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fayes-fics · 4 months

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A Welcome Intrusion

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: A drunken Bridgerton in the wrong room could be the start of something...

Warnings: none really... flirtatious drunken fluff, meet-cute.

Word Count: 1.3k

Authors Note: This idea has been lingering in my "wtf is this" pile of scenes I sometimes scribble down idly. I decided to add a little polish and make it a little one-shot, as I could not see it having a natural home in my other WIPs. I also have vague plans to do the same scene setup with Anthony as a character study of how their reactions would differ. Unbetaed. I hope you enjoy <3

You are sleeping fitfully - a stifling summer night makes even a thin cotton sheet too much to bear on your overheated skin - when your bedroom is rudely invaded.

In your half-awake, bleary state, you are not even certain someone is in the room at first, your back being turned to the door. Indeed, it’s only when the mattress dips that you truly startle. You freeze, facing away, completely uncertain what to do with a stranger perched on the edge of your bed.

Behind you, you hear someone undressing haphazardly, Clothing hitting the rug in soft whumps. Bile rises in your throat when the effort-filled grunt while doing so is decidedly male.

There is a triumphant noise, and then a body flops back onto the mattress with a self-satisfied chuckle. After a few beats, all is still, and you steel yourself to speak.

“Kind sir,” you murmur, not daring to move, clinging to the far side, “please leave my room.”

There is a decidedly undignified squeal of shock, more akin to a young girl, him flipping over onto all fours next to you, the movement causing you to turn over in equal surprise.

You both stare at each other as if burned; you clutch the bedding high around your neck as he pants lightly, recovering from the apparent scare you gave him, his breath carrying the rich aroma of expensive brandy. In the shaft of moonlight leaking through the curtains, you see the curve of his cheekbone, the sharp line of his jaw. Whoever he is, he is very pretty. Very drunk, yes. But very pretty, too.

“What in god’s name are you doing in my bed?” he demands, sounding alarmed but mildly slurred with intoxication.

“You are in my bed!” you squeak back, knuckles tightening around the sheet you hold, even as your traitorous eyes roam lower, entirely without meaning to. A slice of lithe, freckled chest muscle flexing over ribs as he draws heavy breaths makes something deep inside you quake. You quickly dart your eyes back up to his face.

“I think not! This has been my bedroom since I was three years old!” he attests with the blithe certainty alcohol provides.

Oh, so he must be a Bridgerton. That is perhaps an easy guess, seeing as you are staying at Aubrey Hall ahead of tomorrow’s midsummer Hearts and Flowers Ball.

“I don’t think they would assign a family bedroom to a guest,” you answer with a flare of sass.

“Yes, I quite agree. That’s why you should not be here,” he huffs indignantly.

“I was shown here by the head housemaid. That is my trunk there, the footmen brought in,” you point out, gesturing across the room.

He seems to ignore your argument but suddenly swings around almost violently, looking at the room.

“I don’t have that on my wall,” he frowns at a sizeable floral painting over a dresser.

“Maybe because this isn’t actually your bedroom?” you volley back with uncharacteristic brashness, likely a reaction to his presence affecting you the longer he remains.

He whips back and narrows his eyes at you. “Did Anthony put you up to this? Or Colin? Change my room around and hide you in my bed to fool me? Are you some doxy?”

“How dare you, sir!!” you blanche, horrified at his coarse language and that he could think you are any sort of woman of such low morals.

“My sincerest apologies,” he immediately looks thoroughly contrite. “You do appear far too well-bred to be such. But it still does not explain your presence in my room.”

“No, it does not,” you answer through gritted teeth, annoyance flaring at his continued erroneous insistence. “And that is because this is not your room…. dunderhead!”

The ferocity with which you spit the last word has his face morphing into one of befuddled incredulity, a single eyebrow arching.

“Sorry, that was impertinent of me,” you flush, dropping your gaze ashamed.

No!” he rushes out, “I… I liked it,” the confession apparently takes him by surprise as much as it does you, judging by his confused frown at his own words.

But then he seems to shrug and nod decisively as if agreeing with himself before he looks back to you, shifting so the light colour of his eyes catches the moonbeam.

“Who are you?” he inquires, cocking his head to the side.

“Miss y/l/n,” you respond.

“I’m Benedict…”

“...BrIdgerton,” you finish for him. “I assume, based on the fact you have a childhood bedroom here.”

He laughs; a rich, resonant sound that makes your insides jolt.

“Indeed,” he smiles, the ivory of his teeth catching the light. Again, you are drawn to how pretty he seems to be. “I am… quite intoxicated, Miss y/l/n”, he confesses, clutching a hand to his chest as if holding a doffed cap, “‘tis entirely possible I am indeed not in the correct bedroom.”

“I would venture that to be the correct assessment,” you offer with a meek smile.

“I sincerely apologise, yet again,” his face contrite as he shuffles into a kneeling position, his palms resting upturned on his thighs as if seeking forgiveness.

The problem is all your eyes can do is slide down his bare torso, lingering in places they shouldn’t—like the swell of his pectorals, the dip of his waist, and the pull of material at the junction of his thighs just a few inches above where his palms rest….

“I suppose it is only fair I let you look, seeing as I so rudely interrupted your sleep,” he comments dryly.

Your eyes jerk back to his face, met with a pointedly raised eyebrow and a knowing crooked smirk. You feel your cheeks aflame and bow your head, biting your lip, knowing you have been thoroughly caught in your ogling.

“I… I apologise, sir,” you mumble quietly, “I… I have not seen a man without a shirt before…” you admit in a whisper.

“And do you like what you see?” he teases, tone etched with beguiling menace, his mouth twisted into an intrigued pout as you dare to raise your gaze again.

“I… I…,” you falter, knowing that admitting such would be scandalous.

“Your secret is safe with me, Miss y/l/n,” he winks, “and I hope I am forgiven.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” you bustle out, tugging the bedding high under your chin again, wanting desperately to conceal the flush you know is creeping over your skin with every second spent in his half-naked presence.

“I suppose I should take my leave,” he sighs, his cadence reluctant, perhaps hoping you will dispute his assessment.

“That would be… the most prudent course of action,” you nod even though your fingertips itch to grab his hand and ask him to stay for reasons you don’t entirely understand.

He slides off the bed and scoops up his discarded shirt, a moderately unsteady gait as he tugs it back onto his body.

“Goodnight, Miss y/l/n,” he bows with a touch of comedic chivalry before he takes his leave. You cannot help but stare at his shapely rear as he walks towards the door.

“Goodnight, Mr Bridgerton,” you call softly, and before you can stop yourself, more words are spilling from your lips, something about this man making you daring. “I do so hope you will offer me a dance at the ball tomorrow to make amends for this intrusion.”

Even you are astounded by your words. Benedict pauses, his hand frozen on the door handle as he turns back around slowly, his mien surprised.

“It would be my pleasure,” he rumbles after a pause, a tingle running through your being.

“Until tomorrow, Mr Bridgerton,” you offer, heart pounding.

“Until tomorrow indeed, Miss y/l/n,” the velvet of his voice tickling your skin long after the door snicks closed behind him.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaa @urfavnoirette

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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yourpsicodelicbitch · 4 months

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Sun houses and fathers 🌞

Yoshitomi Nara

✨first post of 2024✨

take what resonates, leave what don’t 🎀 you don’t have to necessarily identify with it.

*I use whole sign system -house system- for more certainty

9H: you’re learning constantly from your dad. he teaches you what he’ve learned through his life. he’s teaching you about his mindset, the origin of his beliefs, why he stands for them. he could be someone very religious or faithful, and through that faith he could have teach you things he know now. also, he could be really philosophical and probably has a fixation with politics, investing. he could seem very patient or is constantly worried trying to understand how he can help you.

10H: your dad could be someone really hardworking, who you could have seen work really hard through all this years, making sure you’re satisfied in the economic and study aspect. he could have not been present too much when you were growing up and when he showed up he was too strict, he probably wasn’t conscious or didn’t know how to approach you -could be bc they thought him to bottle up his emotions-. you could end up studying/working on the same career/field your dad’s in.

11H: your dad it’s okay with who you are, or what side you show to them🧐. you’re their fav or they left you. you could feel like the only child/you are. he could seem too disperse, take it how you want to. idk why but mostly of dads of sun 11H are younger than what’s expected. he’s permissive. you were a spoiled kid, that has to do with your dad. “dreams” that word is important, he had a lot of influence and power over yours, he could have destroyed them or making sure you have all the resources -depending on the aspects-.

12H: your dad won’t judge your decisions or you. he’ll be a support. he could have difficulties to put limits in a father-son relationship, you could have felt stressed when you’re seeing how your dad is being bullied by your siblings bc of that attitude. you could have being the one who is protecting them or you’re the more serious/introverted one in the dynamic. or the total opposite: he’s too strict and you had to be careful on how to act. there’s something that happened there… you two could share something obvious, an interest, physical appearance, an adjective, etc. something everyone can point out. also, you could feel a strong or subconscious connection with your dad’s sight of the family.

5H: idk why I have the feeling you didn’t saw your dad for a long time and then you saw him, I’m trying to express that your relationship with him it’s not constant. he could be explosive or impulsive. he could contradict himself so much. he could have had you without planning it/unexpected -you were a surprise for him 🤩-. could be that your parents were young when they had you and etc. that’s why you’re like an experiment 😭 your dad doesn’t know how to approach you and he has a temperament. emotions here are fiery, when each other express their emotions they don’t take a seat and have a chat with a cup of tea, they’ll say how they feel crying and screaming.

6H: your dad could have OCD, no, I’m lying, but he could be really fucked up about order. “thinks have to be like this, why you didn’t let me this at this time?” Or the total opposite, not in the middle. he could get sticker in his routine and if things are not how he planned he get stressed. a perfectionist. he could be strict or conservative. he’s sarcastic, that’s why you could be sarcastic too. he’s hardworking and also could help on campaigns and etc. at some point you could have helped him on working on his health. and you could be the one who end up taking care of him/being the sibling who spends more time with him.

♡ Based on personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

#astrology #astro observations #pinterest #astro posts #astro placements #astro notes #sun #whole sign system #12h sun #6h sun #birth chart

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svsss-fanon-exposed · 5 months

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Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 2/∞

SHEN JIU VISITS BROTHELS ONLY TO SLEEP AND NOT FOR SEX

Rating: FANON - SUPPORTED

It is a widely-held belief in the fandom that Shen Jiu only visits brothels to sleep and for comfort, and never has sex with the women. However, the only thing that is directly stated is that his purpose for visiting brothels is for seeking the company of women, and because he feels more comfortable around women than men.

Though Shen Qingqiu was unpopular among his peers, it wasn’t to the extent of being kicked out of the communal sleeping quarters. He just loathed being in close quarters with those of the same sex... ...Liking women wasn’t the least bit shameful, but treating women like saviors, cowering within their embrace and seeking courage from them…even without anyone saying it, Shen Qingqiu knew that was horrendously shameful.

There is nowhere that directly states he does not have sex while at the Warm Red Pavillion. In fact, after Yue Qingyuan sends Liu Qingge away during the confrontation, it states that:

One person’s [SQQ] clothes were mussed and disheveled, while the other’s [YQY] had not a thread out of place.

It's often argued that the dishevelled and undressed state (a few paragraphs later, Shen Qingqiu is putting his outer clothes back on) is due to Shen Qingqiu having a fight with Liu Qingge, however, in this scene, Yue Qingyuan is able to stop the fight before Shen Qingqiu can even draw his sword, or before an intense fight can occur.

