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#i’ve done so many of these and they work i promise you
bo0zey · 2 years
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yeah bpd’s all fun n games until u end up ruining every single one of your closest most treasured friendships because no matter how much u think u love them and want to be their friend forever u still somehow find a way to fuck it all up and såbøtàgè everything for everyone and u did it to urself u hurt them and u pushed them all away and there’s no one else here now there’s a common denominator to it all the only one left to carry all the blame and it’s you because it’s you you you who’s to blame for the pain u spread and the relationships u lost because you pushed away every single person you wished would never let u go
#i never wanted anyone to miss me when i died i never wanted them to care and now i made sure no one ever will#because i’ve shown everyone i’ve ever loved that i’m not worth loving back. i’m worth leaving bc i’m toxic and evil and possessive and loud#i feel so purposeless. like it’s really all hopeless now i’ll never get better. i’m graduating college soon and i have 1 friend#1 friend who has so many others 1 friend who i hurt just like all the others 1 friend who will become 1 less very soon#i lose everyone i’ve ever loved because the closer they get to me the more they realize i’m not someone to get close to#i’m not a good person. i don’t have anything to offer anyone. i only hurt people in the end.#the journey isn’t worth it if the destination is always hell and tsunamis and hurricanes and earthquakes#i’m a walking natural disaster you never know when everything will suddenly turn to shit with me.#u cant appreciate the setting sun when ur buried 6 feet under the dirt. u can’t remember the warmth i gave when i left you with that cold#i’m the worst i’m the worst i can’t believe it’s all my fault i lost so many and they never want to be my friend again#my future is so bleak i’m going to work and die alone at age 27 by the latest and#i’m already thinking abt how no one is invited to my funeral i want to be burned and become a tree i don’t want to be mourned#don’t mourn the loss of someone that needed to be lost. don’t come to my funeral if ones even there#i’ll die alone and i’ll be incinerated alone in death just as i’d done to myself in life only this time no one will be near enough#near enough to get scorched by the flames with me#i want to write letters to the one i hurt the most and tell her how good she is and how i wish i could take back every cruel word i said#u never did anything mean or cruel to me i remember sitting in your freshman year dorm bed with you across from me#when you told me a secret you never told anyone else before . and i remember looking at you and feeling that surge of double sided heat#the heat of hatred for the ones that hurt you and the heat of passion and promise in my body to make sure to always protect you#i will never hurt you i will always make sure you can feel safe with me i’ll be here always when you need me i’ll protect you#i’ll never hurt you . because you’ve been hurt enough. you trusted me enough to tell me abt the thing that haunted u most#and the heat of hatred i felt for the one that hurt you suddenly came hurling back into my face and i#i despise myself even more for forgetting my promise to you that quiet day with the sun setting and your soft blankets & sweet scented room#you said i was your first friend at school and we were already months into the semester#i was scared of you at first but when we got close i wanted so badly for you to consider me as best of a friend as i considered you#i loved you and i hurt you and you told me it didn’t matter but it matters to me you don’t know the promises i made to you#you don’t know which promise i broke. that broken promise haunted me ever since i found out what had happened that night .#i felt guilty for being near you i didn’t understand why you’d sit next to me in my bed so close and watch that show with me i couldn’t#i hated myself for hurting u. i couldn’t be around u without choking on guilt. so i pushed u away to keep u safe. but that only hurt u more.#ramblings
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neil-gaiman · 3 months
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Hi Neil,
Regardless of if you ever see this I’ll be happy the sentiment was put there.
As I got into adulthood I lost touch with many of my interests and hobbies. Things like study and work seemed to take over my life and I forgot about many of the things I enjoyed that kept me sane as a child.
But after watching and reading Good Omens I’ve done 4 things:
1. Picked up the piano again after 10 years not playing just so I could learn the theme song. I’ve been at it for months and I’m usually terrible at sticking to things but I’ve promised a friend we are going to do a duet with them playing the kazoo so I have to now obviously
2. I started to draw again on a regular basis
3. I started to write again for the first time since I was a kid and found I actually have quite a passion for it. I’d like to publish at least one book some day with my own illustrations
4. I retuned to tumblr and was pleasantly surprised to find such a wonderful fandom who all love this story as much as I do. And I think it’s wonderful you are also here to watch us all adore it. And so that we can send our appreciation back to you and everyone else involved in making it come to life.
The love and care you and Terry have put into it is so clear. This story and seeing how you interact with the fandom reminded me of how important story telling and creation is to the world. And its lead me back to many things I’d thought I had lost. So thanks to you and every other creative out there, it’s easy to get stuck in our bubble and think what we’re putting out there doesn’t matter. But if you or Terry had given in to that kind of thinking we wouldn’t have Good omens! And that’s something I like to think about when I doubt what I make.
That makes me very happy.
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bluebeary-jay · 7 months
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Damage done
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Pre/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: during a fight with Joel, he unknowingly sends you into a panic attack caused by your previous experiences. he deeply regrets it. (based on this wonderful ask!)
Tags: heavy ANGST, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending (there's also fluff), established relationship, petnames, soft!Joel (he's trying his best fr 🥺). Several years pre outbreak. please read the warnings carefully
Warnings: fighting, talk and mention about previous abusive relationship, panic attack, emotional distress, self-destructive thoughts
Word count: 4K
A/N: i wrote it partially based on experiences with my own panic attacks, but i know everyone's is different. if there's a warning i missed, please let me know. also i want this man to take care of me so much 😢 anyway, stay safe, darlings, and as always: happy reading and i hope you'll enjoy!! 💕 comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 😌
It had been a rough couple of weeks. Things at your work were rocky to say the least, what with your boss firing several people every week and cutting your salary. Joel didn’t have it much better – from what you understood, two clients suddenly canceled their order, and Tommy got himself thrown into jail, again, breaking his longest record to date. On top of that, little Sarah went down with some kind of flu that was raging in schools recently, and for the last two weeks one of you had to be home with her almost all the time.
So it was probably no wonder that the tension and stress became too much at one point, and you both snapped.
It was about the play at Sarah’s school.
“You promised her, Joel! She was talking about it for the entire week.”
“It’s not my fault we have to go out of town on this date,” he answered through clenched teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose and not looking up at you. “I tried to reschedule, but the commissioning party refused. I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake.”
You were glad Sarah wasn’t home right now to listen to your fight. You dropped her off earlier at her friend’s house because she wanted to practice lines for the play they were doing next week. The play that Joel was apparently planning to miss.
You adored Joel – god, you loved him with all that you had – but he could be so stubborn sometimes, it was driving you up the fricking wall.
“It’s your kid, Joel–”
“Yeah, it’s my kid!” he raised his voice, only now lifting his head. His stare was cold and hard, so unlike how he usually looked at you. “Not yours.”
“Are you kidding me?!” you shouted, hurt by his words and the tone he used. “I’ve been taking care of her, loving her– She is like a daughter to me!”
“But still not yours,” he repeated harshly. That was a low blow, especially when he told you so many times that you might not be Sarah’s biological mother, but it’s obvious you love her like she’s your own blood.
“You’re only saying that ‘cause you know I’m right,” you snarled angrily, and Joel huffed a humorless laugh.
“Of course. You always know better, dont’cha?” He stood up, towering over you, but you didn’t back down. If anything, it only made you more mad, as if he was doing this to intimidate you. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible father in your eyes, but I have to think about earning money. Especially since it’s only a matter of time ‘till that asshole boss of yours will fire you, too.”
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! You really think so lowly of me to say it won’t be long until I get fired?”
“I don’t– Christ, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth again.”
“Again. Of course.” You spat out and took your sweatshirt from the couch, done with him and this conversation. “I’m going to my home,” you told him dryly. Joel’s nostrils flared and he took a step forward.
“No, you’re not.”
“Fuckin’ watch me,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
“We are not finished!!” Joel screamed, his booming voice echoing throughout the house.
It felt like a slap. In one second you froze, all your muscles seized up and a feeling of coldness gripped your heart and throat, sending panic flooding your veins. The sweatshirt you were holding slipped out from your stiff fingers.
Joel has never raised his voice at you like that. Never with such anger and fury. There was a bite to his tone that you couldn’t explain, but which you knew very well – the telltale sign that you went too far, and the other person’s patience was at an end, that now you were going to pay for it.
Your previous boyfriend taught you what it means. It meant bruises and split lips, and screaming when you started crying…
Joel noticed the shift in your behavior right away, and his anger immediately ebbed, replaced by confusion and concern.
“Darlin’?” he murmured the pet name, though it rolled off his tongue heavily and with difficulty.
He was still furious at you and your refusal to understand what he was going through, but it all died down when he saw how wide, how empty your eyes were. Your knees buckled, and you looked like you could fall down at any moment.
Joel didn’t have any idea what was happening with you – but knew that whatever it was, it was his fault.
You, in the meantime, felt like you couldn’t breathe. The man in front of you – you weren’t even sure anymore who that was – took a step forward with his hand lifted, and you quickly backed away, stumbling in the process.
“No! N-no, no, please, I’m sorry–” you started blabbering and sobbing, wrapping one arm around your middle to protect all the main internal organs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“No, you didn’t…”
“Please… I’m sorry, I swear,” you cried, trembling at this point, but not daring to escape the room. “I’ll be better, just don’t… Please, don’t…”
Joel’s heart broke when he saw you bursting into tears and trying to make yourself as small as possible. All his anger disappeared in a cloud of smoke, replaced by the overpowering need to comfort the girl he loved.
But you seemed so scared when he wanted to come closer… And he didn’t know how to proceed.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated in an even softer tone, his eyebrows scrunching in worry. “Sweetheart… M’not gonna hurt you.”
He took another slow step forward, but that seemed to already be too much, because the trembling intensified and you practically slumped against the wall, one arm around your stomach, and the other squeezing your throat tightly. Joel feared to know the reason why you would do that to yourself.
“Stop, plea– I can’t– I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“No, it’s okay, my baby, it’s alright…”
He fell down to his knees next to you and reached to take you in his arms, but you started shaking your head violently, backing away and squirming out of his reach.
“No, no, please, I’m sorry! Don’t– don’t touch me!!”
A bile rose up in his throat, and he retreated his hands, holding them low in front of him to show he’s not going to do anything.
“It’s alright, babygirl,” he muttered chokingly, feeling completely helpless and lost about what to do. “You… you’re safe.”
You were crying uncontrollably now, though it seemed like you tried to stifle the never-ending sobs and tears flowing out of your eyes, in result making your entire body shake. You flinched – actually flinched – when Joel opened his mouth, and your fingers around your throat tightened their grip.
“No,” Joel said decisively, breaking your wish and grabbing your wrists, moving them away from your neck where red crescents started to form. “Baby, please, don’t.”
“Let go!!” It was hard to distinguish the words from between your cries, but the message your body language was conveying was clear as day. “No, don’t… me…” You sobbed again, quickly weakening despite your efforts. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“Come ‘ere,” Joel whispered in a voice full of pain, carefully shifting closer and wrapping his arms around you, though being careful not to make you feel too crowded or trapped. “Shhh… it’s Joel, darlin’, m’here.”
Surprisingly, you let him hold you – maybe it was just because you didn’t have strength to resist and fight back anymore, Joel thought, but maybe you recognized him. Maybe it was both. But the tears didn’t stop. No matter how gently he stroked your back or whispered reassuring words, you couldn’t seem to stop crying.
Several times in the next couple of minutes you tried to grasp your neck or arm again, but every time he delicately, though firmly, moved them away. You still babbled half-intelligible apologies and pleas, and each time your voice broke or hitched on another fearful word, Joel’s heart was shattering into a million pieces all over again.
“I’m sorry…” you sobbed again, trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, don’t hurt me, p-please–...”
“My darlin’...” Joel held you closer and more securely in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Sweetheart, my sweet, sweet girl… I’m never gonna hurt you, I swear.” He planted soft, delicate kisses on your hair. Even though he wanted to hug you tightly, to show you how much he loves and cares about you, he restrained himself and tried to keep his touch as gentle as possible. “I swear, my babygirl, m’sorry, so sorry for screamin’... Didn’t mean to.”
You were still crying, albeit weaker now, in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. Joel could feel your nails digging themselves into the skin of his back, but it was the furthest thing on his mind – hell, he could start bleeding and still it wouldn’t be as important as comforting you at this moment. Better him than you.
“I love you s’much, my babygirl, my life,” Joel continued murmuring into the top of your head, feeling close to crying himself when your tears seemingly couldn’t stop flowing. “M’so sorry. I won’t ever hurt you like that again, I swear…”
His words, though full of love and compassion, rolled off you like water off a duck’s back, and you still couldn’t locate yourself, couldn’t tether your being to this world and make sense of the difference between what you knew should happen, and what was actually happening.
