him, and you recognise it as one of the few stashes he had around the estate for desperate times. This one, if you recall correctly, was shoved well beneath Henry the Eighth's bed, and had a decent amount of coke that you'd left here after last Christmas.
"Can't fucking believe- I can't fucking believe him!" He rants, cutting up lines of coke on the little hand mirror Venetia had donated to this particular stash box. Mind working a million miles a minute, you're quiet, letting him rant. Running on autopilot, you begin to strip down to your underwear, pulling out your costume for the night, frowning at it in the afternoon light.
"How complicated is your costume?" Felix asks, finally looking up, gazing over at you and the sheer, shimmering thing in your hands. Without a word, but with a vague shrug, you turn it to him.
The base was like something you'd see at a rave, little more than green underwear, with straps, and beading, and jewels, and loops of green and purple pearls by your hips that would bounce while you walked. The overcoat, though it was far to generous to call it that, was pure gossamer, sheer and green, with hand-stitched silk leaves making up the hem that fell perfectly to your ankles, and intricate, hand embroidery of vines that extended across both shoulders, and both arms, ending with little, purple flowers embroidered by your wrists.
There's large, brown boots with a bit of a hell and some large buckles, and a belt that's half a skirt that hit just below your knee to give you some coverage, at least on your left, sewn to look like it was covered in leaves. Plus a leather thigh harness and flask that Farleigh had gotten you made for your last birthday.
Leaning back, Felix reaches out to feel the gossamer between his fingers, frowning for a beat.
"Don't be precious about it."
For a moment, you frown in confusion. Despite your entire outfit being exquisitely and perfectly tailored, you knew you could afford to not be precious about pretty much anything, even this. But that's never been an outright request he's made.
"I'm not?"
Quiet follows, the soft rustle of your garments as you begin to get dressed, and Felix quickly snorting a line of coke.
"I'm going to lose my fucking mind tonight," he mumbles. Even though you're half dressed, you still lean over his shoulder automatically as he lifts the mirror and the rolled bill up to you like an offering, holding the mirror steady for you.
"I need a drink," you groaned, to which Felix immediately agreed.
"God, why don't we stash anything in here?" He lamented, laying back and watching you head to the door once more while you're trying to do up your belt to hold up your partial leaf skirt, still without your overcoat.
"Because that's tacky and we're not alcoholics." Even with your explanation, Felix pouted. Still, it's a quick trip to the Blue Room and the bottle of rum you're glad Venetia hadn't found in the broken piano.
The night gets blurrier, gets better, with half a bottle of liquor in your veins before the sun even sets. As you're making yourself dreamy and ethereal with glitter and gems and makeup in the mirror, Felix drapes himself over your shoulders, pouting again. The drinks and drugs are already hitting you both and you can hear the revelry beginning outside.
"It's not going to last," he says pointedly, and you're confused until you see him trying to poke at the iridescent eyeliner that wasn't quite dry. Rolling your eyes, you smack his hand away. So he makes his point again, adding, "I'm going to get glitter all over me."
You smirked at him in the mirror, tipping your head against his.
"Don't be precious about it."
A spirit amongst the fairies, you greet your college friends with open arms and boundless enthusiasm, always keeping Felix close at hand. He was more subdued than you, more subdued than many of your friends were used to. Whenever you looked at him, it seemed like his gaze was searching, his expression drawn unless someone had caught his attention, and he wore a smile that seemed to convince them.
"Need a drink," his hand around your wrist and no time to protest, Felix dictated your night and it's pace. Frustration and apprehension keep him tense, even as he tries to loosen up; you feel every time that tension spikes, even if you don't know it's cause. His nails dig into you, wherever he's holding you, shoulder, thigh, arm -
In the bathroom, doing lines with India and some guys who claim to be friends of friends of the Cattons, you're leaning against the sink until you Felix nudge your knee with his own. Looking to the door, you see Oliver in white, taking up it's space. Felix only has to gently tap your thigh for you to shift, sitting in his lap.
"You can't ignore me forever," Oliver tells him, watching you both, watching the way Felix wraps an arm around your middle to hold you close and secure on him.
"I can try," Felix practically sings, his nails sinking into your stomach. With his free hand, he offers you his cigarette, raising it to your lips. You drop your gaze as you inhale, trying to only focus on keeping Felix secure in this moment.
"Felix we need to talk," Oliver insists, "Felix, come on man -"
"Look, man, I tried to be nice -" Felix started, and though you tried to gently warn him, pressing against him with Fi on your lips like you hope he won't say something he'll regret, he just holds you tighter and continues on, "but can you fuck off and bother somebody else?"
India half snorts with laughter in the middle of a line of coke, the others all judging Oliver the longer he lingers in the doorway, but Felix drops his gaze. His lips are on your shoulder to keep from saying anything else.
One of guys whose names you don't know asks who Oliver even was, but Felix can't answer; tension again, maybe anxiety or frustration, but his mouth moves from the gossamer and embroidery on your shoulder to your bare skin above the neckline, where your collar meets your throat. His teeth sting. His nails still sting. He swears under his breath before he lets go.
"Sorry," he mumbles finally, sighing and resting his forehead on your shoulder. You tell him it's okay, voice fond, but when you lean over to do another line of coke, you meet India's reproachful gaze. It takes you a long few seconds to connect the dots, to realise what was going on in her head. You're so fucking over everything tonight.
"You know Farleigh was lying to you about us, right?" You say casually, taking your line and sitting back up. Her eyebrows rise in surprise, "I know you think we're all gross and cousin-incest-y -" you hear Felix's faint laughter behind you, and feel him nudge you with his thigh, silently asking you to get up. Both of you do, and Felix manages his first proper smile of the night, even if it is smug.
"But we're not related," he tells her, "thank fucking god," and smacks your ass as the two of you exit, as if to just prove a point.
You're on your knees in a different bathroom when you hear everyone else start to sing happy birthday, but Felix's voice is a low growl of don't you dare stop, and his hands in your hair. Nothing else matters to you in this state of mind, blurry, pliant, desperate to follow his every command. It's as if you've forgotten what exists outside of Felix's hands on you.
The night becomes lights that are too bright, and music too loud, and laughter and glitter and the warmth of the people dancing around you. After a few hours you feel yourself starting to come down from your high, starting to come back to yourself, still on the dance floor. Venetia's dancing with a blonde boy, looking so pretty, like she's having a genuinely fun night, but when you point it out, Felix takes your hand.
"Don't look at Ven," there's that hunger in his eyes, that firm tone he'd been using all night, "don't touch Ven, don't -" he cuts himself off, wets his lips. Looking around for a moment, he spots something in the crowd that makes him scowl. Just a moment, as you follow his gaze, you see Oliver. The moment your eyes lock with his, however, Felix has his lips on your jaw.
"Fucking mine."
There's half a second where you and Oliver are still locked in this moment, you watch the way his expression starts to shift, jaw tensing, something like anger flickering in his eyes. But you can't bring yourself to give a shit about Oliver as Felix has his arms around you, kissing down your throat with a feverish, almost lewd intensity in the middle of the dancefloor.
"Prove it," and you let him drag you from the house, heading towards the place that had always felt a little special for you both, almost a little magical.
"I'm being selfish," Felix announced as you finally hit the tree line just before the maze, "I don't fucking care anymore, I'm being selfish, about you -!" He turns to look at you, only to see you gazing up at him with starry-eyes, hanging on his every word. He breaks into a sheepish grin momentarily, shaking his head as his voice drops for a moment, "oh, you're fucking loving this, aren't you?"