Yue Qingyuan saw that the situation didn’t look good and pressed Shen Qingqiu’s elbow downward, preventing him from drawing his sword.

It's important to note that it is uncertain whether the two had already come to blows at this point, or if Yue Qingyuan was able to prevent any sort of physical fight from occuring. It is also uncertain whether Shen Qingqiu's state of undress and dishevelment is from sleeping at the brothel, fighting with Liu Qingge, or the earlier fight with BZP disciple Ji Jue, which we do know actually came to blows-- maybe it is a combination of the three.

Therefore, it cannot be said with certainty that Shen Jiu does not have sex with the women at Warm Red Pavilion. However, even if Shen Jiu had undressed to sleep there, it still doesn't mean that he had sex. There's just as much, if not more likelihood that it is only for companionship. He is never described as being fully undressed, so while he probably didn't remove his outer robe just for a fight with Bai Zhan Peak, he was still wearing his inner clothes, which would be normal for simply sleeping in.

There is more evidence that he does not have sex with the women at WRP than otherwise, however, especially when considering the infamous exchange between SQH and SQQ in Bai Lu Forest:

Shen Qingqiu asked. “And where am I supposed to find a male virgin’s pee out in the middle of nowhere?” Once these words left his mouth, he realized that Shang Qinghua was gazing intently at him. “Why are you looking at me?! As for my former self—let’s not talk about that for now. You wrote Shen Qingqiu’s original character yourself. He’s unsullied without, degenerate within, always burning with lust. He had an affair in his youth and sought prostitutes as an adult. You think I’m still a virgin? And don’t point at yourself, Shang Qinghua was written the same way.”

Though with this passage one can make a fairly good argument that Shen Jiu was a virgin, since Shang Qinghua never directly refuted what Shen Qingqiu was saying, it still cannot be said with complete certainty.

The accusation that Shen Jiu was a lecher who was visiting brothels simply to satisfy his lust is canonically false. The real reason that Shen Jiu visited brothels was to seek comfort. However, it is not explicitly stated that the comfort he sought out never included sexual relations, which could still be seen as part of that comfort.

In conclusion, it is fairly likely that Shen Jiu did not have sex at brothels, and only slept there, however, since only the intention was disproved in canon, and not the actions themselves, it cannot be stated as a directly-confirmed, canonical fact and may be interpreted otherwise.

#svsss #shen jiu #fanon exposed #supported

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zablife · 1 month

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Now You Know the Truth (Part 7)

Tommy x wife reader

Summary: Dr. Holford comes to answer questions about Tommy's condition and you play your part as the supportive wife...perhaps too well.

Author's Note: My readers have spoken via poll, calling for a happy(ish) ending for this series. However, I also heard those of you who craved a dose of evil. I hope you enjoy the ending I've crafted for this twisted tale. I have to admit, I find it quite satisfying!

Warnings: medical situations, inaccurate medical advice, manipulation

Part 6

"If left untreated, the consequences would be dire," Dr. Holford concluded as silence blanketed the room.

Tommy stood from his desk and began pacing slowly, hands stuffed in his pockets as he began to shake his head in disagreement. "If," he mumbled disgustedly. He cast a long shadow where he stood above the doctor's chair, glowering as he pronounced, "You don't know a bloody thing about what's going to happen."

"Tommy, please, you promised to listen," you began, exchanging a worried glance with Dr. Holford.

"While you are correct that I do not know the exact course of events, I can say with certainty it is not a matter of if but when you succumb. Your wife tells me you enjoy race horses, playing the odds. Well let me assure you these percentages are not in your favor, sir. " Although the doctor tried to adopt a more forceful tone, Tommy only scoffed in reply.

"You people and your percentages. Wasn't it your doctors who told my aunt the gold salts worked without fail?" he asked, eyebrow cocked defiantly.

"As I've explained, your condition is quite different and the treatment I'm offering is a new cure," the doctor assured. "It's less invasive and we would keep your confinement to the absolute minimum."

Tommy stood rubbing his temples as he considered the gravity of the situation. Finally he asked through gritted teeth, "How long?"

"I'm afraid we won't know until we've begun, but cases similar to yours have taken less than six months,” Dr. Holford advised, mouth twitching slightly as he spoke. Every moment spent deceiving your husband was wearing down his defenses and you prayed Tommy wouldn't notice the poorly concealed nervous tremor.

Tommy grumbled as he reached for his cigarette case, a rumble of dissatisfaction issuing forth. "I'm a busy man, doctor. My business interests combined with the care of my pregnant wife….That isn't possible," he concluded, the snap of his lighter finalizing the decision hastily.

Rising to your feet, you placed a hand to Tommy's forearm gently. "That's exactly why you must get well soon," you pleaded. "I need you, Tom," you said with as much sincerity as you could muster.

Though you could feel his icy blue eyes upon you, a sudden waft of smoke created a veil between you. Momentarily, you were transported to Dr. Holford's office and the moment your final plan for Tommy took shape.

I will insist he get well and thus he will refuse to go. That’s when you must present the second option. However, Tommy must be thoroughly convinced in order to believe he's chosen it for himself.

Yes, but are you certain this is what you want, Mrs. Shelby? The effects would be irreversible.

As you refocused on Tommy's crystal irises, Dr. Holford's voice came wafting over your shoulder like a siren call. "There is another way.”

Tommy broke from you suddenly, attempting to hide his curiosity and failing when he rushed out the words, “Go on.”

Sitting forward, the doctor explained, “Some colleagues of mine have shared their research on an experimental procedure to remove the tumor instead of attempting to shrink it.”

“A simpler, more effective solution?” Tommy mused.

“More painful perhaps, but certainly less time to execute,” the doctor conceded with quickening breath, his knee bouncing slightly as he cut his eyes toward you. “And the results would be..." he paused for emphasis, "immediate."

Your eyes gleamed at his word choice, hopeful Tommy would seize upon his promise.

“Pain is the least of my concerns,” Tommy replied gruffly, crushing his cigarette into the ashtray forcefully.

You could tell by his determination, he had made up his mind without you having to ask, but you voiced the question for Dr. Holford's benefit. "Then you'll agree to put this behind us before the baby arrives?" you prodded.

He only nodded with clenched jaw as Dr. Holford reached into his briefcase for the consent forms.

"Fucking get on with it then," Tommy announced to no one in particular as he signed them and stormed out of the room.

"Thank you," you mouthed to the doctor.

He returned your show of appreciation with a small, but triumphant nod.

----------------------

One year later...

"There she is! There's mummy!" Frances called in sing song, crossing the lawn to bring you a wriggling infant.

"Did you have a lovely nap, my darling?" you asked the tiny raven haired cherub, her bright blue eyes catching the light and glinting back at you mischievously. At times she looked so much like Tommy, it stole your breath.

"Not long enough," Frances replied with apologetic eyes. "Mr. Shelby woke her ma'am. I'm awfully sorry."

"Is he wandering the halls again?" you sighed.

"I'm afraid so, but the nurse is coming to fetch him,” she assured you.

"No, there’s no need," you replied with a cheerful smile. "We’ll tend to daddy, won’t we?” you asked your child, hoisting her onto your hip as Frances went back to her other duties. Meanwhile your daughter gurgled back at you happily and you stopped to admire her, heart flooding with overwhelming joy.

Strolling back through the well manicured grounds you surveyed the magnificent face of Arrow House. “This will all be yours one day,” you promised placing a kiss to her temple. “Mummy saw to it because I love you so,” you cooed to her in the soothing voice reserved for bedtime fairy tales.

As you rounded the corner to the room that you once shared with your husband, you sighed softly at the sight of him sitting on the bed, struggling to unbutton his shirt. A maid passed you in the hall, offering a sympathetic smile. “Mr. Shelby looks well today,” she chirped encouragingly, her green eyes shining with admiration for your bravery.

In truth, everyone looked upon you with kindness after the unfortunate outcome of your husband’s brain surgery. Though docile and calm, he had been left simple minded, relying on you for every decision.

“I think you’re right, Mary,” you agreed, closing the door to your husband’s room for privacy.

Bringing your daughter to his bedside, you watched him slowly form the words to greet her, a lazy smile settling on his face before returning to his task. Placing her on the floor to play, you turned back to help him remove his shirt and swing his legs into bed.

You pulled the covers up to his chin and pushed the fringe from his forehead, watching as his empty eyes gazed back at you. All the spite and malice of years past erased with no hint of the formidable man he once was. At times it made you believe you could love him if not for the suffering that came before, which you could neither forgive nor forget.

Pulling back to study him, your face hardened involuntarily at the memory of all the years you spent under the reign of his cruelty. How the tide had turned, you thought as you watched your now frail husband draw breath.

"Y/n?" he called out, hand reaching from beneath the duvet to reach for you. "My love?"

Leaning forward to tuck him in, your lips brushed past his ear whispering, “How long have you been dead for, darling? Lost inside your mind. Have you forgotten?" Your breath fanned over him in a gentle wave, making him shudder slightly and you relished it.

Your lips curled into a satisfied smile as you hissed, "I'm not yours any longer, but make no mistake you are mine until the day you die." Then you leaned down to retrieve your daughter, walking away to leave him sputtering in distress.

--------------------

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@lovemissyhoneybee

@red-riding-wood

@polishcrazyone

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@little-diable

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #dark!Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby

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hoshifighting · 3 months

Note

Lylaaa!!! What do u think about kyeom and yn doing this chapstick challenge??? I think it would be soo cute 🤧💕

chapstick challenge: blindfolding each other and applying various flavored chapsticks to their lips. the blindfolded person needs to guess the flavor of the chapstick based on taste and scent.

Dokyeom as an attentive person, since you two started dating, he noticed during your first kiss that you were wearing a strawberry chapstick. So every meeting you had, with his curious personality, he tried to guess which the flavor was.

As your boyfriend looked at the array of chapsticks spread out on the table, his eyes were gleaming with anticipation. "This is such a fun idea, babe! I never thought we could have a date night with chapsticks" he exclaimed, a playful smile on his face.

You couldn't help but adore Dokyeom's attention to the little details, especially the flavors of the chapsticks. It wasn't just a playful game; it was a reflection of the thoughtfulness he brought to your relationship.

Dokyeom's lips met yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, a gentle confirmation of his attempt to guess the flavor. As he pulled back, a satisfied smile played on his lips.

"You taste like watermelon," he declared with a grin, his eyes filled with playful triumph.

"Coconut"

"Honey"

"Mango"

"Peppermint"

"You're wearing vanilla now, right?" he'd ask guessing it right, again, his lips meeting yours with a certainty that left you both laughing.

"You're like a chapstick flavor wizard!" you exclaimed, impressed by his accuracy.

With a mischievous smile playing on your lips, you decided to add a twist to the chapstick challenge. You grabbed the sides of Dokyeom's face and pressed your lips against his once more. He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly taken by surprise, and you could almost sense the confusion in his blinking eyes behind the blindfold.

After a moment, he attempted a guess, "Is it pear?"

You chuckled, shaking your head, "Nope, guess again."

He tried a few more times, each guess getting more amusing as he struggled to identify the flavor. Finally, you decided to put an end to his confusion.

"It's cucumber mint," you revealed with a laugh, and Dokyeom immediately lifted the blindfold, blinking in disbelief. He checked the chapstick, as if questioning whether you were serious.

