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#I always forget it exists until I see it or hear mention of it
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Actually, divinity may be the worst Christmas dessert/candy of all time thanks
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kinopio-writes · 2 months
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Hello dearie!!
How are you? I hope you're doing well!
I saw that your asks were open,and your content is really cool and silly,So I decided to leave you a nice ask to enjoy!
Could I have a headcanon platonic! Alastor,Vox and Husk finding a random child next to their dead mother, except that they don't really understand that she's dead and think she's sleeping,so they pity the child and take them in?
The child is really polite and nice,pretty calm,too. Sure,they do child stuff,like running around,being excited,etc,but they still are more calm than others.
They always talk about their mother,how she's the only one left,and how they love her.
Would the characters say the truth? Would they lie?
I just love hurt/comfort and platonic relationships so :3
Anyways,I hope that's not too much,and that you enjoy writing this!
Have a really nice day,don't forget to drink and take breaks!
Stay proud!
-Nina <33
A/N: Thank you for the reminders, heh. Btw, I’m going to have to change the reasons as to why they took you in because I just don’t see characters like Alastor and Vox taking you in because of pity. Sorry about that. The rest is untouched. You’ll still get a bit of that hurt/comfort (mostly from Husk, lol. Both Alastor and Vox are non-existent, but Alastor is somehow better than Vox).
Warnings: Mentions of death
———
Alastor, Husk, and Vox adopting a deceased mom’s child
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Alastor
• Alastor paid no mind to the dead corpse
• it didn’t really look that appetizing anyway
• “How unfortunate.” You heard a weird voice from behind you as a hand was placed on your shoulder. “A child mourning in the demise of its mother. Tragic, really. You have my condolences.”
• “What are you talking about, mister?” You stared up at the mysterious man, watching his eyes flick from your left to right eye while his grin only grew as the seconds went by
• “I think you’ve just found yourself the perfect dwelling,” he abruptly said, letting go of your shoulder to fix his bowtie as he sprung back to life. “Why don’t you come with me?”
• “But what about my mother?”
• “She is in good hands, I can assure you.” He offered his hand to you. “Come along, now. Children shouldn’t dwell long in places like these.”
• and so he took you in to be a patron at his hotel
• I mean, what’s more easier to redeem than a child? (assuming you’re a sinner. I don’t know if it’s canon anymore that only hellborns can reproduce. Look at Cannibal Town’s people)
• he intended to leave you in the rest of the residents’ care while they could only guess what his actual motivation was for taking you in
• but it seemed you ended up favoring him more than the rest
• you’d follow him around like a duckling—a lost puppy—you’re attached to him like a leech
• and you’re so well-behaved, too
• up until he leaves your sight
• he actually leaves the hotel a lot more often now because of that
• he finds you wrecking chaos in the hotel entertaining as hell
• and the fact that the others beg him to come back to calm you down
• I don’t think you would ever know what happened to your mother
• even when you talk about her a lot
• those rambles never really prompt him to say anything
• well, it’s not as if he knew what happened to her
• but, hey, at least he listens!
• maybe it’s because he feels a little nostalgic hearing the way you talk about her…
———
Husk
• Husk was fucking spooked when he found you lying beside your dead mother
• not because of the corpse, but because of the way you were staring at him
• with eyes dull and wide open, just like your mother
• while Husk wouldn’t have given two shits if it was a grown-ass adult, you were a child
• so he took you in
• “But what about my mother?”
• “Shi—I, uh—your momma will tag along soon. Now c’mon. She wouldn’t want you out here alone.”
• since Husk is constantly around the hotel, there were never really instances where you wreaked havoc
• you just silently watch him tend the bar and sometimes talk about your mother
• your talks about how much you love her make him feel pretty guilty for some reason
• but he’d probably tell you when you’re older enough
• only if you were asking him about her though
• he wouldn’t want to have to sit you down and tell you something that sensitive of a topic when you didn’t even ask
• “Why don’t I have a mother?” you would suddenly ask when you turned 18
• today was your birthday. Charlie insisted on having a little party for you just like every year. But you didn’t want one; you wanted to be with Husk for the day
• the man in question sighed
• he knew you were building up the courage to ask all day
• “I’m gonna give it to you straight, kid, I don’t know what exactly happened to her. All I know is that she’s in a better place.”
• “Oh…”
• “Do you…wanna talk about it?” He continued, voice a little unsure, “Not as a bartender…but as a dad.”
• you smiled, grateful. “I think I’ve already said plenty when I was younger. But thanks, Dad.”
• he smiled back
• you two would then sit in silence together, basking in each other’s presence
———
Vox
• so, uh, I’m going to have to completely skip the taking you in part with Vox because I genuinely cannot see him adopting a random child (unless he could gain something, but, like, you’re just a kid)
• so you’ll just get the aftermath of it (hope that’s okay)
• based on the way he handled Val’s tantrum, I think it’s safe to assume that he’s somewhat good with children
• but he’s a pretty busy guy
• he doesn’t have the time to take care of a random child, so he’d make sure to keep an eye on you on his cameras
• but despite that, your existence in the tower warrants his
• as you’re too chaotic whenever he isn’t around
• but only around the other expendable employees
• you’re relatively well-behaved when Velvette and Valentino are with you
• but he doesn’t exactly trust them to take care of you
• they aren’t exactly good with children
• so he tried doing video calls
• you will definitely grow up as an iPad kid
• he’d hear you talk about your mom during those calls
• he’d let you go on and on, but it’s not guaranteed that he’ll listen
• I don’t think he would ever tell you what happened to her (he doesn’t know, anyway)
• he won’t lie, he’d just work around your question
• skillfully
• like, extremely so
• even if you ask him directly, he still manages to dodge the question somehow
• I don’t know what else to say, he’s gonna be a pretty distant father—
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disneyprincemuke · 5 months
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our spot * ls2
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a text from you is the last thing logan expects when he's back home for the holidays especially when it's your first text in almost two years
pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of infidelity
notes: YOOO how is it that i've been screaming about oscar and sebastian for weeks yet i write about logan first anyway? hope u enjoy this bc i OFC enjoyed breaking my own heart while writing this &lt;;/3
super long read btw, it's like 3.7k words
(f1 masterlist)
(part two)
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logan isn't back home very often. he doesn't exactly have the chance to, given his circumstances. so when he is, it's typically a nice breath of fresh air. because that's where you are.
or at least, used to be.
he doesn’t hear from you often anymore. since he’d gotten busier with his promotion to f1, it’s been a lot harder to keep in touch with you.
admittedly, he does miss you. but what right does he have to tell you that outwardly?
the only way he knows what’s going on with you are whatever you let the public know of yourself. your instagram posts and stories don’t come often, so logan might as well consider you a stranger.
he only knows one thing, that his mother let slip over the phone during their call, that you’ve started seeing somebody recently. he doesn’t know if you’re still together — the man his mother speaks of doesn’t exist on any of your platforms.
perhaps it’s because it’s only hearsay? but you’ve always been sort of a private person yourself, so he’s not exactly surprised.
logan sighs to himself, rolling his chair over to the window that faces what used to be your bedroom. the window is shut with its curtains drawn.
you moved out the moment you turned 18. he once had your address when you gave it to him, and he kicks himself over the fact that he never got around to visiting you and seeing how you’ve come into your own.
he never got to see the apartment you would talk about growing up and all the decorations you planned on putting up.
he wonders, did you ever keep the framed picture with him when you went to disneyworld as kids? did you bring it with you?
logan huffs and pulls down his blinds. he turns to face his room, leaning back into his seat. it’s the holidays, but there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do with absolutely nobody.
his friends have all gone back to visit and spend time with family. he spent his first couple of days with his family, but even they’ve got better things to eventually.
all he can do is train for his next season.
he decides to finally get up to his feet, grabbing the gym bag that sits on the edge of his bed. he’s just about to drive to the gym when his phone lights up his dim bedroom.
a notification from you that makes his heart race and hands shake. a text from you is the last thing he expected out of his visit.
he hasn’t talked to you in nearly 2 years.
heard ur back home
he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. he doesn’t write a reply immediately, so much hesitation and confusion mixing in his mind.
it’s taken him so off guard that he comes to a realisation that he doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore.
just for the holidays, im headed back to the uk after new year’s
your response is quick.
our spot
logan’s got no idea what you mean by that. until another text from you comes in.
10 minutes. see u
oh. you’re actually asking to see him.
suddenly he’s got no idea what to do. does he actually go?
he’s pacing around his room, frantically searching for the things he’d need to go and see you. which, wouldn’t actually be much. just his phone, his wallet, and
his gaze lands on the sad pile in the corner of his room, trinkets he’s collected from traveling the world in his first season. collected just for you, like you’d always talked about growing up.
now begs the question: does he bring it with him or does he just forget it ever existed?
doesn’t matter. he grabs his phone and wallet, heading out the door. his history with you is never spoken about.
maybe once, on a drunken night in australia with oscar. when he asked logan why he’s still visibly single, logan explained his situation.
how you kissed him the day he was leaving to stay in europe to fully commit to his junior career. how you’d called him every single night when you were teenagers, waiting around months at a time for him to come by for a short visit.
how you told him you loved him one evening when you were 19, in london when you were over for a visit. and how he had to put it on hold for his junior career, and never had the chance to get around to it because of his commitments to formula 1 now.
he had put it on hold, thinking you’d be around forever for him to come back to. he knows now that he’s never been more wrong in his life.
oscar never brought it up again after seeing the american choke on his words and laugh nervously as he retold the story.
when he found out you were seeing somebody, his heart broke. but he couldn't get himself to ask you about it. he knows it's his fault that you're in somebody else's arms now.
he quietly pads through his home, trying to pass his family members who have all resided in their individual bedrooms. even they've got no idea what's gone down between you two.
as far as they're concerned, you just simply drifted apart with time.
he parks his pickup truck right between the methodist building and what used to be the school you attended together growing up. he sits behind the wheel, eyes scanning the dark for any signs of you being here.
it's not a very far drive, only 5 minutes from his house and yours. just a playground that you used to hang at when you were growing up. when the world got too loud, this is where you'd come to regain composure.
he'd caught you one evening sitting here all alone when you were 8, and it's become your spot for late-night talks ever since. right on that green slide is where logan told you that he wanted to be an f1 driver when he was older.
it was on that blue swing that you admitted the crush you've had on him your entire life, and he reciprocated.
his heart races in his chest, unsure if you'd meant what you texted him. what if you bailed and this was all some sick twisted joke you're pulling on him?
and a random car pulls up in front of the methodist. he anticipates the moment you'd crawl out of the driver's seat, looking different from the last time he saw you - which was about 2 years ago when he last talked to you.
but after about a second, the backseat door opens, your leg poking out with your hair dishevelled in a ponytail. you close the door as you step onto the sidewalk, tugging down your dress that's hiked up your thighs as the car drives off.
logan finally turns off his engine, stepping out shortly after you. your eye roams the quiet street, locking into his as he watches you take a deep breath.
he nods, pointing towards the playground. you nod. he locks his truck and slowly makes his way to the brightly lit playground between the two establishments.
you make a beeline for the swing, dropping yourself down and bending forward to unstrap the heels that suffocate your feet. logan's not even going to ask where you'd come from all dolled up.
he occupies the empty swing next to you, clasping his hands together and placing them between his knees. it's a lot colder than he initially anticipated and his sweatpants are barely keeping him comfortable.
you sit in silence for the next couple of minutes. there's chatter from the methodist building next to you. you pick at your nails, trying to soften your breathing.
it's only then logan notices that your cheeks are flushed and the smell of alcohol in the air. which is obviously not coming from either place that surrounds both of you.
"are you drunk?" logan starts in a whisper, craning his neck down trying to get a look at you.
you look at him from the side of your eyes, lips pouted out in a frown. "tipsy," you correct him, "not drunk."
he nods to himself, rocking back and forth on the swing. he leans his head on the chain that holds his body up. he doesn't really know what to say.
in fact, he doesn't think there's much to say. you were the one who started ghosting him all those years ago. he's not upset or bitter about it, but he completely understands why you'd done it.
if he were in your position, he can almost guarantee that he would have taken the same measures.
"how long have you been back?" you ask, eyes tracing the design on the rubber playground floor. "why didn't you tell me?"
logan raises his eyebrows. "uh," he stutters, "i didn't know i had to. i'm sorry."
you shrug. "you didn't have to," you trail off, dropping your head low to avoid his gaze. "i just thought you would've told me when you'd come for a visit. we haven't seen each other in a while."
yeah, 2 years, he wanted to say.
"it's cause we haven't seen each other in a while that i didn't think to tell you i'm back home," logan admits solemnly, pressing his lips together. "i'm sorry, though. if i knew, you would've been the first person i told."
"i'm sorry i stopped picking up your calls," you suddenly say softly. "and answering your text messages. and telling my parents to tell you i'm away on vacation every time you came to visit."
he just nods. it hurt when you first started distancing yourself from him. but, what can he do?
he sort of caught on in the second week after you let him facetime call ring twice without an answer. that would’ve marked the fifth call you ignored, and the twentieth text you left him on delivered.
so he dropped it. he thought that maybe you would come around when he comes back to miami. apparently not, because you were ‘away’ on a trip with friends. which, now he knows, could possibly be just a lie.
logan smiles, mostly to himself as you’re looking straight ahead at the playground’s structure. “i get it. it’s alright.”
“no, really,” you adjust yourself to look at him with a sigh. “i feel horrible every single day about what i did. but i just didn’t know how to cope with the fact that you put me in the backseat when i was right there.”
“hey.” logan slumps his shoulders. suddenly he feels a tinge of guilt in his chest, and no amount of quick convincing makes it go away. “i understand why you did what you did. you deserve to be with someone who puts you first. i didn’t do that.”
you shake your head. a small smile creeps up on your face, looking up as your eyes start to glisten under the lights. “you don’t get it.”
“what do you mean?”
“i miss you,” you say in a sigh. “i thought you said you loved me too?”
“i did,” logan nods. then he corrects himself: “i do.”
“i still think of you,” you admit with a small smile. you laugh dryly to yourself before looking ahead at the playground. “sometimes i wonder how different our lives would be if i’d just never… stopped waiting.”
logan rests his head on the chain that holds the swing up. “sometimes i wonder how nice it’d be if i’d just,” he sighs, “chosen you.”
“same.”
he can see himself on the playground with you all those years ago. sitting in the structure, giggling with one another as you talk about your separate lives.
your lives seem to come together when you’re on that playground, though you walk separate paths that would prove to be more detrimental to your friendship.
you’d indulge one another in gossip the other had no idea about, but tried their hardest to relate and mirror frustrations. more often than not, a notebook is laid down on the ground between you while you try to draw out the situation of said gossips.
it always makes logan cringe thinking of how invested he’d gotten in your drama with your friends.
“i’m seeing somebody,” you whisper.
“i heard from mum.”
“yeah.”
logan takes a few breaths. “is he good to you?”
you nod. he just smiles then plants his feet into the ground. “that’s good. i’m so happy for you.”
“he’s not you, though, logan.”
he turns his head, looking at you in shock. “what?”
“i want you to tell me i’ve made a mistake,” you say flatly, turning your head to look at him with a frown. “tell me i shouldn’t be with him.”
“i can’t say that to you,” logan frowns, eyebrows furrowing at your sudden request. “i can’t decide that for you.”
you take a deep breath, shakily letting it out. “tell me you still want me, logan. and i’m all yours.” you sigh. “but i need you to say it to my face. cause i won’t wait for you if you don’t ask me to stay.”
logan searches your eyes for any sort of hesitation, or signs of backing off. but he doesn’t. you’ve got that same glimmer in your eye that he’s seen over and over again.
“i do,” he sighs, shaking his head. “i really do. but i can’t promise you anything. i’ll only break your heart. you know this. we lead two very different lives.”
you shrug, dropping your head again. “we could make it work. you’ll never really know.”
“please don’t do this. you’re with somebody else who gives you the world, i’m sure,” he tried to explain to you. “better than i can. you know at least that for a fact.”
you finally stand up, fists clenched by your side. “i can see it in your eyes, logan. you don’t want things to be this way — i’m giving you a chance to change the course of things.”
he looks up at you, lips parted and mind running with thoughts that all contradicted one another.
not talking to you took a while to get used to. especially when he moved up to formula 1, it was hard to find someone to talk to who would listen to him talk without judgement.
he needed your presence the most when he felt so out of place in his environment; like he was an imposter who didn’t deserve to be where he did.
your sudden departure from his life took a harder hit than he cares to admit. he thought about you every single day: the one person who can tell which smiles he fakes on the daily.
the ultimatum you’re giving him is too tough to make a decision on the spot. in hindsight, he’s not only breaking your heart, but also his.
logan sighs, standing up to tower over you. he hovers a hand over your shoulder. “let me drive you home.”
“no, come on, logan!” you shove his hand away from you and stumble a step back. “do something for once! risk something!”
“it’s not that easy.”
“but it is,” you say, matter-of-factly, giving him a stare of indifference. you hold your arms up by your side and raise your eyebrows. “i know my pain is such an imposition. but i’m tired of feeling like this when i know how you feel for me!
