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ciaonicole85 · 2 days

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Part 3: What Then?

This was supposed to be a three part series, but it will probably be 4 or 5 parts. Sydcarmy is a tangled mess of intense care interlaced with anxiety and denial. So they need HELP from their friends and family along the way! Here's a convo with Natalie and Carmen. It takes place just a few days after he found out that he'd made Sydney's best meal ever. Then he inadvertently confessed she's the best part of his day and his heart's dearest wish...j/k, but not really ;)

On a brisk Monday afternoon Carmen rang the bell at Pete and Natalie's home. The doorbell's speaker answered back, with Natalie's hurried voice. "It's open Bear! Just come up to the nursery." He entered their home noting the new family photos hanging on the wall leading up the stairs. They were black and white shots with Pete and Nat walking into the hospital, the next just after Baby Angeline was placed in Natalie's arms, another with Pete and the baby, one shot of her curled bitty toes, and the last was all three of them in the hospital bed. Pete had hired a hospital photographer and as antithetical as that was to anyone with an ounce of Berzatto blood, Natalie let him do it. The result was so unexpectedly tender and beautiful that he paused on the stairs to soak it in. Pete is really a good guy. He was made from an entirely different mold than any man Carmy had grown up around. "Carm?!" Natalie called. "Coming." He turned into the nursery to find Natalie bundling up "Angie" and fastening her into one of those baby slings. Then with one fluid motion before he could speak, she slipped the sling over his shoulders. "Okay, Uncle she's yours!" "So, how does this work?" he asked, looking down at his tiny niece, his eyes as big as beach balls. Angie blinked back at him extremely unbothered.

Natalie rolled her eyes and chortled.

"It's already working. It's fool-proof! Okay, let me get my coat and we'll head out." They strolled down the older suburb's tree-lined streets past others pushing babies, walking dogs, and the occasional Amazon delivery truck. "Carmy, this is really nice and you're welcome to drop by anytime, but what did you want to talk about?" Natalie enquired. He had texted her the other night asking to discuss something important. He kept his eyes on Angie's blissful little face, swallowed, and began. "I'd like to split my share of the restaurant with Syd. She's put in so much work, took several months without pay, and even though I'm the EC she's the main developer of at least half of the menu and the weekly specials. When I was sick recently, she ran the place like a pro. She deserves it. Also, I think if I give her a financial stake she'll stay for at least 5 years. We need that. What do you think?"

Natalie contemplated him for a moment. "Well, part of me agrees and the other part...Carmy, please don't get defensive." "Nat. How can I not when you’ve said that?" "Is this a solely a business decision? Because if it isn't I don't think you need to or should do this to keep her. " Carmy stopped walking, his face falling with frustration and shame. "Have you been talking to Richie?" Natalie stopped and took his arm in hers. "No, I haven't. Look, sorry. What I meant is things are so good between you two." They resumed walking. "Yeah, and that's a problem?" "Not at all. The way you are together...maybe it's the hormones but I've cried sometimes because you are just yourself with her. I've never seen you smile so much with anyone else. Your freakin’ posture is more relaxed when she comes in the room. I could go on, Bear." "You see all that? What about-what about her? Am I any good for her?" he asked in a low, wistful tone. Natalie pulled his arm tighter. She paused, to choose her words carefully. She and Camry were no strangers to family interference in their love lives. "Well, I haven't known Sydney that long, but she tends to spiral, and she pushes through until she's sick or lashes out. Kinda like you do. I noticed that it’s gotten better though. Since we opened, you've been consistently checking in with her, collaborating with her, encouraging her, making her take breaks, and pouring time into her. She's far less doubtful; she believes in herself."

Carm nodded slowly, reflecting on Sydney's growth. "Well, she deserves that. I promised her that she wasn’t alone in this. My focus was not where it should’ve have been during the reno and Friends and Family.”

He exhaled heavily and went on.

“So, it sounds like she lights up my life and for her, I'm a good boss or even her big brother."

Natalie shook her head, smirking.

" Yeah, you’re a great boss now, but little sisters don't look at their brothers the way Sydney does you. Do you remember when we were all talking in my office and you spilled hot coffee on your shirt? You peeled it off and the poor girl looked at you, as your sister it pains me say this, like she wanted to jump you. When you left to get a clean shirt, she didn't remember what she had been saying." " What!?!? Okay...." Carm scoffed trying and failing to suppress a huge smile. "Also, does she ever leave before 11 instead of sitting in those greasy whites with you every single night for how long? One to two hours!?" She continued. "My point is if you want to divide your share with her because it's good business and fair, and I agree it is, then let me do it too so we're even. Otherwise, I think you’re already three-quarters of the way there with her. She doesn't need to be bought."

They walked in silence for a few minutes. "Natalie, I understand, but I still want to split my share. I think it’s the right thing to do. You don't need split yours though." "First I don't want the largest share of the restaurant and second.... Pete and I may move to be near his parents next year." Natalie bit her lip and glanced at Carmy worry etched in her brow.

"We think it would be good for Angie. You know, to be close to her grandparents and she'd have young cousins nearby too." Carm squeezed her arm, missing her already. "Yeah, I met them at the wedding. They were...Pete’s parents for sure. Angie would have a normal set of grandparents around." Natalie took a deep breath, a gamut of emotions crossing her face. "Choosing Pete was the biggest act of rebellion of my life. I honestly felt repulsed by him at first, until I realized that he was real, and I didn't have to be on guard all the time. Angeline should have that from the start." She bent over to kiss her baby's head which was protected from the cool air by a lilac-colored beanie. "Sydney's a really good choice too. Businesswise and/or otherwise. So, if you're certain about this call Uncle Cicero. This won't change anything with our loan repayment, but his lawyer could help draft a contract. Then we'll ask Sydney if she wants to accept and if she refuses...just give her one of those Sydney-land stares of yours."

Carmy groaned. "You did talk to Richie!"

Natalie erupted into a storm of giggles. Carmen dropped her arm.

"Look, he started it. I told him to chill, but that Sydney-land thing...You have an season pass, bro! It’s very cute though.”

Next time on "What Then?"- Sydney's workversary (work anniversary)

#the bear #sydcarmy #sydney x carmy #carmy the bear #carmy x sydney #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #syd adamu #fan fiction #natalie berzatto #fluff

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prince-liest · 15 days

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I am literally checking your blog daily how the backflipping DUCK did I miss the recent snippet!?!?

It is genius. Bestest thing in the entire universe. I am filled with admiration for your skills. If I were home, I would be screaming into a pillow.

Just how do you make snippets this good?!?? Hahah♡ /pos

Backflipping duck got me, HAHA, thank you for that. Honestly, this entire chapter has been sitting solidly in "there's a lot of emotional fallout here from the previous installments of this series, and it is making me very paranoid about pulling both of them out of character," so I'm really glad people are enjoying the bits of WIP that I've been posting! Now that I've made it through a night out followed by an all-day party, I can sit, relax, and edit the shit out of it prior to posting so that I feel solid about it, hahaha. Anyway, thank you so much! <3 These kind messages have been fueling me amidst all the chaos, ehehe.

More replies specifically on the snippet under the cut! <3

okay I'm DYING over that snippet, alastor is going through a crisis not feeling comfortable with what they've been doing any longer and trying to figure out how to express that and one of the first things vox says when he breaches the topic is "I'm gonna dress up valentino as you and fantasize about fucking you anyway" like buddy!! all horny no brain asdfg they're both killing me omg - ✨

Vox was allowed like two seconds of healthy, genuine communication prior to the snippet I posted before I was like, "Hm, one sec, gotta remind everyone who he is," hahaha. He was, to be fair, mostly trying to be glib in that moment in a way that just didn't land.

Vox says "well it doesn't have to be literally you if you don't want" and Alastor hears "I've objectified the idea of you to such an extent that I'm going to go to such length to still realize my desire to fuck you" and oof.

Hi, anon who loves your writing snippets here 👋 Reaction summarized: “The Emotions They destroyed their cage Yes YES The Emotions are out” In other words: I am ready to be utterly obliterated. Hit me with the emotional weightlifting these two idiots are about to do. I’m rubbing my hands vigorously like a little creacher, a raccoon or common housefly, perhaps. On another note, so happy you’re getting off to a good start in your residency! As someone who’s been below the poverty line for most of their life, I know how thrilling it can be to look at future housing prospects. There’s nothing I love more than decorating a new space to make it feel like home :). I hope for the best for you these upcoming months!

Ehehehe, what a GREAT use of that poem. >:D The emotions really have finallly destroyed their cage. Time to face the music!!

And ahhh, thank you! Yeah, I've moved around a lot throughout my life (including switching houses weekly between my parents most of my life) and I feel like one of the ways I adapted to it was just being very gung-ho about decorating and home-ifying a place I'm staying, so I'm so excited to finally have a space that is All Mine To Do With As I Please without being concerned about roommates, etc, etc. And it won't be permanent, but I'll be there three years, and that's a decently long time!!

#ask #personal #aska234 #sparkle anon #anonymous #thank you guys all! :D <3 #was lovely to look through these between busy moments the past day and a half or so #hazbin hotel #(also to be clear I enjoyed myself immensely it was just A Lot esp as one of two primary organizers)#t

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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 2 months

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I don't know you anymore (maybe I never really did)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.7k

genre: fluff, angst (happy ending to come)

warnings: slytherin reader, some serious emotional dodging and avoidance but you know me it all ends up ok, peter is your bestie and that's just the way it is sorry, no happy ending YET but I promise it's coming this is not a tragedy

a/n: happy ending next week I love y'all too much to leave you with heartache

"Sorry, love," Remus begins to bend down, hand reaching to pick up the book you'd dropped when the two of you collided in the library, but you quickly shoot your own hand out to snatch it up first. "What are you doing here this late?"

"Getting a book," you say plainly. Remus's brows furrow slightly, his eyes drifting over your figure as if to somehow see why you're acting so strangely.

"Alright, dove. We're all planning on studying pretty late tonight - you're welcome to join us. We can always sneak you back down to the dungeons whenever you're ready to call it a night." Remus is quiet when he talks, that soothing, soft air he has about him making your shoulders drop as you lean against the bookshelf next to you.

"As if I can't sneak myself around the castle without your help," you bite back playfully. A smile twitches across Remus's lips as he thinks, just for a moment, that you're back, that you'll follow him up to his common room and spend the night laying on a couch with him, your legs slung over James's lap while you throw wads of paper at Sirius's head. His heart thumps a little painfully when he realizes that he can't remember the last time you've done that with them - he can't remember the last time you've hung out with them at all.

It's as if you remember that fact at the same time he does, as the faint smile slips off your face and you straighten. "I can't tonight," you say kindly. "But thank you." Remus blinks as you begin to move past him, your polite voice ringing through his head. Like we're strangers, he thinks weakly. Except you're not even that nice to strangers.

Remus is busy slouching against the nearest bookshelf and wondering what they possibly could have done to make you avoid them so desperately but so kindly when he hears you let out another sigh from where you've walked past him.

"Wow," Sirius drawls as Remus turns to see him and James standing in front of you and you pointedly looking past them, like you're a trapped animal searching for the nearest escape route. "I'd almost forgotten you go here still." Your gaze snaps to Sirius and you narrow your eyes at him.

"It's good to see you," James interjects, seeing the two of you size each other up and eager to avoid a showdown between you and Sirius. "How have you been, love?"

"You see me in class almost every day," you snipe back at Sirius before turning to James. "I've been busy, and I still am now so - if you'll excuse me." With that, you slip between the two of them, exiting the library swiftly. Remus sighs and Sirius scowls at the now empty doorway, James opting to look down at the floor, staring dejectedly like a kicked puppy. No doubt you're holing up down in the Slytherin dorms all night now - as far away as you can get from them. Sirius smoothes a hand over James's unruly curls as Remus squeezes his shoulder comfortingly.

"We'll figure this out," he says gently, and as Sirius looks at him, he begs himself to believe it.

"You lost, Pete?" You don't look up from your book as Peter plants himself in the seat opposite you, frowning at you.

"Like we've never had breakfast together before," he huffs back, and you can't stop the smile that flits across your lips at the confidence that he's so clearly been nurturing. You close your book with a thump and place your chin in your hand, staring at him and waiting for him to continue. "Half the time, you're at the Gryffindor table. It can't be so different for me to come over here."

"Hm, maybe it's not," you shrug, picking your book back up to toss it across the table at him. "Read the back of that. You can borrow it when I'm done - I think you'll like it." Peter picks it up tentatively and gets about halfway through the synopsis before he's dropping it back on the table and crossing his arms.

"You're making them miserable," he says bluntly. You pout in a mocking sort of manner, but Peter's frown tells you that he doesn't believe you're as heartless as you typically let on.

"I thought you just came here to have breakfast with me," you switch tactics.

"Tell me what's going on with you," he pushes. You straighten up in your seat.

"Why don't you just ask them?"

"I have - they don't know. Every time they try to talk to you about it, you find some reason to run away."

"Would you like to see that first hand?"

"You can't run away from me. I'll cry," Peter insists. You sniff indignantly, mostly because you know he's right. The two of you stare at each other for a long time, and it's to your surprise that he doesn't waver. Your heart does something strange in your chest when you realize that his determination may be because this is more serious than you'd thought - you're hurting them more than you thought.

"They need to get over me, Pete," you say quietly.

"Why?" He presses.

"Because if they don't then this gets messy. None of us want that," you insist. Peter softens a bit, looking sympathetic.

"It's already messy." The bite has left Peter's voice as he reaches to pat your arm across the table. You look at his hand pointedly and he's reminded swiftly that anyone else who reached out to console you like that would get a smack from you. He smiles as he thinks of the kindness that lives in you that you seem to be blind to.

"I'll talk to them," you sigh, leaning forward to let your head thump down onto the table. Peter pats the top of your head gently and, for that, he does get a smack.

"James," your voice makes him stumble to a stop, whipping around to look at you so fast that you nearly run into him, sidestepping him at the last minute as he looks at you, bewildered.

"Are you talking to me?" He asks, confusion and surprise making his voice thick. Something painful twinges in your chest at his shock. Of course I am, you want to say. Who else would I ever want to talk to?

"Yes," is all you end up saying. James shifts on his feet and looks at you a little wearily.

"Are you ok?" He asks and a breath leaves your lungs quickly.

"I'd like to talk to you… if you have a moment?" James looks at you strangely, but he just nods and leads you out of the hall to the quiet courtyard. There's no, of course I have time for you, pretty thing. I always have time for you. It's just James, stiff and silent and hurting… because of you.

"Peter says I'm making you all miserable," you say bluntly, regret immediately seeping into you at the way James flinches, sitting on the bench in front of you slowly. You stay standing in front of him, looking down at the way he runs a hand through his curls.

"It's just," he begins, looking around as if to find the answer somewhere, or maybe just to find some way of getting away from you. "If we knew what we'd done to upset you then maybe we could make it better. You're just freezing us out, lovely, and that means we can't fix… whatever it is that's happened."