Your whole body was hurting, yes, but it wasn’t the pain of being repeatedly hit. You could barely hear your own cries, but it wasn’t because of vicious and cruel words being thrown at you. You knew it was Joel you were clinging to, and he never hurt you in this way, but… but you also were never so angry at each other. You never fought like this – and experience taught you that crossing that invisible line will carry certain consequences.
You weren’t angry now. You were scared. And confused.
“Joel,” you whimpered between gasps, struggling to breathe through your rapid sobs. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t– don’t go.”
“M’not leavin’ ya, babygirl.” He spoke into your hair, closing his eyes. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”
You were calming down a little now, the sobs wrecking your body and breaking Joel’s heart dying down, though you were still shivering. Joel continued to hold and soothe you the best he could.
And wondered who must’ve hurt his darling so much that you’d react so badly.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a while, sniffling into Joel’s chest, but trying not to get snots on his shirt. Joel sighed sadly, but his hold on you just tightened.
“No, babygirl, my darlin’...” He pressed his lips to your hairline, stroking your back with his other hand. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, I swear. It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” you whimpered pitifully, unable to stop another wave of tears from falling. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I know… Joel, I know you won’t hurt me. Baby, please.” You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes with fear painted across your face. “I’m so sorry, wasn’t thinking and…”
“Hey. Love, it’s fine.” He placed his own hands on your cheeks, stroking lightly your damp skin with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. M’not angry at you and would never be because of that. It’s… it’s okay.” He petted your hair, trying to relax for your sake, but his chest remained tight. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”
You nodded weakly, though you weren’t sure if you believed him. Joel swallowed heavily and nodded after a while, too.
“Okay. I… I’ll run you a bath,” he whispered, but you held his hand tighter and shook your head with tears gathering in your eyes again.
“No, no! Just s-stay with me, please.”
Joel took your face in his hands, but you closed your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and exhausted to even try to maintain eye contact.
“I’m here, baby. C’mon, just hold onto me.”
He waited until your arms were around his neck before slowly standing up and tucking you securely in his arms. You hid your wet face in the crook of Joel’s neck, breathing in his soothing smell and trying to calm your breathing, which you still found difficult.
Neither of you said anything when he took you to the bathroom, sat down on the toilet seat and started to fill the bathtub with water and soothing oils. You just watched him, wiping your nose every once in a while.
Still remaining silent, Joel extended his hand and helped you stand up. Then, almost with fearful hesitation, he touched the hem of your shirt, sending you a questioning look. You just nodded, not having strength to undress yourself, and lifted your arms, letting him take your clothes off.
You didn’t let go of his hand even after he guided you to sit in the tub. You couldn’t bear being alone with your thoughts right now, and Joel, being as wonderful of a man as he was, stayed by your side as the warmth from the water seeped through your tired bones.
Another several minutes passed before he finally asked the question that was gnawing at him since the very beginning. You must’ve subconsciously known it was coming, cause it didn’t even surprise you.
“Who was it?” he asked quietly. His hand was still caressing your palm with the gentlest of touches, but his eyes were like ice, full of hidden rage and hatred. “Who did this to you, darlin’?”
You wrapped your arms around yourself, not sure whether to answer or not. Ever since you got to know him, Joel has been nothing but kind and understanding, never pressuring you into doing or saying something you didn’t want… but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let the matter drop.
And honestly, you were afraid to tell him. To admit how your previous relationship looked and what exactly happened to make you act so strongly about something so small. Because… what if he’ll realize how broken you are, how much effort it’d take to put up with you, and he’ll leave? Even if he was willing to take care of you, it was really unlikely that he’d stay – even if he says that now.
You were doing good until today. You managed to hide the issues you had with yourself and all the pain you carried inside, never letting Joel know that something was wrong with you. But now he… he will…
You didn’t want him to leave. He made your life so much better and you loved him to pieces with all your heart, as weak and broken as it was.
You couldn’t lose him.
“Oh, baby…” Joel’s hands cupped your cheeks so carefully and lovingly that you almost started weeping again. “M’not goin’ anywhere. I love ya so much. You’re never gonna lose me.”
You didn’t realize you said those words out loud, but even so, somehow his affirmations didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted them to comfort you, but if anything, they just made you feel sick.
“I’m afraid you’re gonna leave someday,” you whispered hoarsely, keeping your eyes on the slowly disappearing bubbles. “I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want you to. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Joel. I…” Tears spilled from your eyes again and you shook your head. “I know I’m too much. And… and broken. And I know it sounds like I wanna guilt-trip you, but I’m not, I’m just–” You choked on a sob, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t– don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” Joel’s hands were rough to the touch, but so incredibly gentle when they guided you to meet his eyes, and a big pit formed in your stomach when you saw how they shone. He was on the verge of tears, too. “Don’t say things like that. Nothin’ is wrong with you. Who…” He sighed again. “Who made you believe such things?”
You didn’t answer at first, but Joel kept staring at you, and – finally – you relented.
“My previous boyfriend. The one I didn’t want to talk about. He– Look, I know he was a horrible person.” You let out a short laugh, but without any joy – or emotions altogether – in it. “And I hate him so much, but he… he was right. About some things.”
“He’s not.” Joel didn’t back down, feeling despair growing inside his chest as he saw the girl he adored with his whole heart put herself down like that. “You’re… fuck, you’re perfect, darlin’, and you didn’t deserve to be treated or talked to this way. M’so sorry it happened to you.”
He brushed some of your hair to the back and sighed silently. He seemed so lost and sad, it made you feel even worse.
“What can I do?”
That stopped the train of your thoughts, and you looked up.
“What?”
“What can I do?” he repeated softly. “To prove t’you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Your lips parted, and you were unsure what to say. Joel took your hand in his, delicately tracing patterns on the back of it.
“Babygirl, listen to me. You’re the most precious thing t’me. I don’t care what this asshole told you, but… but none of this is true. And it’s not gonna drive me away from you. Nothin’ is gonna make me leave,” he repeated more firmly, never taking his eyes off you. “Because I love you. More than anythin’ else in the world”
Joel sounded so sincere and desperate, tugging at your heartstrings with his gentle, sad eyes and loving words. The water became cool some time ago, but your insides felt like they were on fire – as if the next breath you were about to take would be your last.
“I’m sorry for everything I said.” You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think you’re the best and most amazing dad Sarah could ever ask for. I didn’t want…” You sniffed and your shoulders started to shake again with silent cries. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”
The sob that you tried to stop with all your might suddenly escaped you, and Joel’s forehead scrunched in worry. He pulled you closer, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. Neither of you concerned yourself with water dripping off your skin, only feeling relieved from each other’s closeness.
“I know, babygirl. M’not mad.” Joel left a lingering kiss on your tearstained cheek, and then a second one on your forehead. “I’m sorry, too. For how I acted and for–” he sighed heavily into your shoulder, “for shouting at ya.”
“You couldn’t have known,” you mumbled, but he shook his head.
“That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t ‘ave done it in the first place.” He relaxed in your arms, and somehow it made your muscles less tense, too. “I’ll see what I can do about that job. So that I can see Sarah’s play.”
You nodded and let your eyelids drop, giving in to the feeling of calm and security that always came with being with Joel.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” you asked quietly. You still were a little afraid that he’s going to turn you down after what happened, but you really didn’t want to stay alone. “With you?”
“‘Course you can. D’ya want to go now?”
You nodded again. Not bathing seemed like a big waste of water, but you didn’t feel strong enough to actually wash your body. And Joel didn’t pressure you – he just bent over and wrapped his strong arms around you, practically pulling you out of the tub by himself.
His clothes were completely soaked when he put you down and reached for the fluffiest towel you had, wrapping it around you like a little cocoon. He got rid of his wet shirt, kissed your head gently and, without a word, scooped you up into his arms again.
“I can stand,” you offered when he started walking towards the bedroom, forcing you to wrap your hands around his neck for support.
“I want to take care of you.”
“But your back pains…”
“I’m not that old yet, sweetheart,” he answered with a half-smile, slowing down and gazing into your eyes softly. “Let me take care of you.”
You brushed his cheek with your fingertips tenderly, eyes flickering across his face. “But you’re always taking care of everyone, Joel.”
His throat bobbed and he almost immediately looked away. It was clear what he was thinking – that according to himself, he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Because you got hurt. Because he was the one who unintentionally hurt you and sent you into a panic attack.
He was silent when he put you down on the bed with care, turning around to fetch one of his shirts from the closet. During this whole time you didn’t say anything, either. Your mind was still a little closed off from when you tried to separate yourself from the painful memories that started to haunt you, and despite Joel’s efforts, it was still difficult to move past the experience.
But your head snapped up when Joel, after helping you put the shirt on, knelt in front of you, took your hand in his and leaned forward to kiss your knee gently.
“M’sorry,” Joel whispered with pain tinging his deep voice. “I’m sorry for sayin’ all those things about you and Sarah. I know you love her.” He pressed his lips to your knee again, and lifted his head, revealing how misty his own eyes were, which in turn made your heart ache even more. “My sweet girl. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” you answered quietly, but Joel shook his head and took a deep breath.
“What can I do?” he repeated his question from earlier, and this time you knew exactly what you needed him for.
“Can you… can you hold me?”
Without missing a beat, Joel raised from his position and enveloped you in his embrace, making you feel safe and protected like never before. You sighed heavily, breathing in his scent and feeling like just by touching you with such love that only he was capable of, he helped you to lift some invisible load from your shoulders.
Despite the headache from all the crying and your chest still tightening with every shallow breath you took, you felt a little better now. You didn’t feel alone.
You knew you were safe with Joel.
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It took some time for you to fall asleep, but even when you did, Joel could not find peace in the silky darkness of the evening.
Before you dozed off, Joel vowed again and again how much you mean to him, how you and Sarah are the best things that ever happened to him, and how he’ll never let anything happen to any of you – and he could clearly see that you believed his every word, and that you weren’t mad at him. You weren’t flinching when he rocked you back and forth, or later when he pressed small kisses to your forehead.
But you still were quiet and your face miserable, and several times Joel tucked you in closer to himself when he felt you shaking and sniffing. There wasn’t anything else he could do but hold you and whisper soothing promises into your hair. Once your eyelids started to drop, he began humming a familiar melody he knew you liked, and you nuzzled your face into his neck, curling up in his embrace.
And you whispered ‘I love you’ before you drifted off to an uneasy sleep in his arms. And before he could even answer, you thanked him for loving you.
When he heard it, he had to keep himself from breaking down with the last bit of his strength.
“You mean everythin’ to me, love. Everythin’,” he murmured after a couple of seconds, not even knowing if you were still awake. The guilt in his chest made it hard to breathe, but he pushed through it, and then he softly kissed your forehead, making a promise to himself.
He will find time to go to Sarah’s play with you. And he’ll make it right.
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hazelfoureyes · 21 days
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Someone nice, Somewhere safe
Angel x Virgin Female Reader
જ⁀➴ Angel x Virgin Male Reader - Someone nice, somewhere safe*
*same story, just your bits and bobbles are changed 
You let it slip to the group you were a virgin, and instead of laughing, Angel grabs you before bed to offer a friendly hand.
.<Warnings/Promises: Angel Dust x Virgin Female!Reader, smut, fingering, lubed to the gods, Angel uses four arms, Valentino is a blind bag of smashed assholes, creampie, oral, the gentlest sex I’ve ever written (probably), an alarming towel>
listen here virgins, if I could craft a perfect first time for you, this is it. Minus the lack of condoms because—it’s hell? Sex workers are tested bi-weekly?? This is still a fantasy??? Just if anything, please take from this the importance of a safe and trusting environment at all times 🙏  
minor dni (shoo! get outta here! Go on, git! 🧹)
You thought everyone would laugh when you said you were a virgin. The group awe’d and said it was cute, which was definitely better than the response you’d gotten in the overworld. But when you said you’d never actually orgasmed before, everyone just looked… sad? The conversation was quickly derailed by Angel launching into a list of wildest orgasm faces he’s seen, Charlie leaving the room entirely.
Continuing with the evening’s theme of surprise, you hadn’t expected Angel to catch up to you when everyone was filing off to bed. His hand gently reached for your wrist, “Hey ya got a sec?”
 For Angel, the epitome of smiling through the pain, you’d give him the remainder of your time in hell if he just asked. Every second, his.“Always!”