“when i know how to make this pain go away. work with me here, logan.”
“i can’t do that because there are more important things on the line for me right now!” logan spits at you, throwing his hands into the air. “i do, okay! i do love you! i think about you every single day, but i can’t throw away everything i’ve ever worked for just to be with you!”
“who says you’ve got to do that?” you shout back, shoving him slightly. “i’m asking you to choose me alongside everything you’ve got, not drop your entire career for me!”
“i’m a fucking laughing stock, do you not see what’s circulating the internet?” he asks exasperatedly with an eyeroll. “you don’t want that going for you. i’ve got bigger things to work on.”
he turns on his heel and walks towards his truck. when he doesn’t hear your footsteps following him, he stops halfway and turns to you. “get in the car, i’m driving you back.”
“so this is how it’s going to be?” you laugh dryly, gesturing at your surroundings with a finger point. “you’re just going to push me aside because you think you can’t give me what i need?”
“i don’t think it — i know so.”
“and what exactly is it that you think i need?”
“somebody to show up for you when it matters,” logan huffs, slowly making his way back over to you. “somebody who can love you even on his worst days; who can take you out on dates, love you on your bad days, and just be there for you.
“i can’t even do that for myself. what the hell makes you think i can do all of that for you?”
he stops right in front of you, chest heaving from frustration and eyebrows furrowed as he towers over you. “i won’t be the person who can give you what you need. not now, i’m still working to be better.”
“you don’t know that.”
“i’m done with this conversation, (y/n),” he sighs, taking a step back. the smell of your perfume increases his urge to just pull you into his arms, but he can’t do that to you, himself, or the guy you’re with. “get in the car, i’m driving you home.”
"fine, whatever," you snap, folding your arms over your chest and stomping towards him to reach the white pickup truck by the corner.
when he planned on coming home for the winter break, you reaching out was never one of his things to expect. he thought that you were absolutely done with him, given that you hadn't talked to him in nearly two years.
his brothers giving him flack for his formula 1 season, maybe, but you confessing your feelings for him all over again? he hadn't ever thought about it in a million years.
when he climbs into the driver's seat, you've already fastened your seatbelt. your legs are crossed, like your arms over your chest, and your body is tilted towards the window.
logan sighs. "(y/n). please understand it from my side. i don't want to hurt you any more than i already have. you don't deserve this."
you still don't meet his eyes. your eyes are trained on the dark scenery outside with a prominent frown on your face. "just take me back to my parents' house."
"what about your apartment?"
"i put it out on the market a month ago," you admit softly as logan turns on the engine. "i'm moving out of miami."
now, logan is typically a well-tempered person. growing up with brothers, it's definitely one way to train that aspect of yourself.
but the last time he had asked you to reconsider moving to the united kingdom with him after graduation, you had refused. because your life is here in miami: your family, your friends, and everything you've ever known.
all of a sudden, you're moving out of here?
he hadn't faulted you initially, but he might just start seeing a change of heart if it comes down to this.
logan shifts in his seat uncomfortably, lifting his foot from the gas pedal. suddenly he's curious to know more about what's going on in your life: moving out of the house is one thing for you, but moving to a completely different place is something else.
"where are you going?"
"new york for a couple months," you say, staring at the street ahead. "just for some training. after that, i'm off to germany. i got a job offer."
"what about your boyfriend?"
"i haven't told him about it yet," you shrug, "i've been thinking of you too much to consider what is to come of the relationship eventually."
"you shouldn't do that. i'm not your boyfriend."
a dry scoff passes your lips. "thanks, i actually know that."
he pulls up to the front yard of his home. pulling up the handbrake, he turns to you with a hand on the backrest of your seat. "i'm serious. don't sabotage whatever you've got going on for you. embrace it."
"really?" you scrunch your nose as you turn to face him. "life advice from someone who keeps sabotaging all of the lifelines i keep throwing out for him to save what we had going on for years?"
logan sighs. he raises his hands to surrender. "fine. do what you want. i only want the best for you and i know it's not me."
"whatever, logan," you scoff, taking off your seatbelt. you throw it back into place and unlock the car door, pushing it open. "i won't be around forever: remember that."
you crawl out and slam the door behind you. all logan can do is sink in his seat and watch you cross the road, walk up to your front door and shut that behind you as well. you don't spare him another look, which is when it all washes over him like tsunami waves.
but as much as he wants you, he will have to stand true to his words. because he knows his truth: he isn't the person you deserve to be with.
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dimepdf · 10 months
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★  𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝟓𝟎𝟓. + 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑
masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. jealousy is a terrible disease, and you and Eren are both suffering from a severe case of it.
✧. ┊    notes. back on the eren d rider train I need more fics of him BAD like there is a shortage of bad bitches that write for eren on my feed and I need that to be fixed real soon. | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍
✧. ┊    word count. 3.2k (23 min read).
✧. ┊    genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | slight eren/mikasa in the beginning | (fr)enemies | established relationship | hurt/comfort | miscommunication | misunderstandings | sexual tension | jealousy | post-break up | make up sex | porn with feelings | grinding | fingering | unprotected sex | cowgirl | riding | hair pulling | we ignore typos here | title inspired by this song.
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EREN WAS CONVINCED you were batshit crazy, that would be the only reason why your brain would always find some new reason to push him away enough to have him chase after you like you had a pretty pink leash around his neck hooked to a collar with his name on it. 
You would always manage to push his buttons just enough to tip him off, and in return, you weren’t the type to just sit back and let some man yell at you cause he certainly was not your father nor your mother.
The arguments you two would be involved in usually led to very amazing angry sex, clearing out a grace period enough to last until the next time you chose to push his buttons.
Well, this time it was different—at least that was your claimed reasoning for telling your friends why you and Eren were on another one of your famous relationship breaks. 
This one happened so fast that Eren wasn’t even sure what the hell he was talking about until you stormed out of his apartment and blocked his number for an entire week, holding onto the smallest things that reminded him of your existence. 
Wincing every time he would see your post on your Instagram story all dressed up and going out with your friends looking so unfazed. Maybe this time it actually was different, and the thought of that scared the absolute shit out of Eren. The heavy feeling of the thought of you losing you left with him a constantly collapsing moping pit forming in his stomach.
It was settled between his friends that they wouldn't let him mope around his place alone any longer, tired of hearing and depressed, mentioning your name on his lips, convincing him enough to coax him out of his apartment littered with reminders of you to hang out at some house party.
What those said friends failed to mention was that you would be there as well, with about seventy people scattered from the front yard to the pool in the back with music raging so loud he could feel the vibration from where he sat lounging watching you from his seat on the back porch.
He was supposed to be having a good time, getting messed up enough to not remember your name. Yet there he was, sitting slouched a few feet away from you, his heart on his sleeve. 
A blunt caught between his lips, minding his business as best as he possibly could, but it was just so hard to believe that he could hear the familiar pitch of your laughter filtered through the music.
"Dude," Connie sighs, interrupting Eren’s growing annoyance, his attention yanking away from where you stood, hugging up a little too closely for comfort to the smirking Armin. 
Eren hands the blunt over with a groan, his legs spreading comfortably and shifting back to lean with his back against the patio chair.
With his head resting on the headrest pillow, he closes his eyes tightly, praying for his high to hit him like a truck so fucking soon, wishing for just one night where he wouldn't have to deal with his annoying emotions for you. "Shit, my bad man, I didn't even know that she would be here." 
Connie rests his hand on Eren’s shoulder, helping ground him back down to earth. "But hey, are you gonna be alright?" The question lingered in the stale air before Eren could process the rigid tone behind it, his eyes fluttering open to Connie eyeing down someone from across the yard with a knowing horny spark in his eye, knowing that his friend was a natural-born player and that it would be just so unfair to hold him back from his natural element.
"Yeah, yeah, go ahead, man, I’ll be here." forcing a tight grin from his lips, Eren’s hand waving away his friend with a coaxing hand. "All alone.." he sighed under his breath once Connie had finally stalked away, leaving the dark-haired brunette to sit with his own flooding thoughts.
The sight in front of him making him feel as if he was witnessing a kamikaze from just a few steps away from how hard his heart was throbbing watching you completely ignore his existence as if you weren't just sprouting I love yous and kissing all over each other not even a few weeks ago.
He needs to move to get you out of his sight before the swallowing feeling can take up his entire mood and ruin his high. Stumbling around the large crowd of people, he parted through the crowd, finding the unknown kitchen counter that was decorated with enticingly labeled cheap liquor bottles and mixers that were calling his name. 
He hadn't even managed to get one cup down before the slush of his drink was met with the white of his graphic t-shirt, a curse hidden under his breath turning ready to spit the first insult on his mind he could spout from the large cloud of frustration festering from his annoyance only to be cut off. 
"Oh shit, I'm so sorry, dude." His attacker was a very apologetic and cute woman, with short dark hair, warm olive skin, and a very bold red bra peeking through the white cropped cami she wore, catching his attention embarrassingly quick enough for him to forget that it was better to actually make eye contact when speaking to another person.
His first initial words were punched back into his throat, a lazy smile taking their place instead. "It's already, uh, the drink tasted like shit anyways." He nervously chuckled, like he couldn't really help the nervousness that waved over him standing in the presence of a pretty girl who had introduced herself quite cheerily as Mikasa. 
If you had told him a few hours ago when he first arrived that he would actually be having fun, let alone sitting with some random girl in his lap, Eren would have called you crazy, yet there he was genuinely grinning ear to ear face to face with Mikasa, who had made it her personal mission to make Eren have a much better night than he was. 
The two getting awfully close in such a short span of time, sitting down clinging onto each other, sprouting out about absolutely nothing important but the genuine want to talk to each other, not to mention that It helps that Eren absolutely finds her stunning, their bodies sharing warmth sitting so close, it was only natural for the flushed feeling to take over with the rake of her nails tangling in his shaggy mullet.
He couldn't even use drinking as an excuse, babysitting the same drink she had remade for him as an apology for spilling the last one. There was really no real reason why he had suddenly leaned in and caught his lips against hers so hungrily. 
It doesn't help that Mikasa kisses him back with the same amount of eager roughness, practically straddling him on top of his lap at this point, the two heavily making out in the open.
With hands wandering, Eren reaches out a hold around her hips, his mind betraying him just a bit, not being able to fully push away the comparison to your figure. The thought makes him react with a wince, parting from the kiss with his tongue dragging over his parted lips.
Mikasa leans back, pushing his hair from his face while letting out a breathy fit of giggles, not discovering the hidden uncomfortable shift in Eren’s behavior. It wasn't her fault, he couldn't blame the girl for him being so caught up with his ex to the point where even when he was kissing other women, he couldn't help but get his mind off of you.
"If you want, we could go upstairs." Mikasa whispers in his ear, leading a shiver up his spine with a flash of sexual excitement. He is pleased at the end of her offer, locked in with the peck of her lips against his jawline.
The offer is absolutely knee-jerking, and if it were any other situation, Eren probably would have let this really pretty girl he just met jump his bone, but all the confidence that had been built up from the night had instantly drained the second he had caught your gaze from across the room. 
Both staring at each other pointedly, Eren’s lashes fluttered under your unflinched, hard glare as Mikasa continued to litter kisses with the promises of hickeys around his collarbone.
He wanted to feel so smug, wanted to use the new attention as a way to finally get back at you for making him feel the way that he felt watching you dance with Armin, but the revenge just didn't feel right, and his mood soured further at the thought of using some poor innocent girl to get back at you.
The intense eye contact is cut off by Mikasa bringing her face closer to his, seeking out another kiss. Eren squeezes his eyes closed, wanting nothing more but to get the looping image of you and Armin out of his damned head.
"What do you say?" being reminded in a soft whisper of the intimate question still in the air from earlier, the creep of her fingers dawning down his chest and rubbing with intention at the crotch of his jeans, Eren grabbing her wandering hand before it could do any more active damage.
"Maybe...maybe we shouldn’t right now," Eren sheepishly responds, his eyes searching for any ounce of rejection on her features,trying to shake the sight of you from his attention.
Mikasa doesn't seem all that hurt, if anything, she nods her head in understanding, taking no for an answer without another word, pulling her hands away and wrapping them around his shoulders instead, her head turning enough to show that she knows his attention is entirely too spent on someone else.
"What a player," she chuckles knowingly, not quite catching a glance at you, yet her eyes still scan around the room. "Something tells me I should go get another drink before whoever you're looking for comes and bites off my head." And just like that, Eren's perfect distraction slips through his fingers, and he's left alone once more, kicked back with the same emotions he had coming into the party.
His attention is rudely pulled back towards you as you appear in front of him. It was like you were hunting, searching for the perfect moment when he had his guard down to strike.
You placed your hand on your hips as he dared to stare up at you through his lashes, his body too at ease with the disappointed expression twisted on your face. "Are you fucking drunk right now?"
"Well, is this not a party?" Eren replies almost too easily, his tone has deepened enough to get a shifted, sneering reaction from you at the snappy comeback. Watching your movements a bit too intensely as your arms crossed over your chest, Eren didn't bother to look away from how plump your breasts looked in the pretty little crop top you managed to squeeze them into.
"I was going to ask if you wanted a ride home since I saw Connie dip with someone, but excuse me, I see that you're too busy tongue-fucking any random slut willing to give it out tonight, huh?" Your insults dig deep, even with the drooling sight of your tight-skirted figure dancing right in front of him. Eren sucked in a breath at the acknowledgement.
"You broke up with me." He spoke straight to your thighs, his tongue tracing over the bottom of his lip now that he could see just how good you looked tonight. All dressed up with your makeup done, his heart didn't want to imagine what you were hoping to get into if his presence wasn't there to ruin the mood. "Remember?"
"Fine, walk your ass home." Rolling your eyes and storming away, knowing that he was in the right, Eren let out a sigh before sleazily trailing behind your grumbling every step.
Watching the sway of your hips as you walk in front of him all the way to your car, slumping into the passenger side without any word even as you continued to have a one-sided conversation about how much of an asshole he was for not saying bye to his little girlfriend he was kissing on even though Eren was pretty sure Mikasa would be more understanding than what you were giving her credit for. 
The drive home is tense, the soft pitter of rain hitting the windshield wipers as the streetlights leech orange and white colors through your tinted windows. The radio played lowly, not loud enough to recognize the soft melody of something playing but not quite low enough to have you both sitting in complete silence.
"Are you guys talking?" Eren’s voice is still deep, almost cushioning from how gently he posed the question, almost as if he were so loud that he would be afraid to scare you away.
Your fingers clench around the leather of the wheel, eyes glancing away from the road for just a split second to give him a knitted-brow look. "What, who are you talking about?"
Eren feels like he’s back in middle school again, fidgeting with the bottom hem of his shirt, all nervous around you. "You and Armin, you guys looked pretty close at the party." He could almost taste the bitterness on his tongue, his head leaning back on the headrest, looking how desperate he had to look, practically pining over you with his broken-hearted expression.
"I should ask the same for you then." You ignore him, reaching to dial the music just a bit louder, not wanting to sit in silence if it meant opening up a question and answer panel between just him and you. 
The statement hurts, both physically and emotionally. Eren gets reminded of the pit still forming in his stomach.
The frowning emotion threatening a knot in his throat, having to swallow down the absolute word vomit of apologizes and begging he has threatened to spill from his throat in your honor, "Well, I’ve missed you." Was all that he could manage before he had to physically turn himself away from you, using the pressing cold glass to help aid the burning firepit of emotions he had covering the rest of his reasonability in dark, thick sud.
You didn't react, at least not in line of sight, even if you heard him, you hadn’t shown any acknowledgement of his heartbreaking confession. Not even when you pulled into his driveway had you bothered to give him a glance other than the action of you sliding off your seatbelt and letting him sit in the car for a breath before he was trialing after you once more.
Trudging through his apartment, even with you inside the home walls, you still felt a sense of lonesomeness. "Ren…" 
"Do you wanna come to bed?" Your voice sounds through the halls, following back to his bedroom, the door left ajar enough to see you lying in the place right where he had thought you belonged, blankets lifted open, enticing him to lie down next to you with a sobering small smile.
Crawling under the blankets right next to you without another word, cuddling against your chest, wrapping his arms around the front of your torso, and hugging close enough for you to lean with your back resting against the mattress as his face rubbed against the plush of your falling and rising cushioning breast.
"I’ve…missed you too." You lowly admit, using your acrylics to softly comb through the back of his hair, easing back his tension farther with a small kiss pecked on the top of his forehead.
The sound of the blanket shifting as it carries with Eren’s movements, his arms ankling at both sides of your head, holding himself up from pressing you with his entire body weight as he slots himself between your part legs.
Your fingers twining tighter into his scalp as he leans down for a kiss, the muffle of his moan pressing against your seeking lips, letting you slip your tongue inside of his mouth, adding to the rising heated makeout session.
The pace never lets up, growing with more eagerness. Eren frees one of his arms, letting his hands wander down, squeezing your thigh part by the bend of the knee, and having your skirt ride up unwearable to your waist.