"Cucumber mint?" he repeated, a bemused expression on his face. "Who chooses that flavor?"

You burst into laughter at his reaction.

Dokyeom looked at the cucumber mint chapstick in his hand, still in disbelief. "Cucumber mint? Are you sure?" he questioned, a playful grin forming on his lips.

You nodded with a teasing smile, "Yeah. Give it another go if you don't believe me."

Without hesitation, Dokyeom leaned in once again, pressing his lips to yours his tongue brushing lightly against your lips. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind.

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tower-girl-anon · 1 year

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9th house and your experience through university

In this post will talk about the 9th house through the signs and your experiences, or possible experiences, through university and the all the careers that you could choose since one of the meanings of that house relates to our higher education. As always, I apologize for any mistake and don't copy or share this post without giving proper credit to the owner.

Note: please take this with a grain of salt. There are other things to consider such as planets in the house, aspects, and aspects to the ruler to define with most certainty about your time at university and the possibles career that you will choose to follow. The same can be said about the very general list of careers that I've put in each sign.

Aries: throughout your university years you will face, or faced (depending on the situation), a lot of competition. Maybe you had to study very hard in order to enter to the university of your dreams. Most probably than not, you wanted to enter a career or university that has too many applications each year and that's why you had or have to study really hard in order to get accepted. In a way, you remind me of the indian movie "3 idiots" (I highly recommend you to see it) in which various engineering students have to basically compete to reach the highest score and those who doesn't reach or pass the mark each semester are expelled. On the other hand, maybe you will face a lot of movement, activities or competitions throughout your learning. A few careers or professions that I can think of are engineering, physics, athletism (you could try to compete in a specific sport), gimnastic teacher, firefighter and policeman.

Taurus: your journey through university could be a slow but steady one. Maybe throughout those years you will have to save or earn money, or maybe your family will do it, in order to access the career or university of your choice. Overall, those will take a lot of effort from your part. A lot of study and a lot of work but, unless there are malefic planets in the ninth house or hard aspects to the ruler, I can totally see that those years can be or could have been pretty much a smothly process for you in which you will probably create some stable but caring connections with the those whom you'll consider your friend. A few careers or professions for those who have this sign in that house can be of a sales man/woman, an artist, designer, an economist, a cook or a business person.

Gemini: for those who have this mutable sign as the ruler of your ninth house, let me start telling you that I can totally see you studying more than one subject. Those who have these signs are more prone to earn more than one degree due to the natural curiosity of the sign of different topics (is rulled by Mercury). Usually, since this sign rules communication, the natives will pursue a career that involves these topic. For example, periodism, literature, linguistics or maybe will try to work as a writer, on an editorial or transcripting texts and audios. Your journey through university will be filled with curiosity and you will like to spend time with people who have an inner curiosity of things like you. Maybe you will like meeting new people there because that will be a perfect oportunity to learn about other people too.

Cancer: for those who have this sign, your experience through university will be a very emotional one. You will remember every experience, every joy at recieving good notes or connecting with your friends, every sadness at not passing a test, every anger, every fright, every cry. No matter if you are conscious of it or not, the university period will be very much attached to your emotions, that´s why you will remember almost every second of that period in your life even if times passes. I can totally see someone looking at his/her diploma and crying with emotion while the memories run through his/her mind. In a way, you will like to study/work on anything that makes you emotionally satisfied or something that relates to emotions or children such as psychotherapy, nursery teacher, nurse, cooking, a teacher in general, etc.

Leo: if there are other planets and aspects that support this, your years through university could have been the best years of your life. Maybe those years gave you or will give you the time and space to shine, to show your abilities, knowledge and talents. You could have been very popular at that time or maybe those years will give you a boost in terms of self confidence, chances of meeting new people and forming romantic relationships. On the other hand, maybe you were able to study in one of the most prestigious universities of your country or you will be able to study in those in the future. One of the posibles careers or profession for those who have this sign are acting, politics, fashion, modeling, director, business, maybe you will like to be an entrepreneur or start your own business, etc.

Virgo: those who have this sign mutable sign as the ruler of this house, just like gemini, could have more than one degree or will want to earn more than one. But this sign is slightly different from Gemini even though they are both ruled by Mercury. And that difference reside in the fact that this sign is, most of the time, a perfectionist. It's a very detail oriented sign so that's why those who have this sign wants to learn more. To increase their knowledge in the area they choose to study. To improve demselves. In generall, they will try to study something that involves a lot of memory, details and technique such as medicine, nursing, editing, therapy, psychology, veterinary, etc. Throughout those years, you could have been or will be very strict with your time and hours of studying since most of the careers mentioned about requieres constant learning, technique and goos memory.

Libra: the journey of this individual through university could be a very balanced one. With this, I mean that they will know how to balance the times of studying and socializing when it's needed so they won't fall into the situation of overworking themselves to exhaustion or socializing too much to the point of being so hard for them to keep with their works and test. Since this sign reminds me so much of the Justice card in Tarot, I know that they are smart at putting a balance between fun and work during those years. In matters of possible careers and jobs to study for these individuals there is art due to Venus being the ruler of the sign, law, any career that involves the contact with other people and helping them such as a counselor, advicer, psychologist, etc.

Scorpio: your journey through university will complete change you. In my opinion, those who have this sign in this house will suffer some kind of transformation. It doesn't matter if it is good or bad, you will, somehow, change during the period of your university years. Of course, it also depends on the planets that resides in your ninth house but, just by looking the sign, it speaks of a life-changing and intense period of your life. You may struggle to keep the peace through all the subjects and lectures of your chosen career. Maybe there is a risk of loosing your chosen career due to bad grades or you won't like the path that you choose so you will change careers abruptly. Either way, it won't be easy but these changes can bring a huge potential of evolution and healing. A few careers or professions I see with this sign are a scientist, a healer, a banker, a politician, a terapist, astrologer, tarot reader or detective.

Sagittarius: for those who have the natural sign that rules the ninth house, your time at university could have been or will be pretty much an ejoyable time full of oportunities, grow and expansion. Of course, there is planets and aspects to the ruler to consider before trying to reach this conclusion but, with this sign, it can give you these effects since the planet of Sagittarius is Jupiter, the planet of expansion. Since this is also a mutable sign, you could have done more than one career. On another hand, there is a huge chance that you will travell aboard for your education. Maybe you will study or studied one semester or more in another university. Maybe it was a study exchange or, plainly, you did your hole career in another country. Possibles themes you could seek to learn are teaching, religion, turism, piloting, etc.

Capricorn: in the case of Capricorn as the ruler of the ninth house, you could struggle, or could have struggled, to enter to university because of circumstances. Maybe you don't have the resources. Maybe your culture or religion don't approve your choice. It could be anything. That could be one of the options that could unfold with this sign since his ruler, Saturn, create some karmic situations that seems to limit us or block us. On the other hand, your time at university or your career could be complicated and hard. You are responsable and hard working and yet there is a possibility of struggling with all your works, tests and evaluations. There is also a change of ending your chosen career and pursuing something else if there are other aspects that confirms it. Some possible themes I see you pursuing are ingeniering, medicine, law, bussiness, politics, history, etc.

Aquarius: there is a huge possibility that your chosen career to study is something totally different from what was expected for you. Maybe somebody believed that you were going to study something classic like medicine or law and you chose to follow arts. Or maybe you follow the path that was expected or you really liked to try but, one day, you've realised that you wanted to do something different and so you've changed your career abruptly. Those who have this sign will like to learn more about human kind, technology, any career that involves helping communities or something thats original and unique. Possibles examples are technician, influencer in social media, astronaut or investigator, actor/actress, director or worker of an humanitarian organization, etc.

Pisces: the foginess, mysterious and sometimes confusing energy of this sign can tell me that those individuals who have this in the ninth house struggles to find a topic or theme to study in the university. Or maybe they have a certain picture of themselves in the future with things they want to achieve but they don't know which path, career and university to chose in order to achieve their dreams. This confussion or uncertainty can make you to switch careers during your years at universuty. Maybe even more than one. On the other hand, maybe you have an inner interest in learning about the mysterious side of nature, the universe and life, that's why one of the many possibles careers or themes for you to study are alchemy, cience (especcially quimic), tarotism, astrology, etc.

This is all I have for you. I hope it resonates.

Love and light.

Tower Girl Anon.

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very-much-asleep · 9 months

Text

I love L’s rain scene so much because it’s basically him telling Light, ‘I completely see through all of your bullshit and there’s nothing you can do about it :)’

I mean, L completely roasts the man with the ‘has there ever been a single moment in your entire life where you’ve actually told the truth’ line, and it’s always unbelievably satisfying to hear it because Light deserves it so badly. Seeing him make up this fancy, flowery response to the question and L just says, ‘I had a feeling you’d say something like that.’ He is so done with Light’s nonsense and it’s amazing to see.

I also like how he sort of… mocks/ pokes at Light’s god complex, in a way? Or at least, I like to think L was completely aware of the implications of washing Light’s feet and that’s precisely why he chose to do it— as well as the line which is something like ‘it’s the least I can do to atone for my sins’ or whatever: he’s taking the piss at Light’s self-righteousness, and again, it’s incredibly satisfying after a whole series of Light getting away with arrogance and lie after lie.

Also… am I looking into it too far or does his behaviour also tie into Aizawa’s comment about L always getting the last laugh? As in, even when L knows he’s about to die, he still asserts his knowledge and certainty over Light without hesitation: kind of like saying ‘you might win this physically/ succeed in killing me but I still won the mental game ages ago’, in a way.

#L knows exactly what he’s doing and is making sure Light knows it #if he’s going to die he may as well go all out you know #sleep’s collection ➝ thoughts #death note #l lawliet #death note meta #kind of?

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vraisetzen · 16 days

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𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒍 – 𝑨 𝑲𝒐𝒌𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒃𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒕

Summary: Kokushibo practices; you watch.

Tags: NSFW, 18+, Smut, No use of (y/n)

Author's Note: A short writing practice to assure myself that I, in fact, still can write. Enjoy!

Sometimes, you wake in the middle of the night, and — realising that Kokushibo is not beside you — you find yourself prowling through the dark, unlit halls of his dwelling, peeking through paper doors and pressing your ear against shutters.

And every time you will always find him there, in the final room at the end of the path, his silhouette softly traced by the flickering of candles, its flame wavering to the gusts of wind sent forth by his sword as Kokushibo practices.

You are riveted by the way he moves — surely and silently, swinging his blade in a single arc to meet just a hair's breadth away from the marionette.

Kokushibo is strong, stronger than anyone, anything you have ever seen — this creature of the night who has lived for so many untold years and honed his art to perfection, and you never cease to be amazed by his craft, coming to a stop just shy of the room, crooking your head slightly over the gap in the doors.

There are no flaws, no openings to be discerned in his advance; the certainty of his stance, matched by the rippling of his hakama as he draws back before lunging forward once more in a different swing, the fabric coiling around his thighs–

Those thighs that you have straddled on countless nights as you rode him to pleasure, watching the monstrous countenance below your body give in to the slick, plush embrace of your sex.

How his eyes never leave yours, in the same manner as he is concentrated on the marionette now. His hands that grip his sword as deftly as he handles you, rough calluses that press up against the softness of your skin as he guides you over his cock, each plunge sending you into the warm, honeyed pools of pleasure.

