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#and express myself and maybe that’s why I talk so much because I don’t have a outlet which is probably not that healthy but it’s okay I’m
pikp0kcas3 · 1 month
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The Hazbin Hotel fandom’s issue with accepting aromanticism and asexuality
Now that it is officially Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week, I want to talk about this!
I find that, as an aroace myself, I am constantly grasping at good representation and coming up empty— it usually ends up in one of two ways.
One: the character is portrayed as emotionless, cold, and robotic in nature. It’s the question aromantic and/or asexual people are often asked: “Are you heartless?” The answer is no, of course, but general media makes it out to be the opposite.
Or two: Their lack of attraction is seen as something to “fix” because they “haven’t found the right one yet”, and they end up with a partner as a “happy ending”.
It frustrates me greatly because of how little people actually see aromanticism or asexuality as a true part of the LGBTQIA+ community.
So when I watched Hazbin Hotel, and I found out about Alastor being aroace, I was over the moon. I was on cloud nine. I also saw how his voice actor has looked up the term as an attempt to learn about aroaces, which makes me OVERJOYED?? Amir is truly a blessing, and I love that he’s proud to embody a character that’s part of our community. It’s so beautiful to finally have a proper character, a fan favorite at that, who just so happens to be aroace— and that’s another thing I love about this.
It’s never explicitly stated in the show (though it is stated in interviews), but it’s rather clear when you’re watching, isn’t it? Alastor’s aversion to any sort of sexual advancement, coupled with Rosie’s blatant “I know you’re an ace in the hole” comment sort of spell out his asexuality pretty clearly, as well as what side of the spectrum he falls upon. In addition, his Valentine’s day card was strictly platonic, which caters to his aromantic side. It feels so validating to finally be represented, to finally have a character in media who shares the same lack of interest in romance and sex as I do.
When I entered the fandom to look for more content, I kind of expected to see the same respect for Alastor’s orientation there too. But that… wasn’t the case? I am fully aware that aromanticism and asexuality are both spectrums— of course, aromantic and/or asexual people can enter those kinds of relationships. I’m not denying that and they belong in the community as much as anyone else on the spectrum.
But, the more I see the same line again and again and again, the more it feels like an excuse to just ship what you want.
Usually I don’t mind shipping? I’m often a firm believer in people shipping what they like as long as it’s harmless and they don’t go crazy over it. I also know for a fact that Viv doesn’t have a problem with people shipping her characters. They are fictional, after all.
But in this case, people are ignoring the very thing that makes Alastor a part of the aroace community! People are ignoring his lack of romantic or sexual attraction!
Is this not the same as changing a gay character’s orientation to suit a straight ship? If not, how so? I’m told that we are a part of this community, so why aren’t we being treated like it? Why is it so hard to accept the people on the end of the spectrum who aren’t interested?
Something I’ve been noticing throughout my life is that society has not exactly progressed very much on the idea of accepting asexual or aromantic identities. Maybe we have, a little, since the old days— but hell, people in “the old days”, which in truth wasn’t very long ago, believed that asexuality was a medical condition to be “fixed” by taking the right medication or having sex. That’s a pretty low bar to clear. And on the romance side, you’re seen as a “late bloomer” or “boring” if you don’t express interest. These days, being friends with someone is treated like a gateway to them possibly becoming a lover. Not getting married, not going on dates, not wanting a partner— it’s all treated like a crime when it’s not.
Maybe I’m selfish, or sensitive, or I’m butthurt over nothing, or I’m making it all about me. Maybe I’m gatekeeping or whatever the term is. But please, please, please, I just want an aroace character like me who simply is not interested in sex or romance.
And I want fandom to respect that. I admire the creations that fans make— the art, the animatics, the writing and the character analysis. And I want people to keep creating because creation is indeed a beautiful thing.
But I really would like people to treat aroace identities like they’re important. Like it’s more than just a spectrum to get wiggle room to wrangle in another ship.
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primofate · 10 months
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Confessions Series - Part 1: Overheard [Genshin Impact Male Characters]
Note: Welp I had the itch to write again so here I am. Though sleep deprived because baby keeps waking up every 3 hours to feed... I wanted to do this haha. Based on @soulprompts “I love you” prompts. What other character should I do?
Warnings: haven’t written in a while please excuse and tell me about pronoun slips, I’m sleep deprived, not proofread, some are just concepts of liking someone, having a crush on them, while some are full blown love confessions. SOME ARE ANGSTY, chose only the male characters I wanted to write for instead of forcing myself to do all of them.
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader  
Other works in this series: (Part 2 - Description)
Scenario: Talking to a friend about how you feel about him. Unbeknownst to you, he was listening, hidden round the corner. What does he do?
Aether
“He’s sweet,” You simply answer when asked what you like about Aether. “I mean, he’s a simple guy. He’s not a mystery, it’s not hard to read him nor to get along with him. I guess that’s one of the reasons why a lot of people like him.” 
“Uhuh,” your friend drawls, their head lazily resting on their hand. “but you don’t just like Aether. You seriously LIKE him,” 
You’re rendered speechless by the statement for a second, tripping over your first words, “Well--I mean--” and as if realizing you’re making a fool of yourself by speaking in garbles, you recover. “Yeah, I guess...” You don’t know why you admit to it, but it’s not like your friend didn’t already know.
What he does:
Is tempted to immediately walk up to you and reconfirm the conversation.
Stops himself for a minute and replays the whole conversation in his head, probably once, twice and maybe a third time.
Second guesses himself, but when he finally goes through all possible options, he realizes there’s no mistaking the overheard confession.
All the while, Paimon is nagging him to go talk to you. “You didn’t hear wrong! Stop thinking too much, hurry and go!” Ends up being pushed out into the open by his flying companion.
“Erm...Ahem” he coughs into his fist. “I...didn’t mean to eavesdrop...Y/N, sorry, but... can we continue this conversation somewhere else? Somewhere...a little more private?” and the shy smile he gives you is a tell tale sign that he had most likely felt the same.
Albedo
“His schedule is always busy. He has his hands full with Klee, on top of all the work he needs to do,” was your excuse to your friend when asked why you haven’t confessed to the alchemist yet. “I don’t think Albedo has time for this type of thing, you know? He doesn’t need a distraction.”
What he does:
His logical side agrees that he doesn’t need a distraction.
But the other part of him doesn’t mind if its you.
Pauses for a moment, thinks about it for a second, before confronting you about it just minutes later.
“...Schedules can be made flexible, Y/N,” you jump at his sudden voice. “Just as distractions...can sometimes be a good thing,” Albedo stretches a hand out to you. “...Care to test how good of one you can be to me?” 
Alhaitham
“Y/N, Alhaitham is FAR from stupid. There’s no way he hasn’t figured out that you have a crush on him,”
“Shush!!” You swerve around to your friend, ducking a little, as if that would help you become invisible. “People could be listening, besides, if that’s true, then it’s even worse. It means that he knows, and probably has no interest in me, so let’s just forget about it, ok?” 
What he does:
..................................No he doesn’t know. Sure he’s smart but............he could be dense when it came to these things. That, or he just didn’t know what to do.
Does not confront you about it immediately. In fact he turns around and walks away without being spotted, opting to think about his next steps instead of just rushing into the conversation.
Lo and behold a few days later he’ll show up in front of you with his usual stoic expression.
“Y/N,” he starts, and you freeze on the spot, looking up at him, blinking. 
“Y-Yes?” You haven’t seen nor heard from him in days and as usual, you attributed it to him being busy. Little did you know that he had been mulling over how to talk to you.
“I heard your conversation with (your friend) the other day,” straightforward was his answer to everything, even in this particular situation. 
It takes you a few seconds to internalize his words. You’re not even sure which conversation he means. You talk to (your friend) a lot. Your brows start to furrow in confusion, until he clarifies. 
“...I wouldn’t say that I completely have no interest in you,” he starts, and your shoulders tense up, now realizing which conversation it was. You could feel your cheeks start to burn, all you wanted to do was run away. 
Alhaitham holds back a sigh, “...Anyway, here is no place to talk about this... I’ll meet you at Puspa Cafe tonight, if you’re free,” 
You’re FAR from stupid too, and knew exactly what he was trying to do.
Ayato
“Besides why would the Lord Commissioner even look at someone like me?” you hiss at your friend who was trying to persuade you that Ayato also had the hots for you. It just seemed a little delusional to you.
“He takes the chance to rile you up every time he sees you. He’s obviously doing it on purpose,” your friend counters. You roll your eyes up to high heaven.
“He does that to everyone...” you conclude, knowing that Ayato had the habit of--though you don’t know if intentionally--giving his servants a scare. 
“Alright, alright, you don’t have to be so jealous,” your friend quips back, you send them a quick glare before going back to doing your own work.
What he does:
Doesn’t even bat an eye. Smirks as he hears the whole story. 
Confidently reveals his presence to the two of you, chuckling.
“Jealousy doesn’t usually paint a beautiful colour,” he starts, the overly pleasant smile on his face. You straighten up immediately, eyes changing into saucers when you realize he had heard the whole thing. You open your mouth to explain, but he beats you to it.
“But I must say it looks a little different on you, Y/N, almost charming,” The side of his lip quirks up the slightest bit into a subtle grin. You bite your lip, there he is again trying to rile you up, maybe (your friend) was right. 
“...Is there anything I can do for you Lord Commissioner?” you ask, trying to stray away from the subject. He only chuckles. 
“You’ll find that there are a LOT of things you can do for me, Y/N. Start by accompanying me to tea, hm?” He wasn’t really asking, it was almost a command. 
You wished your friend snickering on the side would just shut up.
Cyno
“...He’s a little intimidating don’t you think? I don’t know why you like him so much,” your friend comments, slacking off on their pile of paperwork. You roll your eyes at them. 
“Maybe because he works hard, unlike other people,” you shake your head a little. 
“As General Mahamatra he’s supposed to work hard. Just admit that you have weird tastes.” your friend counters, still procrastinating on their share of work.
“Okay, so what if he’s a little vicious in his ways? He’s just doing his job. Now, it would help me if you started doing yours as well,” 
What he does:
Doesn’t know what to do.
Stands hidden for quite a long time. The subject has already moved on and away from him.
Torn between revealing himself now or later. 
Can’t think properly so exits from the situation and comes back later that same day, when you’re still working with your friend.
As he approaches your table, your friend notices him first. (Your friend) nudges you with their elbow, tilting their chin up to let you know that someone was approaching. 
You pick your head up, and feel yourself go rigid when you see that it’s Cyno. At first you think to yourself that he might not be here to talk to you, maybe he’s just about to walk by...but he stops in front of your table and you’re left to wordlessly look up at him.
There’s a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever.
“...I value the high praise that you give me,” he starts and you immediately want to duck under the table and hide.
He heard. 
“O-Oh, G-General Mahamatra, you heard that...It’s...nothing, hard work deserves to be praised...” you avert your gaze down to the papers you were working on, pretending to continue and be busy with them. 
There was an awkward pause, your eyes darting up towards him for a second, checking if he was still looking at you, before breaking away again and furiously flipping through papers.
“...Do you want to play some TCG?” 
“Huh?” You end up with an incredulous look on your face, trying to gauge if he was serious. His face is still blank, but the usual tenseness in the way he carried himself gave way for a barely seen relaxation. It was hard to spot, but it was there. 
You ended up sighing a little in what you could only describe as relief, giving him a lopsided smile. “Sure, but go easy on me, I haven’t played in a while,”
“That’s fine. Perhaps a daily practice session will do you good,”
Dainsleif
“Mysterious, aloof, disappears into thin air... A man like that? You probably should stay away, Y/N. You don’t know what he dabbles in,” (Your friend) warns, looking at you with genuine concern. 
“Perhaps he has some secrets...but I don’t think he’s a bad guy at all. I’ve spent some time conversing with Dainsleif here and there,” you continue to wipe the tables, not noticing that the man you were talking about had long entered the tavern already and was now standing behind the two of you.
“At least he’s handsome, there’s that,” (Your friend) adds. 
“Sure, but that’s not the only reason I like him,” you laugh.
What he does:
Wonders if he heard the conversation right and overanalyzes what you mean by “like” him.
Either way it stirs a strange emotion in him, one that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
Prefers to get things over with and thinks there’s no harm in confronting you immediately.
You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Thinking that it was a customer you turn around with a pleasant smile, only for it to slowly dwindle down into a shocked expression.
Dainsleif.
“Y/N,” he nods his head towards you casually. You gulp, force a smile, and nod back. “Hi, you’re early today,” just as your friend slips away from the conversation. Dainsleif doesn’t even spare them a glance.
He doesn’t have much to say about your comment of him being early. He doesn’t particularly know why he was early today either. Perhaps...fate would have him hear the conversation between you and (Your friend).
“Yes, well, it looks like there were benefits to being early today,” he meets you eye to eye, the intensity in his gaze almost makes you blush from your neck all the way up to the top of your head, but you fought the giddiness back. 
“...What can I get you?” there’s a shiver that threatens to run up your spine, wondering if your deflection was successful. Dainsleif closes his eyes momentarily, before opening them with a strange sense of courage. 
“Your company,”
Diluc
“It’s been years,” (Your friend) says, the two of you looking up at the massive oak tree of Windrise. They glance at you from the side of their eye before continuing. “Are you still in love with Diluc?”
There’s a breeze that passes, almost melancholic, and partly whispered of sorrow. “...I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.” You pick your hand up to rub at your arm. “Jean, Kaeya, Diluc and I...So many things have changed since we were kids...but I don’t think that spot for Diluc will ever go away,”
“Does he know, at least?” (Your friend) asks and you half scoff. 
“I’m not sure, I get the feeling he does, but doesn’t act on it. Which is why...maybe the only way to solve this emptiness is to leave Mondstadt altogether.” 
“Out of sight, out of mind huh?” (Your friend) claps your back, and turns around to start walking away with you.
What he does:
Internally a mess of emotions. Doesn’t know where to start. 
but he’s just standing there and he’s stuck watching (your friend) and you turn around to come face to face with him. 
He looks at you, a wave of memories and emotions flashing through his mind all at once, it almost overwhelms him. 
“D-Diluc,” you stutter, heart freezing in your chest. You see him take a steadying breath in, prying his gaze away from you and over to (Your friend).
“(Your friend), could you give us a minute?” he asks. (Your friend) obliges, passing you a quick glance before going ahead on their own. Another breeze runs by, ruffling his long red hair. 
“...I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” you start, and yet he doesn’t say anything, prompting you to continue talking. “...You don’t have to think about it too much, it’s just silly--”
“I wasn’t sure,” he cuts you off, eyes drawn to the ground now. “I wasn’t sure...if you really felt that way.” 
The statement somehow exasperates you. “You weren’t sure? All those times I stayed by your side when everyone else left--” then it hits you. “Or were you scared, Diluc?”
The quick grimace in his expression tells you the answer. His reply comes a few seconds later, “I was, I still am,” but he picks his head up, and finally looks you straight in the eye. “...but this time...” his fists clench on his side. “This time give me the chance to show you how much I really care about you,”
He was not going to lose you too.
Itto
“Seriously?! Itto? Arataki Itto? Are you for real?” (Your friend) announces to nearly half of the food stall, the other customers swerving around to look at the two of you. 
"Oh, say it a bit louder why don’t you?” You roll your eyes at your friend and continue eating.”
“Sorry. I just--Out of all the people you could choose, your huge crush is on that big brute??” your can tell by the look on your friend’s face that they think you have weird tastes.
What he does:
Butts in without even thinking of the conversation. Has no clue what’s going on.
“Crush?!”
You and your friend startle, swerving around to see none other than the oni with his hands on his hips. “Y/N?! You planning on crushing me?!” then he guffaws with laughter, slapping his knees in the process. “Yeah right, you’re no match for me!”
Your previously gaped open mouth slowly closes and your shoulders relax, sighing. You’re a little disappointed he doesn’t get it at all. Your friend shakes their head with a long sigh. “You stupid oaf, we don’t mean it that way...” 
Itto’s head tilts sideways, a genuinely confused look on his face. “No? Then... Watcha all talkin about?” 
You grab your friend’s arm and pull them forward the slightest bit. “It’s not important! Actually, we better get going--”
“Y/N has a CRUSH on you, idiot! Y/N LIKES you!” Your friend explodes, patience long gone. 
Itto blinks at the confession, his eyes darts towards you, “...Oh,” then there’s the slight tugging at his chest, he can’t help but beam and smile silly. “Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself Y/N! I like you too!”
You’re not sure if he really understood the confession in its entirety. 
Kaeya
“It’s all just fun and games with Kaeya. It doesn’t mean anything,” you laugh sheepishly, yet you rub the back of your neck a little.
“...Do you want it to be just fun and games?” your friend chides, and there’s a moment of silence. The two of you just sitting there already knowing the answer, it’s almost uncomfortable, until your friend sighs. 
“...Let’s change the subject,” 
What he does: 
responds immediately. Will not wait a second longer to come out of his hiding place and ask about what he just heard.
“How about let’s not?” Kaeya emerges out of nowhere, slipping into the seat next to you at the cafe. His poise is confident and instantly his head lazily places itself into the palm of his hand, gaze lingering at you. 