Knuckling aside the lace of your panties away from your pussy, he used the pad of his thumb to tease at your clit only adding sinking two digits into the equation. Your cunt welcomed them with a greedy buck at the buck of your hips against his touch, kicking off his jeans awkwardly.
Eren is already sweating from the grouling press of his hard cock miserably untouched against your thigh, grinding shamelessly against your leg while his fingers pistoned with a lewd wet squelch from your coated arousal inside of you.
Pausing only when your fist tugs with a knot full of his hair tangled between your knuckles, your other hands push him away by the press of your palm against his chest.
Switching positions with Eren almost a little too obentaintly with you sitting straddled on his lap in an all too familiar position, you look angelic on top of him with your hair dawning over your face knocking out of his daze with a hiss at the slow teasing feeling of your fingers wrapping around the length of his cock and pressing his tip at the folds of your entrance. 
"I’ve missed you." The soft brush of your coo fans against his face from how close you were, and with your noses brushing, you both react breathlessly to the feeling of you lowering yourself down on his cock. The thrusting clench of his hips living up from the mattress and intruding deeper inside of you left him whimpering under your touch. "I’ve missed you so, so much, Ren."
The pace of your bouncing hips is relentless, starting at your own brutal pace and grounding yourself with heavy palms pressed against his chest.
Eren couldn't do anything but lie back and whine against your mouth, as you used him for your own release from the mental war he had to not end the fun for which he had been craving all week. Whimpering at the amazing feeling he missed so badly at your pussy squeezing against him so snuggly as if your body had just been made for him so perfectly. 
Eren’s hands help guide the grind of your hips as your muscles tense and tremble on top of him suddenly, your body going rigid, hugging your collapsed body against his hold, begging a string of nonsense as your cunt continues to milk him until his very last drop.
His hips don't bother halting, switch positions as he lays on top to help with his lazy, slow strokes, listening to your soft whines as you hug him closer to you, wrapping your trembling legs against his hips and pulling him as deep as you possibly could.
“I missed you too baby.”
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freedomfireflies · 10 months
Text
iFall for Harry pt. 9
Summary: The ninth part to iFall for Harry
Turns out, destiny has other plans for you and Harry.
And you're taking a trip...back to the future.
Word Count: 2.2k
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Grieving Harry is linear.
The moment the call goes dead, so does your connection to him.
Your heightened emotions dwindle down to nothingness. Your memories, your pain, your past. Every cheese pun, every sexy text, every word from his lips.
You erase them all.
You shut out a majority of the world. Revert back to a state of mind where you refuse to trust or engage with anyone. You protect yourself. Punish yourself for letting him get away. For being so broken. For being everything he doesn’t want.
And for making him everything you do.
You don’t work through the problem. You don’t even allow yourself to admit there is a problem. You simply tuck him away into the darkest corner of your mind…and you forget him.
Your friends are worried about you. They reach out, they plan dates, they arrange sleepovers. 
You decline them all.
You stay in your apartment, and you watch old reruns of The Big Bang Theory, and you pretend to laugh at the jokes you’ve heard a hundred times before. 
But most importantly, you pretend like Harry didn’t mention this was one of his comfort shows and that that’s why you’re watching it.
Two weeks go by. Nothing changes for you. You’re still a hollow version of yourself. Dedicating each day to wondering why you couldn’t have just…gotten over your fear. Gotten over what happened to you. And just…let him in.
Your therapist tries to tell you that healing takes time. Trauma lives within the body and no amount of cute boys and perfect scenarios will change that. Until you learn to forgive yourself, you will always be stuck.
 She might be right. But unsticking yourself now doesn’t bring him back.
Occasionally you’ll hear that he’s doing well. He’s on tour. He’s booked a new movie. He’s been caught making out with a model.
But it falls on deaf ears. Passes right through you like air. You’re indifferent now. Choosing to pretend as if he never existed to you.
Now he’s just that famous guy nobody will shut up about.
But on those late nights, when the fragility of your heart slips the crack of your apathetic persona…you pull up his contact.
You have it blocked. Nearly deleted it countless times so you’d lose the temptation to memorize his number and find a way to reach him.
Still, you can’t resist typing out a message. You’ll pour out your heart, write him paragraphs of apologies and explanations. You’ll wish for things to go back. Wish for his happiness. Wish for everything.
And then, you’ll hit the delete button.
Erase everything you want to say, exit out of his information, and turn your phone off.
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You almost don’t see the email.
You’re going through your inbox, cleaning it out, responding here and there. But mostly rifling through all the ads so you can delete them and create a bit more space.
The name Marty McFly is what catches your eye. And despite yourself…you click.
Back to the Future! One Night Only! Buy your tickets now!
Your local theater is doing a triple feature, one movie each night for the next three days. You almost don’t consider it. Almost click out of the advertisement and move on.
But then you think of Harry. Think of how you promised to take him, and your heart sinks a little as you stare at the painted poster of Michael J. Fox standing in front of the time traveling car while staring at his watch.
You decide to go. It’ll be nice to watch something that fills you with so much joy. It’ll be good to laugh again. And to revel in the opportunity to forget, at least for a couple of hours.
You think about it for the rest of the week. Countdown the days until you can finally make your way for the theater. 
It feels good to go out again. Feels good to have the sunshine on your face and the promise of a good time ahead of you.
When you slide up to the booth, you’re wearing a smile. A real, genuine smile.
“Hi! Can I get one ticket to the five o’clock showing?” you ask the ticket taker, who nods and accepts your cash.
With that, you’re waved through the doors, and your heart begins to pound. The smell of popcorn and promise washes over each sense as you grab your snacks, and look for your specific door.
After slipping your way inside, you take a look around the darkened theater.
However, the room is empty. At least a hundred seats without a single soul to use them.
Your brows furrow. “The hell is everyone?”
You walk along the aisle, looking for the best seat until you decide on the middle chair about halfway back. 
Snuggling down with your popcorn, you settle in, and wait for the opening credits. Truth be told, you feel a bit odd to be taking up a whole theater by yourself, and you have to wonder if perhaps you got the date wrong. Or maybe the time? Maybe you’re early? Although according to your clock, the movie should be starting any second now.
And then…someone else walks in.
You release a relieved breath as the dark shadow strides along the aisle similar to how you had, looking for a seat as well. Selfishly, you hope they don’t get too close.
Then, they turn down your row.
Shit.
Returning your focus to the dark screen, you pretend not to notice, instead studying the velvet red curtain that’s draping on either side.
The stranger stops right beside you.
Assuming that they’d like to pass by, you glance over, and begin to pull your legs in.
You make the mistake of looking up.
And your heart instantly sinks to the soles of your shoes.
Harry.
“Hi. S’this seat taken?”
The sound of his voice makes your stomach drop to your toes. Even in the dark, you can make out the familiar slope of his nose and sharp curve of his jaw.
You don’t know what to say. Don’t know if he recognizes you or if he knows what he’s even doing.
Either way, you swallow thickly, and nod once.
He smiles.
After settling down into the chair beside you, he sighs, and wiggles back into his seat to get comfortable.
You try not to look at him. Try to pretend like you can’t smell his expensive cologne wafting toward you. Try to pretend as though his hand isn’t right there, dangling over the armrest as if taunting you.
And then, the movie begins.
You try to get lost into the world of Marty and Doc. A world you’re already so familiar with.
But it’s nearly impossible with the way he continues to shift, or laugh, or snort beside you. As if trying to distract you.
You have half a mind to turn to him and hiss, “Shhhh.” 
Somehow…you resist.
“Doc…are you telling me…that you built a time machine…out of a DeLorean?”
Harry laughs beside you, chin resting in the palm of his hand, and for some reason…your chest swells with pride. 
You want him to enjoy this movie. Enjoy the lines you used to memorize as a kid. Want to be able to talk about it with him after and exchange favorite moments.
But the second you start to indulge in this fantasy…you remember.
And your smile quickly slips.
The rest of the movie is spent with your focus glued to the screen. You don’t sneak any extra glances. You don’t listen for his sounds. You don’t allow your peripheral to catch him. 
And when the infamous car flies toward the camera before disappearing in a flash as the title card explodes across the screen, you jump to your feet.
You don’t waste another goddamn second. You get up, you turn on your heel, and you book it toward the middle aisle.
“Wait…wait,” you hear Harry murmur as the dramatic score carries you out of the theater. “Ladybug, wait.”
The nickname nearly makes you flinch as you slip through the door and rush for the lobby. You can tell he’s following after you, the sound of the seats flipping up as he pushes by following you out.
You nearly reach the double doors before his large hand wraps around your upper arm and yanks you back. 
“Hey,” he murmurs, brows furrowed as your eyes meet his chest.
You can’t look at him.
“Listen, I know you wanna go, but I just need to talk to you for one second,” he continues, but his fingers won’t leave you. “Please.”
Your heart is hammering inside your ears. You can’t seem to look anywhere else but the buttons on his shirt.
It’s quiet for a long time.
Then, you nod.
He takes a deep breath. “Listen, I know…I know why this shouldn’t work. I understand the mechanics, and the difficulties, and the issues. I get it. It shouldn’t work.”
A beat of silences settles between you as you apprehensively allow yourself to travel your gaze up.
“…but it does,” he whispers, and your mouth goes dry. “It works, and I don’t know how, and I don’t know why. But I can’t fucking let you go and it’s driving me up the goddamn wall.”
You don’t know what to do. What to say, what to think.
“I don’t want to let you go,” he continues. “I don’t want to block you or remove you. I don’t want to miss you. Or have to remember you as just some fucking thing that happened. I want to talk to you. Wanna send you pictures of the sky and play games with you. Wanna watch TV and bitch about Sheldon with you. Wanna beg you to let me come just to have you do that little smirky thing you do that makes my fucking stomach flip.”
You take a deep breath. And then another. And then another, but nothing helps. Nothing seems to unwind this knot that’s growing tighter with each confession. 
“I can’t wrap my head around you,” he says, and his voice is heavy. And confused. Almost as lost as his expression. “I can’t wrap my head around this—us. I just…I fucking try to think about anything else and it always comes back to you. Every goddamn time.”
You know there are tears in your eyes. You wish there weren’t but they’re coming faster than you can stop them.
“And I know why you’re nervous,” he sighs, squeezing your arm once. “I know. And I can’t fix it, and I really fucking wish I could, but I…god, I’ll do anything to make your future better than your past. I will do anything…to keep you, Cheese Girl. Whatever it takes, whatever you want. Name it, and it's yours.”
“I don’t want you to do anything, Har,” you nearly whimper, head shaking quickly. “I never wanted you to feel responsible for my shit—”
“I don’t. I don’t, I just…you can’t carry this alone. And I can help you—”
“But why should you? You have your own life, and your own trauma, and you deserve the fairytale ending—”
“Ladybug,” he breathes, cutting you short. “We met over text and now we’re here in a movie theater while I profess my adoration for you. Tell me how this isn’t a fairytale.”
Despite yourself…you smile. “Yeah, how…how did you even know I’d be here?”
He releases you now, but only so he can grimace and run a hand through his curls. “Okay, don’t…don’t judge me, but I just…I paid them a shit ton of money to let me rent out the building for…a day or two.”
“A day or two?”
“Well…I wasn’t sure if you’d see the email in time, so I had to keep sending it until you came—”
You rear back. “You sent the email?”
His nose scrunches. “I was desperate, all right? You had me blocked, and I figured you wouldn’t agree to meeting.”
Your lashes flutter as you work in this new information. “Shit, Har. That’s…that’s a lot of work to go through just for one person you barely know.”
He suddenly surges forward, palms pressing to your cheeks until he can take hold of your face and tilt it up. “You’re worth it. My god, Cheesy, are you worth it.”
“Cheesy?” you repeat incredulously, but your smile is big. “God that’s…”
“…cheesy?” he finishes for you. “About as cheesy as renting out a theater in hopes that the girl I like will show up and take me back?”
You nod quickly, lip between your teeth. “Yeah, but…cheese is kind of our thing.”
“It is,” he agrees, chuckling to himself as he pulls you closer, your chest brushing with his. “Listen, I can’t…I know this isn’t some sort of magic fix. But please…please let me try. Just…just let me keep you. For a little bit at least. Let me make all those puns worth it.”
Maybe you know better. Maybe this is a horrible idea. Maybe every red flag is waving wildly in your face.
And maybe…you just don’t care.
“What if I’m your destiny?” he finishes, and your heart just about breaks. “Or…density.”
You both laugh as he catches a stray tear that travels down your cheek, eyes pleading with yours. 
And when you offer the subtlest of nods…everything changes.
He kisses you before you can take a breath, his lips warm and full of promise.
You stand there in the middle of the lobby, trapped in his arms as the soft sounds of Back to the Future play on in the background.
Maybe he is your destiny after all.
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One more part 🥹 Will be sobbing violently
Dedicated to @nof0odallowed for the original ask! 💞
Next Part:
~iFall for Harry pt. 10* (Final)
Previous Part:
~ iFall for Harry pt. 8
~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
Taglist:
@walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @cherryshouse @lydiarry @justlemmeadoreyou @tiaamberxx @yoruse
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r0ttenhearts · 11 months
Text
My Dove
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sypnosis: in which kazuha leaves you after the death of tomo
warnings: angst, no comfort
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“hey, wait, kazu! hold it still!” you giggle into the frame as kazuha holds a kamera above the three of you. a smile gracing your features as kazuha’s arm slung around your neck. tomo’s wide smile perfectly captured in that photo.
that was the last time you all took a photo together.
the news of tomo’s passing hit you hard, but not as hard as it hit kazuha. his fleeting touches became much more scattered as he kept to himself. your usual routine of being together came to a screeching halt the day he told you he needed space.
the solem look in his eyes, the way his head tilted downwards, you were weak to him so of course you complied. but what you didn’t know was that he was leaving inazuma. he never told you he was boarding the crux, nor that he was going to liyue.
you only found out when yoimiya brought it up to you one day as you helped her decorate her firecrackers.
“do you know how long until kazuha is back? i helped him load them up but he never said when he’d be back.”
you froze at the mention of kazuha. load? when he’ll be back? your mouth felt dry as you looked up at yoimiya from your painted firework.
“what do you mean, yoi? he left?”
yoimiya’s eyes widened, her hands halting.
“the ship is going to liyue and kazuha was on it with captain beidou. i thought you knew (y/n), isn’t he your best friend? you two used to always be together on the docks.”
you shook your head. your heart clenching. kazuha never told you he was leaving.. why didn’t he? especially after what happened. he said he needed space, not that he was leaving.
your mind flashes back to the private moments you had with him, moments you’d replay in your head that never failed to make your heart race.
his gentle lips on yours, the way his warm hand would gently squeeze yours, his warmth breath on your face as he did your eyeliner for you, his endearing nickname he gave you, “dove.” did this all mean nothing to him?
“he never told me anything.” you whispered as yoimiya rubbed your shoulder. she assured you that he’d be back soon enough! he just needed time to sort out his thoughts like he said! you stayed positive, agreeing with her until weeks turned into months and eventually it had been 3 years since he left.
your positive attitude and cheery demeanor was long gone, replaced by a cold and indifferent girl that now wore your face. mentions of kazuha and the renowned traveler had met your ears as your friends gushed over the traveler one day, failing to notice the way you scoffed at the mention of his name.
kaedehara kazuha. the man that had taken your heart with him on that ship, only to let it disappear into the salty winds of the sea he seemed to adore. he adored more than he did you, anyway.
you pretended not to care for his absence, cursing his very existence every time someone would ask you about him. not a single letter from him, nothing. not a word. if he wanted to forget about you, you declared you’d do the same.
one day after helping yoimiya with her firecrackers for the yokai festival, you noticed she was more chipper than usual.
“what’s with you today?” you asked, your monotone voice flat as ever. yoimiya shook her head, giggling to herself. “oh nothing (y/n)! thanks for the help today. if you could, could you go set up some fireworks by the docks?”
you nodded, scooping up a bundle of the brightly painted fireworks as you made your way down to the docks. you didn’t notice a familiar ship that was docked with a few others.
you sighed, crouching down and setting up some fireworks together. you tied a bundle of them with red string, not hearing hurried footsteps from behind you.
“dove? is that you?”
your eyes widened with shock as you heard him behind you. you slowly stood up from your crouched position, turning to see the face of the man that had broken your heart. a wide smile on his face as he tugged at his sleeve before taking a step towards you. his face falling as he saw you take a step back.
“(y/n)? what’s wrong? i came back to see how you were doing-”
“don’t bullshit me kazuha.” you spat, voice laced with anger as you walked in front of him, pointing a finger to his chest. angry tears bubbled up in the corners of your eyes, your chest feeling nothing but hate.
“if you cared so much, why didn’t you write? not a word from you for these past few years, and you think showing up will make that okay? you didn’t even fucking tell me you were leaving.”
you shoved him hard as he stumbled, his eyes creasing with worry. the sight of that only made you angrier as you lifted your hand, a slap resounding off of the water.