A shiver shudders through your body as you close your eyes, letting your visions pass — no, it will not do for you let your thoughts take control of your faculties now. Kokushibo did not appreciate distractions during practice; he will certainly not be keen on satisfying your urges while he belayed his repetitions.

Or will he?

It was difficult for you to tell, for he did not require rest. With his demonic constitution, Kokushibo could continue without exhaustion, just as how over and over he repeats his motions: side step, sweep of the arm, bringing the sword down, stopping just before the marionette; then, back step, retreat, an undercut, blade slicing through the air. Behind the weight of his motions — light as air, dense as fog — like the collective knowledge of an immortal being, one that can only come with experience.

Just as how he carries you into his arms, folding you at the hip to ease into your sex, your cries breaking into a whine as the tip of his cock brushes that delicious spot inside you.

Your body is a manuscript to which only he can read, and he thrusts purposefully into your core, slipping against your aching walls, coaxing moans from your throat and bestowing sharp, biting kisses across your collar and down to your breasts...

You chastise yourself for getting carried away with your flights of fancy once more. But as you shift yourself to kneel more comfortably on the floor, you feel arousal clinging undeniably onto your sex through your nightclothes.

Your lips catch between your teeth as you fight back a whimper, and then a sigh. Clenching your hands into fists, you concentrate on the sight before you, adamant to ignore the stirrings of pleasure that have unfurled at the mere sight of your lover at his mettle.

From beneath the wide sleeves of his kimono, you can see his forearms; sinew tightening beneath the weaving of veins, green and blue against his pale pallor. There was something indelible about seeing this display of strength and confidence; though you are ignorant in the matters of swordsmanship, the most primal part of you knew danger when you saw it.

More than his being a demon, Kokushibo was an predator, and you his willing creature.

And in many ways, it mirrored his domineering ways in the bedroom when it was just you and he.

Those three pairs of eyes that will not let you out of his sight as he chases your pleasure, running circles around you with the barest flick of his fingers and the nimble swipe of his tongue until you are breathless, protesting for more.

Your slim fingers curling around his arms as he finally moves on top of and inside you, sliding in one motion until he is tuck to the hilt. Your knuckles turning white as you parted your legs further to receive him, your back arching into his heated ministrations.

This time, you do not cast these intruding thoughts aside, indulging a little more as you admire his posture. You could lose yourself in him for hours if your human body could allow it — your sex throbs at the mere thinking of spending the rest of the hours with him, as you wonder how he might take to you being here, watching him. In this dwelling of his, you cannot tell dawn from dusk, only wakefulness and sleep, you and him.

"Do you intend to sit there all evening?" he asks suddenly, breaking your reverie. It takes you one, two seconds to realise he is speaking to you, and then embarrassment washes over as you respond in what can be barely construed as a squeak.

I was only passing by, you try to explain, but the doors slid further open with a bang as Kokushibo takes a step forward to you in a split second, his stature towering over your kneeling form. You look up at him, eyes wide and body frozen at the sudden scrutiny.

Or perhaps he might be kinder than you realise. A beast though he may be, even the most basest of creatures have their needs. And it becomes all the more apparent as his gaze rakes over your body: the strands of your hair that cling to your forehead from stooping in the stuffy hallway, the tense set of your shoulders and knees as you swim against the rivers of your arousal.

"It is just as well," Kokushibo says after a beat. He loosens his own collar as his eyes settles on the open neck of your nightclothes, which betrays but a tiny sliver of your breasts.

With another tug, Kokushibo eases himself of his kimono, and you are regaled with the sight of his bare chest; his perspiration catches the dull light of the candle, its sheen bringing the smooth muscles into sharp relief. You lick your lips as you imagine its salt on your tongue, before letting your gaze lift to his face gingerly, testing the waters.

In a flourish, Kokushibo grabs you by your arm and pulls you to your feet; before you can protest, he is steering you towards the centre of the room.

"I was starting to wonder when you might wake," he continues, tipping you back with a simple nudge of his finger on your shoulder. Your legs crumple as you sit obediently on the floor; Kokushibo parts them with a firm hand on your knee as he descends on you, closing the distance between your bodies. He nudges his hips against yours, and you feel the tent in his hakama, heavy and hot in the valley of your sex.

The thick spell of his musk — raw, animalic, like a beast in heat, floods your senses. You palm his chest, the pads of your fingers catching on sticky sweat and gooseflesh. Kokushibo grouses as he dives for your neck, unfastening your clothes with ease. You respond to him readily, slipping out of the fabric like clockwork to give him your bare body.

The spark he sends across your bodies is pure electricity, far brighter than the new fangled lights they have on display in the city. It is neither daylight nor moonlight, but an abstract under which you contend with basking, a tantalising glow of the inferno that is to come.

This too, you think gaily, is practice.

For more of my writings, check out my AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vraisetzen/pseuds/vraisetzen

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kokushibo #michikatsu tsugikuni #kokushibo x y/n #kokushibo x you #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo smut #michikatsu x y/n #michikatsu x you #michikatsu x reader #kny reader insert #kny x reader #kny x y/n #kny x you

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p-antomime · 2 years

Text

ਏਓ — lactat!on k!nk with ajax!

𖦹 minors don’t interact. ┊ wc: 1K.

𖦹 content: service dom!childe, unprotected sex, lactation!kink, small hints of pervy!childe, overstimulation, pregnancy.

𖦹 pairings: bf!ajax 'tartaglia' x gf!fem!reader.

ᥫ᭡. taglist! ┊ genshin masterlist!

“You sure they don't hurt?” he asks raising his eyes and resting hands on the mattress below your already slightly weaty body, “They feel... so heavy.”

“They don't hurt as much as you think, Ajax,” you reply catching the breath and letting the head fall back.

It wasn’t from today that Childe made incessant questions about your much bigger and fuller breasts because of the pregnancy caused precisely by him, but as the days went by they seemed to get more recurrent and at every chance he used to ask about them, there was a gleam of curiosity behind his blue eyes. He seemed befuddled and at the same time determined to get something that you couldn't discern with certainty until now.

“But if they hurt, you’d tell me, wouldn't you?”

He asks and licks his lips to wipe them clean of your slick and you raise an eyebrow not knowing what exactly Ajax was getting at. He had literally just finished making you have the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life and the first thing he wanted to talk about were your tits; maybe you picked the wrong Fatui guy to date.

“Suddenly too worried about my tits,” you retort and see a smile slowly open on his soft lips that were now wet with saliva and your juices.

“It’s just natural that I care too much about you after fucking a baby into you, no?” he whispers and ghosts his fingers down your thighs, massaging them gently; you could still feel the slick wetting them a little, “Besides, someone must have told me a while ago that pregnant women’s breasts get more sensitive over time, but that there's a pretty easy way to deal with it.”

You let the head fall to the side, the way his fingertips were drawing imaginary circles across your skin near your still dripping pussy left no doubt that Ajax didn’t intend to let you out of that bed anytime soon.

“Who told you that?”

Childe leaned toward you and let his lips take hold of your neck in kisses and nibbles that eventually became sucks before he answered you, “A certain doctor.”

As he finished speaking against your skin, Ajax slid his fingers higher, rubbing your clit without much force, just enough for you to be distractedly whimpering as his eyes slid to your tits again starting to leak the warm milk that was usually wasted soaking the bed sheets or dripping down your belly from the beginning of the pregnancy.

Your boyfriend had already memorized the way they leaked every time he rubbed and toyed with your puffy clit, but he wanted more than that. Seeing was not enough, imagining the taste of your milk was no longer enough to make him cum while he was away from Snezhnaya without access to your body. Childe needed more! He needed to cup your tits with his soft lips and suck the milk out until his thirst was quenched and start this whole process all over again when he was thirsty again.

His other hand slides down to unbutton and unzip his pants and then discards them beside the bed on the floor, his face moves closer to your tits and his mouth hovers over your nipples already wet with the whitish liquid. If Childe hadn't been so into it, he would have been embarrassed at the way his mouth salivated just from his fertile imagination tantalizing him with thoughts of sucking your milk out until it left you almost dry.

His fingers rubbed your clit more nimbly and all his lips needed to do was open up and let his tongue lick your nipple before taking it inside.

Ajax felt satisfied, almost in heaven, feeling your warm sweet milk overflow into his mouth and down his throat. His eyes rolled up in pure bliss as his hand kept rubbing your clit with your juices returning to leak in piles and the other pumped his dick up and down, making the sticky sound of pre-cum spurting fill the room completely.

You, on the other hand, were holding on to the last thread of self-control not to cum again. Your tits were indeed more sensitive, and it seemed that every sucking motion from Childe made them even more so, but it was so pleasurable, so good that it left no room for discomfort. Your head got dizzy as your felt all the spasms coursing through your body and the warm sensation at the bottom of your belly become more intense, your hips forced against his fingers working on your clit, and little gasping moans in the shape of his name came from deep in your throat.

Your hands wrapping themselves on his giner hair and pulling his face further against your milk leaking breasts was all the permission he needed to continue.

Ajax wrapped his arms around your body and pushed you down until your tight hole was hovering over his cock. You could feel the swollen tip rubbing against your folds and without even realizing it a whimpered “P-Please” escaped from between your lips.

Childe slammed deep inside you, his mouth still sucking your milk out and releasing your pleasure at a level too intense for your poor overstimulated and overblissed body to handle. As a result, your pussy squirted over his dick and walls held him inside massively, hugging him with no intention of letting him pull away.

He almost thought he was going to cum at that very moment and accidentally let your nipple slip between his lips as he stared at you with dilated pupils, flushed cheeks and your milk dripping down his mouth and chin. It was such a lewd scene that it didn't even seem real. However, the Fatui didn't give you much chance to watch him like this for long, he resumed sucking the milk out as he began to thrust himself into your dripping pussy.

“A-Ajax, ahn! My milk–it, t-there won't be any left for our—”

He interrupts you with a groan and lets your breast escape his mouth briefly only to speak, “You can always make more for our son and me, I know you can, princess.”

ㅤ🏷 tagging: @myarlert @medusalovessnakes @imsatansqueen @lordbugs @goldenmnr @semisgroupie @qudvxnkanx @kuroaka @sleepy3 @scholarlogy @ushijimasthiccthighs @kumikocchi @crackheadwithtoes @hannas16 @chrissshub @rosso-seta @sxnriodollx @ren-simp @ranswhxre @bunnozi @alureasoley @wakasa-wifey @momoewn @jadeisthirsting @festive @namyari @httphaitani @aikonori @flamefoxxrecs @kittykat5742 @aerangi @nejibot @bunnyyamor @sherlyss @munsonsins .

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specialagentartemis · 6 months

Text

Fics about SecUnit 3 to Read Before We Get All Our Headcanons Jossed

Three! SecUnit 3! System Collapse comes out in one week and it seems like Three will feature prominently!

Three has been the subject of so much speculation and fascination for the fandom. We have a lot of different ideas about who it may become and who it might want to be.

Before all of that gets debunked by the new book, here's a rec list and roundup of some of the excellent fics that center Three!

Ficlets About Three and Murderbot Figuring Out How To Interact With Each Other

"Feedlog" by OnlyAll0Saw. 599 words. NR, Multi.

ART is a bit of a bully on the feed. MB is having none of it.

A well-done codefic that imagines the rocky early days of Murderbot, Three, and ART all figuring out how to get along with each other.

"Murder Mode Modules" by FlipSpring. 948 words. G, Gen.

3 what the fuck is ‘Murder Mode Modules, Do Not Touch Except For Situations That Necessitate Lots Of Murder?'

