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#the flames were a time sink but worth it
jackdollnan · 1 year
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mysticdarling · 1 year
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Calling them by their real name - part 2 (spicy)
Characters: venti, xiao, scaramoche (genshin impact!)
Warnings: established relationship, NSFW, breeding., biting, n!pple stimulation, primal, exhibitionism, penetration, smut, no pronouns used for the reader, NO MINORS.
(A/n): hello again, miss me? I apologize for my absence and im happy to announce this long awaited part i turly hope you enjoy your time with my naughty boys~ hope it was worth the long wait! Ps. (I suggest you read the first part first)
_
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Venti
The evening grew darker you didn't know if you should hide or just give up and hope he has Mercy. "Maybe he can only find me where the wind can reach…hmm where could I go without wind?" You talked your thoughts aloud as you walked around, enjoying the scenery of Monstadt. You came across a nice wooded area still feeling the soft Breeze, only getting more anxious by the moment. 
You wander a while on the brink of giving up hope before coming across a cave, which seemed to be empty, only harboring a put out campfire. It was a perfect place to hide out for a while so you did. You walked in no breeze to be felt not even a draft. 
The night began to brew and since you figured you would be there a while, you lit the fire and sat next to the controlled flames. So what if a Hilichurl was to wonder by, you escaped Barbados!…….so you thought at least. 
In a flash of a second a cool gust of wind found its way inside extinguishing the flames.
" oh Windling~ you truly didn't think you could hide from me in my own Nation right? I had fun acting as if I couldn't find you ehe!" You jump just from the sound of his voice, it making your skin crawl.
Venti got into the cave with you without hesitation or invitation taking a bite from an apple he  must have picked from a passing tree. "Me hiding?! Psshh noo i was just…Exploring! Yes that"
Venti busted out in laughter "I'm a god remember you cant lie to me windblume, more importantly I'm your boyfriend I would see before it left your tongue, speaking of your tongue I could think of a lot of places I want it to be right now" He flirted his eyes gazing you up and down.
"Venti!? Geez must you be such a pervert" You grumbled pulling his hat down over his face, soon feeling his slender hand grip your wrist. Venti pushed you down cradling the back of your head as he lays you back getting on top of you. " I've been looking forward to this my disciple, I almost immediately wanted to come running after you even before the rich wine reached to my lips" He pulled at the bow around his neck untying it  letting his cape fall to the ground. He started at your face cupping it softly before his hands wandered, taking in the beauty of every inch of you.  It wasn't long before he had you in nearly nothing at all, the way he looked, touched, made all your insecurities melt away. " Tell me Traveler do you think all of Monstadt could hear you if i make you loud enough?" he slipped off his shorts leaving the stockings, rubbing his rosy tip against your entrance.
You stared up at your bard, it was very clear you weren't speaking to him anymore no, you were talking to a god. "Venti maybe not here what if Adventures walk by or-" Your words were cut short, venti sinking himself inside with no remorse, an unexpected gasp escaping your lips. Your walls swallowed him whole, taking every inch of him as if your body was made for it. "Venti!" You moaned out only to be cut off once again by the bards chuckle.
" Oh windblume I don't want to hear that now call me by my name it sounds so beautiful coming from your lips" He leaned down whispering in your ear, the ends of his braids starting to glow against you. "Say it for me please my beloved" Venti begged, his breath against your neck sending chills down your spine. It was strange it was still your venti but his voice was different, serious, ethereal, too perfect for this world and the whole of tayvat. You felt your face burn with a blush as you turned your face away from the God of freedom "Barbados….my lord… BarbADOS!" It was as if something snapped inside Venti he wanted to defile his disciple. So he did, his hips struck you like lightning noises and moans filling the cave. Even as he was fucking into you Venti Whined in the orgasmic pleasure of your warmth. you couldn't tell which of you were louder.
"That's right, sing for me!" Venti relished in making such a mess out of you
"Mghh! W-Windblume… windblume.. ah! Y/N!!" With every word Venti's voice strained higher. He gripped the back of your thighs folding you to hit the most unholy spots inside you, it nearly made you melt into nothing. Your abdomen tenses reaching the highest point of climax before completely relishing in the finishing feeling. Venti wasn't close behind. He filled your every office before collapsing onto you panting with a huge grin on his face. He laid Apon your chest keeping his seed trapped inside you not daring to pull quite yet. " Now that is how you worship a God ehe"
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Xiao
You ran to Liyue as you near the border from the neighboring nation, clearly excited to see your darling yaksha. Once you finally step foot you notice a dark figure, Xiao breathing heavily staring at the ground. This only causes you to hurry to worry filling your face. " Xiao? Is that you are you feeling oka-" Your words stop, in a blur Xiao tackling you in the grass. He stared down at you his fingers digging into the ground next to you. "xiao i-its okay now its me im here" you slowly removed his mask it disapping in your hands. " I'm ok...i didnt harm you did i?" Xiao put a hand against his head, making him shutter. "Y/n is it really you…. I'm not seeing things right…" He places the hand on your cheek feeling the warmth, his thumb pressing your lips, letting out a breath of full relief " i…i missed your visits and company" Before the golden eyed boy could continue you tugged him down by his necklace, pressing your lips against his, the kiss desperate, rough, feeling the shared breaths.
Xiao pulled back only when you both were breathless. " say my name" your lips parted "no my real name" His pleading eyes was enough to make you melt where you laid "Alatus" xiao couldn't hold back his blush, he trailed down your sides gripping the fabric before ripping it open finding you so beautiful exsposed under the moon. Xiao stared at you for reassurance with each touch before grabbing a hold of your wrist dragging your hand against his own chest his heart racing .
With a smile, your hands wandered down hooking a finger on his pants tugging them down  honestly surprised at his mere girth, but Xiao didn't leave you much time to think before he folded you. He Threw your leg over his shoulder, dragging his tip against your awaiting hole. "Y/n Please stop me.  If you don't stop me now I don't think I'll be able to"
Self-control was leaving his body as he spoke his golden eyes dilated and targeted on you. " I trust you Alatus-" As those words escaped your lips xiao rammed his cock inside. All at once you felt his teeth sinking into the of your shoulder trying to muffling himself. He was a rough lover not that he always meant to be but he couldn't control it, all he does for his life is fight for control so with you tends to accidentally let loose a little too much. His blows were merciless as he pounded into you under the night sky, grunting and panting with every move it all dissolving into pleasure.
"Alatus A..Alatus don't stop p-please don't stop" Xiao rutted inside you gritting his teeth as he came filling your needy hole. 
His cock twitched from the over stimulation but not daring to stop. Whining and shuddering with every movement "wouldnt…Gh! Dream of it." He hunched over you not daring to stop his hips for a second, even with his seed pouring out of you from around him.
Xiao was so worked up he was even overstimulating himself refusing to let it end as he jerked and whined his length twitching like crazy inside of you. Beads of sweat dripped down his neck, fucking you so hard his hips slapped against your ass making the most obscene sounds even after you did finish, Xiao still couldn't persuade himself to stop. He needed it, he desperately wanted to fill every orifice of you and by the time he did stop he did fill up every bit of your sore little hole. That night he was especially attentive, carrying you to his room in the inn, wiping you down with a warm rag. He served you for the rest of the night, whatever you may ask he will provide. Xiao made sure to remind you, all you need do is say his name. Even the one that was Heaven to his ears as it escaped your lips.
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Scaramoche
Scaramouche grabbed your hand leading you to an old abandoned inazuma house. The house was pretty well preserved, apart from the few leaks in the roof and the smell of dust. "we should rest here. I'll get a fire going" Scara removed his hat a little doll falling out, you stared at it then looked up him "what a cute doll! it looks like you, did you make it?" You ask curious, him clearly trying to brush it off as he picks it up. "It's just a stupid doll. Don't think much of it." He shoved it in his sleeve huffing turning away. "...hey kuni i would love to look after him for you, so he doesn't fall into the fire" He froze for a moment before grabbing the plush doll out of his sleeve placing it in your hands. "You wouldn't have liked me.." He said quietly looking at the doll in your palms.
What?"
"You wouldn't have liked kunikazushi, he was gentle, he dressed in silks and was naive to the world. Me and you both know you like when I'm rough with you" Scara looked up at you from his eyebrows, his head still tilted down.
" I think I would enjoy seeing your soft side, I would love if you showed me"you cupped his face his eyes softening.
"In your dreams."  he said in a snarky tone, but with his height you picked him up with ease, setting him on the creaky but stable table. "ah! Hey what the hell do you think you're doing!?" Scaramouche struggled, clearly not used to being lifted off his feet.... by someone else "I want to see you every part of you kunikazushi please show me" you plead really making it hard for the puppet to refuse.
All at once he gripped your hair staring at you with a threatening glare. "y/n if you tell a single soul i swear no one ALIVE will believe you" He glared, you nodding in response.
Scaramouche relaxed becoming completely tender as he brought your hand to his cheek nuzzling against the palm " I love you  and I never want you to abandon me even if you grow to hate me please stay by my side" Scaramouche looked away almost embarrassed of himself, all while you melt like putty in his hands. "Could i touch you more y/n? I want to ingrain every inch of you into my mind so I'll know that I met someone as perfect as you" Scara eyes trailed over every inch of you, slowly dragging his hands down to your neck and then shoulders soon replacing his soft cold hands with kisses. He admired your whole body as if it was complex art, all the way down to your toes leaving a soft kiss as a pure act of humble adoration.
He stood a hand clasping your top. " I want to explore more will you let me?" once you gave him the okay he lifted your shirt dragging his soft tongue against the bud of your nipple. He captured it in-between his lips, suckling on as he stared up at you innocently, you so focused on the stimulation you didn't notice the Wanderer seemed to have switched places with you, he sat you displayed on the table. It was clear Scaramouche was starting to get more worked up then he originally meant to. He layed you back his hips so desperate whines escaping his parted lips as he grinded himself against you, not even able to wait until he gets you fully unclothed.
Not like you were complaining, his tent causing enough friction to your sex to make you enjoy it, Hooking a leg around scara waist. Especially with the adorable noises he made causing you to unshamefully move your hips against it only getting more shutters and whines from him.
He gazed down inbeween, a blush filling his face watching you pleasure yourself on his hard on a wet spot  soon growing on to his shorts.
"Aww kuni you got yourself dirty its a good thing you don't wear those silks any more" you pull his shorts down with one swift movement his length springing out still painfully hard leaking pathetic amounts of precum.
Scara's embarrassed face only worked you up by the second, you didn't know if he was suppressing it or if he's really good at acting, but his innocence unleashed something deep inside of you.
You guided his cock unable to wait a minute more, his hands covering his face peeking through his fingers as he watches his cock sink inside whining from the tightness that surrounds him making him hunch over the pleasure overwhelming the poor little puppet. "Mm oh kuni  does it feel good?" You bit your lip clearly knowing the answer, watching his ears even start to turn red as he nods fast. Scara placed his hands on either side of you moving his hips at a comfortable pace. "i-is this okay y/n im not hurting you am i?" You shake your head in  response to wrapped up in the feeling struggling to even keep your eyes from rolling back. Scaramouche continued both of your noises nearly drowning out by each other. He hid himself into your neck, causing him to bury himself into the silky walls with no remorse  making sure you feel every inch of his member inside of your needy hole. a gasp escaped your lips unable to even scold him finding his embrace so soft and sweet, even if he's playing it off as a innocent moment with no Sinister ulterior motive.
Scaramouche's breasts were heavy against your neck he couldn't help but rut himself into you barely even letting himself pull out before pushing back, not wanting to leave your warmth for a second.
You were starting to get unbelievably close and you could tell by the way scara shuttered in your arms he wasn't too far behind. You couldn't help it you reached your Edge your abdomen tensing. " s-something's happening i don't think i can stop.. I can't hold on… please take all of it" with one loud yelp he released painting your insides with his cum so sensitive he's teary-eyed. Once you come down from the high you slowly wipe a tear that happened to make it to his cheek smiling like an idiot " you're so cute kunikazushi" As if on cue Scaramouche rolled his eyes burying his face in your chest "oh shut it." He grumbled as you tangle your hand into his hair. " welcome back scara"
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celestialprincesse · 4 months
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🎀🍼
What time is it?! More single mom!reader time!
Someone dropped into my inbox asking for Single mom! getting upset at her daughter and yelling at her and then crying about it. I needed a minute to cook but I'm here now.
"Come on, Lottie." You huff desperately, covered to your elbows in suds and applesauce as you try and fail to get your daughter into the bubble filled tub. "If you take a bath, I'll let you watch Bluey before bed." Has the three year old perking up, albeit barely, still stroppy about some trivial thing or another. She's probably still sour about you saying no to having cake for dinner, despite the fact that you'd relented this morning and allowed cake for breakfast, on the condition that she also had some strawberries to 'cancel the sugar out'.
"I wan' see Riley!" She pouts, stomping a tiny, chubby foot against the tiled bathroom floor. Ever since you'd dog sat for Simon on his latest deployment, Charlotte had decided that Riley was more her dog than his, and despite the fact that you too, absolutely adore Riley, the thought of bothering Simon any more makes you physically wince. "We can see Riley tomorrow." You attempt to bargain, growing more frustrated the longer you sit on the edge of the bath with your daughter looking at you like you're unreasonable. You never thought you'd see the day where you could get genuinely upset at a three year old covered in apple sauce and glitter glue. You've already had to fish a clip on earring from her mess of hair, and now you're at the end of your very, very long, single mother special edition, extra strength rope. "Wan' see him now!" Has you practically on the verge of tears. Today has been one of those impossible days where all you can think of as you're working out how much you have to spend for the month and whether you need to call a plumber out for the kitchen sink, is whether it's all worth it. Sure, going back and grovelling would be shameful, gut wrenchingly so, but at least then you wouldn't be alone.
"Charlotte, get in the bath or I'll put you to bed with no TV time." The unrelenting growl of your own voice feels foreign as it echoes around the tiny bathroom. You hate playing the bad cop, that was never your role, you'd always been the one to pick Lottie up after her dad laid down the law, take her for ice cream in the park or to feed the ducks. Now you're forced to do both. Charlotte, being three and having no care for the fact that she's making your life more difficult than it needs to be, simply sticks out her bottom lip and quivers her chin a little. Which, under normal circumstances, would make you give in and try to chase her down with a wet wipe, or coax her with the mermaid barbie doll that 'lives' in the bath. "Charlotte. Bath. Now." Of course, she'd had to have your spirited nature and unwillingness to give in passed on to her like a flaming torch, like you were Prometheus, being punished for giving fire to man. "No!" She shrieks, and that's enough to tip you over the edge. "Fine, bed then! Go on! Go and get in bed all dirty and see if I care." You snap, fingers pinching frustratedly at the bridge of your nose, trying to hold back the angry tears threatening to spill.
You're too consumed by hurt and endlessly roiling frustration to see where she storms off to, allowing yourself just a moment to sit on the edge of your shitty bathtub and let it all out. It was hardly ever that you got angry at Lottie. It was practically impossible given your situation. She doesn't understand where her daddy is or why you needed to go without him, nor why she can't always go and play with Simon and Riley whenever she wants.
"Charlotte?" Simon is confused and more than a little concerned at the snotty three year old currently stood at his door, cheeks ruddy with tears and little fists balled as she walks past him into his flat. "Wan' play wif Riley." She babbles, toddling through his entrance hall to the living rim, where the K9 gladly greets her with licks to her cheeks, making her giggle. "Where's mummy, Lottie?" Riley is called to heel, told to calm down so that Simon can understand why he's currently got your three year old crying in his lounge. "Baffroom." The toddler mumbles, seemingly perfectly content to get comfortable on his couch with Riley, burying her little face in the fluffy golden scruff of his neck. "What do you mean, bathroom, poppet? Is mummy alright?" "Mummy cryin'." "Did something happen?" In her usual way, Charlotte completely zones out from his line of questioning, too engaged with snuggling his dog.
The toddler wails and kicks when she's hoisted up onto his hip and carried back through the concerningly open door of your apartment, still swinging slightly on its hinges from where Lottie had thrown it open. "Love?" Simon calls into the seemingly empty house, your daughter on his hip and Riley waiting at his feet, wet nose twitching for any smell of the familiar woman who feeds him treats and scratches behind his ears. In seconds, Riley is tearing into the dimly lit bathroom, jolting you from your meltdown, followed rapidly by Simon and a tired looking toddler. "Love? Darling, what happened?" He's crouching at your bare feet as you sit defeatedly on the rim of the tub, your chin in his hands, tilted this way and that as though to make sure you're not hurt.
"Charlotte wouldn't get in the bath and - and" You can barely get your words out before you're wailing into your hands again, hiccuping pathetically at your situation and the fact that such a simple thing has the strength to derail you entirely. "Ah. Wondered why she came round mine all huffy and puffy." "Oh my God, I'm so sorry - You must think I'm awful." "I don' think you're awful. I think you're fuc-fudging amazing. Look at you, are you jokin'? Raisin a kid all alone, startin' a new life just the two of you. You're a trooper, yeah? I've seen soldiers weaker than you." "You don't really think that." You sniffle, inadvertently leaning your cheek into his palm when he reaches up to wipe your tears. "Course I do. You're brave and kind and beautiful. You've done a hell of a job with the little spitfire over there. Don't think I've ever come across a woman I admire the way I do you."