“So uh”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “about bein’ a virgin and all that.” Your stomach dropped, was the famous porn star about to embarrass you into a second death?“I think it’s real important that like— knowin’ yourself, and what makes you feel good is like super healthy. I dunno if you are interested in that kinda stuff but,” he was wildly moving his hands round, nervously stumbling over his words, “I’d be happy to help ya out.”
All of the blood rushed to your face.
“Oh fuck!” Angel grabbed your head and tipped it forward, “I would have accepted a simple no, jesus!” With one hand pinching your nose, he led you into his room just down the hall. 
What— what was happening, exactly? At all? In general? With your entire existence?
He kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed a handful of tissues, “Keep your head forward. Everyone who says tilt it back is an idiot.”
His hand was red when he drew it from your face, using his other hand to now hold tissues between his fingers as he pinched your nose shut.
“Is- is my nose bleeding??” Your voice cracked.
“Does that happen often?”
“Never.”
“Well I got to help you with at least one first, right?” Angel laughed, moving his hands away as you took over the task.
Oh, right. The offer. You glanced around the room, small but lived-in. Everything was pink and purple and soft.
“Angel, do you think because you’re a sex worker, you have to help me?” The room fell silent. Angel completely still beside you. You would love someone you could trust to take your virginity, but you would never want to use Angel like so many other people did on a daily basis.
“Ya know— a lot of people get real confused about this.” He sighed, chest heavy with the many misconceptions others had, “What I do for work, what I gotta do to get through the day, has nothin’ to do with who I am as a person.” You turned to look at him, “Why should I limit my experiences because of what other people have done to me?” The words hit you like a truck. You had unintentionally boxed him into his job, in turn into his trauma, summing him up as a warm body and incapable of any depth past that. Just a sex worker.
“No, no I didn’t mean anything like that. I just, I don’t want to ever,” you grabbed two of his hands, “ever take advantage of your kindness.” You squeezed, “or any part of you.”
His frown turned up, “We’re dead, yea, but you still exist. If you want to, you should enjoy every part of your afterlife. And I’d hate you to meet some asshole who’s too rough or doesn’t get ya warmed up first. A bad first time can be really traumatizin’.”
You nodded without actually thinking. Your brain wasn’t really processing meaning, his words were just soft and kind and your nose still stuffed full of tissue.
“Do you wanna?”
You nodded more vigorously, “Did my nose start bleeding again?”
Angel took the tissue away, giving a second to see, “Nope.”
Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay. Yeah, I want that. Someone nice, somewhere safe.”
“It ain’t quite nice but-,” Angel looked around his room.
“It’s perfect, Angel.”
“Aw fuck, I should clean up,” he hurriedly carried trash from his nightstand, flattening out the comforter and adjusting his pillows. He placed fat nuggets on the floor with a little pat on the head.
Finally, he stood in front of you, two hands on his hips, two gesturing to you.
“Alright baby! Let’s pop some cherries! Undress~” he elongated the word, shimmying his hips a little, “-to your comfort level.” He began to unbutton his blazer, “Bare minimum, take off your pants and underwear, please and thank you. Though I have fucked through underwear…” He was momentarily lost in a memory.
You hadn’t anticipated getting naked in front of a friend tonight. But Angel so effortlessly shed his clothes, peeling off his gloves. Pulling off your pants, you paused.
“Is it weird if I keep my shirt on? Like— do you know who Winnie the Pooh is?”
“Nothin’ weird about bein’ comfortable, pookie.” He pinched your cheek, “I’d offer a modesty blanket but I kinda need to see what I’m doing.” His eyes flitted to the left, “No, wanna. I wanna see.” Angel’s laugh relaxed you, the idea of anyone wanting to see you made you feel a little less—-naked. Still, your hands seemed frozen on your underwear’s edge.
With a hum, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “Go on, lie down. I’ll help ya relax. This is already feeling too medical-like.”
Were you going to need a towel? Were you going to need a towel?? Were you going to need a towel!?
You sat back on his bed, and when he crawled up to meet you, all legs and arms and Angel Dust, you buried your face in your hands.
“Oh hey—,” his voice was so soft, lacking its usual sass, “Wanna just, cuddle and watch stupid shit on my phone?” You groaned, face sinking further down. This would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. You could at least take a backseat, then.
You shook your head, and felt his hand on your ankle. It snaked up your calf, slipped down your knee and thigh, finding the waistband of your underwear. When you looked up from your hiding place, Angel was a foot from your face. His features lit only by the purple neon signs hanging beside his bed and near the door. He lifted his brows, a question he didn’t need to vocalize. You sank back into the purple and pink pillows, different sizes, different textures, gently enveloping you.
With two hands now, he slide off your underwear. You might die, again. Your heart would give out any second, incapable of handling the moment. You were manually breathing.
He lifted your hips with two hands, a third sliding the towel beneath you before setting you back down.
“Do ya-,” he was rummaging now inside the nightstand drawer, “not play with yourself? Ever?”
“Not really. Not like, there.”
“Whaddya do with all your free time?” His short but enthusiastic laughter forced a smile to your cheeks. Angel slid the drawer shut and came to rest in front of your tightly shut thighs and knees. You heard a cap pop, and found the courage to sit up and see what he was doing.
“What?” He squeezed a clear, thick lubricant onto his right hand, “Nerves can make holes dry like nothin’ else. No fun for no one, trust me. Could start a fuckin’ fire—- and spit ain’t lube!” Angel said it like he spoke from a personal experience.
Ah, the towel. That made sense now.
“Should I do something?”
“Just lie back, baby~,” he opened your knees and followed your face as you settled back down, “Do you like kissin’?”
You’d kiss a trashcan if Angel said it got him hot, so, “Yeah.”
“Good,” One hand touched your cheek, sliding to your chin as he brought your lips to his. You thought you’d melt, his hands so soft on you, lips confident and sure. He used his thumb on your chin to pull down your bottom lip and ask you for entrance. When you opened up to him, his tongue slid into yours as his sticky wet hand finally came into contact between your legs. Two fingers rubbing the lube up and a down your pussy.
You nearly inhaled him with your shock, he giggled into it, “You’re so cute.” You twitched under his hand, “Ooh, and reactive! Daddy likes.”
Stop. Stop talking. I’m going to black out.
His mouth returned to yours, tongue over your tongue, as his fingers just massaged your entrance. No attempt at entering, no prodding, just gentle up and down motions. Slowly, your felt your skin heating beneath his hand, the lubricant somewhat melting with your warmth.
At work, Angel was never the lead. Never the top, and never afforded time to ease anyone open. He had no issues with sleeping with women, it was just usually for money or a shoot. Not his preferred flavor, but he could still get it up. Watching you sigh and twitch under him felt like a treat. Such a sweet response to what so many people made unnecessarily dirty at work. He wasn’t shocked to find his cock twitching, swelling as your breathing hitched with every stroke of his hand. When was the last time he could just… slow down? Be the one in control? Not control like Val, control like—- can I get you a pillow? Is the pacing good? Let’s soften these lights.  Hold my hand, sweetheart.
His head felt a little dizzy. His middle finger pressed now, and with a slow but constant motion entered you. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the best word. Your body tensed around him, but he gently pressed passed your virgin walls. He hummed, “First one down! Atleast,” he paused, “two more to go.”
“Atleast??” You shook your head.
“It’s sex math, trust the professional in the room.” He withdrew the finger and slid it back in, starting a slow pace of long drags from knuckle to fingertip.
It didn’t hurt, to his credit. The excitement of having Angel touching you so intimately made the finger easier to relax into. Angel must have noticed, his finger leaving you. He popped the top again of his lube and pressed in two fingers. This was harder. You whined, his fingertips pushing past the tight entrance of your cunt and settling into the wet warmth behind.
Lying on your back, you stared at the now upside-down photos behind his bed. He looked so happy. Could you join that wall? Was this wall worthy?
“You still good?” He leaned over you, fingers  moving.
You nodded, “Can I have another kiss?”
Ah, you might as well have punched him in the chest. “Of course, darlin’~ Ask and you shall receive.” You liked kissing, genuinely, but were always scared you’d kiss someone too long and end up in an awkward situation having to explain you weren’t wanting sex. But that fear was all gone, you’d broken the code. Get naked first, then kiss.
You smiled into his mouth, and he smiled back, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
“I like kissing you.” You leaned up, pressing your lips to his chin. His fingers quickened, and you moaned without warning. You felt your self grip his finger, nervousness slinking away and finally letting you feel aroused.
“Ooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he leaned back, repeating the same steps and trying to press a third finger into you. His abundance of hands were a blessing, one at your entrance, one on your knee to keep your shaking legs open, and two roaming down the sides of your body. When three fingers finally entered, you could feel the burning stretch of your skin around them. He pushed in, and the skin followed. He pulled out, your sensitive hole pulling too. The hand on your knee came to your crotch, his palm pressing lightly down on your clit. You glanced up to him, his eyes focused as he watched his fingers slowly drag in and out of you. It burned still, but just past that burning was a slippery sensation that made your lap warm with the rush of blood.
He let his fingers sink in entirely, before bending and feeling inside you. Your knee jumped when he hit something.
“Bingo! Say hello to your g-spot.” He beamed down at you, gold tooth shining, “Not everyone needs it to cum but oooh boooy does it maximize pleasure,” it sounded so pornographic when he said it.
You weakly copied, “B-bingo.” 
“Three fingers means I can do this now~” he replaced his palm with his fingers,  sticky with lube. His long digits were fast and practiced as he rubbed your clit. “Sex math. Dont need your virgin pussy locking up on me.” He said quietly to himself, fingers in and out of you picking up speed. Your head was pressing into the pillows as your neck strained, you’d never masturbated while someone, something, penetrated you. Every stroke of his fingers made your body spasm, the feeling of something hard and unforgiving pushing back against your quivering walls made a pleasure you couldn’t describe.
“Feelin’ good yet?” The way he said it, he knew damn well how you were feeling.
You whimpered into one of the pillows, “Yeah, it’s starting to feel good.” A weak nod.
Angel’s grin bordered on wicked, hand slowing. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your clit. Then another. His tongue flattened against his bottom lip as he dragged it over your sensitive bud of nerves.
You moaned, a half spoken-half cried, “Oh fuck, Angel-.” Hips bucking up, his fingers kept their place and followed. You humped up against his tongue, ground down into his fingers; up, down. Soft tongue, rigid fingers.
“Like that? Watch this,” He cupped his mouth over your clit and began strumming it with his tongue. Fat and flat, then thin and sharp. His fingers slowed, now just bending to hit your soft g-spot again and again. 
One hand held tightly to the pillow, the other coming to Angel’s hair. Your body kept jumping away from overstimulation but you fought against it every time and tried to grind against his face.
He lifted his mouth off you with a deliberate pop, “Feelin’ good?” You nodded, eyes closed. “Ready for the real thing?”
“Yeah. I want to feel more, Angel.” It came out as more of a whine than you meant.
His hand came to his erection, red and leaking. Stroking himself, he returned to massaging at your entrance, fingers dipping in then out.
“You comfortable with getting on your knees? This position ain’t so conducive for what I’m tryin’ to do.”
Somehow, ass up sounded better than face to face, “You’re the expert.” You rolled onto your stomach, hips up, face resting into the sea of pillows. You paused, lifted off your now sweaty shirt, and got back into position. 
“Sexpert, but thank you!” The lid popped open again, cold and viscous lube being dripped directly onto pussy, “Finally some recognition around here.” He coated himself with what was still on his hands, and raised your hips to line himself up.
“Deep breaths, okay?” He leaned over your back, kisses falling down your skin. Two hands held your hips, one guided himself into you. You tensed when his head began to push in, “Relaaax, just like the fingers.”
A muffled, “okay” from your place in the pile. Your heart was suddenly racing, the tight coil of pleasure his mouth summoned now gone. He wiped his dick up and down your folds, swiping past your entrance. Lining up, he pushed in, getting his head firmly sunk into you.
“Breath, baby,” he moaned into your shoulder. You took a deep breath in, your body tight still. But, it didn’t hurt like you’d thought. It burned, but there was no sting, no tearing. Angel’s hands ran up and down your sides, along you ass and thighs. He gently touched everywhere he could reach, until he felt you soften, “Ready to keep going?”
“Yes please”, you turned your head to look at him.
He pulled out slightly to collect more lube on his shaft, before slowly sinking into you until he bottomed out.
You were gasping, your brain misfiring. You couldn’t feel anything but him, your body just a formless thought with Angel’s warm, solid cock reaching deeper into than you thought possible. One roaming hand reached for your shoulder, “Can I move?”
“Slow,” your hand searched for a loose fold of comforter to grip, but it was soon encased and intertwined by one of his.