"I want you so bad right now it's actually embarrassing," you agreed with a wide grin, unable to contain your laughter, despite how genuine the feeling was.
"I'm being selfish," he said once more, muttering it this time, though as you entered the maze and the moonlight peaked down upon you, you could see the blush still upon his cheeks, "I don't want anyone else to fucking touch you again, you hear me?" This time, when he looks at you, he thinks he can see hearts in your eyes; your overwhelming love and acceptance, even for this -especially for this- is making it very hard to keep the stern act up, except -
"Anything you say," you tell him, breathless as you approach the centre of the maze, voice edging on desperate, "anything at all." And you see it hits him just where it had needed to, to hear you wanting and wanton and offering yourself to him -
The gossamer overcoat is ruined, scratched all up the back where you're pinned against the statue, half sitting on the base with your legs around Felix's, your fancy green undergarments around one ankle. His nails scratch down the bare skin of your back, fucking into you with furious intent to match.
"You've always been mine," he groans into your ear.
"Felix -" you whimpered. Immediately he was grinning, lips inches from yours, gazing at you through his lashes.
"How's that proving anything?" He teases, low and knowing, and as his hips snap up to meet yours, you take the hint, his name getting louder and louder on your lips as you almost chant it, till his hand is between you both, helping get you off, and you're close and all but screaming his name and -
"Felix." Not from you. Oliver.
"Oh Jesus Christ!" Felix immediately looks murderous, and not in a fun, sexy way. Oliver's demanding to talk to him while you struggle to pull your underwear back on.
"Could hear you out there," Oliver mumbles, half stumbling over his words, unable to look at you, focused on the dirt by your feet instead.
"Kind of the point, Ollie," you snapped, frustrated and now unsatisfied, but dressed once more.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Oliver?" Felix demanded. Oliver advances on him, presses into his space with desperate eyes and a bottle clutched to his chest. He doesn't look at you, he can't fucking look at you, you don't matter. It's Felix and his emotions who lead every situation the two of you share; it's Felix he has to win back over.
But he should have expected you not to leave, should have expected that when Felix pushed him away, shouted for him to get the fuck away, that you would try and step in.
"He's already got you on a leash, can I just have this one fucking moment?!" He snaps at you; he doesn't hit you but you recoil like he has, and Felix's gaze grows cold. Oliver seems to sense this before he even turns back, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I just- they already have everything -"
"Back off." Felix warns sharply, but Oliver can't help himself, won't listen.
"I just gave you what you wanted!" Oliver throws himself at Felix, pins him to the statue, their bodies flush and Oliver rambling, "like everyone else does! Everyone puts on a show for Felix..." his voice drops, childish and weak and wanting, and you watch him press himself closer as he turns gentle, "so I'm... I'm sorry if my performance wasn't good enough..."
"I think..." some part of it was working on Felix, his voice soft and placating, "I think you need to see somebody," or maybe he knows by now exactly how Oliver wants him to act; his eyes never leave Oliver's face, even when he doesn't let him go, "you need help okay, seriously -"
"No, no, I don't," Oliver's voice is rising again, "I just need you to understand how much I fucking love you," a tremble in his voice, sounding so raw, so needy, "you're the only friend I ever had, Felix." The manipulation is so blatant it almost hurts; you don't matter to him in this moment, all that matters is saying exactly whatever Felix needs to believe.
"I mean, doesn't this just prove how much of a good friend I actually am? How well I actually know you?" That hope, that dangerous, heartbreaking note of hope that's going to make your skin crawl. But you're not leaving without Felix, and he's not leaving this moment it seemed, "I'm still the same person, yeah? I'm still the same person," he insisted.
A long few moments pass, Felix's gaze searching Oliver's face for something beyond you. But then, finally, his gaze slips to you. All you can do is shake your head.
"Don't-" Oliver murmurs faintly, tipping his head to try and block you from Felix's line of sight, but Felix turns his attention back, expression helpless.
"I don't know what you are," he breathes, "but I do know you; you make my fucking blood run cold."
The fight drains out of Oliver, as does every last drop of hope. He lets Felix push his hands away, makes himself give Felix space to breathe. After a beat, he looks back at you, unsteady on his feet, pain in his eyes, but then he lurches, quickly shoves his half-finished bottle into Felix's hands, and rushes away to be sick.
Oliver is doubled over, retching, when you get to Felix. Before he can raise Oliver's bottle to his lips, you tuck yourself under his arm and wrap him up in a hug. He's trembling, but you feel the bottle against your back. Felix tucks his face into the crook of your neck, tears unspilled, clinging to his eyelashes.
"Better?" You ask forlornly once Ollie had gone quiet.
"Fuck off," he spits, finally coming back around. You watch him over Felix's shoulder, and the glare he levels at you as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand is almost surprising. Still, you try and show the same compassion you knew Felix would in this moment.
"Wash the taste out of your mouth," you try and tell Ollie gently, moving carefully out of Felix's arms, wrapping your fingers around the neck of the bottle he'd brought with him, "I think you should go to bed after." Oliver doesn't even reach for the bottle, but he does stop, looking between it, and then between you and Felix.
"Please," Felix sighs, head bent and bottle clasped tightly in his hand, "I need this."
"We can get another," you tell him quietly, calmly. Felix's gaze flicks to yours, imploring for just a moment, but dropping again when you don't relent. Felix sighs, once more, but finally relents, handing you over the bottle. Which Oliver has kept his focus on, brow now furrowing.
"I gave you everything else of mine, my drink's not even good enough for you anymore, like the rest of me?" He sneers, reaching unsteadily for the bottle in your hands, though his eyes and their focus betray him. Something lights up in the back of your mind, like one of those memories that made far more sense once Oliver's lie had been revealed. Alarm bells once again.
Felix stumbles to a halt -
"Fucking fine -" but as he tries to reach for the bottle again you step out of his range, beginning to see red as you got closer to Oliver, prickling with suspicion, "what is your problem, Y/N," Felix sounds so fucking tired, but all you can see is the deer of a boy before you growing wide eyed as he looks into yours.
"It's Oliver's," trying with all your might to not jump to conclusions, you hold the bottle out, desperately hoping that you'd connected the wrong dots, that Oliver was just drunk and as helpless as he appeared, that he couldn't be this malicious or vindictive-
"You want me to be sick again?" He tries to stand up to you, bottle pressed to his chest and refusing to step back even as you continue to crowd his space, "fuck off." He's seeming more sober, more alert, more with himself with each minute that passes. The distant noise of the party rings in your ears and all you can think about is the cold bottle between you and how Felix had almost -
"Leave him alone," Felix called out, footsteps in the grass sounding as though he was making his way back to the maze, "he's not worth it."
"He's pathetic," you spit, nose to nose with Oliver now, face heating up as hot, angry tears begin to close your vision. Still, you can see in Oliver's eyes that he's finding fewer and fewer ways to escape the situation.
"I don't care what either of youse think of me anymore," Oliver's lip curls as it quivers, trying to play distraught and callous all at once, "go fuck each other to feel like you're not just a fucking waste of space, vapid cunts -" he can see he's touched a nerve by the way your expression lights up with malevolent fury.
"Fi," there's a shake in your voice that you can't even fight, "please leave."