“Snowflake, I had no idea you felt like that,” his voice is smooth like ice and you bite your lip to keep yourself from saying something stupid.
“...I didn’t say anything though?” you countered, trying to evade the conversation. Your friend watches on with interest. 
“Silence speaks volumes, Y/N,” Kaeya scoots even closer to you, your shoulders touching each other. However, he maneuvers his arm around to lay on the seat behind you. “So if you’re opposed to what I’m about to do, better speak up,”
He leans closer, inch by inch, he waits for you to say something.
You stay silent.
He grins.
Scaramouche
“Hat guy? He’s brutal. But who am I to comment on your tastes, Y/N. You’ve always been weird,” (Your friend) chides, watching as you go over the bookshelf again. 
“Stop calling him that,” You murmur under your breath, more focused on finding the right book for your research. “That’s not his only distinctive feature, you know,” you continue, still engrossed in looking for a book.
“Oh? What else are his “distinctive features”?” (Your friend) drawls, rolling their eyes. 
You hum a little, then plop on the ground cross-legged, wanting to get a better look on the last row of books of the Akademiya’s library. “...His eyes,” you simply answer. “They’re a beautiful shade of violet-blue...He’s always glaring at someone half of the time but he actually has very pretty eyes,” 
There’s silence and you finally get the peace you need to concentrate. However, that silence is broken by a voice that you know all too well.
What he does:
is amused.
thinks its cute pathetic.
will still look angry but will have a hard time actually being angry.
will be cocky.
“My eyes, huh?”
It’s hard to completely turn around in your sitting position, so you do the best you can to turn, side eye landing on Scaramouche’s form. He has his arms crossed as usual, but there’s a smug smirk on his face. “Didn’t know it was that fascinating to you, bookeater,”
It was supposed to be an insulting nickname for you, who always had your nose in a book, but you took no offense to it at all.
You didn’t know what to say, so you continued staring at him. He being the anti-social person that he was, just stared back. There was a big gap of silence before he felt that it was becoming too awkward. 
“...What’re you looking for?” he blurted out.
“...A book...”
“Are you stupid? Of course you’re looking for a book. I meant what’s the title?” There his usual sneer was back again and he unfolded his arms to look at you unimpressively. 
“...A History of Inazuma: Volume 2...” you meekly replied, slowly realizing that he actually heard you praising him.
“You’re in the wrong section,” the exasperated sigh he gives out causes you to wince, and you turn away back to the bookshelf as if to shield you from all this embarrassment. 
“If it’s about Inazuma, you should just be asking me,” you blink as your peripheral catches sight of an outstretched hand. You tilt your head to see that he’s offering his hand, but his face is blank.
“...Well? Come on. I don’t have all day,”
You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling, something about the way he said it sounds threatening, but also slightly playful. But that’s just the way he was. 
You accept his hand, and he pulls you up easily.
Xiao
“Oh so that’s why you’re coming over more frequently...” (Your friend) grins, and you wave your hands around to tell them to quiet down. Adepti had good hearing after all.
“Well, I’m also coming over cause Verr Goldet needs more help these days in the kitchen. You guys are getting so much customers these days that Yanxiao has a hard time by himself,”
“Uhhuuhhhhhh, sure...was it also Verr Goldet who told you to try and master the Almond Tofu recipe from Yanxiao? Cause you’re awfully hell bent on trying to learn that recipe, according to Yanxiao,” 
You fall silent, feeling heat crawling up your neck. “I--” You start, searching for an excuse, but realized there was no escaping this one. “I just want to do something nice for Xiao, that’s all,” you innocently quip. “I...I know I can’t help him much, but maybe just cooking his favourite dish will help, even a little,”
(Your friend) smiles a little, knowing that the adepti probably heard everything. “That’s nice of you, Y/N. You must care about him a lot,” 
What he does:
once upon a time he would do absolutely nothing. because getting involved with humans is something he shouldn’t do.
But now he bides his time, and observes if it’s safe to open up. 
He wouldn’t outright thank you at first, but he’ll slowly show up in front of you a little more everyday.
He’s rather awkward, so at first he only nods his head as thanks when you leave the bowl of almond tofu on the ledge.
Eventually when he realizes you’re not going to stop cooking for him he goes the extra mile to do something simple for you too.
He places a stalk of your favourite flower on the ledge, right before you come to put down his bowl of almond tofu. 
I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Check it out here:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BVD1VVFP
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luveline · 1 month
Note
You said you might need ideas for stripper reader! And Spencer and well….
Post Prison Spencer coming home and just being so afraid to touch reader (what if he hurts her?), to take his shirt off in front of reader (the scars - the bruises that didn’t fade, the lost weight) and afraid to tell you about the drugs/what happened because what if you leave and stripper!reader just being like “I love you”, ya know?
No worries if you aren’t interested in this though!!! Love all your works 💕
thank you for your request angel!
—Spencer’s reluctant to touch you in the week he’s released from prison, and you just wanna know why. stripper!reader, 1k
“I don’t like when you stretch like that.” 
“Too provocative?” you ask in a murmur.
“Too painful looking. Does it hurt?” 
You lay on your back with your legs underneath you, having initially been kneeling, but now lowered with your shoulders touching hardwood. It used to hurt more, but dancing requires limberness. Though you aren’t sure you’ll be dancing much longer. 
You hold your hands out for him to help you up. Cruel, he ignores you, sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee curled in his nice hands. “That’s not nice,” you say. 
“Sorry.” He crosses his legs. “I just don’t want you to pull something.” 
“This is so I don’t pull something.” 
“You’re not dancing tonight,” he says. Not demanding, just stating a fact. You haven’t been to the club once in the week since Spencer came home, and you’ve no plans yet to return. 
“I’m going to give you a lap dance.”
Spencer laughs. You’ve known one another a long time now and you’ve never given him one. He’s never asked, and you’ve never wanted to. There’s not much fun in it, maybe, because it’s work, and you associate it with needing things, and selfish hands. 
You get up, holding his gaze as you stand in front of him. He thinks you don’t notice, but Spencer Reid is reluctant to touch you lately and it’s breaking your heart, so you aren’t going to give him a lap dance, but you do need to get close to him. 
“Can I sit in your lap?” you ask quietly. 
Spencer might not want to touch you of his own volition, but he’s yet to deny you something you want. He holds out an arm, his hand a beckoning as you climb into his lap, or over if. You put one knee on one side of him and one knee the other, thighs spread, careful not to press on anything too soft. His lips turn up into a frantic smile. It’s sort of funny, the panic you’d see on men who clearly aren’t used to being touched, but it has a strange thread to it that unnerves you. He’s your boyfriend. He’s very in love with you, he talks of marriage often, he’s begged you to move in. Why is he reluctant to be near you now? 
“Have you changed your mind?” you ask. 
Even as you do his hand is settling on your hip like he can’t help himself. He sounds guilty as he asks, “About what?” 
“‘Bout me.” 
“I could never change my mind about you, I wouldn’t want to,” he says. 
His eyes feel huge when he’s looking at you like this, brown and dark pupil mixed together, expression finally cleared of shame and replaced with a tenderness you’d never seen aimed at you until you met him. You pull one of his curls between your fingers. It isn’t enough. You bury your hand in his hair and hold it out of his face, in love and allowed to be. You can’t believe you had to go almost three whole months without him. 
“Why do you think I did?” he asks. 
“Come on, you know why. You’re acting like you’ve developed a sudden allergy to me.” 
“No,” he says, leaning into your touch. “Is that what’s happening?” 
“Is it… me? Like, I don’t know. Did you have a prison girlfriend?” 
“It’s not like that,” he says with a little laugh, pulling you closer in his lap. Your back arches under his hand, your faces inching closer. 
“It feels like it is, though, Spence. You were gone for so long and you’re acting like you didn’t miss me, and maybe I’m full of myself but I know you did so it has to be something else.” You give his cheek a squeeze, his lips pouting. 
You’d kiss him, usually. 
“I just don’t wanna hurt you,” he says, eyes on your nose. “Again. I don’t think I have it in me.” 
“No, you don’t, and you’ve never hurt me before.” 
He smiles and closes his eyes. “Just left you all by yourself for months while I was on vacation…” 
You’re not quite laughing as you lean down for a small, careful kiss. “That wasn’t your fault,” you say against his lips. 
“I made stupid decisions.” 
“I make them all the time.” 
You kiss him again. He’s relaxing now, you wouldn’t kiss him otherwise, though you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with you like this. “You’re not that out of practice, are you?” you ask, letting your lips follow a trail of their own volition up his cheek. He’s fun to kiss, soft, though not as soft as he was, and your chapstick leaves little kiss prints all over his pale cheek. 
“Spencer, you know I love you? Like, I really love you.” 
“I know.” 
“And nothing you do, nothing that happens to you, could make me stop.” You lift his face by the cheek. “Right?” 
He bats your hand away from his cheek and takes your face into his palms, as if to say, Stop it, I get it. He looks good like this with his scrub of stubble and a bit of confidence about him. “I don’t know what I did to get so lucky with you,” he says, pulling you in, squishing his nose to yours. 
You cover his wrists with your hands and close your eyes. 
He saved you a bunch of times. “You have a very selective memory when you want it to be,” you say gently. “But you can tell me anything. Everything that happened, I want to know. Please, Spence.” Stop carrying it around by yourself.
He nods his head, you can feel it against your nose, his breath on your lips as he says, “Don’t say please.”
“Okay.” You grin. “Is that the only rule?” 
His hand sneaks around to the back of your neck. “Stay where you are,” he murmurs, his lips dragging down to yours. 
You melt in his arms. 
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undiscovered-horizon · 5 months
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"Everywhere is good but home is..." - Mihawk x Reader
@thetempleofthemasaigoddess wondered why Mihawk doesn't quite get along with his mother-in-law and who am I to keep such secrets to myself?
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SUMMARY: Mihawk is not exactly fond of his in-laws. Nevertheless, he compliantly tags along whenever you pay your parents a visit. If it makes you happy, he's willing to bite his tongue. For a day, at least.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.6k
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Imagine, if you will, an angry boar. A large, stout boar with birse as dark as the night sky. As boars do, it will gore with its tusks to let out the frustration and get rid of whatever it was that made the animal seethe. Now, if you take away its tusks, what can it do? Angrily dig for truffles? 
Or maybe stand beside you, a scowl on his face and a begrudging “I am fine” every time you ask about the bitter expression?
Mihawk doesn’t like visiting your parents. It’s the sickeningly sweet familial atmosphere that suffocates him. Don’t misunderstand - he’s fond of the thought of having a family with you but the aura of your childhood home is a little too… overwhelming for him. A little too picture-perfect. But being the man he is, Mihawk has never outright talked about his dislike because he’s aware of how much that would hurt you. Still, you know your husband a little too well to disregard his sighs and frowns. This piece of secret knowledge always makes you love him more - he’s willing to suffer for a day or two just to make you happy. If it’s not love, what else could it be?
The farmhouse looks different than it did last year when you visited: the roof tiles have been changed, the outside of the building has been repainted and even some of the fence surrounding the land is new. Clearly, your parents have been busy with their retirement.
Despite the irate expression on his face, Mihawk silently overtakes you and opens the shabby wicket gate to let you enter first. He gives you a questioning look when you suddenly stop.
“It’s going to be fine, Mihawk,” you reassure him.
“So you’ve been saying, darling.”
Comforting warmth spreads inside his chest as you smile at him and kiss his cheek. He turns his head, hoping to catch your lips but you’re already on your way to the older man raking leaves in the distance. Mihawk clenches his jaw and lets out an exasperated sigh. With a loud bang, he closes the gate behind him. He follows you in slow steps, naively putting off the fateful moment of meeting your family.
Walking down the path leading to the farmhouse and the fields behind it, Mihawk looks around the desolate landscape. It’s quaint, he thinks to himself. Tall trees sway on the chilly, autumn wind. Right above their peaks, although far away, are mountains with their tops covered in snow. Uncut grass brushes against his clothes. A flock of cranes flies high in the sky, disappearing and reappearing as they fly through grey clouds. Their key is directed south, towards warmth that will shield them from winter snow. The area is a bit too colourful and bright for his liking but with a nice “please” from you, Mihawk could see himself settling down in a place like this.
Dracule just comes into earshot and has the displeasure of hearing your father yelling:
“Pumpkin!” The older man’s voice is filled with excitement. He lets go of the rake, letting it fall on the ground. Despite his age and clear exhaustion from the work, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you almost to death. “Honey, come out!” he shouts towards the farmhouse. “It’s Pumpkin!”
Mihawk almost can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. You’re a grown woman, married at that, and they still call you by a nickname they had come up with while you were still in diapers. ‘When I asked where children came from, they told me that they found me between pumpkins in their field,’ you once explained to him.
The door to the building flies open. Soon enough, your mother is running to you. Her greying hair is braided into a plait. She’s wearing an apron with traditional patterns hand-stitched into it. Half of the motif had been done by a skilled hand, stitched with precision and perfection. The other part, however, is a lot more crooked and amateurish, probably done by a child’s hand. Your hand.
Tears glisten in your mother's eyes. Despite her older age, there’s vigour and youth inside those irises - a certain love for life that you’ve taken after her. She quickly wipes her hands on the apron and hugs you.
“Oh, Pumpkin!” A stray tear leaves her eye. “I haven’t seen you in ages! You could have said you’re visiting.”
“You’ve always loved surprises, mum.”
She lets go of you and redirects her attention to Mihawk. Her face lights up as though he’s her own son, beaming with love and pride. To his absolute horror, your mother puts her hands on the sides of his face. He almost pulls away to avoid the unwanted affections.
“Sweetie, you look handsome as ever!” she exclaims. Her expression falls as she looks him up and down. “But you’re a bit thin, aren’t you? And that open shirt, tsk. Winter is coming, sweetheart, you’ll catch pneumonia if you don’t cover up.”
“Delighted to see you again, ma���am,” Mihawk lies through his teeth. To some degree, you’re impressed with how honest he sounds.
"Oh, sweetheart, I told you to just call me mum!” She laughs. “We're family now."
You can see the relief in Mihawk’s eyes as your mother lets go of him. Some part of you wants to burst with laughter as you recall countless moments when you’re the one cradling his face and Dracule is more than overjoyed with the tender touch. It feels like there’s something beyond special about you, that he welcomes such intimate things. Although, truth be told, when it’s your hands on his face, you usually lean in to kiss him and that’s definitely not something he wants to think about while standing in front of your mother.
“He’s a grown man, honey.” Your father nags at his wife. He waves his hand in a dismissing manner. “Leave him be.” Mihawk’s terror returns when a heavy hand reaches for his shoulder. “Come, son, you’ll chop some wood for the night. I’m too old for this. The last time I tried chopping firewood, I got sciatica.”
“Pleased to help,” Dracule drones his words. He gives you a glance like a silent plead ‘Look what I do for you’. Then, he follows your father further into the garden.
You feel your mother put her arm around your shoulder. “Boys are off to have fun and we have a dinner to make.”
Something inside you stirs with excitement - cooking and baking used to be your bonding activities with your mum. Since you’ve married Mihawk, you’re not allowed to do any housework. Everything is taken care of by servants. You find that you’ve grown to miss the rhythm of mundane life, although it would be a lie if you said that you dislike the life you have with Mihawk. It’s just… different.
The sound of pots, pans and knives hitting the cutting boards is like a symphony to your ears. An aria to your childhood. If you closed your eyes, you could almost see the world as it used to be, your eyes right below the level of the countertops, always standing on a stool to help your mother.
But the thoughts of your younger years dissipate as you stare out of the kitchen window. You have the perfect view of your husband chopping firewood with your father raking leaves in the back. Mihawk’s skin glistens in the afternoon, autumn sun. There’s not a bead of sweat on his torso. He appears completely relaxed as he swings the axe with one hand. Some logs are already cracked or particularly dry and those he rips apart with his bare hands. Those same hands that tear pieces of wood into matches have caressed your skin with almost fearful softness; the arms that bring destruction have tirelessly shielded you from the dangers of the world. 
Your dad looks over his shoulder at the pile of firewood with a nod of awe. If Mihawk keeps up his tempo, he’ll prepare enough fuel for the next week.
“You remind me of your dad and me when we were younger.” Your mother’s face shakes you awake from your thoughts. Suddenly remembering that you were supposed to be helping her, you look down at the awfully chopped carrots. At least you didn’t cut off your finger. “Always stealing glances as though we weren’t already married.”
A sigh of yearning leaves your lips. What did you do in your past life to deserve a man like him?
“Dad still looks at you in an uncomfortably intense way,” you answer, a smile on your lips.
Your mother’s laughter brightens up the small, crowded kitchen. It’s not hard to correctly guess what your dad saw in her that made him want to spend his life with that woman. “He does the same when you’re not looking,” she says while vaguely pointing at Mihawk.
Her words make you blush. A deep shade of red covers your cheeks, making your whole face hot to the touch. “What do you mean?”