Hilarious, great voice, and surprisingly emotional for such a short space and silly tone :') Two excellent podfics!

"Real Things" by ArtemisTheHuntress. 715 words. G, Gen.

Three admits that it doesn't understand the appeal of fictional media.

This one's mine :) Murderbot and Three discuss media. There's a podfic!

Meatier One-Shots about Three Contemplating Its Identity, Who It Is, And What It Wants Now

"pink and green" by CompletelyDifferent. 5,100 words. G, Gen.

During a diplomatic trip to the university's home system to better establish the newly-formed treaty with the Preservation Alliance, Three tries to figure out who it is. Between exploring new hobbies and its sense of fashion, it attempts to figure out what its relationship with Murderbot 1.0 is, precisely. (Murderbot 1.0 ignores this, until it doesn't).

Hot Springs Episode! CompletelyDifferent @elexuscal writes character interactions SO well.

"Uncatalogued and Uncategorized" by lick. 3,033 words. G, Gen.

SecUnit 3 discovers that a hot shower is a good place to work out tangled thoughts.

I loooove this one and return to it regularly. The introspectio makes it a fantastic balance of character study, past trauma, and total confusion of what to do now with itself and its life. Includes a podfic by the author!

"Unacceptable Topics of Conversation" by lick. 4,500 words. Teen & Up, Gen.

Murderbot gives SecUnit 3 a haircut. They discuss the governor module.

lick does it again! The feelings are so fraught, the conversation held so gingerly.

Long, Plot-Heavy Stories About Three Finding Itself In The Universe

"Heuristic Analysis" by thefourthvine. 11,000 words. G, Gen.

Three makes some choices.

Three travels to Mihira with ART and its crew, gets involved in an AI Rights related mystery, and, as advertised, makes some choices. Well-written with some interesting worldbuilding concepts about the Pansystem University of Mihira and New Tideland!

"Seeking Safety" by petwheel. 57,000 words. Teen & Up, Gen.

Three assumes a new identity on Preservation, only to discover someone wants to kill it. To figure out who and why, Three has to delve into secrets from Preservation's past.

A plotty mystery, suspenseful and extremely creative, with some bold and unique takes on Preservation's history - and how Three can fit in.

"Function" by FigOwl. 65,000 words. Teen & Up, Gen.

"I have worked assignments solo before, and I have gotten used to the absences of SecUnit 01 and SecUnit 02. But I have not reconciled myself to the absence of Murderbot 2.0, though I know it is not logical. 2.0 made its choices, and fulfilled its purpose perfectly, and it seemed satisfied with that. I wish that I had any amount of such certainty and resolve." The continuing adventures of SecUnit03. How does a newly freed SecUnit make sense of everything without having consumed 35,000 hours of media for context?

Three goes off on its own self-actualization adventure after Network Effect.

Three On Preservation

"words left behind" by torpidgilliver. 4,400 words. G, Gen.

"How do you stand it?" Dr. Gurathin's tone is slow and even when he asks, "Stand what?" - SecUnit 3 shares its feelings with someone who might understand.

Three meets Gurathin. Also, a cat. Delightfully soft and gently sad.

"Social Competition" by scheidswrites. 2,100 words. G. Gen.

It's been a while since the last attempted murder/kidnapping, and life is good. Everyone is gathered for a celebration on the Mensah Family Farm. The rogue SecUnits invent a new sport. Drs Mensah, Gurathin, and Overse talk about work on their day off.

SecUnit sports! Murderbot and Three bonding without being too awkward about it! I love this.

"The Tree That Owns Itself" by BoldlyNo. 865 words. G, Gen.

There is a tree in the FirstLanding University Botanical Gardens that Murderbot is not thrilled about.

Murderbot and Three have conflicting feelings about a tree.

Miscellaneous But Also Worth Highlighting

"As Your Legal Counsel" by i_have_loved_the_stars_too_fondly. 1,000 words. G, Gen.

Pin-Lee informs Three of its options and legal status, should it choose to come to Preservation.

This one is so fun and sweet! Directly after Network Effect, Pin-Lee talks to Three about its options. Three is a little overwhelmed. Two podfics of this one, one by me :) Also @ilovedthestars your AO3 name is hard to type

"Past the Breakers" by Thylacine_Wishes. 5,300 words. G, Gen.

When Three is badly injured protecting ART's crew on a mission, Murderbot finds itself disagreeing with the safety protocols that it had written. It was supposed to be the SecUnit meat shield, not Three. It doesn't have time to figure out how it feels about that before it's diving in (literally) to rescue Three and maybe coming to terms with some things along the way.

Action! Adventure! Edge-of-your-seat drama written SO well! Almost drowning! Murderbot caring about Three!!!!

"Team of Three" by Lillow. 5,500 words. G, no category.

How Three of three became Three of many.

The tags say it best: the real team was the friends we made along the way. Or is it the real friends are the teammates we make?

Either way, Three finds a team, and people it belongs with.

#The Murderbot Diaries #Murderbot #SecUnit 3 #fanfiction #fanfic recs #fanfic rec list #ALL THREE ALL THE TIME #long post

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robinsno1lesbian · 11 months

Note

Hi hello filthy Robin thot for you

Sitting on Robins strap while you show her how to do makeup/do her makeup😵‍💫

Ok bye

older!neighbor!robin x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1172

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content (MDNI), implied age gap (reader is 18+), strap-ons, dirty talk (use of "slut" & "good girl") , rushed writing lmao

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ceebs your asks..........this is so rushed, sorry about that :/ (anyway i turned this into a neighbor!robin drabble because we love her, i hope you don't mind)

her skin feels soft against your fingertips as you hold her still. you're straddling her lap, both legs wrapped around her, and tons of makeup products spread all around you. your room smells like her, mixed with the scent of your own perfume that you have put on her. robin's breathing is slightly labored against your face when you lean in closer.

your other hand holds the brush you're using to spread the blush on her cheeks. for once, you know more about a topic -this being makeup- and you have to make good use of it. when the woman first stepped into your room, she immediately started examining everything, especially your makeup collection on your table. robin asked plenty of questions until you eventually just offered to do her makeup to show her how everything worked and what it did. to your own surprise, she agreed quickly. you should've known, then, that your little agreement held something for her too. a couple of minutes later, once you had gathered all of your things and put them on the floor, gesturing for her to sit in front of you, you understood. robin shook her head with a grin. "no" she had said. "i want you closer, sweet girl" you rolled your eyes and moved to sit on her lap. only then, did you notice what had been right in front of you this whole time. robin's palms crept up your back until each sat over one shoulderblade and she chuckled while stroking your skin. "what?" "robin-" you gasped, hips already rolling against the bulge of her strap on their own accord. "fuck" "but i still want you to do my makeup" she mumbled against your lips "you will still do my makeup, won't you?" your eyes fell shut under the heavy lust that overcame you at the friction. you leaned your head back, breathing picking up its pace with each roll of your hips. only robin's hands, suddenly coming down to your waist, seemed to ground you to this earth. "i'm talking to you" she rasped.

"sorry- i'm sorry" you managed in between soft gasps and moans the more the toy strokes against your clothed center. robin smiled, apparently satisfied with the reaction she was capable of coaxing out of you. "already so cock drunk and i didn't even touch you yet" she grinned.

⋆ so that is how you got yourself into your current position: on robin's lap, skirt pushed up your thighs and panties thrown aside, her strap sitting between your slick-soaked folds. she has her hands on your waist still, holding you still while you're legs are visibly shaking from the stimulation. her eyes are on yours while you're trying to apply the blush without getting too distracted by the pleasure throbbing within you. "c-close your eyes" you manage, setting the brush aside to grab eyeshadow and another, differently shaped brush.

robin does, with a smirk on her lips at the way you grind down slowly, thinking that this will go unnoticed by her. you try to do as she is asking you, you really do, but your fingers are shaking with the brush in them and your walls keep clenching around the strap, begging for her to move already. the sensitivity only worsens the longer she remains in this position and a certainty grows within you that you might just cum the very second she'll move. still, you do your best to apply the eyeshadow in a way that'll look decent once it is done. it's not like robin would mind anyway, with how little makeup she normally wears.

you take her chin in your hand and take a look at the work you've done from all angles. "looks good?" she smiles and flutters her lashes to present the look. meanwhile, your other hand glides down her shoulder, tightening over her skin. her gaze follows the trail it has taken before she looks back up at you. "what is it hm? can't even do my makeup without getting distracted? you said you could handle it, didn't you?" all the questions cause your brain to just short-circuit and you don't even try to hold back the moan that falls from your lips when she moves her hips upwards for the first time. "fuck" "oh?" she raises her brows in mock surprise. "so you can't handle it? too much of a slut for my cock to do as i ask?" your lower lip is trembling, even trapped between your front teeth. you shake your head frantically over and over. "i can" you gasp "i will" "oh is that true?" she hums and rolls her hips upwards again. your head drops against her shoulder and you whine against the fabric of her shirt.

"oh i knew it" her fingers stroke down your spine "what an eager girl you are" you press yourself further against her, moaning against her shoulder. robin holds some of your hair out of your face and strokes down your cheek. "well because you've done my makeup so prettily" she finally speaks. "i think you deserve this" she knows it isn't even halfway done yet but she seems to want this just as much and simply needs an excuse to fuck you into oblivion. it's not like that knowledge bothers you though, not in the slightest. "yeah" you whisper, getting louder when she starts thrusting her hips upwards "yeah, fuck, like that-" "robin!" "you take it so well" she praises and kisses your neck "good girl" you place a hand on the back of her head to keep her close. you know your orgasm is building up already, at an embarrassingly fast pace. "i'm- fuck i'm close already robin" "yeah? you're gonna cum already? gonna soak my strap?" "hmh" you hum, bouncing on the toy now and robin lets you. she supports each movement by rocking back up against you, driving the strap against your g-spot perfectly times and angled. "then do it, y/n...come on, cum for me" your face scrunches up in concentration and pleasure when you feel your release washing over you. only then, does robin bring her index between your thighs and rubs your clit in addition to how she is already fucking up into you. you're thankful you're home alone because the cry you let out can be heard through the entire building. robin sends you over the edge with sweet praise whispered against your neck of how good you are and doesn't even flinch but just encourages you further when your release gushes on her lap and around the strap. "fuck just like that...yeah just like that..." when you finally catch your breath, your muscles shaking and your cunt sore with overstimulation, she kisses your temple gently. "so good for me y/n" robin hums "you look so fucking pretty when you cum" you might've blushed under other circumstances but the orgasm is still hot within you and you can't even reply. "now" she nudges you "sit back up and finish my makeup won't you?"

#robinsno1lesbian drabbles #neighbor!robin buckley #older!neighbor!robin buckley #older!neighbor!robin x reader #neighbor!robin x reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley smut #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley imagine #stranger things

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putellas11 · 1 year

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A/N: Part 2 of Revenge is Sweet! All I can is say is that there's a very thin line between love and hate... Hope you enjoy!

Play Nice (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Parked under a flickering streetlight, your fingers tap impatiently against the steering wheel. The clock on the dashboard indicates that another minute has passed and yet, Alexia is nowhere to be seen. She knows perfectly well that you’re outside waiting for her, but it seems she’s determined to keep you waiting for as long as possible.

While certainty not eager to take Alexia out on a date, you’re not someone who likes to be kept waiting, and there’s no doubt in your mind that she’s well aware of that. Tonight, however, there’s no chance of her getting under your skin.