"Can you please come with me," Felix sounds like he's on the verge of tears, and when you turn, he's reaching for you, his hand shaking, "please can we go?" He begs.
An angel. Your best friend. Your everything. Your Felix.
Seeing him like this, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that Oliver's greed and jealousy would rather see Felix hurt than not in love with him, you couldn't let him get away with it. Finally you start to cry, even if you hadn't meant to, and the sight of it has Felix begging for you to leave with him. Oliver starts pushing, demanding that you both fuck off.
"Give me a minute, My Felix," you tell him, trying to smile, trying to reassure him, "I'll catch up."
"I'm not leaving without you."
"I don't want you to see this," you turn back to Oliver with newfound resolution. He's stepped back, leaning himself against the statue, doubled over, head in his hands.
"See what?" Felix asks dubiously, and Oliver looks up, sees the way you're approaching him, and scrambles to straighten his posture.
"Ollie's going to have a little drink," you offer him the bottle again.
"Tryna make me sick again?" He snarls.
"Then use it to wash your mouth out, then swallow," you order coldly, "and repeat until the bottle's empty."
"Why should I?"
"Because it's just as perfectly fine as when you handed it to Felix," you hissed, voice low enough that Felix himself couldn't properly hear. Oliver narrowed his eyes, matching your tone.
"If I don't?"
"What I will do to you, Oliver Quick, will be much worse than whatever you've put in that bottle, so you'll drink it all up," you leaned in, whispering close and menacing, "and if you do throw it up, I will have you on your belly, like the worm you are, sucking your own sick off of the fucking ground."
"What the fuck is going on?" Felix demanded, and you turned, taking a deep breath and hopefully giving a much more convincing, determined smile.
"He made you cry."
Felix's expression immediately changed. All soft and fragile but understanding, he just asks that you don't be long. You promise not to be. Both you and Oliver watching him go.
Once in the clear, you turn back to your captive audience, keeping your voice low.
"I'm not going to make you drink it," you admit, and though Oliver's confused and on edge, he seems to relax, just a little.
"The fuck do you want from me then?"
"I just need to hear you say it," you step back from him, give him space, even step around to place the bottle at the foot of the statue and lean your forehead against the cool stone.
"Say what -?"
"I'm not fucking stupid, Ollie," you groaned, looking at him out of the corner of your eyes, "you think I could hurt you? I ruin lives behind the scenes, I couldn't -" you flail your hands awkwardly, rocking back on your heels, turning to him properly once more. It appears to work, however, as Oliver is now only regarding you warily, instead of seeming actively cautious. "I was... hurt," you admitted, "I know why you said it, but I was hurt to hear you say Felix was your only friend."
"That's not -" he tried, defences lowering further as he attempted to defend himself.
"No, I get it; I've done terrible things because I love Fi, I couldn't imagine," you cast a pitying, apologetic look to Oliver, "him not loving me back."
And it works. He cracks, little by little. The tears begin to form, the lip starts to tremble.
"It's not fucking fair," it already sounds like there's a lump in his throat, "why do you deserve his love?" He scowls, "why can't I? I can be like you, I can be good -" he babbles, sniffling harshly amongst his defiantly sharp tone, "I know I could be," you gently wrap an arm around him and he fists a hand to tightly in your overcoat that it tears, "I was everything he wanted me to be -"
"I know, Ollie, I know," you carefully remove his antlers, holding them in one hand as you coax him in close, running a comforting hand through his hair.
"I wanted him to love me, I wanted- I never wanted him hurt, but wanted him dead so it wasn't my fault if he didn't love me; he couldn't love anyone -" he breaks down into furious tears, "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. I hate you, I hate that he loves you without you even trying -" there's no apology in his distress, even as he lets you hold him close, and you, for a few more moments, whisper reassuring nonsense. "I never wanted to hurt him," he mumbled softly, "but I wanted to kill him. I could never hurt him," there's anger and guilt in his eyes as he looks up at you, tear soaked and helpless, "but I wanted to hurt you." What you give him in return is pity, is sweetness and apology, but your blood is burning through your veins.
"You would have regretted it."
"I know..."
"Are you lying?"
"I think I am."
You have what you need, the confession, the intention; validation for your motivation. Hook, line and sinker.
"Hey, Ollie, Ollie, darling look at me, I know, okay, I know-" you try, taking his face in your free hand.
"No you fucking don't!" Oliver insists, but you keep insisting, "don't fucking take that tone, I just told you I was trying to kill Felix to hurt you -!" He thrashes, but your gentleness is unrelenting in this moment. You will give Oliver Quick what he deserves.
"Ollie, look at me, okay? Look me in the eyes, please -" you begged, and finally he did, despair and anger all there amongst the tears, "keep looking me in the eyes," you tell him gently, and firmly, and he does, too curious for his own good and wanting to see where this was going -
"Everything," you give him the faintest, reassuring smile, one hand on his face, shaking, messily wiping tears from his cheeks with your thumb as he keeps your gaze, "is going to be -"
- and you ram one of his antlers into his soft, exposed belly with all your strength. Surprise and pain hit him all at once and suddenly he's scrambling, trying to get your hands off of the headpiece. But he's winded, and suddenly in overwhelming pain.
"- fine," you breathe out, shaking with adrenaline. You have him pinned against the statue, just like he'd had Felix only minutes ago.
"Eyes, Oliver," you ordered coldly, while making sure to keep smiling, even as fresh traitorous tears were gathering and already spilling down your cheeks. Hand in his hair coming to grip him tightly, keeping his gaze level with yours, "what did I say? I want you to look me in the eyes -" and you rip the antlers out before plunging them back into his gut. Lips twisting into an animalistic snarl involuntarily, Oliver splutters and fights and squirms but everything is becoming slippery, and warm, and slick with his blood. The antlers, your hands, and his; hard to get a grip like the firm one you had on your weapon of choice.
"Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-" he chokes out helplessly, bloody hands moving up, trying to grip your arms, your shoulders, your face, "how -fuck- why -?"
"Whatever you had in that bottle is too good for you; you tried to kill Felix, you said so yourself."
As his strength begins to fail, the way he holds your face turns tender, almost gentle, before his hands fall back to rest on yours, both gripping the bloody antler. Oliver's weight rests on the statue, watching you with despair and helpless, pained moans. Cheeks wet with tears, you can't even fathom how you're doing this, or who you will be once it's done.
"You are not the minotaur of this maze," you grit your teeth, leaning your weight on the headdress, driving it into his guts until the bloody antler snapped clean off of the headdress, you still can't bring yourself to stop. It doesn't feel like enough. He tried to kill Felix. So you took the other antler in hand, unable to stop yourself, shaking with rage and tears, "you are the dear in my fucking headlights; you tried to hurt Felix, you tried to kill Felix! You are nothing, nothing, nothing," you punctuate each nothing with another bloody, unnecessary jab until you can't keep going. The second antler collapses to the ground, and you stumble back, hands shaking.
"Didn't want to hurt him," Oliver insists weakly.
"You were someone we loved," you can see the first antler still jutting out of him, stemming the blood flow but undoubtedly causing excruciating pain. But you spare him no sympathy, only a look of absolute loathing, finally taking in what you've done, the blood your fury had shed. "Someone I loved!" Burst from you, raw brutal betrayal scraping its way from your throat, face hot and wet with tears, falling to your knees, looking up at him with an exhausted fury, "you will never hurt him again. I will never give you that chance."