She looks at you with sympathy. “I saw it the day you introduced him to us. And each time you come over, he seems to be a little worse in his affliction, staring at you like you’re the one who hung stars in the sky. It made your grandma remind her of grandad so much, that she cried at your wedding.”
Listening to her, your longing gaze returns to Mihawk who appears oblivious to your undivided interest in him. “Mum, does it ever get boring?” you ask without looking away. “The sense of calm when you’re around him. Like everything could be ruined but it’s fine because he’s there.”
“It’s the only thing in the world that never gets tiring.” A flustered, juvenile smile decorates her face. Even with wrinkles and greying hair, she looks barely older than you at the moment, reliving the flame of love inside her that has never dwindled. “Now, let’s finish with the sentiments and stuff the duck, eh?”
Mihawk is reaching for another log when something makes him momentarily freeze. There, in front of the stump he’s been chopping wood on, sits a dog. It’s clearly a mutt, each feature taken from a different breed. The fur is an amalgamation of markings in different colours: orange, grey, white and black. As the dog notices Mihawk’s interest, it gets up, restlessly stomping in place or rather hopping as the pet is missing one of its hind legs.
“Gulliver,” Dracule recalls the name of the mutt you’ve told him so much about. Your first and only friend growing up in the countryside.
The name is taken as an invite and so the dog places a drool-covered, chewed-out ball next to the piece of firewood. The pet sits again, tail wagging as fast as it can.
For a moment, Mihawk is torn. He wants the dog to leave him be but that would mean he has to put his hand on the slimy toy. Then again, the pet is sure to continue disturbing him now that he has acknowledged its existence.
Cringing at the wet and warm sensation of the ball, Dracule picks it up, only furthering Gulliver’s excitement.
"This means nothing," he drones his words and throws the toy so far it almost disappears from sight. The dog, overjoyed, runs after the ball. 
Considering that your dad’s throw has gotten weaker with age, Mihawk might have dug his own grave with the distance he made the ball fly. Gulliver will probably want another run. Or ten.
For a moment, Mihawk goes back to the fantasy of settling down with you in a mountainous wonderland. Maybe you could have a dog too? Not a mutt but a hunting hound? They look very noble.
But he shakes those thoughts away and continues chopping wood.
The dinner went well. Homemade food, family you haven’t seen in a year, the cosy and sentimental atmosphere of your childhood home… And Mihawk didn’t look as miserable as he probably felt. Although you’re enjoying this little family reunion, you seize the opportunity for solitude when it arises:
Your parents go to the kitchen to put away the dirty dishes, plate the dessert and brew some tea. Tugging on Mihawk’s arm, you pull him outside the house.
The old flooring of the porch creaks under your weight. A bright, melodic tune is carried by the wind as it brushes against the chimes hanging under the roof. The sun has recently set and the sky is still in a lovely, indigo shade. Birds croak in the distance, announcing nightfall.
His warm hand rests on your lower back. The touch makes you momentarily take a deep, relaxing breath. Your thoughts become both orderly and fuzzy as though Mihawk’s presence turned all of your wandering, useless ideas into static you can easily ignore. How can a person have so much control over you? 
Mihawk is towering over you. He tilts his head downwards to look at you. Something about his looming aura makes you feel not only protected but also well-cared-for, as though you could give yourself up to him completely and you’d still live like a queen in a castle.
“If you keep frowning, your face will stay like that,” you say to him.
Mihawk’s expression relaxes at the mere mention of his visibly bitter mood. Or maybe it softens because he’s looking at you. “I was under the impression that you’re rather fond of my face.”
“And you’d be correct. But I do have to say that seeing you tear wood apart was much better.”
You lean closer to him as you put your arms around his neck. He welcomes the gesture, allowing his hands to travel an inch or two downwards, a little too low for when one is in the vicinity of others. Especially someone’s parents.
“So my wife likes to see me do manual labour,” he states, his warm breath brushing against your cold cheeks. There’s no surprise in his voice and there shouldn’t be. He’s noticed the way you look at him when he wields a sword and Mihawk would be an awful liar if he said he doesn’t enjoy those glances.
“I like seeing you, full stop. Chopping wood is just a nice variation to the scenario. Strong arms and all that.”
The said arms pull you by your hips into a kiss. Although he’s spent only a day in this part of the region, he already smells like fresh mountain air and pine needles. Mihawk groans, feeling the curves of your body against his. He will never get enough of this. Enough of you.
“Tea is served!”
Your mother’s exclamation makes you pull away from Mihawk. He instinctively chases after your lips before letting out an annoyed sigh. A chuckle rumbles in your chest. Dracule rolls his eyes but lets you thread your fingers with his and pull him back inside the farmhouse. There, you interrupt an interesting conversation:
“Darling, when’s the cake tasting again?” your father asks while flipping through the calendar, a pencil in his hand.
“On the 25th, honey,” she answers. The dining room is immediately filled with the aroma of bergamot as your mother pours the tea. “At 6 in the afternoon.”
“Cake tasting?” you repeat in confusion. “What’s going on?”
“Our golden wedding, of course!” the older woman beams with joy. “We’ve yet to send out the invitations, though, so don’t tell anyone. Especially your aunt. Gods know she runs her mouth like it’s a marathon.”
As though you’re thinking the same thing, Mihawk and you glance at each other. The miserable, irate expression in his eyes elicits a burst of bright laughter from you. He just can’t catch a break, can he?
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gangplanksorenji · 2 months
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Kinknuary Day 14: Hate Sex
Pairing: IVE Gaeul x Male Reader
Word Count: 4,294
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
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Acquaintances, not even a dent but it’ll be hard to deal with but when you’re close with someone, you’re damn sure it won’t be ephemeral and will hold a grudge against you and that’s the last thing you want to see with someone you’re deeply close with.
Yet you eat your words and face that greatest fear of yours, on the verge of breaking apart and cutting connections yet you won’t let that happen even though everything’s falling apart, slowly…
“Gaeul—let me explain—”
“I fucking heard enough—get out of my place or I’ll do it myself!!” Gaeul’s grits her teeth as her words are laced with venom, aiming to faze you out yet it didn’t bother you to fight and to try and enlighten her with the right reasons and brush off the infuriating side that she involved herself into.
“Gaeul, please—it wasn’t much of a thing—we weren’t even close enough and it’s just a friendly approach—” 
“Yeah I know, dumbass—it’s just a friendly approach but it’s not that what makes me furious…” Gaeul clicks her tongue, faces you as she drops her bag onto the floor, giving you a cold stare that sends shivers down your spine and then inching closer towards you with her intimidating glare still painted on her face. “It’s the fact that you kept ignoring me all the time until t-this moment—why?”
You can see Gaeul getting melancholic as the emotions inside her are finally rising up within her veins, making her shed a tear because of all of the grudgeful events that have been happening until this day.
You weren’t ignoring her completely and you never did—it was just her sensitive and manipulative personality that you made yourself to distance away from her but not completely and it’s also the fact that you’ve been showing an interest to a girl that you’ve been captivated right from the start you met her and wanted a better connection but of course, Gaeul will make a hindrance because of her intense anger and jealousy over you. You love Gaeul, but in a way that’s maybe unorthodox and platonic for others but you didn’t care—you love her and you love the relationship you have with her for years, even though it’s not going over the limit but sometimes, she’s just being over the limit and you’re not liking it.
“Gaeul—just please, it’s not about that fact—”
“Then what?” Gaeul inches closer towards you, her eyes are now gleaming with her own tears due to the weightful emotions she’s experiencing, as it streaks down her cheeks and makes her makeup start to become a ruined mess. 
Your heart drops with her current gloomy state as you can feel the sincere sorrow in each of her words. In each word she expresses, it makes up for the poignant feelings she felt because of you and it’s breaking you slowly. You never wanted her to be like this, but here you are, locked with frustration and regret and there’s nowhere you can do to escape—technically, you can but you don’t want it to provoke her further and let this be the day to end your friendship with her.
You’d be with her until the end of time and you’ll let her know that yet this will be a challenge and you’re willing to endure and take it over.
“It’s about the fact of—” Silence ensues as she interrupts your further attempts of explanations as she latches her lips onto yours immediately and instantly, you became intoxicated with her scent that you fell under her spell, further reciprocating the kiss as she grips onto your collar tightly to further deepen the torrid kiss that she initiated. As much as you want to pull out and talk about the situation better, you can’t help but further need the taste of her luscious lips as your hands roamed around her back and played with her hair which tightens her grip onto your collar even more. Not so long after, the kiss came up to a close as she pushed you harshly and then glaring at you, starting daggers towards your heart.
“You know how much I hate you whenever you kiss me, right?”
“It w-wasn’t even—”
Gaeul chides you as she can sense the uneasiness in your eyes, and she took that as an opportunity to let you feel her wrath. Now pinned against the wall and frozen on the spot, Gaeul half-squinted her eyes as her voice tends to curse you and its tone is evidently made to faze you and all you can see is her small figure falling down on her knees, and gripping harshly onto the hem of your pants.
“Gaeul, c-can we just talk about this—”
“Shut the fuck up and just lean down on the wall.” Gaeul’s hands finds its way onto the buttons of your pants as she starts undressing your lower half and with that in mind, you know what Gaeul wants and further retaliation will just not work but rather put gasoline into the flames of anger. You just let her get what she wants as you will also derive pleasure from it but you know Gaeul’s going to put your life in misery within this given moment as you momentarily prepare for this.
“You know that I’ve been so fucking stressed lately and then you, added to that shit I’m going through—well, don’t worry, I’m going to use this delicious dick just for myself.”
Well, if this is how she’ll handle the situation, then so be it. With your defenses slowly becoming useless and deemed to be out of bounds, you take shallow breaths in order to prepare on what you’re about to tackle and ruthlessly, Gaeul yanks off your boxers out as she’s met with your erect length, constantly throbbing since the time she probably kissed you intimately. Unlike what you’ve fantasized or experienced with her, she eyes your cock like some sort of meal, not like something she’s been wanting for a long time as she spat all over your length, and stroked it starting from the base up to your engorged tip.
“Don’t call my name or touch me, because if you do, I’m going to really punch you, I swear to fucking god.”
She can’t be bothered with anymore foreplay as the hunger inside her took over and planted small kisses within your tip, and then sucking half of your length with already a ridiculous pace that inevitably lets out a series of ethereal moans coming out of your mouth, voicing your satisfaction. It’s obvious how deprived she is with your taste as the constant slurps on your shaft and her greedy pace of bobbing is a strong evidence, concluding to a fact she definitely wanted you yet anger and jealousy took over her that she became a different person.
Now, taking your whole length is each bob she does, more broken moans escape your lips as it forms symphonies for Gaeul to hear yet she doesn't care—all she wants is the taste of your cock and to fulfill her own needs. She didn’t mind the gags she does whenever your head hits the back of her throat as she continues to suck every inch of you like she’s been starving for weeks and with her current pace, you can’t help but writhe as you hands unable to find a leverage to fight the sudden peak of pleasure. You can’t help yourself and Gaeul know you can’t handle her properly, as she increases the quality of her oral expertise all over the length of your shaft and the inevitable comes, your hands finds its way onto Gaeul’s dark locks in which, she didn’t like and immediately, she pulled out of your length as the multiple connections of her saliva onto your shaft makes up the mess that made your arousal skyrocket.
Gaeul’s furious at what you’ve done and won’t let you get away from it as she snarls at you, her anger streaming over her like a hot kettle. “What the fuck did I just say? Are you that fucking stubborn??” 
Of course, the question is rhetorical and all you know is that you’ve fucked up with the wrong person. With Gaeul’s ice-cold glare towards you, it wasn’t going to long for a punishment to be ensued as her dainty fingers found its wall on your sensitive balls, and cups it gently. It was a rush of pleasure whenever she does that yet it was quickly changed when she wrapped her fingers around it, making it a makeshift cockring that definitely puts more salt onto the wounds—it’s a little painful yet it stimulates you even further as she continues her oral masterclass, slobbering all over your succulent shaft like there’s no tomorrow to see.
She maintains the ridiculous pace onto your whole length as her soft, warm cavern which is her mouth makes up for the constant pain she’s doing onto your sensitive balls, further unlocking your masochistic side. She shows no mercy and sympathy as she uses her mouth to further derive her wants as she can’t get enough and resist the taste of your length yet even with all of the great things that have been happening, it will all soon come to a halt as she pulls out and catches her breath desperately.
“God—you're glad your cock tastes fucking delicious and I can’t resist this—shit, be grateful because this could’ve ended worse.”
You’d want to argue with her on that scope, but you'd rather not, not when her rage is boiling hot and she wants not yet attended to its fullest. Further continuing her great expertise, she delivers such an incredible pace as her other hand grips onto your thighs for a leverage on a better job and sucking you off. Every thrust she does is genuinely making you brain being fried down into shambles and when forced herself onto deepthroating you, she crossed the line as you can’t help but cry on how great her throat feels, yourself getting weaker with her own spell. It didn’t take long before she ejected out due to her multiple gag reflexes and god, once you look down, you can’t help but feel more aroused with the sight of face sullied with her own makeup, saliva and her disheveled hair.
“I’m g-going to suck this dick until you cum deep down my throat, do you understand?” You nod eagerly as she smirks as strokes your saliva-sheathed length and mutters more commands, “Don’t you dare hold back and be a good boy for me.”
You won’t let her down and will deliver up to her finest desires as she latches her lips onto your engorged head, collecting the copious precum that has been leaking out and then eagerly shoved down your whole length for the umpteenth time in her throat and ensued with a rapid pace. It was breaknecking as the copious drool stained her hands still gripping onto your balls, onto your thighs and some dripping on the floor and it’s just a great element to further ignite the essence of an incredible oral session. She can sense how close you are due to you needy moans and the constant throbbing of your shaft and with profound knowledge, she further doubles her efforts as she needs to taste every drop of your succulent, creamy semen that she’s been addicted to and there’s no way you’re going to last long. Given the fact that she’s been giving you the euphoric experience you’ve had for an undeniably long time now, you’re not able to savor the moments you’d want to as you can feel your loins acting up and hell’s about to break loose for you.
“Gaeul—I’m g-gonna cum…”
Gaeul took this as an opportunity to show how she’s more deserving than anyone and how you could never find someone like her. She didn’t even bother responding by words, but rather, her own, frantic actions as she plunged her throat deep down as she gags and you finally, let out the pinnacle of paramount bliss—shooting streak of thick, creamy semen down her throat as she gags in every spurt, but fight through it because she wants to take it all and not waste a single drop. She successfully did it, given on how great she takes your cock and suddenly, your seed instantly disappeared and is now treasure down to her stomach as she hummed in satisfaction because of your delectable load.
“Can’t get enough of this cum of yours—fuck, it’s so delicious.” Gaeul shares her satisfaction with the flavorful taste of your semen as she averts her eyes towards you, still with a cold glare as she stands up and lets you know about something you’ll never forget. “I guess she can’t do it like I do, hm? Like I said, you’re not gonna find another one like me.” Gaeul, still fueled with her rage, stands up and commands you to lay down on the couch in which you find it puzzling as you’re genuinely confused on why she’s acting like this.
“Gaeul—please, can w-we just talk about this?” Your pleas doesn't let Gaeul distract herself onto her desired prize as she’s still not done with you and would rather hear your moans than your annoying voice pleading for something better.
“Maybe we’ll fucking talk if you dumped another load, now inside my cunt.” Gaeul retorts as she pushes you off the couch and you land with a thud, her not minding if you were alright or hurt because she’s feeling selfish due to her anger blinding her and her animalistic desires that unleashes the devilish side of her. With still your length being full-erect despite your already-impeding orgasmic trance, Gaeul eyes on it as she pounces on your lap like a bunny, hopping onto its favorite meal: your length, still wet with own saliva as she strokes it furiously in order to maintain the libido inside you. 
“Ga—Gaeul, I c-can’t take it anymore—I’m too sensitive!”
Well, she completely ignored your pleas and with that, she completely uses this as her own advantage as she toys with you, further pumping your throbbing length with feverish strokes in which you respond with whimpers due to your sensitivity.
“I don’t care—don’t tell me you don’t want this, asshole! Bet she can’t make you whimper like I do, hm?”
As much as you want to retaliate and stop this madness, you can’t help but feel utter pleasure and pain whenever she strokes your entire length as her touch is your kryptonite, and it will always be that way. Having enough of giving your shaft such pleasurable strokes, she strips her clothing one by one while still pouncing on your lap and with the sight of Gaeul’s slender body on display, your shaft can’t help but twitch because of how hot she is. Given her graceful and quick movements, she removed all of her clothes in quick succession yet she needed to hop off on your lap to strip her lower half and after removing it all, she quickly pounced and teases her lower lips onto your tip. The both of you moaned in unison because of such a great feeling coursing down your veins with your bodies clashing against each other yet Gaeul is growing impatient, opting for the climactic prize as she eagerly plunges herself onto your entire length. 
After she impales herself with your raging rod, such sultry and sexy moans escape her lips as she misses the feeling of your dick inside her tight, velvety walls. She ensued a moderate pace as she greedily grinds her hips onto your length, withdrawing with only the tip inside and then slamming her hips back, filling her up to the hilt which made her moaned incredibly loud and you, groaning your satisfaction out as your sensitivity slowly dissipates as time goes by and with her rapid thrusts on your shaft. 