“you’re a cruel man to have broken my heart and shown up here like nothing happened between us. i no longer feel anything for you kazuha. don’t speak to me again.”
kazuha didn’t say a word as you left, watching your back as you slowly disappeared from view. he knew he fucked up, but he didn’t think you’d be so angry. angry enough to strike him.
a few days had passed since your reunion with kazuha. the festival was now in full swing as you stood next to yoimiya in your yukata. she gave you a small smile, telling you she knew what had happened. you frowned, remembering the events that had occurred.
“wait a moment, traveler! paimon keeps taking me to the food stalls.”
your eyes narrowed at the boy with white hair, his smile and laugh as he stood next to the blonde traveler and their floating companion. the sight of it made you sick.
“why do you think he never told me?”
yoimiya looked to you as you asked that, her nose scrunching up in confusion. “what do you mean (y/n)?”
“he just looks so happy with them.” you gestured to the trio that was down the hill from where you both stood. yoimiya shook her head, taking your hands in hers. “don’t think like that (y/n). i’m sure he had his reasons. he cared- cares about you.”
her worried features scanned your face for any sign of any emotion that would tell how you were feeling. your features remained indifferent as she hugged you.
after a month kazuha had boarded the ship once again, his eyes scanning the crowd for any glimpse of you. it was a silly hope to think you’d see him off after the scene that you two shared, but he wanted to fix things. every time he attempted to talk to you, you’d turn and briskly walk in another direction. it hurt. hurt to see his childhood friend act in such a manner towards him. he sighed, his bandaged hand resting on his chest as the boat began to sail away from inazuma.
“i’ll make it up to you one day, my dove. i promise.”
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taglist: @samarill
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peachseashell · 6 months
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Hi :)
Can I request Xiao and Wanderer (separately) with an autistic s/o pls? Gender neutral reader if it's possible thank you!!
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ Special to me
Xiao and Wanderer with an autistic s/o
Gender neutral reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: food textures (sensory issues), reader is kinda emotional and Introverted, Wanderer is kinda toxic and possessive, mentions of anxiety.
Notes: I was actually so excited to write this because I love these characters and I'm also diagnosed with autism so it makes me so happy writing about something that I can easily portray! So thanks for your request ml 💕
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Xiao
- He has little knowledge of human and abilities and basically anything about them apart from they work, eat and sleep. He never really fussed over it much until he met you and learned that you're quite different from all the other mortals he's encountered.
- You have to teach him about your needs, preferences, feelings, opinions as he doesn't always understand. He's scared that he won't know what to do when you're in an emotional state because he knows you feel things differently from others.
- I feel as though Xiao is a good listener and can sit in silence while you ramble on about anything you want, even thougg he may not understand a single thing about what's coming out of your mouth. He's also learned that he needs to be careful how he words things in case you misunderstand or take his harsh words to literally.
- This may just be me, but physical touch is something I'm not particularly fond of at all and I don't know if this is an autistic thing or just me. But anyway, Xiao's more than happy to give you your own well deserved space and alone time; though sometimes he can be very touch starved in my opinion.
- However, if you don't mind affection I can see Xiao warming up to you and leaning in closer and resting on you. This affection is mostly displayed during inside areas, usually when you're both very calm. Bedtime is when you can catch him most vulnerable and cuddling up to you like a snug bug in a rug.
- Xiao understands your eating issues and that sometimes your picky. You both share the dislike of certian textures and flavours, not just food but the feel of objects as well. For example, if a blanket is too scratchy or fish is too slimey, or shoes are too squeaky. Sensory issues are probably something he has in common with you.
Wanderer
- I feel as though Wanderer is very educated on this topic. Even if he is a puppet, I think perhaps he must of come across an autistic person and became curious, therefore leading him to want to learn more about it during his time as a fatui harbinger or maybe at the Akademiya.
- 100% remembers your likes and dislikes, never forgets them; keeps a secret diary all about you because he loves you so much. Buys you things to help with fidgeting and stress whenever you're distracted and loves hearing you ramble on about the littlest and strangest topics.
- No matter how confident he may be that he can look after you. He's helpless in a situation when you're completely exhausted and panicked or upset. Lets you shout at him to be honest because he knows it's not really personally against him. This may sound cruel, but he may leave you to let it out on your own in case he upsets you even more, the best thing he thinks to do is give you space.
- Of course after he'll cook you your favourite meal and dry any spilt tears, isn't he just so dreamy? Doesn't like to admit it but he loves it when you have nobody to turn to but him because he's the only one who understands. Holds your hand when you're nervous whenever you two go out and the anxiety takes over you.
- will hunt anyone down who makes fun of you for any habits, preferences or anything you have that makes you slightly unique; he just hates people who can't accept that disabilities aren't something to joke about. he just doesn't want to see you hurt because of someones stupid opinion, it makes his non existing heart twist and break.
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sardonic-the-writer · 3 months
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𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ warnings: fighting, brief mentions of injuries & alcohol. murdoc is a warning in himself to be frank
↳ song: rock the house—gorillaz
↳ notes: headcanons about murdoc & you. made to be platonic/a self insert type fic, but could be romantic too. this overall just stemmed from my infatuation and hatred for his green ass
nasterlist | commissions | carrd
• Murdoc is so self-absorbed. It's honestly beyond you how he hasn't floated away into the sun with how inflated his ego's gotten
• It doesn't help that he's regarded as the sole reason for bringing together one of the best bands ever recorded—something that he holds over the entire bands head when he feels like being an asshole
• With that giant persona of his inevitably there comes jealousy. The musician gets unreasonably grumpy if someone, especially you, is ever more excited to see a collaborator over for a recording session instead of him of all people
• "You were just gawking at 'em the entire time like an idiot! Wha', never seen a bloody live recording before?" Murdocs accent clipped his words as his gravely voice spit fire at you one afternoon. You just laughed at his annoyance, not even bothered by his attitude after years of putting up with it
• "Murdoc, it's De La Soul. Of course I'm going to be excited. It's ten times better than waking up to you rummaging around in the fridge with nothing but a thong on."
• "Get fucked you little twat." He barked, stomping off and ending the little spat. You didn't see him the rest of the day, no doubt off brooding in his Winnebago. It didn't bother you. More quiet time to hang out with Noodle for you!
• More than often, the two of you have been recorded in separate interviews talking about the other. Mostly just talking shit
• "So, what's this we've all been hearing about a certain bassist getting in a car accident?" A random reporter asked you one day from over their horn rimmed glasses. 2D, who was currently the only other person besides you that had been able to make it to the questioning, scratched his head absent-mindedly as you cackled in glee
• "Yeah yeah. I ran over Muds with my car one day. Just knocked his sorry ass right over. Pow! He recovered fine, dont worry, but the moment he did, I had to run for my life." You managed to get out through laughter. "Still have no idea how those fucking tabloids got ahold of that story."
• "Wasn't it an accident f'ough? I remember you sayin that." 2D tilted his head with a slight lisp
• You just grinned toothily and said nothing
• "It. It was an accident. Right?" He asked again, this time with more nerves
• The interview was cut off shortly after that
• On the topic of cars, Murdoc's own set of wheels was probably his only pride an joy apart from his bass. And ironically, the van was the bane of the rest of the bands existence
• The amount of times you had to bang on the Winnebago's dented door to tell him to shut up— the smell of cigarettes, sex, and too many air fresheners leaking from the cracks —should be a crime
• And each time without fail, you were always met with a shirtless Murdoc; either inviting you in for his version of a night of fun or just plain flipping you off
• You always found the latter easier to deal with
• Russel has always been the medium for any serious fights you and Murdoc would have. You both fight a lot, sure, but normally over small things like who should run out to get more booze or tune up band equipment. It was only when things got really heated that the drummer would step in
• Nine times out of ten, that just meant he'd pick you up with one arm and place you in a separate room until the two of you could stand to be around each other. It was always you he did that to, too, since the one time he'd tried that on Murdoc, Russel narrowly avoided a black eye and a week's docked pay
• It really was easy to forget that technically Murdoc is your boss. With how much shit he gives out, and vise versa from all of you, it really just felt like he was an annoying roommate. An annoying, rich, and vibrant green roomate
• At the end of the day, though, none of you really hated him. Well, the jury was still out on 2D, but you had a feeling the past few years the singer had been trying to pick himself back up
• Murdoc, however much of a prick he is, is still a key part in the band. Without him, some of the best song you'd all produced would have never happened, and some of your best drinking memories would have never happened. Hell, he even did a pretty good job raising Noodle. With plenty of help from everyone else, of course
• So no matter how many inanimate objects you all chucked at each other's head, at the end of the day you'd never trade him for another bass player
• "You lot getting soft on me now?" He grinned sharply at you, licking the outside of his teeth as you pretended to vomit at the mere thought of being nice to him
• "I'd rather die and be reincarnated as a cockroach." You grimaced dramatically. But the both of you were smiling at each other, breaking up the conversation with playful punches
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pedgito · 2 years
Note
i can’t stop thinking about eddie eating reader out in his throne chair after a d&d game pls i NEED it
author’s note: when i tell you i screamed as soon as this request came in, i can’t even explain the feelings i’m having.
cw: 18+ (minors dni), semi-public (they’re alone and don’t get caught), more acquaintances with benefits, eddie has a small crush on reader, mentions of eddie losing his virginity to reader, oral (f receiving), fingering, assisted masturbation, eddie’s such a giver no one can tell me differently, lots of dirty talk, if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 3k
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You never noticed how often Eddie stayed late after Hellfire’s weekly D&D sessions—not until you started staying around too. Your acquaintance with him had been gradually growing and his hesitancy at letting you in the club at the beginning had been obvious and with a lot of added tension.
Maybe his anxiety of having you join came from the intimidation he felt from you—it’s how you liked to think of it, but he never had any good, valid reasoning for it. Eventually, with some convincing on Dustin’s part, Eddie gave in. Eddie would come to his senses after several weeks, a few months of your insistent cheerful attitude and mission to change his view on you.
And it wasn’t that Eddie looked at you negatively, that wasn’t even close to his opinions on you—he just couldn’t stand how easily you checked off all his boxes. He thinks it’s just a coincidence when he sees you wearing a Def Leppard shirt, similar to one he had shoved in the back of his drawer, but then it happens again with Dio, then Metallica, and Eddie feels like he’s losing his mind. You’ve always got your Walkman attached to your jeans and your headphones secured on over your ears and he can hear the beat of his favorite Ozzy songs as it blares through, the music flooding his own ears as you sifted through your locker beside him, but when Dustin finally drags you along to your first Hellfire meeting, Eddie can’t stand it.
Forget how much he complained about needing another person to fill out the table, or someone to fill in for Lucas’ growing absence, because when you walked through that door, all urgency suddenly faded away.
It wasn’t a no—rather an absolutely not.
Eddie still caved regardless; Dustin was an excellent negotiator.
Eddie gives you the cold shoulder for about three weeks; minimal conversation, barely any actual eye contact with you, but then you end up spending one night helping him clean up after a particularly rowdy session—half eaten chip bags, cold pizza, and empty soda cans strung about like a tornado had blown through. You’re not sure why you offered to help, but you did.
Selfishly, you were hoping Eddie would finally give up his defensive act of wanting nothing to do with you. But, he doesn’t—in fact, he’s probably more stubborn in that moment of you two being alone than he ever has been, but you can’t ignore the several times you catch him glancing over, eyes peeking up from where his head was downturned, trying to keep himself busy.
You were beyond it—taking matters into your own hands.
You shoved yourself between the table and him and he kissed you without question—heated and forceful, clearly he’d been holding this back for a while. It’s a dangerous routine you two fall into from then on and it never leaves the four walls of that theater room, like it doesn’t exist outside of there.
And Eddie should feel horrible for defacing school property in such away, but it’s the only area of the school that lends some remnant of privacy, sectioned off from the main building, and everyone was already long by the time you two started up—if it ever got that far, which was typically always.
It was a full-fledged addiction and Eddie couldn’t get enough.
Thus, how things ended up the way they did tonight in particular. Eddie was frustrated most of the day, it wasn’t hard to notice, but you don’t pry—you never did. It was an unspoken rule and you both respected it. But, you weren’t completely soulless and cheering him up seemed like the best option, even if the sex was better when he was tense and riled up.
You plop down his throne, a velvet cushion surrounded by intricate wooden design carved into the backing, it was a cheap knock-off of something that could potentially be worth the money—but Eddie loved it, cherished it, and never let anyone sit in it, not even you. His back is turned to you, muttering around with something near the entrance, shoving and stuffing some items away, only when you clear your throat does he finally look over his shoulder.
You expect him to make some snide comment or ask you to move, but he doesn’t, his eyes darkening slightly. And that scares you more than anything, body tingling with anticipation. He thumbs at the lock, flicking it closed and blindly reaches for a chair, forcing it under the doorknob for extra security.
You already know what’s coming, pressing against the arms of the chair to lift yourself up and out, but Eddie shakes his head, stalking toward you.
“Don’t move”. He tells you, voice smooth and confident.
You gently sit back down, watching as he wiggles his way between the table and chair, the legs of the throne squeaking slightly as he shifts it back.
“You’re not mad?” You ask curiously, head peering up to look at him from where he’s settled between your legs, hands pressed against the arms of the chair too, covering yours.
He shakes his head casually. “I mean—yeah, it’s my chair, but I only say all that shit so Dustin keeps his hands off, that kid would be power drunk if I let him DM for a night.”
“Fair point.” You nod slightly, eyeing the growing smirk on Eddie’s face. “I don’t like that look—“
“Why not?” Eddie asks teasingly, knee bumping your own to spread your thighs further apart. You didn’t wear skirts often, but the humid Indiana weather wasn’t too kind near the end of Spring and you really wanted to wear it anyways.
“It’s never a good sign.” You tell him, his figure sinking further down until he’s settled on his knees, wrestling with your legs until they’re resting over his broad shoulders. “See?”
Eddie laughs into the skin at the bend of your knee, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses into the dip of it, never trailing further up your thigh—he was waiting for something, eyes locked on yours.
“We’re out of condoms, Eddie.” You remind him, “We can’t.”
“I can fix that.” Eddie supplies—the hot, calloused palm of his hands roaming up your legs and over your thighs, squeezing at the flesh until you’re keening forward, hands shifting behind you onto the pad of the chair, trying to keep yourself from slipping any further forward. “I don’t need to fuck you to feel good.”
“Is that so?” You ask, watching his smirk grow into a full grin, finger squeezing harder, cunt clenching underneath the cover of your skirt.
“This is already doing enough for me,” He chuckles softly, your mouth falling open slightly as his fingers dip underneath your skirt, pulling at the hem of your underwear, “do you mind?”
You shake your head furiously and it’s all Eddie needs to break the dam, pulling at the material with fervor, already soaked with your wetness—and he somehow manages to make the awkward fidgeting even more endearing as he finally gets the last bit of your lace panties past your ankle, dropping them to the floor carelessly.
“Don’t hold back,” He reminds you, leaving a hot, saliva slick trail of kisses up your inner thigh, hands cupping under your calves until he can adjust your ass near the edge of the chair, giving him perfect access to your throbbing cunt, glistening with sticky arousal, “you know I hate it.”
The first contact of his tongue against your cunt is like electricity jolting through your body, gasp ripping from your chest as he licks you fully, moaning at the way you coat his tongue.
“Gonna make a mess of this chair, aren’t you?” He comments redundantly, lips closing over your clit gently as he sucks, one of the hands used to prop yourself upright shooting to his wild and untamed curls, entangling into them, hand molding the curve of his head as you guiding him slightly, hips rutting shamelessly into his waiting mouth.
You nod dumbly, head falling back as your breath quickened. “The velvet, it’s gonna get ruined.” You complain, voice catching on the last word as one of his hands joins his diligently working mouth, slapping at your cunt gently, the cool air of the hit a shock to your system. He laughs quietly at your reaction, startled and half-frustrated as your eyebrows knit together, staring daggers into his obscured face, tongue rubbing slow circles against the delicate bundle of nerves. He drags two fingers, your preferred middle and ring, through your excessive wet arousal and dips them into your waiting hole with no resistance, his face lighting up at your wrecked tone, letting out a broken sob at how easily his fingers sink into you.
“Who cares—“ Eddie replies, “so pretty like this, like a queen or whatever that saying is—“
“A throne fit for a queen?” You guess, a small laugh escaping your chest. “I’m honored, truly.”
“Yeah—yeah, that.” Eddie was only a savant with words when he felt like it, and right now he was far too distracted. “Wider, sweetheart.”
You obey, stretching your legs open further, letting him adjust you until they hang over the armrests, giving him even more room to work, both hands free.
“Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” Eddie tells you through muffled tone, his mouth occupied with your throbbing heat, “it’s fucking ridiculous.”
Despite the overwhelming pleasure you feel in the moment, you’re puzzled at the comment, remembering how he opted to leave out the fact that he was a virgin until his dick was already buried inside of you the first time, fucking you sloppily over the table.
“Wait—I thought,” You start, sensing the beginning of an incoming banter, but it dies on your tongue, just as Eddie’s prods inside of you, his idle fingers traveling up to your clit, giving it a deserved amount of attention.
“Just take the compliment.” Eddie grumbles against you.
You laugh softly, enjoying how easy it was to frustrate him. But the rumble of his voice against your cunt is satiating a need you didn’t know you had, the full vibrations like magic.