The way his words, aloof, distant Simon Riley's words make butterflies flutter in your stomach should be illegal. The way his eyes are so warm and dark like the comfort of a warm bed after a long day makes your heart pound and your breath catch. You know you shouldn't feel like this, for Charlotte's sake, and his, and yours, and yet you can't stop yourself. For the first time, you're falling, hard. Not for danger or the lure of the unknown. No. You're falling for the safe, gentle domesticity that Simon offers you in the waiting palm of his hand, like feeding a frightened animal in the hopes of coaxing them into the safe warmth of a home.
。 ゚ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.゚
I didn't mean for this to be 1.2k oops I got totally carried away 😚
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tojipie · 1 year
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Toji’s first time at the club with you after he gets out of prison?
prison bf series linked here !
content: smoking, alc
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toji had missed a lot of things besides you during his time in the slammer.
car rides, casinos, weed, movie theaters, the whole 9 yards really. but if you held a gun to your boyfriends head and asked him what he missed the most? he might just slip and say it was booze.
toji sits on one of the leather couches in your private section, rolling his glass in salt before filling it with a drink you can’t pronounce. beside him stand 2 bar carts packed to the brim with everything he’d need to get shitfaced, courtesy of the club’s owner who seemed to owe him more than a few favors.
you see his eyes physically flutter back into his skull when he takes his first sip, savoring the tart liquid as it flowed over the salted rim and down his throat.
long behind were the days of sneaking sketchy prison hooch and stale cigarettes. the late nights you sit quietly across from him, watching him enjoy himself with a soft smile.
“feel good?” you ask with a giggle, taking a chaste sip of your own drink.
the older man nods, running a shaky hand through his hair like he almost can’t believe he’s got all this alcohol to himself.
“c’mere.” he says, motioning towards himself with two fingers. you set your drink down and sink down next to him, intertwining your legs. the older man traces circles into the skin of your thigh while he savors his liquor.
“you wanna go dance, pretty?” he asks, reaching down to lightly massage the skin of your calf.
you think it over a little before grabbing his hand to lead him to the dance floor, you pause when he doesn’t budge.
toji chuckles quietly, throwing back a shot before explaining himself.
“without me i meant.” he laughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “i’ve got a few bottles to finish off, right? go make friends.”
you debate over leaving your boyfriend to his own devices, could a 30 year old man fresh out of prison really be left alone with a week’s worth of booze? no, probably not. your suspicions are confirmed as soon as you see him flick a lighter in your peripherals.
“hey!” you chastise, waving the flame out with your hand. “no smoking inside.”
the cigarette in his mouth droops as he looks up at you, clearly unamused.
“since when was that a rule.” he mumbles, throwing the cig on the table in front of him.
“i can handle you drunk, but i honestly can’t handle you drunk and smelling like tobacco.” you chastise, pressing a kiss to his forehead to soften the blow.
“you’re on babysitting duty then.” he muses, voice already starting to slur. “y’r gonna watch me polish these bottles off n’ as soon as i’m done we’re gonna go dance, ok?”
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taglist ! <3 🏷️
@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko
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nunalastor · 3 months
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Eventually the game of rivalry comes to an end. Lucifer for the most part only antagonizes Vox out of pettiness and also wanting to mess with Alastor a little, thinking Vox is just a sort of pathetic simp that can't let go of an old flame. Until the latter tries to do or says something that makes the fact that he is a legitimate creep (he's with Valentino for a reason) sink in.
Suddenly the obsession and the insistence on touching Al and the cameras tracking every inch of the hotel suddenly clicks. The lust and entitlement to another person reminds Lucifer far too much of Adam and he's still soft for Lilith even after all these years, and so the next time Vox tries to touch Al, he loses an arm and gets a shattered screen for his efforts before Lucifer can even think about it. He knows that Al's a mean fighter who can guard himself well, but that doesn't mean he should have to against someone who isn't worth either of their time.
Ironically, THIS is what finally gets Susan to approve of him, when he no longer cares and just wants the game to be over. As a widow of seven, she can respect the hustle of murdering a husband for your own gain (until the end of her days she doesn't realize that Vox and Al were never together).
👀
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anantaru · 1 year
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umm hi i love the safe word ask for haitham ayato and wondering if it's ok to ask for a kaeya and diluc one? 🥺👉👈 only if your ok with it ofc 🫣
cw. saying the safeword, fem! reader
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— kaeya
a bone rattling blow crocheted itself into kaeya‘s limbs and muscles faster than in any other occurrences prior.
yet, surrounded by the split second of your breaking utterance, the grueling moment compressed inside his brain the very moment he perceived your cries, kaeya never thought he would ever have to hear it from you— and a freezing coldness washed over him, strong enough to risk him breaking down in front of you.
beyond everything, he works swift to press himself off you and gather a blanket to cover your quivering body, but right now, kaeya doesn't say a single word to you, not before he's certain you're comfortable in your current location.
then, he forces himself to say something, even though his throat was pulling against it, tugging at the twitching limbs, "a-are you okay?"
sticking to the facts, he would love to smack himself in the face right now for a question this idiotic, at least he himself thought it was— you on the other hand nodded frantically while leaving your eyes shut, a mirage of crystallines sticking around your soused lashes but, step by step, fading away.
you sniffle while messily rubbing your eyes, "can you hug me?" and you're hesitant when you speak your sudden needs, although you do not have to. kaeya, your sweet kaeya, was quick to react, quicker then before as he silently plunged himself next to you— lifting his arm before helping you lean into him.
you do not remember the last time you sensed his heart in that manner, as it beat violently in his chest, it shattered your mind, for the first time full on recognizing his own fragility.
"i'm okay." you say, "i'm okay kaeya, i promise." but, you're his love, in his eyes, you are worth his life and all that he had left was you.
nonetheless, you do not see how he was beating himself up internally, all you witnessed was a trembling "I'm so sorry."
an utterance, while quick to spell out, it held a significant meaning to it, over and over he whispered it, sometimes accompanied by tears and cries, until you fell asleep surrounded by his strong arms.
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— diluc
a mind numbing silence— one, which had followed the second you proclaimed the hurting safe word, when it emitted beyond the limits of your own voicing.
diluc‘s hips haltered immediately and his eyes blew open wide, dead and buried. you were his fire, producing the scorching hot flames that breathe all the more deeply for being closer together.
sincerely, diluc was ashamed of himself, he begins to doubt himself and if he was even worth it, at all, primarily that he ever let it go that far.
"love.." he whispers, breathing deep through his nose as you felt the weight of his large palms pulling you off him, "take your time, p-please, take your time, okay?"
diluc moves himself away but sinks down next to you, he sees it too, when you flinch at the slight spasm of pain and hurting, a clear suffering he was the sole reason of.
tears befell his eyes, sticking to his flesh, but diluc doesn't show them to you— not because he was embarrassed of it, it's more that he did not want to waver any attention towards him, this was about you and he needed to be here, to console and kiss away all your pain, if you let him of course.
you see, the man does not touch you, not anymore, at least not before you tell him it's alright. boundaries and the ability to listen were a huge cornerstone he never would've even dreamed of crossing, what he does was being content and aiding you to be comfortable within the warm closeness of fresh silken sheets.
"i think I'm fine now." you breathe a transparency out of your mouth, sloping an inch into his chest to signalize that, yes, it was okay again, that he was allowed to place his hands on you now— but your lovers heaves twitch at the mere sensing of your cheek against his chest as diluc feels how a cold sweat runs down the entirety of his spine.
"i apologize, i'm— I'm so sorry." he takes you gently in his arms, "and i will never let it get this far again."
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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whereireid · 1 year
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
series masterlist | avatar masterlist
pairing: tonowari x omatikaya!fem reader
Summary: After mating with Tonowari, you experience a glimpse of domesticated bliss. Grateful that you’ve chosen a doting mate, you bask in your relationship, despite the insecurities that plague you regarding his old mate, Ronal. After you confess this to him, he decides to show you just how over her he truly is.
— warnings: age gap (21/yo reader) mutual pining, plot, family drama time oops, mentions of insecurity, reader doesn't feel worthy of being tonowari's mate, fluff, smut, dead ronal, bathing ! nsfw content (bc this wouldn't be a sex pollen fic if it was sfw 🙄) nipple sucking, brief mention of tonowari having lactation kink, fingering, orgasm denial, oral sex [f recieving] p in v, mating, breeding kink.
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There is no longer a fire which blazes within you.
You wonder how there ever even was to begin with. Surrounded by water, your flame should have been snuffed out the minute that it was sparked. The cool breeze of the reef should have blown out the flicker before it began to burn wildly.
The irayo flower — a token of your homeland, beautiful with its lavender purple and tulip pink hues — had a side effect so dangerous that it caused a sickly fever to pulsate through the Metkayina leader. A fever that no medicine could cure. A fever, cooled by only your touch and your touch alone.
Inside of you, there is silence. Despite the fact your face no longer burns with heat whenever you gaze at the Metkayina leader, you still drown in desire and want. Tonowari is sleeping, cocooned by his hammock, a peaceful expression clouding his face as his chest rises and falls slowly, soft breaths leaving his mouth.
You wonder if the sea had claimed you before you had claimed it. You knew your sisters and brothers had no trouble adapting — Lo'ak felt more at home here than he had in the tribunal forests of your homeland, and Kiri felt comfortable and in touch with Ewya wherever she went. Neteyam, the mighty warrior, had adapted quickly to the new hunting rituals, bringing home many pounds of fish, and Tuk had impressively learnt in days how to weave items of clothing by using Metkayina flora.
They'd adapted properly, using their labour to find a way to fit in, and though your family would always be outcasts — with your five fingers a contrast to their four, a constant reminder that you are alien — their labour proved their worth. They were accepted.
Though you're smiling at the thought of your brothers and sisters, your heart tugs — how would they react to the news? When your father had hounded you to find a mate, he surely meant someone more... age-appropriate. Your father certainly did not mean that he wanted you to mate with someone whom he often drank Pongu Lumpia with.
Shaking your head, your fingers close around your robe. It's a maroon red, woven by Tuk with flora she'd found in a cave on the reef. It cocoons you into a shield of warmth, hiding you from the cool ocean breeze which rustles throughout Tonowari's marui. The cold air causes him to stir in his sleep, the coolness a sharp contrast to his heated body.
You watch as he grumbles in discontent, his ears twitching in annoyance, your own flittering upwards in anticipation. "Tonowari," you whisper, edging towards the Metkayina leader, your fingers darting over his thighs when you reach his hammock. "The sun is rising. You must wake soon."
"It has not risen, yet. Come to bed, little one. I miss your warmth."
Tonowari's voice is groggy, ridden with sleep, and you hesitate, your fingers lingering on his strong thighs. "We must tell my parents—"
"—We will tell them later. Join me, for now. We will do whatever you wish when the sun has risen."
You pout in disproval, though you listen. The hammock is comfortable, adapting to your weight as you sink inside of it, and you squeak slightly as Tonowari's strong arms wrap around your frame. "You're so warm, little one," he grunts, his voice rumbling in his chest as he speaks, his nose nuzzling against your own. "It must be because of that robe."
Goosebumps flicker up your skin as Tonowari's hand begin to sneak underneath your garment. His fingers make lewd movements, darting from your abdomen up towards your chest, a shiver ghosting up your spine as his thumb flicks over your nipples, which harden as the cool breeze begins to wash over your frame.
"Would you like for me to take it off?" You moan, and it sounds so sweet that Tonowari's cock throbs with need. Your heart hammers in your chest as his deep blue eyes bore into your own, his finger gently begging to roll your nipple between his fingers.
"I do not want you to get cold, little one," Tonowari mumbles, his breath flittering against your chest as he dips his head, his lips peppering gentle kisses against your skin. "Keep it on."
There's a foreign sensation that crackles through you once Tonowari's lips wrap around one of your nipples. As he gently begins to suck, you gasp, your body jolting towards his as an overbearing feeling of electricity pulses through you. It bites at every nerve, making your body throb with electricity.
"Oh." You mewl, your face growing insatiably hot as Tonowari hums against your nipple, your eyes shutting tightly as he purrs against your skin. "This feels—"
"—Good," he finishes your sentence, pulling away from your breasts, a lewd trail of spit following him. Your gaze flickers down towards him, and you wishes you hadn't even bothered looking, because a moan catches in your throat when you see his swollen lips and lust-filled eyes trailing over your body.
Tonowari's tongue wets his lips, before he dips his head to latch his mouth around your nipple again. It's a strange sensation, to say the least. You've never really explored yourself there before — but now you're really wishing you had.
You squirm under Tonowari's touch, and a moan catches in your throat, but you're unsure of whether or not it actually escapes your lips or dies before it gets to do so. His lips wrap around your sensitive nub, careful as his sharp teeth begin to graze softly against the bundle of nerves, and your hands instinctively fall down to his head, your fingers running over his braids as he laps at your nipple.
Tonowari's tongue skilfully swirls around your nipple, and warmth pools in your lower belly as he begins to grow eager, his hands darting down towards your loincloth. "Please," you beg, though you're not exactly sure what you're begging for. Warmth curls at every nerve inside of you as his fingers disappear under your loincloth, your breath still in your chest as you try to anticipate his next move.
“Breathe, little one,” Tonowari utters, his fingers gently brushing over your slits, the sensation making you melt with warmth.
You nod and try to steady your breathing. Tonowari is still and it's driving you crazy — your hips instinctively buck against his fingers, and a breathy whine escapes your mouth. He shoots you an unimpressed look, and you blush. Once your breathing is even, Tonowari continues. Though the soft flickers of his brows are knitted together and his eyes are somewhat narrowed from your eager bucking, his touch is gentle, his wet, warm mouth wrapped around your nipples, his tongue beginning to flicker again.
Every nerve inside of you is lit, blazing and burning wildly. His fingers gently part your sticky folds, electricity crackling up your spine as he sucks at your sensitive nipples, his eyes lulling shut soothingly.”
"You are going to be even more needy for this once you're carrying our child," Tonowari says, his fingers gliding up and down your slits, satisfied with how wet and needy your cunt is. "Is this your first time being pleasured in such a way?"
"I've never touched myself there before," you admit hoarsely, shivering as Tonowari nibbles at your bud in response, the sensation sending butterflies fluttering through your stomach. "Just my — my, uh—"
"—Just your cunt. I know, little one. I saw everything when we committed Tsaheylu."
Your face blazes with embarrassment, but Tonowari does not falter. You swallow thickly, a whine catching in your throat as Tonowari's fingers press into your cunt, the curling of his digits making you jolt. The unexpected intrusion makes you mewl in appreciation, your hands pressing eagerly against the back of his head, encouraging him to keep sucking.
It's all you want. The sensation feels electric, and it makes you drown in heat. The air in the marui is scorching, making it difficult to breathe, but you focus on the rising and falling of your chest, not wanting him to stop again.
"I forget how new you are to all of this," he chuckles lowly, the sensation vibrating against you, making you mewl. Insecurity tugs at your heart, because you are new to this — but your mate seems so delighted. "You're so reactive. Tell me, little one, do you like this?"
Tonowari bites at your nipple, and you gasp, rutting into his hand like you're in heat. The sensation makes tears bubble in your eyes, because it stings to have your sensitive bud pressed between his two, sharp canines, but you're so wet that it doesn't matter, a sultry twinge shooting through you at the lewd action.
"Yes, I like it," you mumble drunkenly, your eyes blown and dark, your body craving him. His fingers curl inside of you appreciatively, a soft squelch echoing around the mauri, and he grins against your chest.
"Mmm. You're going to love it once you're with child," he states lowly, his fingers slowly working at your cunt, scissoring you open. "If you're this sensitive now..."
He trails off, unable to finish his sentence, and you let out a breathy moan. Between the lewd curling of Tonowari's fingers and the feeling of his hot mouth suckling at your chest, you feel yourself growing blind. Heat flashes through your body, an insatiable warmth pooling in your stomach as your thighs begin to tense, locking his hand in place as he fingers your cunt.
It feels so good. Tonowari devours you; his entire presence sending shocks shooting through your body. It's so deliciously wrong to have the Metkayina leader sending you into oblivion with his sharp teeth and gentle mouth, and you gasp as you squelch and squirm and clench down around his fingers, your moans mortifyingly loud.
"I need to — Tonowari, please, I need to —" you plead, your eyes beginning to grow heavy and your body edging towards numbness as his teeth catch your nipple again, rolling his rough tongue against the bud gently.
"Breathe." He says, tone so sharp that it feels like a knife, your body prickling with heat as your orgasm approaches; hard and fast and heavy, weighing your body down as you begin to tremble and shake against him.
Your eyes are closed so tight that you see stars. Tonowari's fingers curl inside of you as you attempt to take a deep breath, and you wail, the feeling so overwhelming and good that you begin to cry. Your chest is heaving — really heaving, and your lungs burn with the urge to breathe but you just can't, and despite Tonowari's reminder earlier, you’ve forgot.
Your body writhes beneath him. You wriggle, pleading for air because each stroke of his fingers and flicker of his tongue makes it impossible to breathe. You can't even think anymore, so dumb from the hot sparks which shroud your body into what you thought to be unattainable bliss that your nerves grow numb.
"Little one, you need to breathe," Tonowari repeats, but your ears are ringing and you can't hear him because his teeth are rolling over your nipples and he's sucking so good and his fingers are curling inside of your cunt so tortuously. You can't hear anything except for your own blood pumping inside of you and the shameful squelching of your cunt, and you hump against his fingers eagerly.
Just when you're on the brink of cumming, just as you suck in air and begin to shake and convulse, he stops.
You begin to gasp for air, writhing against his chest, your eyes tired and heavy as all of his movements stop. Tonowari pulls away from your chest, his look of disapproval burning through you.