But Oliver's quickly unfocusing gaze slips from you, rising to a point beyond you, out into the maze. A weak, faint, but somehow still triumphant smile works it's way across his lips.
"Him?"
Like in a horror movie, you cast your gaze over your shoulder. You hear when Oliver finally gives out, stop holding himself up on the statue and fall to the ground, but all you can see is Felix at the edge of the maze.
And that look in his eyes.
Oh god, what have you done?
"Felix," tears start welling in your eyes again, and finally he looks away from Oliver's body, his own antler protruding from him, slowly bleeding out, to you. From here, he can't see the blood on your hands, the blood that's all over you, but he can see it all over Oliver, "Fi, please, you need to -" but he's stepping towards you, almost automatically; he looks ill. You have to look away, can't bear for him to see what your rage has brought about.
"I'm not," his words are robotic, still a bit slurred, and he keeps looking at Oliver, "going without you. 'said that." But he stops behind you. Eyes closed, you wait, you can't bear to even look at him. Then, slowly, he moves. When you breathe, it makes you shake, but you slowly open your eyes.
Felix approaches Oliver. You watch the faint, far away smile wears as he sees Felix up close once more.
"Fe-lix," he sighs faintly, reaching out with weak, shaking, bloody hands, feather light finger tips leaving red streaks along Felix's cheeks, his jaw, his lips. Felix's head dips in close, into Oliver's aching touch, his forehead resting against Oliver's in this moment.
"You were going to fucking kill me, Ollie?" Felix whispered through clenched teeth, on the edge of tears.
"'m sorry," Ollie mumbled weakly, shock and blood loss catching up with him as he struggled to keep his eyes open, "didn't want to hurt you."
"You wanted to kill me -"
"It wouldn't hurt."
"It would have hurt them!" Felix grabbed him by the collar with one hand, wrenching the dying boy up enough to see him pointing at you, still kneeling on the ground, second bloody antler laying in front of you. All Oliver could do was make a pained whimper, and Felix dropped him back to the ground, "and you said it yourself-" his voice is venomous, but your breath catches as you realise just how much he must have heard to know that, "and even having a thought like that," he snarls, hatred burning in his eyes, "means you don't fucking know me at all."
Felix is by your side in the very next moment, pulling you into his lap as he leaned back against the base of the sculpture. You're sobbing into your bloody hands, nothing else to do or say. Even as he's shaking, as he's crying too, Felix doesn't let you go, doesn't let you feel anything but secure with him.
"You saw it all, didn't you?" You whispered finally, and feel him nod.
"I said I wouldn't leave without you."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry -" and while he tells you that you don't have to be, the words, the fears, the desperate justifications and rationalisations pour out of you, "he said he was trying to kill you, Fi, and I couldn't- I should have walked away, just gotten him kicked out or taken away or- or- but I couldn't," you gasped, "I couldn't let him ever have that kind of chance again, I couldn't risk that, my mind wouldn't let me -"
"I know, I love you," Felix murmurs weakly, his forehead against your shoulder once more, "dad and Duncan will know what to do, they'll take care of it tomorrow," he sounds so young in this moment, so tired and fragile. You nod quietly, leaning into him. When his hands find yours, threading your fingers together and holding on tightly, Oliver's blood is still sticky on your skin. Neither of you seems to care.
"How did you know something was so wrong?" Felix finally asked, the air cooler and quieter now. You have no idea how much time has passed, but it sounds as though the party was winding down. Oliver's party.
"He wasn't that drunk," you said after a long moment of deliberation, "could see it in his eyes," taking a deep breath, you cast your gaze to the guest of honour, completely still, chest no longer shifting with shallow, frantic breathes, "if he wasn't drunk, why was he sick?" Sighing, you leaned into Felix. You felt so hollow; "everything Oliver Quick did, he did with purpose."
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thelov3lybookworm · 7 months
Text
Remember Me? (Part five)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.
But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.
Except for a very adorable reminder of him.
•○●⛦●○•
Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.
A/n: after this, I won't be tagging future parts as Rhysand x reader because this is turning into an eris x reader fic. Also, I'm sorry that it took me so long to post this! I'll try my best to be more frequent with updates ❣️
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A loud squeal broke the silence, waking Y/n from her nap.
She groaned, turning her head, trying to bury her face in the pillow in hopes that it would drown out the noise of laughter and feet chasing around the house.
It was useless.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes before she squinted at the window, trying to gauge how long she had slept. The sun was high overhead when she had gone to sleep, and judging by its position now, she had slept for an hour at best.
Standing, she stretched. She looked around the room once as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun before she went downstairs.
The noise became louder and louder as she descended the stairs. Fin came running towards her, his little body slamming into her legs making her wobble dangerously. By the time she had regained her balance, he came into view.
At some point, he had discarded his heavy embroidered tunic, choosing to stay in the simple inner white shirt he wore. The shirt was thin, almost sheer, and a simple rope crisscrossing over Eris's chest held the garment together.
His gaze rose from Fin's body to Y/n's eyes, his grin faltering as he slowed down, panting. He gave her a quick once over, his eyes flickering to hers again. But then he grinned, returning his attention back to Fin.
"May I ask what the two of you are doing?" Y/n gently ran her fingers through Fin's soft white hair, slightly damp with sweat, her other hand resting on his shoulder.
He grinned up at her, his chin resting on her stomach as his hands clutched at her dress tightly. "We are playing. He is a soldier and I am the criminal. After he catches me, I will become the soldier and he the criminal."
Y/n smiled. "Are you not tired?"
Fin shook his head vigorously, his eyes sparkling.
Eris cleared his throat. Both mother and son looked at him. "I was wondering... if I could take Fin out?"
Y/n cocked her head. "Why?"
Eris shrugged. "I just thought it would be fun."
Y/n studied Eris.
It had been almost a month since that night when he had showed up at her door at midnight, and so far, he'd visited Fin almost everyday. Y/n was still trying to figure out why Eris was so interested in her son. She couldn't, for the life of her, make sense of Eris.
But his intentions didn't seem bad, so that was... a good thing?
Finally, she nodded, sighing. "Go. Have fun."
The hope on Fin's face turned into joy, and he turned to Eris with the biggest grin on his face. Eris returned it, grabbing the little boy's hand and sprinting off towards the living room.
"We'll be back soon!" Eris called out, and Y/n watched as he buttoned the last button on his tunic and led Fin out of the house. Or rather, Fin dragged Eris out of the house, the red haired male laughing at the youngling's enthusiasm.
A small smile bloomed on Y/n's face, and she had to make a conscious effort to wipe it off her face as she set to make dinner.
•○🌑○•
Y/n paused with her teacup midway to her mouth as a knock sounded on the door. It hadn't been all that long since Fin and Eris had left, and she wondered if it was them. By the excitement in Eris's eyes, Y/n had figured it would be quite some time before they returned.
The knock came again, more confident this time, and Y/n rushed to stand from the couch. "Coming!"
She set her cup on the center table, walking briskly towards the door.
And then she opened the door.
Which was honestly not the best choice, she decided as soon as she got a glimpse of who stood on the other side. She wondered if it would have been better if she just pretended that no one was home instead of screaming to let her guest know she was coming.
The only thing that kept her from slamming the door shut in his face was his appearance.
He looked like he'd been through hell.
And if Y/n was the one saying it, then it was a serious issue, because she had seen him go through literal hell under the mountain. She had seen him at his worst, and she still had never seen him this haggard.