You hum slightly, “Keep talking.” You encourage him.
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow from below, half of his face buried in your core. “I’m a little busy.” He protests. You tug at his hair slightly, pulling his face away from your cunt, “—oh, you’re serious?”
There was something about his voice—warm and soothing, it brought you comfort, but the calming contrast of his voice as he spoke such filthy words was stomach-clenching, making your brain go fuzzy and lose all sense of time and thought.
“Oh—okay,” He nods, taking a short breath before letting his fingers take over for a moment, staring up at you wantonly, eyes wider than ever as you pull at his hair more, a soft grunt leaving his lips, “fuck—I really like that.”
“I know.” You reply confidently.
Eddie senses your pride, feeling the need to knock you down a peg—it’s not that he didn’t mind the easy switch in dynamics, but he needed to feel that control tonight, even if it required embarrassing you a little.
“Almost as much as I like watching you touch yourself,” He says, gripping the wrist of the hand bound in his hair, pulling gently until you released him, “—go on, since you felt the need to sit in my chair without asking.”
“But, you said—“
Eddie chin tilts up, head cocking to the side in warning.
“You’re so annoying,” You mumble, listening despite his obvious ego as it oozes from him, you lean forward and press two fingers to his lips and Eddie doesn’t even question it, wetting them gleefully with his tongue—and maybe you get too greedy, causing Eddie to pull tug your hand away, pressing it carefully to your already sensitive cunt, the pads of your fingers resting over your aching core, dragging through your folds and over your clit. Eddie let’s go then, using both hands to grip at your thighs, holding you open as you touched yourself.
You know he’s definitely straining in his jeans, hard cock pressed against the line of his zipper—so you imagine how pretty he looks bare, ruddy tip pressing up against the start of his stomach as he kneels before you.
He’s watching, unashamed—lips pink and swollen as he pulls his bottom one between his teeth. You’ve never felt embarrassed or ashamed around Eddie, a stark contrast to any other person you’ve been with—Eddie adores every part of you, from head to toe, beginning to end, it’s everything you could want in a sexual partner—serious or not.
“Do you wanna come?” Eddie asks challengingly.
“Yes—yeah, I do.” You answer softly, a soft gasp falling from your lips as your fingers circle your clit, apply the perfect amount of pressure. You could applaud Eddie on how attuned he was with your body, but nobody knew it better than you.
“Fuck, look at you,” He replies with admiration, watching the way you cunt clenched around nothing, aching to be filled, “—god, I could fuck you right now.”
“Can’t.” You reply breathless, adamant on your safe-sex stance.
“I know,” Eddie agrees, “but, I can dream, right?”
“Dream all you want,” You snark, “but finish what you started.”
He laughs slightly, nodding in agreement.
“You’re right—sorry, sweetheart.”
Your fingers alone were enough, but you were being selfish, seeking the feeling of his tongue as it flattened against you, the ungodly noise as he ducks and laps at your slick, drinks it in like nothing, eyes peering up at you daringly, waiting for more.
You whine as his tongue works you over, his body unable to resist as his fingers join again too, filling you up with three instead of two, and it’s a lot to take in, even for you, his fingers mirror the girth and width of his own dick almost, long and thick, the blunt edge of his rings pressed up against your core.
“Look at me,” He muffled into your cunt, pulling back slightly to look at you, mouth glistening with wetness, “—want you to look at me when you come.”
You nod deftly, fingers working quickly to relieve that painful ache of an impending orgasm, mouth hung open on a soundless gasp as you tip over the edge—your vision whites out and you’re almost certain you go blind for half a second, not even remembering half of the encouraging, sappy shit Eddie says to you as you work through it—it’s like white noise.
“That’s good,” Eddie says softly, “—fuck you’re so warm.”
You almost forget his fingers are still buried inside you until he’s pulling them out, gently resting your back down to a more comfortable position, hips screaming for relief.
He takes his fingers in his mouth, sucking greedily—Eddie’s never been one to shy away from typically grosser stuff, he wasn’t ashamed of any of it. He’d just as easily shove his tongue in your mouth after coming down your throat, it made no difference to him.
You let out a rough sigh, making a weak motion to your discarded panties on the floor. Eddie laughs softly, reaching for the garment to shove them in your waiting hand.
“I hope you’re good at getting stains out ” You comment, feeling the wet, sticky puddle under your ass—a mix of his saliva and you, leaving a growing mark in the material.
Eddie makes a face of uncertainty, “Yeah, not so much.” He brushes it off, “Either way, no one’s gonna know.”
Which was true, it was just as indiscernible as all the other stains riddling the furniture in that room.
“Besides, there’s gonna be a few more by next week.” He comments slyly, you pull your underwear back on, lifting yourself from the chair with shaky, weak legs.
Eddie sees it, reaching for your arm immediately.
“Woah,” He smiles, “don’t go down just yet.”
“Oh, shut up.” You say playfully, shoving his hand away when you feel stable enough. “What are you even getting at?”
Eddie’s smile turns devious, crowding into your space as you fall back against the edge of the table, succumbing to another compromisable position.
“You, me,” His finger trails from himself to you, “and a lot of free time next Friday after the campaign.”
You smile slightly, patting his chest gently.
“Yeah—if someone can actually remember to bring protection.” You remind him, his face falling slightly.
“I told you I can pull out.” Eddie says defensively, voiced raised in offense.
“With your track record?” You ask, eyebrows raised in question. “I don’t think so.”
“It was one time—and the condom broke.” He tries to argue. “That wasn’t my fault.”
“You’re not knocking me up.” You tell him, finger shoving at the center of his chest. “We’re not even friends, Eddie. We just fuck, right? That’s what we agreed on.”
Eddie shrugs indifferently. “I mean, we could be friends.”
Your lips pull into a tight smile, smugness flooding your features. “If only you didn’t despise my literal existence on a daily basis.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Eddie nods in agreement, moving to allow you room to escape his entrapment. “If only.”
“At least the sex is good.” You shrug, grabbing your backpack. “Give me a ride?”
Eddie laughs at the hidden meaning, mind running with unspeakable thoughts. He senses your disapproving look, fixing himself immediately.
“Yes ma’am.” He clears his throat, throwing up a mock salute. “It would be a pleasure.”
He always manages to sneak his dirty thoughts in somehow, earning a soft smack on his arm in return. You weren’t good at resisting though, knowing that there was truth to it—Eddie was impossible to quit.
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holdinbacksecrets · 10 days
Note
your writing makes me feel safe, thank you. if i could request something? it’s totally ok if you aren’t comfortable but i was wondering how you think seventeen would react seeing their s/o’s self harm scars? but not the act of doing it; i’ve just been feeling a bit unworthy because of my own from my past and my mind wandered (but absolutely no worries if this is out of your comfort zone. i know self harm scars can be a trigger for sure (and you don’t have to reply in that case either)) <3 thank you either way
thank you for sharing kind words and requesting! i'm sorry for taking over a year to answer this... hopefully you still see this >.< i also hope my interpretation of your request is ok. sending you all my love 🥺 i hope you’ve been feeling better these days. you’re deserving of all the good things
seventeen: seeing your self harm scars for the first time
tw: mentions of self harming (no details of the act itself) and scars
seungcheol: he’d trace them with his lips, allowing his love to sink into the scars and caress their edges. he’d ask if they still hurt—if the memories are still piercing
jeonghan: “you turned your scar into a butterfly?” “yeah, it always made sense to get a tattoo, and it’s a reminder that pain and discomfort are fleeting. i’m never stuck.” “you’ve always had a thing for flying, haven’t you?” “yoon jeonghan, i’d exchange my arms for wings if i could.” “you’ll need me for so much more than reaching things on the highest shelf.” “you’re right… not the most practical idea.”
joshua: walks with you through the park after seeing the small x on the kitchen calendar, marking the passage of another year, and the feeling is overwhelming as painful memories flood your mind
jun: “so these aren’t from a bike wreck?” “i can’t believe you remember that…” “everything you tell me… i can’t forget anything.” “it was only our second date. i didn’t want to scare you away.” “you wouldn’t have, but i understand why you worried. i wish you didn’t have to.” “what do you think you would’ve said? would’ve thought?” “i would’ve admired you. i can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to share with anyone, let alone a person you just started dating. i would’ve felt honored that you trusted me with something so… intimate, something that leaves room for conclusions being made that you aren’t in control of.”
soonyoung: he asks if you’re ok now and immediately wonders if that was too simplistic of a question, but he means it. he wants to know if you wake up and feel peace or dread. he wants to know about the cracks in your smile. he wants to know if you’re proud of yourself now. if you were before. if he can do anything to make the dreadful moments with forced smiles easier
wonwoo: thank you for being here is the last thing you hear before drifting off, carried away by a current of warm dreams
jihoon: he cries for you and his childhood friend with similar scars. a man he hasn’t seen in years but thinks about the last week of every october—reminded of his birthday, hoping he’s celebrating well
seokmin: he holds you. he doesn’t want to let go until his tears have stopped. he doesn’t want you to know that the thought of you harming yourself pierces his heart, stops his breath, stays heavy on his shoulders, and keeps him awake while you sleep
mingyu: he wants you to know that no feeling you meet will ever scare him away. you don’t need the reminder, but he tells you anyway: you can always come to me. he will be your solid ground, the maker of comforting words and sweet distractions
minghao: will you believe him if he says you’re the strongest person he knows?
hansol: he doesn’t know what to say, and he’s suddenly afraid of his ability to support you. he hopes you can’t tell because this moment isn’t about him. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to turn to another if he’s unable to give you what you need. “it’s ok. you don’t have to have the perfect words. they don’t exist. i just want you to know. i’m so much better now. i’ve never been happier, truly, but the words were starting to itch and pull me out of present moments. summer’s coming, and i know you’ll see them soon. i just want you to know.”
seungkwan: so many questions roll around in his head. they stick to the back of his throat, and he searches your eyes for any signs of the capacity you have for sharing in this moment. you smile softly and offer a nod of encouragement. he takes a deep breath and asks the first one
chan: “do you ever…” “think about doing it again? i do, but i made a list of things to do instead.” “can i hear it?” “make tea, watch the sky, turn music on, call a friend, think about something yummy to make for my next meal, ride the train and stop as close as i can get to the library… i have a playlist of seventeen videos on my phone too.” “you’ve thought about it that recently? y/n…” “i didn’t make the playlist for that purpose alone. it started out of missing you, but i know it’ll help if i start to slip.” “you can always call me. call me first and call again if i don’t answer.”
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antvmnos · 8 months
Text
karasu
bi-han x female character x kuai liang 
summary: In another era, a powerful elder god with bravery to command and win battles, but  devised a cruel plan by Shinnok motivated by his cruel intentions, she was betrayed and killed for not accepting his deal. Now, returned by the dead and with a new perspective to start following Lord Liu Kang, she was trying to begin again and forget the painful past but her heart had other plans. 
1K WORDS. elder goddess, female gender, afab — mild language, violence, slow burn, mentions of death/blood, injuries. 
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You are surrounded by this decrepit place. Limbo seemed less worse in the legends you used to hear, until the day you were confined to remain there and could see it with your own eyes. Time does not seem to pass as it should, always returning to a repetitive starting point from his ancestry to his cruel death. You are forced to watch these events beyond your control over and over again, until you remember every detail, every line, every action, finally coming to terms, long ago, that it's not Raiden's fault — he was protecting the plans, just like You would do it too, you would give up your own life if it meant peace on the earthrealm.
Just as he also abdicated yours… right?
He wouldn't make it in time.
If he had been there, could things have been different?
He couldn't. Cause you deserve to die.
It is these questions that force her to resent her unfair punishment, fueled by this feeling of hatred. Indeed, there are fates worse than death. And you are aware of this by being here.
"I can help you free yourself from this place." A distant voice speaks to you. You are scared at first, but somehow it brings you comfort.
"I know what I did."
"It was never your fault. Shinnok's vile intentions doomed you, I saw."
"Yes it was. If I had fought him, I could have avoided all of this, I was foolish and ignorant to believe that Shinnok could simply… change."
He doesn't respond or agree with what you said. The male figure materializes in front of you, and in all your existence as a goddess you have never seen him before. But he couldn't be just any deity, he wouldn't be able to get to this place if he were.
If you could blush, you certainly would have.
"If you follow me I can't rid you of your memories, but I can give you a new purpose to move forward."
At first, you looked at him with palpable disbelief, deeply intrigued. You were afraid. Fear of everything happening again, of being used, of returning to this damned place. However, something remained there. He didn't seem to be bluffing or lying.
He didn't look like Shinnok who in every measly word spat out a variety of lies to usurp power.
Something inside you tells you to believe him.
You look around you, there is no life beyond this. You were alone. Each deity, when he died, acquired the punishment he deserved inherent to his actions.
"If I accept your proposal, will I have the peace I seek?"
"Maybe… much more than that. You must walk the path for the answers you want."
He extends his hand towards her, offering a tender look that moves her, for the first time, in centuries or decades, perhaps? You don't know how to discern how much time has passed since your death. Hesitantly, you touched his hand and that place you had been confined in for so long dissolved into a distant mist.
A misty memory of a dream.
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You shield your eyes from the brightness as you are greeted by the gentle wind of a morning, somewhere whose location is unknown. The world you once walked in prostrates itself before you again, this time a little different from that period but somehow familiar and welcoming. The birds chirp in a happy and infectious song while the soft sunlight touches their face warmly. You closed your eyes to taste the liberating taste of the usurped life, and for a brief moment you feel immeasurable relief at the sight of the vast rice fields and the village.
This world has changed during his absence, but at the same time, he feels that there is still a certain grace in it. Mortals have always captivated their attention in the little things, their appreciation for that land and its skills both in combat and its uniqueness.
 Your walk continues for a while longer, he takes you to an establishment. At the time of his entry, it was empty with just a few workers organizing the place. You don't understand at first his motivations for being here, but a middle-aged lady, upon noticing you, heads towards you.
"Liu Kang!" She greets excitedly. "I haven't seen him in a long time!"
He respectfully bows to her. You imitate the gesture, not wanting to appear rude.
"It's always a pleasure to see you again, Mistress Bo."
"So what brings you here?"
"Sorry to ask for one more favor out of the many I've already asked, but my guest needs to spend some time with you, if it's not inconvenient."
Her gaze flicks to you momentarily, looking you up and down, you flinch. Your clothes were not in the best condition, the kimono that once carried grace and subtlety was full of tears and blood marks, you immediately remember that infamous moment when your life was taken — the deep cut that marks your stomach. Instinctively, you bring your hand to the scar that extends from your lower back.
She was cauterized.
"Oh no, you know it doesn't bother her, on the contrary I will be very happy to help her. Gods, what happened to her? Poor thing, she looks horrible, covered in dirt and that is... Blood?"
"She… went through some difficult situations. I also hope to share your description."
You watch him without understanding why reality is blatantly omitted, he just shrugs and offers you a look as a silent request not to utter a single word.
Your thoughts are interrupted when your stomach makes a noise, as if a dark beast is living inside it.
The lady laughs.
You blush embarrassed.
"Don't worry Liu Kang, she is in good hands. Come young lady, let's prepare a nice bath and something for you to eat."
Without many options, you follow the woman into her affectionate grip. Turning to say goodbye, the god offers you a soft smile before disappearing.
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viridianevergarden · 1 month
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The Comforts of the Night
A/N: So I haven’t written anything serious in like 2 years but my elriel hunger is unfathomably ravenous so I decided to take a crack at it. This little fic focuses more on Azriel and is told from his POV. It’s a what if scenario that I hadn’t really bothered to specify precisely when in the story this would ever take place so 💀 Enjoy, I hope.
Word count: 3.5K
Ship: Elriel
Key: light fluff, angst
Possible triggers: Elements of poor self loathing/esteem, light mentions of blood and suggestive things.
• • •
It had been a long day for Azriel, so unbearably long. Such was commonplace for him, however, as being the Night Court's Spymaster unyieldingly commanded the workload.
His muscles had ached from stress nearly all day, though he effortlessly paid no heed, not until now. A part of him had wondered how, after centuries of the same work, his body hadn't become adapted to it. He couldn't deny that he worked more nowadays than he had ever done, especially with the threat of the incoming war growing ever closer.
Work had been unforgiving for a long while. The requirement of always leaving Velaris to go to war camps, courts, or even the continent had always been something Azriel loathed and wished he never had to do. Yet now, for a time, he had returned home to Velaris. As for how long he would stay, he had no idea. Orders alone had determined that factor and even those were ever changing.
The wind's chill nipped at Azriel's wings as he flew across the clear starry sky, peering down at the warm lights that littered Velaris' buildings and streets. Fewer people were out and about at this hour, and yet the city looked as lively as it did in the day. Perhaps some were going home after a fun night at a local bar, or others were merely enjoying the ever-beautiful scenery on a late-night walk. If only he had the free time to do so as well, he'd thought.
After circling the proximity of Velaris once over, he banked into the direction of the Townhouse. He would sleep there only for the night and leave again come dawn. As of late, Azriel had avoided staying at the Townhouse, at least for longer periods. But to his dismay, sleep softly called out to him, just as his shadows so often would.