"You forgot to breathe," he says accusatory. Your eyes peek over him, and your breath stills in your chest again. Tonowari's eyes are so blown that his irises are being swallowed, leaving just a thin ring of the aqua-blue around the edge.
"I'm sorry. Felt too good," you mumble breathy, your fingers splayed over Tonowari's head, pushing him eagerly towards your chest. "Please?"
He frowns, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I cannot please you if you do not breathe."
"I will breathe, yawne," you utter desperately, beginning to hump at his fingers. "I promise you I will breathe. Please, Tonowari, I need to feel good."
His lips press against your neck. His mouth is warm and wet, and he suckles slightly, a shiver spreading throughout you as he laps at the skin. Tonowari begins to pepper his kisses down towards your chest, leaving gentle bruises in the wake of his lips, and your body instinctively presses against him as his mouth brushes against your nipples.
"You're so good, yawne," you praise, your eyelids growing heavy as his lips reattach to your nipples, hot sparks exploding throughout your body. "So good to me."
You focus on your breathing this time — in, out, in out, in out. Tonowari's fingers curl inside of you again, and it's back to square one. Except, not really. You're so hypersensitive that as his teeth graze against your nipple, teasing and deliberate, you cunt clenches, and Tonowari grunts.
He's so hard that it physically hurts him. The lavender tip of his cock is leaking with pre-cum, but he doesn't even bother to move in an attempt to fist himself free of the shackles of his own desire for an orgasm. Tonowari is so focused on you and what makes you feel good, which just so happens to be anything he does.
You're appreciative of the fact that he's focusing on your pleasure rather than his own. Tonowari explores you, his tongue darting across your skin, goosebumps rising in it's wake, before returning back to your sensitive, swollen nipples.
Your chest feels so tight. Your heart hammers, pounding, and you focus on your breathing, making sure to satisfy Tonowari. You feel his cock, hard and rigid, pressed up against your thighs, as you try to brush against him but it's impossible. You can't move, pinned under his weight, under the feeling of his delicious tongue which swirls skilfully around your nipples and the curling of his fingers.
"I'm going to —"
"Do it."
You whimper, nodding eagerly at his words, dragging your lips between your teeth. It all feels too good, too much, and you begin to convulse. Warmth spreads throughout your abdomen, your cunt growing even slicker as he fingers you, rolling into the spongy spot inside of you with ease.
It feels like a knot is violently unraveling inside of you. Your breathing becomes unsteady, uneven; manic and quick. The knot feels like it's being ripped apart. Snapped and torn and frayed.
You let go of everything. You feel nothing but him. His touch is ecstasy, and you feel divine, holy as you cum.
The rays of the sun blind you as you come undone around him. Twitching, jolting, shaking. You're blazed with pleasure, dumb with need, and Tonowari's ears twitch eagerly, listening to every moan and cry that spews past your lips.
You blink, hazily, your breathing uneven as his fingers pull out of you, his mouth still suckling on your breasts. Tonowari groans, his hands grabbing at your skin, squeezing your hips tightly.
Confusion clouds you as Tonowari’s hips judder against your thighs, a gasp of realisation slipping past your lips as his hard cock pulls away from your plump flesh. He’s came — his own breathing is uneven and steady, and he’s left a painting of sticky cum against your skin. His ears pin tightly against his head, but he doesn’t seem embarassed at all. It’s like this is a totally normal thing for him.
And maybe it is. But it’s not for you. Your eyes are wide in shock, your fingers still as they press against Tonowari’s chest. His face is now inches away from yours, and he has a satisfied, smug grin plastered across his lips.
“Was that good, little one? Did that satisfy you?”
“You came.” You say, bewildered, your hands shaking as they press against his chest, your brows knitted together in confusion. “How — Why did you —“
“Your pleasure is my pleasure, yawne.” Tonowari mumbles, and the term of endearment makes your heart soar. “This is not unusual for me.”
As always, you frown. Tonowari is referring to his previous encounters, with his previous mate. Jealousy pricks at your heart and you can’t help but wonder how you’re going to fill such big shoes. You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the feeling of his fingers pinching you cheek, and you scowl, your tail thrashing behind you.
“You like making me feel good?” You ask timidly, eyes crinkling as the sun blinds you, hiding yourself in Tonowari’s chest.
“It is what I enjoy doing the most. Pleasuring my mate is my greatest pleasure.” Tonowari affirms, shooting you a loving smile before his head turns to the entrance of the mauri, his eyes squinting from the sun. “I wish we could continue, little one, but the sun has risen.”
The sun has risen. You pout, somewhat disappointed that it can’t continue, because your body still feels electric from where he’d been pleasuring you. “It’s time to tell my family about us,” you say breathlessly, and Tonowari grins.
“Yes, it is.”
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The walk back to Tonowari's marui is solemn. Whilst your father had disapproved, at least at first, he'd shrunk into himself once you'd told him that you and Tonowari had committed Tsaheylu, now bound together for life. It's somewhat ironic — Jake Sully cannot criticise you for who you'd chosen your mate to be. Your father had not only stolen your mother from Tsu'tey, a mighty warrior of the Omatikaya, he'd also been actively working against your community and your culture when doing so.
Eventually, your father accepted. Although he almost keeled over in the process, he'd accepted.
Tonowari didn't celebrate the way you thought he would. He just nodded his head and thanked your father for approving, and then turned heel and left.
And you'd followed him.
That's how you've ended up here.
The floor is almost scorching, and you shuffle forwards in discontent. Despite living in Awa'atlu for a few months, you still haven’t quite gotten used to the insatiable heat. You feel sweaty, uncomfortable, and your heart tugs as your mate pulls you towards his marui, your eyes flickering over towards him.
He hadn't even celebrated. Maybe it was because he knew your parents couldn't exactly deny you of him — Ewya had approved of your bond, and he is also Olo'eyktan. This is his clan, and you are his mate.
But... maybe that wasn't the case. And you don't want to think this way, you truly don't, but a little voice is in the back of your head is telling you that he didn't celebrate because he'd been through all of this before. Tonowari, perhaps, didn't celebrate because he had no need to — he'd been mated before, with Ronal, and he'd probably went with her to tell her parents, also. And he'd probably celebrated then, because she was the love of his life and she was supposed to be his mate forever.
You grimace, pushing your doubtful thinking away. You know of Ronal. She was a strict Tshaìk, yet a loving mother. A fierce leader. Her connection with Ewya was strong, and your heart pulls in your chest as Tonowari's fingers intertwine with yours.
There's an ounce of comfort in the small gesture. Safety. Your ears pin backwards and you look away, your eyes fleeting over every grain of sand as an excuse to not look at him.
The reef is booming with life. Children run, and parents chase them. Nobody even looks your way — Tonowari had promised you that they wouldn't. Until your bond is announced, nobody would think that you were both seeing each other, rather just assuming that he was just guiding you somewhere.
When you see the familiar, curvy triangular shape of the marui, your ears prick upwards. You try to stop at the entrance, needy for rest, but Tonowari's strides don't falter, until your hands slip from one another's grasp.
"Why have you stopped, little one?” Tonowari asks, his voice gentle as he eyes you suspiciously.
You hesitate under his pointed gaze, shuffling on your feet. "I thought we were going back home."
"I have something I want to show you," he utters, offering out his hand. "Come on, little one.”
"Where are we going?”
"I will show you. Come on."
You pause, eyes flickering from the marui to your mate, before you begrudgingly accepting his hand. Despite the two of you both being Na'vi, the size difference is overwhelming — Tonowari towers over you by a couple of feet, and his hand is so big that it sheathes the both of yours.
Minutes pass, and there is only silence. There is no conversation shared between the two of you. Tonowari holds your hand proudly, guiding you towards the rocky reefs. The slippery surface of the rocks makes your heart patter in your chest fearfully — you still hadn't quite gotten used to the feeling of slimy seaweed on your feet, and your hesitant steps are proof of that.
"You have not yet adapted," Tonowari chuckles, his grip on you strong as he guides you between two rocks, that stand tall and mighty.
"It's not that easy." You mumble, shivering as cold washes over you as the rocks begin to hide the sun.
He smiles. "You will learn soon, little one."
As your eyes adjust to the loss of sunlight, you can't help the awe that tugs at your heartstrings as you realise where Tonowari has taken you.
In your homeland, there was no such thing as a private, docile place to clean. All of the Omatikaya, including the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk, used a communal lake to bathe. Although the clan leaders were allowed to bathe alone, the others bathed together. There was just simply not enough water in the forest for the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk to have a personal, intimate area to clean and bathe together.
But here — in the reefs — there is nothing but water.
"What is this?" you whisper, your skin crawling with goosebumps as Tonowari presses his lips to your forehead gently.
"What do you think?" Tonowari quips back, watching as your nose crinkles as you breathe in the husky, earthy smell, your eyes scanning over the deep, pear-shaped entrance of the shelter.
There's something so intimate about how Tonowari guides you. His hands are resting on your shoulders, eagerly pushing you towards into the cave, your eyes falling on the downwards curve of the floor, which transcends into a pool of milky, steaming water.
"Is this yours?"
Your mate smiles, his nose nuzzling into your neck, his fingers slipping down towards your loincloth, gently beginning to untie its knot. "It is ours," he states, his face illuminated only by the blue and green bioluminescence moss which laps at the sides of the pool. "I heard from your father that in your homeland, the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk did not have their own private bathing quarters."
"When did you hear that?"
"JakeSully loves to complain when he's intoxicated. Pongu Lumpia makes him even more insufferable than usual," Tonowari grunts, smiling as your loincloth drops to the floor, leaving you bare in front of him. "He feels that as Toruk Makto he is worthy of privacy."
Tonowari's freckles are glowing in the dim light of the cave. “I say that he gave up the title of a mighty warrior when he fled his home.”
You try not to giggle, but it’s really, really hard. Tonowari has always been critical of your father, and his small joke actually allows you to bask in a sense of comfort.
Warmth cocoons you as he ushers you into the pool of milky water, watching as you submerge yourself. The silky hot water is perfect, and your face flushes with a light sheen of sweat and embarrassment as your mate begins to undress himself.
He stands so proud as he shows himself to you. You feel warm and gooey as he traipses into the water, and you try to focus on anything but him. There’s a slight lingering feeling of dread which pulses through you, ruining the slightly intimate moment, because you know deep down that Tonowari had shown Ronal this exact cave before.
The cool, fluorescent algae illuminates the cave, and there's a low, bioluminescence glow shining from beneath the milky substance in the water. It's beautiful in the cave, and pieces of moss glow like stars above you.
Your heart tugs in your chest as Tonowari's hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer towards him in the water. "What is on your mind, little one?" He asks, pressing a soft kiss to your wet temple, his lashes long and damp, soaked from the water. "You have been quiet ever since we left JakeSully’s marui."
The blissful solitude shrouds you, and you let your head hang on his chest, which has a shines turquoise from the water. "Nothing. I'm fine, Tonowari," you mumble, shooting him a gentle smile as he embraces you, his braids sticking to the wet skin of his back.
"You do not seem fine," he grumbles, careful as he picks up some circular moss which resided on the rocks. He squeezes the soft green plush, gentle as he begins to excrement soap from it, rolling it between his fingers. As soapy duds begin to form, he hums, rolling the moss against your skin, using gentle circular motions when he washes you. "Do you wish to tell me what is bothering you, little one?"
Tonowari's interaction with your father keeps replaying inside your head. Everytime it repeats, your heart pulls, cracks in half, and you can't tell if you're being dramatic or emotional or what. Tonowari hadn't reacted, he hadn't celebrated, he hadn't even smiled when he got your father's approval.
Because he'd been through it all before. With Ronal.
As he's washing you, soft in his motions as he rolls the soapy moss against your skin, all you can think about is how he's done this before with someone else. It plagues you. It's like a sickness.
"Yawne, I cannot help if you do not say anything," he says softly, beginning to cup the milky water in his hands, his ears twitching as the water trickles your skin.
“How are you over her?”
“Over who?”
“Ronal.”
Tonowari pauses for a brief second, before continuing to wash the duds off of your skin. Your voices echo around you, bouncing off of the cave walls, and your face flushes when his hands gently begin to massage your shoulders.
“She died a long time ago, little one. I cannot live in solitude and mourn any longer. She is with Ewya now.”
“But you’re supposed to mate for life. You’re — you’re still here. She’s still your mate.”
Tonowari frowns, his motions gentle and circular, his thumbs riding down to your back, focusing on a tight knot between your shoulder blades. “You are my mate.”
The silky hot water mixed with Tonowari’s fluid motions is an incredible soother. You feel like all of your tension is melting away, and despite the self-doubt and insecurity which flitters throughout you, you find yourself relaxing.
“But so is she.” You’re exasperated, confused.
You knew Tonowari had been mated before. You knew all of this before you chose him.
So why now, when you’re in too deep, are you having second thoughts?
“You are my mate.” Tonowari’s voice is soft, fleeting against your ear. “Do you need me to remind you of just how badly I want you, little one?” His breath fans against your skin, sending goosebumps down your spine and your stomach flips at his words.
You shake your head, a gentle gasp slipping past your lips as Tonowari turns you, his grip on your shoulders harsh as he does so. His palm squeezes your skin uncomfortably, and your breath hitches in your throat as his eyes bore into yours, so black and blown that the ring of ocean blue is barely visible.
“No, Tonowari. I don’t need a reminder.” Your voice is hoarse as you speak, wavering slightly as Tonowari’s nose nuzzles against your shoulder. “I know I’m your mate.”
“I do not think that you’re aware of how badly I’ve wanted you, little one.” His fingers dance against your skin, and his arms become submerged by the hot, silky water. Tonowari's hands cup your thighs, his body ushering you to the edge of the pool, and you squeak as you feel mossy rocks press against your back. "Ever since you came to the reef, I have not been able to keep my eyes off of you, and the second you gave me that irayo flower... it was the greatest excuse to get close to you."
"Excuse?" you murmur, breathless as his strong arms sit you against the rocks, his nose rubbing against your inner thighs. "What do you mean, excuse?"
Tonowari's teeth graze against your skin and you whine, your heart pitter-patting in your chest as his rough tongue laps at your skin, leaving dark-coloured bruises in its wake. “It hurt, yawne, more than you’d ever know. And like I told you — I was rutting like a newly mated Na’vi, and the only relief I got was when I would see you, and that is when I knew you were sent to me. From Ewya.”
“Oh,” you breathe, your heart tightening in your chest as Tonowari’s lips press against your cunt. His tongue laps at you eagerly, the rough muscle parting your slits, and a gentle whine slips past your mouth as he does so. Hot, electric sparks shoot up your skin, and your legs jolt slightly as his tongue swirls gently around your clit. “Tonowari.”
“You wonder why I chose you,” he purrs against your cunt, the vibration sending shockwaves through your pussy. “I wonder how you could ever choose me.”
The intimacy of Tonowari between your legs makes your stomach clench. Despite being recently mated, he hasn’t had an incredibly high libido — you haven’t snuck off to rut at every possible chance, rather having an even and steady sex life. But this — the way he’s nuzzling against your cunt, licking and lapping and sucking at the heat sloppily shows something different a
A primal side to him you haven’t seen before.
He's grunting, and you look down for a second, confused as to why he’s making noses. Then you notice his hand, which strokes up and down his cock in a steady motion. Tonowari is pleasuring himself whilst pleasuring you, and you moan, so conflicted to how a man can make you feel so horny.
Tonowari's tongue draws patterns on your clit, and his breathing becomes heavy as he strokes his cock, his eyes lulling as he laps at your cunt. He's so eager to please, kissing your heat softly, listening to every mewl and whine, and your stomach begins to twist, growing insatiable with every roll of his tongue.
And then you feel it — the knot inside of you begins to break, twist apart, fray at the hem. It's so peaceful this time, so satisfactory, and your moans bounce off of the cave walls as you cum, your hands behind Tonowari's head, pushing his face into your cunt needily. You hump against him like you're in heat, the feeling of his rough tongue stroking you through your orgasm making you shake.
"I must show you how much you mean to me, yawne," he comments, his voice shaking slightly as he strokes his uncomfortably hard cock with need. "Can I breed you?"
"Breed me?" You ask, exasperation lacing your tone as Tonowari joins you on the rocks, his strong hands pinning you underneath his body.
"That is what I asked, is it not?" He utters, his body sheathing your view of the bioluminescent moss which litters the top of the cave, shrouding your vision with black. The only light you have comes from the light-blue specks on his face, and a breathy moan leaves your mouth as Tonowari's cock glides through your slits, an unexpected jolt of electricity shooting up your spine.
"I'm just confused as to why you asked. We've done this before."
"I want you to carry my child, little one," he grumbles, a low groan sliding past his plush, sapphire lips as his tip rolls against your clit. "This is not just making the bond. I will be doing this with the intention of you growing plump with life."
You literally can't imagine anything hotter than being swollen and filled with Tonowari's children. You can't speak, the feeling of his tip rolling against your clit sending electric sparks fluttering through your nervous system. "Please," you squeak out, your heart burning with desire as his girthy tip presses against your entrance, your tight cunt beginning to sheathe his lavender tip.
"You are going to look so beautiful when I'm finished with you," Tonowari hisses, his stomach tight as his hips begin to roll into you, even and steady. "So beautiful, carrying our children, whilst practicing to become Tshaìk. I chose well."
Everything feels raw and sensitive. Your cunt clenches down around him, your senses somehow heightened in the dampness of the cave. Steam from the hot pool of milky water begins to evaporate, your skin covered with an aqua blue sheen from the condensation. Pressure pools in your lower belly, your ears twitching with every roll of his hips, your cunt tight when the tip of his cock brushes deliciously against the sensitive spot inside of your cunt.