"It's not…" Now it's your turn to look around vaguely, wishing you could get out from under his sharp gaze. "It's not anything you've done. It's just - it's the way things go sometimes. It's ok, James, you just have to move on." But James's face hardens at that, a sternness you're not used to overtaking his features as he stands so that he can look you eye to eye. You have to tilt your head back to look up at him.

"That's what you want us to do? Just… move on? Forget about you? Pretend we were never friends?" The sombre tone in his voice doesn't suit him, and neither does the timid hurt in yours.

"Are we friends, James? Is that what we all are?" James blinks at that, taking a step back and sitting back down onto the bench rather abruptly. When he looks up at you this time, there's something akin to remorse swimming in his eyes.

"Is that what it is, lo-" the pet name dies on his tongue as he presses his lips together firmly. "I'm sorry. I thought - we all thought that you felt the same way about us that we do about you. We thought… we thought we were all more than friends with you and that you… I'm sorry. We never dreamt of making you uncomfortable." You scoff at his words, shaking your head fondly and toeing at the dirt by his feet with your shoe.

"Uncomfortable?" You say disbelievingly. "Please - you three are the biggest gentlemen I've ever met. I don't think you could make me uncomfortable if you tried." James's shoulders sag in relief, but the look he gives you is still that of a lost, confused puppy. You look past him to see a group of students hurrying to their next class and open your mouth to remind James that the two of you also are officially late, but he speaks before you can.

"Then what is it? Please, just… what did we do?"

"It's like I said, James… it's just a bad idea. It's wrong and I can't do this. I… we have to get to class."

But James doesn't go to class that day. He sits on that bench, staring at the place you'd been standing in, until Remus and Sirius find him that evening. And as the two of them tug him up and inside, all he can think of is how they really have lost you.

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merakiui · 1 month

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risky rascality (tsum sex).

azutsum x (female) reader x azul ashengrotto cw: nsfw, non-con, tsum sex, tsum has a dick, ntr, shameless smut, loss of virginity, cumflation, characters written as 18+ note - don't underestimate the importance of body language. (or: azul's tsum misreads your intentions and fucks you.)

You’ve found yourself in Azul’s VIP room plenty of times in the past, so it’s impossible to explain the anxiety that washes over you. Sudden like a devastating tidal wave, it rocks you to your core the moment Azul offers you a casual smile. He’s so charming. You almost forget you’re here for your usual tutoring session and not a study date. One can dream.

“Before we begin, I’ll have to step out for a moment. There’s something that requires my immediate attention. I shouldn’t be too long. In the meantime, would you mind getting your notes out and turning to the chapter we last left off at?”

Having been so caught up in admiring the way he stands in the doorway, you startle at the sound of his smooth voice. “Next chapter… R-Right! Yes, of course! I’ll do that. You do your thing. I’m not going anywhere.”

With a nod of acknowledgement, he shuts the door behind him. The stiffness in your shoulders ebbs away then, and you slouch back against the sofa. With an embarrassed groan, you drag your hands down your face.

Be normal for one minute, (Name). This isn’t anything special.

Something nudges your thigh and you lower your arms to find Azul’s tsum pushing your textbook towards you. He struggles more than he makes any apparent success, and it’s a cute sight that has a smile sprouting on your lips.

“Thanks, little guy.” You lift the book up to spare him of the burden and set it on the table. A cup of tea rests inches away, steam curling from the liquid in fragrant tendrils. The tsum blinks up at you, wordless like always. “You don’t have to stay for this, you know. I’m sure you’d much rather explore campus.”

The tsum stares and then, as if your words have somehow offended him, he rears forward to knock his head into your thigh again. His fedora falls off in the process, but he pays it no mind and continues to bump into your leg.

“Okay, okay! You can stay.” You laugh and hold your hands up in surrender. “I never said you had to leave.”

Lifting the tiny fedora from the sofa, you place it atop the tsum’s head. It’s uncanny how much of Azul you see in him. Even the beauty mark is in the right place… How peculiar.

Seeming pleased with this, the tsum scrambles to get into your lap. You place your hand under him and help him up. Even though he doesn’t have a mouth, he looks very happy here, bouncing up and down with what you think is a show of enthusiasm.

“You’re adorable, Azutsum. I wish I could say that to your counterpart. He’s great, you know? The most amazing guy I’ve ever met.” You squish Azutsum between your hands and sigh dreamily. “I’m actually not that bad at magic history. I just pretended so I could spend more time with Azul outside of class.”

Azutsum narrows his eyes at you.

“You disapprove?”

He squirms out of your grasp and jumps up towards your chest. You catch him before he can fall back onto your lap. It doesn’t look like open disapproval. Maybe the tsum just doesn’t understand your feelings. You don’t expect him to. If he’s anything like Azul, he’s probably more focused on the lounge or money. Azul did mention he spent a good half of the morning testing the tsum’s affinity for business.

You glance at your textbook. One day you’ll confess. It won’t be today, though. With a sigh, you resign yourself to your reality and place the tsum on the table. You manage to open the book and flick through a few pages before Azutsum pounces on top. He glowers at you, demanding attention. In a way, when he isn’t being expressive like this, he reminds you of a turtle. That thought prompts a chuckle from you and you nudge him away gently.

“I’d love to play more, but I’ve gotta start reviewing. It’ll look odd if Azul walks in and I haven’t made any progress.”

Despite this, Azutsum persists. He prods at your hand, squeaking at you in what sounds like annoyance. A needy thing, this tsum. You’ve never known Azul to be so shamelessly direct, so it takes you by surprise when his tsum rolls around to wrinkle the pages. You gasp just as it tears.

“Don’t be so careless!” You grab hold of the tsum before he can cause further damage to your precious book. Pinching his cheek in light admonishment, you hold him close to your face. “All right, you have my attention. Please don’t destroy my books.”

The tsum beams.

“Aren’t you proud? Seriously… I’m only forgiving you because you look like my crush,” you mutter, your cheeks warming.

If only Azul was this hungry for my attention…

Azutsum wriggles happily in your hands. It’s a challenge to stay angry at such a cute plush. A prisoner to his charms, you pet him affectionately. He seems to bask in your touch, turning over on his back so that you can give his belly the same amount of love.

“Maybe not a turtle. You’re more like a puppy.”

Smiling to yourself, you rub the tsum’s belly. He seems to appreciate the gesture, for he squeaks in excitement. If he wasn’t sentient, you’d probably mistake him for a pillow. He’s soft like one, squishy like a plush. You knead him every now and then, pressing your fingers into his abdomen. You’re sure there’s nothing but stuffing inside, but a morbidly curious part of you wonders if he has organs and blood. Unlikely. But it’s still fun to fantasize over the wildly impossible.

“Do you like that?” You watch gleefully as the tsum squeezes his eyes shut and squirms. His squeaks are loud. “Seems like it. After this, though, I need to get back to work.”

You’re so swept up in toying with the tsum that it shocks you out of your skin when he jumps out of your arms abruptly. You assume he’s gotten tired of the teasing, but then he’s launching himself at you to tackle you onto the sofa. The force knocks you down, and you gasp as the leather cushions cradle you in the aftermath of your fall.

“Hey! What was that for?” You lift your head up to look at him. A familiar weight settles on top of you. “You’re stronger than you look…”

You gaze at Azutsum and the laughter sticks in your throat. There’s a distinctly human cock curving up along the length of your stomach, grotesquely thick and leaking pre-cum, maddeningly disproportionate. Your eyes widen, and a shard of horror lodges itself in your heart.

“W-Wait… Hold on!” You scramble to get away, but the tsum shifts so that the head of his cock presses against your skirt. You yelp when he moves again to prod at your clothed pussy. ��Don’t touch there—you can’t!”

He presses inwards, blocked only by your panties, and squeaks sadly. You claw at the sofa, desperate to escape. Azutsum isn’t listening. He continues to rut uselessly between your thighs. Much to your disbelief, the pressure of his cock straining to find its home inside your tight hole leaves you soaking through your panties. If you aren’t thinking about it—about the fact that this insane cock belongs to this little tsum—you almost trick yourself into picturing Azul leaning over you on the sofa. He’d grab your hips, yank you to meet him halfway, slot himself inside slowly… He’d praise you for taking him so well, whisper the sweetest of filth, kiss you dizzy!

That sugar-encrusted delusion shatters the moment his fleshy head catches on your panties. Somehow they’re pushed aside as he bullies his way closer to your cunt. Your eyes snap open just as he pushes inside.

“No, no, no! A-Azutsum, don’t do—ooh!”

Your pleas taper off into a low groan just as he slides in. It feels strange, a foreign fit. Is this really going to be your first time? With withering resolve, you reach for the tsum in hopes of tugging him away from your pussy. He draws back, searching for the right rhythm, and sinks further into wet walls. The breath is punched out of your lungs once he’s managed to fit half of his absurd length inside you.

Tears gather in your eyes. “Take it out… Please… It feels weird and—” he bucks forwards and you suck in a breath through your teeth— “h-hurts!”

Azutsum squeaks softly at you. Consolation? Maybe. Or perhaps it’s a parody of a sweet nothing. How is this possible? He shouldn’t be this big. He shouldn’t even have this anatomy to begin with! Where was he even hiding such a monstrous size?

Your arm falls over your face. Despite everything, the fit is snug. You’re not sure you can take another inch. Azutsum disagrees with this unvoiced sentiment, instead choosing to fuck in and out of you until you’re properly slick. It leaves you shuddering with a strange desire—whether that’s to get away or stay, you can’t determine.

Submitting to your fate—though your hips flinch with every thrust—you allow your mind to wander. You envision Azul and wish he was here in place of this devious tsum. Maybe then you’d be more receptive. Maybe then you wouldn’t be crying. Maybe then the drag of his cock along your walls would actually feel satisfying.

Azutsum’s squeaks join the obscene squelch of skin on skin. It’s noisy and gross. You smell yourself on the air—the unmistakable odor of salt and sin. He fucks like he’s running late, driving his cock as deep as it can possibly go. Your back arches up towards the invisible body that ought to be hovering over you right now. If it was Azul, you’d loop your arms around his neck and pull him down to taste him.

It’s not Azul. It will never be Azul.

All you can do is lie there and take it. At some point, the stretch is less of a pain and more of a unique fullness. It’s not unpleasant, weirdly. Rather, you find yourself grinding down to meet each of his sporadic thrusts, chasing a high that’s so conflicting.

What am I doing? This is so wrong! you think, writhing like a fish out of water. And yet you can’t stop.

“Azutsum, please—” You gasp sharply when he hits a particular spot deep within you, your eyes rolling back into your skull. That’s…not your cervix, is it? There’s no way… Surely he didn’t do that. But then the tip of his cock prods at it again, this time with more insistence, and you throw your head back and howl. “Wait, slow down! Hurts—that hurts!”

Tears trail down your cheeks. You wipe them away to no avail. They just keep pouring, made plentiful by the cock ramming against a place that’s never been reached before. You cry out again when he eases out partially and slams back in with forceful determination. His motions are sloppy now, a stuttering, jerky movement that fills you with more cock than you’ve ever taken in your life before. Your fingers and dildo can’t compare to this—nothing can.

In just a few more riotous strokes, the tsum burrows his cock all the way to the hilt and releases inside with a strangled squeak. Thick, warm cum floods your womb at once, so copious it leaves your stomach with a slight bloat. Dazed, just managing to collect yourself, you press down against your belly to feel the bulge of his cock.

“Please…” you whisper, panting, “pull out already…”

Azutsum starts to do that, only to thrust back in. His cock keeps all of his cum effectively plugged.

“No more… I can’t take anymore. Please…”

But he’s already moving, intent on going at it until his balls are drained and you’re properly filled. In the meantime, you shut your eyes and welcome the chimera of an absentee Azul.

You’re not sure how long it’s been or how many rounds you’ve gone, but by the end of it you’re stuffed. Azutsum finally eases out after so much time spent thrust up inside. Shivering, you peer over the deceptive dome that is your stomach. If anyone were to see you, they’d certainly think you were pregnant and not just packed full of cum. You don’t want to know where such a little tsum gets so much virility. Best not to question it, otherwise you’ll drive yourself mad trying to figure it out.

Azutsum climbs up onto your rounded belly, gazing down at you with newfound fondness in his blue eyes. You’re not sure where his cock’s retreated to now. At least it’s over. Defeated, you reach up and pat his head.

The door to the VIP room creaks open then. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, (Name). Some nuisances—ah, I mean customers—don’t know when to—” Azul chokes on the rest of his sentence, his wide-eyed gaze drawn to you splayed out on the leather sofa. Cum dribbles from your abused cunt, pooling below on the cushion.

You can’t bear to look at him, so you bury your face in your hands. “S-Sorry. I’m sorry! I’ll clean it. Just please… Please don’t look.” Shyly, you squeeze your legs shut in hopes of preserving what’s left of your dignity. You’ve never felt humiliation as hot and heavy as this before.

Azutsum squeaks a joyful greeting.

You can’t see him, but his face has exploded with a fiery embarrassment. He’s doing everything he can to avoid staring at you. No matter how hard he tries, his eyes are drawn to your stomach, to your pussy clenched around nothing and leaking cum, to the devilishly proud tsum perched on top… Most importantly, you miss the way his slacks tighten in the crotch and the way he swallows thickly.

Clearing his throat, his words awkward, Azul says, “P-Perhaps we ought to postpone today’s session…”

It’s for the best. He’s not sure he’d be able to explain his reaction if you were to catch it.

#meraki mumbles #n/sfw #tw: noncon #FOOD IS SERVED!!!!!! :D

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thecampjuicebox · 6 months

Note

Was wondering if you could do one with Halsin or Astarion (or Gale👀) where Tav/reader has never let him finish inside them before and it’s something he reallyyyy wants to do so he spends a long time getting Tav all worked up (maybe even days saying he’s too busy to do anything right now) and then keeps bringing them to the edge before telling them what he wants and saying he’ll let Tav finish if they beg for him to finish inside of them

AHHHHHH OKAY WAIT all three would work so perfectly but I feel like this is especially Halsin coded so ding ding ding, he's the winner today. This is going to be a little out of order canonically because I have a very specific time period in mind for this to go down. HERE WE GO!

Just as nature intended.

Pairing: Tav (f) x Halsin (m)

POV: 2nd person (Reader is Tav)

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warings: SMUT, edging, piv sex, breeding kink, fluff, oral (f receiving), lots of scratching (with some blood), finishing inside, game spoilers

Camp is especially quiet tonight. Gentle waves lap at the short rock ledge, sea mist floating through the air and invading your nostrils with the salty scent. You sigh and relax your tired bones into the cracked stone. The barely audible crackle of the campfire lulls your shot nerves and you rub your temples, the tadpole wriggling just behind your eyes. To put put it plainly, you're exhausted. The shadow curse has really taken it out of you and your group today, evident by the lack of usual banter and comradery that camp often bustles with at the end of each rough day. Instead, everyone has retired to their tents immediately after dinner. You tap your fingers against the rock in a random pattern, doing anything to distract you from the pounding headache in your skull. Carefully pushing yourself from the ground, you move to retrieve your bedroll, preparing to settle in for the night. Whether or not sleep finds you is up to the tadpole at this point.