From overhead, Azriel could see the Townhouse's gardens as he approached, making note of the newly planted flowers and sprouts that rimmed the tall hedges within.
It had been over a week since he was last in Velaris. Being here now, seeing the progress that had been made, he couldn't help but let his mind wonder about the one who tended to the gardens itself. He wondered about how she was doing, what else she was up to, and if she was doing alright.
His eyes continued to scan the gardens until they locked onto a pale mass of lilac, golden brown, and cream sitting upon one of the stone benches. The Shadowsinger knew exactly who it was. It was as if his thoughts of her had miraculously willed her into existence. The very girl that had constantly plagued his mind, plagued his mind just then.
But why was Elain in the gardens alone in the dead of night? On a chilly one no less? He had known Elain to be one to stay up late on occasion but being alone in the gardens at this hour was new.
Thoughts of what to do flit through his mind, contemplating whether to bank now and go inside before she noticed him or to see her— To talk to her and revel in the moment, to see if she is okay.
Desire wrestled with the fiends in his head, the ones that told him he shouldn’t. That told him he should go inside and sleep. To forget what he saw and stay away. That there was no need for someone like him to speak to someone like her.
Although it seemed that his mental war was all for naught. Quiet as his large wings were on the wind, it seemed as if Elain could still hear him coming from miles away. Like she had already known he was coming.
Her beautiful face turned upward in his direction, brown eyes wide in recognition. It was too late to turn away now. The female remained in her place, daring not to move as Azriel had landed a short distance away on soft feet. He flared his wings once before folding them in and tucking them closed.
They stared at one another before Elain bit her lip and spoke, “You’re back.”
Her voice was quiet and soft, and Azriel took a moment to just… Listen. His shadows had pooled to his feet at the sweet sound. Like they were in need of retreat.
He swiftly ducked his head to nod, “I am.” It wasn’t enough of an answer, not for her. “For now. I’ll be leaving again at dawn.”
“Oh… I see.” Elain’s eyes darted away from him as her hopeful expression faltered. “You must be tired, so I’ll–” Azriel shook his head.
She looked him up and down in worry, searching his eyes for some form of an answer.
“I’m fine.” He angled his head toward the flower sprouts across from them. “They’re coming along nicely.” A smile twitched onto Elain’s lips, and Azriel had known then that she was well aware of the subject change.
“I planted them a few days ago.” Right after he left if he had to guess. “They’re moonflower sprouts. They bloom after dusk until dawn.”
Azriel offered her a gentle smile, recalling that they were indeed one of the flowers that she had spoken about a time before. He could remember as much with little effort.
“Sit with me?” The sudden request made Azriel’s brows twitch in confusion. Elain stammered, “If it’s no trouble, I don’t mind the company.”
Azriel shouldn’t— Shouldn’t— but he couldn’t say no, not to her offer. Not to her. He stepped closer as she scooted down the bench a little, allowing him space to sit and move his wings to get comfortable, or at least as comfortable as anyone could get on a stone bench.
Being so close, the scent— Her scent of honey and jasmine was near enough to leave him intoxicated. His heart thrummed and he only hoped that she couldn’t hear it.
“Why are you outside this late?” The words slipped from Azriel’s lips faster than he could contemplate them.
Elain fumbled with the fabric of her lilac sleeping gown like she was thinking of what to say. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would come out here for a bit to get some fresh air.” A partial lie. He knew that much, and judging by her expression, she knew that he was aware.
Was Elain like him too? Did she have endless voices in her head? Were they the ones responsible for keeping her awake at night like they did him?
Azriel blinked, his hazel eyes sliding down Elain’s form. Just in her gown, no shoes or socks, no coat. Long, wavy, golden-brown locks draped over an exposed shoulder, over her creamy skin— “It’s cool out, you should have grabbed a jacket.”
Elain’s cheeks flushed at the realization as she quickly averted her gaze from him once again, taking interest in the moon-bathed pavement. “I didn’t think it would get this cold…”
The male took a moment to think, to think over his immediate thoughts, and determine what to do. Anything to avoid messing this up. But if she was cold—
“I’ll be alright, please don’t worry.” She had known, caught on too quickly. Elain had read him all too well. She always did, he realized.
Moonlit doe eyes stared back at him once more. Doe eyes… How beautiful they were. And her bright reassuring smile— it was more than enough to make him weak in the knees, bright enough to put even his shadows at bay.
Azriel’s lips parted in an urge before they quickly shut again, quickly willing himself to speak. “At least let me keep you from freezing.” He could provide that much at the very least, if she let him.
Before Elain could speak, the Shadowsinger slowly extended his wing behind her back, though careful not to touch her and not to disturb the blue hydrangeas behind them.
An offer.
She sucked in a breath that sent shivers down his spine and glanced back at the sight. She then slid closer to him, just a few inches. Close enough that their thighs nearly touched. That large wing gently— carefully— ever so slowly curled around her far shoulder, as if he thought that any careless movement could harm her.
His wings alone were not incredibly warm but they did help to retain some semblance of body heat in times of need. At the very least, they could protect from the wind.
“Thank you.” Sweet. Her voice was too sweet. Like a song. Azriel dipped his chin in response, not knowing how to respond properly.
“Your wings,” Elain paused for a moment, focused entirely on the one resting against her back and curled around her side. “Do they get cold too?”
A laugh nearly instantly slipped from Azriel’s lips. A low and quiet chuckle. “Sometimes. The cold’s bite can be relentless.”
Perhaps it was due to his laugh or some other thing, but Elain’s shoulders loosened in ease. A smile bloomed back onto her face as she peered up at him. “It was a silly question, I apologize. I’m just curious.”
“Curiosity is harmless. Never apologize for it.” The male smiled back at Elain. “If you have questions, you may ask freely.”
“Even if my questions are frivolous?” Elain joked with a small giggle, raising a curled finger to her lips.
Azriel’s warm gaze softened at the lovely sound— her laugh. “Even if your questions are frivolous.” A silly reassurance, but a reassurance nonetheless.
Elain hummed as she stared up at Azriel, that smile never faltering. The shadowsinger was the first to break eye contact, fearing that if he looked at her too long, he might do something foolish. That he might fall victim to his desires more than he already had this night. He looked up at the stars instead, for any manner of distraction. It was nearing an hour past midnight, judging by the moon’s positioning.
“If I may be so selfish to ask,” Elain’s voice called his eyes back down to her. “Could we stay here for a while longer?” Her tone was laced with meek hope. Azriel tilted his head in inclination, wondering why.
Elain clenched her fists and her lips trembled. She was searching for an excuse, anything not to seem impolite or desperate, it seemed. Before she could speak, Azriel had beat her to it.
“Yes,” He took a breath, “Of course we can.” Elain’s hands unclenched after hearing his confirmation, seemingly relieved by it.
They sat together in a comfortable silence for a while, merely enjoying each other’s company and the scenery that surrounded them. The silence was nothing new between them and it had never been awkward before but tonight, oh this night felt… Different. Here they sat, where only the stars might witness them, while all of Velaris slept.
Sleep. The shadows whispered into his ears. The girl wants to sleep.
Azriel turned his head to peer down at Elain, right in time to witness her dozing figure lean against his arm. He assumed it was hardly comfortable, given that he was wearing his Illyrian leathers, but…
He stared, stared at her. At the way the loose strands of her hair framed her face. At her long lashes and perfect nose. Her soft lips. Her lips—
Sleep. His shadows continued to beckon. Sleep.
Azriel knocked himself out of his trance, a small frown forming on his face.
He didn’t want to disturb her rest but it was getting cooler by the minute and this was no place to sleep safely.
“Elain…” His voice was barely louder than the soft breeze. But her name— Her name rolling off his lips—
Elain merely gave him a barely audible broken hum. She was falling into a deeper sleep by the second.
“We should get you inside.” He received no response and hadn’t expected one.
Azriel sat there for a moment to consider what he should do. He then loosed a quiet sigh and moved to pick Elain up. Carefully, ever so carefully did he crane one arm underneath her legs and the other to support her back. The sudden absence of his wing had caused her to cling to him, to any semblance of warmth she could find against the frigid air.
Her head rested against the black scales of his leathers as the male started for the doors that led back inside from the gardens. Silently, the doors opened for Azriel, by the work of his shadows no less. He passed the threshold and the doors closed, then he began his ascent upon the foyer steps.
The trip to Elain’s room was short and uneventful, thank the Cauldron. If anyone had seen— There would be no excuses to be made, no believable farce to cover how they had looked in the moment. And more importantly, to disturb Elain’s peaceful rest, Azriel wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for it.
His shadows had willed her bedroom door open, and Azriel nudged it further with his foot before heading inside. Hazel eyes scanned the view before them, taking in all the details of the room.
Perhaps it was due to his habit as a Spymaster to do so, to analyze every little thing in sight. Not that Azriel hadn’t long since memorized the entire layout of the townhouse, including the placements of any weapons within, but this room— this room was uncharted territory. He’d kept true about Elain’s right to privacy after all.
Elain’s room was clean and tidy, and had smelled so strongly of her— The old vanity desk in the far left corner was littered with stacks of books, he’d guessed, that covered the arts of gardening and botany. Several seed pouches lay scattered about, each labeled with names of different flora.
On the opposite side of the room was the massive canopy bed, centered against the wall. The bed itself was big enough to accommodate Illyrian wings. Such a thing had been the standard for every bedroom in the townhouse, but Azriel could only imagine how much better the extra space was for those without wings.
The rich wood end tables that flanked the bedsides had been adorned with smaller potted plants. Each were with little budding flowers in hues of pinks and blues, although they were closed for the night.
The ivory covers of the bed itself were a mess, and Azriel had guessed that she indeed must have tried to sleep before getting up— just as she had said before.
Azriel moved through the room and gently laid Elain down in her bed, pulling off the strands of hair that had snagged onto his leathers. Elain had hardly stirred during any of it, to his favor.
Scarred hands pulled the soft covers up to Elain’s shoulders and all the male could do was halt. He couldn’t help but stare. She had looked so… So peaceful. Beautiful. Even bathed in the silver moonlight that the bay windows had offered, she still glowed like the light of the sun at dawn.
He wondered, how could anyone not fall to their knees before her? How could they even think to hurt someone such as her? Someone so warm and sweet— Endlessly giving and full of light— So gentle and yet so strong—
The Shadowsinger thoughtlessly leaned down to take in her features, bracing his hand on the bedside to keep himself balanced. Elain remained ever so still, breathing slow and soft.
Oh, how he yearned to be able to hold her in his gentle embrace. Yearned to make her smile and laugh. Yearned to lay with her in warmth and comfort. Yearned to place his hand on her cheek and lift her chin the way he wanted, to lean down and press his lips against hers—
Azriel’s other hand had lifted, he’d realized, frozen merely centimeters from touching Elain’s soft cheek. His hand— Hideous splotched scars had consumed his vision, and plagued his mind like the terrible fiends did. Calloused and burned hideousness covered in the blood of many. A hand that did nothing but kill, maim, and hurt. One undeserving of anything such as this.
His hand quickly jerked away from Elain’s cheek and formed a fist back at his side, as if his own ugliness would singe her perfect face, her beauty. As if his ugliness would cast a shadow over her light and snuff it out for good.
Azriel stumbled back three steps, releasing a series of shaky breaths. His heart rushed and ached more than anything he had ever felt. Sickness fell to the pit of his stomach.
Leave. He needed to leave.
His wings tucked closer to his body as he turned, quickly and quietly making way for the door.
Stay. His heart pleaded. Please stay.
No.
No— He couldn’t— He shouldn’t—
Shouldn’t— shouldn’t— shouldn’t—
He didn’t deserve her. Didn’t deserve this.
No one could ever hope to deserve someone as perfect as Elain. Not even himself. No matter how much he felt for her. No matter how much his heart had stirred as heavily as the crash of raging tides. No matter how much his heart yearned for her love, her light, for anything at all.
Elain was not his to love. She was a mated female after all. One who was forcibly shackled to that wretched mating bond like a beast locked in a cage. But even then, oh then, she was not his. Never his.
Azriel silently closed the bedroom door and hastened down the hall, desperately needing some form of space. Of air. Anything to calm his raging and hurting heart.
He quickly reached his room on the opposite side of the house and retreated inside without a thought. Azriel couldn’t even bear to look at his hands, the horrid sight they were. How could he? How could he when he had been so close to tainting her flesh?
Fool.
A fucking fool.
He shouldn’t have been so stupid as to linger. To let himself go astray and even attempt to touch Elain. Especially when she was sleeping, when she was at her most vulnerable— Wrong, it was all so wrong. He should have just left her to sleep in peace the moment he tucked her in.
The Shadowsinger sauntered over to his wardrobe and slowly stripped the leathers from his body, unbuckling the countless amounts of leather belts and undoing all of the strings and buttons. One by one, each article was removed and tossed onto an empty table nearby.
This room seemed empty compared to Elain’s. Lifeless. Most of his things had been moved to the House of Wind, they had been for a while now. So this room was no more than a ghost of what it once was, but even so, it served its purpose well enough.
Leaving none but two siphoned gloves on his hands to rest, Azriel grabbed a set of night pants and slipped them on. He then walked over to his bed and laid atop the fixed covers, facing toward his window to view the sky. Near instantly did the pains of the day’s stressors set back in. He’d forgotten all about them when he was with Elain, he realized. That, and his exhaustion too.
Time always flew when he was by her side. All of his pains and worries seemed to go away in her presence. Everything felt so right when he was with her. But it was wrong. Still, it was wrong. So then why? Why was Elain forced with another? Why, when she felt so right with him instead?
Why were his beloved brothers, Cassian and Rhysand, blessed by the Mother? The Cauldron? With something so lovely, so sacred as love itself? As a bond— Something so few could ever hope to have, that many dreamt about, but Azriel was left alone?
Was he truly so horrible, so unlovable and undeserving that not even the gods could give him that blessing? Did Fate itself really hate him as much?
Azriel couldn’t understand, even when he tried so hard to steel his mind to the pain and misunderstanding. When he tried so hard to make himself think that maybe it’s just not meant to be, and that it was okay.
Happy as he was for his brothers, he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t prevent the pain and envy that so viciously ripped and tore and clawed at his heart like some ravaged beast. Like an unforgiving fiend.
Perhaps he had no right to love and be loved in return.
Perhaps he had no right to experience something as sacred as a mating bond. Not with anyone.
Perhaps Elain had never even begun to see him in the light that he saw her.
Azriel’s eyelids grew heavy and he could no longer fight the ever growing fatigue. His view of the moon outside had begun to fade to black.
Elain…
Her smile alone was the last thought that his clouded mind could muster before the darkness took him, just as it always had, body and soul. Just as he knew it always would.
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pyramid-of-starrs · 9 months
Text
The icing on top
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Pairing: Fuck boy Mingi x Black Fem Reader
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 4.6K
Warnings: Smut, Mingi kinda sucks sorry :(, food play, insecurities, cursing, oral sex (Fem recieving), Fem reader but no fem names used, Vaginal sex, Condom sex, messy, some fluff
Summary: Situationships with Mingi can be a rollercoaster, you wanted to surprise him at his studio for his birthday but when you aren't the only girl there it creates an awkward situation. What is Mingi going to do to fix this?
Notes: Happy (belated) birthday Mingi!! (Not heavily proofread sorry X_X)
Minors DNI
Smut starts here:
11:58PM, cupcake in hand, you stood nervously in front of Mingis studio door. You wanted to surprise him for his birthday, but he texted you saying he had to finish a track he was working on. You understood, these are things you deal with when dating an idol. However, you had to see him, birthdays meant a lot to you. Mingi always described his birthday as
"Just another day on earth." It was way more to you then that, it was another day you got to spend celebrating Mingi, someone you really liked.
You and Mingi were not technically official, more so trapped in the "talking phase" because Mingis schedule is so hectic, you rarely get to see the man. When you would text Mingis phone during the day his manager would reply letting you know that he would get back to you soon. His manager, bless him, was sweet enough to only give you that courtesy, he was open and honest with you and let you know that the other girls Mingi "spoke with" doesn't get a reply until Mingi remembers they exist.
You recall his manager once texting you and saying, "I like you, you have a good heart and want what’s best for him I'll remember to knock him in the head when he forgets to reply to you."
Though the gesture was sweet Mingi still forgets to reply and sometimes you would not hear from him for hours, days even weeks, but again you understood. Your life gets busy too, you were in your final term of culinary school and sometimes worked late at a bakery you worked at.
While you’re zoned out you realize the time was now 12:02AM.
"Oh fuck-" You burst through the door.
"Happy birthday Mingi!"
Mingi looked over at you and so did another set of eyes, which is when you saw exactly what was going on.
Mingi texted you 4 hours ago cancelling on you saying he was going to be at the studio late but what he did not mention was that someone else would be there, and not just anyone. It was who you like to call "one of his other hoes". You're standing there silently with a big dumb smile on your face, a cupcake with a lit candle and another girl sitting on your man that’s not your man’s lap, what a fun sight indeed.