It feels so liberating, knowing that he wants you. Truly wants you. You're not just a replacement — each needy thrust of his hips tell you that. Tonowari's fingers desperately grab at your queue, and you whine at the uncomfortably tug, but hot white flashes spark through your nerves system when his tendrils connect with yours.
Holy shit. This feels so much better than when he first ever bonded with you, and your legs shake as he stretches you thin. It's so painful but so amazing. His cock is nestled deep inside of your cunt, and you're so slick, so wet, droplets forming on your skin from where the reside of the water is beginning to dry. Tonowari's movements are smooth, easy, and your white ring of arousal paints the bottom of his length, coating his balls, and he groans as he fucks into you, his lavender tip throbbing as you clench around him tighter.
"You're made for me," he breathes out, "I cannot believe you ever doubted my love for you."
Through your connection, you can feel his pain. You can feel everything — the pull of his heart as he thinks about how insecure you'd been, and you scold yourself for ever being so silly. Tonowari, your gorgeous, loving mate intertwines his fingers with yours, and you swear you've never felt so good in your life.
You're intertwined with Tonowari in every way possible. Your cunt pulses around him, throbbing with need, and he groans into your neck, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your shoulder. "Oel ngati kameie," he mumbles, his eyes boring into yours, the black of his pupils so wide and blown you can no longer see any part of his irises. "Yawne, please, talk to me."
"Feels good, Tonowari," you blink, chest heaving as he fucks into you, being careful to focus on your breaths as your body begins to tingle with lust. "Almost ready for you to fill me up."
"Pxasìk," Tonowari curses, his accent thick, drawling in your ear and sending goosebumps exploding on your skin. "I'm ready. You're so — so tight, I can't hold back."
"Earlier all you did was hold back," you tease, moaning as the lewd squelching sounds of your cunt echo around the mossy cave. "Not — not letting me finish because I didn't breathe."
Tonowari is gentle as he slaps your thigh, warningly, a dangerous look painting his face, but it crinkles into something different as you purposefully clench down around him. You're so tight that it's like you're milking him, and you're so wet and warm, it's driving him crazy. "You were being naughty, yawne," he comments, his voice wavering as your eyes begin to flicker shut, your moans hitching in your throat as his hips roll into your sensitive bundle of nerves.
It's the most perfect thing you've ever felt. Neither of you speak as it happens, your orgasm crashing over the both of you in a perfect, delicious wave. You shake, jolt against him, cry out as your vision blackens with white stars, heat exploding through your body, your cunt tightening around him as you feel his seed begin to spurt inside of you. his own cum in you, your walls so tight and wet, the sound of his balls slapping lewdly against your cunt echoing throughout the cave, your moans merging with them to create an orgasmic mixtape.
You're so warm, the steam from the pool mixing with your insatiable heat from being crowded by Tonowari for so long, and he embraces you proudly as you twitch beneath him, your cunt feeling raw and full. He holds you, and his strong presence makes you feel so safe, the feeling of his cum painting your walls making you shiver.
"You are everything to me," he utters, his teeth grazing your neck as his tongue laps at your skin, basking in the slight, salty taste of sea water and sweat. "Please do not doubt that again."
"How can I?" you whisper, grumbling as Tonowari rolls over, positioning you atop of his chest as he lays on the mossy rocks. The blue and green glow from the algae and moss reflect on his face, painting his features, and you smile as you lean down to brush your nose against his, your finger splaying over your belly. "I'm going to have a constant reminder."
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taglist: taglist: @moonpie3000 @theycallmesia @lianawolf @love-chx @yataisha @misscaller06 @plzfeedmebread @totesnothere04 @alezarin @thesecretsoftheuniverse @ikranwings @clockmax @lianawolf
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alastorsfuckassbob · 5 months
Text
You're Never Fully Dressed-
Alastorxfem!reader
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oh boy everyone's favorite! Please I have never written before, I just figured I'd give it a shot it was 1:35 and I was not feeling sleepy so an hour later here it is, its not edited so SORRY ABOUT THAT- all of my friends are normal and would definitely not proof read this hot garbo!
Basic Plot!! Yikes another song fic i know i KNOWW, the reader knew our good pal Al in her life but oopsies he "left" her (he died duh) and now shes taking a sad hot girl bubble bath to reminisce!!
Lyrics are bolded, past events Italics for the most part.
ALSO Please DNI if you're a minor k thanks bye!! You are responsible for your own internet consumption, so here are the warnings! If you don't want to view that ✨dont✨
Warnings include:
-Swearing
-Violence
-Alcohol Use but not abuse! (its hell duh)
-Abusive Relationships
-Slight Innuendo but not a strong one!
-Angst
The fire danced, flitting left and right. It was different than any other fire set in hell, it wasn't meant to hurt anyone or destroy anything. It was just a small flame, melancholically melting the dripping wax down the white lilac scented pillar. Floral scents were hard to come by unless you made them yourself, it was hell after all, its not like theres a flower garden planted on every corner. The candles single wick didn't produce more than a drop of light. It just flickered every now and then, entertaining its own little lonesome sway. Your demeanor softened as you looked at it from the petal filled bath you currently resided in.
Oddly you felt at peace, understood, almost comforted. You had learned to dance the same way it seemed. You caught yourself when you fell, twisting and turning to please an audience. It was a cruel existence. At least the flame looked content in some way, at least it would never know what it was like to contort under the will of another. Yet it was still a light in darkness, shining for no other reason than to survive...All it could ever do was take, even if it didn't want to, fire needs to burn. To burn it must destroy. You sighed sinking deeper into the bubbly water. You didn't want to think about your past. Not anymore. You didn't have to anymore anyway. Life had not been kind to you and that constant displeasure followed you through your death and into the pits of hell. Funny how suffering could follow biting desperately at your heels and the man who was so "desperately" in love with you in life just couldn't find it within himself to stay...God you sounded bitter. To be fair you were. After all he had ruined your life and he didn't even know it...It wasn't that bad was it? You probably would still be in hell regardless, even without his "involvement" or lack of- you had always been a sinner. It wasn't worth it to be upset, not anymore he's most likely dead, you definitely are, whose to say if he'd even wind up down here. You paused a moment, laughing at the silly conclusion overthinking had led you to.. no that fucker is definitely in hell. Sweet as he was up front, he had a dark side that went much deeper than his soft exterior could cover. You closed your eyes..
1923- Central New Orleans
Suddenly it was 1923. The flower lined streets of late spring in New Orleans. His smile never wavering as he dragged you from store to store. As your dear companion, and biggest supporter, he had asked you to assist him at the radio station. Now that you had finished school you would need a job anyway. You'd always had a beautiful voice and a knack for writing. It just made sense. His hand squeezed yours lightly pulling you from your thoughts. In his hands, he held a burgundy day dress and a matching bow.
"Darling, would you try this on for me? I believe it is high time you were rewarded for all of your hard work. I believe you would simply sparkle in this color"
You smile softly at his gentle tone, taking the delicate dress in your hands. You find yourself caught in his eyes. It feels like you two are the only people on the planet
You feel the familiar sensation of tears on your face, you open your eyes again, you hadn't realized you'd started crying.
you let out the shrill scream you didn't know you were holding in. the fluke of champagne you had so tediously been savoring since you began your bath cracked slightly. You downed the rest of the glass, and grabbed the bottle sitting lazily on the floor. You didn't want to think about him or your life anymore...but it consumed you. You had so many more important things to fret about in your..current..environment. Songs to sing, bitches to kill, people to fuck. A grand glorious array of newer shinier problems, and yet you were stuck sulking about the past. You take a deep breath shaking slightly despite the warm vanilla scented water surrounding you. You remove your hand from the water motioning to the shadow hiding behind a vase (of no more than slightly wilted roses). It slinks forward at your beckoning, climbing to the white marble countertop of your vanity, it clicks the worn down knob of your rickety old radio. light jazzy music trickles out and fills the air with lovesick nostalgia you weren't entirely prepared to let in. No matter what he had done...you would always fall back to him. Even if he was nothing more than ill-fated failed fourteen year "endeavor". fourteen years is quite a long time, even if the majority of it was spent more or less platonically. You really did love him. Love doesn't always follow those that leave, you are testimony and truth to that. You let your mind wander guided by the static filled notes of the radio.
Hey, hobo man
Hey, Dapper Dan
You've both got your style
But brother
You're never fully dressed
Without a smile!
Even through the shudder of the static, it really did sound like him. Despite being the "host" of the station. He had his fair share of performances. For such a Hell bound soul he had the voice of an angel.
You close your eyes once again and allow the melody to take you back to an easier time.
1926- New Orleans, Your apartment
You sing along with whatever tune the radio gives you. You're at peace, simply existing for no other reason than to be with your friend.
"Dance with me my little canary, your voice lights a fire within me"
He pulls you in by the waist. His hands splayed across your hips holding them with a gentleness you'd never expected him to hold for you. He leans his head down against the yours and places a chaste kiss on your forehead
"Alastor" you giggle, the sensation tickling you slightly. "You are quite ridiculous"
"Ridiculous?" he feigns hurt. "My darling I am so far from ridiculous the word does not find sense within my ears" he spins you around and into his chest, you roll your eyes ignoring his antics
"Dearest are you aware you are speaking with the future of radio?"
"The future of radio? Please Love, don't jest. The 20s surely have more in store than you" You laugh into his chest and he shockingly laughs with you.
Neither of you know it but you are both so drunk on the sound. To you, his laugh sounds like the swift church bells that used to ring throughout your home town whenever someone got married. It feels familiar and yet like a distant memory. It makes you want to hear it over and over again until your ears stop working, and even then you'd settle in just fine feeling the vibrations of his chest. He sounds like home. To him, your laugh sounds like the rushing creek and smooth algae covered stones resting deep beneath the trees draped in Spanish moss of his mothers cabin in the woods. Just hearing your laugh he can feel the spotted sunlight speckling his freckled face underneath the big willow tree. You sound like home. Everything about you- it felt like home to him. His hands were crafted to hold soft curves of your body. His ears were made to hear your voice and your voice alone. You were purpose, his home. You don't know it, but it is that realization that sparked the idea of marriage into his heart.
That fire was put out not long after.
You at least had those nine years as his friend, three years as his "copain" if you will- and two years as his fiancée...and so many years alone. You only spent 14 years in the company of this man. You had lived before knowing him a good 17 years, and a good long bit after.
Why were you so stuck?
You hum along subconsciously, the objects in your bathroom begin to glow a familiar pink, levitating slightly in the air as you continue to hum. Your ability isn't weak by any means, but for some reason you were. You were nothing in comparison to hells overlords, especially the newest trio of Vs. Your power is so deeply connected to your voice, how can you hold power when it doesn't belong to you anymore? You drift back to the memory of your arrival. Scared, alone, dressed a great deal less than modestly, and equipped with nothing more than a pair of horns, some wings you couldn't quite use yet, and a thin devil like tail. It was only your third hour in hell. You didn't understand the rules. You were playing a twisted game in which you didn't realize you were just another piece of.
Shock can make a person anxious and fear will make them stupid. He was tall and smelled distinctly of cigars, soured whiskey, and something pungently sweet you couldn't name. It burned your nose as you inhaled it. You would become well aquatinted with the smell of lust in the years to come, you just didn't know it yet. It seemed innocent at first, just a simple contract, no different than a job. All you had to do was sing and dance at a club, in exchange for safety. But it was different and it wasn't innocent. He was cruel and yet no different than so many of the men you had dealt with in life. He agreed to your terms of anonymity and thats about it. You had your private life and his life. Valentino never played fair. You didn't know that yet, and now you're hells favorite sinner, a least no one knew it was you. If he had asked you another day later you would have realized you could have probably fended for yourself, with some difficulty anyway. At least you wouldn't have to be in this mess. You wouldn't be fucking six people before noon. You wouldn't be constantly covered in bruises and scars...Maybe you could have found him, Alastor that is. Maybe you could have at least been friends again. Its silly to hope for anything more since your romantic relationship ended...✨the way it did✨
Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly
They stand out a mile
But brother
You're never fully dressed
Without a smile!
1931- New Orleans, The river
The two of you sit beside each other in a small wooden row boat. Your hair is tied back with your signature crimson ribbon. He fiddles with the pocket of his jacket. The Louisiana soundscape of crickets, frogs and running water accompanies your conversation. Fireflies light up the air, almost bringing the stars down to your fingertips. With a buzz and a gentle green glow, the small creature lands on your hand. Your smile leaks wonderment and Alastor can hardly contain the love he feels for you.
As a Radio Host, he is quite agile in the way of words, yet something about you has him constantly at a loss. He takes a deep breath, unsure of what to say his voice wavers as he begins to speak.
"y/n, I want to thank you for the effect you've had in my lif-"
"My love look at the stars!" You didn't mean to cut him off, Your arms stretched upwards your face turning to meet his. The stars were so much brighter then they were in the city, it was only natural for you to be excited
"Yes doll, I see them, they're the same as they were last night and many many nights before hand"
You let out an impatient huff
"that doesn't make them any less beautiful." a mischievous glint hides in your eyes "now wouldn't it be so dreadfully terrible if I got bored looking at you just because I've already seen you before?" You fake a yawn and look at him eyes seething with boredom
"It would be so dreadful considering I was about to propose to you"
There is no other word to describe what you felt other than shocked. You had been an item for quite some time, but you never figured he would stick around (and "seal the deal" if you will).
Tears begin to run down your face rambling small words of agreement and love. You had never expected him to..love you that way. He was who he was, a dreadfully popular radio host, and you weren't really anything more than an assistant. People really only listened for him..yet in this moment, he was speaking only for you.
"I love you so dearly my y/n. If life without you exists I do not want to exist through it"
Who cares what they're wearing
On Main Street
Or Saville Row
1934: New Orleans, Alastor's house
The house was empty. He was gone. Fully and truly gone. It had been a year since you'd seen or heard from him and six months since the birth of your son. It didn't feel like your house, it didn't feel like your life anymore. It was all still his. His things still bled into your side of the closet, his last purchase, a book, dust encrusted and unread. The blankets and pillows set on the couch exactly as you both had left them after falling asleep to the rain the night before he left wordlessly. You found yourself sporting one of his shirts more often than your own...until eventually they didn't smell like him anymore. The whole house used to reek of his signature vanilla smell. Theres nothing left here but dust and the crooked board of the desk he insisted he could build himself "just fine".
It's what you wear from ear to ear
And not from head to toe
That matters
1936- New Orleans; ✨that shitty bar you performed at✨
"Get the fuck up you bitch"
You felt his hand tangle in your hair and pull you to your knees. All you could do was groan in pain.
"I'm so sorry it won't happen again I promise"
You mutter almost to yourself. He rolls his eyes shoving you into the counter smashing a glass in the process. Your vision blurs for a second seeing the glass shards decorating your h/c locks in a halo. You feel the blood trickle down your forehead.
"Do you think anyone else would hire you? A whore with nothing to her name and a useless ugly bastard child from god knows who?" You feel angered at his words. Insulting you is one thing, but your child?
But then it sinks in, he's right. The 30s are a sick decade, nothing progressive about them. No one else would hire you. You are lucky to work here..despite it all. You tell yourself anything is better than living on the streets. The mantra doesn't dull the pain but it makes it easier to put up with. You don't have a choice. You have a child to take care of.
"Get rid of him"
you stay silent unsure if you heard him correctly.
"Get rid of the boy. I don't care if you leave him in a box on the street or kill him yourself"
He reaches for a small silver knife under the bar's counter. He places it against your throat.
" y/n..You won't like it if I do it dearest, besides you are saving him the shame of having a mother like you. At least if he's adopted elsewhere he has a chance at a half decent life" he took a deep swig from his un-shattered glass of whiskey, looking at you with such deep distain.
You had never hated anyone the way you hated that man..But he was right. You would never be able to give your baby the best life. It would never get better because you couldn't make it better. So you found a young couple not to far from New Orleans, they took him in, and he got to be happy. he ended up living a successful life. He still is. If nothing else theres that. You know your own misery doesn't automatically allow others to be happier, but at times its what keeps you going.
Your mind is flooded with more and more thoughts. Thousands of little memories pilling themselves on top of you. Who would've thought, even deceased, even owned by Valentino, even trapped in an ever so violent place, the real plight of hell would be your thoughts. You light a cigarette and get out of the tub. You throw on a dark red robe and sit on the vanity's counter to brush your damp hair. The song continues into a jazzy interlude before it reprises again
Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly
They stand out a mile
But, brother
You're never fully dressed
You're never dressed
Without a smile
You stretch out your wings in the mirror, looking at your demonic self. No matter how many times you catch yourself in the mirror, even after ten years of this hellish existence. It still strikes you as odd. You look more or less the same. The same hair color and skin tone, although slightly more grey. The tail was just fucking weird no matter how long you had it. The song erupts into the finale distracting you from your thoughts. You begin to sing along with it, smiling softly. It really does sound like him. The same pink glow takes over the room as well as your body, Your eyes begin to glow that same soft pink, your hair floating above your shoulders.
Who cares what they're wearing
On Main Street
Or Saville Row
It's what you wear from ear to ear
And not from head to toe
You're never fully dressed without a smile
The last line comes out much quieter than the rest. A sense of sadness overtakes you once again as you realize how pathetic this whole night turned out. You'd spent the whole night "Simping", as Velvette would say, over a relationship that ended decades ago. Yikes. The static from the radio clicks up a few notches, You cover your ears at the sudden noise. You quickly reach for the dial in order to turn off the device..And then you hear it. You hear him.