He pulled out, and slowly thrust back in. A saccharine moan fell from his mouth, and it made you whimper. 
You were so soft around him, yet gripping him so snuggly he felt like he was melting into your walls. His breath was unsteady, “You feel so good on my cock, baby.” A burning blush took over your face, a rush of pleasure electrifying your clit.
“How ya doin’?” Angel sounded nervous, timid.
You had to collect saliva to get any words out, mouth running dry from panting, “S’good.” You tried again, “So good.” Your fingers tightened around his.
He adjusted his hips, watching you closely. When your eyes closed and your hand nearly broke his, he grinned down, “Bingo~,” his speed began to pick up. 
“Right there,” you whimpered, “please don’t stop, right there Angel.” You dragged out the last syllable of his name. You could feel a pressure building in your lower stomach. 
Angel took languid thrusts out to the tip and pushing back past your still resisting entrance. Every time he pulled out and slipped in felt better than before. The sensations of him opening you around his cock again and again had your stomach and thighs tensing. You brought your hand up to press at your clit, finger frantically moving. You felt something building, you were desperate to reach its climax.
Angel’s hand came down and pushed yours aside, his fingers strong and not shaking with your impending orgasm. 
“Almost- Angel pleeeease! Don’t stop- keep—” You squeezed his hand tighter, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower. His repeated pressing of your g-spot pushed you over the edge, hand slowing only slightly.
"You can do it, baby. Come on. Almost there~" His words fell apart in his mouth, his own moans getting louder, your cunt tightening in spasms as your first orgasm tore through you. Your body was so inviting, warm walls sucking his head deeper. He rarely got to feel this sensation, barely ever chosen as the one doing the fucking, let alone fucking a woman. His head rested against your back, hands running along the curve of your hips as he melted into your sweet heat.
He picked up speed, only drawing out an inch or so now with each thrust. The lube made a pop and squelch every time his skin pulled from yours, the sound making his legs weak.
“Where can I cum?” His breath was raspy, messy with the pleasure of your soft insides rubbing along his shaft. You gripped the blanket, orgasm still rolling from the feeling of Angel chasing his release with your body. You could hear the strain in his voice, “Gonna need an answer real fast, babe.” You hid your face in the pillow mountain again, embarrassed to answer.
“Inside,” you tried to say it loudly enough for him to hear.
He whimpered a, “Fuuuuck” down your spine, “Such a dirty little virgin.” His hips stuttered before he sunk into you with such force your legs gave out. Your body came down flush onto the bed. Angel was pressed into you, chest against your back as his breathing calmed. You could feel his heart through your ribs, his chest fluff silky on your skin. Your body was warm, his hot cum filling you.
Small, lazy kisses on your back, then up your neck, he leaned to kiss your cheek. He slid out of you delicately, but you didn’t move.  His weight left the bed, then returned as a warm, wet cloth wiped you clean. After a couple of minutes of gentle cleaning, you felt the throw blanket cover your back. Angel plopped down on his back beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs and unlocking his phone, “Wanna see this fuckin’ hilarious video of my boss runnin’ into a glass wall?”
You chuckled, “More than anything.” He side eyed you, “Well, not anything.”
“Right answer, toots,”  One of his hands came down and settled on your hair, he leaned in to your head and as you watched Valentino collide head first into a wall, he said softly, “Let me know if you need anything. I got a bitchin’ tub in there.”
You hummed, reaching a shakey hand up and pressing ‘replay’ on his phone. Angel’s laughter echoed off the walls, and you decided you had no plans on leaving bed anytime soon.
༻Masterlist༺
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4theitgirls · 2 months
Text
a beginner’s guide to yoga
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🧘‍♀️ what is yoga?
putting it briefly, yoga is a mindfulness and spiritual practice that connects the mind, body, and breath through physical movement and poses called “asanas.”
🧘‍♀️ benefits of yoga
yoga has some incredible benefits for both the mind and body, including:
reducing mental stress and calming the mind
improving flexibility and mobility
working and strengthening even the small muscles in the body
improving circulation and heart health
allowing you to be present and mindful
improving balance and coordination
activating or calming the nervous system
reducing body pain
improving range of motion and joint health
🧘‍♀️ different types of yoga
there are many different types of yoga, each with their own unique benefits. here are just a few you may start with:
vinyasa
hatha
ashtanga
yin
restorative
🧘‍♀️ where do i start?
if you do not feel ready to go to a class or you do not have a studio near you, there are many classes you can follow on youtube! here are a few channels on youtube i really like:
akshaya agnes
boho beautiful yoga
charlie follows
gayatri yoga
jessica richburg
the glow method
yoga with kassandra
yoga with kate amber
🧘‍♀️ personal tips
start slow! i say this in all of my workout posts when i give advice, but i promise it is important. pushing yourself too far in the beginning will only injure you, so don’t be afraid to take it easy at first.
don’t judge yourself. it’s much easier said than done when you see people who have been practicing for years and seem like they can do everything, but everyone has things that they struggle with. i’ve been practicing yoga consistently for 5 years now and there are still things that i struggle with, so don’t be too hard on yourself.
going alone with the tip above, have a sense of humor about your journey. if you fall, it’s perfectly fine. it happens to the best of us! as long as you stay safe and get back up and keep trying, you’re doing great.
switch it up! as mentioned above, there are many types of yoga, and the ones i named are just a few. don’t be afraid to try different types! i used to hate yin because i found it even harder than the more flow-y sequences, but now it’s one of my favorites. it’s always good to get some variety in your practice and you may end up loving something you thought you would hate!
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msgorillagripcoochie · 10 months
Note
hey i was the one who requested the e42miles angst and i love your writing. do you think you could write something where miguel breaks up with reader because they’re gonna disrupt her canon. maybe she’s supposed to fall in love with peter parker on her earth? i just want absolutely heartbreaking angst, maybe it can be a blurb like the miles one.
aaahh im glad you liked the miles one and i hope you like this! im kinda iffy about it. THIS IS VERY UNEDITED SO SORRY FOR ANY SPELLING MISTAKES.
you’re losing me
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© msgorillagripcoochie , do not steal or translate my work
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“are you…are you breaking up with me right now?” your voice breaks, your nails digging into your palms as you watched miguel. he cleared his throat as he tried to find his words and you wanted him to say something, to laugh and say this was a joke. something.
jess gave you an apologetic look “i’ll see you when you’re done.” jess patted miguel’s shoulder before she went through the portal. there’s a pause of silence “miguel…i’m going with you, right?” you hated the tears blurring your vision before you had even said anything.
“you can’t.” he said avoiding your gaze, he looked down at the floor. “what?” you’re taken aback as you stare at him and he cleared his throat “i’m sorry, i’ve been through this before and you can’t- we can’t disrupt the canon.” his finally dragged up to yours and there you could see the faint tears in his eyes “are you serious? you’re making this decision all by yourself?”
“you’re supposed to fall in love with peter parker.” he cleared his throat “by me being with you, it will stop you from falling for him.” his voice is low, it’s almost sounds as hurt as you. “what if i don’t want to fall in love with peter?”
“that’s the problem.”
“so what do you want me to do? i have no one here, i’m just supposed to magically fall in love with peter parker and forget about you?” he doesn’t respond, he can’t, reaching out his hand “give me your watch, y/n.” you hold your hand to your chest in disbelief, holding the wristband against you “you can’t do this! you can’t make this decision for me! this relationship is only half yours.” miguel shakes his head.
“just give it to me!” his voice raises as he tries to sound angry “i can’t let you keep it, you know too many loopholes so give it to me!”
“or what!?” you shoot back not faltering under his dark gaze “this is for the best.”
“you don’t get to decide what’s for the best, okay?” you scoff “i love you.” you admitted in a low whisper “i love you.” miguel’s heart’s racing because that’s all he ever wanted to hear from you but this couldn’t happen. he doesn’t say anything once again and it makes you angry.
“you don’t feel anything for me? is that what you’re going to say now? that all of this is fake?” you threw your hands up as miguel picked his words, he took a step forward “i do love you.” he let out a low chuckle, he reached his hand out brushing some of your hair away from your face pulling you forward leaning his head against yours.
“i love you.” he promised, you smiled placing your hand on his chest “then let’s try, we can figure this all out.” he lifted his head up pressing a kiss to your forehead and you shut your eyes at the feeling.
when you felt his hand tighten around your wrist “miguel.”
“i’m sorry.” he begins to try and take the watch off “let me go!”
“i’m relieving you of your job.” he said finally ripping the watch from your wrist pushing you back“miguel, please!”
“i’m sorry” his large hand engulfs your band.
“stop” you’re begging him through your tears as you realize he’s going to break it “you guys are all i have! please.” you stared into his eyes, the eyes you had grown to love and cherish.
“i’m sorry, mi querida.” he crushed it easily in the palm of his hand as you visibly slump before gulping “i’ll find a way, miguel.” you force a smile “you’re not going to get rid of me.” your smile is turning into a frown. he knows you’re right, you’ve never been the type to give up.
so he has to make sure you will…even if you hate him.
“i am.” you’re confused before he pushes past you making you fall back on the bed and you don’t realize what he’s doing until he rips open the other door to where your spiderwoman gadgets and suit lay by your computer on your desk “no!”
you scream trying to run to him but he pushes you back onto the floor as he begins to break all of your things “no! please!” the crushing sounds of the your things mixes with the sound of your breaking heart as you beg him to stop
and finally you think he’s done until he grabs you suit, the suit you had made with him. you shake your head as he looked back at you for a moment “please.” you pleaded “i won’t come back.” you’re promising and he wants to believe it.
but he knows he can’t.
“i’ll make sure you won’t.” and right in front of you, he tears your suit in half like it’s nothing but a piece of paper. you cover your mouth in low gasp as he turns to you chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths.
for the first time…you looked at miguel like you hated him. you scramble to your feet “i hate you!” you hit him as hard as you could “fuck you!” he let’s you. he let’s you punch and push him until you finally give up dropping down to your knees in front of him.
“i don’t want you to get hurt.” he bends down and reaches out to touch you but you pull back glaring at the man “don’t worry miguel, you’ve hurt me enough to save the universe, right?” he stands to his full height and he wished you’d understand “y/n-“
“just go.” you shake your head and he sighs clicking buttons on his wristband, the portal opening before he looked at you one last time “it’s for the best.”
“if you think that then you’ve truly never loved me.” his heart feels like it’s being rip out of his chest but he doesn’t turn back leaving her behind. his chest is still heaving when he arrives and all he can see is your face “is everything okay?” jess’s voice brings him back and he blinked a few times.
“she won’t be coming back.” he said plainly. jess opened her mouth to ask what happened “it’s over already, let’s just focus.”
he couldn’t stop thinking about your face and the way you looked at him like he was a monster and maybe he was for doing this to you but he had to.
he needed to.
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a/n: uh idk if i liked this too much ☹️ i hate it actually 😭 but i’m sure it’ll grow on me. anyways requests are open!
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mysteryfleshpit · 5 months
Text
FAQ & General Update
“Why haven’t there been any new posts in a long time?” “Is this project dead?” “Trevor get off your ass you lazy hack”
This project isn’t dead! Two major factors have contributed to the relative silence of updates:
1) For the past year, I’ve been taking care of my infant son as the primary at-home caregiver. That won’t mean anything to people who have not been parents, and it wouldn’t have meant anything to me before having a kid, but it turns out that keeping a baby happy, healthy, and entertained is a major drain on your time and energy. Additionally, my office/studio/workspace is also the room he sleeps in (I live in a two-bedroom apartment) so I am limited with how much I can do at night.
2) As many of you know, in June, Fleshpit fans showed up in force to fund the TTRPG kickstarter. In response, I’ve been busy working through a multi-page list of illustrations for the TTRPG book, including wildlife, tools, vehicles, maps, and other ephemera:
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“I missed the Kickstarter, can I still pre-order the TTRPG book?”
Yes! Here’s a link to the pre-order store: https://mysteryfleshpitrpg.backerkit.com/hosted_preorders
“When is the coffee table art book coming out?” “Are you finished with the book?” “What still needs to be finished?”
The main Mystery Flesh Pit coffee table-style book is, like many other projects, paused while I’m working on the TTRPG book. Paid projects take priority! I will continue working on it as soon as I can; much of the art I’m working on for the TTRPG book will also be featured in the coffee table book. The biggest missing piece of the big artbook is the writing. I have much of it finished, but there is still a lot of editing that needs to be done.
“Is spectral haptics still continuing?”
Yes, but see the answers above. Paid projects take priority, and right now Spectral Haptics is third on the list behind the TTRPG and the coffee-table book. There is a possibility of me making time to create a small video for SH if for no other reason than to avoid burnout, but I’m not going to promise anything.