You know how incredible it feels everytime Gaeul rides you as she always brings her best, hopping and clashing her hips in contact with your body harshly as she brings the peak pleasure that you’ve always loved. Even though you know how she’s becoming selfish and using your body just for her own gratification and her needs to be fulfilled, you can’t still help but notice how she’s reconsidering your own pleasure as her movements laced with finesse and the peak-quality of her thrusts against you is a strong evidence.
“Yeah—see? You can’t think about her right now, don’t you? Yeah—because you can’t help but get so fucking turned on with my pussy, hah—that’s why, you prick!”
Gaeul growls at you as she uses your shirt as the leverage to further ensure a breakneck pace and to further fight the intense pleasure that’s been coursing down her veins since the start she rode you. You could feel her wetness in every thrust she does on your shaft as rivulets of her own nectar overflow around your shaft and stain the couch—and here comes another event where the both of you will literally stain and destroy another couch because of both your filthiness. The wet squelching of her shaft sends your brain into a stimulation that further makes everything better yet it’s becoming way too pleasurable that you’re starting to have your mind clouded with only the gripping walls of pussy that puts you into a hypnotic trance.
“Gaeul—p-please, if w-we can just talk—”
A smack resonates around the room as she slapped your face with anger still boiling within her as you feel a sting yet it didn’t really hurt you because she didn’t bring much power onto that smack. As how your previous attempts of persuading her onto talking to you in a better way possible concluding onto a major fail as everything was deemed useless against her, you’d just keep your mouth shut and relive and cherish the pleasure that she’s been delivering as you totally succumb onto your own needs too, groaning in pleasure and moaning to voice out how good she’s riding you even though she doesn't acknowledge your sincere compliments towards her—even with her holding a deep grudge, you know that deep inside, she’s deeply flustered because she knows how your compliments literally fuel her do more and makes it more endearing.
The sight of Gaeul’s cunt constantly engulfing your entire length as she creams all over it, her perky mounds jiggling in every time she gyrates her hips and her expressions and moans that contains pure lust and wants—even though she’s suppressing the sounds that’s coming out of her mouth and trying her absolute best to make up a stern and intimidating look, she can’t help but let her true self out as the pleasure is making her give in to her true feelings and putting her hypocritical demeanor into its demise—is so arousing that you’d literally want to take a picture or a video just to save it and possibly even jerk off to it on your free time but of course, you’d probably just conceal everything and let both of your eyes only be the ones to see this filthy masterpiece.
With her given pace, Gaeul can’t help but just lure in to her own carnal desires as she’s coming near to her own promised land, drawing herself closer onto her rewarding trance as the constant pulsations of her pussy and her juices spilling out of it as the evidence of her nearing high. Knowing about this, you thrust yourself upwards as surprisingly, she didn’t bother to stop you but even encouraged you to do so and with her final oscillations, she’s going over to the line and all will break loose.
“God—I’m going to fucking cum all over this stupid cock—shit, it f-feels so—ahh—good—gonna cum!!”
It just took a single scream from Gaeul as she creams all over your throbbing shaft, her juices spilling out and making everything on its vicinity wet and it’s further worsen when she pulled out of your length, spraying her liquid nectar all over your abdomen, your shaft and on the sofa. She falls limp on the sofa as she catches her breath, regaining herself some energy from the enervating orgasm that sends shockwaves throughout her body as euphoria takes over her. Still having some of her energy left, she chides towards you to do something as she complains on how your cock can always make her cum hard.
“Gosh—glad I can only feel this cock ‘cause—fuck, this cock makes me cum so fucking hard I fucking love it… Now will you fuck me? Be sure to finish in me ‘cause I want that load deep inside my cunt.”
Her sinful words makes up for the sudden loss of tempo as you stood up from the couch and without any question, Gaeul positions herself where her freshly-fucked cunt is all on display, all for you to take with no-return and to end what she started a while ago. Your hands then grabbed her hips as her flexibility was tested, her legs now rested onto your shoulders as you immediately plunged your length back into her wet folds and then mustered a ridiculous pace in which she always loved. There was no more foreplay as it was out of the equation as both your needs should be attended as soon as possible yet Gaeul isn’t a fan of what your hips are capable of doing.
“Come on—fuck me harder, come o-on—oh fuck!”
Gripping her hips harshly enough for a bruise to form, you ensued more power in each of your thrusts as she moaned in need with your utter harshness, treating her body like a ragdoll as every plummet your hips do meant to break her in half and turn herself into a mess, uttering such lifeless syllables full of lust and greed. Even with your breakneck pace, Gaeul can’t seem to be impressed with the way you’re treating her as she complains again, fury taking over her and making her boil.
“I s-said—fuck m-me harder—oh shit, just like-fucking-that you stupid asshole!!”
You then fuck her with a pace imaginable, your hips mustering up a velocity that no one can comprehend as you let your pent-up anger inside fuel the rapid thrusts that’s bound to break her apart and possibly, to fuck out the anger she’s feeling and to succumb onto her wanton needs. 
It may seem impossible on this given moment but being derived to fulfill each other’s needs is the best way to end this even though her rage for you is still deep within her—you just hope you can fix this in a better way possible but for now, you’ll just dig yourself closer to the rabbit hole, a hole closer to your own lustful desires and to succumb onto it,
There’s no way Gaeul can’t tell how closer you are on reaching your own, long-awaited high as you gave her cunt the last, ruthless thrusts that made her cry due to the intense gratification she’s feeling as she close her eyes and lets her senses gave her the better stimulation than ever before. Without holding back, you announce your near orgasm to Gaeul and she took this as an opportunity to fulfill her needs as she sexily moans for you for further encouragement and it’s not going to be long before you reward both yourselves.
“Fuck—I’m gonna cum inside y-you, Gaeul—shit, g-gonna cum!!”
Now with her legs repositioning to hug your waist and to further lock your whole length to be buried deep inside her, you groan with the tightness her walls are making as you bury your shaft more, filling her up to hilt and shooting down multiple spurts of your treasured seed right onto her womb. Your thighs quiver when you deliver her your semen as at her end, she became enervated due to the exhaustive session of sex and the mind-boggling stimulation that made her brain go haywire. You kept buried in her until your orgasm impeded, and then, you pulled out to admire the mess you’ve made between her legs and as expected, the both of you fell limp onto the couch. With enough courage, you asked her something and anticipated a better approach yet you’re still met with something else you didn’t like.
“Now, can we talk?”
Gaeul rolls her eyes as frustration is still embedded within her, but you can see it being lifted by a little due to the faint smile she did after receiving a warm load deep in her cunt. “I’ll go and clean up first.”
Having a little faith, you let her do what she wanted to do as she stood up and a visible struggle was evident when her legs became a little wobbly due to the intensity of your pace and hers earlier. You ensued on helping but she brushed it off and said that she’s fine and she can help herself up.
But there’s maybe a single thing that Gaeul can’t withstand nor do against it as it’s inevitable for her to resist and put a sleep onto…
“Hey…” Gaeul stopped as she called you, and you were fazed by it but you brushed it off as responded to her.
“What, Gaeul?”
Gaeul sighs as her stern glare still shoots daggers at you, but her tone is now softer than what it was before, “Come and join me in the shower, then we’ll talk right after.”
Yes, her weakness is literally you as you’re insatiable for her. Guess what? There’s maybe another chance to clot what has been wounded and fix what has been broken but you could never be so sure but that? That’s a sign of mending and that alone gives you hope for the better…
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marvelouslizzie · 5 months
Text
Why Are You Doing This To Me?
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summary: Your ex-boyfriend Bucky Barnes wrote two songs about (for) you and you don’t know what to do.
pairing: Ex!Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
warnings: Angst, a past failed relationship, pettiness, jealousy, anger, a lot of emotions, no mention of y/n.
word count: 2.3K
A/N: I have been away for a while because I was busy learning another language aka Dutch. I still am but at least I am done with my big exam. As soon as I was done with it, I found myself writing again.
This is a random idea that just popped into my head while listening to music and taking a walk. Pure angst for some reason. Usually, I go for smutty ideas but bear with me.
>> indicates incoming messages and << indicates outgoing messages in this story.
Thank you @notafunkiller for proofreading and editing this so fast ❤️
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Keep reading tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
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>> Hey! I know you don’t want to hear anything about Bucky, but I think you should check these out. I think he wrote these songs for you.
Two links from Spotify follow the text you received from one of your best friends, and you stare for a while, trying to decide what to do. You really don’t want to hear his voice. Not because you don’t like his singing or his songs, but you wanted to get back on your feet. It would be impossible if you kept listening to his songs. Besides, hearing his voice has always softened you. And your best friend knows this. She knows a lot about your relationship, how everything went down, and how you two eventually broke up. If she didn't think you should listen to these songs, she wouldn't be sending you these links, right?
You take a deep breath and click on the first link. The song starts to play, and you notice the soft vibe right away. It’s not particularly Bucky’s style. He sounds like he’s in pain but he's singing with such clarity that surprises you.
He talks about how much he regrets the things he didn’t do when he was with you. How he misses you so much every day. How much he wants to call you, but he’s afraid that you won’t pick up the phone or worse, you will talk to him like a stranger. He says he always knew how precious you were, yet he took you for granted.
The lyrics flow flawlessly. It sounds like poetry to your ears. The way he expressed himself so beautifully… You can’t believe he wrote such a heartfelt song about you, and it’s not even his style. He’s a freaking rockstar. He usually writes about sex, rock and roll, and drugs. Not feelings. Then the song finally reaches the chorus and his words make you freeze. 
“You are the love of my love.”
Did he really just say that? Did he just call you the love of his life? You feel this rush of emotions, and it’s hard to distinguish what you are actually feeling. It makes it harder to think, harder to focus on anything else other than the fact that this song is for you. That’s when you notice the name of the song. It’s the Love of My Life.
Suddenly, you start to feel angry. Every other emotion just takes a backseat. You hate him. So fucking much! Why is he always like this? Saying everything a little too late. Was it so hard for him to tell you this when you wanted to find just one reason to stay with him? You begged him to communicate with you maybe a million times. He always said it was not easy for him to put his feelings into words. Good or bad. It didn’t matter. He always struggled with his emotions. You tried your best. You tried to show him that he could trust you, that you would always be there for him, but it didn’t matter in the end. You felt like you were the only one trying to make this relationship work.
That’s when you decided to give up. It felt like he just didn’t care enough. He didn’t put any effort into changing things or making you feel like you weren’t just beating a dead horse.
You hoisted the white flag and moved on with your life. That’s when he decides to put whatever he feels into words. Instead of talking to you, he makes a song about it. Then he puts it out into the world. 
What a fucking asshole!
It takes you a while to realize the song is over as the silence fills the room. As much as you hate how he chose to do this, the silence disturbs you. It might be a little too late, but you still want to hear what he has to say. Your own rules about not listening to any of his songs instantly go out the window.
You open the messaging app and click on the second link. This one sounds a little bit more like his usual style. The name of the song though, instantly catches your attention this time. It’s one of the nicknames he used often for you. 
He starts the song by saying that he knows how selfish he is. That he has no right to feel this way, but he just saw you with someone else and he hated how it made him feel. He talks about how jealous he is. How he can’t help but imagine you in that guy’s arms. Then he realized you might call him baby, just like you used to call him. Then he continues by begging you not to call him baby, how he wants you to save that pet name for him even though he’s not in your life anymore.
There are so many details throughout the song that indicate he’s talking about you, there is no mistaking. He calls you by your nickname, saying how he loves the way you talk passionately about your interests, how compassionate you are, and how much effort you put into maintaining your relationship but he was too stupid and pathetic to appreciate them.
Every word that comes out of his mouth makes you even angrier. How dare he? How dare he write a song like this for you? After everything you have been through, after all the effort you put into your relationship, after every heartbreak… He realizes how much he values you just because he saw you with someone else.
Selfish bastard!
He has no right to put these words out there. He has no right to feel jealous. You are not his anymore. You can call someone else baby if that’s what you want. How dare he try to dictate to you like this? It makes you wanna call someone up and go out on another date and call him baby, just in spite.
The problem is, it’s just your stubborn nature talking. Before this song, you didn’t even think about calling someone else baby. You didn’t feel like it. Subconsciously, you were reserving that pet name for him. And that fucker knew it. He just knew it!
You exhale deeply, trying to calm yourself down. The song is over, but you can still hear him singing in your head. The song is so beautiful. Petty but so fucking beautiful. He sounds like he poured his heart out without caring how vulnerable it makes him look. 
Another deep breath, you try to understand which date he is talking about. You have been on a couple of dates since you two broke up. You were so dedicated to moving on. You didn’t care if it would hurt him. Because he didn’t care about how much he hurt you all those times you tried your hardest to make things work. So you went out with a couple of gentlemen. Some of them were decent, and some of them were downright horrible. Dating is just as tedious as you remembered. A lot of assholes out there who don’t care who they are hurting. You didn’t get hurt, though. You didn't care enough about any of them to give them the power to hurt you.
Then it finally hits you. He’s talking about your date with that motherfucking movie star! That one was big news for a while. You got photographed two, maybe three times together.
You really looked like you were having fun in those photos. Truthfully, you were, he was such a funny guy. He knew how to make fun of himself. You were just so tired of pretentious asses. It was refreshing. That’s why you said yes to a second and a third date. Then he was off to a European country to shoot his next movie. You had a fun and it was more than enough for you. 
You precisely remember that tabloids started to talk about how perfect you two were for each other. God, that must have gotten under his skin. You can’t help but laugh. He’s so predictable. He just couldn’t bear to see you with someone else, but can you blame him?
You remember seeing something similar about him, but in that case, he wasn’t on a date with the girl. They were just working together for some lame-ass project he would normally despise. Maybe he was trying to keep himself busy, who knows? You remember so vividly how she was looking at him like she wanted to eat him up. As if that wasn’t enough, she kept praising him, calling him the best rockstar of the century just to get in his pants. You have no idea if it worked or not, but it was enough to make you feel jealous. So can you blame him for feeling the same?
It just makes you realize you want to listen to those songs again. It’s maybe too little too late but you still want to hear him. You wanted him to talk about his feelings for such a long time and he’s finally doing it. Through a song but still, he’s doing it. It isn’t exactly communicating because communication must be two-sided, right? That’s what was missing in your relationship. You were talking, pleading, trying while he was keeping everything in. You feel like the roles are reversed. Now he’s the one talking, pleading, and trying, and you just don’t know what to do. How the tables have turned.
The second time around, you notice other details you missed the first time. Like peaceful walks you took together whenever you had the time or how you always used fake names when you two traveled together. You can’t help but miss those days. Even though you had problems, being with him always felt so safe and peaceful. You have no idea how he managed to make you feel that way. Maybe that’s why it took you so long to end the relationship. You still miss the way you felt back then. As if you two could overcome anything together, yet you couldn’t. Because you didn’t work together. You were alone, struggling to make him talk.
Then he talks about how he still speaks to your friends, and that makes him miss you even more. That part surprises you because none of your friends mentioned that they were still seeing Bucky. Is that because you didn’t let them ever talk about him? You feared if you let yourself talk or think about him, you would go back to the point zero.
He ends the song saying he doesn't want you to be a distant memory, and this sticks with you. Do you want him to be a distant memory?
The second time you listen, you notice how desperate he sounds. The way he pleads doesn’t anger you anymore. You find something you feel in his words. Your own fears, your own selfishness and oh, how much you miss him. You didn’t let yourself admit that you miss him. You thought acting like he never existed, he was never a part of your life would make everything easier and it did. Just for a while. Lately, it was just a burden. You tried so hard to keep everything inside. Just like he did. You are still trying to do it… to act logically, not emotionally. Does it mean you are making the same mistake he did? Shutting yourself down, not talking about your feelings. Is it the solution or is it a part of the mistake? You can’t tell anymore. You just know that your heart is aching. The sound of his voice makes you want to cry.
God, you hate him so much!
How could he do this to you after all this time?
Is it that easy to get under your skin or was he always there?
You feel like you are about to explode because of all the emotions you are going through. On one hand, Bucky communicating with you is everything you wanted. On the other hand, isn’t it too late? And why did he write not one but two songs about you? Declaring his love to the world…
You repeat that last bit in your head. He’s declaring his love to the world.
He’s no longer afraid to talk about his emotions. He wants you to hear them, millions of other people are just the bonus. He’s not afraid to show how fucking miserable he feels. He just wants you back.
He’s doing his bit in communicating, but unless you don’t do something about it, it won’t matter. It will be another attempt in vain. You aren’t sure if you want to repeat the same pattern. You notice the song is over when your phone chimes. It’s your best friend again.
>> Did you listen?
<< Yeah.
>> How are you feeling?
<< Confused.
<< Are you still talking to him?
>> Yeah we all are.
<< Why didn’t you tell me that?
>> You said you didn’t wanna hear anything about him and we just respected your decision.
Just like you thought. You can’t blame them. Anytime someone mentioned anything remotely related to Bucky, you either changed the subject or found a reason to leave. So you can’t help but wonder…
<< How is he doing?