An idea works it's way into your thoughts and you pause your busy hands for a moment. You know a perfect way to relieve the thundering between your ears. Your lover, Halsin. His large hands and incredible sex drive often offer you solace when nothing else will. Even if he declines your offer for sex tonight, you're perfectly happy to curl up in his arms and search for sleep that way, although you'd much prefer the former option. You plop your bedroll down next to the fire and start towards where he's set up, the familiar scent of oak and basil wafting in your direction from the narrow opening in his tent and you salivate.

"Is that you, my heart?"

His words trickle like honey into your ears and your core burns like the fires of Avernus. You reach a trembling hand out and move the right tent flap to the side, ducking into his spacious living quarters. Halsin is sat cross legged on his bedroll, careful hands whittling a comically small piece of wood, the shape of a duck barely visible past his large fingers. He looks so handsome. Caramel hair tied back in a messy half up, half down bun. Pale green eyes carefully scan the small piece of wood that his knife works at, chipping away little chunks here and there. You giggle quietly to yourself, chewing on the middle knuckle of your index finger to stifle the noise, taking care to not startle him while he works. His attention shifts to you and he immediately sets his work down, muscular arms spreading wide to welcome you into his warm embrace. You oblige and slink into his arms. Your face instinctively nuzzles into the crook of his neck, inhaling his musk. He tightens his grip on you with one arm, using the other to adjust your seating position until you're straddling his muscular thighs. You grin, testing the waters of tonight's potential plans, nipping gently at the side of his neck. He groans, both hands reaching down to grasp your plush ass. "Hmph.."

"Hello, my love."

You lift your head to bite the pointy tip of Halsin's ear, earning a grunt into your perked up ears. A sweet sigh escapes his lungs.

"Not tonight.. My mind is elsewhere. I'm afraid I cannot please you the way you and I both desire. I'm sorry.."

Your lips flatten into a frown and you nod. "Alright." Kicking yourself for even thinking now was a good time, you carefully move to his side, throbbing temple resting against his firm bicep. His eyes soften at your quickness to pull away.

"What's wrong?"

You groan and mumble a soft "headache", closing your eyes to soothe the new light sensitivity. Halsin nods and leans to blow out the candles lit in a row next to him, arms snaking around you, guiding you onto your side with him. He runs his fingers through your soft hair and gently scrunches the hair in random spots on your scalp to relieve pressure. You sigh contently, allowing your lids to flutter.

...

It's been about a week of begging Halsin for release, being disappointingly turned down every time and your core aches from the moment you wake up, to the moment you lie your head on your bedroll at night. It's very unlike him to turn away moments of pleasure with you, especially after he confessed his feelings during the Teifling party. He was very open with his intentions and it made your head spin. He took you that very night. Large hands grabbing and prodding and begging for you, touching every inch of your willing body. Sex with Halsin is euphoric, to be blunt. Otherworldly. With Halsin's age and experience taken into consideration, it's no wonder. His words still ring in your ears every day.

"I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now. I want more than to fight at your side, or sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine."

You lie in your bedroll, the thin veil of sleep still shrouding your tired eyes, but you're trapped in a dream. It's early morning, the rest of the camp still quiet, little snores breaking the dewy silence. Astarion tip toes past you, watching your body writhe in your sleep, clearly dreaming of something dangerous. He smirks and nudges you with his foot. You sit up in a panic, chest heaving, sweat beading up on your forehead and you shoot a look of surprise at Astarion. The vampire crosses his arms over his chest.

"Dreaming of me again, pet?"

"Oh, fuck off. You wish."

You scoff, shooing the man away with the back of your hand, both of your hands coming up to smooth your sweaty hair back and you groan. You quickly pull your nightgown over your knees, shielding yourself from the vampire's prying gaze. Astarion saunters off with a giggle. The small commotion stirs Halsin from his tent and he waves a soft "G'morning" to Astarion, the vampire returning the gesture with a similar wave. You squeeze your thighs together, noticing a very familiar warmth between them. Fuck. You're soaked, night garments basically ruined from the rather intense dream you had. Reaching down, you swipe the slick from your inner thigh and lift your hand up to inspect, the clear substance stretching into thin ropes between your fingers. You grin, not at all noticing your lover standing behind you now, pupils blown wide. He huffs and your bones nearly eject from the skin and muscles that hold them inside. "Sh-Shit." Halsin reaches down and grabs your arm, hoisting you up from your bedroll effortlessly.

"My tent. Immediately."

His tone is deep and hoarse with arousal. You obey and follow the elf to his tent, yelping when he throws you to the bedroll like a ragdoll. You love when he's rough with you. Primal need aches in your belly. You spread your legs for him while he clumsily fumbles with the clasps on the tent flaps. Eventually giving up, he turns to you, mouth salivating at the sight of you so open for him. So ready. He shakes his head, palming at his already erect cock through his leggings.

"Undress for me."

You nod, making a show of sliding your nightgown up and over your head, tossing it beside you, your absolutely soaked underwear coming next. You hook your thumbs into the soiled fabric and tug downwards, painfully slow. The elf grunts in approval, eyebrows knitting together. Once the fabric is at your knees, you slide one leg out, the other flicking the underwear into the air and towards Halsin. He catches them and quickly presses them to his nose, inhaling deeply. You beckon him closer with a slow curl of your index finger, a lust filled grin thinning your otherwise full lips. The air in the tent is warm, the scent of your heat getting Halsin absolutely drunk. He stumbles forward, collapsing overtop of you, large frame pressing you into his bedroll as he aggressively grinds his throbbing cock into your naked mound, desperate for any kind of friction. You wrap your arms and legs around him tightly, closing the gap.

"Halsin p-please.."

His grinding halts, body sliding down yours. You whine at the loss of friction and grab for his hair, shoulders, ears, whatever you can get your hands on to pull him back to you, desperate to feel him against you again. He nuzzles his nose into your soaked cunt, breathing you in, hands sliding to your inner thighs to firmly press them apart to anchor you in place. Your hips buck upwards into the tip of his nose, finding a moment of friction against your deprived clit. He exhales heavy against your slit, his hot breath coasting over your wet skin. Wiggling desperately beneath him, your hands fly down to his hair and he chuckles.

"Oak Father preserve me.. You'll be my undoing."

A quick flick of the tip of his tongue ignites a flame in your core that you cannot control, fire burning hotter and hotter up your spine. Grasping fingers tug and yank at his caramel locks and he grunts against your cunt, the vibrations only assisting in your molten hot pleasure. You burn as hot as Karlach's engine heart. Your climax builds and you yell into the early morning air, teetering on the very edge of absolute bliss. Then the feeling stops. Halsin pulls away, smirking up at you. You kick your legs in frustration and push your hips up towards his face, clit searching for his tongue.

"No, please! PLEASE!"

Your fire dulls to embers and you whine down at your lover, head lifted just enough to meet his eyes. He waits there. Breathing slowly. Each huff of air fans out over your begging cunt. Your eyes well up with tears at the lack of touch. Halsin hushes you sweetly, lips wrapping themselves around your clit once more. He laps at you in slow, painfully slow motions, his head bobbing slightly with the movements of his tongue. The aching builds again and you flex your stomach muscles, walls clenching tightly around the emptiness. The agonizing emptiness. Your sharp nails dig into his shoulders and he groans loudly into your folds. Teeth scrape over your clit, your hips bucking upwards quickly in response and you cry out. "Gods!" Halsin grins and moves his hands under your ass, pushing you up roughly against his tongue as we works you to the edge once more, listening for your change in moans before he pulls away again. You sob. Tears stream freely down your cheeks, back arching up off of the bedroll beneath you and you babble incoherently.

He repeats this process until you're absolutely broken, begging, screaming for him to give you what you so desperately crave. Release. You're positive your other companions are awake now, eating breakfast around the fire to the sounds of Halsin destroying you. The thought definitely arouses you further. He stands over your writhing body and kicks off his leggings, angry and erect cock springing forward. A thin rope of precum drips onto your thigh and you mewl. He bends over to grab your hips, hoisting you into the air. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, nails digging into the same spot on his shoulder before. Halsin hisses. You grin and try to sneakily lower yourself onto his cock, Halsin catching on quickly. He tuts.

"Patience. I want to savor you for as long as I can."

His lips crash to yours, tongue begging for entrance, the subtle taste of your cunt lingering in his mouth. You accept his advance, wrestling your needy tongue with his, a mesh of wet sounds filling the tent. Without warning, he lowers you onto his cock. You moan loudly into his mouth and he follows suit at the grip your cunt has on him. He breaks the kiss to mumble under his breath.

"By the nine hells, you're tight. This is going to be harder than I thought."

Your hands move down his back, nails dragging behind them, slicing long bloody marks into his tan flesh. He throws his head back, bottoming out inside of you before lifting you all the way off of him once more, tip popping out of you with an audible squelch. You keen at the emptiness. Slick drips down beneath you, creating a puddle on the bedroll. Halsin slides in again, then out, then in, teasing your insides. You growl in frustration.

"Fuck me, gods damn it!"

Tears sting in your eyes from the way he's toying with you. You can't take it anymore. Your entire body burns. Aches. Needs.

"I will, my heart. And I'm going to fill you to the brim once I'm done. Only then, can you cum."

Your breath catches in your throat. Halsin had asked to cum inside of you before. And you declined every single time. The idea of potentially carrying a child terrified you. He often reminded you of the resident cleric in your camp, had the need for her become necessary. Now.. Now you're intrigued. You quirk an eyebrow at him and nod slowly, teeth catching your bottom lip. You chew the skin there nervously before settling on a decision. You craved Halsin. Needed every inch of him inside of you. You agree.

"O-Okay.. Just please.."

Halsin slides in before you can finish speaking, the tip of his weeping cock slamming into your soft cervix. You cry out loudly, head falling back, jaw falling open. Your eyes cross, your fingers and toes go numb, you're floating now. Black spots speckle your vision as Halsin aggressively ruts up into you. Your walls flutter around him and he chokes on his breath, hips struggling to keep a consistent rhythm. He nears his end, and you're not far behind. He curses under his breath, grip on you impossibly tight, the indents his fingers leaving on your thighs and ass sure to bruise later. You cry his name into the air of the now steamy tent, the shuffling noises of the rest of the camp making you painfully aware of just how loud you're being. They definitely hear you. Halsin encourages your loudness, nails digging into the flesh of your ass roughly as he continues his thrusting, your entire body bouncing in his arms.

"Gods, I'm close. Beg for it. Beg for me to fill you, just as nature intended."

You pull yourself closer to him, torsos melding into one. Leaning close to his ear you let out a deliciously low moan, tongue working your way along his earlobe.

"Cum inside of me, Halsin. I want you to fill me up. Please.."

Halsin reaches a hand between the two of you, relying on your grip on him to hold you up and his fingers find your deprived clit, rubbing in furious circles. He thrusts one final time. Hot ropes of cum spew inside of you, the large elf grunting in pure ecstasy. He works your clit still, your climax very suddenly slamming into you and you scream his name. Your walls tighten around his softening cock and he slides out of you. You ride the waves, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen as you come undone. He holds you for a moment, cooing into your ear about how well you did for him, how much he loves you, how proud of you he is. You mewl and press tired kisses to his chest and shoulders, asking to be put down. He sets you on your feet and you squirm at the mixture of his cum and yours dripping down your inner thigh, legs barely able to hold you upright. You giggle.

"I need to bathe.. You've ruined me."

Halsin chuckles and pulls his leggings back on, reaching down to retrieve your nightgown and he hands it to you. You slide it on carefully, turning to catch Halsin taking another deep inhale of your underwear. You shake your head and he smirks in your direction, tucking the fabric under his pillow. "I'll be keeping these." He slides his hand into yours and leads you out of his tent, the rest of your companions snapping their attention to the two of you as they're finishing breakfast. Your face turns a deep shade of red and you lower your head in embarrassment. Yeah, they heard you. Astarion stands, moving behind Gale, placing his hands on Gale's hips and rutting playfully into his behind.

"Oh gods, Halsin! Please Halsin! I'm so close Halsin!"

Astarion mocks your loud moans, squeezing his eyes closed tightly as he pretends to cum. Gale rolls his eyes and shoves the vampire backwards, smoothing the back of his now crumpled robe down. Karlach and Shadowheart throw their heads back and laugh, Wyll shakes his head and sips his tea, blinking through the steam. You scurry out of sight of everyone, hand covering your face to somehow shield you from their taunts. Halsin slaps a hand onto Astarion's shoulder, leaning in to his ear, the smell of you still evident on his breath.

"Wishing she'd cry out for you like that, blood sucker?"

#halsin #halsin x tav #halsin smut #halsin fanfic #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #fic request

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 5 months

Text

Take my hand (we'll make it, I swear)

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 3

Prompt: Mutual pining

Rated: G

CW: Steve getting vecna'd; Some violent imagery

Tags: Idiots in love; Fluff and angst

Notes: Based on this beautiful piece of art by @house-of-the-moving-image and that one "Steve gets vecna'd" brainworm I've had forever.

It's always different in the stories, Eddie thinks. When the heroes in the stories realize they're in love, it always comes as this big revelation. The sunlight will glisten off the fair lady's hair, or her eyes will sparkle like the stars in the sky and the hero will suddenly realize that he is in love.

It wasn't like that for him. No dramatic moment, no sudden epiphany. It just sort of … snuck up on him over the past year, and when he noticed, it was too late. He had fallen, completely and irredeemably.

Then again, he is no hero. And Steve is most certainly not a fair lady.

He is still beautiful, of course, lying here in the soft, green grass, hair tousled by the breeze, golden highlights brought out by the setting sun. Eddie's jacket draped over him to fight off the chill.

He's asleep, finally, after what seems like ages, pulled under by the exhaustion of the last few days and that fucking Bon Jovi song blaring from his headphones on an endless repeat loop.

Eddie huffs, twists the daisy he has plucked between his fingers. If he strains his ears, he can just make out the words.

Take my hand, we'll make it, I swear…

Steve's fingers twitch in the grass and Eddie's gaze flies to his face, half expecting to find his eyes wide open and sightless, half expecting him to start floating again and fuck, what will he do, he can't do shit, please, God, he can't-

But Steve’s eyes are closed, his face relaxed. Eddie sighs in relief. Then, following a sudden impulse, he reaches out and tucks the daisy into Steve's hair.

He's no hero and he can't do anything to protect him, but he can make sure he rests while he has the chance, can make sure he has music and beauty and sunlight surrounding him. It's what he deserves.