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forever-rogue · 4 months
Note
came out of surgery and was just imagining pre-outbreak joel high on anesthesia, being all cute and flirty with the reader 🥺🥺 can I request that as a fic??? 👉👈
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AN | Oh but this would be one of the funniest situations!
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language; mention of surgery
Word Count | 2.4k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“I can't believe I'm doing this,” Joel huffed, looking at you almost as if to make sure you were really making him go through with it. Not that you'd forced him or anything but…still. He did not want to do this.
“It'll be fine you big baby,” you snorted, kissing his cheek before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the front door. He groaned slightly at the feeling, rubbing at his sore jaw, “and that's exactly why we're doing this. So you're not in constant pain!”
“I’m a grown ass man,” he was grumbling as he followed out to the car, “I’ve lived 35 years with these stupid teeth and I can continue to live with them.”
“It doesn’t matter how old you are - they’re bothering you and I’m tired of hearing you whine about them,” you opened the passenger door to his truck and motioned for him to get, “you’re going to listen to me, Joel Miller.”
“I do - I do not whine,” with that he got into the truck a big pout on his face as you closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.
“It’ll be fine, love. It’ll be done in a few hours, then you can rest and eat ice cream and I’ll take care of you. In a few days to a week you’ll be good as new.”
“But - “
“But nothing,” you turned on the car, “I was in my late twenties when I got mine out a couple of years ago and it was just fine. I survived and you’ll survive.”
“Fine,” he sighed heavily as he stared at the road, “but I want lots of ice cream when it’s done.”
“Then we’ll get all the ice cream, Joel Miller,” you reached over and gave his knee a squeeze, “you big weenie.”
“Stop,” he groaned softly.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Mrs. Miller?”
“Oh, I’m…” you stopped yourself and didn’t bother to correct the dental assistant as you stood up and walked over to her, “how did it go?”
“Everything went just fine,” she explained and you relaxed and let out a small sigh of relief, “no complications at all. I think he’ll heal up just fine.”
“I have no doubt about that,” you watched as she walked back to collect Joel, leaving you unsure of what exactly to expect with him. You whispered to yourself, “I’m sure he’ll make a full recovery, dramatic of course but full.”
A few minutes later a very drowsy looking Joel walked out, looking around in confusion. It took him a few moments to realize that you were there but as soon as he did, his entire face, as much as you could see of it anyway, lit up, “wow. You’re so pretty!”
You had to work extremely hard not to burst into a bit of giggles at one, how pathetic he looked, and two how muffled and mumbly he sounded. You walked over to him and reached for his hand, tenderly taking it in yours, “hi, my love.”
He looked around for a moment, a confused look in his eyes as he looked around the room to see who you were possibly talking about. Then realization hit him, “you're talking to me?”
“Yes, of course,” you chewed on the inside of your cheek, “come on, let's get everything you need and then we can get out of here.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home-”
“Together? Do we live together?” He looked so genuinely bewildered that this time you couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped you.
“Yes,” you promised sweetly, “we live together.”
“Wow,” he whispered under his breath, watching as you went to the counter to get everything for him and get any special instructions. While you were listening intently, Joel was looking around at everything in awe, seemingly mesmerized by so many little things. 
Once you had written instructions and everything in hand, you turned back to him, only to find him standing there with a sleepy expression on his face. You reached for his hand, taking it gently in yours and started to head towards the door, “c’mon, love. We’re all set. You have to come back in about a week for your follow up, but otherwise you’re all set.”
“Why do I have to come back?” he trailed alongside you, words still muffled from the cotton in his mouth, “I don’t want to come back.”
“Honey, you just had surgery and they took your teeth out-”
“My teeth?” he looked horrified for a moment as he reached up and touched his face, which was still partially numb, “they stole my teeth!”
“Oh -  I mean, I guess you’re not wrong,” you took his hands gently and shook your head, “they were meant to take them, Joel. They were giving you problems.”
“What if I die without them?” He looked so upset - ridiculously adorable but upset. 
“You’re not going to die,” you insisted, “I promise you’re going to be fine. A little uncomfortable for a few days but then you’ll be fine.”
“And you’ll be there?”
“Of course I will,” you helped him into the truck again, “I’ll always be there.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really pretty?” you could feel his gaze practically burning into you as you walked through the aisles of the grocery store. You’d insisted that you should get him home first so he could rest but he insisted on coming with you so he could pick out exactly what ice cream he wanted and what pudding flavors he liked best. You knew better than to argue with him, even in his current state. 
You stopped with your hand halfway into the freezer and gave him a curious expression, “umm, well…pretty sure I’ve heard that a few times before.”
“Well, you should…because it’s true,” he offered you a small, lopsided little smile. 
“Oh? I’ll keep that in mind,” you turned back to the taste at hand, shaking your head lightly to yourself. 
Once the cart was loaded up with everything needed for the next few days and you’d snagged the prescription for his antibiotics and pain medication, you head towards the checkout.
Joel appeared to be mostly alright, except for the way he stared at everything and made silly little comments about everything and anything. After you placed everything onto the conveyor belt, you turned around to make sure everything was alright. He waved at you sheepishly before he seemed to get ahead of himself, “do you have a boyfriend?”
Alright…that caught you by surprise. You’d thought he had managed to put the pieces together by now but apparently whatever they had used on him at the dentist’s office was strong. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, “umm…yeah. I do actually…have a boyfriend.”
“Oh,” the look on his face was nothing short of crestfallen, “t-that’s good. I guess.”
You hummed under your breath as you greeted the checker and paid for everything. You grabbed the bags and motioned for him to follow you as you walked back out to the truck, “c’mon Joel! Don’t need you slowing me down!”
“Yeah…coming,” he mumbled as he helped you to load the backs into the backseat of the truck. He got in as soon as you were done, hopping into the passenger seat and crossing his arms over his broad chest, “does he treat you good? Your boyfriend?”
“He does,” you promised, absolutely meaning it. Joel was the best friend and partner you’d ever had, “he’s amazing. And I love him a lot.”
“Cool,” and he seemed like he thought it was anything but cool, “cool.”
“Mhmm…”
“I think maybe we should go on a date,” he mumbled, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window, “we could be good together. I can treat you right.”
“I’m sure you could,” you chuckled as you turned onto your street, “as a matter of fact, I know you could.”
“Then…I…why-”
“Joel Miller, I don’t know if I should be offended or amused that you don’t remember,” you pretended to scoff heavily as you pulled into the driveway and parked the truck, “we’re dating, silly man. You’re the boyfriend. My boyfriend.”
“No way,” his pretty brown eyes lit up with excitement as he pointed in between the two of you, “you’re dating me?”
“I sure am and vice versa,” you grinned happily as you slid out of the driver’s side and started to grab the groceries to bring them inside. He scrambled to keep up with you, eyes practically glued to you, “come on, love. I know you’re staring at my ass, but you can do that any other time. Now it’s time for you to get some rest.”
“Yes ma’am,” he came up and grabbed half the bags from you and headed in as soon as you had the door unlocked. You made quick work of putting everything away and ushering him upstairs to the bedroom. 
For a small surprise you’d gotten him some comfy new pajamas to wear in his recovery. He claimed that he would be just fine but you knew that he was going to be a big baby. Might as well make it so he would be a comfortable big baby.
“Here you go,” you looked through the top drawer of the dresser and handed him the clean pajamas. He made a small sound of happiness, “go get changed and then into bed for you. You need to rest and need to do less talking.”
“But nothing,” you nudged him towards the bed with your hip, “besides, I guarantee that as soon as you’re in bed and comfortable the tiredness is going to set in and get you. You didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“But-”
“That’s not gonna happen,” he stripped down and put on the comfy clothes, groaning as he laid down in the soft, clean sheets. You offered him a knowing look as he made himself comfortable. He badly stifled a yawn as you raised an eyebrow, “fine, maybe you’re right.”
“I’ll grab a book and some movies in case you can’t or don’t want to sleep after a while,” you looked him over and made sure everything was in check, “and I’ll grab some water and pain meds.”
“You’re the best,” he was already getting sleepy, partly wishing you’d just get in with him, “‘m lucky you decided to date me. I wanna take you on a date when I feel better.”
“Don’t worry I’m counting on that,” you paused in the doorway for a moment, “I’m lucky to have you too, Joel. Get some rest okay? I’ll just be downstairs.”
“Can I have ice cream soon?” 
“Yeah baby,” you grinned softly, “you can have all the ice cream you want later.”
“And you?”
“And me.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the time you got home and Joel settled into bed, you were worn out. You made yourself a snack and sat down on the couch to watch some mindless television. There was ice cream stock piled on the freezer for when he woke up and lots of puddings and broths and yogurts for the next few days ahead. Sarah was still at a friend’s house for the night but you knew that she’d love getting to mess with Joel while he was out of commission. 
After a few episodes of the show you’d thrown on, you heard the creak of the stairs. You looked up and found Joel looking at you with a pathetic little expression on his face. You smiled softly in return before motioning for him to come over and join you. 
“How’re you feeling, baby?” you lifted the warm blanket and you were under and he snuggled up to you, wasting no time in getting as comfortable as possible.
“‘m okay,” he huffed as you reached up and brushed his hair out of his face, “my mouth feels weird and gross and it hurts a little. Otherwise right as rain.”
“You can use that mouthwash they gave after you eat a little something and get some pain medication. You’ll be able to brush your teeth in a day or two,” with the lightest of touches, you ghosted your fingers along his jaw. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, “you’re already doing good, Joel. Better than earlier anyway.”
“Oh no,” he groaned softly as you laughed, “how stupid was I acting? I feel like it was a dream, I don’t remember a lot, just bits.”
“Well, you didn’t remember that we were together, then you were shocked that I was living with you. You proceeded to flirt - albeit very badly - with me and tried to get me to agree to go on a date with you. Seemed like you’d do anything for that. When I reminded you that we’re actually already dating - that kind of together - you almost lost it. So yeah, you were something else.”
“Fuck me,” he groaned as he tried to hide his face from you. His cheeks were tinged a bright pink as you giggled, “well that’s embarrassing. Let’s never talk about this again.”
“Nice try,” you shook your head, “I am so telling Sarah when she gets home tomorrow. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Joel Miller.”
“Baby-”
“Don’t baby me, baby,” you placed a kiss to the bridge of his nose, “You had your fun and now I get to have mine.”
“Fine,” he pouted, already knowing that neither of his girls were ever going to let him forget this, “fine.”
“You ready for some ice cream?” your voice was sticky sweet as you looked him over. He looked somewhere between miserable and thankful and totally in love as you made your way over to the kitchen, “there’s plenty in the freezer!”
“...yes please.”
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 months
Text
Practice On Me — Finale — Azriel x Reader
Summary: The grand Illyrian ball is here. Reader is more than ready to return to Windhaven and Azriel, but daddy Fin throws a huge spanner in the works. Life as they know it is about to change.
Note — I’ve tried to tag everyone who’s asked but there are some people that it simply won’t let me tag 🥲
Word Count: 10.6k (oop, sorry 😅)
Warnings: There’s a looot to unpack here. Depictions of violence and gore. Some light smut. 18+!
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This place is cold and unforgiving.
The air in your lungs is constricted before you’ve even stepped through the giant gates. They call it the Hewn City due to its entirety being hewn from cold, hard rock.
But you get the feeling these walls are more than that. You can feel the horror in the cracks, the loneliness that screams behind its surface.
You don’t know how Mor has survived so long here. You’re already itching to get out.
A warm hand splays across your back, and you turn to face Fin. It’s not the first time he drinks you in so hungrily, but you could be forgiven for thinking so, by the way his eyes heat all over again. He glances quickly at your lips, and in this empty meeting room that he’s stolen you away to, you’re not at all sure that he isn’t bold enough to act on that hunger.
“Focus, High Lord.” You murmur, brushing the lapel of his tailored jacket. “You’ve an audience waiting for you.”
Somewhat of an infantile groan leaves him — one you’re not sure he’d share with many others. He dips down and allows his forehead to drop against your shoulder, slowly breathing in your scent.
“And if I said fuck the audience,” he murmurs, “and decided to stay here to dip under this gown and ravish you? What then?”
“Then I wager your subjects would be mighty displeased that you brought them here for nothing.”
“I could make you moan,” his nose nudges your neck, “loud enough to give them a show.”
“Later.” You promise falsely, and the lie is sour on your tongue. You step back and straighten yourself out. “You have a duty to attend to.”