"Dearest.." Its almost unintelligible through the static
You think you've finally fucking lost it. Ten years in Hell and you've officially gone "delulu"...another Velvette saying but it feels fitting.
“y/n.”
He called softly, the static in his voice heavy and nearly unreadable.
You almost didn't believe it.
"Y/n" He repeats the static fizzling out leaving his voice raw and almost natural. Fuck this was real. You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how to. You weren't sure if he could even hear you..how he would respond? Would it be worse if he did? It had been an entire decade since you fell, All of this time- he never bothered to contact you. Why now? Why so much later?... Had he forgotten about you? Did he just..die? You cant discern which is worse...that he had left you and your son and lived a long guilt free life...or that he made no attempt to even speak to you in the decade you had inhabited the same existence.
Ok that was all like exposition and shit..considering part two but I AM VERY TIRED RN
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deadlynavigation · 3 months
Text
Pretty & Pink
Warnings: swearing
Author’s Note: request from @cecebabs !! school has been kicking my ass lately so just bear with me yall 🥲
Navigation
**gif is not meant to be a representation of what reader looks like**
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Opposites attract—or at least, that’s what they said. Wednesday had never put any stock into the saying until he met you.
You were a bright little thing, full of happiness and hope and all the other disgusting emotions. But Wednesday endured, because at the end of the day, you held his heart in your manicured hand.
Every once in a while, though, he’ll question what he’s doing. Like tonight, for instance. It had been a long day. The errands that had been piling up over the week were finally accomplished a few hours ago, and it was exhausting. So exhausting that all he wanted to do was collapse in the nearest bed, no matter the owner or location. And since you didn’t want your partner to end up in some alleyway mattress, you dragged him over to your apartment, where he was currently camped out on your bed.
“You doing okay in there, sweetie?” You call to him from your bathroom, hands dripping with water as you rinse your cleanser off.
“Yes, my love. Are you done yet?” Wednesday calls back. He knows his question is in vain, though. Your skincare routine is a long ordeal, and you’ve only just started.
He hears your soft laughter float through the air. “I’ll be right out.” You respond, picking up a serum.
Wednesday decides he can’t wait, heading into the bathroom and settling behind where you stand. You greet him with a smile, picking up the next step of your routine to show to him.
“It’s a new moisturizer I got today,” You explain. “It’s supposed to be good for dry skin, and with all the nasty weather lately…”
Wednesday doesn’t hear the rest of your rant, focusing instead on those pretty eyes of yours. Oh, how he longs to drown in them. To sink into their depths, seeing the world from your hopeful view. Unpacking all your thoughts, understanding and empathizing.
Listen to him. He’s practically a puddle of mush. What have you done to him?
“...Wednesday, baby?” You tilt your head as Wednesday snaps back into reality. “Were you even listening?”
He takes one more second to stare at you before sheepishly shaking his head. “Deepest apologies, cara mia. There are simply too many pretty parts to you, I cannot focus on every one of them at once.”
You giggle, a blush tinting your cheeks. “Maybe I should turn away, then. Stop distracting you with my wiles.”
Wednesday smirks. “Turning away from me would entice me even more, Y/n. You really want to play that game?”
“Oh my god. Ok, I’m not facing you anymore. You’ve lost that privilege.” Your cheeks are on fire now, and if you maintain eye contact any longer, you’re worried you might burst into flames. True to your word, you pivot to face the mirror. Then, using your arms, you hop up onto the counter, climbing into the sink for an optimal view.
Wednesday nearly has a heart attack as you jump. His hands fall into place, ready to catch you or save your head from a nasty bang should your acrobatics go wrong, but once you’re in place, he sighs loudly.
“Must you do that, my love?” His seriousness is ruined by a smile creeping onto his face.
“Sorry, can’t hear you. This moisturizer requires my full attention.” It’s hard tamping down your own smile, but the teasing seems to be worth it as Wednesday’s stare darkens.
“The moisturizer gets your attention, hm? That’s a dangerous game, cara mia.”
You don’t respond, instead dipping your finger into the container and dotting it on your cheeks.
“Come down from that sink so we can see who really has your attention right now.” Wednesday taunts you. After a couple seconds, you give in, closing up the product and carefully setting it down before jumping back down onto the floor. Within seconds, Wednesday takes a step and sits on the edge of the bathtub, grabbing your hands and gently tugging you along at the same time. Before you know it, you’re sat on his lap, a smirk on his face and a shocked look on yours.
“Attention still on skincare, love?” Wednesday teases.
You give up on the facade. “No,” You breathe, leaning in. “But what if I share my attention with it?”
Wednesday’s eyebrows furrow as you get up, reaching into the bottom drawer of the counter and coming back to him with a small package. You sit back down, ripping it open and tossing the top in the trash.
“Want a face mask?” You ask.
“Is that one of those grotesque concoctions that spreads all over your face? The one that looks like a death mask?” Wednesday questions, but you’re already reaching into the package.
“Exactly, baby. Want one?”
“...Sure.” What’s the worst that could happen?
Twenty minutes later, and Wednesday is set up on your bed with no intention of moving. A green substance covers the majority of his face, making him question why he doesn’t let you do this more often. He feels more relaxed than he has in weeks, settled in amongst your many pink throw pillows and cherry blossom sheets. You’re settled in too, resting your head on his chest while trying to sync your breaths with the steady thumps of his heart. Your manicured fingers etch random shapes into his skin, tracing the hard lines of muscle and adding a heart or two every so often.
Eventually, though, the both of you become restless.
‘Wanna start a movie?” Wednesday asks, looking down at your comfy self with adoration.
You look up, meeting his eyes with the same love. “Can I choose?”
“Of course, Y/n. Anything for you.”
An hour later, and Wednesday is ready to commit homicide. Of all the movies you could have picked, you went with Mean Girls. Your defense? “It’s the feminist movement at its finest, Wednesday.”
“It’s… very pink.”
“Yeah, that’s the best part! All the decorations and outfits are amazing. They were actually part of what inspired this room’s decor.”
Wednesday looks around at the brightly colored walls, the pastel curtains, the cute pillows, and even the pink pens scattered across your desk. “I never would’ve guessed, my love.”
You stick your tongue out at him. “You’re just jealous.”
Wednesday chuckles. “Yes, very.” He agrees sarcastically. You don’t dignify him with a response, instead choosing to lay back down on his chest and go back to watching the movie. You don’t get to stay there for very long, though, because a minute later, the timer on your phone goes off.
“Mkay. Time to take this off, babe.” You poke his face mask. Wednesday rises without complaint, heading to the bathroom while you grab some water and a cloth. Internally, though, he’s begging you not to. It feels so nice, and having you apply it was one of the best feelings in the world.
As you start working through the layers of the mask with water and a gentle hand, though, Wednesday revises his thoughts—never mind the application. This was the best feeling in the world.
As you work, Wednesday leans into your hands. He would have fallen asleep if it weren’t for your whispered promises of comfy beds and pillows and cuddles.
*****
The next morning, Wednesday gets up much earlier than usual. The sun is just barely up, peeking through your pastel curtains and coating the bed in a buttery yellow. You’re burrowed into his arms, tucked safely into his chest with the messy blankets surrounding you. He takes a minute to absorb your cuteness, smiling down at you as he slowly wakes up.
“Good morning, Y/n.” He whispers, not yet wanting to wake you. You’ve reminded him time and time again that the blinking digits on the clock right now are not digits you ever want to be awake to see, and he’s taken that to heart. But he still has to kill time until you wake–maybe a run? He could drop by the gym just down the street that he really likes. Or maybe a chore? The dishwasher still needs to be unloaded.
But those all sound like too much work for this early in the day, so Wednesday settles on just getting you a coffee. A nice five-minute walk and your drowsy smile to greet him when he gets back. Perfect.
Within minutes, Wednesday is up and out. He strolls down the street, taking his time to enjoy the soft sunlight. That’s new, he suddenly realizes–and probably your doing, as well. You’re a fan of tilting your face to the sun, soaking in the warmth, and claiming the rays cheer you up. Maybe you’ve passed that onto him.
A couple more minutes tick by, and Wednesday reaches your regular coffee shop. He enters the place with a little jingle as the door opens, and is immediately greeted with the scent of dark coffee and light chatter.
“What can I get for you this morning, sir?” A too-happy employee asks him as he walks up to the counter.
Damn, what was that drink you really liked? Something with pink in it, he’s sure of it.
“Just two medium coffees, one black and one with that pink flavor, please.” Manners with normies–that’s another thing you’ve unknowingly reinforced with him.
“Our pink velvet flavoring?” That sounds right.
“Yes, that’s it. Thanks.” Wednesday pulls out his card, handing it to the guy.
“Awesome. Name?”
“Addams.”
“We’ll have those coffees right out for you, sir.”
“Brilliant.” With that, Wednesday finds an isolated corner to haunt until his name is called, quickly grabbing the coffees and exiting the building. It’s an even quicker walk back with the warm drinks providing some heat on this chilly morning.
It’s a bit of a struggle, but Wednesday manages to buzz into the building, climb the stairs to your apartment, and work the keys until your door clicks open, all with his hands full. He’s greeted with the sight of you half-asleep on the couch, the news playing softly in the background.
“What are you doing up, love?” He questions, setting the coffees down on the coffee table and kneeling on the floor.
“Wanted to see you,” you mumble, grabbing for his hand and interlocking it with yours. “Was cold in the bed without you.”
Wednesday practically melts. How can one girl be so sweet and caring? So happy?
“I’m sorry, my love. But look, I got you that coffee you like to make up for it.” He gestures to the beverages with his free hand before resting it on your head. He goes about stroking your hair, lulling you back into a dreamlike state.
“Don’t do that, I’ll fall back asleep,” you bat at his hand, trying to get it out of your hair. You were up to see him, not to fall asleep on him.
“And I will still be here when you wake up, cara mia. Go back to sleep. You’re safe here. I love you.”
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indigoflorals · 1 year
Note
hi! can i request a smuit one jj with a reader that has a praise kink please
gravity (18+)
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JJ Maybank x Reader
Sum: You and JJ get high and he reminds you what you’re worth.
Warnings: Unprotected sex, drug use, sex while under the influence of drugs, smoking, praise kink
𖥸
Your best friend handed you the makeshift gravity bong with a low laugh. “You’ve really never hit a gb before?”
Sticking your tongue out, you snatched the water bottle from his hand and inspected it. “Not everyone was a druggie in high school, JJ.”
“Okay, wow, hurtful,” He mocked you, “Anyway, let me help you,” he took the bottle from your hands, “I bet you don’t even know how to use it.”
You began to interject but silenced yourself. You didn’t know how to use it. He wasn’t wrong.
You watched carefully as his nimble fingers packed the small metal piece at the cap with what weed you had provided. After, he pulled a lighter from his back pocket and rolled it to a flame.
“Now,” He made eye contact with you, “I’m gonna light it, take a deep breath, hold it, then breathe out.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ve smoked before, J.” You grumbled, pulling the bottle from his hands after he lit it. Exhaling sharply, you placed the cap to your lips and sucked in a strong breath. The smoke burned your throat and lungs but you held back the cough out of embarrassment.
You breathed out, coughing a few times and your eyes watering.
“Not so bad, huh?” He smiled, taking the bottle to hit it himself.
You coughed. “Not so bad.”
The rest of your night together was spent making corny jokes and passing the bong back and forth between you in his truck. You had never been in a hor box before but this time was certainly relaxing.
“And that’s how I broke Pope’s arm,” The blond laughed, sinking back into the drivers seat, “What’s your best story?”
“Shit,” You breathed, scanning your memory. “Oh I have a fucking good one.”
“Oh yeah?”
You laughed to yourself as the memory came to you. “I was seventeen. Seventeen and super stupid.”
JJ took another hit of the bong before offering it to you. “Weren’t we all?” He coughed.
“Well,” You took a hit, “I was like lose my virginity to Rafe Cameron stupid.”
JJ spun to face you in an instant and you burst out laughing at the shocked expression on his face. “No shit? How long have we been friends and you didn’t tell me?”
“It was embarrassing!” You protested, placing the water bottle in a cup holder, “I didn’t want you to think differently of me.”
He was silent for a moment. “Different? I’d really only feel bad. I’m sure he treated you like shit.”
“Fucking tell me about it. What kind of guy does absolutely zero foreplay?” You huffed, reclining back to put your feet on the dash.
The blond didn’t respond, only stared at you for a moment before looking away.
“What, JJ?” You asked, sitting up to lean toward him. “Jealous of me fucking Rafe?”
Okay. You were certain you were way too high now. This was your best friend. Why would you say that?
“Not jealous,” He turned to face you, eyes locking with yours, “Just upset he couldn’t make you feel good like you deserve.”
You felt a flush of heat to your core at his words. Certain that your cheeks were dusted pink, you turned away. “Fuck why are we even talking about this. I’m too high.”
JJ turned to you with an expression that only made your panties wetter. His face scanned yours and his eyes ran up and down the expanse of your body. “You’re fine, baby.”
At this point you were definitely shaking from the nervousness of being this close to someone so attractive. You had hardly thought of JJ as more than a friend before today. Suddenly the feelings of attraction were clearly mutual.
“Do you wanna get in the back?”
You didn’t hesitate to nod, scooting up onto your shins to climb over the divider into the bench of the truck. JJ followed immediately after and wasted no time pressing his lips to yours.
The kiss was like an attack. There was a hunger behind it. It was filled with lust and need and the feeling of doing something so foreign with someone so familiar was strange.
His tongue swiped your bottom lip and slid into your mouth. He tasted then of weed and mint, and you made a note that you liked it.
The blond pulled away, sliding his face into the crevice of your neck. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He moaned, kissing your neck.
His hands slid up your chest to palm at your breasts. You leaned back into the door to give him more room, and he slipped a hand under your shirt to feel you over your bra. You arched into his touch, his palms cold on your sensitive skin.
Pulling away from from your neck, he leaned back to reach for the hem of your shirt. He pulled it upwards, careful to go slow over your breasts to drop them and watch them jiggle. When you were completely shirtless, he only stared, watching the way your tits pooled over the cup line of your bra.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He groaned, leaning in to suck and plant love bites on the top of your chest. You reach behind yourself, thinking at the clasp of your bra. After a few distracted tries, you unclipped your bra, your tits falling outwards.
JJ places his face in between them and motorboated you. “Oh my fucking god they’re perfect.”
“Stop.” You giggled. “You’re so high.”
“Nah.” He kicked one nipple, sucking it and releasing it with a pop. “You just have the best fucking tits.”
He continued to suck on your tits while working to unbutton your shorts. He popped the button, and unzipped them full before releasing your nipple and pausing to breathe. “Can I take these off?”
“Please.” You moaned. “Need you to fuck me JJ.”
A feel groan erupted from his throat at your words. “Can’t say shit like that.”
You lifted your hips to allow him to pull your shorts and panties down, and he leaned back to undress himself. You watched as he exposed his muscular arms and chest, and pulled out his cock to slap back against his stomach.
“Bigger than Rafe?” He teased.
You slapped his face gently and he crinkled his nose. “Oh shut up.” You mumbled before scooting over fo straddle him.
“Look at you,” He reached a hand to fist at the fat of your ass, “So fucking gorgeous for me. My girl.”
You leaned down to kiss him, and felt his right hand slide to your pussy. Two fingers poked at your vagina while his thumb rolled circles on your clit. You moaned into his mouth as he pushed his fingers inside of you.
He pulled back and you hurried your face into his neck. “Does that feel good baby? You’re so good. Doing so good for me.”
You shuddered, whining quietly when he curled his fingers to rub your g-spot.
“That’s it baby. Just relax into me. Be my good girl.”
His pace against your clit quickened, and you felt a sensation begin to burn in your lower stomach. “J, I’m think I’m close.”
“Look at me.” He spoke softly, and a strong hand came to the back of your neck to pull you. Blue eyes locked with yours as you felt the coil begin to snap. “Cum for me baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my fingers.”
You sobbed as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and liquid rolled down his fingers and onto his thighs. “That’s it baby, so good for me.”
His hand contained rubbing circles into your back as you came down from your high.
The blond placed a soft kiss to your temple. “Think you’re ready for me?”
Your only nodded, too tired to respond.
He lifted your hips gently, lining himself up with your hole. Slowly, he dropped you down onto himself, and you came to life at the feeling.
You sunk your nails into his biceps. “J! Oh my god! Feels so good!”
He moaned your name at the feeling of you clenching around him. “Holy fuck. You’re so good baby. Feel so fucking good. Best pussy I ever had.”
You cried, leaning your face into his shoulder as he contained to fuck up into you. Before you knew it, your second orgasm washed over you in a warm flurry. As you squeezed him, you felt him throb inside you.
“Oh you feel too good I can’t last holy fuck. Holy fuck.” He moaned, whining a bit as you felt him pulse, starting to cum inside of you.
With a strong pull, he lifted you off of himself, cumming on your pussy and thighs. He lowered you down to relax into him, and you cuddled into his chest.
“You did so good baby. I hope I made you feel good.” He rubbed your head.
You hummed in response.
“As much as I don’t wanna move, we gotta go get you Plan B.”
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Text
After All Is Said And Done
Masterlist After the events of the winter holidays and Jamil’s manipulation, you and your friends are left to pick up the pieces.
Warning: I write the reader as female. Also the reader celebrates Christmas.