She studied him, her hand tightening on the door handle.
There were dark circles under his eyes, so dark they made him look a little pale. Or maybe he had gone pale. His eyes were tired, no light in his those beautiful purple orbs Y/n had once adored so much.
"Y/n..."
The hoarseness in his voice snapped her out of the haze that had fallen over her, and she began to close the door.
But she couldn't do it because Rhysand's hand snapped out, his palm flat against the wood of the door. "Please, Y/n, I just want to talk. Please."
The sadness, the guilt in the once smooth, now rough voice gave her pause.
She wondered what to do. Her heart told her to let him in, not only into the house but in her and her son's life. Her brain scoffed at her heart's pathetic response and told her to slam the door shut in the bastard's face.
After a moment of contemplating, she decided to let him into the house, and her brain shook its head at her.
But the grateful look in his eyes prompted her to ignore her sane mind.
She shut the door behind her, watching quietly as Rhysand took in the toys lying haphazardly throughout the room, the papers drawn on with crayons, the chocolate stains on a shirt of Fin lying nearby. Y/n hadn't even noticed the shirt lying there. Maybe Eris had changed Fin's clothes when Y/n was sleeping.
She watched as Rhysand swallowed, his throat bobbing. There was so much emotions swirling in his eyes, Y/n had the urge to pull him in for a hug and never let go, whispering promises of forever and a family in his ear, just like before.
Just like before, when Feyre hadn't existed in their lives and it was just the two of them, keeping each other alive and sane under the mountain.
Y/n sighed, pushing those thoughts away. She couldn't think like that. She wouldn't.
The expulsion of air from her made Rhysand turn around, sadness and a plea in his eyes. Maybe a little tint of hope, but Y/n decided she did not see it.
"What did you want to talk about?" She muttered, wrapping her arms across her chest.
A small smile curled Rhysand's lips, one that didn't meet his eyes and told Y/n that it was a ruse because he was trying to not break down.
She could read him like a book, but maybe that's what happened when you spent almost half a century with someone.
"Straight to the point, eh? What happened to hellos and how are yous?"
Y/n gave him an unimpressed look, and he sighed. "i... I'm here to beg for forgiveness. I'm sorry."
That made Y/n roll her eyes and she straightened from where she was leaing against the counter behind her and made to turn away.
But suddenly a muffled thud sounded, and Y/n whipped her head towards where Rhys had fallen to his knees, his eyes wide and pleading, filled with tears. Her eyes widened, unchecked shock coursing through her.
She knew he would never go to his knees for anyone or anything other than his court, knew how much significance the tattoos on his knees held.
He lifted his hands in front of his face, shaking so badly that Y/n had the urge to hold them and never let go.
"What are you doing?" She asked, holding her heart on a leash.
The tears began streaming down his cheeks and his lip wobbled, staring up at her as he opened his mouth to speak. "Please forgive me. Please. I havent been able to slep or eat or do anything since we met that day. I cant think of anything except you and Finnian. please Y/n, forgive me. please."
"Rhys... we talked about this. You can't just waltz back into my life as you see fit. Where were you when i needed you? Where were you when Fin needed you? Why are you back now? It can't be because Fin is your- your son. You already have another one."
Rhys opened his mouth, but a sob escaped instead of words.
And Y/n's heart shattered right alongside the broken voice in which he spoke next. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I need you Y/n, I need you back."
Y/n dropped to her knees too, settling back on her heels as she stared at him, horrified. "What?"
He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I still love you. I never stopped."
Y/n laughed without humour. "And what about Feyre? Huh? Is she disposable to you? Are all females disposable to you, oh mighty high lord?"
Rhysand winced. "Y/n please."
And then the leash on Y/n's anger snapped, and she snarled at rhys. "Please what rhys? Please what? Come back to you, even though you are mated, married and a father?"
"Yes!" Rhys snapped back at her, leaving her stunned. She was more shocked of the answer than his tone.
She blinked slowly, a tear slipping out of her eyes as she stared at Rhys's panting form, his eyes furious. "Yes, I fucking want you to come back to me. I am ready to leave everyone and everything behind to give my life, my time, my everything to you."
"You are telling me to destroy another female's, another child's life just so I could have you?" Her voice was no longer loud. It was soft as a feeling of resignation spread through her.
Nodding, he crawled forward, towards Y/n, making her scoot back until her back was against the wall.
"Rhys..." She whispered, trying to get his attention for long enough to tell him to get lost, but his eyes that had been staring into hers were now fixated on her lips. She pulled her knees to her chest as she monitored his every movement, her heart beating in her throat.
"Rhys." This time he met her gaze, and she was shocked to find hunger in that violet gaze.
He prowled closer on all fours, simply staring at Y/n the whole while.
When he was practically on top of her, he leaned forward, one of his hands rising to cup her cheek. "Y/n..."
"No..." She muttered on an exhale, but she couldn't do anything to stop him. It was as if someone had gotten into her mind and was forcing her to stay still.
But no matter how much she protested, she still wanted him. Wanted him to kiss her, to hold her, to be with her and to be hers. Only hers. She didn't want to share him with any human turned fae filth.
No. No. No. This is not what I think. What is going on?!
His face was inches from hers, his eyes searching her eyes as his face lowered, only a few inches between them. A hairsbreadth between them. And then finally, finally-
A loud knock on the door jolted Y/n, making her flinch. It was like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped onto her head, making her realise she was about to let Rhys back in.
Rhys growled, deep and low as his head swung towards the door. But then he froze, his head turning back towards her, slowly, his feral eyes meeting hers. Betrayal swirled in them, and something like guilt climbed up Y/n's throat.
He had smelled who was out there, and he was not happy. "What is he–"
She didn't give him a chance to finish, pushing him away with her hand on his chest as she climbed to her feet from her position on the floor and stalking towards the door. He made a sound of frustration behind her, and it prompted her to open the door quicker.
Eris smiled at her as soon as the door was open, Fin asleep in his arms, one of his hands holding a number of bags Y/n didn't bother to count.
She swallowed as he made to step inside. She hesitantly stepped aside as he began speaking. "We would have been out for longer, but then Fin was getting tired, and he also fell and scraped his knee. As soon as I picked him up, he fell asleep."
Eris shook his head, a soft smile on his face.
But then he stilled, his head twisting to look at where Rhys was now standing, glaring daggers at him.
If looks could kill, both the males would be dead, because both of them stared at each other like their mother was killed with a stick, and neither of them backed down.
"What are you doing with my son?" Rhys spoke in a deadly voice, prowling up to Eris like the predator he was.
Eris, to his credit, didn't waver. "Something you are not doing for your son."
Rhys snarled, lunging across the space between him and Eris, his hands outstretched towards Fin's sleeping form.
In a moment of panic, she threw herself in front of Rhys, and he jerked to a stop, his eyes blazing.
"Get away from him Y/n." Rhys snarled.
Y/n shook her head. She turned, meeting Eris's eyes, silently pleading.
Eris's own eyes were filled with deadly intent, but he quietly handed Fin over to his mother.
Y/n walked away from the two fuming males, not wanting anything to do with their bullshit. She knew both of them were pissed and not in their right minds.
But when were males in their right minds?
She gently set Fin on his bed, trying her best not to jostle him. And then she walked out, closing the door behind her. If the two males out there decided they were going to be having a screaming match, she would rather not have her son hear it.
When she walked out, she found the two of them still glaring at each other, but now there was a little more space between them.