The way his eyes sweep you tells you that you are the only duty he wishes to attend to. But he relents with a sigh and inclines his head.
“I do.” He admits. “And I will have to play my role out there. I’ll be mostly unavailable for the duration of this ball, so…I want you to go and have fun. Just don’t stray too far. I’ve organised the evening’s entertainment with you in mind, and I want you by my side when you see it.”
For a beat, you can only blink at him. You’re…touched, that he would do that for you. And your mind immediately starts swirling with possibilities of what that entertainment might be. Perhaps a show of professional dancers or a theatrical performance.
You study him, attempting to glean information merely from the expression on that granite-hewn face. “It’s Starfall.” You remind him. “Is that not the evening’s entertainment?”
He merely smiles. “I’ll send for you when it’s time.” He leans down, coasting his lips over one cheek and then the other. “Enjoy yourself.”
Without another word, he turns. Rolls his shoulders and slips into his High Lord roll. But before he can take a step towards the door, you're grabbing his hand.
“Fin—” You blurt, and he stops. You swallow as you stare up at him. “Just…please don’t let Tathaln Baralas ruin the camps.”
His gaze searches your face. You can’t get a read on his expression.
But then the corners of his lips curve up, and he’s squeezing your hand.
“I won’t let Tathaln become a problem.” He says, and then repeats, “enjoy yourself.”
The way he prises his hand from yours has an air of finality that stops you from pushing any further. You want to ask — beg, if you have to — for his reassurance. But he strides to the door, sleek black shoes clipping against the marble floor.
And left alone, you think you may have done all you possibly can do. That the rest is out of your hands.
So you attempt to shake off your relentless anxiety, and you go to find your friends.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Weaving through the mammoth structure and the sea of Illyrians that fill it, you’ve already witnessed three fights and two couples damn near fucking in nothing more hidden than the alcoves carved into the walls. Pretty tame for your people, but alas, the night is young.
There are so many pairs of wings. There is such a thick air of arrogance and ego and brutishness. You’re not quite sure where you fit in here, but before you can find a refreshment that will dull that feeling, strong arms are wrapping around your waist and yanking you backwards.
You scream, and no one around you bats an eyelash. You thrash and buck, but the attempt is met with—
Deep, smooth laughter that you know so, so well.
You relax in the offender’s hold immediately, and their arms loosen enough for you to twist in them.
You glare up at Cassian and send a punch to his bicep. “Asshole.”
“Ow!” He chokes on another laugh, and then he’s grinning brilliantly, white teeth gleaming in the fae light. “Hello, Sweetpea. I’ve missed you.”
Fuck, you’ve missed him too. And that’s all it takes for you to throw your arms around him and squeeze.
He smells like Cass. That rugged scent of his that is such a comfort. And the way he hugs you back, firm yet gentle, warm and loving and present, tells you that any previous anger he had towards you is a thing of the past.
“Windhaven is fucking boring without you.” He pulls back, holding you at arms length — and blinks. “Holy gods, look at you.”
“Look at you.” Your eyes rove over him, from his tailored, maroon-coloured suit to his brushed, slicked-back hair. His wings are squeaky clean and flared proudly. He’s stunning. Breathtaking.
He cracks another Cassian grin. “Who knew we could brush up so well, hey, Sweetpea? You’re absolutely gorgeous. I’ll be the envy of all these Illyrian males, knowing I fucked you—”
“Cassian.” You land another hit to his bicep. “Don’t ruin the moment.”
“Sorry, sorry. I’ve actually been sent to collect you. A certain someone is waiting for you on a patio. I’ll give you a clue — he, too, has fucked you—”
With a roll of your eyes, albeit a fond one, you’re breezing past him with a feeling of…need. To see Azriel. To have him ground you in a place and circumstance of such unfamiliarity. You need that comfort.
Cass follows promptly, slinging an arm around your shoulder — not just because he’s missed you, but because the leering eyes of hundreds of Illyrian males follow your every step. Those gazes seem to drink in your dress bead by little bead. They’re hungry for sex and for violence.
“Out here.” Your friend steers you down a hallway, untouched by not only guests, but also the horrific brilliance of the rest of this place. This is an area that most aren’t supposed to see, with chipped concrete floors and peeling walls. It’s so cold, so ugly and uninviting, that you can’t imagine why Azriel would summon you here, of all places.
But then a door appears at the end of the winding hall, open just enough for a sliver of moonlight to touch the threshold. The fresh air has goosebumps spreading over your skin.
“He wanted some private time with you. Rhys and I said we’d keep watch.” Cass studies you and huffs a deep, dramatic sigh. “I’m trying really hard not to feel left out right now.”
“I’m sure you don’t really want to be the third wheel—”
“Sure I do. I’ve told Az that he wouldn’t even know I’m there, but no, he wants you all to himself. Selfish bastard.” He reaches out, pulling the door open wider for you. And then he calls, “I hope you heard that, fucker!”
Strong footsteps emerge from argent moonlight, and Azriel’s voice is a lilting shiver across your skin. “You know I heard it, you idiot.” He says. “You…”
His words trail off as he takes you in, and suddenly you don’t know what to do with your hands, your face, with any part of you.
His stare holds the weight of a very ancient love, so much older than the both of you. It somehow translates that you had his heart in a previous life, when you were different people entirely, and you’ll still have it in the next, when your souls begin anew.
He swallows, loud enough that you all hear it. And his voice is husky as he says, “There are no words worthy of you.”
And you’re hit with a strange urge to cry. Mostly because you feel exactly the same way about him.
He is…exquisite. He’s slicked his hair back, and that alone is a huge thing for him — to openly show each and every curve and line of his face, with no strands to hide behind. The curtain of his thick, dark lashes only accentuates the honey of his eyes and the gold of his skin.
And the suit he’s donned for the evening — that same maroon colour that Cass is wearing. You wonder if Rhys, wherever he is, is wearing the same. Whether the trio look as breathtaking together as you expect them to.
“No words.” Az repeats, shaking his head. “The Mother herself must have sent you to me.”
Cassian smirks and rests an elbow atop of your head, regardless of your perfected hair. “I said the same.”
You quirk an eyebrow. “No, you didn’t.”
“Well, I said something similar.”
“It wasn’t even close to that.”
“Be grateful of my winning charm—”
“Cassian.” Az cuts him off. “Why don’t you go and find Rhys?”
Cass lets out an infantile whine. “But he’s having private time with Zakai.”
“And I’d like to have some private time with Y/N, so. Run along.”
Your friend offers a great, dramatic huff that makes you grin, but he removes his arm from your head and turns.
“This whole coupling up thing is boring!” He calls, retreating down the hall.
And then it’s just you and Azriel.
Your love. Your heart.
You turn back to him with a coy smile, reaching up to fix your hair.
“Let me.” Az murmurs, and he steps closer, his fingers sinking into the strands of your hair. Up close, you drink him down even more, greedy and insatiable. You want to know every expression, every thought.
“There are no words worthy of you, either.” You whisper, and his eyes drop down from your hair to meet yours. “You’re a vision, Az.”
He studies you for a moment. And though his hands leave the strands, they lower only to cup your face. His thumb strokes your cheek.
“What I am,” he murmurs, “is yours.”
Your eyes shutter, and you drop your forehead against his. Every last bit of trouble and turmoil you’ve experienced has been worth it to hear those words. You want them to mark your skin.
You push up onto the tips of your toes, slanting your mouth over Azriel’s. He wastes no time in sliding his hands to your waist and hauling you close to him.
You kiss him like doing so here isn’t risky. Like you have the freedom to kiss him whenever and however you both want, and there are no outer forces getting in the way. You long for the day when that will be the case. When you can love, and love proudly.
Perhaps that luxury isn’t too far out of reach.
Az seems to think so, too, as he pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours once more, and he says, breathlessly, “Things are going to change — after tonight. I can feel it.”
You study him, searching for deeper meaning. And as though they can sense your anxiety, his shadows snake around your ankles in a soothing caress. “A good change, I hope.”
“Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. Me and you. I’m yours.”
You peck him once, twice. “And I am yours.”
Those words alone are enough to make heat blaze in his eyes. With adoration making way for passion, lust, he allows his gaze to rake over you, and he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.
“So fucking gorgeous.” His voice is guttural. “If we didn’t have to attend this ball right now, I would—”
The door flies open behind you, and Az looks more than ready to throttle Cassian as he prances back into sight and announces, “Found Rhys!”
“And we brought booze.” Rhys swiftly follows with a smirk. “Raided personally, by me, from my asshole father’s stash.”
Sure enough, his suit matches the other two. And seeing the three of them together like that, looking so beautiful, so proper, so…matured—
A lump forms in your throat that you force down. You furiously blink away the tears that sting your eyes.
Because it hits you, just then, how much you’ve missed this — the four of you, just being together, like old times. You were always such a strong unit, always driven by your love for one another, and the dysfunctional, unconventional, beautiful family you became. It’s been a long while since you looked upon these three males without burdening thoughts always remaining a step away. You miss the ease. You miss the love.
But here it is, right in front of you, just like it always will be. And in that moment, nothing else matters but your little unit. Just you, Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand.
As you shake out of your thoughts, you realise Rhys is staring at you just as intensely. Strong emotion swims in his eyes.
“…What?” You ask, smoothing your hands over your dress.
“You just…look incredible.” He smiles softly. “Every single star that soars above our heads tonight will have nothing on you.”
Just as you think you’re about to get choked up all over again, Cassian smirks and declares, “I said the same.”
You scowl, reaching out to swat him. “No, you did not. Just accept you’re bad at compliments and move on.”
“I’m a master at compliments, thank you very much.”
Az slides an arm around your waist and quirks an eyebrow. “You took Sacha for a drink and complimented her by saying you look like you bathed. You’re hardly a poet, Cass.”
It’s Cassian’s turn to scowl then. “Well, what I may lack in poetry, I make up for in the bedroom. As Y/N clearly knows.”
A snarl rips from Azriel’s throat. “Watch yourself.”
Rhys rolls his eyes and smacks Cassian upside the head. “Don’t wind him up, dickhead.”
“Who are you calling dickhead?”
“I’m calling you dickhead, dickhead.”
The bickering becomes background noise as you prise the bottle from Rhys’s hand and take a generous swig — none of which he even notices, as he and Cass continue taking swipes at each other.
And as the liquid burns your throat, you meet Azriel’s gaze. Both of you grin. He takes the bottle from you.
In that moment, all you feel is happiness. Beautiful familiarity. Rhys and Cassian tearing chunks out of each other while you and Azriel watch and laugh from the sidelines. It makes your heart feel heavy with such warmth that it may just burst.
You do not need lavishness or luxury. Your life is nothing special, but you do not want for anything.
Just this. Only this.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
“Who knew so many Illyrians could dance?”
Rhysand’s steps are swift and flawless. It’s situations like these — ones of strict propriety and, dare you say, class — that you’re reminded he’s only half-Illyrian. The other males around you may be trying their hand at dancing, but Rhys flows through each number with barely a thought.
You smile up at him, secure in his hold. A dance floor full of Illyrians is a temperamental and, quite frankly, stupid idea. Anyone who gets too close to another’s wings is asking for a punch. Or five.
But so far, it’s been surprisingly uneventful. And you might even begin to relax and enjoy yourself — if not for the images you keep glimpsing in your periphery.
Every now and then, a flash of bright red will pass you by as Kaeda is spun from one set of burly arms to another. Her dress is the same shade as her hair. It’s alarming. Makes you think of blood.
And even more alarming, perhaps, is the pair of eyes that follow you from the dais. Fin spares only cursory glances to the rest of his guests, from where he sits on his throne in pensive silence, but his eyes linger heavily on you. Hungry, flaming eyes that follow your every move. And standing at his side — Tathaln Baralas.
The Lord of Fenlaros is even bigger than you remember. In a tailored suit, he looks…all wrong. That kind of finery will never work with him. He’s rugged, and cold, and something tells you that while Fenlaros is considerably more civilised than the majority of Illyrian camps, Tathaln Baralas feels most at home with the bare necessities. Luxury is nothing but a fly buzzing in his ear.
But he will tolerate that fly, you know — can tell, precisely from the way his dark, frightening eyes watch the room with more intensity than any single person should harbour. And that intensity is directed solely at one person. Azriel.
Tathaln watches the shadowsinger as though he’s weighing up whether he can kidnap him from this event and force him to Fenlaros. It makes your stomach turn.
“You seem on edge tonight.” Rhys’s deep gaze studies you. His hand presses firmer against the small of your back. “I won’t let anything happen to you, don’t worry.”
You’re not sure if he’s referring to his father, or to Kaeda, or to her father. Or even just to the evening in general. But you squeeze his hand, all the same.