>> Not great. He misses you.
<< I miss him too.
>> Are you gonna call him?
You look at the message for a long minute. Are you gonna call him? That’s the question. Maybe you should. Maybe you shouldn’t. Both of the options sound equally wrong. You have no idea what to do.
<< I don’t know what to do.
>> Just give him a call. He’s the love of your life.
You have no idea how long you have looked at that text. Maybe for a couple of minutes, maybe for an hour. 
He’s the love of your life.
He’s a bastard, but he really is the love of your life.
And you are the love of his life.
Where do you go from here? You look at your phone once again. You finally know what to do.
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skipper1331 · 5 months
Text
Public? // Felicitas Rauch
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a/n: based off this request. Hope you like it:)
The tension was thick at home.
Felicitas loved you.
You loved Felicitas.
But that didn‘t change the fact that there was this strange atmosphere ever since the two of you had one of your biggest fight ever.
-
At the age of 15, Feli and you met.
At the age of 16, she asked you out on a date.
After several dates, you asked you to be her girlfriend - it took you some weeks to build up the courage to do so.
At the age of 23, Feli asked you to marry her.
At the age of 24, the two of you were happily married.
Both of you seemed to be happy - you were, but something in Felis mindset shifted which had led to your argument.
She hated that she couldn‘t wear her ring.
She hated that nobody knew she was married.
For the world, you didn’t exist - that‘s how many people knew about you.
You‘re her wife.
She wanted to show everybody how much in love she was with you.
She wanted to post pictures with you,
she wanted to hold your hand in public,
she wanted to be seen with you.
You‘re everything to her and nobody knew about it.
-
It started as a simple conversation.
"Liebe, can we talk about something?" the German asked, taking a seat in front of you. You looked up from your laptop, putting the pen down, so your complete attention was on her. "Is everything alright?" you questioned, a big frown displayed over your features. It was never a good sign to start conversations like that, "what‘s wrong?"
The defender took a deep breath before she answered straightforward, "be my wife." which came out ruder than intended.
Confused, you looked at her, "I am"
"You‘re not" she declared, her jaw tense.
"What‘re you talking about?" you closed your laptop, "does that mean nothing?" wiggling with your ringfinger.
"No" she didn‘t want to get mad but slowly anger started to float through her body, all her emotions discovering the surface, "because I can‘t wear mine!"
Taken back by her outburst, you matched her tone, "that‘s not my fault! You‘re the athlete, not me"
"You wanted us to be private!" her voice raised, "I could‘ve easily taped my ring" with her finger at the brick of nose, she tried to calm down. That’s not the way she wanted it to turn out - not at all.
"I want to be public" she stated, this time a much softer voice talking to you. The voice you could listen hours to.
"I don’t!"
With her voice level back angry and heart hurt, she growled, "Why not?!"
"I don‘t want to"
Your answer only made her angrier as she stood up and walked around the kitchen counter to pour herself a glass of water.
"That‘s not a reason!"
"You know what?!" leaving the chair, you gathered your notes, "I don‘t have to explain myself"
Feli could only watch as you took your laptop and walked away, in the direction of the front door.
Quickly, she followed you, stopping you in your tracks as she grabbed your wrist, her touch gentle, "Where are you going?"
"Away from you!" you felt so hurt, the insult of not being her wife. Was this whole marriage a joke to her?
"Y/n" she started, the hurt on your face visible for her, "please-"
"No, i got the message" you grumbled, "it‘s yours" angrily you took of the ring, slamming it down on the shelf.
Maybe it was childish to take off your ring but you felt helpless. She had been your girlfriend for many years and your wife for a few years, but never, never ever had she hurt you as much with a statement as she just did.
You left shortly after, Feli standing in the hall with an empty expression on her, your ring between her fingers.
She fucked up. She really did and she knew.
-
It was dark outside, 10 minutes before midnight and you still weren‘t home which made her anxious. The varnish of her nails was peeled off, her leg hobbling up and down and her mind racing with worst case scenarios.
Liebe❤️
When are you coming home?
please let me know
Even though you were hurt, you replied to her text. You hated it not reply to her texts and you could imagine how she was feeling, you hated it too when you didn’t know when she was coming home.
You
one hour.
Feli was laying in bed, anxiously watching the clock in your bedroom as she waited for you to come home. There was no way she would fall asleep before she knew you were safely at home.
Exactly an hour later, you opened the front door, walking into your home, eyes puffy and red. The defender didn’t leave the bed, she didn’t try to approach you nor talk to you. She wanted to let you be. Yet that didn‘t stop her from hoping you would join her in bed.
And you did.
Wordlessly you laid down, your back facing her. The German felt her heart sink, usually you would always cuddle her - she really had fucked up.
It took you about 20 minutes before you fell asleep, your body physically exhausted, Feli still wide awake. As your soft snores filled the room the defender was quick to decide what her next move would be. She couldn’t sleep without holding you, so that‘s what she did. Her arms snuggled around waist as she pulled you close, your body relaxing in her touch. She would make it up to you - that was a promise.
-
You woke up alone in bed, the wolfsburg player nowhere to be seen. Making your way out of bed, dressed in a oversized shirt and shorts, you walked in the kitchen, the smell of pancakes hitting your nostrils, "good morning" you muttered as you rubbed your eyes, taking on seat at the bar stool.
"Hey" the german whispered as she took you in, "I made you breakfast" she handed you the plate which was filled with pancakes.
"Thank you"
It was silent for a few moments.
"I‘m sorry" your wife started, "I’m so sorry. You‘re my wife no matter if the world knows that or not- I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I’m so sorry for insulting you like that" she inhaled sharply, turning to you as she gently interwined your fingers, "I love you. You are everything to me"
"Your comment hurt me" you whispered, your head falling against her shoulder as she instantly wrapped her arms around you. Silent tears streamed down your face as she mumbled sweet nothings in your ear.
"I‘m so sorry, baby" multiple kisses were pressed against your head, "I don’t wanna be public if you don‘t want to. I want you to be happy"
Her hands cupped your cheeks as she made you look at her, her eyes determined with her statement, "I love you"
-
"Can you tell me why you don‘t want to be public?" she asked one evening as she held you in her arms with the tv playing in the background. Her tone was gentle, understanding and as if she would accept every answer, she just had to know an answer.
"I like privacy"
And even though, it was indeed true that you enjoyed your privacy, the real reason to stay in secret was because you were afraid. You feared the public and their words. You didn‘t want your relationship to break down because her fans didn‘t like you or your looks or the fact that you don’t play nor enjoy football.
Just you and her.
-
The topic wasn‘t brought up again yet you could see how it killed Feli from day to day, how much it hurt her to take off her ring every morning. Her eyes stopped shining the way they used to, her smile didn‘t reach the corner of her eyes anymore - the light was missing.
She loved you, she really did and she still treated you like a princess but not wearing her ring, not having the opportunity to show you off left her heart in pain.
Which is why you did what you did one day after her training.
The defender came home with a smile tugged on her lips as she told you about her day.
After her story about the day, "I‘m going to shower, baby" she stated, pressing multiple kisses to your cheeks before she walked towards the bathroom, her phone resting on the kitchen counter.
When you heard the shower, it was safe to say that she wouldn‘t come out of the bathroom for at least 20 minutes.
Snatching her phone from the counter, you made yourself comfortable on the couch. Feli never had a problem if you take her phone, she had nothing to hide and was fully convinced that you would never control her which was true. Never ever would you stalk through her phone or anything, most of the time when you used her phone was for music, hay day or when she asked you to reply to someone. You trusted each other blindly and more than anything, so opening instagram, you did the thing that made her happy, hopefully.
You revealed your marriage with a simple post.
Within seconds her phone blew off, notification after notification.
feli_rauch
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jule_brand and 20.364 others
feli_rauch 🤍
When Feli left the bathroom, you were happily cooking some dinner as music played softly in the background. You swayed with the beat, humming along the lyrics as you prepared your meal.
In the meantime Feli walked in the living room as she heard her phone ring constantly. What was happening?
And then she saw it.
Over a thousand notifications on instagram.
Why?
Your post.
"Liebe!" she yelled while she quickly entered the kitchen.
"Ye-" you‘re cut of as lips were pressed against your own, strong arms wrapping around your waist.
Feli kissed you with every inch of love in her body,
she kissed you with so much happiness,
she kissed you with a new found passion.
When air became a problem, you pulled away, the defender chasing after your lips for multiple pecks.
"What was that?" you asked, completely out of breath, lips swollen and chest heavily rising and falling.
Replying with "A thank you" she cupped your cheeks, thumb softly caressing it, "for the- that the world knows I‘m married and happily so"
your cheeks turned red, her gaze so intense as it was filled with love. She smiled brightly at you, a smile that reached the corner of her eyes.
"I‘m sorry for being so secretive, I was afraid of the outcome- the media and fans but I’m done with it. I love you and it‘s time for everyone to know" you stated in a firm voice, ready to fight the world if needed.
"I‘m so in love with you"
-
Since that day, there hasn't been a day where Felicitas took off her wedding ring. In games, she would tape it up, the same as in training. It was her good luck charm and everybody should know it.
—————
414 notes · View notes
birdiewriteslit · 17 days
Note
hii can i request 23/24 w jack hughes please?
“sober secrets, drunk deliveries”
jack hughes x f!hischier!reader
birdie’s 300 celly
i legit love this so much
From the beginning, Jack was very clear with you about keeping your relationship a secret from your brother. You told him countless times that Nico was harmless, but Jack couldn’t be convinced.
Maybe Nico showed the boys a different side of him in practice and in game, but you knew him as your lovable older brother.
Until Jack had told you a few weeks into your relationship that you were off limits to him, you didn’t even know Nico talked about you to the team at all.
When he introduced you to Jack during family skate a few months back, you immediately took a liking to him.
He was funny and easy to talk to, although apprehensive to get too close to you because of Nico’s supposed “threats.”
Over the past few months, you’d gotten to know Jack better and started a secret relationship. A lot of the time, sneaking around was hot, and the thrill of potentially getting caught fueled your desire, but you were getting restless.
You hadn’t said it to each other, but you loved Jack. You were serious about him and you knew he felt serious about you. You felt guilty hiding something you loved so much from your brother, who you obviously loved the most and told almost everything to.
That led you to tonight. You, the WAGs, and the team were out celebrating at a bar after a big win.
With a mixture of alcohol and the restlessness previously mentioned, you were being a little bit riskier than usual.
“Jack,” you said, tugging on his sleeve. “Jack, pay attention to me.”
He turned his head, his eyes locking onto yours, his mouth parted. “I am, baby.”
Uh oh. Jack was drunk too, and he didn’t even notice when he let the word slip. Ignoring the looks on Luke’s and Dawson’s faces, you giggled, taking his hand and pulling it around your shoulders, pressing your body into his side.
“If you were,” you teased, dragging out the last word and interlocking your fingers with his. You made an effort to whisper, but it came out louder than you intended. “You’d know I wanna be in your bed right now.”
“Jesus,” Breathed out Jack shamelessly. “I’ll take you there right now, say the word, honey.”
Nico had made it to the table, and at this point in the conversation, he heard pretty much everything he shouldn’t have.
Luke eyed Nico’s shocked expression. “I need to excuse myself,” he said awkwardly, tapping Dawson’s shoulder, signaling him to follow him and leaving Nico alone with you and Jack.
Both of you remained oblivious to your brother, too wrapped up in each other and the alcohol. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that you realized he was standing there.
You took your eyes off of Jack but didn’t step from him. “Oh, hi, Neeks. This is my boyfriend, Jack. Do you know him?”
Jack, on the other hand, sobered up pretty quickly when he saw Nico, and immediately dropped his arm from your shoulder.
“I know him, but I’m not really sure why you’re dating him,” Nico joked, sounding pretty unaffected.
“Are you mad?” Jack asked quickly, like a child asking a parent for forgiveness.
“Why would I be mad?” Nico asked.
Jack gestured to you, pointing back and forth between you like it was obvious. “‘Cause she’s off limits, according to you.”
“I only said that so nobody would bother her, but I don’t think you’re bothering her.” Nico shrugged, nonchalantly sipping his beer.
“Can I say something?” you interjected, raising your hand. “I totally knew you’d be cool with this because you’re the best brother ever.” You rounded the table and practically launched yourself onto Nico, completely disregarding the fact that he was holding a drink.
“Okay, time for you to go home,” Nico laughed, setting his spilt beer bottle on the table and patting your back. He glared at Jack from over your shoulder. “You’re not taking her, though. I don’t mind if you date her, just never talk to her like that in front of me and we won’t have a problem.”
Jack’s face burned red at the thought of the conversation that Nico overheard. “Sorry, Cap.”
Nico nodded, his glare replaced with a pleasant smile and he guided you to the bar’s exit, much to your dismay.
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rookthorne · 5 days
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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐞𝐝
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Surprises were not an unexpected occurrence when you come to think of it, not when you had Bucky Barnes as your boyfriend, though you had to give him credit where credit was due — he was a crafty, cunning man when it counted.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✯ Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✯ 2.0k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✯ This is just pure filth ჻჻჻ SMUT: Unprotected piv, rough sex, multiple orgasms, restraints/blindfold, inappropriate use of Christmas lights, oral fixation, biting, finger sucking, so much dirty talk (this fic has the most dirty talk I have ever done), Dom!Bucky ჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, degradation, sir, breeding
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✯ You can imagine why there was only one smut entry for this day, because I did end up yeeting myself after this one.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ✯ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ჻჻჻ Blindfolds (November), Dom Big Dick Bucky Barnes (January) — Masterlist ✯ @mcukinkbingo 𝗡𝟭 — Character is a Dom — Masterlist ✯ @sweetspicybingo Sweetheart Bingo — My Bed Now — Masterlist ✯ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist
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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“Honey, sweetheart,” Bucky said innocently. 
There was a hint, a smidge of trouble in his voice — the very same tone he took when he wanted something far more than family friendly. You couldn’t help but smile as you sat on the couch in the living room, phone in hand; feigning blissful ignorance was a game you loved to play. 
Especially with him. 
A shadow moved in your peripherals, and this time, Bucky’s voice was a little closer. “Baby.”
The smile on your lips threatened to give you away, so you schooled your expression into being focussed. Your cover was made more successful by the furrow of your brow and tongue between your teeth.
“I know you’re listenin’ to me, kitten,” he drawled, and he sat on the couch next to you, his bright eyes staring so intently into the side of your face. “Stop pretending and look at me.”
“You know,” you began, locking your phone screen before you placed it on the side table. “Using all of the sweet names won’t get you what you want. I was Christmas shopping.”
Bucky shrugged, a coy smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t know, kitten—you seem to respond pretty instinctually to bein’ called all sorts a’things. Or maybe–” He leaned in closer, his breath fanning over your lips. “That’s just my pretty girl respondin’ to her sir.”
The breath in your chest hitched and morphed into a choked gasp. “Bucky!”
“What?” he asked, pouting. 
You sighed, then took a deep breath. “What do you want, you menace?”
“I want you, baby.” The couch creaked as he shuffled closer, and his hand moved to grab your jaw. His fingers gripped your face gently, and he moved your head, facing it forward so his lips could trace over the side of your neck. “I want you, spread under me an’ takin’ my cock like a good girl—that’s what I want.”
“You and your fucking words, sir,” you breathed, letting your eyes flutter shut. 
Bucky grinned against your neck, and his hand moved to press lightly against the front of your throat. “But this time, sweetheart,” he said, “We’re gonna do somethin’ new. Strip, then lay down on your stomach in bed.”
The moment you flew to your feet and followed his order was when you realised how right he was — the blood pooled in your cunt and your walls throbbed, empty and wanting. Your clothes flew to the corner of the room, a discarded pile, and you laid flat on your stomach atop the comforter, resting your chin on your crossed arms. 
Heavy footsteps came soon after, followed by, “Close your eyes, baby—I’m gonna blindfold you, then tie you up by your ankles and wrists.” Bucky appeared at the side of the bed, and he kneeled so you were eye level with him. “That sound alright?”
“Fucking yes,” you rushed, willing your heart to slow down — passing out before the fun began was not something you particularly wanted. “Please, I want that.” 
Bucky grinned. “Alright, hold tight now.” 
The soft fabric of the blindfold brushed your forehead, then rested over your eyes; all light was now gone, and you were cloaked in darkness. 
“How’s that, Honey?” he asked, the pads of his fingers brushing over your cheeks. “That okay?”
You nodded vigorously — the mystery of what he was doing, or what was to come, lit a fire inside you and the heat of it travelled to every nerve. The slick feel of wetness between your thighs made you rock your hips for momentary relief. 
An action Bucky did not miss. 
“You already achin’, kitten?” There was a dark chuckle, and you squeaked when his warm palm cupped your bare ass and pulled your cheek to the side, your core now exposed to the cool air. “You wanna be filled, huh?”
“Yeah– Yes, please,” you whined, pushing back against his hand. “Please, sir, I need it.”
“I know what you need, slut,” Bucky snapped, and his hand came down with a sharp crack against your skin. The pain startled you, and you gasped. “Patience.”