He deserves so much more.

The harsh snap of the tape ending almost makes him jump out of his skin. Steve flinches awake with an adorable little snort, hand flying up to pull the headphones off. His eyes dart around wildly for a second or two before they land on Eddie and he sags back to the ground.

"Hey," he smiles, voice still sleep-slurred and hoarse. "Sorry, did I doze off?"

The flower is still in his hair.

Eddie snorts, pillows his arms on his knees so that he can hide behind them.

"Are you kiddin' me, dude? You can sleep all you want."

Steve hums vaguely and props himself up on one elbow, busies himself with opening the walkman and turning the tape.

"Feels wrong though," he mutters. "Y’know… just chilling here while the kids-"

"Stevie," Eddie says. Maybe it comes out a bit too harsh, because those pretty eyes blink up at him, confused and a little hurt. He groans.

"The kids are old enough," he then continues, more softly. "They have Wheeler and Buckley with them. Not to mention Supergirl. You don't have to-"

"-babysit them anymore, I know." Steve flops back into the grass, worries his bottom lip between his teeth. "I still feel useless, though."

They stay silent for a while. The wind is getting chillier, now that the sun is dipping behind the trees, and Eddie is starting to shiver in his flannel.

"Thank you, though," Steve mumbles. "For staying around, I appreciate it."

He sounds so small and lost and scared. Eddie plucks another flower so he won't have to look at his face. Hopes that Supergirl will tear Vecna's shrivelled black heart out through his ass and squish it under her shoe like a bug.

"Anything for you, Stevie," he says. Means it.

Steve blinks at him and quickly turns his head, but Eddie imagines he sees the ghost of a smile twitching at his lips.

"Eddie?"

"Hm?"

"I …" Steve watches the blades of grass glide through his fingers. "There's, um … something I've been meaning to tell you, but … I think I'm scared of what you'll say."

Eddie chuckles. "Oh, I already know."

Steve's hand freezes. "You do?"

"Absolutely, man," Eddie nods. "You're not being exactly subtle. There's no way the snack mix comes with that few pretzels, of course you're stuffing them in your face in the kitchen. I mean, be hone- ow!"

Steve has just punched his arm.

"It's not about the pretzels, you asshole," he grins, but then his face goes serious again. "It's… shit, I didn't want to tell you like this, I-"

"Then don't."

Steve's brow crinkles. "But-"

Eddie talks right over him. "You wait until this is over and you tell me when you think the time is right. I'll be there and I'll be waiting. Just like you. We're both gonna be there, okay?"

Steve huffs an exasperated laugh and scrubs a hand down his face, pinches the bridge of his nose. Then he yawns.

"Promise?" His eyes are very bright.

Eddie nods, smiles so wide that his mouth hurts with it.

"Of course. Now go back to sleep, dumbass."

Steve doesn’t protest as he pushes the headphones back over his ears and presses play, just settles back under Eddie's jacket and lets his eyes slip shut. Eddie listens to the opening chords of the song for what must be the thousandth time and wonders if he should take Steve's hand and promise that they'll make it.

Instead, he tucks the second flower into Steve’s hair and prays that it'll be okay.

All of my holiday drabbles

Part 2

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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frenchkisstheabyss · 6 months

Text

✶ Pendulum ✶

✶ Pairing: model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader

✶ Genre: fluff, angst, smut

✶ Summary: You visit Hyunjin on the night of his big art exhibit intent on closing this chapter of your life but he's not willing to let go that easily.

✶ Word Count: 1.2k-ish

✶ Warnings: Hyunjin's a lil bit possessive, fingering, nibbling, marking, and that's about it my loves

✶ A/N: This is part two of a Hyunjin/Minho love triangle fic that has come to emotionally wreck me but I love it and fingers crossed you will too! 🖤 part three is here 🖤

It’s been three weeks since Paris Fashion Week. Three weeks since you fell in love with Minho. Three weeks of falling asleep on FaceTime and sneaking little moments in with each other between your busy schedules. There was no way to anticipate that you’d come to mean this much to each other, your feelings deepening as the days go on.

Saying yes to that date with Minho opened the door to a new way of being cherished that only he can offer. But there remains a thread tied to the corner of your heart, tugging you back to your past. If you’re to step through the door that lies before you, you must first shut the one that lies behind...

And that’s what brings you here...

to an upscale art gallery a half hour before Hyunjin’s first exhibit. Crisp autumn leaves dance along the pavement, a ballet of deep reds and vibrant yellows, as you flee the chilly night air for the warmth of the sleek, rustic gallery. Matte black walls combine with polished cherry wood accents to give you the sense that you’re somewhere you can be comfortable. But not too comfortable.

You can already smell his cologne, cedar and spice, coasting through the air to greet you before he appears at the top of the stairs to your left. “You came,” he says, feigning indifference as he takes his time descending the stairs. After he broke your heart you insisted that he no longer held any power over you. The spell had been broken, or so you thought. So you hoped. But no such thing is true.

Hyunjin moves like a gazelle, his limbs long and graceful. He somehow manages to make the simple act of walking feel like a performance art piece. Tonight he’s pulled his hair back into a high ponytail, a few delicate strands left hanging to frame his now smiling face. Standing before you, he extends an arm, his hand patiently at your service. You slip out of your jacket, tossing it over his arm.

“Well, you said you wanted to talk so I’m here.” Hyunjin laughs, finding amusement in the way you’ve turned the tables. Pretending not to care when you both know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. “I was going to take your hand—” he starts, his gaze trailing behind you as you journey deeper into the gallery.

You always thought it a shame that people could never seem to get past his physical appearance long enough to see what’s truly special about him. Surrounded by his art, drawings and paintings he’d once only been brave enough to reveal to you, you can’t help but feel proud of him. “Hwang Hyunjin, jack of all trades” you sigh, stopping to get a closer look at a watercolor painting of butterflies whose wings seemingly melt down the canvas.

Hyunjin joins you, ignoring the painting to admire your silk black dress.

“Jack of all trades, master of none, but I’m still, I guess, better than a master of one.”

“Mmm, I don’t know about that. What’s so bad about a master of one? Maybe the master of one just knows where his heart is.”

The back of his hand strokes your arm, sending an electric current through your body. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that he’s moved closer. Close enough for the sensation of his breath on your neck to give you shivers when he asks, “Where’s yours?” “Where’s my what?” Your head snaps toward him, the accusatory tone of his voice triggering your defenses.

“Your heart. Do you know where it is?”

“You have no right to ask me that. Not when you broke it.” Every fiber of your being is telling you to run away and Hyunjin must sense it because his arms are around you before you can make your grand escape. “Don’t run from me” he pleads, “Just tell me what I can do to fix it.” You’ve never seen Hyunjin cry before but the moisture pooling in the corners of his eyes is a sure sign that you might.

Nothing can erase the pain that he made you feel yet you can’t deny what he’s done since to ease it. Showing up to Paris Fashion Week alone, refusing to arrive with any woman who wasn't you. Admitting where he went wrong when it came to being honest with you. Apologizing in every language he knows and in a few he doesn't. Professing his love for you openly among your social circle without a care for how sensitive they may think he is.

He’s stepped so far outside of his character that occasionally you had to pinch yourself to make sure his efforts weren’t all in your head. To ask more of him feels almost sadistic. “It’s not you” you admit, lifting some of the pressure from his shoulders, “I’m just, I don’t know. Afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“Of the piece of my heart that’s still here with you.” You love him still. And you can’t outrun it any more than you could the way your heart ached for Minho when he first touched your hand, comforting you before the red carpet all those nights ago. You hate yourself for it, wishing that you could make these feelings disappear, all the while surrendering to Hyunjin’s kiss.

He sweeps you into it without warning, no longer able to control the need to feel your tongue against his. Kissing him is that first bite of your favorite food after you’ve been deprived of it for far too long. Your senses are aflame, moisture creeping between your thighs as he presses your back to the wall. Hyunjin buries his face between your breasts, his tongue lashing and nibbling as they rise and fall with each bated breath you take.

Your fingers tangle with his hair, the tie that keeps his ponytail secure quickly slipping to the floor. “You have to be mine again,” he says, not asking but telling. Demanding. He raises one of your legs to straddle his hip, pushing a hand between you to knead your pillow soft thighs. “He can’t have you. I won’t let him.” Hyunjin kisses you all over, suckling at your sensitive skin to mark his territory.

Pushing his hips further between your legs, he teases the wetness of your panties, your clit already stiff enough to feel through the thin cotton. “Hyunjin, please—” you beg, not quite knowing what you’re begging for. Less? More? The arch of your back as his fingers dive into your core decides it’s ‘more’. He pulls back, his free hand reaching up to cup your cheek, “Say my name again.”

His fingers pick up speed, your walls spasming with each unforgiving twist of his wrist. “Hyunjin” you whine, gripping his shoulders to keep yourself from crumbling to the ground. He missed seeing you this way. Dressed up all pretty, lipstick smeared across your face, moaning his name. Your juices stream down his wrist, leaving tiny drops of your arousal on his sleeve. He welcomes it. Welcomes anything that’ll leave your scent behind for later. “Mine. Always mine” he repeats, circling your clit with his thumb.

You should’ve never come here. You should’ve stayed as far away from this man as possible. But there’s no use crying over spilled milk. The reality is that you didn’t stay away. Hyunjin called and you came now you’re coming around his fingers, allowing yourself to be claimed once more by the lust filled demons of your past. And, oh, what a glorious one he is.

#hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin angst #chubby reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids x you #plus size reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut

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maislovebot · 8 months

Text

Top 10 bsd characters oral scenarios: Chuuya Nakahara

I really just am not a fan of this one I’m not sure why. I think I rushed it too much. The Jouno chapter I’m posting tomorrow is much better though:D

Containing: afab reader, no pronouns, Mori being annoying, emotional crying, little bit of come eating, palming??, kinda pussy-drunk Chuuya, forced eye-contact

I’m sufficiently taller than Chuuya but I tried my hardest to make it so the reader could be any height:)

That dumbass Mori, his love to patronize anyone he has the authority to, has caused Chuuya’s number of long trips to almost triple, purely because he found out about your guys’ relationship. He didn’t even gain anything from it, he wanted to patronize Chuuya for his own entertainment. You being forced to go without seeing Chuuya in person caused an air of desperacy, you just wanted him to be with you again so badly, the penthouse felt empty without him there. You missed waking up and looking outside of the large windows and feeling him wrapping his arm around you, or when you two got up when it wasn’t a busy day so you two would lay in bed for a little longer than what was considered normal, after hours finally getting up to make breakfast. On busy days, Chuuya would wake up before you so he could get to work on time, leaving you to wake up from the lack of warmth in the bed twenty-five minutes later, then brushing his hair before he left for work.

You of course also missed the less wholesome parts of your relationship, and it showed by the way you sat in your shared bedroom, gently saying Chuuya’s name. You knew no one would hear you because the walls in this place are very nice and well built, but it felt awkward calling out his name loudly when it was just you there. Nonetheless, you were mindlessly rubbing small circles along your clit in the center of your large bed, the comfortable sheets surrounding you. This whole ordeal was as nice as it could be, considering just what circumstances you were under. While moving yourself closer and closer to your orgasm, you kept thinking of what you and Chuuya had done in the past, making you smile in a bittersweet way.

What you first thought of was of course when you two had first moved here and you were worried about people seeing through the large windows that practically took up the entire wall, before Chuuya confirmed that they were tinted so darkly, from the outside it looked like pitch black curtains were being draped over the entire wall, you could barely even tell it was a window. That made you calm your breathing down and you allowed Chuuya to make his way back between your thighs, rubbing small circles along your inner thigh to help your legs not tense up as much. God, you loved how he always rubbed along whatever was tensing up. You of course, also thought about when you sat on Chuuya’s face for the very first time, purely because he had gotten jealous and wanted you to envelop him completely, and in the afterglow he mentioned how the way you completely surrounded him was strangely comforting. Chuuya being the man he is, got embarrassed by his own words and shut you up before you could say anything by kissing you one last time before he got up and brought you to the restroom to shower and clean up. God, he had a way with his tongue, and his fingers too. He was good at whatever he did, and he knew your body so well that you questioned where he learned it all, especially considering you hadn’t told him the half of it before he figured it out himself.

You missed him, and your brain racing with different scenarios between you two caused the rising knot in your stomach to snap and you finally came on your bedsheets. Feeling a little embarrassed, you were about to stand up to clean yourself and the sheets, when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. For a moment you were worried someone had broken in, you were living in a nice penthouse after all, and Chuuya most certainly had countless enemies. You thought about it for a second and rationalized to yourself. Your breath hitched, realizing that it was Chuuya almost immediately after. You ran up to the door, despite your legs feeling a little shaky and your slick running down your inner thighs.

You opened the door and grabbed him tightly, resting your face on him. You mumbled some sort of apology for locking the door, but it was ignored by Chuuya loosely grabbing your hair and running his fingers through it, gently scratching your scalp. You reached and grabbed his hands, wrapping them around your torso before wrapping your arms around him again. Chuuya laughed before resting his head on you. You two stood there for a little bit before Chuuya looked down and noticed that you were only in your underwear.

“Nice.” Chuuya said while chuckling a little bit. You looked down, embarrassed before you wrapped your arms around him.

“I got comfortable.” You replied, laughing subtly. You were wondering how Chuuya hadn’t noticed what was covering your inner thighs, but you decided to not question it. You felt bad for leaving so soon, but you needed to clean up this awkward mess because it was honestly rather uncomfortable to stand around with your legs dripping.

“I‘ll be right back..s-sorry Chuu.”

Chuuya grabbed your arms before you could walk out of the door and leaned down.

“Why so fast?” Chuuya questioned, smirking a little. You jumped a little at seeing him quite literally get on his knees, and from worry of him seeing the mess you had made. Although you definitely couldn’t deny that his implications were stirring warmth between your thighs yet again.

“Come onn, we’ve been apart for so long, can’t you let me give you a warm welcome?” Chuuya grabbed your thighs loosely, trying to pry them apart. You clamped your thighs closer together harshly, and Chuuya looked taken aback, his eyebrows raising and eyes widening in surprise.

“Are you not in the mood? Sorry, I’ll—” Nakahara tried to sit up but you grabbed his hair perhaps a little too harshly.

“No—it’s just..” you trailed off, finally spreading your thighs just a little, Nakahara immediately saw just what you were trying to hide, realization hitting him harshly.

“Oh, I guess I really did leave you alone for too long. Look at you .” Chuuya said, tilting his head and laughing a little, his eyes narrowing.

You turned your head away, blushing and smiling a little.

“Hey. Look at me .” Chuuya demanded, unable to reach your head from his knees and instead using his words to make you do as he said. You turned towards him immediately, and looked down at him.

“Mind if I help you out? Right here, right now?” Chuuya questioned, pushing his body into your legs a little. You nodded, and tightened the grip on his hair again. You were so desperate, overcome with emotion and just overall needy to the point you begged him to go through with it before he even had the opportunity to tell you to beg.