“You’re the best.” You tell him. “And you should be dancing with Zakai.”
His eyes glimmer with his signature charm. “Oh, I will. But I always intended to save the first dance for my best girl.”
The sentiment is so…Rhysand, so comforting, that you almost — almost — start to think that everything will be alright.
But he spins you under his arm, and it’s like being spun straight back into reality. Because as you turn, that gaze from up on the dais meets yours again.
And this time, it’s not just hungry — but possessive.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
You dance and dance until your feet feel like they might fall off. Although, you’re not sure how much of that can be attributed to Cassian stepping on them throughout his uncoordinated prancing.
But the more the night wears on, the more your stomach churns with deep, unrelenting anxiety. You feel sick. Like a shadow of doom is looming over your shoulder and waiting to pull you into its thrall. By the time Cassian hands you over to Azriel, you’re not entirely sure that you won’t be sick.
Az studies your face with clear concern on his own — concern that doesn’t make his steps falter. He’s a natural dancer, taught and honed by Roza. Almost as good as Rhys. He moves as swift as flying, but his expression doesn’t hold the same ease.
“What is it?” He asks, and his thumb sweeps a stroke over your hip. “You don’t look well.”
So badly, you want to lean into his touch. But…not now — not with Fin watching. You dare a quick glance at the dais, and sure enough, his eyes stalk you. They follow everywhere Azriel touches your body. Strangely, the hunger in them intensifies. The hickory shade of them has darkened until it’s almost a stark black. He licks his lips and watches Azriel’s fingers caress you through your dress.
“I’m just…ready for this night to be over. You know all this luxury isn’t my thing.”
His hands press firmer against your skin. “I must say, as much as I’m loving this dress, I’m equally excited to rip it off—”
“May I?”
Two seconds. You look away for two seconds, and Fin is suddenly off the dais and behind you. The guests around you all watch with curious eyes.
Azriel pauses, his lingering touch letting you know just how reluctant he is to let you go.
But ultimately, he is wise. And ultimately, he concedes.
“Of course, High Lord.” He inclines his head. “She’s your special guest, after all.”
“Yes.” Fin’s eyes don’t stray from you. “She is.”
You know it’s deliberate — the way he makes sure everyone is watching as he scoops you into his arms with a small lift off the ground. And then he begins dancing, and everyone else resumes.
As you follow his steps, you allow yourself the chance to look at him. Look at him, and wonder if he’ll hate you after all this is over. You…you don’t want him to hate you. That complicates things, but gods above, it’s true.
He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, and you may as well be the only two people in the room as he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear, “When you look at me like that, Y/N, it makes me think I’m not such a bad male as most would think.”
“You’re not.” You respond almost immediately, and you mean it. “I think it’d surprise you to know how highly you’re regarded. Everyone in this room who is looking upon you—”
You yelp as he suddenly dips you, his lips at your ear.
“Everyone in this room,” he says, “is looking at you. And rightfully so. You’re a masterpiece — my masterpiece.”
The compliment — the possessiveness — all seems extreme. But then, you think everything about Fin might be a bit extreme. He doesn’t do anything by halves. The blush that dusts your cheeks seems to please him.
“You like it, don’t you?” His voice is like gravel. “That not a single male in here can take their eyes off you. You are the envy of every female. Stripped of wings, but not of raw, natural beauty.”
He straightens you out before you can reply, and your head spins — with the sudden movement, and with the whiplash of the comment. It both pleases you and reminds you how exposed your back is — the trauma that everyone can see.
“Charming as ever.” You swallow, hope the smile on your face is convincing. “I don’t quite know what to say.”
“Words are not necessary — not tonight.” The song you’re dancing to fades to an end, and he steadies you gently on your feet. His gaze sweeps you again, and he remarks, “The stars will begin their journeys soon.”
In the strange headiness of the evening, you almost forgot that this is, essentially, two events wrapped up in one. Starfall, and Fin’s lavish ball. Perhaps seeing those stars will bring you some semblance of peace — make you feel less lost than you do right now, as they travel somewhere unbeknownst to you, and perhaps unbeknownst to themselves, also.
“Will you be joining us outside to watch them?” You ask.
A strange smile curves his lips. “Indeed I will. It’s a magnificent sight to behold.” He steps back, bowing to press a kiss to the backs of your fingers. And then he straightens up. Retreats.
“However,” he says, “I do believe the entertainment I’ve arranged for you may just outshine those stars this year.”
He saunters away, back to his dais. And as he lowers himself into his throne, he meets your gaze.
That same old thirst in them is unquenchable.
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The males are treating the stardust like it’s the snow that so often coats your respective camps.
The first specks of it showering down on you were surprising, beautiful. But in true Illyrian fashion, what started as a cordial gathering to observe the soaring, luminous beings, has been reduced to little more than a drunken bust up.
You don’t know which camp launched the first clump of glimmering dust at another, but that was all it took for chaos to break out. The fray jostles you away from your friends until you can no longer feel Azriel pressed to your side or hear Cassian’s constant chattering. Try as you might to locate them, it’s impossible to see past giant, burly males with alarming wingspans. It’s a sea of dark hair and tan skin.
You push and push your way through, looking for a small exit through the gathered bodies. Your gown is trampled on, and you’re shoved this way and that, taking a few handfuls of stardust to your face and neck and arms. The feel of it is a cold contrast against your hot skin.
Just as you spot an opening to squeeze through, a male is careening into you and taking you down with him. It stuns you so much that you forget to brace yourself for impact. You’re about to tear your skin open against the sharp ground—
But huge, warm hands from behind catch you beneath your arms and keep you upright. Set you on your feet.
You turn, smacking straight into a broad expanse of chest. And a little higher up — long hair and wicked eyes. A taunting grin. Too-sharp teeth.
Tathaln Baralas seems to command the area around him so much that the fighting moves away from you both. A fact that makes him so incredibly smug.
“You’re welcome.” He sounds as rough and rugged as the mountain rock.
You clear your throat and incline your head in reluctant thanks. You’re not too keen on the idea of lingering for a chat with him.
But before you can so much as turn, his hand is fastening around your wrist. It’s not a tight grip, and yet it’s a warning — that it could become tighter if you tried to move.
“I’d like to go and find my friends—”
“I’ve been wracking my brain trying to work out why the High Lord is so taken by you.” He angles his head, and his eyes travel down, a smirk toying with his lips. “Besides a magnificent pair of tits, of course.”
Gritting your teeth, you attempt to rip your arm away. “You do him a disservice by thinking him so shallow—”
“Does Rhysand know you’re fucking his father?”
“You’re mistaken, my lord, and I’ll thank you to let go of me.”
“My daughter’s warning was clearly of no use. Perhaps I’ll be able to drive the message in harder. Whatever you’re planning—”
“There you are.” Out of seemingly nowhere, Rhysand’s voice saves the day. “I’ve been looking for you.”
The most minuscule, tiny beat passes — but Tathaln Baralas is no damn fool. With such blatant reluctance, he lets go of your wrist and takes a step back.
Rhys presses himself against your side, slinging an arm around your shoulders. He stares at Tathaln as he says, “My father wants everybody rounded up. It’s time for the entertainment he has planned.”
It’s a cloaked order, and you can see how much the Lord of Fenlaros wants to grit his teeth against it. But again — no damn fool.
“I’ll help gather everyone up.” He relents, and then he turns and pushes through fighting males as though they’re not there.
Rhys turns to you, concerned eyes taking you in. “Are you alright?”
“I will be.” You respond vaguely, linking your arm with his. “When this is all over, I will be.”
Little does he know, it’s not only the ball that you’re referring to.
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Like petulant children, the bustling males don’t want to go back under the mountain for the remainder of the ball. They want to stay outside and frolic in the fallen stardust and maybe fight or fuck in it, too.
But somehow, Fin commands their return. And the silence with which they now all stare up at the dais has you wondering if there’s anybody he can’t get to obey him.
Roza, probably. The thought brings a smile to your face.
Gods, you’d love to be with Roza right now, Spending quiet, quality time together. Blocking out the world in its entirety. You’re glad, so heavily pregnant as she is, that she’s not here tonight — but still, you can’t help wishing she was—
A loud clap sounds through the room, jolting you from your thoughts. You force your eyes into focus once more, and though you’re buried a few rows back, Fin finds your gaze immediately. He smiles.
“I wanted to thank each and every one of you for coming here tonight.” He addresses the room. “I understand that Illyrians have a way of life that you like to keep loyal to, and that integrating with other camps is not normally a done thing. I appreciate you keeping your minds open and straying from your traditions to honour this event.”
The crowd stirs and murmurs, and every person packed within it must be wondering why Tathaln Baralas is the only camp lord up on that dais with the High Lord while the others all congregate on the floor, common as muck. They are not privy to the things that you are. You have a horrible feeling that that is all about to change.
“While there have been a few…hiccups, this evening, I have mostly been impressed by how well you were able to interact.” Fin goes on. “That is exactly what this little experiment was intended for. Because that’s what this ball was — an experiment. I address each and every Illyrian when I say this: change is coming.”
No.
Your stomach bottoms out. Hands turn clammy in an instant.
Surely…surely he hasn’t just ignored everything you’ve said. Surely this hasn’t all been for nothing.
“You may recognise the male behind me.” He’s not looking at you now. His eyes skim the room, but they don’t stray in your direction. “Tathaln Baralas — Lord of the Fenlaros camp.”
At that, a small burst of cheers breaks out from one section of the room. Fenlarions, you can only assume. You’re too panicked to care.
Tathaln takes a step forward, not quite in line with Fin, but almost. He seems to be fighting back a smirk. And as you feel another heavy set of eyes on you, you look to your left — to a few steps down, where Kaeda stands. She eyes you with what must be triumph in her eyes, and she doesn’t bother to hide her smirk.
This…this has all gone very, very wrong. You’ve fucked up — failed. Perhaps even doomed the lives of countless people. Fin may have poured sweet sentiments into your ear and boosted your confidence, but you so clearly weren’t enough. Weren’t enough to appeal yourself to him, and weren’t enough to save Illyria as you know it.
You’re not at all certain that you aren’t going to faint. Whatever is about to be said or done, you don’t want to be here for it. You want to gather up Azriel and Cassian and Rhys and get the fuck out of there, far away from this, from him. You look frantically around for them, but you’ve lost them again. Can’t even glimpse the backs of their heads.
“A short while ago, the Lord of Fenlaros came to me with a suggestion. A proposition.” Fin slides his hands into his pockets; a strangely arrogant gesture that tells you just how at ease he is. “But before I tell you all about that, I would like to speak to you about somebody else. Another one of your own who I have recently had the delight of spending my time with. Getting to know.”
It takes a delayed moment for you to realise he’s staring at you once more.
Staring firmly, unflinchingly at you.
He extends a hand in your direction, and everybody — every single fucking person around you — turns to get a look, also.
“Sweet Y/N,” He cocks his head. Smiles. “Would you join me up here, please?”
You falter on the spot, forgetting entirely how to move. Every pair of eyes…the attention…it’s all too much. Everyone is looking at you. Everyone can see you, your scars.
“Y/N.” Fin repeats. “This is for you, after all.”
Someone shoves you in the back, and snickers titter around you, the sounds swimming from one ear to the other. On shaking legs, you slip between bodies. Bodies with faces attached that won’t stop looking at you, staring at you, wondering why you, of all people, have caught the High Lord’s attention. A lowly Illyrian female without any wings.
Numb from head to toe, you climb up onto the dais. Fin takes your trembling hand. Pulls you to his side.
Only then do you find Azriel, Cassian and Rhys in the crowd. All staring up at you with alarmed, horrified expressions. They can sense something very terrible is about to go down, too.
“For all of you who haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her — this is Y/N.” Fin speaks loudly, clearly, his tone clipped. “She hails from the Windhaven camp. She is Illyrian in her own right. She has a brain wise beyond her twenty years, and a heart of solid gold. She cares for Illyrians — for all of you. Cares for your futures.” A very, very potent pause. His expression changes — darkens. He purses his lips. “But you all do not care for her, do you?”
Silence. Nobody knows where this is going. There’s a slight movement in the crowd, and out of the corner of your eye, you see your friends pushing closer to the front.
“You cannot claim to care about her — about your own females — when you are willing to do this.”
So quickly, Fin’s hands are gripping your arms, and he’s wrenching you around on the spot. Forcing your back to them. Forcing them to swallow down the sight of your ruined back.
But your scars poking through the sheer fabric is not enough for him, it would seem. Those hands of his, gentle at times and dangerous at others, skate over your shoulders. Stop at the top of your back, where you hate so profoundly to be touched.