Rough hands moved down from your ass to your ankles, softly caressing the skin until you felt the tight grip of his hand around the back of your heel. “Here we go,” he whispered, and you nodded. The soft feel of some kind of fabric tickled the skin, and then, the fibres of something brushed over your ankle, tightening there. You could feel Bucky’s fingers between the strange material and your skin. “How’s that, baby?”
“It’s perfect,” you replied. “Now hurry up.” 
Bucky laughed and did the same to your other ankle, spreading your thighs wide and checking the tightness before you heard him walk up to the head of the bed. “Can I have your hands, please, sweetheart?”
“So sweet–” The covers ruffled as you held out your hands. “Why so gentlemanly, now?”
The same fabric on your ankles looped your wrists together, the hold strong and firm, but loose enough to tug free from. “Well,” Bucky said, his hand running up your arm. “There is one reason, baby.”
“And what’s that?”
Bucky chuckled darkly, and you felt the mattress dip at your side. The weight of his body on one knee made you tilt to the side. “So, Honey,” he said, and there was something in his voice you couldn’t place — your heart thundered against your ribs and in your cunt. “I thought ‘cause it’s Christmas, ‘n all.” There was a brush of skin over the back of your bare thighs, and you realised with a jolt that Bucky was naked, too. He settled between your thighs, his knees forcing your legs wider apart. “I wanted to tell you I love you.”
“Aw–”
“‘Cause I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”
Your cry of shock was wrought with a moan at the feel of Bucky’s cock pressing into your heat, inch by thick inch. It was too much to bear, but he wasn’t stopping. “Fuck, kitten,” he hissed, his lips against the shell of your ear, “You’re already so fuckin’ tight, let me in, baby.”
“Oh–” You groaned loudly at the feel of his hips meeting your ass, and his arms caged you to the mattress. “God!”
“That’s not my name, sweetheart.” The words were followed with such a harsh thrust the bed slid over the floor. “Your cunt is fuckin’ made f’me, isn’t it? Jus’ perfect to fuck and fill—leave wantin’ and beggin’ for release.”
“Yessir!” you cried, your hands balling into fists. “Please, move—I can take it–”
“Can you really?” Bucky said through gritted teeth. Hot puffs of air brushed your temple, and you felt his lips trail towards your earlobe, then down to your neck. “I know you can, slut—but whether– Fuck, whether you can manage not to break.”
“Break me, break me, need it– Sir, please,” you babbled, whimpering from the lack of stimulation when his hips stilled. “Fuc–”
Bucky’s hand covered your mouth, and he shoved two fingers between your lips to rest over your tongue. “Shut the fuck up, kitten—suck on them like you would my cock.”
“Hnng!” you managed, and your tongue ran over the pads of his fingers while your lips closed around them. The hollows of your cheeks deepened with the effort. “Mm!”
“Yeah, fuck it,” Bucky growled, low in his throat. “I don’t wanna hold back—not anymore, this cunt’s jus’ too perfect.” 
The first thrust was harsh; the second even harder; the third made your vision white out. 
Mercifully, Bucky took his hand out of your mouth and placed it back on the bed, the inner side of his elbows brushing your sides with the force of his thrusts. 
You couldn’t help the moans that fell from your lips like a prayer, his name and title loud over the slick sounds of his cock forcing its way in and out of your cunt. “Sir! Sir, please—feels s’good!”
“Tha’s it, baby,” Bucky praised, and his hips moved harder — the slap of skin a symphony with his grunts. “Call for me, baby—go on.”
“Ah– Fucking, please!” A loud ringing sound accompanied the pounding of blood in your ears, while an unbearable heat burned through your core, tearing your reservations to shred as it swept through. “I think–”
“If you can still think, slut,” Bucky growled, and he lowered his head into your neck. “Then ‘m not fuckin’ you hard enough.”
His hips jackhammered into you, fucking you with abandon into the mattress while he bit and sucked on your neck. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, just as the pleasure crested and rolled into something unbearable–
“Tha’s it, good kitten, good slut,” Bucky cooed, and he spread his legs, forcing yours wider. “Can feel you—give it to me, baby.”
The first sparks of your orgasm stole your breath, and you gasped, pulling in breath to your desperate lungs. “Sir! I’m–”
Bucky moaned, a deep, guttural sound that reverberated through your whole being, and your climax swept you away. Distantly, you could hear his calls of, “Fuckin’ good girl, good girl!”
You could feel him fuck you through the throes, but each thrust forward sparked the climax into starting again; the rawness of your throat turned your moans raw and rasped. 
Even so soon after your first, the start of a second orgasm crept closer — you couldn’t voice it, but Bucky knew. 
“You’re gonna give me more, kitten,” he demanded, and he ground his cock deep, forcing you down hard onto the mattress — his cockhead continued to brush against that spot, making you dizzy from the pleasure while tears welled on your lash line. “Then I’ll fuckin’ fill you up ‘till it takes—fuck a baby into you, over and over– Fuck, yeah, baby, tha’s it!”
You wailed as a second climax tore through, fiercer and harsher than the first. 
Bucky’s hips faltered in their punishing rhythm, and you could hear his grunts and moans over your pants for air. “Please, please,” you rasped. There was suddenly light filling your vision and you shut your eyes at the shock of it — the blindfold landed on the covers with a light thump next to your head. “Wha–”
The glint of colour caught your blurred vision — you blinked to clear it, and you found your wrists encircled by tinsel and Christmas lights. And in your dazed state, you started to deliriously giggle. “You think it’s funny, baby?” Bucky purred, and you could feel his smirk; hear it in his words. “Why don’t you cum again for your sir, so he can fill you up?”
“Hnng– Yeah,” you moaned, “Please, please–” 
“You hear that slick while I fuck you, huh? You hear it?” Bucky asked, his voice deep and just as wrecked.
You nodded, closing your eyes to listen to his hitched moans and wet sounds of his cock as he fucked you deep and hard, the long strokes against your walls heavenly. “Mhm–”
“Give it to me then, slut,” he snapped, driving his hips faster, “Fuckin’ perfect pussy, can feel you squeezin’ me and beggin’ to be fucked an’ filled, baby—c’mon.”
There was no time to voice the pressure you felt as a third, devastating climax burst — you could feel your release coat your inner thighs and drip down onto the bed, and Bucky’s cock only forced more of it out. “Yes, yes, yes,” he grunted into your neck, “good girl.” 
The hard pressure of his teeth over the skin of your neck intensified the fire in your veins. 
Bucky’s muffled moans grew in volume when his thrusts fell out of rhythm. “Gimme it, sir,” you moaned weakly, canting your ass up to meet his thrusts. “Fill me up—need it so bad.”
“Fuck.” He slammed his hips forward, pushing his cock to the hilt while it twitched. “Fuck, fuck, y’feel s’good, kitten,” he rasped, and you started to feel the pressure from his release coating your walls. A guttural moan filled the air and you whimpered. 
“Good girl, good girl,” Bucky praised, lowering his body over yours while his cock still twitched in your cunt. “Takin’ me so well, tha’s it—jus’ a bit more, good girl.” 
Your sense for words had long vanished, so you laid there, under his weight feeling protected and full of him. 
Eventually, you managed to mumble, “Happy Christmas t’a me.” 
You felt Bucky’s chest shake with laughter against your back, and you smiled dazedly. “Merry fuckin’ Christmas, Honey,” he cooed, kissing your temple. 
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⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
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dameare · 7 months
Text
Personal Brand of Heater | Jacob Black x Fem!Reader (Oneshot)
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Word count: 1,899
Summary: The first time I had kissed Jacob was entirely an accident. That was how I wanted to think about it, at least.
Silly notes: So... it was 4am... and it was cold, so at the time writing this made a lot of sense. Plus I was lonely and destructively pining for the one and only, Jacob Black. *hands you this fic* Enjoy!
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The first time I had kissed Jacob was entirely an accident. That was how I wanted to think about it, at least.
Winter was just by the horizon, approaching with a certain quiet inevitability, and a blanket of darkness was beginning to unfurl itself across the landscape—and Forks, being the cold and sleepy town that it was, made the first hints of a wintry burden a lot more obvious.
So it was cold. And it was just that there was something about cuddling with Jacob in the middle of the night that did it for me. It made total sense: I was freezing, and Jacob was hot. Literally. Like my personal brand of heater. And maybe I also liked him a little bit. Or a little too much. Or maybe I was in-love. It was the only explanation, even though before what had happened I'd hardly given myself enough time to even name what I'd started to feel for Jake.
It sounded stupid at first, being in-love with Jake. There was no way. But the more I thought about it, the more convinced and horrified I became. That stupid fluttery feeling in my stomach whenever Jake looked at me. I'd thought about the way my chest sometimes felt like it was going to explode when he hugged me, or the way my stomach dropped and twisted at the thought of Jacob hugging a different woman that wasn’t me. God, I was in-love. Of course I was. But even that wasn’t reasonable enough to accidentally kiss him.
So when I had had the clever idea of hitting Jacob up to “hang out” at two in the morning and he didn’t reply, I'd assumed that would be the end of it, and that I would have to curl up in bed, alone and feverish from the chills the night brought.
But that wasn’t the case, and I had only realised this when Jacob was already launching himself through my second-story window and then into my room with a stealthy thud. The dumbass.
I looked at him, stunned. “Jake, what the hell?”
“Whew, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Jacob said, a wide and pleasant grin of mockery spreading across his face—the one that made my stomach do the dumb flip thing. GAH. “I’m sure you don’t really mind.”
“I don’t,” I said automatically. I wasn't stunned at seeing him anymore, because he wasn’t wearing a shirt and I was stunned at something else instead. The pale moonlight sneaking in through my open window made his russet skin look richer. He looked ethereal. The dangerous kind of ethereal. “Do you ever get cold?” I asked dumbly, trying to shift my focus.
Jacob laughed. “Didn’t you already ask that before?”
“I did? Maybe I forgot.” And maybe I had also forgotten how to talk.
He opened his mouth, looking like he was about to crack a joke, but something made him change his expression. Instead, worry creased his forehead, and he inched closer to me.
He was huge, and he leaned over me, so huge that his shadow made my little room look darker. I was looking up at him, completely overwhelmed—my head was pounding and my chest was freaking out and the fever, which I had momentarily forgotten about ever since he came in, came hitting me again. I swayed unsteadily, legs going slightly limp. Jacob grabbed me easily by the waist. “Hey, hey. Is everything okay?” He whispered anxiously, slowly easing me towards the edge of the bed. “You’re shivering, why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Are you cold?”
I only managed to nod before my legs gave way, plopping into a weak heap on the bed.
His hand was really warm. “Jesus christ, you’re freezing. Don’t you have a heater somewhere?”
I shivered uselessly on the bed, delirious. He watched me for one long moment, hesitating. Then he snuck to my side and began settling down onto the bed, and before I could even begin to protest, his arms were already wrapped around me—one arm under my head and the other tightly snug around my waist. And then I wasn't protesting anymore.
I let my head rest against his bare chest. “You’re so warm,” I muttered, the words muffled out by his chest. The heat was so inviting, so comfortable that I didn’t want to pull away. Not that I could ever, even if I had the energy to. The warmth seeped into my skin, the icy grips of the night slowly melting away.
Jacob chuckled, pleased. “That better? Don’t move too much, alright. Save your energy for me. I’ll warm you up.”
“What about you?” I exhaled heavily. “You’re going to freeze.”
“Not really,” he promised. “Hey, say, why don’t you try sleeping? What’s kept you up this late?”
I thought for a second. "Hypothetically," I said, my mind gaining clarity. "If you weren't a werewolf anymore and you lived in the city, what's the first thing you'd do?"
I felt his chest stop at a chuckle, and then there was silence. When it dragged on for a moment too long, I tilted my head to look at his expression. He was staring into the distance, where I'd put up a bunch of city photos for my vision board. His eyes seemed to light up. "If I weren't a werewolf anymore," he mused. "I'd try out all the burgers in the city and check out what they sell in Walmart. I heard they sell weird stuff there... and then maybe I'd go shopping in one of those big malls... get a job... go to a university."
I snorted. "Wow okay, I understand the rest, but Walmart? Really?"
"Don't judge me," he met my eyes, suddenly defensive. He smiled playfully and pushed my hair out of my face. "Let's hear yours. If you decided to live in the city, away from... all of this. What would you do?"
There was hardly any need to think, because it was all I ever thought about during my first summer in Forks. And it was hardly even a summer, really, because it rained all the time and it was still cold even on the good days where the sun was slightly more visible. "I would live by myself in the city, in a small apartment. Like a normal person," I said, wincing at the last part, because all things considered, I thought the word *normal* just didn't exist in Forks anymore, and saying it felt like a major offense. He nodded, and I went on, "I would go to bookstores and those loud concerts... and then go for a late night drive after, you know? Just drive for hours without a destination. It kind of sounds nice. It's like surrendering all your worries for one night. I think that kind of freedom would make me feel lighter."
I watched his face. He laughed at first, saying, "Your answer makes mine look like child's play."
"I'd try out every burger with you, and go to every Walmart conceivable." I offered.
"You'd do that?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
He grinned. "Well, I'd carry your books for you, and I'd drive you across the city for as long as you want. Sounds fair?"
"So it's a promise." I smirked.
"Hah well, not that my being a werewolf can stop me from making you happy," he said. Then he tightened his grip just a bit and lifted me effortlessly, setting me on top of him. "Is this better?"
I hummed a yes, suddenly finding it very, very difficult to breathe. "You're... really warm," I sighed.
He smiled softly. It looked so much better up close, so much so that my stomach did that weird flippy thing again. "You said that earlier. Although," a sheen of mischief lit his eyes up, "if you want to feel warmer you could always just take your clothes off."
"Jacob," I warned, a smile threatening to break out of my face. "Shut up, will you?"
"Survival one-oh-one," he teased.
"Saying that isn't really a friends thing."
He raised one eyebrow, curious. "Oh so taking your clothes off is where you draw the line?"
"Like every sane person, ever, duh."
"Well, cuddling like this isn't really a friends thing either," he retorted.
My face flushed red. "What do you mean?"
"The way I hold you," he said quietly, with a sudden hint of seriousness to his voice. "Is this how friends are supposed to roll?" He asked, his face speculative.
I stayed quiet. I wasn't breathing again. It was the question, and maybe the way the gentle glow of the moon was casted upon his face. His eyes twinkled in the light, like pools of rich and velvety chocolate. He was sort of beautiful that I didn't want to breathe ever again. He stared right through me, watchful and interested. His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, and our breaths mixed with how close our faces were. It was so warm and so right.
My gaze flickered from his eyes to his mouth, then back again. His mouth tugged up at one corner, as if he had the faintest idea of what I was thinking—and maybe, just maybe, he thought the same.
It was slow, but also quick in a weird way—not quick as in like something in the heat of the moment, but quick enough that I couldn't register what was happening, and slow enough for me to remember every single detail—slow enough for me to conclude that it really wasn't an accident.
His hand gently made its way to the small of my back. He rubbed gently, and I leaned in, our faces inching even closer; I could hear my heartbeat loud against my chest, so loud maybe he'd heard it too. But his eyes were fixed, mesmerised as I moved in. Our noses touched and he inched to the side, nudging forward with the tip of his chin; he glanced at my mouth, then flickered quickly back to my eyes.
There was a momentary pause where our faces both hovered, so close and mellow and sure, and I ached in anticipation. I stole one more glance at his mouth, and then I was sighing into the kiss, the aches and worries leaving my body. His lips were hot, and it scorched against mine, but god he was so gentle—like a gentle rush of air through leaves. The kiss stayed warm and slow, almost exploratory, but there was also a sliver of hunger shoved in between—like Jacob had been dying to do this for a while, and when he finally did he couldn't stop anymore. My lower lip caught delicately in his teeth, and he sucked on it; I allowed him, because I loved exploring his mouth just as much—in an almost obsessive manner. My tongue wandered, the pleasant taste of something woodsy settling into my mouth.
When we pulled apart, it was with soft gasps and fitful smiles and chuckles. He patted my head. "Was that also a friends thing?"
"Nothing about us is friendly," I finally admitted.
"So that means...?"
"I want to be your girlfriend, Jake."
His face stretched out into a huge grin. It was contagious. "Took you long enough, my little moon."
"Is that a yes?" I pinched him lightly.
He chuckled. "Do you want to go at it again for an answer?"
856 notes · View notes
p0orbaby · 2 months
Text
Almost There
summary: alessia shows her vulnerable side
warnings: a little angsty but nothing much else
a/n: this took about 20 mins to write so please lower your expectations
word count: 605
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“You’re late”
“I know, I’m sorry”
She tuts at you but you know it’s in jest because she leans down to kiss you right after. It’s slow and soft like melted marshmallows over a fire, and it warms you up inside despite the cold wind that whips around you both.
“You said four,” she murmurs against your mouth, before pulling away and checking the watch wrapped around her wrist. “You’re lucky I love you”
“The luckiest” you offer as she grabs your hand, leading you to the passenger side of her car. The door opens with a click and you slide in, grateful to be out of the cold.