"Oh, sorry I-I didn't know you had someone here." you start stuttering and moving franticly, hurrying to blow out the candle.
"Y/N I didn't know you were coming I woulda-"
"No, no, no, no it's like totally fine, why would you know haha that’s what surprises are for right?" you said still smiling like the idiot you are.
The girl in Mingis lap- actually scratch that- the beautiful girl in his lap just looked you up and down.
"Who is this baby?" She looked over at Mingi and said.
Baby? Now you're getting irritated, you haven’t even started calling Mingi baby so why does this girl get to…
You don’t know rather to start swinging on everyone in that studio, drop to your knees and cry or just walk out in defeat. Time is moving so slow now and you wish you would have just stayed home in your short shorts and oversized t-shirt eating ice cream and watching family guy. Instead, you’re here with a full face of makeup, your curly hair all shiny because he loves how curly hair looks on you, a short black dress with your favorite oversized cardigan and high-top rick owns sneakers you saved up to buy to impress him. You shake yourself out of your thoughts and decided to be the bigger person here and just leave.
“Sorry, I’m Y/N, Mingis…Friend” You smile and reach your hand out to shake her hand.
“Oh! Hi, I’m one of the girls also fucking the guy you talk too.” She smiled while shaking your hand. That’s not really what she said, but that’s what your brain made you hear.
“Nice to meet you! Well, Mingi I was just dropping this off I’m-“ Your sentence was abruptly interrupted by another person walking into the door, Hongjoong, Mingis group member and leader.
“Yo, I don’t know how true it is, but I think Y/N is here.” He was distracted by his phone and not paying attention to see you standing right there, he had a pretty girl with him as well, she is also not paying attention and actually looks very irritated by this entire thing.
“It’s very true, I am here.” You turned to him and said with a sarcastic smile on your face. Hongjoong looking shocked like he just saw the grim reaper, he knew women and he could tell that was the face of a woman ready to cut someone’s head off and he was right. You couldn’t bring yourself to go off though. You wanted to leave with what little dignity you had left in you, so you put the cupcake down waved everyone goodbye and walked out silently.
When you reached your apartment Mingi didn’t even try to call or text you, your phone was dry minus the unread messages from other guys you’ve ghosted for Mingi. Deciding to not even think about it you went to get the makeup off your face and changed clothes. Once changed you decided to go back to your tradition of eating ice cream and watching tv on your comfortable couch. Due to your culinary background, you don’t have just plain ol’ vanilla or chocolate ice cream, you walked over to your fridge to grab the lavender and honey flavored ice cream you bought recently. Mingi often jokes about you always having “Some gourmet shit” in your house but one thing he always noticed was that you loved honey. You always had really high-quality honey around your apartment, or something honey flavored. Mingi even went as far as having your name in his phone as honey because of this that was just an assumption you made, you technically never knew why he saved it as honey.
Sitting on your couch watching tv, you pick up your phone to check the time.
“2:17AM” stared back at you, still no text or call from the birthday boy and you were over it, fuck him! You know technically you had no right to feel upset or jealous, you were there unannounced, you invited yourself there and most importantly, he is NOT your boyfriend. But you can’t help it, you can’t help but have the pit in your stomach, the rage in your chest and the insecurities in your mind. Luckily you are a sane person and you’re not made at the girl, no, she didn’t do anything, if anything she is a victim of male bullshit just like you. At the same time, you are jealous she was so beautiful and seemed so nice and you aren’t a slouch either, but she was Instagram baddie level. NO. NO. NO. Don’t be that girl, don’t compare yourself to the other woman just to make yourself feel worse. You don’t deserve that; you don’t deserve to deal with someone that makes you feel like this either.
2:39AM, you yawned, finally feeling sleepy, thank God you called off tomorrow because you planned an entire day to celebrate that asshole.
Suddenly there was a knock on your door, your stomach dropped, either that is a very nice serial killer or that’s-
You get up to look in the peephole, yup.
Mingi, he’s standing there looking tall and gorgeous as always. Fuck why do fuck boys always have to be fine as hell? You rolled your eyes and opened the door, not saying a word just gave him a “Can I help you?” kind of puzzling look.
“What’s up? You stopped by the studio and just left before I could talk to you.” He said and you arched your eyebrows, was he fucking serious?
“Yeah, Mingi you seemed pretty busy, so I left.” You walked away to sit on your couch, leaving the door open and him standing there, so he invited himself in and closed the door behind him.
“Is this about the girl that was there? Because I can explain that, HJ invited his girl to the studio and she brought her friend, her friend was a girl that I use to talk to and she just got comfortable, nothin’ serious.”
“In a studio room with a big ass comfortable couch and multiple chairs she decided to get comfortable in your lap? And that’s “nothin’ serious” to you? Please be fuckin’ forreal Mingi, I’m not stupid.” You rolled your eyes, shook your head, and went back to your ice cream and tv.”
He walked over to sit next to you, plopping down so close you were sitting thigh to thigh.
“Look, I’m going to be real with you, me and her use to fuck around but she’s boring so I ghosted her, I was focused on work and she came with her friend hugging and kissing me and telling me she missed me, I told her to chill but she still wanted to be by me and she invited herself to my lap. After you came, I felt weird, so she her and her friend left, I finished work and instead of going back to the apartment, I came here.”
When he finished explaining you genuinely couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, but it did make you feel kind of warm that he bothered even giving you an explanation, even though that’s the bare minimum. After you didn’t respond he kept talking.
“Look I’m sorry if that situation made you uncomfortable but at the same time, Y/N…we aren’t together…I know that’s not what you want to hear but that’s just what it is.”
Yeah, never mind on that warm feeling, all the groundwork he just put in is out the window.
“You don’t fucking think I know we aren’t together Mingi? You don’t think I know that I’m not allowed to be upset if you fuck with another girl?” you slammed your ice cream down on the coffee table and gave him a stern look.
“Alright calm down.” He reached him hand out to try to touch you, but you pushed it away.
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm the fuck down! I know we are both single and I know you can do what the hell you want but don’t sit here and not be real with me. You hadn’t texted me in hours and next thing I know you’re in the studio with some other bitch in your lap while I’m standing there looking like the dumbass of the year.” You were so upset that you got up and grabbed your ice cream and walked to the kitchen, not caring that your short shorts had rode up and started to show the bottom of your ass. Mingi was no longer listening he couldn’t help but to zone in on the sight. He needed to fix this, and he needed to fix it now because he needs you, bad.
There are somethings that were true about Mingis story, the girl that came was Hongjoongs girlfriends’ friend, but Hongjoong told Mingi his girlfriend was coming over and Mingi asked about the girl.
“Aren’t you and Y/N getting pretty serious though? You sure that’s a good idea?” Hongjoong asked with “Bro don’t risk it” written all over his face.
“Yea but, I forgot to text her back and it’s too late to ask her to come through so fuck it.”
“Okay, I can’t save you if something happens.”
When the girls arrived Hongjoong and Mingi went to their separate studios, Mingi absolutely participated in a little bit of making out and heavy petting but when you came with the exact cupcake he said he wanted for his birthday from the Italian bakery that always sells out he felt, dare he say it, bad. Mingi was a handsome guy over 6’0 feet so he naturally can get who he wants, and he was used to running through women within a 1–5-month course and telling them “I’m an idol I don’t have time to date.” When things got too serious. He told you the same thing, but it was something about you, he actually enjoyed having you around. He liked your quirks and style; you had a really pretty smile and a very genuine heart. He hasn’t dealt with a girl that actually can hold a conversation he enjoys in a while, until you two started talking.  You were absolutely worth getting to know, but shit started to get serious with you and when he tried to pull back and give you the same excuse, he was shocked when you agreed and said, “yeah I’m focusing on school and work too right now.”
Now, yes Mingi did start to feel bad about you leaving, but yes, he also came into the girls throat before they left, and he went to go fix things with you.
Mingi got up to follow you into the kitchen. “Calm down Y/N and hear me out.” You put your ice cream away and stood in front of him, he towered over you, it was like a gazelle fighting back against a lion and his bullshit.
“I’m not hearing shit out Mingi, don’t come over here looking for me after you just had pussy fall into your lap, LITERALLY!” you tried to leave the kitchen, but Mingi pulled you back.
“I’ve been real chill while you stood here screaming and yelling and cursing at me but you’re not about to keep walking away while I’m talking to you.”
“And if I do?” you looked back at him and said.
He pulled you back and pushed you against the fridge.
“Stop fucking playing with me Y/N, I’m not like the lame ass guys you like to waste time with when I’m not responding.”
God dammit, now your mad AND your pussy was wet, whatever happens from here is completely out of your control.
“I said I was sorry so...”
“So?”
“So, give me a kiss and let me make it up to you.”
You stayed silent for a minute but of course you listened, you kissed Mingi with your lavender and honey flavored lips. The kiss was hot and steamy, Mingi immediately stuck his tongue in your mouth like he wanted to taste the ice cream you just ate. On your way from pulling back to get air Mingi bites your bottom lip sensually.
“Damn, you taste so sweet, you know why I always call you honey?” He said looking at you with low and lustful eyes.
The heat in your core rising, feeling the thump on your clit was intense.
“No, why?”
He started to kiss down your neck, the kisses having some suction to them.
“Because you always taste so sweet, your entire body is like I’m drinking a bottle of honey.” Continuing to kiss and suck your neck you felt his hand go up your thigh and grip your ass.
Whimpers spilling from your mouth, and you grip his t-shirt to keep yourself grounded.
“Actually, you taste sweet too.”
Mingi pulls back, removing his soft and supple lips from your neck.
“Oh, yea I tasted the icing on the cupcake you got me, how did you get it? That bakery is always closed, and I can never make it on time?”
“Oh, well I actually made that, my friend that I’m in school with use to work there and he gave me the recipe for the vanilla bean cupcakes that you like, so I remade it and added my own special touch to the icing.” You smiled being proud of your culinary skills.
“Wow, you really are something else Y/N.”
You can’t help but to smile “Well thank you, I’m glad you liked it.”
“Do you have more of the cupcakes?”
Oh, uh- no actually only one of them came out tasting the same but I have a piping bag of icing left.” You go into your refrigerator and take out a piping bag of the home-made icing. It was a simple vanilla buttercream that you added some honey and mango extract to brighten up the flavors.
“Want some?” You offered him, he nodded, and you squeezed some on too his finger. He sucked the icing off, and you watched the whole thing happen you stayed silent while watching because you were so turn on in that moment. You bit your lips as he pulled his finger from his mouth, he smiled at you.
“Have you tried it yet?”
“Um- I tried some as I was making it. Not the finished product.”
“A chef should eat their own cooking, here.” Took what was left on is two fingers and coached them into your mouth, your lips gladly inviting his digits in. You closed your eyes and sucked and licked all the icing off, your hot mouth melting the cold icing onto your tongue. The flavors covering your mouth with a mix of Mingis and your spit make your heat even hotter. Mingi moved his fingers back and forth into your mouth, you could feel his intense gaze as he watched you while biting his lip.
Mingi removed his fingers from your mouth, you were sucking so hard there was a significant pop upon exiting.
"See it's good, isn't it? You did such a good job Y/N" a cocky grin on his face like he was the one that made it.
"Th-thank you." You took the praise to heart and to cunt, you regret not wearing panties because your shorts are sticking to you due to the mess being made in them.
He takes the icing from you.
"I wonder what else this icing would be good on." Your heart drops a bit anticipating his next move. Mingi lifts your shirt, and you finish the job by fully removing it, you opted out of wearing a bra because you were in the comfort of your own home, and you'll be damned if you felt constricted.
"Mmm what will it taste like if I-" he took the bag and 1 line going down your boob, starting from the top all the way down to your nipple. "ate it right off your gorgeous tits?" Mingi grabbed both your shoulders before diving it and lapping up the icing. Your breathing spiked, this was the sexiest shit ever, a man appreciating your food AND eating it off of you, this has got to be all chefs dream right?
Pretty moans were all you could do as he licked the icing off of your chest making quite the mess actually, but how could you bring yourself to give a fuck about ants when a fine ass man is sucking icing off your titties. The answer is...you can't, you can't give a fuck, you can't even think straight, you feel your mind blanking as he wraps his juicy lips around your nipple and flick them with his tongue.
"Mingi please" You were standing there rubbing your thighs together trying to generate even the slightest bit of friction between your legs.
"Please what?" He started to lick your nipples slowly awaiting your response.
"Please- I need you there too."
"Where baby."
"I need you to lick my pussy too...please."
"It's my birthday so I guess I do want more sweets."
He placed the piping bag on the counter and backed you into the wall then got down on his knees. He took your shorts off then lifted one of your legs over his shoulders.
"Wait Mingi lets go to my room or the couch."
He ignored your request.
"You're this wet for me already baby?" He leaned in to kiss your needy sex repeatedly getting closer and closer to your eager clit. Once his puffy lips sucked the nub your head dropped back and hit the wall.
"Fuck." was your only response, Mingi gripped the underneath of your thigh to get a nice firm hold on you. His tongue starting to explore your pussy to get a nice taste of you, mixing the taste of the icing and your sweet juices together to create a heavenly mixture.
"I love tasting this pussy so much, you’re the only one baby, the only pussy I love to eat." He said between licks, you again can't tell if he is telling the truth but even a lie could sound sweet in a moment like this. Drunk and dazed from your cunt Mingi takes his unoccupied hand and moves his digits into your wet hole. Mingi never stopped lapping up your juices as he pushed his fingers in and out of you. You felt the need to buck your hips and grind onto his face, your hands taking refuge in his hair gripping the short light pink locks.
"Mingi I'm gonna cum oh my god."
"That’s right pretty girl cum all over my face." You continued to gyrate your hips on too him, he sped up the pace as he slammed his fingers in you, his mouth now sucking your sensitive nub like it was a sucker. You gripped his hair so tight his scalped lifted as you came all over his mouth and fingers while incoherently yelling his name.
Mingi stood up and put his finger by your mouth and it was almost instinctual for you to lick your cum off of them. When you were done you realized you were fully naked and sticky from having spit and icing all over you. You got a little shy and used your arms to cover yourself.
"Aww don't get shy pretty girl, we just started." he pulled you into his still clothed chest and gave you a kiss, he then swiftly bent you over your kitchen counter.
"Mingi~ Why here why not the bed or something." You felt shy, being fully naked bent over in front of him so he could see you on full display made you want to scream.
"I need to fuck you right now baby." he reached into his pocket to pull out a condom, not even his wallet, the condom was in his pocket because Mingi knew he could lie and sweet talk his way into some pussy. I mean, was he wrong here you are giving him some.
He pulled his pants down taking his underwear with them then rolled the condom down his long and thick dick. Mingi didn't just have hoes because of his cool demeanor, no, it was that dick. Mingi had the kinda dick that you were willing to fight 100 women for, the kind of dick that makes you wanna bring HIM flowers, the kinda dick that has you bent over ass naked in your kitchen at 3am with 0 complaints.
He pumped his member a few times to prepare himself, guiding his tip to your tight entrance, you had just came so you winced abit when you felt to pressure of him trying to enter you. He slowly began to push his dick into you and your mouth was left agape. This wasn't your first time fucking him but with a dick like that every time feels like the very first time. It was a tight fit and your pussy was clenching and pulsing on his rod. You felt the knot in your stomach return. Mingi gripped both sides of your hips, he leaned down with his lips inches away from your ear, he whimpered at your pussy gripping his dick. The whimpers and him finally bottoming out inside of you had you seeing stars as you came on his latex covered member.
"Ah Fuck, damn did you just cum again? Don't go having all the fun without me, it is my birthday."
He started moving his hips to pump his dick in and out of your sensitive pussy.
"Oh fuck~"
The over stimulation provided a very intense kind of pleasure, a pain that felt fucking amazing, you can't help but to want more and more of him.
Mingi remembered the icing bag that he sat down on the counter and grabbed it. Before you could ask what he was doing he squeezed some of the sweet cream on the top of your spine.
Leaning in, he started to lick the icing up driving his tongue up your spine, you wanted to actually scream, and you did, you yelled Mingis name like it wasn’t late as hell at night. Fuck your neighbors, right? The only thing you cared about is the big ass Man fucking you until the only words you could say was his name. He continued to lap up the sweet icing while his dick pounded into your abused sex. Your eyes rolled so far into the back of your head if it was possible, you could probably see your brain.
Once Mingi finished licking up what was left of the icing he grabbed a handful of your curly hair and brought your ear to his mouth.
“I’m fucking you so good aren’t I baby?”
“Yesss oh my fucking GOD yes.”
“Mm are you going to cum on my dick for me baby? Make my dick all creamy.”
“Yes, fuck yes.”
He started to pound directly into your spot, the tip of his dick hitting you deeply, you started to see stars your legs became weak.
“Cum right now baby.”
And that you did, you came with nothing but praises of how much you love his dick fell out of your mouth. Mingi groaned as he reached his climax as well pushing his dick all the way into you and holding it there as he shot hot white ropes into the condom. If the day ever comes that you trust Mingi enough to fuck him raw you might go crazy and fight everyone in your path.