Includes: Angst, Female Prefect!Reader, Book 4 Spoilers, references to PTSD and depression, Jamil x Reader if you squint, platonic Ace x Reader x Deuce but can be read as pre-romantic
Honestly, after writing this, I’m thinking about writing a version with Riddle, Azul, Vil and Malleus...
You know I'm still standing better than I ever did
Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid
I'm still standing after all this time
Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind
- Elton John, I’m Still Standing
“Hey Y/N, there’s another one,” Grim called out from the doorstep. You can feel your stomach sink, already knowing just what was left at your door.
“Ugh,” Ace groaned in disgust, “you’d think that he’d give up after all this time.”
You mentally agreed. Ever since the incident in Scarabia during the winter holidays, Kalim has been making an effort to invite you to his parties. Eagerly calling out your name whenever he spots you and enthusiastically telling you to come join him, listing all of the food and music he’d love to share with you. You have to admit, you did have a soft spot for the young heir, his genuine wholesomeness making it impossible for you to outright dislike him. It’s clear as day that his kindness is authentic, that he actually does want to spend time with you and wishes to bring you enjoyment. The kicked puppy look he gives you every time you politely turn him down with a new excuse each time does take a stab at your conscience but you can’t help it. Every time you think about the possibility of stepping into that dorm your mind reels with memories of darkened rooms, harsh reprimands, agonisingly scalding marches, banging on doors until your hands bruised and screaming for someone, anyone, to let you out until your throat ached.
“Just burn it, Grim, you know the drill,” Deuce told the feline, his face twisted into annoyance.
“Hell yeah,” Grim crows in triumph, about to summon one of his beloved fire blasts before Ace swiped the ornately detailed paper from his paws and unceremoniously threw it into your fireplace not even giving it a glance as the flames burned it to ash.
“Don’t even bother,” Ace said, “stuff like this isn’t worth anyone’s time and effort. At least it can be used to kindle the fire for s’mores now.”
You looked at Ace and Deuce and you thanked The Seven for having such amazing friends. Whilst the uncomfortable twisting in your stomach still remained, their obvious attempt at helping you definitely alleviated it. 
The previous winter holidays made it clear just how much they cared about you. The moment that they realised that something was wrong, they put aside their differences and used their own resources to personally check up on you. Granted, you would have appreciated it more if they arrived a few days earlier whilst you were still being kept prisoner but the warmth you felt inside at seeing such friendly faces after so long made up for everything.
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When Ace and Deuce had entered Ramshackle with Grim one afternoon to prepare for another impromptu sleepover, with bags of groceries and overnight things in their arms, they were surprised to find it completely silent. Apart from the scuttling and twittering of woodland creatures, the moaning of old pipes and the nervous whispering of the apparitions that lived with you, it was disturbingly quiet.
They felt a collective chill go up their spines, though whether that was due to the lack of heat in this abandoned building, the growing fear that something is wrong with you or the presence of undead spirits huddled up in your living room was unknown.
The ghosts’ head shot up at the sounds of the door creaking closed behind them and the thuds of the boys dropping their bags onto the floor, frazzled worry lining their wispy white non-corporeal forms as they floated towards them. Their clear agitation did absolutely nothing to soothe the trio’s growing anxiety.
“You youngins’ are here for Y/N right?” one of them asked.
“Yeah, we are,” Ace replied, his voice coming out more harsh and aggressive to mask the growing dread.
“Is something wrong?” Deuce’s voice, on the other hand, clearly conveyed every inch of fear that he felt.
“We don’t know,” a taller ghost stated, “we haven’t seen Little Miss in ages.”
“All this time she’s been in her room, without a peep,” another butted in, “it’s been hours and she hasn’t even come down for dinner.”
“And you didn’t think to check on her?!” Ace said angrily, “she could be in trouble.”
“We can’t go in there!” the shortest of them explained defensively, “that’s a lady’s room.”
“And even if we could, what’s the point?” the first one elaborated, “it’s not like we have bodies that can help her.”
“Please go see her,” the second implored, “we’re worried.”
“You really care about her, huh?” Ace noted, seeing the panicked, begging looks that were being directed at them.
“Of course we do,” a ghost stated matter-of-factly, “Little Miss is family.”
“Maybe it’s nothing,” Deuce said after a beat of silence, trying to calm himself and everyone else, “maybe she’s just sleeping?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Grim was quick to jump to that conclusion, any conclusion that wasn’t the fact that his beloved henchman is in trouble, “Henchman’s just conked out. She’s fine.”
Despite his cheery words, he couldn’t help the pit forming in his stomach, a deep hole that not even tuna could satisfy. The three of them looked at each other before running up the creaking stairs, with Deuce throwing the ghosts a quick thank you. As they reached the top and made their way down the corridor and towards your bedroom, they could faintly hear the sound of rushing water getting louder and louder. In spite of the darkness enshrouding the passageway, your room appeared to be fully lit, if the hazy golden glow peeking out from under your door was any indication. 
With a firm twist, Ace banged open the door, completely ignoring the sound of it ricocheting off of its adjacent wall in his hurry to see you, only to find your room completely bare of any life. Noticing that the door to the attached bathroom was wide open, the trio rushed towards it only to stand frozen at the doorway. 
The sight they were met with was you, sitting hunched up in your bathtub, still fully clothed sans your socks and shoes. Your shower was still on, sending streams of water down towards your crouched figure, completely drenching you.
“Y/N!” the three of them yelled, racing towards you. Grim jumped into your arms, getting on his hind legs so that he could paw at your shoulder and face, doing whatever his tiny hands could do to get you to notice him. Deuce did the same, stepping into the bathtub whilst Ace turned off the spray of water so that he could grip your shoulders and shake you whilst whisper-shouting your name. Still, you did not react, the only result of their attempts to stir you were your eyes laxly opening at their sudden manhandling, causing them to cease their jostling.
You looked less like a human and more like a marionette who had been cut from its strings. Your eyes, that were usually glowing with personality, all bright, fierce and lively, were currently dull, glassy and doll-like, all dim and staring without seeing. The only confirmation they had that their best friend was not a corpse were the small, dainty, robotic blinks of them and the way your chest would softly rise and fall. 
“The hell, Deuce,” Ace looked more worried than he did before - and considering the amount of near death experiences he’s been through with you, that’s saying a lot, “what are we supposed to do?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?!” Grim exclaimed fiercely, not moving from where he was nestled against your cold, drenched chest, “Henchman needs you!”
“I know-I know,” Deuce was quick to appease him, “why don’t we start by getting her out of here and into something warm? Then we can figure out what to do.” 
And so he brought you up into a bridal carry. Usually being so close to you would’ve flustered him beyond belief, his shyness around girls amplified around you despite all that you’ve been through together, especially now that the shower water made your soaked clothes stick onto you like a second skin and making certain aspects of your femininity more obvious but his need to help you was far stronger than any bashfulness he had.
He was scared - they all were. To see someone strong enough to fight overblots, to stand by their side and boldly face down the monsters in the mines, to live in this world that they are both literally and figuratively at the bottom of the food chain, so broken was nothing but haunting, a horrific sight that they’ll never be able to unsee.
Ace opened up your closet, grabbing some towels and a pair of pyjamas that he tossed onto your bed, as Deuce carried you to your bedroom, your head resting against the curve of your shoulder before gently placing you down onto your duvet.
“Let’s get you dried up, okay,” Ace cooed at you, smiling softly and speaking with a gentleness that surprised even him. He began to swipe a towel over your sodden frame as Deuce got to work gently drying your hair from behind you and Grim nuzzled, whined and purred against your lap.
“The ghosts told us that you haven’t eaten dinner,” Deuce murmured, “you should change into some dry clothes whilst we go and get you something.”
He got up from your bed and made a move to leave but your hand shot out and grasped onto the hem of his shirt. You continued to look down, not meeting anyone’s eyes as your shaking voice whispered, “don’t go.”
“Y/N, you’re drenched,” Ace said, “and you haven’t had anything in a while. We’ll be just downstairs and we won’t be gone for long.”
“Stay. Please,” your voice was weak and your eyes downcast, “don’t wanna be alone.”
The card soldiers gave each other a look before nodding and climbing onto your bed so that they sat as close to you as possible. You immediately cuddled up to them, allowing yourself to get enveloped by their touch.
“What’s wrong with me?” you whisper.
“Nothing’s wrong with you, Y/N,” Deuce soothed you, gently stroking your head and back like you would a wounded animal.
“Yeah,” Ace agreed with his rival, “it’s everyone else here that’s messed up.”
“Then why,” you did nothing to stop the tears from falling, your words coming out choked from the way your throat was constricting, “then why does all of this keep on happening to me?”
“I don’t know,” the red head sighed in defeat, continuing his ministrations on you.
You said nothing, allowing them to embrace you as you buried your face into their bodies, letting their clothes and Grim’s fur soak up your tears and muffled sobs.
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It didn’t go unnoticed how your companions became even more protective of you after that incident. Wherever you went, they would flank you like guard dogs, shielding you from the rest of NRC and directing a glare at anyone who so much as looked at you. After hearing about how uncomfortable you felt being around certain people, they were on the lookout, not-so-sublty steering your body away from anyone they deemed unworthy of being within your gaze (you could’ve sworn that you heard Grim hiss at some students a few times).
It wasn’t just them. Your family of ghosts also made an effort to check in on you. Even when you couldn’t see them, you could feel them hovering near you in another room, making sure that you looked after yourself, gently reminding you to eat, sleep and rest. They called you over more often to join them in games, sharing stories and jokes, making sure not to mention anything that they felt could upset you.
Your past self - the person you were before your entrance to NRC, a person that now seemed almost like a stranger to you - would’ve found it smothering, almost demeaning at how they’re affections seemed to infantilise you but now, all you can think of is how much their presence comforts you, how loved they make you feel. It made you feel seen and heard, that at least the small handful of allies in your tight inner circle care enough to consider your feelings instead of sweeping them under the rug like everyone else. Like how a few words here and there and a few taps on the wrist were enough to clean up the mess that was the last overblot.
When the dust settled and all was said and done, everyone else partied whilst you were left hurt and broken and once again left to pick up the pieces of your shattered self.
It’s like your body is in constant fight or flight mode, with someone’s fist persistently banging on the ‘flight’ switch. Despite the anxiety and fear buzzing in you whenever you take a step outside, you feel constantly tired, both physically and mentally, your head feels like it’s perpetually submerged underwater and every bite of food you take tastes like sandpaper. ‘Down’ is the only word you can think of to describe yourself. Just chronically down - buried deep, deep underground with no way of clawing back onto the surface. It didn’t matter where you were or who you’re with, all you can hear is your mind constantly screaming at you that you’re in danger. No matter how many times they tried, the combined efforts of your new found family still couldn’t drive away the intrusive thoughts that crept up on you, the dark cloud of foreboding that would hover over you, the cold stare of the Grim Reaper that would follow you. Waiting. 
You couldn’t fault Jamil for his overblot. Despite the pains of your heart, the logic of your mind knew that he wasn’t truly to blame for tossing you to the ends of Scarabia, for leaving you shivering in the freezing blizzard, your body numbing from its close brush with hypothermia, for sending projectile after projectile after you with the intent to maim, the intent to kill, for leaving the imprints of snake fangs in your body as companions to the myriad of other scars that were gifted to you from him and the overblots that came before. It didn’t take a genius to know that everything he did whilst covered in that disgustingly sticky black ink (the ink that will now and forever be a recurring character in your dreams) wasn’t under his complete control, no matter what your nightmares and the sinister voices that would whisper in your ear during the dead of night told you.
But you allowed yourself to blame him for everything that happened before his subsequent descent into madness; for kidnapping you, hypnotising you, locking you up in a dark room against your will, keeping you away from the only people (and ghosts) that actually cared about you and prevented you from contacting anyone. 
You didn’t blame him for wanting freedom, for holding bitterness because of the cards he was dealt with, you just wished that he didn’t sacrifice your wellbeing in his schemes.
Whilst you did hate him for hypnotising you - in this world you already lost so much control of your life, he had to go ahead and take away even more of it - you resent him even more for manipulating you, for feigning affection in a world that gave you anything but, for using you, exploiting your weaknesses and the fact that you had no one apart from Ace, Deuce and Grim to call a friend.
Whilst Christmas doesn’t exist in this world, you made sure to make plans with your family in Ramshackle - you actually had fun detailing all that you were going to do with the ghosts and Grim: coming up with a menu, making or buying hand puppets to create your own Punch and Judy style panto, asking Sam to stock up on this world’s version of Christmas crackers, and just doing what you can to forget the fact that your friends and family are in a whole other world with no way to even give them glad tidings - but instead you spent it marching in the hot desert, contracting heat exhaustion, fainting due to said heat exhaustion when Kalim (actually Jamil) deprives you of any treatment despite your pleads and complaints, slurring your words and vomiting as you tried to ignore the worst migraine of your life and then spending half an hour breaking down into sobbing fits as you were once again imprisoned in that horrid room.
He made you believe that he was a friend, someone you could rely on. When you lost consciousness in the scorching desert, he gave you medicine and treated you to relieve the pain; when you felt confused and hurt by Kalim’s Jekyll-and Hyde-like behaviour and in anguish over not being able to leave, he provided a sympathetic ear and comforting smile as he gave you words of solace. But it was all a lie; you were suffering in the desert because of him, Kalim was hostile to you because of him, you were chased, treated horribly by the Scarabians and locked up against your will because of him. 
All the torment you felt was because of him. 
When you asked the Dorm Leader of Octavinelle and his underlings for help, you felt sick to your stomach, like scorching acid was leaving your mouth instead of words, at the very idea of having to ask the ones who conspired to make you homeless for help. But you had no choice, and the fact that he put you in a position where you had to go to people that you would rather die than ever associate with again makes you hate him even more.
Although, if you had to be honest, in a strange, warped sort of way, you almost respected Ashengrotto for what he did to you. At least he was honest when he stripped you of your home and the only family you had in this world, at least his malicious intentions weren’t hidden when he slyly slid you that dreaded contract - you didn’t even know why you were even surprised when he sent the eels out to harass you in his attempt at sabotage, he might not have invented sleaziness but he sure as hell perfected it. As dodgy as the mermen are, it would be better to have someone that you know you can never trust than one who takes your trust and then crumbles it to sand with his own hands right in front of you.
And Kalim - God, if your feelings for Kalim weren’t the epitome of mixed then you don’t know what is. On the one hand, the genuine warmth he exuded upon meeting you was unprecedented. Unlike the other students in this school, who openly treated you with hostility and malice before you could even say a word, he was the only one good-natured enough to show you the kindness you had missed from your world. Despite the obvious power imbalance, he treated you as an equal, sweeping you away on a magic carpet ride, treating you to the finest delicacies he had to offer, chatting, laughing and playing with you as if you were a person and not some magicless human that didn’t belong. But on the other hand he disregarded everything you went through under his so-called ‘best friend’s’ schemes. All the pain you suffered, all the scars you gained - both physical and emotional - were swept under the rug as Kalim answered Jamil’s public (“and insincere,” your mind adds) apology with an “I forgive you.”
“I forgive you.”
‘I forgive you’ Kalim says brightly and merrily goes out of his way to include Jamil during dorm activities like the Vice Housewarden didn’t do the magical equivalent of drugging and kidnapping you. Like he didn’t play you like a fool, dangling the possibility of friendship, of the companionship that you craved in this strange and lonely new world, before ripping it away from you and stabbing you in the back. Like he didn’t use you as a pawn in his sick, twisted game, literally controlling you and isolating you from any kindness you could get. It didn’t matter that after this you’ll never be the same again. No, of course not. 
Because in this world, you didn’t matter.
It all comes to a head when the Viper himself is the one that approaches you. 
You’re eating lunch in the dining hall when you feel an arm wrap around your shoulders and you get pulled into Ace’s chest. On your other side you can see Deuce’s hackles raise, his jaw clenching and glaring at an unknown individual with barely concealed anger, looking very much like the ex-delinquent he used to be.
“Whaddya want?” Grim drawls boorishly at the source of your friends’ ire, “we’re eatin’ here.”
“I’m aware of that,” the smooth, velvety voice of the Vice Dorm Leader of Scarabia makes you tense, an action Ace must have felt because you feel his hand squeeze yours shortly after. You writhe in place, loosening his hold and giving you enough wiggle room to get out of his grip. With your hand still in his, you turn to look at the interloper, to see what he says next, “Kalim’s hosting a banquet this evening and he’s asked me to personally invite Y/N.”
“Well she’s not coming,” Grim snapped at him.
“She’s busy,” Deuce said.
“And she has nothing to say to you,” Ace interjected, “so you can go ahead and bog off.”
Viper sighs, “I see. If that’s all.”
He turns around to leave but you stop him, “w-wait.”
At this not only he turns to look at you with bewilderment but Ace, Deuce and Grim as well. You continue, “can I please speak with you outside, there’s something I have to say.”
“Wha-Y/N are you sure?” Deuce said, looking at you with worry.
“Yeah, you don’t have to do this,” Ace agreed.
“He doesn’t deserve it,” Grim said imploringly. 
You smiled at him and pet the fur on his head before giving Ace and Deuce reassuring glances, “I’ll be fine. We’ll be just in the corridor outside so you’ll be nearby.”
“Alright then if you say so. But if he tries anything…” Deuce gives the Scarabian a glare, letting his threat linger.
With that you get up and wordlessly walk out of the dining hall and into the empty hallway adjacent to it, knowing that the other was following you without having to turn around and look. You stop at a corner and after taking a deep sigh to brace yourself you turn around and tell him with varying steadiness, “I just want to say that as much as I appreciate Kalim’s generosity and hospitality, I’m afraid that I have to decline.”