“You know,” she says, her voice low and authoritative once she’s settled behind the wheel, “sometimes you need to assert yourself more at work. If you’re going to stay there, you’ve got to show them they can't just mess you around”
“Baby, we’ve talked about this”
Her jaw tenses and she doesn’t look at you before she peels away from the curb. You working is a topic that’s come up several times throughout your relationship. She’s explicitly expressed her opinions on the matter, her financial position, the pointlessness of it all. Yet it falls on deaf ears.
“I just don’t see why you insist on working still,” she admits, her eyes fixed diligently on the road.
“I know you want to take care of us. Of me,” you sigh. “But I enjoy working, Alessia. It’s not just about the money”
Alessia’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, her gaze ahead focused on the road. “I get that you enjoy it, but it’s not just about the money for me either. I want you to have the best, without the unnecessary commitments”
“I already have the best”
Alessia’s jaw relaxes slightly at your response, and she steals a glance at you. There’s a tender warmth in her eyes as she acknowledges your words. You sigh when she finally wraps a hand around your thigh.
“If I had it my way, you’d be spending more time at home looking all pretty for me when I get back from training”
You raise an eyebrow, "Barefoot and pregnant, huh?"
She grins, "Well, maybe not pregnant right away, but you get the idea. I want you all to myself for a little while longer”
You hum because you want her all to yourself too, “I’ll consider it”
“Good”
The car rumbles through the city, shadows dancing over your face as you turn to watch the world go by. All is well until you realise you’ve missed the usual turn that leads home. Your brows furrow with confusion, but before you can mention it, Alessia speaks up.
“I’ve booked us in for dinner at that new place in town”
Alessia's words hang in the air, and as you continue through the streets, you begin to connect the dots. The subtle tension, the snappiness earlier—it wasn't about her being upset with you, but rather a result of her wanting to make things special.
You turn to her with a softened gaze, "You've been planning this as a surprise, haven't you?"
She nods, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "I wanted tonight to be different. Something nice for you”
Guilt twinges as you realise she might have felt neglected amidst your work schedule. You reach for her hand, intertwining your fingers. "Thank you, baby. I'm sorry if I've been too wrapped up in work lately”
Her expression softens, “I just want us to have more moments like this. I’m sorry for being snappy earlier. It’s just… I miss us”
“I miss us too”
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earthtooz · 1 year
Text
𝟐:𝟎𝟑 𝐀𝐌
fluff, hints at a fight that happened so minimal hurt/comfort, sooo much swearing, ooc rin bc he's so hard to write wtf he has a personality of an apple but i love him &lt;3
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it’s 2 am.
it’s 2 am and someone is knocking on your door like a madman.
you were simply trying to catch some shut eye, exhausted from a day of grieving and almost breaking down into tears on several occasions. the accumulation of a shitty day, a stressful deadline, and the massive fight you had with your boyfriend, itoshi rin, two days ago, really committed to keeping your day melancholic at best. sleep was everything you needed right now, both for its regenerative and escapist purposes.
yet again, you really cannot catch a break from the spite of the universe because it is out of rage that you find yourself walking towards your front door; an anger that dissipates when you see who it is on the other side.
1/3 of the reason why your day sucked. your painfully beautiful boyfriend.
the argument you had with rin was left open-ended on whether the relationship should continue or not. to you, it seemed as though both parties were at different opinions, with you wanting to maintain what you had. after two days of not responding to your texts, you suppose that that had been a short way of answering the ambiguity.
willingly, although reluctantly, you open the door, preparing to end something that you were not ready to let go.
he’s sweaty and he’s panting. did he run up the stairs or something, why is he so puffed? how is he so pretty despite that?
“hey,” you begin, feeling small in his presence. rin bores through you with his teal eyes, not saying anything. you cringe at the silence.
“i appreciate the effort but y’know, if you wanted to make our breakup official couldn’t you have done it at a reasonable hour, rin?”
his eyes narrow at that statement, betraying his usually stoic expression with furrowed brows and an agape mouth. confused. he’s confused, but you don’t see any of it because you find the floor more interesting than your boyfriend (?).
with a deep inhale, you just decide to go for it. if he’s not going to declare it, then you will. “look, rin, maybe you’re right, if this relationship is holding you back then maybe it is best we-“
“-the olive theory.”
“excuse me?”
the first words this man utters to you after two days… is the olive theory?
the dark-haired continues. “the olive theory, we’re- we’re supposed to be compatible.”
you are way over your head right now. did you even wake up? is this a dream? why is your, usually all-straight-talk, boyfriend talking to you about the olive theory at 2am, stammering whilst doing so? what kind of hallucination is this?
“rin, what?”
“i like olives, you hate them, we’re meant to work, and i don’t think i can continue on like this.”
you blink once, twice, three times before pointing at him. “you’re telling me that we’re compatible, yet in the same sentence, telling me that we should break up?”
"i didn’t want to break up?”
“but you just said you can’t continue on like this, what else do you mean?” your voice is at a hushed whisper at best, and although you wanted to raise it louder, you fear that your neighbours would not be happy.
“i meant that i can’t continue on without you!”
silence.
“i’ve become so co-dependent on you that i fucking hate it. i can’t fucking function without you, even that fuckhead isagi knows that i’m off and it’s all because of you. it’s only been two fucking days and i’m not landing 60% of my goals, i’m not receiving 20% of my passes correctly, and i keep tripping over myself, you’re ruining me, y/n.”
the flurry of emotions within you triples, and you’re so flabbergasted that no words can escape your mouth. truthfully, you can't think straight, but if you could, the words would fizzle out in your throat before they even saw the light of day.
“if i have to suffer any more of this stupid silence between us then i might kill a bitch. that bitch being the antennae freak.”
even more silence, and rin is practically begging you with his gaze to say something. funnily enough, the next thing you murmur is out of reflex: “don’t say that about shidou.”
he groans. “if i didn’t love you, i would choke you right now.” wow, itoshi rin has a way with words.
the threat causes you to crack a smile. “well, good thing you love me,” you mutter whilst grabbing him by the wrists to pull him inside your apartment. “and it’s a good thing i love you too.”
“well no shit, we’ve been in a relationship for-“
“-shut up and kiss me, you smooth talker.”
the soccer player smirks in amusement before leaning forward, closing the physical and metaphorical space between you, soothing the heartache with gentle touches and a fervent need to love one another.
༊* BONUS:
“why are you here at 2 am? i thought you, of all people, would be fast asleep.”
“tried to, can’t sleep without you- you’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?”
you smile fondly as he hooks an arm around you waist, collapsing into you as a way of saying that he doesn’t mean his rough words. “so i’m just another bedwarmer?” you ask teasingly.
he grumbles a ‘tch’, digging his nose into your nape. “you’re an idiot.”
“thank you, love. speaking of bedwarming, can we go to sleep?” perfectly paired with a yawn, rin looks at you with slight guilt in his eyes before dragging you down the memorised path to your bedroom.
once there, he wastes little time in dragging you into the sanctuary of your bed, and you let out a sigh of content when rin turns off the lights and pulls the covers up. instinctively, your hands retreat to his hair, carding through them.
he’s holding you close, hands resting protectively around your waist.
“we have a lot to talk about in the morning, but did you not get any of my texts?”
“you texted?”
“…yeah?”
“oh yeah, i remember now that i blocked you after our fight.”
you mercilessly smother him with your pillow.
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the--rebel--fae · 24 days
Note
Was wondering if I could get a little something with Angel? A bit angst -> fluff maybe he comes back after a rough fight with val and just starts throwing himself on reader until they get him to talk about it and comfort him by reassuring him that they don’t want him for his body like others do.
Angel doesn’t get enough love on here and I’m done with it😭
Thanks Pookie! Much love!
A/N: Of course you can my dear! I totally agree Angel needs more love! I did it slightly differently but I still incorporated as much of your request as possible. Writing Angel is apparently a lot harder than I thought, but I still loved doing this. I hope you like it!
Pairing: Angel Dust x Reader
TW: A little bit of swearing, angst but then comfort, slightly suggestive--It's Angel Dust that's a given, and small references to abuse.
Word Count: 902
A Hazbin Love
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“You know Husk, I knew you were good at creating alcoholic drinks, but,” You took a sip of your coffee and rested a hand on your cheek, enjoying the taste of the rich caffeine as it started to work its way into your system. “This coffee is probably the best I’ve ever had.” 
It was generally pretty quiet in the mornings in the hotel, but you’ve been nursing a rather nasty headache after fighting with your best friend and unfortunately for your heart–crush, Angel Dust
You kept seeing how he was treated by that horrible bastard Valentino day after day; and early this morning after hearing he was going to work, you well… snapped.”
Your heart hammered in your chest as you continued your frantic descent down the stairs of the hotel, almost accidentally knocking over Sir Penitous in the process.
“Angel,” you panted, trying to bring breath back into your lungs. “You need to somehow get out of this. I know he owns your soul, but maybe there’s a way–”
Angel Dust whirled on you. A mix of pain and anger on his face. “What? A way out? Hah, Dollface don’t make me laugh. You think if there was a way I wouldn’t have tried?” He ran a hand through his hair, an action you’ve seen him do many times when he was upset and didn’t know how to process his emotions properly. 
You tried to put a comforting hand on Angel Dust’s arm only to have him bat it away. “Look. (Y/n) You’re looking out for me, I get it. Charlie tried this before and it only made it worse. So back off.” Angel Dust sighs and turns to leave but then pauses and glances back at your hurt expression. “Why do you even give a damn anyway? You’ve always stuck your nose up at my work every time I tried to talk ‘bout it.”
You clicked your teeth and balled your hands into fists. “Hah. You know why I cringe every time you talk about your work? Because I see how it destroys you. Every. Time. I’m not some prude like you want to believe Angel. But I’m your best friend and I care about you dammit!”
“Then stop caring!”
“I can’t! You’re my best friend and–and I’m in love with you!”  
You ran your hands through your hair remembering when you yelled that. The second that was out of your mouth you froze and Angel Dust just walked out the door and didn’t say a word.
“Well, I made it strong just for you kid, after that conversation a few hours ago I can tell you needed it.”
You cringe slightly at the reminder of what happened between you and Angel. “Thanks Husk. I-I just hope he doesn’t hate me. I–” you cringed. “I don’t think I could live with myself if that happened.”
“You really think I’d hate ya toots?” A familiar voice that makes your heart twist sounds out just mere feet from you.
You go and glance at Husk, only to see he already made himself scarce. Sneaky bastard, he probably knew Angel was coming over you think. 
Turning in your seat you let out a small gasp seeing the state that Angel Dust is once again in. A light bruise over his left eye, his fur ruffled in various places, but even still, to you, he looks as handsome as ever.
“I-I just thought with the sudden confession,” You trail off, your voice getting caught in your throat.
Angel Dust walks forward and gently wraps you in a hug. “Yea, that surprised the hell outta me but,” Angel Dust chuckled. “To be honest toots, that confession of yours is the only thing that kept me goin’ today.”
Angel Dust picked you up so you had to wrap your legs around his waist. “Now I’m gonna show you how much that actually meant to me.”
You bit your lip, as much as you really wanted to see where that takes the two of you, you knew that it was Angel’s way of evading and avoiding any real feelings. You pushed off of him gently and shook your head.
“Angel, I don’t want you to just throw yourself at me and think that I just want a physical relationship. If we are to be in a relationship, I want all of you, not just the physical aspect. I want dates, inside jokes, nights of just cuddling together.”
Angel Dust gave a confused look but then his eyes started watering and he plunked down into a nearby chair and put his face in his hands and his shoulders started to shake. The tears flowed freely now. “I-I want that, I truly do but I just…I don’t know how. Thanks to Val all I know is the physical part. I’m just…broken that way.”
At his words, you felt tears prick in your eyes. You walked around to the front of the chair and rested your head in his lap. “Angel, I’m so sorry you have to go through that. It’s not right. That’s why I was so upset this morning. But you’re not broken. No matter what you think. And I’m here for you. Forever and always.”
Angel whipped away his tears and put a hand on your cheek making you look up at him. “You sure (Y/n)?”
You found yourself leaning into his touch. “Positive.”
Hope you enjoyed love! I always love getting the chance to write for Angel Dust, the man needs more love. So feel free to request for more of him anytime!
And if you guys want even more stories--like maybe your own personalized several-page long one-shots or even a multi-chap fic take a look at my Etsy Shop! I do commissions! I even have listings for Hazbin Hotel!
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astro-rainbow777 · 9 months
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Astrology Observations
Volume I
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Disclaimer: Please take these with a grain of salt as I am not a professional. These are just some of my observations I’ve seen from studying random people in my life. I hope you enjoy💕
💐I know someone at work with a Taurus stellium and one of her Hinge posts says her love language is gifts, and said (jokingly I hope) that she would preform sexual favors for a guy if he bought her m&m’s lmao. She also was hooking up with this guy at our work, that she had no intentions on dating, and would get sooooooo possessive if she saw him talking to any other girl. She also talks about being possessive all the time with her “play” friends ;)
🍬 I have my 6th house and Taurus and work with sooooo many Taurus placements. I chart 75% of my coworkers and the ones I talk to the most have Taurus placements, kinda cool.
❤️‍🔥As a Scorpio Moon I’ve found myself really drawn to and appreciative of the Aries Moon nature. They are so direct & assertive with how they feel. I appreciate this so much because I don’t ever feel the need to worry if they are hiding anything from me. Especially when you really get to know an Aries moon, what you see is what you get. They also validate and encourage me to express my big feelings which makes me feel so safe! As a lot of you know Scorpio Moons can be very secretive with our feelings because they can be so big and scary to others. The last thing we want to feel is ashamed for how we feel things and Aries moons get that, and they genuinely don’t hold a grudge against you for anything you say whenever you’re emotional. Just having that type of energy in a connection makes healing and growing in a relationship 10 times easier for us! Thank you sm to the Aries Moons out there! Just to add the 2 Aries Moons I am close with have Scorpio in their personal placements as well….if you don’t relate maybe that’s why lol
👽Scorpio & Virgo in big 3 🤝 Being the most observant people you will ever meet in your life! They pick up on the teeniest little things ever, for ex. If you have a stain or wrinkle anywhere on your clothes that’s the first thing they will pick up on. Also this combination is usually not a fan of change from my experience. Like if you move something from the “correct” place 4 inches over they will be like “Why are touching my shiz brah?”-Never fails. They like the routines and the consistency. They will literally spot a bird 10 yards away and be like omg is that a gRey-WIngEd trUmPetER?!?!! And I’m like how??? How did you even? These people notice everything, probably a great investigator too-same with Gemini/Scorpio placements!
♟️I promise you Virgo placements care about doing something “correctly/right” more than you do- even whenever it doesn’t directly effect them. They are so funny in the way that they operate I love them 😂 If you ask a Virgo to hang up a picture on the wall- please make sure you have a leveler!!!! They will spend 15 minutes minimum making sure that it’s even, if you don’t provide the necessary tools they will rehang something until it is perfection! Once a Virgo was doing a double nose piercing on me and kept redoing the mark of where she was going over and over and over again just to make sure it was perfectly even with my other piercing. Which I appreciated but I could tell if I left the shop with a lop sided nose ring it was going to bother her more than it would me! Very Wholesome peeps- ily guys fr 💙
☮️Gemini Venus’ do tend to be pretty loyal from my experience- but if they are bored or in an unfulfilling partnership they have the tendency to mentally cheat like doing tarot readings to see if their ex still thinks about them type of shh 😭Also the type to gossip about their partner or make up rumors about their relationship. Then they go home to their boo and act like nothing is wrong? 7th house Gemini tho can be very flighty whenever it comes to intimacy (I have this placement)- I am extremely loyal but if me and my partner get into a fight I’m prepared to break up always. I have a 7th stellium tho so I’m not sure how y’all would relate or not 💗
🏖️Leo moons NEED a creative outlet in order to be emotionally fulfilled imo! They thrive having their own little show-from what I’ve seen with these guys they love having a hobby they can share with the world and regularly be the center of attention. No joke-these people are some of the most talented beings I have met in my life! They 100% have a gift or a niche they get a lot of positive attention for and desire to share with the world. Every Leo moon I have been close with loves to perform for their loved ones- it is so wholesome like they are sharing a part of their soul with you⛲️
🐟Heavy 12th house placements (mainly Mercury & Venus) read poetry regularly or relate a lot to poetry. Even if it’s like little Tik tok or instagram posts. I’ve also noticed these guys like to just have books-even if they don’t read regularly? I lived with a 12th house Mercury w/ Neptune in the 1st house and they like to read poetry but only whenever they are depressed. I think that this individual in particular also just really likes for other people to think that they are super poetic themselves. They like to talk about poetry and the arts but I’ve lived with them for almost a year and they rarely do artsy things. Venus in the 12th though genuinely loves poetry and regularly reads it. Venus in 12th is also BEAUTIFUL AF but thinks they have nothing to offer most of time? Like I don’t understand. Blind to their own beauty but so quick to see everyone else’s. Angels 😇
🦀As a Cancer stellium (Mars, Venus, Jupiter) in the 8th, I have lied to people about how I am feeling, or what I am doing as a form of emotional protection. I used to rarely let my friends and family know how I am doing-especially if I’m doing bad. I regularly feel bad for being upset with others, and it leads me to just completely abandon emotional honesty if I don’t think someone will take to my feelings/boundaries well. I AM SENSITIVE AND DELICATE and I’m also damn good at hiding it for I have thine Scorpio Moon in 12th🧚‍♀️ People only know what I want them to know- I’m in therapy guys! So please don’t worry about me 🥸
🌝P.S. happy cancer season reeeeee
I hope you enjoyed my first lil observation!!!🎉
I encourage feed back and kind constructive criticism! Please lmk how you felt and how you relate! Let’s connect! Let’s talk! Mwah 💋
Ty sm for reading 💕
-Kya
⬇️FEAST YOUR EYES FOR THIS IS MY NATAL<3
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🌈 I LOVE RAINBOWS 😇
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undiscovered-horizon · 10 months
Text
"Four Crow Investigation II: Lovebirds' Outfox" - Kaz Brekker x Reader
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[Four Crow Investigation]
☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾
Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi
SUMMARY: Nina and the rest of "crow-vestigators" are not as inconspicuous as they think. Being a little too spiteful for your own good, Kaz and you string them along. What the amateur detectives consider "evidence" of an affair is actually a well-thought-out scenario.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.1k
>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<
You stare with amusement as Wylan, Jesper, Inej and Nina are sitting around the table in a hardly inconspicuous manner. They’re leaning so close to each other, their bodies are covering their faces but you don’t need to read their lips or expressions to know exactly what they’re talking about. Meaningful glances, small nudges, animated whispering - none of that escaped your attention.