As soon as they felt her, they whipped their heads to look at her. She could feel both their eyes following her every movement as she went and stood near Eris. Not near enough to touch, but enough to make a point.
That she trusted Eris more than her former lover.
Rhysand looked like he was about to go on a murder spree, but before he could do that, Y/n spoke.
"Leave."
Rhys laughed, begining to stalk forward. "no."
When he was close, he reached out his hand to her fsce, as if he was going to grab her.
But his touch never came.
Baceuse Eris had pushed his hand between the two of them and was having an intense staring match with rhys.
"She told you to leave."
"And I said no." Rhys muttered, eyeing the hand in front of Y/n.
"She. Told you. To leave. You don't want me to repeat myself."
Rhys lifted his eyes to Eris, then to Y/n. She looked away, her hand instinctively reaching towards Eris.
She realised it a little late. She was trying to shield herself from Rhys.
Rhys laughed again, a deranged sound.
"You will regret this Eris Vanserra. I will make you regret it." Then, in a voice that would have made greater men piss themselves, he mumbled. "I banish you from the night court. Leave while you still can. You have till sunset to leave, and if after that you still haven't left, I will hunt you down like the animal that you are and bathe in your fucking blood."
And then, Rhys simply stalked up to the door, nearly ripped it from its hinges, and walked out.
Eris then turned to Y/n and silently pulled her into his arms.
She let him.
And she let down walls keeping her emotions in check.
She clutched his shirt in her fingers as if she'd die if she ever let go, and cried and cried and cried until she couldn't anymore.
And before long, she heard the whispered words in her ear.
"Come with me to autumn court. Let me take care of you."
•○🌑○•
Part 6
Taglist: @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta
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vodika-vibes · 1 month
Note
Congrats for youe milestone!!! This could sould weird but could I ask for sapphire love with crosshair and jedi reader... from the point of view of the happy batch? (Like they love reader and cross and how they saw blossom and grew the relayionship?)
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Love Is A Choice
Summary: Omega watches Crosshair fall in love.
Pairing: TBB Crosshair x Jedi F!Reader, though the eyes of Omega and Echo
Word Count: 705
Prompt: Sapphire - Wise Love
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Alright, so I think I understand what you were asking, but following their whole relationship in under 1000 words would have been...impossible. So I hope this is close to what you wanted. Also, with both Omega and the Reader being female, there's a lot of "her" and "she" in this. Sorry.
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Omega sits on the stone wall, absently twisting an orange leaf that had fallen from a tree between her fingers, as she watches Crosshair and his girlfriend, the former Jedi General of Clone Force 99.
Omega’s been watching their relationship for a while. From the time it started in the spring, all throughout the summer months, and now, in the autumn, they seem closer than ever.
It’s weird. Their relationship.
The Jedi is amazing. She’s kind and caring and has accepted all of Omega’s brothers into her life as though they’ve always been there, and maybe they have. Hunter did mention that she’s known them for a while, after all. And while Omega loves Crosshair, and she does, she doesn’t understand. He’s so snippy, all of the time. 
And their jedi will just smile at him and continue the conversation as though he hadn’t just been rude to her.
If Omega did that, Hunter would have her head! Assuming that Echo didn’t get there first.
“Credit for your thoughts, Omega?” Echo asks as he hops up onto the stone wall next to her. “You’ve been staring at Cross and the General for a hot minute after all.”
Omega frowns, “I don’t get it.” She finally admits, as she watches the older woman lean into Crosshair’s space, her hands folded behind her back. And Omega’s frown deepens when Crosshair says something and places his hand on her face and pushes her away, only for her to laugh and lean back into his space, “He’s…so mean to her.”
Echo glances at the pair, a small grin playing on his lips, “Is that what you see?”
Omega turns her gaze to her brother, “Is that not what you see?” She demands.
He laughs and drapes his scomp over her shoulder, tugging her into his side, “Watch them, Omega. What do you see?”
She sighs and turns her gaze back to the pair on the other side of the yard. Crosshair’s hands are shoves in his pocket, while she seems to be smoothing his shirt. He says something to her, and she laughs before lightly plucking his toothpick from his mouth.
“Two people having a conversation.” Omega says with a sigh.
“She’s flirting with him, and he’s not only letting her, he’s flirting back.” Echo corrects.
“What? How can you tell?”
“He hasn’t taken his eyes off her face. He keeps pushing his hand through his hair. He let her take his toothpick-” Echo lists, “She’s a bit more obvious. Laughing at his jokes, playing with his clothes-”
“But…they’re already dating.” Omega replies.
“Flirting doesn’t stop just because you’re already dating, Omega.” He sounds amused, “You’ll understand when you’re older. Maybe.”
“I still don’t understand.” Omega grumbles.
“Let me ask you a question,” Echo says lightly, a small smile lifting his lips as he watches Crosshair tug on one of her ringlets, “Is love a feeling or a choice?”
“It’s a feeling,” Omega replies instantly. 
Echo glances at her, “Are you sure?”
“I…well, I was.” She says with a frown, “Is it not a feeling?”
His smile is gentle, “Love is something you feel here,” He lightly taps his heart, “But you choose here.” He taps his temple.
“That makes even less sense.”
He laughs, and tugs on her ponytail, “It will, someday.” Omega scowls and smacks his hand away from her hair, “Just know, Omega,” He continues as he drops his hand, “Crosshair is choosing her. Everyday he wakes up and he chooses to love her. But she is doing the same thing.”
Omega casts her gaze back to the pair, at some point Crosshair has draped his arm around her waist and she’s leaning into him, “So…you think that they’re happy?”
Echo glances at his brother and at the woman who, hopefully, he’ll be able to call sister sooner rather than later, and a smile crosses his lips as she tugs Crosshair out of the yard and towards the street, her free hand gesturing to the trees that have been painted in reds, oranges, and yellows.
“I think that they’ve never been happier.” Echo confirms. 
“Oh.” Omega is quiet for a moment, and then she smiles, “I still don’t get it. But I’m glad that they’re happy.”
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moonstruckme · 8 months
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Poly!marauders with a reader who has a hard time explaining (or expressing how she feels) thing??? Like, she knows what to say but she stumbles over her words a lot??
You dont gotta write this obviously, have an amazing day!!!!! <3
Thanks for requesting sweetheart! Hope you had an amazing day too :)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 784 words
You’re feeling a bit cramped. You’ve got your back to the couch’s armrest and your knees are pressed tight to your chest, feet all but tucked under you to avoid touching James’ thigh. Remus lounges casually on his other side, Sirius sprawled with his legs over the opposite armrest and his head in Remus’ lap. They all look perfectly laidback, spread out and limbs overlapping as they chat about the upcoming quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Meanwhile, you’re afraid to breathe too deeply lest you take up any more space. 
“They’ve been having a great season,” James says, but Sirius only scoffs.
“Yeah, but they’ll never work up the guts to play as dirty as Slytherin does,” he argues. “There’s no winning against them if you’re not willing to meet them where they are.” 
“We never have, and—here, love, that can’t be comfortable—” James takes you by the ankles, encouraging your legs to lie across his lap. You hold your breath, not daring to move a muscle but allowing him to maneuver you as he likes. “—and as long as I’m captain, we never will. We won against Slytherin fair-in-square this season, why can’t Hufflepuff?” 