“Quite the journey just for one sentence,” he raises an eyebrow, the only expression his inscrutable face allows, “you couldn’t have said this back there?”
“It’s best if I told you this one-on-one just to get it out of the way. Make it clear that I’m the one who told you that I can’t attend and my friends have nothing to do with it. Now if you’ll excuse me-”
“But that’s not all you want to say, is it?” his question pierces you like a blade to your chest, releasing all of the air that was in your lungs.
“Whatever it is you want to say to me,” he intones, his voice as calm and collected and fake as it always is, “I can take it.”
Jamil Viper was many things but an idiot is not one of them. After Kalim’s first five consecutive rejections, he was well-aware that the so-called emergencies, errands and other assorted tasks were just excuses you made to prevent you from outright telling the Dorm Leader that you just didn’t want to attend. He can’t say he blamed you. He understood that you had a less than stellar time during your last visit to the dorm - after all, he was responsible for it. He tried explaining to Kalim that perhaps it would be best to leave you alone but his bleeding heart refused to understand that you were just being polite. He did consider you a friend after all, and truly wanted to pay you back for everything that you did to help him and his dorm during the holidays and to hear your refusals disheartened him, sending him whining about how he wished he could make you happy to thank you for all that you’ve done and make up for what happened. Jamil’s statements that maybe you just wanted to be left alone fell on deaf ears as the young heir decided to send another invite through him. Jamil bit back the remark that he would be the last person you wanted to see and begrudgingly left to do his duty.
“What if what I want to say to you is that the very sight of you makes me sick?”
You’ve got to hand it to yourself, despite having over a decade to fine tune his poker face and hide his inner thoughts, his eyes visibly widened, shock flashing over his features before immediately regaining their usual unreadable appearance.
You would’ve relished at his slip up, that for less than a second you were able to gain an upper hand over the man who toyed with your vulnerability and orchestrated your suffering, if you didn’t have a voice in your head warning you that it could all just be another ploy, another way for him to trap you in his coils and squeeze until you choke.
That’s what snakes do after all. They patiently lie in wait, completely unassuming and unthreatening, before they strike so fast and so viciously that its prey is completely helpless to the onslaught of venom that’s injected into its neck. 
He continues to stare at you, speechless so you continue, clenching your hands in a desperate attempt to stop them from shaking and willing your voice to stop wobbling despite every nerve in your body yelling at you to hightail out of there, to get away from the threat, the danger, that you’re not safe, just run, just flee to the refuge of Ramshackle before you inevitably get hurt again.
“I can’t look at you without wanting to throw up. Every time I see your face all I can remember is  what you did to me, how you used me, how my feelings were nothing but toys for you to play with to make you feel better. You hurt me. In one of the most unforgivable ways possible and I don’t think that I can go back to the person I was before the holidays.”
“You know what?” you laugh bitterly, shaking your head at yourself, “honestly, I can’t say that you’re completely to blame. It was my mistake for actually being stupid enough to fall for your act. If my time in this world taught me anything it’s that I should never let my guard down. I should’ve known that you never wanted to be my friend, that you, just like everyone else here, only care about yourself, without giving a damn about who you have to hurt to get it. It’s my fault for not learning from my experiences, for deluding myself into thinking that someone can actually like me in this damned place. God, I’m an idiot. At least now I know better than to believe your deception.”
“Y/N-”
“Was it fun, at least? Did you enjoy it? Taking a helpless, magicless girl and using her to satisfy your own twisted schemes? Taking my powerlessness and using that as a stepping stool to make you feel better? Manipulating me like your little lamb for slaughter? At least, I can say that the whole experience taught me something and it’s that no one here cares about me, that apart from Ace, Deuce and Grim, I have no one. So I think it would be best to tell your Dorm Leader that unfortunately, I will not be attending. Or not. You could just hypnotise him. Either way is the same to him.”
You turned around and was about to go back to the comfort of your friends, before tossing a few parting words over your shoulder: 
“Congratulations, Vice Dorm Leader Viper, you’ve achieved what you wanted. You said that you did all of that so you can finally have your actions acknowledged - well, here you have it. Now I can’t go a minute without acknowledging what you’ve done.”
And with that you walked away, meeting up with Ace, Deuce and Grim as they wrapped their arms around your shaking body and walked you back to the sanctuary of Ramshackle.
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jflemings · 4 months
Text
— dancing shadows
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pairing: jessie fleming x reader
synopsis: jessie’s made her move to the nwsl but she can’t move on from you
warnings: angst, implications of sex
a/n: there’s no part 2 bc i like a cliffhanger
Shadows of us are still dancin'
In every room and every hall
jessie stirs her coffee gently. her new kitchen is littered with half packed boxes and hope, a lavender and honey scented candle burns in the centre of the countertop, the flickering flame taunting her as if it knows all her secrets. she’s dressed in her new portland thorns training kit with her hair tied back into a neat pony tail and her boots sitting on top of her training bag.
she breathes in deeply and sips her coffee in the silence. she’s done her best to settle, to make this still somewhat empty house feel like home, but she knows that it takes more than her favourite blend of coffee, a candle and a routine to do that.
the truth was that she hadn’t been sleeping well since moving. at first she could point the finger at jet lag and timezone differences but that excuse only went so far. she’d spent her nights tossing and turning in an attempt to just let sleep overtake her before she’d wake up every so often and have to remind herself where she was. she’d get up, get a glass of cold water and take herself back to bed to repeat the cycle of broken sleep until her alarm woke her up in the morning.
nothing had changed until jessie swore she saw your shadow dancing down her hallway late one night.
it was silly, just her eyes playing tricks on her, but for a fleeting moment she could swear that you were right there with her. if she was anymore sleep deprived the midfielder probably would’ve heard your soft giggle echoing off the walls like a sweet melody demanding to be listened to.
the morning after she dug through a box and pulled out the candle you got her as a christmas present two years prior. it was an expensive one, definitely costing more than it’s worth, but you didn’t care. you just wanted jess to have something small, something nice that she could enjoy by herself. she decided to only burn it on special occasions or the night before an important game, like a good luck charm or an offering to the universe.
it now serves as an offering to you and your soul that has followed her across the pond. before, she would spend her nights breathlessly saying your name like a prayer and offering her body instead of a scented candle. nights when her cream coloured curtains would block out the world outside the sanctuary you had made for yourselves whilst tangled in bedsheets.
she finishes her coffee and rinses the porcelain mug, turning it upside down and placing it in the sink before grabbing her training bag and car keys, and blowing out the candle.
the smell of lavender and honey follows her out the door.
You thought that it would wash away
The bitter taste of my fury
And all of the messes you made
she knows that you had been almost furious with her when she left, your eyes betraying the too-wode smile that had been plastered on your face as she stood in front of the team and began to say her goodbyes. jessie understood why you were mad. you had found out at the same time as everyone else that she was leaving, something that she knew you would deem as an act of betrayal.
the two of you weren’t anything official but all the players and staff knew that you only had eyes for eachother. it was something special, like the fates themselves had brought the pair of you together. you both made your debut for chelsea during the same game and had ended up living just two streets apart, something that the two of you figured out after celebratory drinks with the team.
she had let the guilt eat her alive until you’d shown up at her door with more questions than jessie had answers. instead, she took you to bed and apologised with pleasure rather than the explanation that you deserved.
the next morning the canadian awoke to an empty bed and a bitter taste in her mouth.
You'll see my face in every place
But you can't catch me now
you were everywhere.
people couldn’t stop talking about you and how seamlessly you had adjusted to jessie’s departure, in more ways than one.
on the pitch you were bagging assists and executing flawless tackles, but off it you were the subject of many romantic rumours. players from both chelsea and your national team had been romantically linked to you, fan pages and media outlets alike claiming to see you getting too cozy with someone new every other month.
first it was guro, then it was mccabe, followed by alanna kennedy and other countless players that you were so obviously friends with. it infuriated jessie to no end. she had become a mere outsider getting insight into your life through word of mouth and lies.
“jess you can’t get caught up in that shit” christine huffs “it’s all worthless anyway”
“i can’t escape it” jessie defends quietly “she’s everywhere”
christine’s face softens, her light eyes conveying a mix of both worry and pity for her young teammate. she pats jessie on the shoulder comfortingly “she was always going to be”
Through wading grass, the months will pass
You'll feel it all around
I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere
But you can't catch me now
your lingering presence weighs heavily on jessie’s shoulders as she sits on the grass of the portland thorns training ground. the sun kisses her face similarly to how you used too: with warmth and steadiness. she throws her head back and picks at the blades of grass under her, not noticing her long time teammate and friend approaching.
sinc sits down quietly, bending her knees and leaning her elbows on them as she waits for jessie to either acknowledge her or begin to tell her what’s on her mind.
jessie keeps her eyes shut and leans back on her hands “i’m sleeping a lot better, if that’s what you were going to ask”
the older woman smiles “when did you start being able to read people with your eyes closed”
jessie pauses for a moment and opens her eyes, looking directly at christine’s face “i can’t” she says quietly “i just know you’ve been telling janine you’re worried”
sinc purses her lips silently, twirling two blades of grass between her fingers. the veteran’s presence is strong and solid, like an immovable force that can’t be ignored. she sighs “healing takes time jess. especially after a breakup”
“we didn’t break up. we weren’t together” jessie mumbles “not officially, anyway”
“it’s still going to hurt”
the young midfielder nods her head slowly “i can’t escape the feeling of her” she admits quietly, like a small child telling a secret. all of her attention is now focused on her feet in front of her rather than the teammate next to her, not daring to look sinc in the eyes.
“what do you mean?”
jessie hesitates for a moment as she gathers her words “…she’s not even in the country and i still feel like she’s around every corner. it’s like i can feel she’s still mad at me for leaving”
christine sighs and cocks her head “she’s not mad, jess”
“she was”
“yeah, because you didn’t tell her you were moving” sinc says pointedly, making jessie frown “but that was then. this is now.”
jess once again looks up to the sky with her eyes closed, sighing deeply “she won’t call me back”
the two canadians hear footsteps walking back out to the training pitch, popping their small bubble of vulnerability that they have created. the breeze carry’s the light chatter of the rest of their team and the two of them can’t help but smile when they hear janine’s all too familiar laugh get closer.
“she will one day”
Yeah, sometimes the fire you founded
Don't burn the way you'd expect
the way your relationship had gone wasn’t what jessie had expected or intended when the two of you first started seeing eachother.
she supposes that it’s partly her fault. you two were never explicitly together, and you hadn’t had a conversation about not seeing other people, but jessie just couldn’t find the right time. she was constantly so caught up in everything that you were that she wasn’t even focused on the fact that you weren’t really hers.
the more time she spends basking in the new life she’s forging for herself the more she regrets not making it the right time.
because you weren’t together, you hadn’t broken up. the pair of you hadn’t sat down and said ‘this is the end’, she simply just up and left without much warning.
now, she sits in her bedroom that feels more like hers than it did before, clutching one of your worn oversized band t-shirts that she hadn’t realised she’d packed. she runs her fingers over the soft material thinking about the night she’d acquired it.
the tv in your bedroom acts as background noise as jessie lays in your lap, her eyes opening and closing slowly as she attempts to fight off sleep’s warm embrace.
you card your fingers through her hair, wrapping one of her loose curls around your finger “just stay the night, i don’t want you driving home if you’re tired”
“m’ not tired” she mumbles
you half chuckle softly “you’re trying not to fall asleep in my lap jess. you’re tired”
she turns over so that her face is now tucked into your stomach, subconsciously burying herself further into you as she does so. she lazily smiles against your abdomen and wraps a hand around your lower back, inhaling your scent.
“i’ll stay”
“you’ve got no choice” you say quietly before tapping her thigh twice “c’mon let me get up”
jessie groans and holds you tighter “no”
you roll your eyes and gently begin to get up so that she’s forced to let you go. she does so reluctantly, letting you place her back down onto the plush mattress below. she can hear you opening and closing drawers but still makes no effort to move, obviously still comfortable where she is.
the bed dips as you place your knee on it and lean over her, brushing stray hairs out of her face before kissing her forehead lightly “let’s get you out of these clothes”
the canadian rolls over to look at you leaning over her. her honey brown eyes are droopy and barely open but you know that she’s not going to like waking up in the morning in the same clothes she was wearing the day before. pulling her up gently, you place a t-shirt down next to her and grab the hem of the one she’s got on.
“you eager to get me in your bed, l/n?”
“you’re already in my bed fleming” you say smiling as she puts her arms up
“y’know what i mean”
in one swift motion her shirt comes off and you place your finger tips under her sports bra ready to take that off too. she does so herself, her arms flexing as she pulls the material off and throws it somewhere across your room before putting her arms back up.
the oversized band tee falls over her body nicely and you quickly move the covers down to take off her jeans. your fingers make quick work of undoing her button and zipper before she lifts her hips up to help you shimmy off the denim.
“now who’s eager?” you say teasingly
she smiles at you and flops back down once you’ve discarded her jeans, snuggling her face into your pillow and inhaling “still you”
jessie balls the fabric up in her hands and brings it to her nose, breathing in the fading scent of you that has miraculously lasted the trip. a stray tear falls from her eye at the memory of the two of you, the reality of what waiting for the right moment resulted in setting in heavily.
Yeah, you thought that this was the end
she’s sitting in janine’s living room when the instagram post shows up on her feed.
the announcement stares jessie in the face, a haunted look in her eye as she traces your features. she can’t tell if she’s about to get up and run straight out of janine’s house or call niamh and unleash a string of confused curses at her best friend.
this was the last thing she had expected to see, and it was throwing her for a loop.
jessie throws her phone carelessly next to her onto the couch, not daring to look her teammate in the eye as she curiously picks up the device.
a pregnant silence overtakes the room and janine’s eyes are wide with both concern and confusion when she looks back to jessie.
y/n l/n joins angel city fc
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zedif-y · 11 months
Text
…Sometimes, Joel isn’t sure it’s worth it.
It being– well. Him. Which, bloody hell, that just sounds depressing, innit? He’s not– he’s fine, really, in all the ways that matter. Good looking, smart, humble. What’s not to love. He’s fine, great even, so there’s no need for any worrying. No need for that at all.
He just wonders, you know? Everyone does. (Probably.)
But also, he’s phrasing it weird. It’s not that he questions himself, it’s more like… Hm. 
Let’s use a metaphor, all smart-like. Joel thinks of himself as a lot of things: The howling, blood-hungry chase of wolves, the business end of a knife. That razor-sharp feeling of teeth sinking into flesh. A forest fire out of control.
(Yeah, yeah. He’s got issues, whatever.)
That’s not the point. The point is this:
Joel’s more of a hunter than the hunted. At least, that’s what he likes to think– don’t even argue. He knows he’s unhinged, revels in it, thrives in it. Hard to put out a fire without getting burned.
And that. That’s the thing.
Because Joel thinks that sometimes he burns too bright. Like a flame– no, like the sun. A point of pride on a good day, something to hide on the worse ones. Fire doesn’t get to keep things. It burns what it touches, spits out the remains. Charred and blackened and what-have-you.
The thing is he can’t make a home without smelling the faint scent of smoke, ash lingering in the air that makes him cough and wrinkle his nose. He builds a foundation, lays down the plans, thinking maybe, this time–
He’s always wrong. Stupid, stupid. He’s always blummin’ wrong.
The thing about Joel is he’s never held something that didn’t crumble into ash. The thing about Joel is that he doesn’t know when that’s gonna end.
So is it worth it, then? To be his? 
He knows the tight grip of loneliness, the heavy chains of solitude. He knows what it’s like to curl up on the floor with his dogs— don’t you dare laugh— his back screaming at him for the night spent on a cold floor. Loneliness is as familiar to him as bloodlust, but he’d rather rip out his teeth than admit it, swallow his own tongue.
(A thought comes, and it’s stupid– no, really. It’s stupid. Stop asking.)
(Why do people think the moon’s lonely? Joel wonders, a scowl on his lips. The moon’s got like, loads of friends. The stars are right there.)
(You get too close to the sun and your wings melt.)
(Joel tugs at a piece of loose string, and he thinks that maybe the sun just wants a friend.)
(…See, he told you it was stupid.)
Joel doesn’t want to be alone. Alone alone, not regular alone. Nobody does, okay? Sue him, it drove him mad.
Whatever. Whatever.
Joel doesn’t want to be alone, not again, not ever. But he gets close to people and it’s like he can just see them burn, wax pouring down their backs and plummeting to their deaths. He gets close, gets attached, and suddenly everything’s burning all over again, and all he can do is laugh and try to put it out as it sizzles at his fingertips.
Until everyone he loves is swallowed by the sea.
(Maybe a submarine, he thinks, eyes-wide and half-crazed. Maybe that’ll be safe, he should try that next game. He should.)
(Maybe’s better than nothing.)
So yeah, Joel wonders if it’s worth it, having anything at all. He wonders if it’s worth the effort, wonders if it’d hurt less to have nothing to lose– though he already knows the answer, and for goodness sake, he wishes it were different.
Joel sighs. This whole thinking thing is exhausting.
To be his is to burn. To reach out is to doom them. But Joel’s too selfish– too much, too bright, too hungry– not to do it anyway.
…Dammit, this got depressing anyway.
Joel swallows through the lump in his throat, and he reminds himself to breathe.
He’ll keep trying, is what he thinks in the end. He’ll keep trying. ‘Cuz what else can he do? Mope, cry about it? What other choice does he have?