Then, you feel Kaz squeezing your hand in an attempt to shift your focus from the gossiping friends back to him. His eyebrows are slightly raised in a silent question.
"Do you think they know that we know that they know?" you ask, cringing at the word salad filled with repetitions.
"No," Kaz answers without hesitation. "Considering how long it took them to notice something so obvious, their observation skills are more underwhelming than I had originally thought."
The two of you glance towards your friends once more, left to only guess what tall tales they were making up. Observation skills, Kaz’s voice resounds in your head. Yes, they are good at noticing things they are desperately looking for, so, maybe, if they are looking for crumbs…
"Actually, I have an idea,” you begin in a hushed tone.  Kaz turns to look at you, his expression hardens the moment he notices your mischievous grin. “Up for a bit of roleplay?"
It’s been a wild week for the four Crows. They sat down at a corner table, across the club from you and Kaz talking about something by the bar counter. Absorbed by the conversation, you’re pouring a drink in a record-long time. Your hand hovers above the rum bottle as you’re closely listening to Kaz saying something. Then, to the surprise of the gossip club, you erupt in laughter.
Jesper frowns. “I’m telling you, there’s two of them. She gets the nice Kaz, we get the mean one.”
“No, the mean Kaz is still inside,” Inej refutes. “The nice one is making an effort to bury him but he’s definitely in there. Saw it myself.”
He turns back towards the group. Jesper puts his finger up in a warning gesture and speaks slowly: “Do not tell me Kaz Brekker is a knight in shining armour because there is no way I’m treating that as anything but a bad joke. I’m barely believing the stuff I’ve seen with my own two eyes.”
“N-no, there is some truth to that,” Wylan interjects. “I didn’t see him get angry,” he quickly adds, ”just… strangely protective.”
“So we can agree,” Nina says with expected giddiness, “there is passion in the perpetually grim Kaz Brekker.”
Jesper squints his eyes with suspicion. “I hate the fact that you used passion and Kaz in the same sentence but at the same time I’m curious why.”
“Oh, you’re going to love it!” She taps the table excitedly. “I’ll go first.”
╚ Nina’s Evidence ╝
You’re pacing around the office, jumping from one leg to another, shaking and fidgeting as much as you can without making much noise. While preparing to fool the Heartrender’s power, you’re ensuring that you look the part:
“Is this obscene enough?” you ask unbuttoning your shirt further. Tugging at your clothing, you’re making yourself look even more disheveled. Even the smallest sound outside the office door makes you jump as you’re impatiently waiting for a certain creek of one of the steps.
Kaz doesn’t answer. His watchful eyes are following your movements as he’s focusing on keeping his attention on the task at hand. That bright mind of his, however, fights relentlessly to memorize your unkempt look instead.
Not hearing him respond to your question, you turn around to look at Kaz. Leaning against the desk, he’s just staring at you with a quite inexplicable intensity. His unspoken passion is only making the voice in the back of your head louder: what if it was Him undoing my shirt?
But you stifle this thought. It’s not the time for this. Searching for distraction, you look at Kaz’s collar - the first two buttons are undone but they make him appear more sleepy rather than caught red handed at a moment of weakness.
“May I?” you ask, gesturing towards his garment.
“Go ahead,” he quietly answers. There’s a lot of trust in his lack of movement and calmness about your closeness.
Carefully, you grab the hem of his collar and open his shirt further, while making sure your fingers do not even graze the bare skin underneath, despite the urge sitting deep inside your abdomen. Then, you take a step back, examining his general state and whether it sets a believable scene. A proud smile creeps onto your face.
“You’re really enjoying this,” Kaz states.
“Actually,” you say as you lean against the table, fairly unaware that because of your disheveled clothing your cleavage is significantly more visible, “I’d be enjoying this little scheme a lot more if we were in fact being scandalous.”
Whether that was your objective or not, Kaz’s heartbeat picks up noticeably, his rogue mind flashing explicit images before his eyes.
A creek of stairs.
You and Kaz give each other a meaningful glance and you push the paperweight off the desk, knowing that Nina can hear it. The door swings open and you’re immediately in character, looking away with the most embarrassed expression you could muster.
Kaz clears his throat. “Is there a reason why you’re barging in?”
Nina looks a bit lost, still piecing together what she might have just interrupted. “I… uhm… I talked with Lizzie Hardy. She’s in, we can count on her.”
“Understood,” he says in a low, firm voice. “Now go. And learn to knock.”
A half-grin enters her face as she gets rid of any doubts as to what the two of you had been presumably occupied with before she entered. With a skip to her step, Nina throws a “You bet I will!” before leaving the office. She’s quite sure no one will have a better gossip than her.
╚ Wylan’s Evidence ╝
Wylan is startled by your yelp of pain, almost dropping the delicate vial in his hands. His focus immediately shifts to you, who is now frowning with your hand raised slightly above your head. A string of curses leaves your mouth as you check the wound again - yes, still there and still bleeding.
Right, bleeding.
“Are you okay?” he asks in a worried tone. Part of you feels guilty for fooling Wylan because of the sheepiness he wears most of the time but, on the other hand, he is part of the gossip girl club. This little scheme is just a consequence of his choice.
“Yeah, no problem. I’m a big girl, I’ll just wrap this and I’ll be fine,” you answer casually.
Pretending to look for something that can work as a bandage, you’re praying that Wylan can’t smell the cranberry preserve slowly dripping down your forearm. There’s an urge deep inside you to lick the jam, almost tasting the sweet and sour fruit in your imagination.
Kaz, who was waiting for the well-played-out yelp, rushes into the room with a grim expression. The moment he’s supposed to notice your injury, he makes a show of dropping his shoulders. He’s not saying anything, only giving short sighs and annoyed grunts as he reaches for a random rag laying around. 
“I’d advise against cutting off your fingers,” he says loud enough for Wylan to hear as he’s tightening the wrapped rag around your palm. "You need to be more ca-" Kaz cuts himself off, suddenly realizing he was about to use an off-limits word. "You need to pay attention to what you're doing."
Looking over Kaz’s shoulder, you see Wylan nervously glancing at the two of you out of the corner of his eyes. Jesper is going to hear world-shattering news in the next hour - on that you can safely bet any number of limbs.
╚ Jesper’s Evidence ╝
Too busy retelling what he had learned while following Lizzie Hardy, Jesper doesn’t notice the tiny signal you give Kaz while the three of you are walking through the streets of Ketterdam.
Air, cobblestone, a lost dog - it doesn’t matter. You stumble over something but ever watchful Kaz manages to grab you by the waist, preventing you from falling. To be honest, until this moment you weren’t completely sure this is going to work out because you never practiced this with Kaz. Well, you did, once, but the two of you got significantly distracted early on. So the plan to outfox Nosy Jesper was a leap of faith - literally and figuratively.
Jesper, the man in question, halted his story as he’s watching the unbelievable occurrence of Kaz having a caring reflex. For a moment he considers whether this wasn’t some kind of miraculous coincidence but on the other hand, the movement looked so natural and purposeful that it simply had to be deliberate.
Standing on your own, you look towards Jesper, who’s still staring at you and Kaz with furrowed eyebrows and his mouth slightly agape. “You were saying?” you coax him to continue as though nothing happened.
“Yes, right, the thing,” he stutters out as he’s trying to remember what he was talking about before seeing something so strange he’s questioning his own sanity.
╚ Inej’s Evidence ╝
Due to the late hour, or rather an hour so late it can be considered early, the club is deserted except for you and Kaz sitting by the bar. He’s silently watching your profile as you’re applying another layer of theatrical paint and makeup.
“Does it look realistic?” you ask for the hundredth time while examining the bruise in a small hand-held mirror.
“It’s good enough.”
You set down the mirror and look at him. To a degree, you know he won’t agree to your proposition but you try anyway, just to make sure:
“Maybe you could hit me?” you suggest. His expression grows colder. “Just for good measure. To really sell this,” you add in your own defense, as though there is a possibility of him retaliating for such a ridiculous proposition. Even when furious beyond imagination, you’ve heard him yell exactly once out of anger.
He leans closer towards you. Paradoxically, it’s you who is uncomfortable with the sudden intimacy but maybe the uneasiness is not due to the proximity but the chilling tension that has sprouted between the two of you. Kaz studies your expression for a moment, his jaw relaxes and clenches over and over again as he’s clearly pondering the earthiest way he can put his thoughts into words.
“I will never raise my hand against you,” his voice is quiet and wavering with emotions, “even if my life depends on it. So don’t ask again. Ever.”
Suddenly, you feel strangely small next to him as though Kaz is but a shadow that quickly grows larger as candlelight dims. “Right, sorry,” you answer awkwardly.
The door to the club opens with a creek and the nervous conversation has to be cut short. You cover your face with hands, having rubbed some chili seeds into your palms earlier. As the capsaicin reaches your nostrils and eyes, forcing yourself to cry is easier than ever. Pretending to be agonizing over something, you keep reminding yourself not to actually touch your eyes or nose.
You can’t see her face but you’re sure Inej is wearing a worried or confused expression and you’re quite correct in your guess - she walks towards you and Kaz with apprehension as though she’s still wondering whether she wants to intrude. Inej momentarily grows anxious, noticing the vibrant bruise on the side of your face.
Then, in a truly dramatic fashion, Kaz gets up from the bar stool and storms out of the club as you had agreed beforehand. While he’s passing Inej, she calls out to him:
“Kaz-”
But he’s quick to cut her off in a harsh voice:
“Not now, Inej.”
The door closes behind him with a slam and considering the state of the two of you, she prefers not to ask questions. It will be easier to sleep at night.
“They’re staring,” you inform Kaz while pouring him a drink.
“As far as I know, they have a reason to,” he answers, taking a sip of the beverage. His eyes are boring into you like his trying to look past your skin and bones, into your mind if not your very soul.
A wide smile brightens your face. You lean on the counter, face close to Kaz’s. Although it’s been some time, it still makes your heart flutter that he doesn’t move away. Perhaps it’s just his unreadable expression or maybe he really is unbothered by the proximity.
“To be honest, I enjoyed our little theatrics.” Smiling at him, your teeth glisten in the dim light inside the club.
“You make an impressive con artist, I have to admit.”
“Ah, forget the con part,” you wave your hand in dismissal. “It was entertaining, alright, but the best part was just spending time with you.”
Kaz almost chokes on his drink.
____ @moonstruckpoet @shara-ne @queenkalico
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hanniluvi · 4 months
Text
( 🎬 ) — KNOW ME ; HEESEUNG SHORT FIC
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“ this liquors got me faded, talking crazy ”
ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 spending a night with your drunk best friend makes you realize you don’t know them as well as you think you do. because, if you knew him, you would’ve known about his feelings for you.
— PAIRING best-friend!hee x best-friend!fem!reader
— GENRE angst, one sided love (or is it), friends 2 ???
— WARNINGS INSPIRED BY “KNOW ME” BY DPR LIVE, drinking n hee gets drunk (reader doesnt)
— WORD COUNT 0.8K+ ( 863 )
ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 hi guys 😊🤍 back on that angst writing grind (i may or may not have lied) bc i love angst !!! anyways i love love love know me by dpr live 😜
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Heeseung had a particularly stressful day, prompting him to drown his worries in alcohol during your planned hangout. You've observed his increasing tension over the past few days, leading to the drinking session. Hesitant to pry, you intervened as he reached for another shot, expressing concern about his consumption. "Isn't this your fourth bottle? That seems like quite a lot, don't you think?"
"No, it isn't," he hiccupped, attempting to retrieve the bottle as you evaded his grasp.
"You don't have a high alcohol tolerance, Hee," you chuckled, observing him rest his head on the table. Concerned, you asked, "What's been bothering you lately? Is it work?"
“Do you really think it’s because of work?” Heeseung raised his head, glasses slipping down, purple hair almost covering his eyes. With a flushed face, he maintained intense eye contact. Confused, you responded, "Huh?"
"Do you trust what I say?" he slurred, the effects of alcohol evident in his words.
"Of course I do—why wouldn't I?" you reassured.
"Maybe you shouldn't," he mumbled. Perplexed, you asked, "Hee, what are you saying?"
"How much do you think you know about me?" he posed a sudden question, causing you to pause. “Do you even know me?”
"I think I know a lot. I know of your favorite drink, our favorite show, your ice cream order—everything I should know. What don't I know?" you responded.
"How much I think and stress about you. How I look at you, how I take care of you, how I pay so much attention to you…If you knew me—you’d know that too." he admitted, slumping back against the wall and closing his eyes. Stunned by the unexpected confession, you froze. "I don't... I don't understand what you mean by that."
"I worry about us, mainly I worry about myself. Why? Because you're all I think about," he continued, his honesty cutting through the room. You listened, sensing the urgency of what he needed to let out of his chest.
Heeseung took a deep breath, grappling with the unspoken. Feeling his eyelids droop, he still continues on. "There are things I've never shared, thoughts that consume me. I know we promised to be there for each other when we needed anything, and I'm sorry for breaking it. But, I really couldn't find a way to tell you this. I need you to understand that I've tried my best to ignore these feelings, but I can't."
Opening his eyes, he held your gaze. "I think I like you, YN." The revelation hung in the air, leaving the room charged with unspoken emotions.
“You like me?”
“Yeah. I fell deep. I fell for everything about you–your smile, your jokes, your calmness, everything. You’re practically perfect. Just…just give me a chance you love you right.”
Heeseung's revelation weighed heavily on you, rendering you momentarily speechless. His intense gaze held yours, making it challenging to find the right words. After a gulp, you broke eye contact and finally uttered, "Wow, Hee... I'm at a loss for words. I don’t even know what to say." The room resonated with the gravity of unspoken emotions, and uncertainty hung thick in the air.
"What do you mean?" Heeseung wore a confused expression, not expecting this response. This was not like those sweet drunken confessions—had he perhaps drunk too much? You intervened, cutting through his thoughts.
"I really appreciate that you are being honest with me—and I wish you would’ve told me sooner," you expressed, your eyes slightly glimmering, your stomach tying itself into knots. Was he going to get the answer he yearned for?
"Because?" Heeseung slurred, staring at you, hopeful for those sweet words. A heavy silence descended upon the room, carrying the weight of unspoken feelings and the acknowledgment of a friendship forever altered.
"But Hee, you know I can't love you back," you whispered, the truth hanging heavily in the air.
Heeseung froze. "Oh." The disappointment in his voice echoed through the room, marking the poignant end of a hope that had lingered in the unspoken spaces between you. He was just confused. What did you both know?
Heeseung never wanted to be pushy, but the words eventually spilled out. "Did you…find someone better? Or don’t feel the same way…?" He just wanted closure.
"Heeseung, you're drunk," you frowned slightly, a sad glint in your eyes that couldn't go unnoticed.
"So?" he hiccuped.
"I’ll...I’ll tell you later, yeah? Let’s just get you home." As you were about to get up, Heeseung's shoulders slumped as he sighed, a sense of disappointment and vulnerability washing over him. "I just needed to be honest with you, YN...so why can’t you be honest with me?”
"I'm glad you're honest with me…" you said as you put his coat onto him, watching him look up at you as you did so. “And I can’t tell you right now. You just—you just deserve way better.”
"So you’re telling me that I'll just have to find someone who will love me like I do for you, right?" Heeseung managed a faint smile, though sadness lingered in his eyes. “If that’s what you want.”
"I'm sorry, Heeseung," you apologized, the weight of the moment palpable. Your vision was slightly getting blurrier by the second. "I really am."
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