“I’ve missed you so much. Please, please. I need you so bad. Something; anything.”

Chuuya began rubbing small circles along the inside of your thigh, before smiling and narrowing his eyes again, simultaneously lifting your right thigh over his shoulder.

“How could I possibly keep you waiting with that confession?” He turned his head, loosely grabbing your right thigh and kissing it simultaneously. He began to gently nibble on your thigh, still grabbing it just a little. You giggled slightly, and Chuuya raised an eyebrow.

“It tickles.” You explained. Chuuya shook his head as much as he could with his neck being right next to your thigh, also giving a playful sigh.

Chuuya was about to reply but he was interrupted by the way your slick was now dripping on his hands, and he unexpectedly grabbed the hem of your underwear and quickly pulled it down until it pooled at your ankles. He breathed in shakily and brought his face closer to your inner thighs, turning his head to just the right angle to reach your heat perfectly. Chuuya looked up at you expectantly one last time, before you nodded, giving him permission to do as he pleased. Chuuya’s growing hard-on began to throb slightly, but he ignored it for now, diving his tongue to your cunt between your folds, licking up the cum and arousal that had stuck to your inner lips.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” Chuuya whispered with a big smile on his face.

You were about to debunk what he said, reminding him that you both were separated from one another, but you were cut off by him darting his tongue out to your hole and thrusting his tongue in and out of you gently, moaning vaguely at the feeling. You on the other hand, yelped out very quickly, unexpecting. Chuuya reached up and grabbed your hips, pulling your crotch down as far as he could. You cried out a little more feeling his tongue go as deep as it possibly could.

Chuuya kept going at it, mind blank, head empty. Almost as if this was all he could ever want. Chuuya was getting needy himself, and wanted to feel you around him more than anything, but he still wanted you on his tongue so bad. He was extremely conflicted, and decided to just keep doing what he did best, that being pleasing you.

“Chuu—ah!” You almost banged your head against the door from throwing your head back so harshly, and you began to grind your hips down as much as possible in hopes of cumming faster. You needed his tongue so badly—yet you also wanted more, you were conflicted and all you did in response to that was grind your hips down desperately. Chuuya on the other hand, struggled to even comprehend what you were saying out of sheer determination. He had his eyes and mind set, and he’d be damned if he gave up now. He kept fucking you with his tongue, before moving his right hand up to rub small circles on your clit, then lightly pinching it, making you jerk your hips down out of reflex. After you began to clench around his tongue, he whined a little, moving his left hand from your thigh to his crotch, rubbing himself through his pants, helping out his body that was begging for stimulation at this point. With him knowing you were close, he delved his tongue to your clit instead, licking it in small strokes. He brought his fingers down to your hole and slid inside himself remarkably easily, your precum working as a wonderful lubricant, and pumped his fingers slowly, a great contrast to the amount of vigor used with his tongue.

Everything was so much, Chuuya’s absolutely immaculate work with his tongue, the way he did it all with so much enthusiasm and of course the fact that you guys were finally together again after being apart for so long, you began to tear up. Chuuya hardly even noticed because he was so focused on making you tremble, and his pure determination had you cumming on his tongue in a matter of seconds, making you cry out. Only then did Chuuya notice that you were crying.

“W-Woah—is everything okay?” Chuuya quickly questioned, pulling away and removing your thigh from his shoulder quickly. He stood up so he could seem more genuine, and you promptly hugged him while grabbing the back of his head, moving his lips to yours. You closed your eyes as soon as he made contact with you and Chuuya’s eyes dilated before closing his as well. He moved his hands to grab yours and hold them, fingers intertwining as you rested them on either side of your thigh, being held in place by Chuuya’s grip. What started as a surprisingly chaste kiss became different once you brought your tongue out, gently caressing the tip of his before he followed suit.

As you two stood there, Chuuya questioned what had happened.

You two sat there for as long as you both could before you loosened your grip on his hair and he pulled back at the given opportunity. Chuuya looked down and began panting with you, before you grabbed his chin and made him look at you.

“P-please.. I need you so bad. You can do whatever you want! Ruin me if you so please, just please, let’s do something more. I need you” You pleaded while making an expression he couldn’t possibly say no to.

“ You have me .” Chuuya replied, before picking you up and carrying you over to your shared bed, lying you in the middle of it, kissing your tears off of your cheeks once he laid you down.

Guess you finally got what you wanted.

Wc - 2.1k

I tried so hard to use Chuuya’s surname to be respectful but it felt so wrong😭

Jouno chapter here

#bungou stray dogs smut #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #nakahara chuuya #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader

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anantaru · 2 years

Text

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟔 — 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐗

✦ kinktober day 26 — phone sex feat. xiao : diluc : kazuha : ayato x fem! reader | kinktober masterlist.

✦ warnings: nsfw : modern au

✦ 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

you could clearly hear xiao‘s hard breathing on the other end, it was deep and guttural, coming from his throat. "i just know." his voice broke in midst his words, desperate panting followed, "i just know you look so fucking hot right now." he bit down on his lower lip right after finishing his sentence to prevent himself from whining into the phone. "are you doing it just how i told you to?" the ring in your voice was innocent, pseudo innocent and he knew.

xiao replied with a firm hum, looking down as he fisted his cock in slow languid strokes, exactly how you told him to. He imaged it being your hand, yours was smaller than his, not to mention that it looked so much hotter wrapped around his erected cock, as if you were made for him. You smiled deeply upon hearing his whines— that he tried to hide prior, escape his plump lips, unable to control the aching heat in between your legs.

your hands wandered down your body, fondling with your perked up nipples before running your digits past the waistband of your damp panties, rubbing your slick over your aching folds to have them fully coated. You moaned as you prodded the first finger in, eyes becoming half lidded, xiao was trying his hardest to hold onto the phone to be able to listen to your angelic sounds. The speed on his fist was increasing as the both of you took it to the next step, desperately chasing for your climax.

✦ 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂

"i miss you." you‘re pouting, holding the phone in between your shoulder and head as you lazily got rid of your pants, plopping onto the bed afterwards. "i miss you more, love." diluc sounded tired, frustrated even, sitting in his leather chair while listening to your babbles about every topic you could‘ve come up with. "how much did you miss me?" your voice was a bit higher than usual, smirking seductively as if he was actually able to see you through the phone.

Your hand was unable to stop playing with the hem of your shirt, showing off how needy you became from merely his voice. You carefully slid your fingers right underneath the garment to feel your bare breasts, hissing upon brushing over your erected nipples. "so fucking much." you could hear how needy diluc had become, knowing full on well what's about to happen next, it only took him a few minutes until he cupped his groin, lazily thrusting up his hand. His adams apple throbbed against his throat as he took a thick swallow, his pants growing tight, it was becoming uncomfortable for him, more so annoying as he huffed out angrily.

for a moment he placed the phone next to him to push his pants down until they hit his knees, finally freeing his erected cock from its confinements. He placed his thumb on his tip to spread the precum while listening to your addicting voice. You sounded beautifully, making it difficult for diluc to search for any form of self control in his body. "diluc?" you suddenly asked, your voice showing a glint of humor, the small whines getting stuck in his throat as he just hummed an answer. "tell me what you‘re doing right now?" your question came apathetic, as you full on knew what your lover was practicing right this second, "love." a smirk carving up the corners of his mouth, "do you really want to know?"

✦ 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀

kazuha carefully listened how you stuffed your sweet pussy full with your fingers, pushing them knuckles deep in and out while he jerked himself off to the sounds. "tell me how you're doing it, everything." his voice was gravelly, wishing he was there to pleasure you himself yet he was so incredibly busy, unable to do so. "i want you kazuha." you're whining, your fingers just weren't doing it for you tonight, you needed the real thing, you needed him.

your damp panties were lazily shoved to the side, cunt aching and pulsating from the small torture you inflicted on yourself. Kazuha chuckled at your desperate words, tiptoeing towards his sweet release as he jerked himself off harder. His hips bucked up frantically into his hand, the precum drooling down from his tip to his knuckles as he carefully spread it over his shaft. "you won't know what hit you once I'm back." he let out a breathy chuckle.

hearing kazuha's response to your needy pleas was arousing, you couldn't help yourself but moan out crying into the phone to tell him how much you were missing him right this second. Kazuha tightened his grip on his throbbing cock, twisting and turning just a tiny little bit, so that it can feel like someone else's hand was jerking him off, imaging your hand. Even though the small mind games he was playing on himself weren't helping too much, in combination with your addictive voice, they were good enough to make him hold onto that little sweetness until he was able to see you again.

✦ 𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎

"fuck." you sobbed brokenly into the phone, angling your hand a bit so you could reach deeper into your cunt, one finger buried inside. "add another one." ayato commanded as he listened carefully, his hand wandering down south where it ached him the most. His pants were growing awfully tight, it felt like torture to him. he let his boxers sit at his thighs, taking his terribly erected member out.

ayato repositioned himself slightly so he could sit more comfortably on the bed, his v-line flexing at the attempt. "i can't use another one." you're whining into the phone, your palm faintly sweaty as your grip on it tightened. "you can, i know you can, trust me baby." ayato's breathing became more erratic, still holding onto his usual deep tone as he started off with slow strokes, gradually increasing the pace he was going for.

you trembled, a soft 'okay' leaving past your plump lips as you added another finger to your play, prodding it against your hole, pushing it in. The following sounds you made were almost unbearable for ayato to keep listening to them, he hated how he wasn't able to visit you now, not to mention how he wasn't able to bury his much longer fingers into your tight cunt, making you cry out his name yourself. "good." chest rumbling as he chuckled, "if you can make yourself cum without my help, i will make sure to have a little reward for you next time."

kinktober masterlist.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #xiao x reader #xiao smut #diluc x reader #diluc smut #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut #ayato smut #kinktober #genshin x you #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato smut #xiao x you

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mareagirls · 1 year

Note

Hi! If you’re ever in the mood to write a sickfic I like this idea.

Peter and reader are on a date, but reader feels nauseous. But, reader doesn’t want to tell Peter because a: they’ve both been super busy lately between Spider-Man duties and college and/or work and b: because even if reader won’t admit it, being vulnerable and being taken care of kind of scares them. But Peter finds out/figured it out and wants to help and fluff ensues.

Anyway, it’s just an idea. No pressure to complete (obvi)! Hope you’re doing well and drinking water! <3

~🥧

hey pie anon! i hope this is okay and i'm sorry it's months late! I forgot it was in my drafts :')

You realise something is wrong when you’re only a quarter of the way through your pizza and Peter is over half way through his.

You feel sick. Or at the very least least like you might be - nausea brewing uncomfortably in your stomach as you take small bites of your food.

Your boyfriend chats away opposite you, blissfully unaware that you've started to feel queasy, so you plaster a smile on your face and swallow hard. The two of you have been incredibly busy for the past few days between your work and his vigilante duties, and the last thing you want to do is ruin the first peaceful moment you’ve had together. You can tell how much Peter has needed a little normalcy. The thought of ruining it because you’re feeling a little off feels incredibly selfish.

Beyond that, you're not used to letting people take care of you, and though Peter has told you countless times that he likes doing it, you can never quite dislodge uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability that blooms in you whenever he does. Letting yourself be loved, allowing Peter to look after you when you're not feeling too well - they're processes. You've been trying to work on them for a while, but it's difficult. It always has been.

You’re just trying to rub at your chest discreetly when Peter looks up at you from his almost empty plate.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes! Yeah, everything is fine." Your reply comes out wobbly and you only realise afterwards that you’ve made too much of an effort to sound alright. You smile at Peter through gritted teeth and try foolishly to convince yourself that if you pretend the nausea doesn't exist, it'll go.

Peter doesn’t look like he believes you for a second.

"Are you sure? Do you not like your pizza?" He pushes his own plate towards you as if it's the easiest thing ever, offering you his last two slices. "Here, baby. We can swap."

The tender easiness in the gesture very nearly makes you want to cry. Peter Parker might just be the loveliest boy you’ve ever known.

"No, Peter it's okay. My pizza is good,” your hands shifts slightly to rub against your abdomen, Peter tracks your movements cautiously. “I'm just kinda full I think.”

Your boy raises an eyebrow at your barely eaten pizza but nods, never one to push you for explanations.

"I'll ask for the bill and a box to take the rest home. We can have the ice cream in the freezer when we get back. How's that sound?"

The thought of ice cream makes you feel queasy, but Peter seems so hopeful and he's looked so tired and sad in the past few days that you cant help but indulge him.

Once you’ve gotten the bill and packed your leftover pizza into a takeaway box, Peter takes your hand in his and guides you out of the restaurant.

New York City in the evening is a sensory nightmare, but your nausea does abate slightly thanks to the fresh air. You catch Peter looking down at you and stamp an awkward smile on your face.

"Home?" He squeezes your fingers gently.

Your stomach churns at the thought of having to go so far, but Peter is looking at you like you've hung the moon and the stars - the journey home feels a little more bearable with him by your side.

"Yes please."

"You okay to walk?"

"I'm fine, Peter. I promise."

"No, you're not, baby. And that's okay, you don't have to tell me what's wrong if you don’t want to. Just let me take care of you."

You sigh, resigned. You don't even know why you tried to hide it from him. Peter can quite literally hear your heartbeat, of course he was going to clock that you're not feeling too well.

Peter keeps his body angled towards yours as the two of you walk, and you soon realise that he's shielding you the best he can from the light around you and all the bodies rushing past. It's a small gesture, one that he might not even realise he's doing, but makes your chest flutter pleasantly

Then, just as you think that maybe the nausea is easing up, another wave of discomfort overwhelms you and you stumble.

Fortunately Peter catches your wrist just before you can do any real damage, balancing your pizza box in his free hand. He helps you back up easily, his fingers a warm pressure on your skin.

"Woah. Hey, hey, sweetheart. Let's just stop for a second, hm?"

You are mortified, and very sorry about how inconvenient you're being but when Peter pulls you to a stop, you oblige. Tears swarming in your eyes, you make one last ditch attempt at snuffing out the discomfort by pushing your face into the soft sweatshirt your boyfriend is wearing.

You feel him go still and for one horrible millisecond, you think he's going to push you away, but then Peter’s body relaxes and he presses you against him softly, almost as if he's afraid to hurt you.

You mumble into his chest. "I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, you don't have to apologise," his lips are soft against the crown of your head. "You're good. Let's take a moment, alright?"

You nod, sniffing slightly.

"We're nearly there. Just a few more blocks to go."

Something like a whine gets stuck in your throat and Peter coos gently, a hand coming up to cup the back of your head. “I know. You’re alright, honey. I've got you.”

You straighten up after a few seconds, aware that this is not at all what he signed up for when the two of you left the house, and Peter frowns a little.

"You can lean into me, baby. You're not a bother."