Maybe one day he’ll make something, and he won’t have to see it be destroyed. Maybe one day he’ll go out peacefully.
Maybe one day people will stop making their wings out of stupid, meltable wax–
Yeah, okay. He’s getting sick of this metaphor too.
But like– he can’t help but think, you know, about that fall. About Icarus, and how he laughed as he fell into the sea. People say he was happy, even in the face of death, even as his wings burned and turned into soot.
A joy worth losing. A friend worth dying for. A home worth its destruction.
Tentatively, he lets himself think: That maybe, at the very least, that’s what it means to be his.
The thought makes him relax. (If only for now.)
…He hopes so. He really, really does.
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merbear25 · 2 months
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Just when I was beginning to lose hope (Law)
Prompt 1 requested by @eloweemelo
a/n: Thank you for requesting this! I really enjoyed writing this for you, so I hope you like it 💜💜
CW: NSFW!!! MDNI!!! fem!reader, lovesick angst and fluff, spoilers for Dressrosa arc, fingering, vaginal penetration, slightly rough
Neither of you were looking to catch feelings, but when you first crossed paths with Law, there was an undeniable pull. You were tending to some of his injured crew during a battle in your hometown. Such selflessness and medical expertise made you stand out from so many others they'd come across. When he invited you to join his crew, you gladly took him up on his offer―sailing around the world with an interesting crew such as theirs was impossible to turn down.
The time you spent with Law was irreplaceable: late nights conducting research, perfecting solutions, and exchanging pleasant conversations. Having spent a lot of one on one time together, that pull you'd been feeling was becoming harder to resist. The more you got to know each other, the more apparent your connection was.
Exploring your newfound feelings, setting the foundation to your relationship, letting the budding love shared between flourish, such things were meant to be cherished. However, with the sweet smell of love in bloom came spring storms to potentially uproot what the two of you had been crafting.
You were well aware of Law's past and the responsibility he put on himself to carry out a loved one's lifework. Even so, there wasn't enough time in the world that would have allowed you to prepare for his departure.
Despite your heartache, such a love as yours was worth holding out hope for. Keeping him near and dear, you were as ready as you could be to go through the inevitable loneliness sure to follow.
You'd been keeping up with the news, and although you knew you had to take what was being published with a grain of salt, you couldn't keep the dread from sinking in. Such stories clutched at the hope you'd been trying to keep alive―their grip tightening, attempting to drag it to the pools of dismay forming at the bottom of your heart.
Once word got out that Doflamingo was defeated and the alliance between Law and Luffy had been established, you couldn't hold back the burning tears―seeing proof that he'd survived sent you crashing to your knees, tears of relief and gratitude streaming down your cheeks.
As he reboarded the Polar Tang, you barely recognized him; he'd become worn, yet held a sense of optimism. With the two years of his absence now concluded, you were given the chance to hold each other again, granting yourselves the privilege of getting swept away in the passion that'd reignited―the flame burning brighter than ever before.
The devotion you had for one another could never be doubted. Through quivering lips, you admitted, "I never thought I'd see you again."
Such a fear was mutual, but he didn't respond verbally, instead he deepened his kiss, which was laced with longing and desperation. He needed more than kisses though, you both did. Leading you to your bedroom, he'd already begun tugging your clothes off.
His voice was just above a whisper, his breath hot against your ear, "Let me show you how much I missed you."
Picking you up and swiftly tossing you on the bed, he was quick to climb ontop of you. As the room filled with the scent of the passion and want you had to get lost in the other's embrace, Law trailed kisses down your neck to your breasts, leaving gossebumps in their wake.
Your body reacted to each touch with readiness, begging for more. Matching your neediness, he shoved two fingers between your already slick folds and began pumping, hitting your sweet spot just right. Having gone so long without his attention, your body started twitching and your moans were already growing more urgent.
You held his head as he flicked your nipple with his tongue, earning you a low growl. Your senses were being flooded with the immense bliss he was gifting you.
"I need you, Law. Please, give me more"
Your begs served as a drug; they were laced with an addictive substance that would make it impossible to ever leave your side again.
Positioning himself over you, his searing kisses lit your lips on fire as he alligned his arousal with yours. As he plunged into you, your walls twitched and ached from the forgotten feeling of his girth stretching you out. Your gasps, your fingernails digging into him, your trembling form: you weren't making it any easier on yourself, only causing his hunger to grow.
Each thrust sent shockwaves of pain and delight coarsing throughout your body. Keeping your legs propped up on his shoulders, he had himself completely over you, needing to feel every inch. His fingers tangled in your locks and tugged, leaving you panting from the abuse being unleashed on your recently neglected form.
Bucking further and harder into you was sending you both into a frenzy. Yearning to satiate the cravings, you continued dashing towards the peak in the distance.
As your bodys collided and the slaps of your lust sounded in the room, your souls entwined, wrecking you to your cores. After taking a moment to bask in the after glow of your passion, you wrapped your arms around him, not wanting to let go of him just yet.
Allowing yourselves to gaze into the other's eyes, it was obvious that those seeds of love you'd planted so long ago were still deeply rooted and weren't going to be torn from the soil you were working so hard to maintain.
With a tender kiss on your forehead, you could finally set your woes aside. He was home, back in your arms and nothing would tear him away from you.
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izvmimi · 7 months
Text
cw: angel!gojo. hopefully not too sacrilegious. first thing that came to mind after @k-atsukibakugou's post earlier today!! minors dni.
Your hands thread through feathers, soft as the finest silk, shrouding you in a warmth that can only be described as divine. In this very moment, you wonder if the heavens above are watching, taking in every disgusting, depraved sight, every nip, suck, swallow, squelch, and cry drawn out of you by its messenger, night after night. It’s clear that salvation is no longer in the cards for you, but as angel Satoru, eyes as brilliant as sapphires as he devours you in every single way possible, continues to hold you, you consider that being ground permanently to the very earth - or rather the eternal flames under it - is worth it. 
Satoru lets you play with his wings longer, pressing kisses to your forehead, to your cheeks, and as you lay together, places his hand right on your warm heat. 
“You’re damned,” he whispers, a fingertip circling your clit. He says it so matter of fact-ly that you’re not sure if he’s pleased, amused even, or regretful. His divinity makes the rules different for him, and you do not know what will become of him, who partakes of the same acts. Yet you don’t care once he slips a finger into your center, and curls it, making your toes curl as well as you cry out his name.
“Satoru!”
“You should be calling for the Almighty,” he whispers, as he leans in, filling your nostrils with his scent, your senses, as he bites at your earlobe.
“Do they compare to you?” you huff out. Satoru’s gaze runs over you, and a smile curls on his lips. 
“God is watching. Best to not repeat that.” His chuckle is angelic, hushed with the sweet sound of his voice like bells and songbirds.
And yet his tongue swirls around your nipples, cupping your breasts in his hand with every action. He dips even lower, sipping the nectar dripping from between your legs. Mortal and so ephemeral, your time on earth fleeting, and yet you are so delicious to him, so easy to sink his teeth into and tear to pieces.
Your hands twist into his hair, and you wonder why an angel would curse you so with their beauty. He wonders the same, loathes the separation of the heaven and earth, spitting on the barrier in between when he consorts with you, pressing himself deep into your body, seating himself in your much more divine cunt, and holding you close, arms and wings, and floating sash. His halo is shaky; he wishes it would simply fade away. He’d much rather sink into you, he’d much rather his religion were you.
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denim-devil · 1 year
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Dauntless | D.W
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Summary - A close call has Dean asking questions, hoping to gain some clarity of the current situation, the flames ignite bringing the butterflies that had once lay dormant, to life.
Warnings - Soft!Dean, Alcohol, Smut, M x M, P in A, Spanking (slightly), Dom!Dean, Dirty talk, Mentions of a certain white liquid I-, Kissing, FLUFFY DEAN-
“Not Proof read- sorry”
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Dean hasn’t realised.
How could he? With each swig of whiskey that trickled down his chest with a certain wanting warmth brought his thoughts into a swirling mess.
His eyes grew slacker by the minute, focusing on the way you laughed at his stupid mindless jokes. At first he thought it was because you had as much alcohol as him to succumb to the euphoria that closely followed but no…he saw the way you glanced, eyeing up his fully clothed form.
Dean tried to let it go, with each passing moment his focus grew shorter and shorter. Watching the older hunter shuffle in his seat, you had guessed the wooden structure left nothing but an aching numbness that chimed like church bells, one of his legs crossing over the other.
Unphased by the sudden bodily manoeuvre, you go back to sipping on the bronze liquid Dean happily shared between the two of you.
“So…what was that back there? Did you have a plan?” Dean rasped, plump lips lingering on the edge of the smooth glass, ridges of detailed shapes littering the outside, his fingers delicately gripping the cold object.
You shrugged allowing the liquid courage to take control, mind empty and your tongue dozily laying still in your mouth as if words themselves were hard to form.
The room fell in silence, the bunkers structure stuttering, disputing low rumbles, you had guessed it was the age of the frame, bricks beginning to fade with time, it was easy to lose focus, especially with experienced hunter sat closely next to you.
“No…”
It was clearly painted across your expressionless face, his eyebrow cocks as if confused but also curious. The whole ordeal in itself costed the use of your left shoulder for the next couple of days, the stiffness still lingered but with each sip of the beverage at hand left you feeling limp and unbothered.
He could see it, how the whiskey melded your new form as if it gave you the strength to hold your lips closed before letting something carless slip past and into the open, into Dean’s ears.
“No? Why do I not believe you?”
The questions at hand left you sinking into the rickety chairs of the library. Each passing moment ticked with time itself as if in every possible outcome it would leave you cold and trapped.
The sudden crumpling of his shirt, each wrinkle shadowed by the dim light above growing as he reached over, his hand settling above your own as if was ment to, attached to the skin of your open palm, fingers dancing along the heated skin.
“Tell me”
He ordered, his tone stern and deep, wanting to uncover the factor that had lead you into a certain type of doom and gloom.
At first you had tried gaining some sort of control, tying each and every word into a sentence worth while but with each passing second it proved harder. The truth was almost hurtful but it was also showered in gold, a blinding sort of glimmer that rolled up in the back of your mouth and out into the open.
“I’m afraid, Dean I can’t”
Your words were like a dagger. Surely you would hold and place every inch of trust and respect into the man that had made something out of you. His fingers almost soothed the irradiating warmth with coolness that managed to settle you, his eyes slightly flinched knowing that he could be the reason.
“Try me”
His words were sharp like the same dagger that struck him moments ago, cutting into your skin harshly forcing the lump to unravel in your throat, bubbling up into a strung up sentence.
At first you tried, cheeks twitching as you shuffled to face him, fearful of what he would think, how careless it was of you to be distracted in such a dangerous job.
“I- It was you…at first I tried…I really did to ignore it”
You stopped, palm growing sweaty as Dean’s own covered yours, which instantly calmed you like a bedtime story, putting you in a trans-like state which inevitably forced you to speak nothing but the truth.
“I couldn’t function with you so close to me-“
Dean gripped onto you hard, hard enough to make you stop like a deer caught in headlights. The glass he held so tight onto was discarded before he pealed his crossed leg away, both planted securely onto the cemented floor beneath.
You could feel it, the change. The way he fumbled and lost control of his features, how he somehow had gotten closer, his breath fanning across your now crimson cheeks.
“I nearly costed you your own life?”
His mouth hung agape, brows again burying themselves lower slightly. Nodding, eye contact seemed to be the only comfort, followed by his calloused palm that clung to your own tightly.
“N-No, not you, but…you were so close to me-“
It clicked. Like train-tracks slotting into its own fitted journey, his heart beat wickedly picked up, ringing in his own ears clouding his judgement. It was obvious now, just as time itself, it was obvious.
He grew closer, lips almost searching for it’s perfect surface, your own. He held his own, awaiting a certain go-head before taking ownership of the situation, eyes dimming from a emerald green to a suggestive darkness that rocked your entire existence, a growing lust travelling from the pits of his stomach upwards.
“How about now…sweetheart?”
The nickname rolled from his tongue effortless, stilling, you can only keep focus on how his whole demeanour changes much like seasons but this one stayed, the concentration that plastered across his face only drew the two of you closer until the gap was no more, his lips attaching to your own fiercely.
Dean wanted you in more ways then one, away from here, riddled away in his sheets, touching and holding you in every way possible.
——
You had no plans on messing this up.
Despite how small and rickety Dean’s bed was, you still managed to both fit onto it, slotting above his now naked body, hands and legs moving against each other igniting the everlasting lust you kept locked away for years.
It was easy for Dean, he was protective in ways that could seem possessive, loving in ways that could seem down-right heavenly, he had you right where he desired.
“I’ve dreamed about this…”
His mumble was loud enough to send shockwaves throughout your body which splayed itself across his own, against his body, somehow you had both managed to find a position that suited the circumstances.
It’s everything you had imagined and more, back pressed closely to his chest, his hands soothe small circles into your thighs before picking them up, just enough so they were level with your ears, body now folding in half just how Dean wanted you.
“Me to…”
You shyly hiss once his thick, reddened tip lingers against your pucker, his smirk growing once you needily whine into the thin air of his room.
“You want it that bad? Why didn’t you say so-“
His tone was deep and lust-filled, distracting you enough to push himself upward and inside, grazing the velvet walls you claimed, writing his mark with each inch.
“Dean-“
It couldn’t have felt better, biting your lips to suppress the hungry moans threatening to expose the two of you hastily gripping onto strong biceps wrapped around your thighs, slightly grounding you enough to keep composure.
He was thick and long, each ridge, each vein easily felt against the disappearing muscle that pushed the limits you were use to already, feeling full had never felt so good.
“You know how many nights- fuck; that I stayed up…” finally bottoming out, he stills allowing you to utilise the stretched out feeling, his balls pressed firmly against the cleft of your ass, enough to send you into overdrive, you had finally acquired all of Dean.
“Jerking off over you and your pretty little ass-“
Guttural, loud, pornographic. Each word described the temptation that riddled you both and the moan that slipped from his open lips moments ago, it felt surreal to be in the warmth and grip of your teacher, and the best hunter the world had ever had.
“I- I can’t”
Mumbling incoherently, blubbering as the tears slip from your damp lashes. It gave Dean both the pride and confidence to carry on, pulling himself out until his tip lingered on your entrance.
“You can honey, i’ve got you”
Sinking back in with ease, he could feel it all, how soft and wet and pretty you were for him, how it all joined and created something unfathomable, something from a porno Dean was frequent with, but this, this was real and it had his emerald greens rolling back into his head and his hands trembling against your sweat-slicked skin.
“Oh fuck- sweetheart, so fucking good for me”
He was almost insatiable, from his confidence to the cocky attitude that had you a mess, cock weeping and twitching with every word and every touch.
“Dean, feel so full fuck-“
Smirking against your neck, he breaths, tonging at the spot that had you shaking in his grip. Ultimately his stamina had grown, fulfilling every need you had, like a bucket list, checking off every single damn thought you previously had of him.
In time, his speed grows to a certain speed that littered each corner of the room with loud slaps, his balls smashing against your cheeks with urgency, although lewd and slick, Dean had no plan of stopping, sliding in with each lap that had now moved to the shell of your ear.
“Wish I had you sooner, woulda stopped me from fucking the wrong one-“
He was vulgar to say the least, trapping you against his body, you had no escape but that was the dream you were once sold on, now, it was a reality you wanted to delve in for eternity, wrapped up in his body, entangled with nothing but the lust and drive to see stars.
“W-Wish I had you sooner-“
Dean didn’t think twice to turn your head slightly with his strong grip, his fingers scrunching up your hair, smashing your lips together, engulfed by the flames that surrounded you both.
It didn’t last long, but it was short and sweet, all tongue and love. You were mistaken if you thought Dean had any softness in his bones when he began to fuck up into you without remorse, holding your legs up and wide, hitting the bundle of nerves that had you limp against his front.
Doe-eyed and delirious from his affection, each thrust sending you into a blissful heaven, you let go, the walls crumbling around finally falling completely, you spray into the open air, each glop landing onto the manly forearms holding you still.
“That’s it- atta boy-“
With a swift slap to your glutes that rang out like a rusty spring snapping, Dean holds you down by the hips, slowly rolling, riding out his high. A few “fucks” had managed to escape him, voice now hoarse from the lingering tipsiness.
Each splatter painted your insides white, finally claiming what he had dreamed of forever, you.
Panting, breathing in the same air, your both left feeling weak and limp but better, it was almost as vivid as the dreams you had experienced in the past that involved the very man that had you cum hands free.
He chuckles, green eyes flicking up to meet yours. His glare was sincere, sweet almost overbearing if it hadn’t been for the soft pat he gave your ass, slowly enveloping your lips with his.
It lasted longer then before, more lips then anything else, deep and inviting. Pulling away for air, glancing down at him had never felt so intimate, his smile big and bright, blinding in every best way possible.
“Not the first time that’s happened”
He points to the mess dripping down your thighs and backside, chuckling in amusement as you blush, burying your head in his neck giving him the right amount of space to slip out of you, already you feel empty, yearning for the next time.
“That’s the first time it’s happened…”
Mumbling against his neck, breathing his scent in, the aftershave that spoke to his character invading your senses, delirium flooding back into your veins.
“It won’t be the last sweetheart, for a very long time-“
You laugh immediately before pecking him on the lips, returning to nuzzle in the crook of his neck.
It was if you were both lost in the darkness of the room, tangled together, damp and basking the afterglow of bliss, witnessing the relaxed smile he offered was your golden ticket to a happy every after, his arms holding you close, he had you now and you had him…
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