The cards up your sleeves are calling out to you, desperate to be played. The plan is very simple — tease Alexia mercilessly. It will take a lot of effort on your part, but tonight, she will know what it’s like to be the object of your affection. Alexia hates you — that you know for a fact, so you can’t imagine a worse fate for her.

A tap, tap on the glass snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Open the door,” a muffled voice calls out from the street.

Inside the car, you can barely make out her words but you can still pick up on the annoyance behind them. You fight the urge to roll your eyes and with a breath, remind yourself to stick to the plan.

“God, she’s so annoying,” you mutter under your breath and unlock the passenger door.

Without any sort of greeting or acknowledgement of your presence, Alexia gets in the car and slams the door shut. The first thing you notice is her dress. Thin burgundy silk skims over her every curve; a view capable of stirring up desire in any mind. Very much aware of your eyes on her, Alexia, with her arms crossed over her chest, refuses to look at you.

“Nice to see you too, babe,” you break the silence, unphased by her cold demeanor.

Alexia sinks into the seat, turning her body even more away from you. “Can we just get this over with, please.”

And so, the game begins.

“Look at me.”

Alexia insists on looking out the window, refusing to comply with your request.

A smirk tugs on your lips at her defiance. You’re left with no choice but to lean and reach over to take her by the chin, tugging it — and her — towards you. Alexia’s eyes widen and pupils darken, her mouth open in a gasp in response to your touch. A mix of emotions flashes across her face—anger, frustration, and surprisingly, maybe even a little bit of desire. But it can't be.

“Better play nice tonight, babe” you relinquish your hold on her chin, running caressing fingers over her parted lips, “or I’ll have no choice but to find someone else to keep me company.”

You don’t have to give a name for Alexia to know who you’re talking about.

Alexia wraps a hand around your wrist and makes it a point to dig her nails into your skin. “Fine,” she says, forcing your hand away, “I’ll play nice.”

Satisfied that you’ve won the first battle in tonight’s war, you lean back into your seat and start the car. A burning sensation begins to spread on your wrist originating from the crescent-shaped marks of Alexia’s nails. Instead of pain, however, all you feel is pleasure.

You might have won the battle, but she certainly left her mark.

After that, the silence in the car is thick. It’s almost as if there is a sheet of plexiglass between you and yet, there is much being said. You dare to glance over at Alexia from the corner of your eye from time to time and sometimes, you catch her looking at you too.

Stopped at a red light, you glance at Alexia one more time and prepare to make your next move. With her legs crossed, her dress has hiked a few extra inches up her thighs and the temptation is too strong for you to ignore. Alexia is more than aware that you’re looking right at her, but her stubbornness refuses to allow her to meet your gaze.

Unlike the first time, when you reach over again you do so with a tenderness. Your fingers delicately brushes against Alexia’s knee. This gets her attention.

Alexia snaps her head in your direction and you wait for an objection that never comes. So, with confidence, your hand traces higher and higher up her thigh, feeling the goosebumps beginning to form on her skin.

“You look beautiful tonight.”

Her jaw clenches in reaction to your compliment. A compliment you’ve never given her until now. She doesn’t say anything in response, but you can tell there’s something she so desperately wants to say. No words are exchanged, just silent back-and-forth through locked eyes and neither of you are in a hurry to concede.

But then the light turns green and it forces you to break eye contact. You have every intention of moving your hand away but Alexia rests her hand on tops of yours, keeping it right where it is.

This time, you’re not too sure if you won.

The rest of the car ride is spent in silence. You wanted to tease Alexia a little more, but she threw you off your game with her sudden acceptance to your touch. Her change in behavior can only be attributed to her doing everything in her power to keep you as far away as possible from Alba. You asked her to play nice, and that’s what she’s doing but you have no intentions of making it for her.

Arriving at the private and exclusive district of Sarria-Sant Gervasi, headlights shine on a modern villa that is most definitely out of your price range. Your late-night antics have given you the opportunity to brush shoulders with some of the wealthiest people in the city and every so often, you get an invitation very few have the pleasure of ever receiving. Some of your friends — who Alexia would certainly deem to be a bad influence on you, have also been invited.

Inside, the party is well underway. Laughter, music, and chatter fills the air but it’s impossible to make out a single syllable. All one can hear is noise. You, of course, feel right at home in this environment. Alexia, on the other hand, is incredibly tense. She stands awkwardly by your side, her body stiff. She may have thrown you off your game back in the car, but now you have the upper hand.

“Come on, let’s go say hi,” you say.

“To?” Alexia’s eyes scan the room hoping to see a familiar face.

“You’ll see,” With a light chuckle, you rest your hand on her lower back and give her a little nudge towards the outside area.

With the city lights in the background, you find your friends gathered by the infinity pool with glasses held loosely in their hands and heads thrown back in laughter. Despite being given a heads up that Alexia would be your date for tonight, the group is still taken slightly off-guard at the sight of you two together. They have been audience to many of your rants about Alexia and whatever she did that day to upset you and now, here you are, with your arm around her waist.

“Everyone, this is Alexia.”

Their initial shock goes away in a blink and of an eye and they welcome Alexia with open arms. You notice the little looks you get from your friends after they greet her. They’re all wondering what you hope to achieve with this little stunt. Wondering where it will all lead.

Alexia is not quite sure what to do with herself. She’s yet to take a single step away from you and if it were not for the fact that you know she’s just playing along, you might think she genuinely likes having you close.

“I’ll go get us a drink,” you say to Alexia, who’s eyes immediately go wide in a panic at the thought of being left alone with your friends.

Her hand reaches out to stop you, “stay.”

Looking down at your joined hands you realize you have to let go if your plan is to succeed. If she wants you to stay, you must go.

“I’ll just be a minute,” you reassure her with a light chuckle and a wink.

You start taking a few steps backwards and Alexia doesn’t let go of your hand until the last possible second. It’s not until you mix into the crowd that you stop feeling her gaze on your back.

Alexia may be feeling out of place, but you’re not feeling all that comfortable either. You expected more of a resistance, more of a fight from Alexia. Instead, she’s decided to try and beat you at your own game. It’s a good thing you’re up for the challenge.

With the drinks in your hand, you make your way back to Alexia more determined than ever.

“I got this…” you say to yourself.

Surprisingly, no one is where you left them. You stand in the same spot looking around with furrowed brows. It’s not until you hear a familiar voice calling out to you that you see Alexia and the rest of the group gathered around by the marble fire pit table.

Everyone is laughing and enjoying the moment but there’s Alexia, sitting in the corner fiddling with her fingers on her lap. But the second she spots you; she gives you a look that almost stops you in your tracks. You were gone only a few minutes, but she’s looking at you like she hasn’t seen you in forever.

Without you even having to ask, she scoots a little bit to make some room for you.

“Hi,” she says with a breath, reaching out for the drink in your hand.

The softness of her voice draws your near to her. The heat emitting from flickering flames is nothing compared to her warmth.

“Miss me?” you ask with a sly smile as it’s a question you already know the answer to. Of course not. Still, you reach up to tuck the loose the strand of hair behind her ear, allowing your fingers to trail lightly down the side of her neck.

Alexia’s eyes eyelids flutter and close, her body swaying towards you almost involuntarily.

“Why are you doing this?” she asks, with her eyes still closed and an undeniable hint of sadness in her voice.

“Doing what?”

Her lips part in preparation to explain herself but she hesitates and instead, shakes her head and focuses her attention on the flames. “Never mind,” she says.

Once again, you take two steps forward to victory but she forces you to take one back. She’s certainly not making this easy. Instead of forcing an answer from her, you take a sip of your drink and decide it’s best to be patient. The night is still young and there are still cards left to be played.

Slowly but surely, Alexia starts to loosen up and actually participates and interacts with the others. You watch her carefully, waiting for just the right moment to make your next move.

With everyone else lost in conversation, you know it’s now or never.

In an effort to not draw any attention, you slowly slip your hand under the fabric of her dress, where it drapes open down her back. Alexia pulls her shoulders back with a soft hiss, the muscles in her back moving and tightening under your touch.

Her hand grips your thigh and you begin to feel that similar sensation you felt back in the car. Nails digging into your skin. A sign of encouragement or a warning, you do not know.

As far as you know, no one is aware of the battle that is raging right in front of them. You and Alexia are in your own little world. A world where the battle lines have been drawn and you’re doing everything in your power to win.

Cruising your hands up over her shoulder blades, you take it slow, testing her response but also testing your own, wondering just how far you’re willing to go. Her hold on you tightens when your hand begins to trail down her spine, lower and lower…

“Stop,” Alexia turns to you, “I can’t… take this anymore,” she says but it’s almost like she has to force the words out.

Before you know it, she’s standing up from the seat and walking away from you. Now, there are certainly more than a few pairs of eyes focused on the scene that’s unfolding. One thing is for certain, you definitely have a lot of explaining to do after tonight.

Before you can lose Alexia in the crowd, you go after her. Alexia stands out from all the rest so you’re able to keep up with her. There’s no point in calling out to her over the music. Wherever she goes, you will follow.

A big group blocks the entrance and Alexia doesn’t seem to have the energy to force her way through. She has no other option but to go up the stairs to the second floor. You get a few angry looks as you push and shove your way through, but you couldn’t care less.

You make it up to the second floor just in time to see her turn a corner. The second floor is considerably less crowded so you’re able to pick up the pace. The farther she goes, the less people you have to shove out of the way. Eventually, it feels like you’re the only to two people left.

“Alexia!” you call out to her.

Alexia stops at the sound of your voice. She has her hands balled up into fists and you can tell she’s angry even with her back turned to you. This is the Alexia you know.

“No more playing nice, huh?”

It takes her a second to do so but when she does, you see something in her eyes that you’ve never seen before.

In an instant, she lunges at you, her hands grab on to your shoulders and pins your body to the wall with her own.

With one breath, her lips collide with yours. No time to react or question her motives. Alexia takes control, her hands pulling you by the hair, closing every inch of distance even when there isn’t any left.

A kiss you never expected but the moment the shock wears off, it’s a kiss you return with the same fervor. There’s nothing gentle or caressing about it. It’s hot and hard and it sucks the air from your lungs and yet, Alexia is not satisfied. She wants more. Her hands run up and down your body as if savoring every curve. Her tongue plays inside your mouth, searching, spreading a fiery craving within you.

But you can only allow her the pleasure of being in control for so long. With your arms around her waist, you use all your strength to turn her around, hard against the wall. Alexia’s gasp gets lost somewhere as your mouth closes over her lips, hard and punishing.

Alexia yanks your head back by the hair and it sends sparks of dull, pleasuring pain through you. To counter, you wrap your hand around her neck and apply just enough pressure to make her gasp and remind her of who is in charge.

“Play nice,” you warn her, but deep down you love her fighting back for control.

Alexia loosens her grip on your hair and that’s all you need to lean back in. But she stops you, pushing you away with force causing you to stumble back.

Just like you, Alexia is out of breath. Her chest rising up and down with frantic attempts to regain control of herself.

“This isn’t real,” she finally says, but not to you— to herself.

There are so many thoughts running through your head that it’s no wonder you can’t make sense of her words. “What?” you ask, breathlessly.

“This is all a game for you, isn’t it?” With her hands flat against the wall, Alexia’s guard starts coming up around her. “You don’t want me — not really,” she says with tears gathering in her eyes and trembling lips.