And you do know, because he's said it to you countless times before in different variations. I like being there for you. You don't have to apologise. I'm here for you, it's kinda in the boyfriend job description.

Peter doesn’t have to repeat himself. When he nudges you closer, you lean in.

Once you’re at home, Peter lets go of you carefully, never taking his eyes off you as he reaches into his jacket pocket and pull out the keys to let you both in.

He places the pizza box on the microwave in the kitchen before following you through down the corridor, a hand ghosting the small of your back. When you reach the bedroom, he dims the lights.

You sit on the bed gingerly. Peter sits next to you.

"How are you feeling?" Peter asks.

You’re quiet for a while. Then, a small admission;

"I feel really nauseous Peter." You avoid his gaze. "It started in the restaurant. I don't... I don't know what's wrong."

Peter is silent for a beat. You take it as a sign that you've said something wrong.

"It's fine though. I'm sorry for ruining the meal. I know you were looking forward to this." your voice is hoarse. "I’m really sorry."

When you muster the courage to look up at him, Peter looks horrified.

"Baby, what are you talking about? You didn't ruin anything. It's okay." His hand comes up to brush at your jawline. "I got to spend time with my best girl. I feel like the luckiest guy alive."

You think he might be exaggerating just to make you smile, but there's real sincerity in his tone. "Do you want pain relief? Some ginger tea, maybe?"

Right now, you only want Peter.

"Can we just cuddle for a bit, please?"

"Oh, my girl." Peter is already pulling you down so that you're lying against his chest. "C'mere."

#peter parker imagine #tasm peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #fic recs #mareagirls musings #tasm x reader #peter parker one shot #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm peter parker x you #my works! 💌#i cannot believe i have finished writing something 😭#it’s been MONTHS #i’m so rusty

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cassiachales · 25 days

Text

Journal Entry Four [[And Grayson Hawthorne’s Lips] Yes, His Lips]

note: still can't belive the amount of love this silly little self-indulgent fanfic is getting. y'all are the reason i write <33 this chapter is also *slightly* longer than the others taglist: @f4iry-bell, @never-enough-novels, @reminiscentreader, @dahliawarner, @lanterns-and-daydreams

Saturday– It’s been four days since I last saw the reason I bought this journal. Xander’s been demanding to know what happened on Wednesday, and though I really want to tell him, I want to keep that moment to myself. A secret between me and a certain Hawthorne. I’m busy wondering what we are. Acquaintances? Friends? Something with bigger feelings? I don’t know and that keeps scaring me. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Sometimes, you wish you didn’t like guys who wear suits and have dry conversations.

But you can’t help it.

Xander’s on the floor, his hand on his forehead. “Why didn’t the pebble work?”

“Wait, so you were the one who put the pebble there?”

“I thought it would work.” He moans. “It should’ve worked.”

You don’t tell him about how Grayson’s fingers were on your waist and how they still left a phantom touch.

You don’t tell Xander about what Grayson said.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── “How do you do this to me?” ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

And you can’t get his voice out of your head. Low and seductive and you can still feel the featherlight touch of his lips at the curve of your ear.

Grayson’s been ignoring you. When you arrived at Hawthorne House that morning, you’d seen him.

You’d almost said hi when he brushed past you as though he didn’t know you, and Xander had seen it.

“Someone give that guy a dose of happiness.” Jameson had said, his hands around Avery’s shoulders.

And now, Xander was busy moping about how his attempts to set the two of you up had failed miserably.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── He asks me that question as though I know the answer. The only answer I want to ask is: HOW DOES HE MAKE ME WANT HIM?? Yes, he’s attractive. Yes, he’s absolutely amazing. And yes, I might be a little bit in love with him. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You get up from the floor, patting Xander’s head. “I’m gonna go get you a drink.”

He groans. “I hate drinking.”

“You definitely look like you need one.”

“I do, actually.” Then he perks up, as though there’s another idea in his head.

“Xander, don’t you dare–”

“Grayson’s office has the best scotch and wine.” He begins, ignoring you.

“I am not getting whiskey from his office.”

“Oh, you definitely are.”

“I am not.”

“Do you want a chance with him or not?”

Obviously, you do. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to go to Grayson Hawthorne’s office and get a drink from there.

“You are going to go get your own drink.” You say, crossing your arms. “I am not going to go into that prick’s office.”

“Gotta love how he developed from being a hot guy to a hot prick in your eyes.”

“Who said I still find him hot?”

You didn’t care if people called you petty. If Grayson would ignore you, you would ignore him.

Simple.

Xander gets up, nudging your side. “At least get the whiskey.”

“You’re a drunkard.”

He shrugs.

You sigh.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── I am definitely the dumbest person on the planet for actually going to the office and getting the whiskey. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You walk down the corridors and go up staircases before you find his office.

You knock.

“Come in.” He says, and his voice sounds as though he’s half asleep.

You can’t help but wonder when, exactly, he’d actually slept through the night.

Opening the door, you step in, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re in surprise.

He says your name.

And god, you love the way your name rolls off of his tongue.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” You whisper. You didn’t mean to talk to him about that, but the words escape you.

“Not on purpose.” He whispers back, getting up from his chair. The desk is littered with papers and he looked half-buried in them.

“It seemed like that when you just walked by me like I was nothing.”

“You could never be nothing, Not to me.” He says, and he walks towards you before his back straightens and he looks away.

Until then, until he looked away, you’d believed you could have actually been something to him.

Now?

You feel as though someone is going to take a hammer to your heart.

“How dare you say I could never be nothing and then look away? How dare you play with my heart?” You say. You’re fuming, you can’t believe that you were falling for a man like him.

Until you see him quiver. His eyes are mad and his whole body is shaking, like he wants to say something but the words just won’t come out.

He walks to you, your chests almost touching.

His hands are quivering when they’re on your arms, touching you with a featherlight touch, as though he can’t quite believe you’re real.

“Why can’t I think straight when you’re with me?” And then he says your name, and you’re falling.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── He looked at me like I was the only person alive. Like I was the reason his heart was beating. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Whenever I look at you, I cannot think. Whenever I see you smile or laugh, I feel the sudden urge to join you. Whenever I hear your voice, I feel like I am a damned man and you are my only chance at salvation. How? How do you have such an effect on me? Why is it that you are the only person who crowds my mind? Why can't I help but want to be with you? Why do I want you?

I don’t know. I don’t know why–or how–you consume my thoughts. I have never been able to give my heart but to you? When I am with you, I want to give you all of me. I’ve never been so unsure of my feelings, and then you came along.

I think I love you. I think I am hopelessly in love with you.” Your name rushes from his lips like it’s a prayer.

You can’t breathe.

His lips are nearing yours, and then they stop when they’re a finger’s breadth away.

“I’m afraid that if I kiss you now, I’ll never feel like stopping.” He says, his voice in a low whisper. “But I’m also afraid that if I do not kiss you now, I’ll never be able to think of anything else.”

For two seconds, the two of you stay still.

Then: “Can I?”

The barest of nods.

His lips are on yours and you feel like you’re on fire.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Oh, no, I’m not writing the rest of it down. I’m afraid someone will find this and read this journal and just because of that, I am not writing anymore. But I will say this: his lips are extremely soft and his kiss is like a secret that he never wishes to give away. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Journal Entry Three

#grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #au #avery kylie grambs #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #the inheritance games #x reader #fanfic

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scarletteye · 1 month

Text

Soft and Smitten Scaramouche/Wanderer

I went through my scara fics recently and giggled at my own writing whenever Scaramouche acted soft/smitten. So I figured if I can be delulu about it, you can be delulu too!!!!

I made a smol collection of some of my fave moments, where I lowkey just explore his dynamic with someone he is smitten with (in my fics case, its the reader character) and appreciate how drop-dead gorgeous he is.

GORGEOUS I SAY. anyways, enjoy the clipsss, the fic will be linked at the end of the post! This story takes place in his Wanderer era! Just a heads up. I also can make a collection of him being smitten in his Scaramouche era, just lemme know if u want it!

Without further ado, I present to you: Scaramouche in love!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The Withered in Bloom Ch. 14

It was ridiculous to think that basket weaving could take whole 5 days to finish, yet as soon as you woke up, your brother notified you that they need your assistance with the baskets. At least he let you enjoy breakfast before he hurried you to the busy deck. All of your forest-ranger colleagues greeted you excitedly – everybody was over their job, and everybody wanted to finish the baskets as soon as possible. This was supposed to be the last day. The rest of the week was predicted for a full inventory check, but that was a job for the Forest Watchers.

You found a relatively cozy spot on the ground and began weaving. At this point your fingers had memorized the necessary movements, allowing you to work on autopilot and tie the basket together without mistakes. It also allowed your mind to wander, and you found yourself thinking back about the Sanctuary of Surasthana and your last conversation with Scaramouche. (...)

As if on cue, you heard the song of bells flutter through the air. A warm breeze blew across the deck, scattering away a few pieces of straw and bringing the melody to your ears. Though the sound filled your skin with goosebumps, you felt your lips twist into a gentle smile.

It had been a few days since you last spoke to him. He asked you for secrecy before you left, so you never disclosed your past or anything that was said between you to anybody. Though you weren’t sure whether Scaramouche told you to keep quiet because he was ashamed or because he didn’t want to burden anybody else with knowledge about your past. You agreed with him nonetheless. Your brother seemed happier since Irminsul changed your reality. Cyno seemed happier, too. He was less paranoid, and he allowed himself to relax with Tighnari instead of constantly watching you like a hawk. You weren’t planning on telling them anything.

The bells became louder. You heard his faint footsteps behind you – even and light strides that were barely audible behind the chiming of his hat accessories. Feeling his presence, you put your half-finished basket down, and turned around to face him with a smile.

He stood above you, wearing a deadpanned expression as he looked down at your heart-warming gesture. His arms stood crossed against his chest.

“Good morning,” you greeted warmly.

“It is noon,” he retorted blankly.

“Oh. Wait. Really?”

Seeing your genuine confusion, his lips pulled into a lopsided smirk. He untangled his arms and walked in front of you, finding an empty spot on the ground where he elegantly plopped down. “Obviously. Have I ever lied to you, darling?”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Seriously?” he huffed. “I’ve never told you anything dishonest. I merely kept the truth from you at times.”

His fingers gingerly reached for the box of straw that you kept at your side. He began pulling out pieces, skillfully finding long straws that he could twist and tie together. Scaramouche was silent as he worked, focusing on the knots that his slender fingers tied with ease. The straw looked sturdy in his hands, whilst seeming extra frail in yours. Perhaps it was the way he held it that made it seem like an entirely different art form.

“When did you learn how to weave baskets?” you questioned. Your gaze was locked on his hands that worked diligently and quickly, creating an entire hoop of straw in less than a minute.

“I’ve been alive for nearly 500 years,” he mused. “Do you think I had spent that time living isolated from the world? I know more than you’d guess.”

It was still strange to you to think that he wasn’t human. He looked like everyone else. He looked soulful and alive – like a normal human who is just slightly more attractive than the norm. Whenever you looked at him, you didn’t see a puppet nor a monster. Truthfully, you didn’t care what he was anymore. If you could live through him being a God, you could also accept that he had been alive for hundreds of years.

Scaramouche eyed you carefully as he noticed your silence. Catching a glimpse of him doing that, you offered him a gentle smile. “Like what?”

It was his turn to fall mute. It seemed as if he didn’t expect you to be interested, or rather he expected you to be shocked and horrified by his life span. In the end Scaramouche only shrugged, and his fingers continued to twist the straw into hoops and knots. “Anything you could think of.”

“Playing the lyre?”

“Why?” he questioned you now. “Is there any specific song that you like hearing?”

You snapped your fingers as a shout of victory. “So you do play the lyre!”

Scaramouche rolled his eyes at you. “Yes, darling. I can play the lyre. I am skilled in swordsman ship, and knitting and weaving arts…” his voice trailed off. “I suppose I am well skilled with my hands.”

You blinked at him, feeling heat surge to your ears. His expression remained unchanged, and it seemed as if he didn’t notice that he said something questionable. Or maybe, you were the weird one for finding dirty undertones in something that wasn’t meant to be dirty.

“Well. Skilled with both hands and mind,” he continued, now sounding as if he were bragging. “I suppose I am just exceptional.”

You cleared your throat. “Humble brag.”

Scaramouche shot you a glare. First he looked at your rosy face, and then at the basket that remained unchanged under your hands. “Do you plan to let me do all of your work?” he grumbled. “I didn’t come here to become a Forest ranger. If you plan to slack off, I will leave and let you abuse someone else’s goodwill.”

“I didn’t even ask you to help,” you defended yourself.

“Well if I don’t help you, you’ll be stuck doing this for the rest of the day. And as much as I enjoy watching you struggle, I’d prefer if we could do something else.”

“What a charmer,” you grumbled, forcing yourself to start working on the basket again. You worked slowly, repeating the weaving patterns that you always used. Scaramouche passed you the hoop that he had created. As your fingers grazed his, you felt a strong flutter in your stomach. You tried to act normal as you cojoined his creation to yours. The difference in style was more than apparent, and it made the basket look ridiculous. He didn’t seem to care, and he instead continued to grab pieces of straw to make more.

You worked in silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence. Every now and then Scaramouche would toss you a complaint or a masked compliment regarding the basket, but you preferred for him to be silent. There was just something about him in this lighting. Sunlight hit his face perfectly, illuminating his purple eyes and making his red make up seem more vibrant. You liked the way his brows furrowed as he concentrated, and you liked the way his accessories jingled in the breeze. His pretty hat and the golden accents nearly shone in the sunlight, and the sheer mesh of his undershirt seemed lighter than it did in the shade. His Anemo Vision silently glowed against his shoulder, falling nearly hidden by the lotus that hung over it, and weighted down by the golden feather accessory.

Now you knew what that lotus flower meant. It was the same type of flower that he gave you before your first kiss. The same type of flower that you gifted to him as an apology. He kept the memoir.

You smiled to yourself, failing to notice how Scaramouche stopped working to observe you. His eyes glazed your entire face, and his expression turned more relaxed with each passing breath.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The Withered in Bloom Ch. 15

You were so pleasantly surprised by Scaramouche's behavior that you decided to award him with tea - the most bitter vile mixture you could make, but he drank it all without complaint. It seemed as if he enjoyed the bitter taste and you hardly held back from calling him insane. You were someone who preferred sweet over bitter. Though, that stark difference between you was the lightest among the bunch.

You spent the entire afternoon sitting with him and moving around Ghandarva ville to avoid chores. You mostly talked about your family and how they felt about Scaramouche after last night, and he seemed to listen carefully, despite looking distracted.

Noticing how he was observing the remnants of the tea that decorated the walls of the mug, you nudged his shoulder and began to tease him. “Are you trying to read your future? I heard that the tea leaf technique is quite rare.”

He looked at you unamused, before forcing a smirk. “Naturally. Divination is a very taxing profession. Only those with exceptional talents can dabble with fate.”