You both were exhausted, it was almost 4am, Mingi backed up and removed his length from your swollen cunt. He pulled up his pants removed his shirt because it was now covered in the remaining icing that was on your back. You were stuck after your mind-blowing orgasm and getting fucked into next week. He turned you around, picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter. You wrapped your arms around his neck and put your head on his shoulders. You were sticky, sweaty, covered in spit and tired as hell. Mingi put his arms around your naked body.
“I really am sorry if I put you in an awkward situation Y/N, you do mean a lot to me.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
“Well, I guess I should go huh?” He pulled back from you and looked you in the eyes, he said he had to go but his eyes said, “Let me stay”. Not because he was too tired to go back home but because he wanted to spend what little was left of that night/morning hold you in his arms. You made Mingi weak, you made not only his dick throb but his heart. You care for him, check on him, make him feel wanted, make him feel secure and make him feel special and he felt bad that he didn’t do the same for you.
“You know damn well you are not leaving after you just fucked me like that. Come on so we can get in a hot bath and go to sleep.”
You ran not hot bath with a cute bath bomb and some honey and oats bubble bath. You got in first and Mingi sat behind you holding on to your wet bad. You both too tired to even wash up you sat and enjoyed the warm water and the aromatic smells; you laid your head on his wet chest and he kissed your forehead.
“You know we go together real bad now, right?” you said with your eyes closed, Mingis heart dropped to his stomach at the thought of actually being in a committed relationship but then he thought about it, it was you and honestly you were worth it.
“Best birthday gift ever” he said in agreeance.
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findafight · 10 months
Note
Jonathan’s line about Steve in vol 2 was so…. I don’t know. I mean yeah it straight up confirms that Nancy and Jonathan make fun of Steve behind his back, and like I get that I have never been in Nancy’s situation so obviously it seems more mortifying to me, but I would have felt so guilty in her place. I can’t imagine not shutting Jonathan up if he started shit talking about Steve. Like Steve would have been straight up unmentionable if I was Nancy. Idk.
I get that Duffers don’t treat their characters emotional lives seriously, but like. That’s why Robin being kind to Nancy in s5 despite Nancy’s uh.. well frankly appalling attitude towards Robin, makes zero sense to me. I really wanted Nancy to struggle being in Steve’s group. Not in the “she deserves it bhahaha” way, but like… Steve dumped his friends for her (which was good for him), and her expecting to get the same treatment and meeting Robin instead? Who actively dislikes her and for a good reason? Who is smart and cool and kind? That’s way more interesting than people kissing Nancy’s ass the whole season, while she is actively putting Max’s life in danger. Like, yeah in high school she is the chief editor of the newspaper, and at home she is the eldest sister, and with Jon she makes fun of Steve, and now none of these people are here, but Steve is here and so is his bestie. And Steve is as kind as always, but Robin dislikes her, and it is not just prejudice
Nancy Wheeler you wild girl! She has no guilt lmao She's like yeah steve was dumb and annoying and didn't enable my investigation, and jon goes yep, what an idiot. All while Steve is just like. bumpin around making friends with little nerds haha. Minding his own business blaming himself for the end of their relationship. You're right, it's kinda bonkers because even if we take the stance that Nancy didn't cheat (which I believe she did) like. she still had him as her second choice and as soon as he pushed back a bit and didn't give her the kind of support she wasn't telling him she needed (until talking about exposing the lab in the library where anyone could hear) she jumped ship and ran to Jonathan. Why would she want to talk about Steve? Why wouldn't she want to try to forget he ever existed as anything other than Mike's friend Dustin's older friend? Is that not weird for her?
(i think you might mean s4? but i can work with s5 too haha) It's so much more compelling to me to have Nancy and Robin at odds with each other because Robin is like a little guard chihuahua holding a grudge for Steve. She holds grudges so well let her do it more!! like jesus give him someone in his corner! And also for herself! She got so nervous and tried to explain and defend herself, and Nancy only really started to listen once they got into the hospital. Nancy has a not great plan that puts one of the kids in danger, one of the kids Steve is close to. (Max wrote him a letter!!) I think Robin would really see Steve's people as her people, even if she wasn't personally close to them she'd still feel comfortable around the younger teens because Steve is? Let robin be critical of this plan. Let her call it out or something. Give Nancy someone to push against, it's no fun if there's no resistance! I want Nancy to be the one wanting friendship with Robin, and Robin not being receptive to it. Nancy not having a relationship handed to her would be refreshing and I want to see how she'd try to win Robin's friendship.
Let Robin not want to work with Nancy because she's heard the rumours about how her and Steve ended, even though he only mentioned that he wasn't a good boyfriend ans wasn't what she needed so it didn't work out. Robin saw that one week Steve and Nancy had a fight, and a day later she was ditching with Jonathan? yeah something is fishy there to even the most socially oblivious person. Let Robin know Steve well enough that she knew he at least thought he was telling the truth but that there must have been more. Let Robin decide she was going to do the most cliche best friend thing and not be very nice to the ex that broke her bestie's heart.
ooooh anon what you're saying is so interesting because, yeah. Steve dumped Tommy and Carol for Nancy, and that was good for him, and then Nancy got with Jonathan who doesn't really have any friends in Hawkins. So she's always been her boyfriend's main person of similar age they're close to. But now Steve's got Robin. Who is funny and kind and weird and loyal and smart and sarcastic. Who is obsessed with Steve and who Steve is also obsessed with. And that, from a s5 stancy pov, is so interesting because now Nancy is now competing (in her mind) for her boyfriend/potential bf's attention with his best friend. Like Jonathan was focused on his family, obviously (and this caused strain for them too) but it's not the same socially as a best friend taking priority. Steve would still hold those relationships, because they're good for him and good for the others, and there's zero reason for him to abandon them this time.
I think Nancy would hate it. Like Steve would obviously give her tonnes of attention, but with him having actual close friendships not just with Robin but Dustin and Max (at least) too, she'd still feel like she was bartering for time with him. That is suuuuch a fun potential dynamic between nancy and steve and also nancy and steve's friends.
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hotxcheeto · 10 months
Note
Heyyy could you please post something about Abby x female reader. So it starts with Abby and lev in a forest and suddenly someone shoots in Abby’s direction but not hitting her (on purpose) that’s were the reader comes in she doesn’t fight them cause she knows lev because she was on the island before and helped him in some way then she takes them to the place she lives (it’s kinda like Jackson just in a forest)
━ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓
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𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Mentions and a slight description of imaginary violence, abby and reader don't like each other for the most part, I don't think there's any cursing, the end though is open ;)
𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - I don't know if I like how I wrote this... ty for requesting though!! &lt;3
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The cracked, broken and rotting bark beside her head was not the place she'd hoped another arrow would make home. A few having already flew passed making her head dizzy and her body spin to catch just a glimpse or a sliver of whoever it was.
But there was always nothing, absolute barren surroundings that only had a milky film drenched over the top. It was impossible to tell whether or not you were close or far, right beside her or hiding fifty meters from where they stood.
The fact that she could not once locate you sent a surge of panic to set in whilst she ducked behind a tree, motioning for Lev to do the same. The boy stared at her, fear flooding his pupils but she was more focused on listening.
She couldn't hear a sound, speculating that you either were being completely still or if you were moving, you had been being extremely quiet yet articulate about the way in which you stepped on the dirt. Not a branch broke, or a leaf would rustle, just the own sound of her heartbeat in her ears. Pounding against her skull and beating violently against her ribcage.
It was as if her surroundings were desolate, but your threatening existence was still very much active and present.
"I know you're there..." She heard you before she seen you, your voice echoing off the silence, bouncing from tree to tree, it was impossible to tell where you were coming from. "I seen the boy with you."
Lev gave Abby a stare, she could see the adrenaline rush at just the mention of his mere presence. His life for a split second flickering across his pupils, images popping into his mind as he danced into a state of distraction.
"I know him."
And then he was back, both him and her looking at each other. Bewilderment stunning their forms as the crack of a twig finally gave away that you were in fact, directly in front of them. Standing there, holding your bow, but when Lev looked, it was pointed downward.
"He was my friend..." Your voice wasn't familiar at first, until he thought, because before now you hadn't talked much, and when you did, it was in whispers. Your husband preferred when you were quiet, but Lev liked all of your stories that you would make up from your head. Those made him happy, they made him forget about all the bad around him for a moment, they were familiar.
"Y/n?" He stood, much to Abby's dismay, walking out right ahead of you. Abby didn't hesitate then, only showing half of her whilst peaking out from the tree, cautious, as curiosity had once killed the cat.
"Why're you with her? She's a wolf." Abby tilted to look at the patch she hadn't ripped off her jacket, suddenly regretting the fact she hadn't tore it off and burned it a lot earlier.
"No, she left, after she helped me and-" Lev paused, noticing the way you tilted your head when his thoughts drifted again. "Where's Yara?" You then asked softly, cautiously, like you hadn't wanted to ask the question in the first place but you hadn't had a choice.
"She's..." You nodded, allowing him to come to a conclusion without having to say a word. "How?" You looked up at Abby, seeing the blonde shake her head. "I tried, they got her before I could..."
You hummed, pulling Lev towards you and into a hug which he hurriedly accepted. Your thumb moving to the side of his cheek to trace over one of the healed scars that still wasn't as faded as yours that have been and will forever etch out your cheeks to their shape.
"We heard about... about a place out here." Abby began, not needing to continue as you nodded, looking down at the boy. "I live there, but, they're not big fans of the people you used to... run with." Lev pulled away, looking back at Abby, worried.
"You can come... but only because you're with him." Her eyes were trained on the way you walked to her side, staring her down while your hand creeped up to her jacket. The tips of your fingers digging underneath the patch before yanking it off.
"They don't take kindly to the brutality on either sides." You held it out to her, fingers brushing over your palm when she took back the WLF patch and tucked it away. "Not what was mine, and not what is yours."
"She's good now." Lev interrupted, making you shift your body to look at the boy who stood up straight when he spoke. "I promise."
"A bug or a predator, she'll go through the same entrance questions everyone else does. Along with you, but at least you'll have a voucher." Her eyes about popped from her head when you spoke, following after you when you began walking once more.
"Bug?" You laughed at her tone, shrugging your shoulders. "Most wolves were fireflies once, you're apart of the rest of them, are you not?"
There was a pregnant pause, one that was tense and suffocating while you walked. She was choosing which nouns and verbs she'd string together in order to speak, but there was a rather large moment between, where all that was heard were the crunches underneath your boots.
"I was. They're gone now." You stopped, turning around to her as she finished speaking. "Not all of them. You're still here. Though, if you start taking the vigilante route and blowing our community up, we don't have a FEDRA lockup to throw you in. Unfortunately."
She glared at you, only for Lev to clear his throat in order to stop whatever ultimate staring contest you'd gotten yourselves into. Pulling you backwards by your hand to separate whatever tussle the two of you were going to get into if you continued standing that close.
"You know ab-"
"I wasn't always part of the... what did your people call us? Scars?"
"Stop it." Lev demanded, squeezing your hand to gather up your attention like they were scattered apples lying across the ground. "Both are gone, or dead. Just stop."
And you did, hushing yourself, giving a split second to look over her features. Examining the aggravated, fiery swirl in her grey appearing eyes. The way her jaw clenched and then relaxed when you took yet another step back.
"Let's go." You then mumbled, allowing Lev to walk in front of you while Abby behind you, even if that in fact made you nervous. You trusted Lev enough though, that his opinion on the girl kept you from shoving and arrow head through her neck and leaving her to bleed out.
"I don't call them scars anymore." She spoke quietly, Lev too far ahead on the makeshift path that weaved between trees to hear a single vowel. "Lev said that it's... offensive."
She smiled when you laughed slightly, shaking your head.
"Better than what some other wolves called us. They were cruel, inhuman, if you could even begin to call them human." You took in a deep breath, crossing your arms in a half attempt to warm yourself up.
"What they would do... the leader. Or do you call him the Alpha?" Abby snorted at your words, shaking her head. "Isaac. Yara got rid of him." You frowned, eyebrows furrowing. "Is that how..." "Yeah."
Again the act of talking become extinct, though the steps were much more comfortable. But there was something still strained about the connection between the both of you, you figured that it would end up staying that way. Not that you'd have it differently.
"Will they accept me?" She asked, looking over at you and seeing you tilt your head back and forth. "If I give a good word, you'll have a much better chance. But I'm not sure if I want to."
It was a teasing tone underlined with quiet threat, your hands adjusting your bag and bow while stepping down the old staircase that was a landmark that you were close.
"How sweet of you."
"I try... not very hard though. Your feathers are easy to ruffle. I wouldn't call you a wolf, maybe a pigeon instead."
Abby scoffed as you walked ahead of her, only catching your eyes when you turned to give her a grin.
"Well what're you waiting for? Come on, it's just up ahead."
It was a shame that you were agitating, because you were also a nice sight compared to the far worse things she'd been used to.
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year
Text
Jungkook
𝐄𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Warm Eyes
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Every year, he joins the old tradition of traveling, where his ancestors have once ruled the skies. Every year, he meets familiar faces and new ones he's never seen before. Every year, he watches how his brothers find their mates, build their families, and introduce new generations to stories as old as time. But this year, something might be different. This year, there's you - a treasure worth more than he could ever offer.
Tags/Warnings: Dragon!Jungkook, strangers to lovers/mates, mentions of folklore and traditions, modern fantasy, romance, human?Reader, Fluff, Courting, MC kinda wary of kook at first, but he's cute give him a chance pls
Additional Chapter Warnings: fluff
Length: Short (because tumblr eats long drafts these days)
A/N: no one's asking for drabbles so I'll make my own and force feed you until you'll like this AU
-> Masterlist
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
Every year, you look forward to this festival time.
Not because you're very social, but more so, because it's a time where you can finally act the way your inner dragonblood wants you to, without being judged for it. Just like right now, as you're lying on your back in the woods, wind occasionally blowing through the tall tree crowns above, birds filling the silence while the small stream of water nearby adds to the scenery around you. It's what you crave the entire year around- this moment of absolute comfort, simply existing without the pressure to make the most out of your time.
You can hear footsteps at some point, and as the wind turns, you immediately catch the scent of the one dragonkin currently trying to win you over in the span of time you're both spending here for the festival. "Is this your attempt at hunting me down?" You giggle to yourself, though you do snap up into a halfway sitting position when he's suddenly speaking right into your ear.
"I wasn't even remotely trying." He chuckles, especially at your clear look of shock for a second.
"…whatever." You mumble, sitting up next to him now, legs pulled close as you watch him sit down properly next to you as well. "Do they need me at camp?" You ask, but he shakes his head.
"No, I was just wondering where you were when I couldn't find you at breakfast this morning." He shrugs. "So I went out to find you."
"Stalking me now then?" You glare at him, and he laughs.
"I'd call it 'making sure my potential future mate is okay' but, you can call it whatever you want." The dragonkin smiles, catching you off guard yet again as you hide a little so he won't see you flush in shyness, before simply laying back down onto your blanket. And by peeking through your eyes after a short while of silence, you can see him still sitting right next to you- hands resting in the grass, arms holding up his body as he calmly watches his surroundings ahead, wind sometimes blowing his curls around. You watch how he has to move them out of his face every now and then, and can't help but snicker a bit to yourself at the sight.
And he just smiles as well, as he watches you sit up.
"Turn around." You tell him softly, and much to your surprise, he easily does just as told without even so much as asking to why you'd request that from hjm. It shows how much he already puts his trust in you, even if it's just small things like this.
You've never actually touched Jungkook up until this point. Not really, at least. His hair is thick but surprisingly soft as you collect parts of it hands careful at not tying it too tightly to hurt- only to somewhat help with it falling into his eyes all the time. "Thanks." He smiles as he turns back around. "It's never been so long before.. so I still forget a hairtie from time to time." He chats, and you shrug, as you lie back down, though now on your side to better look at him.
"That's fine." You shrug. "I always have one on me." You tell him- and the implication of it makes him unable to hide his grin, considering he's been noticing those small steps towards him from time to time now. You're slowly starting to show your interest in him, step by step involving yourself more and more into the whole process of getting to know him better it seems like.
And its fueling his determination.
"Did you plan on taking a nap out here?" He asks, and you nod, before you scoot a bit on your blanket, making room for him. It's a silent invitation to something much more than just for him to lay down next to you.
There's a saying amongst dragons, that those who fall asleep together will meet in dreams as well. And dreams of dragons all hold meaning- though most of those things have been somewhat lost to time at this point.
Jungkook seems to have trouble though, the small ponytail you'd tied of his hair pressing into the back of his head uncomfortably. "Just take it out if it bothers you." You giggle, watching him struggle.
"But.. you did it." He almost whines. "I don't want to take it out."
"I can tie it up again later." You roll your eyes, pulling the hairtie out of his hair. "Just remind me, and I'll do it again."
"Whenever I like?" He asks, cheekily hopeful as he looks at you next to him.
"Hm, sure." You shrug, before you close your eyes, and boldly turn to your side, hand on his chest as if to be connected to him in your sleep.
And so he holds your hand over his chest in his own during his sleep as well, as you both meet in dreams where you fly above the clouds.
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