“You’re delusional.” Sirius rolls his eyes, but then they catch on you interestedly. “Prongs, I think you’ve stupefied her.” 
James turns back to you, brown eyes warming with concern. “Sorry, lovely, I didn’t even ask before moving you. Are you comfy now?” 
You can feel your face igniting. This thing with them is so new, and you feel always on the brink of doing something that will spoil it. You don’t know what liberties to take, what to say or not say, whereas the boys seem relentlessly self-assured in every respect. You like having your legs spread across James, but part of you feels like you’re not allowed to like it. 
“Oh, yeah, um,” you stammer, “I’m good.” 
James looks unpersuaded. You don’t blame him; you haven’t done a great job of it. “Are you sure?” he asks. “We’re taking up more than our fair share of space, we can move over if you like.” 
You shake your head emphatically. 
Mirth sparks to life in Sirius’ eyes as he recognizes your state; it’s the beginning of his favorite game. “What is it, baby? Cat got your tongue?” 
“Pads,” Remus chastises, though his own countenance holds evidence of mild amusement, “leave her alone.” He turns his attention to you. “Does it make you uncomfortable when one of us touches you like that, dovey? It’s not a problem if it does, we can stop.” 
“No!” you exclaim, half-desperate. “I mean, it’s not not nice, I just didn’t…”
James strokes the skin of your ankle in a way that you’re sure is meant to be reassuring but only unnerves you further. “Didn’t what, sweetheart?” 
“I just—I—well, you know—”
“Not sure we do, sweet thing,” Sirius drawls. 
“I just—I don’t know,” you say, growing frustrated. “I’m not sure what the rules are, or the…what’re they called? The boundaries, or whatever. I’m not making any sense, sorry.” 
“No it’s alright, don’t apologize,” Remus says. “You’re saying that you weren’t sure if you could touch us, right?”
You nod mutely, wondering that the room hasn’t gone up in flames from the heat coming off your face. 
Remus nods in turn. “Right, well that’s understandable. None of us have bothered to check in with you, have we?” You’re unsure whether you’re supposed to answer, but Remus goes on, fixing you with a painfully kind look. “I don’t have any reservations about it, and I don’t think James or Sirius do either. Lads?” 
“None at all,” James agrees, and Sirius sends you a wink. 
“Touch me any way you like, dollface.” 
Remus gives you an exasperated look about that, but there’s a good heaping of fondness in it. Then his expression softens again. “What about you, sweetheart?”
You take a moment to fit the words into your mouth. “I’m good with that.” 
James makes a sound of teasing endearment, tugging you by the legs so you’re nearly in his lap and squeezing your knee affectionately. “Our shy girl. You know you can tell us these things, don’t you?” 
“I know,” you sigh, letting your head come to rest tentatively on his shoulder. “I just…I can’t always—it’s like my mouth won’t cooperate.” 
“Do you get nervous, honey?” Sirius wheedles, pouting when you try to use James’ form to hide from him. James chuckles, obliging you by setting a hand on your face, covering you from Sirius’ view. “Why would that be? Are we so scary?”
“Don’t torture her, Pads.” James strokes your cheekbone consolingly. “If she never talks to us about anything again, I’m blaming you completely.”
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hwanchaesong · 14 days
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┗🖋️In between fights and smoke / Daydream collides with a poison cloak / Putting nightmares into a tight choke / Fixing it with a lust-filled stroke 📖
🎧: Taylor Swift - I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
wc: 2.4k
genre & warnings: angst, sprinkle of fluff, smut, stoner!hee, petnames, weeds & alcohol, kind of like toxic rs, cursing, appearance of other enha members, cunnilingus (f receiving), fingering, slight nipple play, creampie (?), unprotected sex, etc etc mdni
a/n: this is a part of The Tortured Poets Department series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.
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The device shook on your palms, the icy night breeze seeping in your skin, truly, you should've worn a thicker jacket instead of some flimsy cardigan on your way here.
But who could blame you?
Getting a cryptic message out of nowhere, more so if it's about your oh so, loving boyfriend, would make you bolt out of your house even during the ungodly hour of 2:37 am.
You read the text again, and you couldn't help the scowl in your face.
"Get your boy."
You've always wanted to receive the magical three words. Not the vomit-inducing one.
Sighing, you tucked your phone inside your pocket, proceeding to walk into the spacious rustic porch of the eerily quiet house.
No knocks were needed, the owner of the residence opening the door once you're in front, motioning for you to come in.
You did and the first thing that you could think of is the unusual atmosphere of the building. Most of the time, the blaring music and glaring lights would repulse you, but there were none of those today.
Did the party end early?
Before you could ask where he is, the male with you answered your unspoken question.. or questions at that.
"No rave for tonight because we decided on another festivity, down in the basement." he says, giving you a weak smile as he shoves his hands down in his pockets.
"Thank you, Jay." you returned the smile, which he wasn't able to see for he's already heading into his kitchen.
You then sauntered at the said place where you could find the person that you have personally come to pick up.
Entering the area almost made you want to go to the hospital. The smell was revolting, a mixture of burning fronds, sweat, ashes of joints and alcohol invaded your senses and it was nauseating.
You stood there for a minute, scanning the realm of awfulness until your eyes landed on the guy that was supposed to be in bed with you. Cuddling you and whispering sweet nothings to make you sleep but here he is, giggling like a child, blowing out a puff of smoke that paints his lungs black.
"Heeseung." you called, paying no mind to the other inhabitants of the spacious basement, footsteps nearing closer in his figure that was slumped on a sorry ass sofa, "Let's get you home."
His eyes snapped open, craning his neck to peer at you, recognition flashed and his expression lighted up. He threw you a wide grin, patting his lap as an invitation for you to take.
"There's my baby! Look, everyone! My baby is here!" he mused, pointing at you, and for a second you'll dare say that he looks nothing but an angel.
Big bright eyes, squinting just a tiny bit with how wide his grin is. Vermillion tresses frame his cheeks so well, pink pouty lips, and an adorable scrunched up nose.
An innocent one. Your innocent one.
Except you know who, what, and how he is. But you're not one to back down from a challenge. The moment you decide to date him, to let him in your life, you know that you're in for a disastrous ride.
"Really, Y/N? Him?"
"I thought you were wise and smart."
"I wish you luck, dear."
You shook the echoing voices in your head, opting to focus on the current dilemma at hand.
"Hee, let's go. Yeah?" you murmured softly when you're in front of him, attempting to get him out of this hell hole with you.
He whines, pulling you into him out of the blue, that made you yelp, gripping his shirt to steady yourself in his lap.
He dips his face on the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, vanilla scent, a stark contrast of the environment he's in for the past few hours.
"My baby smells like cake, delicious." he hums, his hands going over your waist, and you tried your best to get him off you in a lenient manner.
"Go get a room." his friends, Jake and Sunghoon, who are also in the room fake gagged, and Heeseung didn't take that well.
He takes you with him when the annoyance shoots over his veins, hauling you with him and out of the house but not without yelling a playful yet condescending statement.
"At least I'm not like you losers! I actually have a girl that gets my dick wet!"
You kept your mouth shut, the scolding will come later but for now, it's your turn to do the dragging, ushering him into your car so you can finally drive away from here.
Arriving at your own home felt like breathing fresh air, well, the groans of your boyfriend brought you back to reality.
"Lee Heeseung!" you shout in anger, and despite being in a dopamine-incited state, he still has half a mind to be alert when you used his full government name.