Overwhelmed by Alexia and her words, you cover your face with the palms of your hands and rub your eyes in frustration. “What are you talking about?”

“Why do you think I agreed to this?” the first tear falls but she quickly wipes it away, “I didn’t want you to go out with my sister because I hate you,” another tear rolls down her cheek, “joder!” she hisses, seemingly angrier at herself than at you. “I didn’t want you to go on a date with her because I-” she stops, the words caught in her throat.

“Because you what?”

Alexia runs her fingers through the tangled mess that is her hair and lets out a dry chuckle, “forget it,” she says, shaking her head. “You couldn’t care less,” she says, giving you icy look before pushing herself off the wall.

Before she can walk away, you reach out to grab her by the wrist. “Because you what, Alexia?”

Alexia yanks her hand loose from your grasp, “because I have feelings for you, damn it!”

A confession fueled by anger causing thunderous vibration to slip between your ribs, shaking your heart unlike ever before.

“I played along tonight so I could feel-,” Alexia looks up at the ceiling, lips forming into a tight, sad smile, “so I could feel what it’s like for you to want me,” her eyes fall back down to you, “want me like I want you.”

Your heart is beating so fast you can feel it drumming in your ears. When the room starts to spin, you have to remind yourself to breathe but it’s difficult with the weight of Alexia’s words weighing down on your chest.

“Congratulations,” she says, lips in a tight smile, “you won.”

Alexia turns her back to you and this time; you know better than to try and stop her.

Standing with your back against the wall for what feels like forever, you replay every memory you have of Alexia. The first moment you laid eyes on her, the first time you shook your hand, the first time you fought.

But then, you start remembering the little moments. How in the beginning she always wanted to be your training partner. Her being the very first one to run and jump in your arms after a goal. The few times you caught her staring for a little too long whenever you would strip off your jersey.

Little by little you put the pieces together and once the puzzle is complete, the reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks.

“What have I done…”

———————

Part 3

#alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso x imagine #woso imagine

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wolfythewitch · 1 year

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She isn't really sure why she did it to begin with.

Maybe it's because she's bored, all alone in her nest strung together by weeds and grass, decorated by a ribcage here or a femur there. Maybe it's because the man looked different, kinder somehow, a faint smile on his face despite how empty the roads were. He looked young, his face red in the midday heat, smile lines on his cheek. Maybe it's because of the blindfold he wore around his eyes, a thick gauzy thing, and a staff held loosely in his hand, tapping the ground before him in intervals. He walked with certainty, like he knew where he was meant to go. Where he had to go to slay her. Still, he cannot see. He will not be able to see her if she hides.

And hide she did, behind the trees and the brush and the forest floor, nestled among the grass and leaves with her breath as silent as can be. She was curious, and it got awfully boring waiting for the humans to come to her. These paths are long and winded and these woods are not safe when night falls. Her soon-to-be meal walks through without a care in the world, humming a simple tune as he just waltzes on into her territory. He amused her. Surely he would have perished by now, mauled by the stray monster or beats, had her presence not warded them away. It was not because he was blind, she knew enough not to underestimate humans, even with their scars. No, it was the way he carried himself, confident to an arrogant degree, unnervingly cheerful. It was as if he did not know the dangers of these woods, or perhaps he did not care.

Her eyes trail him for a few seconds longer, before the warrior stills, staff coming to a rest at his side. His other hand wanders to the hilt of his sword, fingers tapping on it a nervous rhythm.

"Who's there?" He calls out. It's a pleasant voice, all things considered. "I can feel you staring at me."

Ah, so he did. She did say that humans were not to be underestimated. They're strange, so fragile despite their tenacity. Yet, they thrive in the harshest of environments, like a weed that refuses to die.

She dons on her skin suit, an elegant thing that wouldn't fool the common man. It does well enough, she thinks, but it can't do much to hide the head of feathers she has instead of hair, or the ways her fingers stretch into long talons. Still, it will placate the human, if his senses are to be followed. Stepping out into the light, she says,

"Oh– I'm so sorry." Her voice is a bit rough from disuse, but perhaps she can blame it on the thirst. "I think I'm a bit lost–? I can't seem to find my way around here."

"Ah." The stranger's hand drops from his blade. Foolish man. His face loosens with relief, mouth widening into a grin. "No worries, mate. I'm heading down this path. Care to join? We can keep each other company until the next town over– if that's where you're headed to, that is."

He's so trusting, she muses. He did not even think to ask why she had been in these woods of all places.

"Oh! That would be great." She says, relieved. "I was so worried about having to spend the night here alone."

The stranger chuckles. "Of course. You can never be too careful in this place." She tries not to laugh. "My name's Phil. Can I have yours?"

She ponders for a moment. "Kristin." She decides, rolling it around in her mouth, satisfied with the way it sings. "You can call me Kristin."

Hi guys guess what I wrote at 3am

#philza #mumza #monster au #not sure if im gonna do anything with this #but also i find the words Skin Suit very funny #its not liab but ya know aus go brrr

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mlove44lh · 1 year

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Don't hurt yourself

Chapter 7 - Forgiveness

Masterlist

Previously chapter

Warnings: angst, swearing, physical violence (hahaha)

Words: 4.313

“If we're gonna heal, let it be glorious. 1,000 girls raise their arms. Do you remember being born? Are you thankful for the hips that cracked? The deep velvet of your mother and her mother and her mother? There is a curse that will be broken.”

“Y/n, please.”

I look into his eyes, and they seem to shine even from meters away. It's the calmest and most surrendered I've seen him in a long time.

I think about opening up, but I can't do it now. I need everything to go as planned tonight, even if I'm acting like a coward.

"Can you calm down and let things happen? We just had a great night after a long time, Lewis. Don't ruin this."

I don't know how I manage to finish the sentence. Lewis seems hesitant but nods slightly. I enter the bathroom before I have to hear his voice again.

The cold touch of the wooden door against my back makes me even more shivery, but I stay there, leaning for a few more seconds, still feeling him inside me.

That was my final attempt, the last approach I found that could potentially help me alleviate all of my agony and outrage.

I wanted to feel him inside me, to feel his love. I wanted him to prove to me that nothing had changed. I wanted to feel for him what I used to feel before being attacked by the person I thought was the love of my life.

Maybe if this doubt had dissipated, if I felt that nothing had changed and that I could really trust him again, then I would give up my decision and go back to him without thinking twice.

But that's not what happened.

I don't know who was with me in bed a few minutes ago, but it didn't seem like my husband.

We were stuck together, fused, sharing something as intimately as possible, yet I felt miles away from Lewis.

With every touch and every glance, the only thing that kept running through my mind was what he did to me, and what he did to her. The two of them together, just like we were a little while ago. And that made me understand that this feeling won't go away even if I wait for decades.

But at some point, I gave up trying to find something that would make me want to stay. At some point, I surrendered myself completely to him. For one last time. Without him knowing.

And honestly, I couldn't care less about how he felt about it.

I step under the running shower without waiting for the water to heat up. My warm body contrasts with the cold water, and I receive a shock that I needed.

The water runs through my body, taking away the last traces of him in me and the last traces of doubt in my mind.

Finally.

I decide to lie down next to him and postpone the feeling a little longer. I feel his body getting closer to mine, but fortunately, Lewis is satisfied with just the light contact of our arms together and doesn't go for a hug.

For some reason, I want to prolong this closeness. I want to engrave in my mind the sensation of his skin against mine, even though I am ready for a goodbye.

I stay there, motionless, waiting for any hint of regret within me for my final decision, but there is none.

I love Lewis like I never thought I would love anyone. I have lived extraordinary years by his side, and I have no regrets about anything.

Today it is finally clear that I did everything I could, and I know that I was the best wife I could be. But, even though I gave myself entirely and was the best partner, he did what he did. And, contrary to what I imagined, I am not at all to blame for it.

What Lewis did is about him and not about me. I could have done everything differently, but it would not have changed the outcome. I could not have prevented him from making such a decision.

I no longer feel guilty or inadequate. Only a great pain remains, but this time it's not accompanied by overwhelming doubts. Instead, there's relief and certainty that finally allow me to breathe.

Even if I did it behind him, I did what I had to do.

I feel exhausted, but I can't sleep for even a second. My stomach churns with anxiety over all the things going through my mind. It takes hours until I give up on trying to sleep and get up from the king-size bed.

I prepare my luggage before anything else. I know how heavy Lewis' sleep is, but even so, I do everything carefully and silently, without the slightest intention of waking him up at this moment.

I watch him sleep as I pack only the essentials into the suitcase.

I remember the day we arrived at this apartment, with the excitement and joy of starting a new life together in such a special place. The house was perfect for us, with everything we needed to build a happy home. Every corner of the apartment was filled with our essence, and the memories of the happy moments we spent here were abundant.

However, everything changed over time. Since the day I lived through the worst experience of my life here and all the things that came after, the happiness I felt in this place dissipated. Now it's hard to be in this apartment without feeling deep anguish, a suffocating sensation that takes hold of my chest. The once-welcoming house has become an oppressive environment.

Leaving here was already in our plans, but I never imagined that one day I would leave without Lewis by my side.

Carefully, I take the paperwork out of my bag and sit at the dining table, staring at the papers in my hand. Since I first got my hands on them a few days ago, I have already read every word in the document at least 200 times.

The house is completely silent. Sunlight is streaming through the large living room window, and though I know I don't have much time, I also know I can't rush what I need to do.

“Divorce Agreement”

Every time I read these words, the pain increases even more.

“Marriage is forever.” I've heard and kept these words inside me my whole life. I even spoke these words to Lewis hours before we got married.

It's a sacred contract, a serious promise that must be fulfilled by both parties until death do us part.

And we promised, we made vows, we swore before God and the state. We merged into one for eternity. And we did it with enough sobriety and happiness to believe it would be eternal.

I could never, not even for a second, imagine that all of this would end up on a white paper stained by tears and pen ink.

Despite having thought deeply and considered every aspect of my life and marriage in the last few days, even though I'm finally decided, it still hurts to the point of being almost unbearable.

I didn't want this, I didn't choose this, yet I feel like the worst part has fallen on my shoulders, not on the one who made mistakes.

I could have accepted anything except for dishonesty. That was the only thing I asked for, I didn't need anything else if I could trust my husband, but Lewis took that away from me.

And I can't spend the rest of my life with someone I don't trust anymore.

I hold the blue pen so tightly that my hand shakes.

I think of Lewis, who is peacefully asleep and doesn't expect what he'll find when he wakes up.

I should wait for him. We should talk about this like adults. I know I'm being cowardly and shouldn't act this way, but it was the only way I found to do this without getting even more hurt.

I don't know if he will sign it too, and I don't know if he will keep insisting on something that is already over, but all I want right now is to finish this as soon as possible. All I can do is do my part and hope that everything is quick and as painless as possible.

I analyze the entire document and check every detail of the agreement.

Our prenuptial agreement theoretically facilitates the division of everything and thus makes the dissolution of the marriage easier. Because of this, I feel more hopeful about this process going faster, since things become clear once we have an agreement on this since the day we got married. But I know it won't be as simple as signing a document. There is a lot at stake, especially for Lewis. This will go through every lawyer in town, there may be hearings, it could take an eternity, and just thinking about it already exhausts me.