“Exceptional such as you, of course” you decided to entertain him. “So what do the leaves say?”

“They say I’m about to become very, very lucky.”

“It is nice to know that the leaves want you to have a good day,” you nodded enthusiastically. “What else?”

He let out a chortle. For a split second, his smile turned genuine, and then his face fell to its usual serious position. You felt your heart fluttered. Did you just make him laugh? Did you just…

“Let’s see,” he twisted the mug around. “Here we have. Prophecy of being lectured by a god. The curse of a blabbering companion who can’t keep her mouth shut. And oh…” he swiped his finger against the inside of the mug, tapping it against your face and staining your skin with green. You leaned back in surprise.

You watched him with big eyes. He smirked at you before putting his mug down. “I can’t believe you fell for that. Have you learned nothing from your journey? You shouldn’t be so naïve.”

“Was that some sort of Inazuman trick that people use on children?” you asked, wiping your face that began heating from embarrassment. “Because I will kick you off the deck.”

You were sitting on the edge of the second level of the village, far from anybody. Night was falling over the rainforest, and in turn the air turned louder. Cicadas, birds, signing rangers… the sound of warm evenings and of eternal summer. Every night in the rainforest sounded similar. The sky turned darker with each passing minute, showing more and more stars to those that paid attention.

It had been a while since you sat like this to watch them. In fact, the last time you did, you were with Scaramouche. Back then you knew him as the Wanderer, and you never expected him to be anything else. That night he told you horrible stuff – about you being abandoned and about you never finding true family. It made sense to you now. He projected his insecurities onto you that night, and they hit you deeply because you two, despite your differences, weren’t that fundamentally different.

“It’s not a common trick,” he stated. As he put the mug aside, you noticed his expression turn more sullen. “But the people that taught me used it on me a few times. I suppose it just stuck with me…”

You tilted your head curiously. You wanted to ask. You were actually dying to know more about him, but you knew how he got when asked sensitive questions.

He sighed. “If you must know,” he grumbled, sensing your curiosity. “They were a group of swordsmiths and miners who operated the smelting furnace in Tatatarsuna. It’s an island in Inazuma. The furnace was the biggest in the nation and used to smelt special ore that they could shape into finest blades. I’m not sure why I’m pointing that out. It is irrelevant,” he mumbled, sounding annoyed by himself all of the sudden.

“Oh. No. Actually, I never heard of it so…”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Okay, you don’t have to insult me now.”

“I’m not trying to,” he grumbled. Realizing that you were accidentally stopping him from telling his story, you cleared your throat and looked up at the sky. As you fell silent, he realized that you were waiting for him to continue. All thought your act was theatrical, it worked. He continued to share some light on his backstory. “I was a child. I had just wandered off alone to the shores of that island, when they found me. Needless to say, they were horrified to find somebody like me. Alone and abandoned. They pitied me and took me under their wing. There, amidst the mine, I believed I had found family.”

His eyes dimmed. He was looking at the sky, but his mind wandered off to the distant past. “They taught me all the basics of your human lives. How to tie knots. How to prepare meals. How to shape swords from molten iron… They were just a group of good-hearted men who tried to raise me. They tried to entertain me by using tricks and jokes. The trick with the mug. Anecdotes. Quizzes. The more I think about it, the more I realize just how unnecessary those were.”

You looked at him. Your heart felt full because of his story. You always believed he never had a family. It seemed as if he did. They even sounded lovely but… the look in his eyes told you that there was more. Maybe something happened to them, or maybe they disappointed him somehow, because the look in his eyes told you that it wasn’t a pleasant memory.

“It sounds like they really tried to give you a happy childhood.”

“I suppose,” he responded dully. “It doesn’t matter anymore. That was a long time ago. A mere fraction of my life.”

“But… that doesn’t make it meaningless, does it?”

He looked at you, seeming seldom-annoyed and seldom-comforted. It was always difficult to tell with him. In the end, he let out a sigh and looked up at the sky. The stars had grown clearer, showing you a beautiful painting of the galaxy.

A cold breeze flew past you, and you shivered. The night was drastically colder than the day, and you had left your jacket in Tighnari’s infirmary when leaving your teammates. You swiped your hands across your arms, trying to warm your skin.

“Here,” Scaramouche quietly said. He began untying his tunic. It covered him somewhat loosely, so it wasn’t difficult to get it off. He had trouble with getting his Vision off without damaging the Lotus that he strung close to it, but other than that, his tunic was off in a few seconds. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander to his bare shoulders. The sleeves shirt that covered his torso left little to the imagination, but at night it looked dark enough to hide his skin under it.

Your eyes stayed on his bicep for a bit too long because you were sure he noticed. The corners of his lips twisted upwards, and despite his best attempt to control his facial expression, he showed exactly how much your stares entertained him.

He wrapped his tunic around you, and you huddled under it gratefully. It was warm. As warm as his body whenever you hugged him. And it smelled like him too. You realized you were a bit too fond of that feeling once you pulled the tunic all the way over your chest. You weren’t that cold, but the sheer comfort of being in his clothes nearly convinced you that you would be freezing if you took it off.

“Had I know you were freezing, I would have suggested we head indoors,” he teased. “Though, considering how much you’re staring at me; I’m guessing you are finding this quite enjoyable.”

You were at a loss for words. Your brain felt empty – there was no excuses and no explanations for you to use. Your face turned red, and you were incapable of hiding it. The least you could do was huff and roll your eyes at him. “Somehow you’re more charming when you’re trying to insult me.”

There it was again. A glimpse of a genuine smile that made you feel crazy flattered. To think that you were capable of getting this kind of reaction from him was mind boggling. “I never try to be charming, darling. But I am glad to know you find me as such.”

“Oh great. Now I’m boosting your ego.”

He tilted his head at you. The red allure of his make-up. The darkness of his cunning eyes. You found yourself unable to breath or blink. He was gorgeous. From head to toe, there wasn’t a single part of him that looked flawed.

“Why are you smiling at me?” you quietly questioned.

“Does it bother you?” he asked with the same tone of voice. “I was merely thinking that you look pretty.”

Your lips departed in surprise. All that left them was a quiet breath. The heat of your face reached your ears, making you feel as if you were going to break a sweat at any given moment. It wasn’t fair how easily he made you flustered without even trying.

Scaramouche’s fingers gently traced your face. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers linger on your skin. His touch was so gentle yet so chilling, be it the coldness of his skin, or the knowledge of the power that he had over you. You didn’t care to differentiate them.

With a feeble hold on your chin, he leaned closer. Your breath hitched, and he paused right before you lips touched, sensing your nervousness. Maybe he wasn’t sure if you wanted it, or maybe he thought you got frightened, but his pause prolonged. Your stomach burned with anticipation and desire. You could catch his breath into yours. You could feel the warmth of his body heat. Why did he think to stop?

You closed the gap between you. Your lips softly clashed. His were soft and warm; they moved timidly against yours. Breath against breath, he pressed deeper. You accepted his guide. You accepted the growing hold of his hand on your chin, and you accepted his eager lips. You felt the desire to hold him closer. To have him closer. And your hand traveled to his bicep, trying to fulfill your desires.

Your lips grew hungrier. Deeper. Sloppier. He pushed with more force; his hand slipped from your chin to the back of your head and you accepted his move. It made you crazier. Thirstier for his warmth. Your hands snaked around his shoulders, feeling his exposed skin and the thin fabric that hid the rest from you. You hugged around his neck, drawing him closer.

For a second, your lips slipped off his, and a shiver rolled off his tongue. It filled your stomach with hotness. Made your lips hungrier. Pushier. He tasted intoxicating. He tasted perfect. Bitter like the tea that you had made him, and sweet like the sugar that you had poured into your own cup. The two polar opposites melted in your mouth, failing to quench you.

His hands traced down your body; tingles fluttered through your system, unnerving your stomach and making you crazier for him. Your fingers tangled in his hair. You were trapped in between his arms. Trapped under him as he loomed over you. A quiver escaped your mouth as you struggled to keep your sloppy lips on his.

You both paused as your lips departed, staying tied in each other’s proximity. You listened to his unorderly breath, feeling each of his breaths as tingles on your skin. You felt your heart forcefully beat against your chest, and you were sure he could feel it too consider how close he was. His warmth was driving you insane. His perfect scent and his perfect hands that held you sides now. You were eager to have more of him. To taste him for longer.

Your lips grazed his proactively. He caught you in an instant, returning the gesture by pressing deeper against your lips, and you melted as soon as you tasted his tongue. His fingertips pressed against your sides, holding you firmly and possessively. He put more force into your kiss, and your mind turned foggy beyond recognition. You couldn’t think anymore. All of your senses were focused on him. His scent. His taste. His harshness. His unorganized breaths between your sloppy dance.

Tangled in each other, preoccupied with your desires, you failed to be careful. You were reminded you were sitting on the edge of the deck only after his clumsy fingers grabbed at the ground, and accidentally knocked over the mug that he had put aside. It loudly clanked, nearly falling over the ledge before he hastily caught it.

He reacted so quickly that he practically jerked himself of your lips, and you were left leaning against his cheek. Drawing uneven breaths against his skin as he looked over your shoulder to make sure that the mug stayed away from the ledge.

“Darling,” he whispered against your ear. His voice sent a rush of heat down your entire body, and your lips nervously pressed together as you tried to swallow the feeling down.

“Yeah?” you whispered back.

“I think we should get away from the open ledge.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The Withered in Bloom Ch. 17

The afternoon turned quiet and still as you found yourself free from work. You were done with all your tasks quicker than usual thanks to Scaramouche. He hadn’t left your side all day, despite admitting that Kusanali was impatiently waiting for him to return to the Sanctuary or Surasthana. You didn’t try to shoo him away, knowing that he would be gone for a few days once Kusanali gets Her hands on him. You figured you could at least enjoy his companionship as long as you could.

Dirty and sweaty from hard work, you were desperate to take a cold swim at the waterfall. This time you didn’t let Scaramouche anywhere near your room as you grabbed your stuff, still feeling embarrassment as you walked past your bed. Memories from last night intruded your mind despite your wish to not think about sinful things. It was difficult to turn a blind eye to it, and the tips of your earns burned a stark red as you found yesterday’s laundry still piled on the floor – carelessly tossed aside by Scaramouche.

He patiently waited outside of your hut, and silently followed you outside of Ghandarva ville once you had everything you needed. With a towel and a clean shirt over your shoulder, you led him across the dry forest path.

A few finches flied overhead, one of them trying to rest on Scaramouche’s hat. He let out a scoff and swatted them away, and you tossed him a confused glare which instantly made him stop. Being liked by animals was something that every ranger would be jealous off.

The waterfall greeted you with its familiar loud rustling. Water poured over the stoney cliff, showering the blue pool with a strong and majestic flow. Even standing next to it felt amazing, as millions of micro droplets splattered your skin with coldness. It was perfectly refreshing.

You smiled brightly at the feeling, failing to notice Scaramouche who silently observed you as you gleamed in the waterfall’s blessing. You began stripping off your clothes, stopping once you were in your undergarments. You rested your clean towel and shirt against a boulder and slowly made your way to the pool. Hearing rustling, you couldn’t help but turn your head to look at Scaramouche. He took off his tunic, carefully resting it with the rest of your clothes; his Vision shone brightly against the boulder’s surface, illuminating the lotus that decorated it. It somehow looked as fresh as it did when he first attached it to his Vision, making you question if he constantly picked new lotuses, or whether Kusanali tampered with it to keep it looking that way.

He took off his hat, putting it with the rest of his clothes before he proceeded to take his shorts off. He noticed you staring, and he looked at you in surprise before his lips pulled into a smirk. You hastily looked away, but you knew that you were too late.

You sat next to the pool, dipping your legs into the cold water. You had to get used to the temperature before getting in. Scaramouche plopped down next to you, still wearing that same smirk from earlier as his thoughts seemingly greatly entertained him.

“Are you not going to get in?” he questioned.

“It’s cold,” you said. “I need to get used to the water first.”

He hummed in agreement. It wasn’t long before Scaramouche slipped into the water. He didn’t even flinch. Goosebumps dotted your arms at the mere thought of getting in, but he didn’t seem to mind the cold at all. He turned towards you, and you instinctively put your hands up as a shield. “Please don’t splash me.”

“I won’t.”

You put your hands down. Scaramouche slowly swam over to your side, stopping once he was standing in front of you. He looked up at you with a solemn expression. Every hint of arrogance was gone, and his face turned soft. Sentimental. He came closer, putting his hands on your thighs and gently pulling your legs open to make space for his body. You suppressed a shiver at the sudden iciness of his touch. The cold water didn’t seem that different from how his skin usually felt. But in your mind, his skin was as hot as the night prior.

Scaramouche rested on the stone between your legs, his dark gorgeous eyes not once leaving yours as he leaned his head against your thigh. Your lips fell open and then closed. Scaramouche’s gaze turned you breathless. Oozing with honey, his usually dark eyes sparkled in the waterfall’s shiny blue atmosphere.

He was mute; you were his entire world in that very moment. The center of his eye, the only meaningful, tangible thing… You didn’t know what to think. You couldn’t think. You were mesmerized by the loving eyes with which he gazed up at you.

Your fingers gingerly passed through his hair, messing his purple strands as you pulled them up from his forehead. He nuzzled deeper against your thigh, watching you still as you brushed through his hair.

Your heart fluttered; your heartbeat had long become unbearably fast since he first approached. The heaviness of his honeyed gaze rendered you completely still.

The waterfall’s continuous rustling turned to distant noise. The iciness of the pool bellow you became miniscule. Scaramouche felt so much warmer than the water that you briefly associated him with. His gaze; the loving, sparkling brilliance in his eyes. It warmed you from within, tugging at all of your heartstrings at once.

Your lips pulled into a smile. The joy from your heart threatening to spill from your mouth in the form of laughter. It was unimaginable to you that this man was yours. That you were the one he looked at with such endearment. That, despite his cold and expressionless nature, you somehow ended up helping him feel.

His brows furrowed slightly, knitting together into an innocent and questioning arch. He was puzzled by your smile.

It was as if he only then became aware of his expression. Only then, he realized how much he had relaxed around you. How enchanted he had become by your presence. His face quickly shifted to its usual cold exterior, proving to you once and for all that it was always an act. He frowned at you, leaning away from your leg and body.

“You are taking too long,” he said. Before you could say anything, he swiped his hands across the pool surface and splashed you. You yelped, pulling your knees up as cold water dotted your stomach.

“You said you wouldn’t splash me!”

“I made no promises."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

okay te-hee. i'm still giggling. I hope you enjoyed! I decided to not gatekeep the kiss in the second clip so~

You can find the fic on my Ao3, right here. Withered in Bloom is the third book in my series "A Puppet's Heart". Hope you enjoy if u do end up reading it!