"Woah, baby? Why?" he's struggling but manages to come over to you, his hands moving to wrap you in his arms.
You dodged the affection he was about to give, choosing to throw him daggers through your eyes, "Why? Why?!" you shout in pure exasperation.
"You can't just say that! I am not your toy that will 'make your dick wet!' That was so disrespectful!" you imitated his words from earlier with a mocking tone, jabbing at his chest harshly, "I don't deserve that."
His eyes soften, cupping your face and his thumbs caress your cheeks, smoothing your wrinkled features, "Of course you don't. I'm so sorry baby, I was joking with them."
"That wasn't a good joke, Hee. That hurt me." you utter, leaning into his warm touch.
How you hated it when you're this weak for him, then again, this is what you swore to protect and reveal to everyone who judged him early.
They don't know that his calloused hands from all the fighting he did can bring such velvety skinship.
They have no idea that his vulgar way of speaking can actually be so honeyed and gooey if he wants to.
They don't know him like you do. So, it is your mission to show them that a wild man can be tamed.
"I'm sorry, baby," he lifts your face, allowing you to look into his apologetic caramel orbs, "let me make it up to you, hm?"
You stare and nod, because if you're going to be honest, there's no getting out of this.
He presses his lips onto yours in a searing, messy kiss, tilting his head to further deepen it. Your hands cling to his hair, tousling it the more the make-out session gets hotter.
His hand squeezed your left breast over your clothes, causing you to moan and he took that as an opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, licking every corner that he can reach.
Your tongue clashed with his, not for dominance, but for the sole purpose of riling each other up. He moans when you suck on his tongue, unexpected surprise but he loved it nonetheless.
He returned the favor with much zeal, disconnecting from you and the string of saliva broke when he dipped his head to smooch all over your neck. Trailing open, wet mouthed kisses down your clavicle, then biting on your collarbone and sucking on the damage, leaving a purple patch on its spot.
He slowly raises his head, his pointy nose scraping on your mastoid until he reaches your ear, his hands grabbing your ass to bring your lower area to his, making you feel his hard member poking on his jeans.
"Am I doing a great job of making it up to you?" he inquires, like a puppy in need of some validation.
"I think," using your palms to lift his head, giving him an eskimo kiss, "you have to do more."
He smiles, hoisting you in his strong arms and easily manhandling you into the comforts of your shared bedroom, hurling you onto the mattress with matching pecks on your face and lips.
"Guess I'll have to do my best." he murmurs against your lips before all hell breaks loose, clothes tossed everywhere until you're both stark naked.
You gripped his hair tightly when his mouth snaked on your chest, popping a nipple and sucking on it while his left hand played with your other mound, pinching and tugging on it. His right hand slithered down your stomach, passing by your navel until it reached your core.
A gasp was heard from you when he dipped a finger in your wetness, swirling the juices around your labia and his index finger played with your clit in an up and down motion.
He lightly nibbles on your nipple before switching to the other one, giving it the same treatment as he continues his actions on your pussy.
So many sensations all at once and it had you twitching and drenching under him. He's always been good at having you at his mercy when it comes to things like this.
His ministrations came to a halt when you moaned his name. No, he won't let you come if it's not in his mouth.
Heeseung positioned himself in between your thighs, his fingers digging into your plush flesh and spreading your thighs wider, his face so close to your heat but you don't have the time to be embarrassed when he sticks and flattens his tongue out on your pussy.
He licks away your juices, humming in delight with your taste. He's not a man of patience, evident in how he inserts two of his fingers inside, curling it in a relentless pace and it hits the spongy spot perfectly.
"H-hee! Ah!" you mewled, his name is the only thing in your mind. He's so fucking good, your good boy. It shows when he frowns, concentrating on giving you the fitting pleasure to make up for his mistake.
He sucked on your clit harshly, alternating to licking it with his hardened tongue while his digits worked you to oblivion. Soon enough, you've come undone, releasing in his mouth which he graciously received, slurping you clean, only stopping when you have to physically push him away due to overstimulation.
You were breathing heavily, then you steeled yourself when you felt the tip of his manhood poke your hole. Half lidded eyes staring at him, giving him the signal that he can go on and ruin you into his liking.
"bab- fuck! Feel so good." Heeseung groaned when he entered you in one go, your walls clenching around him. When he feels your hips move, he begins to slam into you, docile at first then he hears you beg for more.
How could he even say no to his precious baby?
His hips rams harder and faster, it makes your whole body shake. Every drag of his length accompanies a squelching sound with how wet you are but you couldn't care less, it's the result of what he's making you feel.
Even in your rapture drunken stupor, you can still feel the vein on the side of his cock, sliding so exquisitely inside.
With his large hands supporting your hips, he lifts one of your legs on his shoulder, a completely different position but it allows him to plow deeper into you. Pushing his cock further until it kisses your weak spot, a rather melodious moan erupting from you and that was enough for Heeseung to know that he had hit the jackpot.
He continues fucking into you, your wetness spreading on his balls, thighs and sheets yet it turns him on so much.
He gazes down at you, and my god, a scene worthy of jacking off when he's not with you has been engraved in his brain. You are so fucking divine under him.
Eyes almost rolling in the back of your head, tiny hands grabbing the pillows for dear life, and drool running down your chin. Sensual and messy are everything he had always wanted.
He lurches down to give you a kiss, swallowing your saliva and moans, he detaches and speaks, "I fucking love you."
"I-I Hees-" you tried to return his sentiment, but a coherent sentence isn't available at the moment due to your hazy mind, courtesy of the excellent fucking you're currently receiving.
Heeseung thrusts are becoming erratic, desperate and he knows he won't last long.
"Come on baby, cum with me, yeah?" he mumbles, "Don't hold back." he orders, every word punctuated with a powerful thrust.
You opened your mouth in a silent moan, gushing on his pulsating dick and your tight walls were sufficient for him to release his seed inside, milking him dry.
He pulls out, some of his cum smearing on your womanhood, and he collapses beside you.
Aftercare can be done later, too tired for that, but never for a cuddle. He pulls you close to his heaving body, both of you catching your breath.
"I really am sorry for what I said a while ago." he mutters, rubbing consoling circles on your flushed skin.
"Do you promise not to do it again?" you gazed at him, looking for any signs of deceiving when he agreed without any hesitation, but the only thing that you see is his ethereal halo made out of his hair.
"Hee.. please don't destroy yourself." you flopped back into his sturdy chest, tracing lines on his muscles.
"Of course baby. If I did that then I won't be with you anymore. We can't have that happening."
He chuckles and you do too.
Surely, you don't need any prayers from those people who act like they care about you. They don't have to go out of their way to make their god bless you, because you are already graced with the greatest blessing.
People will judge either way if you tell them that he's your boyfriend. But none of that matters because you have already decided that he is yours, and you are his.
The next time, or should you say, for the future times where you sit inside the bar where he works at, wearing the sexiest dress you could muster that he'll inevitably rip off of you later, you can simply shrug the comments of the nosy dumbasses.
Watching him sing his heart out while playing the electric guitar, you know that he is a force to be reckoned with but he loves you, and you believe that you're the one thing he needs in this cruel world to change.. to improve.
You'll fasten his seatbelt when his journey is turbulent, anchor him when he floats too high, and you will cement him here on earth if he flies away too much.
You will do everything for him, for Lee Heeseung is your heavenly man.
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taglist:
@ramenoil @shakalakaboomboo
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