My handwriting comes out a little different as I sign each paper of the document. Tears fall without ceremony, I don't even notice them at first. My broken heart can physically ache. I am bombarded by so many emotions that I couldn't even name them all. There is sadness, fear, pain, and anger, but there is also relief and hope. All of these things in equal measure, it's like I could explode with all the things passing through me.

But when I finish signing, it's like everything goes back to complete silence within me.

It all came to an end as I never imagined it would one day. And in the end, it's not him who receives forgiveness, it's myself.

Lewis is sleeping peacefully on his stomach, with no signs of waking up anytime soon. I sit down next to him, the lighting is low, but I can see every detail of his exposed skin. I place my hand on the middle of his back, touching the tips of my fingers carefully before placing my palm. Lewis sighs but remains unconscious.

I can't tell if I'm still crying, but the lump in my throat returns as soon as I feel him under my hand. His back rises and falls with each breath, and I spend some time analyzing every detail as if all of this wasn't already etched in my memory.

When I finally decide to leave, I place the papers on my side of the bed and leave the room, only taking my eyes off Lewis when the door closes.

I finally leave the apartment. I finally made the decision I needed to make.

The sunny weather in Milan makes me feel slightly better. The car drives through the quiet streets. Yet despite the calmness, I still feel my heart beating faster than usual.

“Do you know what you're going to do now?” Alessia breaks the silence in the car. Since I told her what I did, she hasn't said many words to me besides providing comfort. I don't think there's anything to be said at this moment that would make me think more than I already have in the past few days. I'm just happy with her presence.

“I'm going to spend the day with my best friend now. When I come back, maybe I'll rent a place to stay until everything is resolved. It's not like I want to go back to that apartment anyway.”

"Do you think he signed?”

I shrug.

“I hope so.” I look back outside the car. “Probably. Lewis knows that just me deciding to file for divorce means there's no turning back. I pushed myself to my limit for a reconciliation. Now it really has come to an end."

“And how are you feeling?”

“I'm fine. I don't think it has fully sunk in yet. I have some things to sort out before putting an end to all of this. Besides, I have to prepare myself. It may take months for everything to be resolved.”

Alessia doesn't take her gaze off me while I alternate mine between her and the streets of Milan.

We remain silent long enough to give me the impression that the conversation has ended.

“You're not going to leave Monaco, are you?” Her voice is low and she even seems a little embarrassed to ask me that.

“I haven't thought about it yet. But I don't think I can stay in Monaco. That place is microscopic, I'd see him everywhere.

"But it has become your home, our home. We dreamed of this, remember?”

I smile at her, remembering every step of when we did the craziest thing in our lives, giving up everything to live our dream in Monte Carlo. It would be really hard to disappoint my former self and leave this city behind. But I'm afraid it might be the only way to deal with all of this.

We don't take long to reach our final destination.

A large white hall without any sign on its facade is what awaits us. The glass doors show a few people walking inside. It's a simple place, an independent exhibition. Sometimes Alessia takes the hobby of finding new artists before anyone else very seriously.

She goes ahead while I stay in her shadow. I don't usually accompany her on her business trips, but any distraction is welcome right now.

“Oh. I didn't think I would find these people here. I mean, the boy is good, but God, this is surprising. Henry warned me to keep an eye on this guy.” She says as she walks around the small exhibition.

“What do you mean?!"

“Do you see that woman over there?” Alessia discreetly points to a lady at the end of the hallway. “Margaret Williams, one of the biggest art investors in the world. And let's just say she's far from being the most influential person here. For a 24-year-old boy in his second exhibition, I must say I'm impressed.”

“Well, you're here. That already means something too. You have the biggest gallery in Monaco. I'm sure this boy would kill to be there.”

“Taking into consideration the size of Monaco, that's not something so surprising.”

Alessia laughs at her own comment. I lightly tap her shoulder.

"I'll take a look around and see if I find the prodigy boy. Will you wait for me?" I nod in agreement. "I promise to finish quickly so we can enjoy Milan."

“It's okay. Take your time.”

After all, it was me who got myself involved in Alessia's work out of fear of staying at home.

I watch her walk for a few seconds before turning around and finding something to distract myself.

I would like to appreciate a work of art as I should, but I have no imagination or patience to see what everyone seems to admire. I leave this activity to Alessia.

I walk through the bright hall with no intention of lingering on anything. I stop to analyze some works, but it doesn't last long.

"Y/n. What a nice surprise!"

Hearing his voice makes my stomach turn before I even turn to him.

Matteo has a smile on his face as he looks me up and down.

Hell no. What are the chances?!

I look around him, searching for the girl, but I don't find her nearby and assume that Matteo is alone.

Too soon.

“Matteo. How are you?” I try not to let my reaction show on my face.

“I'm doing good. Yeah.”

“What brings you here?”

He puts one hand in his trouser pocket, his protruding belly making the task seem a little more difficult than it is.

"I have a house a few blocks away. We're spending a few days here. I decided to come to the exhibition. You know I like art, and this boy seems to be pretty good."

So she's here?! The possibility of running into Jordyn is enough to make me want to run away from here.

“Oh. I see” I swallow hard and look around for anything to get me out of this conversation.

“What about you? Is Lewis around here? I bet you guys are enjoying these last days of the break, hum.”

The tone in her voice disgusts me.

“Oh no, I came with a friend, but I'll be heading back to Monaco soon.”

Matteo finally seems to realize that there isn't much more to get from this conversation. We know each other, but we never exchanged many words. Everything always boiled down to Lewis. And that's not a subject that interests me at the moment.

He nods before starting to move. Matteo comes closer to me and puts his hand on my shoulder.

“If Lewis focuses a little more on what he actually needs, maybe he'll do better this year."

He says before moving away. I don't force a smile at the man. I look at him uncertainly. I don't know if Matteo knows what happened or if he said that because he's afraid of what another bad year will do to his investments.

I follow the opposite direction of Matteo. I search for Alessia with my eyes but give up calling her when I notice that she is engaged in a conversation. I climb a staircase placed at the back of the hall and come across a small terrace. I'm happy with the discovery. I can hide for some time at least.

Only a guy is standing there, the cigarette burning between his fingers.

I stand next to him and try to avoid going to him and asking for one. But I look at the Camel and feel the urge for its nicotine.

“Scusa. Puoi darmi una sigaretta?”

The guy stares at me before smiling.

He takes the pack out of his pocket and hands me one of the cigarettes, then helps me light it with his lighter.

“Grazie.”

I take a drag from the cigarette before moving away from the boy. I sit on one of the benches before reaching for my phone.

I expected to have many messages from Lewis waiting for me. But I only find one.

“Is that really what you want?”

I'm not sure how I feel about it. I don't want to see him insisting, but anyway, this single message hurts me a little

I stare at the message for some time. I scroll up our conversation screen several times, trying to find the past, trying to remember how things used to be when everything seemed easier and more beautiful.

I read some 'I love yous' and all the 'what time will you be back?' messages I sent. I go through photos from trips, baby clothes, and all the conversations we had in the early hours of the morning when we were far from each other.

How did we get here? When was the exact moment of rupture? The loss of our child? His infidelity? When do we stop caring?

They told me I should wait for the moment when my marriage would "cool off", they told me it was normal. But this is not normal. Indifference cannot exist, and it cannot be treated as something usual.

Maybe the mistakes started long before all the turbulence we went through. Maybe the mistakes started when we stopped caring. But we ignored it and got here, To the end.

I type the messages calmly as the smoke from the cigarette invades my lungs.

"I think I made that clear."

"Just talk to your lawyer."

The door slams shut, and the boy is no longer there. But another person enters the space. The last person I would like to see at the moment.

She backs up a bit when she notices me but doesn't go back, she walks a few steps closer to me.

I remain seated, still smoking as I look at her.

The daylight allows me to see the person in front of me better. I thought I would feel bad when I saw her again, but I don't feel anything.

I stand up and walk past her to the ashtray. I leave the remaining cigarette there and walk towards the door. But her voice stops me from going any further.

“You left him, didn't you?!” I turn to face her. Jordyn looks at me. “At least that would be the right thing to do.”

“Oh yeah?! And why is that?”

I step closer to her, my heels making me taller than the woman.

"He likes me, Y/n. It wouldn't make sense to continue with him after what we had.”

She seems to be serious. I don't know the girl, but I can feel that there is indeed some feeling coming from her. And that makes me laugh.

"It wasn't you who destroyed my marriage. He did to you what he would have done to anyone else. But that doesn't make me hate you any less or think of you as anything more than a cheap slut."

She seems shaken after hearing what I said.

I notice her biting her cheek before speaking again.

“It was much more than weeks, Y/n. How do you think the bracelet ended up there? I knew he wouldn't have the courage to leave you.” Jordyn takes a few steps back before continuing. “Not after what happened.”

Her comment makes me even more alert.

“He told me everything. That you can't keep his baby no matter what. That’s fucked up girl.”

My heart breaks even more with her words. I can't imagine how Lewis would be capable of doing something like that. I hope and try to believe that it's all just a lie. That she found this out in some other way that wasn't from him.

"Shut the fuck up, You don't know anything.” I whisper.

"The resentment was so huge that I really didn't understand how he went back to you every night. I gave him what he needed and in return, I received promises. Believe what you want, Y/n.”

My chest burns with anger. I turn around and try to walk away before I do something I'll regret, but she keeps talking.

"At least you stayed quiet as you should. Good thing you understand what I could do to you." She laughs. "He did tell me that you were a domesticated slut."

I only realize what I did when I feel the burning in my palm. The woman's turned face is covered by loose strands of hair. A moment of silence fills the space.

The small red dots begin to appear on her face. In just a few seconds, it's already clear that the slap will leave a mark. Her teary eye shows shock. I'm also shocked by what I did, but I can't deny that the sensation was fucking awesome.

"Go ahead. I can't wait to see what you're going to do with that."

I leave the outside area afraid of what I might continue to do if I stay here.

Jesus, I just hit a fucking child.

I quickly walk over to Matteo. My breathing is fast and I'm so nervous that I feel my whole body shaking.

When I get close enough, I hit his chest with my hand. The impact is not strong, but my hand burns even more. He looks at me scared.

“You can be many things, but naive is not one of them. You know what's going on, don't you?! You know you have a gold-digging whore as a fiancée.”

I try to contain my voice, but I'm not sure if I succeed.

He puts his hand around my wrist and holds it gently.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your little fiancée is sleeping with my husband.”

Matteo's eyes shift from mine towards the door behind me. I can hear her footsteps, but I don't move to look at her.

I keep my eyes fixed on Matteo's, who soon turns his gaze back to mine.

"What have you done, Y/n?"

"Less than she deserves, for sure." I take my hand away from his grasp. "Do whatever you want, I don't give a shit anymore.”

I move away from Matteo and leave the hall.

My only concern is if anyone besides the three of us noticed anything.

There are no more choked tears or imminent sadness, I feel like laughing just remembering the sound of my hand slapping her face.

It's like I've acquired a thick shell. I don't think I can be shocked anymore by the things I discover, nor do I think I can be hurt more by Lewis.

Maybe I'm becoming more immune to a broken heart. Or maybe I'm just fed up with suffering for someone like him.

At least I found out, the real Lewis did this to me.

Author’s note: Let me know if you liked the slap hahaha. I thought a lot about whether I should include it or not.

The next chapter will be the last one😢. I'm happy to be finishing this story, even though I've loved every comment from you guys. But I'll save the love declarations for the next chapter haha. I hope to be able to post it real soon. Thanks for the love and I hope you enjoyed it.

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