And as always, if u enjoy my writing, I also have a ko-fi and more fics on my ao3 account <3

#ao3 writer #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #ao3 author #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin scara #soft #smitten people acting grossly in love #he went through character development #it took 3 books yall

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dr3ams-c0me-tru · 9 months

Text

Ballister has always been uncomfortable in the spotlight. It's understandable - the media was never very favorable towards him.

So, when Ambrosius asked him on a date for the first time, it was in a quiet moment after training. He made sure they were away from the other cadets and escaped the guard that his family still thought he didn't notice followed him.

Sore, tired, and a little sweaty, they stopped just outside Ballister's room, and he twisted his gloves in his hands nervously. Bal, misinterpreting his faraway gaze, bumped his shoulder against Ambrosius'.

"Cheer up, Goldenloin. It's no fun to kick your ass if you're going to mope about it."

Ambrosius looked up to see Bal's teasing smile and fond eyes, and couldn't help but smile back.

"Knights don't mope, they brood," he corrected. Bal laughed in response, and Ambrosius knew he couldn't live another second without this man in his life.

"Go out with me," he blurted, and Bal's whole body seemed to freeze. Ambrosius swallowed. "Please," he added, as an afterthought. Bal's mouth dropped open just a bit, and his big, brown eyes shown with an emotion Ambrosius longed to read.

Ambrosius felt nerves bubble up in his chest and start to escape his lips, what he was sure was half-coherent nonsense that only vaguely resembled the sentences he'd rehearsed the past several days. "I'd love to take you to dinner tonight, or tomorrow, if you're busy - and we don't have to do dinner, it can be, um, a walk, or-or..." He gulped again. "Whatever you want."

His heart pounded, and he thought if he could step out of his body and take a look, he could see his whole body thumping with the momentum.

The past few months, he'd wavered between the absolute certainty that this little dance they'd been doing together had been slowly leading to this - to something more, something that made the longing in his chest make sense - and the doubt that it was all in his head. That Ballister - witty, strong, compassionate - would never feel that way about him. The niggling insecurity that shadowed so much of his life - do they like Ambrosius, or simply the status of Gloreth's descendent.

After a moment that felt both like a second and a thousand years, Bal smiled shyly at him. "That would be nice. Love - uh, I'd love to."

"Yeah?" Ambrosius hardly breathed.

"Yeah." He confirmed. "Tonight?"

"Tonight." Ambrosius agreed, smiling brilliantly.

________________

Ambrosius has never loved the spotlight per say, but it’s where he grew up. It was a game he knew how to play well, and, sometimes, it was even kind of fun.

So, when Bal proposed to Ambrosius, he made sure Ambrosius was in center stage.

They were unveiling the new and improved Gloredome after the destruction done to the last one. They were having a ribbon cutting ceremony, celebration, the works. As he stepped out on the stage, he felt the crowd's energy buzz through him.

Beside him, a few of the knights who have been helping him rebuild and reimagine the Institute and the kingdom; and, of course, Bal.

Ambrosius turned slightly from the podium after he finished his introduction speech, thanking the people, the sponsors, construction crew, and everyone under the sun who had even thought about the new building. Quickly, he caught Bal’s eye and winked, a small, silent greeting to convey to Bal that he appreciated him here. Ambrosius had learned a lot from recent events, but one of the biggest lessons was that he never wanted to look around and not see Bal again. Ever.

He turned back to face the crowd and looked up at the teleprompter reminding him of his lines.

“As wonderful as all our contributors are, I know you folks are ready for the main event. The Gloredome has always been more than a building. It is where we come together as a kingdom, cheer on our knights, and so much more. I’m excited and honored to be here to open the doors and bring our people together once again,” Ambrosius continued.

“With that being said, there’s just one more question to ask: Will I say yes…” Ambrosius trailed off, squinting in confusion at the teleprompter as it fed him lines he didn’t remember rehearsing. Will I say yes and make my boyfriend the happiest man in the kingdom?

Gasps suddenly popped up throughout the crowd, and, instinctively, Ambrosius again turned to Bal to see if he knew what was going on.

Bal wasn’t where Ambrosius had seen him last, though. Instead, he was just a few steps away, one knee to the ground, and a hand holding out something small and glimmering.

Vaguely, he could hear the crowd roaring behind him, but it was a dull noise compared to Bal’s words.

“What do you say? Will you have my hand, in marriage this time?” Bal asked, and Ambrosius couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of him. They had worked so hard to get here.

“Yes. I’ll have all of you, always. Please,” he felt like he was begging, despite Bal being the one on his knees, but he quickly remedied that by dragging him up and in.

They kept it short, conscious of the crowd around them, but Ambrosius still took a moment to rest his forehead against Bal’s, savoring every detail, from the angle of the sun reflecting in Bal’s eyes to the warmth of his hands on his waist. “If you’ll have me.”

“Only you. Always.” Bal promised. He took his hand, and smoothly put the ring in place on his finger.

Feeling the dopey grin taking up his face, Ambrosius finally gave into the urge to whirl back towards the crowd and pump his fist in the air.

“Whoo!” He let out, and the crowd answered, as they always do, “Whoo!”

He had a lot to make up for, things to unlearn, and hurt to repair when it came to Bal. He’d let Bal take the lead, letting him decide what he was ready for and when. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Bal, that Bal was more important than any one else, any title he might have, any fight they might stumble into. He worked hard to prove that to Bal, to make up for the lies and betrayal they’d been through. He still doubted himself, wondered if he was doing enough, but if Bal thought they were ready, if he wanted to declare, in the front of the whole kingdom, their devotion to each other, then, well…

Ambrosius wasn’t going to be stupid enough to doubt him again.

#goldenheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister boldheart #ballister x ambrosius #nimona 2023

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fallatyourfeet · 1 year

Text

Good For Business (Jealous Tommy Shelby x Female Reader) Part 2/2

Completed

Summary: There is still no doubt that you're good for business, but maybe you're a little too good. And Tommy can't handle the consequences.

Reacquaint yourself with part 1 or read it for the first time here.

Word count: 1838

Warnings: Swearing. Jealousy. Reader being disrespected.

A/N: This was a long long long time coming. It was written in patches over a long period of time. So, I really hope it doesn't feel too disjointed. It’s actually the first thing I've posted in 5 months, FIVE, but I do hope it's not so long before I post another.

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

Tommy sat in his favourite restaurant, at his favourite table, with a tumbler of his favourite whisky residing in the palm of his hand, marveling you. You really were, good for business. The man sitting across from him, a man renowned for being nearly impossible to deal with, was like putty in your hands, and you weren’t even trying to turn on your charm. It was just you.

Bringing you along to this business deal was not an easy decision. Since that glorious day in the office of the Garrison, you had virtually lived in each other's pockets, but that didn’t mean he wanted you getting involved in his shady day to day business. Working at the Garrison as a paid employee was one thing, but getting directly mixed up in his business deals, well, that was an entirely different matter. But leaning back in his chair watching you unravel this tightly wound and notoriously difficult man, with a simple smile, was something to behold.

This very lucrative deal was for all intents and purposes, legal. However, Tommy’s long-term intentions were not exactly above board, and the very difficult and strait-laced, Joe Robertson, knew it. On multiple occasions he had refused to meet with Tommy on the account of his reputation, so when he finally agreed to sit down and talk, Tommy did his research. Not wanting to take anything by chance and blow the only opportunity he might have of securing a deal with this man. He left no stone unturned, barely falling short of knowing what he ate for breakfast. And boy, did Tommy pull out all the stops. But Joe was seemingly unimpressed, and Tommy thought all opportunity was lost. All until it was time for you to join them at the restaurant.

They were already sitting at the table; drink in hand, barely exchanging words with the contract lying forgotten on the table. Then you breezed through the door, instantly catching Joe’s eye. And that was the moment Tommy wondered, if maybe the only moral weakness the honourable Joe Robertson had, was you. A string of beautiful, well-dressed women had filed through the restaurant door for the past 45 minutes and he barely even noticed them. But your warm inviting smile and natural charm, had his features flickering to life and suddenly expectant when he realised you were being ushered towards them.

Both men stood up when you stopped at the edge of the table, Tommy offering you the seat between them, making introductions as he did so. “Joe, this is Miss Y/N Y/L/N... my better half... Y/N this is, Mr Joe Robertson.”

Tommy’s palm gently caressed your back as he guided you to your chair, noticing how the contact seized Joe’s attention, his eyes lingering on Tommy’s hand with a touch of jealousy. And yet, he nodded politely and greeted, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Y/L/N... I see Tommy’s good taste isn’t restricted solely to tailored suits and fine whisky.”

Your answering smile was stunning, and your words playfully disarming, “Yes. It seems his good taste also extends to future business partners too.”

Joe laughed, the effects of your playful flattery showing in the redness of his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he took a breath, “Well, we’re not quite there yet, but the evening has suddenly taken a more promising turn. Tell me, Miss Y/L/N, do you often accompany Mr Shelby to his business meetings?”

Tommy leaned across the table, reaching for the bottle of champagne he lifted it from the wine cooler and poured a glass. Handing it to you, he found himself holding back a smirk when you took a sip, savoured it, and replied, “No. But if the champagne is always as good as this, then yes, I do believe this meeting will be the first of many.”

Tommy relaxed back into his chair and lit a cigarette, happy to take the back seat while you worked your effortless magic. And the man was instantly under your spell.

With a nod of his head, Joe leaned towards you, his voice lowered just a little, “Well then, I’ll make sure to have a bottle of the finest champagne waiting for you whenever Mr Shelby and I arrange a meeting.”

Taking another sip, you settled into the curve of your chair and smiled. It was warm and genuine, and the hum leaving your lips formed a distinct appreciation for the champagne, before tipping your glass towards him, and replying, “Then let’s not leave it too long between drinks, Mr Robertson.”

The normally hard features of the strait-laced businessman were suddenly soft and pliable when he connected the edge of his glass with yours, “Let’s not.” And Tommy found himself butting out his cigarette to once again, sit back and appreciate his whisky, whilst marveling you.

And before long, you had done all but secure his signature across the dotted line of the contract. And yet, Tommy grew uneasy. Yes, Joe’s features remained soft and pliable as he soaked up every smile and word you spoke, but as the evening progressed, Tommy felt his upper lip tighten when Joe gazed a little too long across the silky skin of your bare shoulder. Fought the impulse to narrow his glare when he admired the soft curve of your bust with a little too much appreciation. And found himself rapping his cigarette case a little too forcefully against the tabletop, when the man, renowned for his unrivalled morals, failed to disguise the growing vile thoughts in his eyes. But Tommy endured it. All he needed was Joe’s signature and he would never have to see you spend another moment with the man. Surely, he could endure it for that long. Surely.

Dessert had just been ordered, and Tommy had managed to remain civil, when you stood up and brushed your hand across his shoulder, reaching for your clutch you excused yourself, “Gentlemen... excuse me a moment, while I disappear to powder my nose.”

Nodding his head, Tommy smiled, watching your retreating form as you made your way towards the ladies. Turning his attention to Joe, he found him doing the same, the hungry look in his eyes doing nothing to lessen the tight grip Tommy had around his tumbler. When you finally disappeared behind the door, Joe picked up the contract and reached inside his jacket pocket for a pen. “I think we have a deal, Mr Shelby. My lawyer has already combed through the contract you sent him and gave me the green light to make my own decision. However, there’s just one condition I’d like to add.”

Penning down an amendment to the contract, he skipped to the final page and signed it before pushing it across the table to Tommy, speaking as he did so. “I had no intention of signing this today or making any kind of deal with the likes of you, but I am willing to make an exception... if... you accept my ‘additional’ request.”

Not liking the edge that Joe’s voice suddenly carried, Tommy took a long slow breath in a calculated effort to calm himself. Yet, the strain still showed at the edges of his mouth, his voice harder than he intended, “an ‘additional’ request?”

Gripping the sides of his glass, Tommy’s fingertips turned white, his resolve almost shattering when his free hand sifted through to the amended page of the contract. There it was. Your name. Written in the ink of Joe’s messy scrawl. ‘A whole night with Mr Thomas Shelby’s better half, Miss Y/N Y/L/N.’

‘FUCKING WHAT?’ Tommy screamed the words inside his head.

Staring blindly at the page, the single sentence blurred into a mess of blue ink, the typed black font of the contract all but invisible to him. Clearing his throat, Tommy closed the contract with unnerving calm, though his internal dialogue was ropeable, ‘The fucking gall of this man. Who the fuck does he think he is? Does he fucking realise who he’s dealing with?’

While it was true that Tommy’s virtues in the muddy world of business deals, were at best, questionable. And all he needed was to scribble his name right beside Joe’s signature, and the deal was done. Somehow, the thought of sharing you to secure probably his most lucrative deal to date, left him seething. Not to mention the poor whisky residing in his hand at risk of spilling across the table, if the crystal tumbler finally succumbed to his choking grip.

Lifting his head, he stared coldly into Joe’s eyes. This man. This so called, ‘moral honourable’ man, was requesting a night with you. One whole night to do with you as he pleased. Did he think you were some cheap common whore? With a deep breath, he raised his brow, his voice low and threatening, “Y/N is not a commodity of the Shelby Company, Mr Robertson. She cannot be bought sold or bartered with. And she is certainly, no whore”

Joe shook his head casually, “I’ve never been interested in whores, Mr Shelby... I’m interested in the lady currently powdering her nose.” Then leaning across the table, he tapped at the contract a few times, before offering Tommy his pen, “If you want this deal to close, you’ll sign this paper now... I will not consider any other deal.”

It took all of Tommy’s strength to keep from tipping the table over and grabbing the smug fuck by his collar. Wanting nothing more than to roll his hands into fists and break the man’s jaw. Would render so much gratification from seeing his smug pompous eyes roll around in his head. But Tommy had bigger plans, now. Forget the fucking contract. He didn’t need it anymore.

Taking Joe’s pen, he slipped it inside the pocket of his jacket, and stood from the chair. Emptying the whisky into his mouth, he grabbed his cigarettes, before taking the contract and rolling it up like a newspaper. Handing it to a passing busboy, he tipped him generously, before instructing, “Burn these worthless papers in the kitchen, eh?”

Standing there a long silent moment, Tommy watched the boy rush off towards the kitchen, just as you made your way out of the ladies. It could not have been more perfect timing. Turning his attention to Joe, he calmly smoothed over his jacket, before buttoning it up, then leaning towards him spoke with a cold and steely voice. “You’ve just made a big mistake... one big fucking mistake... You’ve disrespected the wrong woman, Mr Robertson. This is not going to end well for you.”

Taking you by the arm, he could see the confusion in your features, and the questions spilling from your eyes, but you said nothing. Nor did you even look back at Joe when Tommy spoke his farewell. “Apologies for the early departure, but I’m sure you’ll understand. I have a whole night to spend with this lovely lady... and I’d rather not waste any further of our time with you... Good night, Mr Robertson.”

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby imagines #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine

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