And he rips the fabric open like he’s cleaving air.
The cold air hits your exposed back, and surprised murmurs ripple through the room. Each and every one of them will have seen clipped wings before — but not this. Not the brutal hacking you were subjected to.
On instinct, you’re fighting against Fin, trying to turn, trying to hide. He holds you steady.
“Her own father did this to her.” He announces. “As so many of you intend to do to your own daughters, no doubt. Look at her. Look at how she suffered, and believe me when I say, again, change is coming.”
“Father.” Rhysand’s voice reaches you from behind, severe, outraged. “Stop this.”
It surprises you that Fin immediately turns you back around. But you are under no illusion that he’s listened to his son’s plea. He simply isn’t finished.
There is not one part of you that isn’t shaking. You stare firmly at your feet, refusing to meet any of the gazes pinned on you. Some may be pitying. Most will be delighted.
“I understand that Y/N may not appreciate what I just did. And rightfully so.” With a theatrical wave of his hand, the rip at the back of your dress is mended. But the damage is already done. “She has a right to those feelings. A thing I believe you Illyrian males do not understand. That your females feel. That they can rightfully be hurt, and they can rightfully want to be avenged. Y/N?”
You know he’s addressing you, asking you to look at him. But you can’t move. You can’t…can’t stop shaking. Can’t stop feeling like you want to throw up.
“Y/N.” He repeats, softer this time. “Look at me please.”
You pause.
And then you do.
You turn, and you look at him with an expression that will never promise forgiveness.
To his credit, he studies your face. It’s like he’s searching for an answer as to whether his little stunt was irredeemable. His eyes swallow your expression, and a moment passes between you. One that doesn’t include everybody else in this room.
You imagine you look hateful. You imagine you are sneering, and clenching your jaw, and allowing him to see that you will not stand for such disrespect from anybody, including him.
And he…he looks upon you like he wants the rest of the room to disappear. Like he wants nothing more than to steal you into his arms and spirit you away, far away from this.
You take a small step back.
“I got you a gift.” He says, too quietly. Extends a hand again.
You feel yourself shaking your head. You cannot speak. But this does not deter him. He retracts his hand and murmurs to somebody — somebody you can’t see around the roaring in your head — “The box, please.”
As blurred movement stirs in front of you, you angle yourself towards the crowd — towards your friends. You search their terrified faces without seeing them, and you know that they are just as powerless as you are. Even Rhysand. That throwing themselves in the mix may just make the situation worse.
And you don’t even know what the situation is. All you know is that your heart is thudding and your ears are screaming. All you know is that you feel…betrayed…by Fin making a spectacle of you like this. That your body and mind are having such violent reactions because your vulnerabilities, insecurities, may just be the evening’s entertainment that you’re supposed to somehow enjoy—
“Y/N.”
Your eyes snap back to the High Lord, and a tear escapes the corner of it. You pretend it doesn’t exist, even if Fin’s gaze tracks it and softens.
“For you.” He holds a box out to you.
For a moment, you weigh up the likelihood that you could just dart off the stage and make a run for it. Find somewhere to hide and cry. But as your hands extend outwards without you telling them to, you know it’s no use. You’re seeing this through, however reluctantly.
Your trembles are violent as you take the box into your hands — and almost drop it. It’s heavier than you’re expecting. Fin smiles.
Every single person in that room watches you slide the lid off the box.
Every single person in that room watches you peer inside — and drop it. Stagger back.
“What the fuck is this?” You choke. “What have you done?!”
There are murmurs, people angling to get a look, as Fin casually strolls over to that box. As he reaches in.
As he lifts your father’s severed head by his hair and holds it up like it’s a fucking show and tell. And grins at it.
Steeled Illyrian warriors who have been bred for violence scatter back, curses and noises rolling off their tongues.
“Allow this to be a lesson to each and every one of you.” Fin speaks loudly, entirely unperturbed by the head dangling from his fingertips. “That while your camps are overseen by your camp lords, I am still your High Lord, and I am always watching, and listening, and waiting to act, if necessary. This male wronged somebody I care for. The only fitting punishment was this.”
Without a care, he drops your father’s head back into the box and kicks it away. You stumble back, back, toppling off the dais. Somebody catches you.
“I am your High Lord.” Fin repeats, seemingly unaware of the panic roiling in his audience. “I do not take kindly to being used or manipulated. I do not take kindly to somebody presuming to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do with my court. And Illyria is part of my court — no matter how much you try to distance yourselves. You are under my jurisdiction. What happens to you is my call to make.”
For a split second, you can only hear certain words; used, manipulated, presuming to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. You think he’s addressing solely you, but he isn’t.
People are moving around you. Arms wrap around you. It takes a moment for you to register that it’s Azriel. That he’s tucking you between himself and Cassian and Rhys. They’re shielding you.
Fin is now pacing the dais, hands behind his back. “The Lord of Fenlaros spent months concocting –and perfecting — a self-serving scheme that he then presented to me, as though he has the authority to do so.” He stops, turning to Tathaln — a very pale Tathaln. “And while I agree there would be some benefits to what you proposed, your methods have pissed me off. And I don’t like being pissed off.”
Tathaln squares his massive shoulders. Steps forward. “I—”
“What gives you the right to delegate your daughter and sons to rival camps to do your bidding, without bringing your case to me first? I should have been your first port of call. I should have decided how this plan of yours should play out. Yet you schemed behind my back and tried to build power and gain favour in case I disagreed to your plan. So you could then build a cause against me.”
“My Lord, I assure you, that is not—”
“Yes — your Lord.” He reiterates.
And then quick as a flash, he’s drawing a sword.
Quick as a flash, it slices through the air and hacks Tathaln Baralas’s head clean off his neck.
It drops to the dais with a wet-sounding thwack. The rest of his body crumples to the floor.
You can’t breathe, or think, or hear. Can only stare at Tathaln’s open, glazed eyes, peering off into nothing. There are gasps and curses and panic. Hands claw at you. You can’t move.
And then a high-pitched, wailing scream rents the air, like nothing else you’ve ever heard. So loud, it snaps you out of your shock.
You turn, despite the hands that hold you firm and still. Through tear-blurred eyes, you glimpse Kaeda on her knees. Her beautiful face is screwed with despair. She stares at her father’s head, and she wails.
“Change is, indeed, upon us.” Fin says calmly, as though a river of blood is not pooling at his feet. “But it will be dealt by my hands, and my hands only.” He sheathes his blade once more. “This ball is over. You can all leave.”
Sliding his hands into his pockets, he strolls off the dais, tracking blood with each step. He disappears through a door without looking back.
And then chaos is erupting. Kaeda is still screaming. People are scrambling to book it out of there. You turn back to Tathaln’s head. Turn to your father’s, still in that box. You think you might be sick—
“Y/N.” Hands grasp your face tightly. Azriel is staring into your eyes, pleading with you to stare back. “We need to get out of here, okay? We’re getting out of here.”
You open your mouth, and a strangled noise escapes you. “I…I can’t…move.”
“You can. You can. Come.” His arms band around you. And though he holds you strong, you can feel that he’s shaken, too. “We’re leaving before the High Lord comes back. I’m getting you out of here. Hold onto me.”
You have no choice other than to comply. But your grip is as weak as you are. You can’t stop yourself fucking shaking.
You don’t hear the words that Azriel speaks to Cassian and Rhys. All you can hear is Kaeda’s screaming. All you can do is stare over Azriel’s shoulder at your father’s lifeless face. That face didn’t once look upon you with love in twenty years. Now, it certainly never will.
You keep on looking until Azriel spirits you both out of there, and the coppery tang of blood follows you all the way back to Windhaven.
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“Please try to drink some of that.”
Azriel perches before you, his eyes fixed upon the steaming cup between your hands. You can’t remember how long ago he handed it to you, or how long ago you made it back to Roza’s cottage, or how long ago you watched Fin cleave Tathaln’s head from his body.
The fire is roaring, and more than one blanket is draped around you, but you can’t get any warmth to seep into your bones. You shiver from head to toe.
“It’ll warm you up.” Az reaches out, pressing a hand to your cheek. “I added a drop of whiskey to take the edge off.”
“I need more than a drop.” Cassian’s voice comes from behind the sofa, where he’s been pacing pretty much since he entered. “What the fuck was that? Your father is insane, Rhys.”
Rhys hasn’t breathed a word — that you’re aware of, anyway. Just sat in the armchair and stared into space. 
But his eyes shutter now, and he murmurs, “I know.”
“Absolutely insane.” Cass repeats. The pacing continues, up and down and up and down. “I didn’t realise you’d gotten so close to him, Y/N.”
As if you need reminding.
Fin had made it clear that in some fucked up way, everything he did tonight was for you. He’d slaughtered two people for you. You’d wanted to stop Tathaln, but not like that…never like that.
A tear rolls down your cheek, and you hear Azriel utter a quiet warning to Cass. Cass stops his pacing.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He says, softer. “I just…didn’t realise there was so much going on while you were in Velaris.”
“I was trying to help.” You whisper. “I didn’t mean for…I didn’t mean—”
“None of what happened tonight was your fault.” Azriel moves to your side. He pulls you close against him, arms soothingly wrapping around you. “Don’t you dare start thinking that. The High Lord does what he wants.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. What if he’s coming for me next? I was scheming, too.”
Az growls quietly. “He can try. He won’t get close.”
“My father doesn’t want you dead.” Rhys rests his head back against the chair. He doesn’t open his eyes, and you’re wondering if he’s replaying the picture of bloodshed as much as you are. “If he did, he would have killed you there and then, alongside Kaeda’s father and…yours.”
Cassian spits on the ground. “And may your father never know a shred of peace.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, allowing yourself to slump fully against Az’s body, be supported by it. You’re not sure you can hold yourself up right now.
And it’s not that you disagree with Cass’s statement…you’re just not sure what to feel right now.
You hated your father. Despised him. But—
But that kill was supposed to be yours.
Fin had taken that from you in some fucked up display of…of affection, you supposed. Maybe even of ownership.
“He may not want me dead,” you whisper, “but I don’t think he’s finished with me. He’s surely not going to let me come back to Windhaven as if nothing happened. And what of Roza and the babe? Are they safe with him?”
Rhys gives a slow, meditative shake of his head. He’s exhausted. You’re all exhausted. The smell of blood clings to you. “I checked in with her. Despite what he did, they’re always safe with him. As for everything else…I don’t know what he intends.”
“Change is coming.” Finally, Cassian sits down. “That’s what he said. Over and over again.”
You don’t want change. Not the kind that Fin is probably thinking. You don’t want extravagance or luxury. You just want…this.
This little cottage. Your friends. Your love. Your simple, quiet life.
It feels like it hangs in the balance more than ever.
Eyes open, you’re staring at everything you may just lose. But the second you squeeze them shut, you see such thick, alarming red. Hear the thwack of Tathaln’s head falling. Hear the carnal scream that rips from Kaeda’s throat.
Your heartbeat picks up, and tears prick in your eyes — but Azriel’s arms tighten around you.
“Easy.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head. “I’m right here. All three of us are.”
You know he can’t possibly be as calm as he’s making out. But he’s doing it for you — staying strong for you.
“You should try to sleep, my love.” He murmurs into your hair. “We all should.”
You focus on his warmth, his scent, but the tears keep coming. “I’m not sure I can.”
“Try.” He kisses you again. “For me.”
All you can manage is a relenting nod. And that’s all it takes for him to slide down and pull you with him. He holds you so tightly, as though he’s terrified of letting go. He bundles you against him, wraps a blanket around you both. It can’t be comfortable for him, his wings, but he lays there like it is.
A soft snoring from the armchair tells you that Rhys has already succumbed to exhaustion. You bunch your fingers in the front of Az’s shirt and force your eyes to close, even despite the horrors that await you behind them.
But after a while, you’re aware of the sound of Cassian traipsing to the kitchen. Reaching for the bottle of whiskey that sits mostly drained on the side.
And you realise that in Azriel’s arms, you’d started to drift off, too.
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You wake with a gasping start.
It’s pitch black in the room, besides the dying embers of the fire. Their muted orange glow illuminates the space enough for you to glimpse Rhys, still fast asleep in the chair. Cassian is sprawled out and dozing on the floor.
Any one of you could have stowed away upstairs in the privacy of a bedroom, but…you need each other right now. Each other’s comfort.
You don’t know what the time is; the middle of the night, judging by how dark it is. But there’s a lot of noise and foot traffic that’s carried past the house. You assume it must be Illyrians who have attempted to drown the night’s events in alcohol and are now skulking home.
You try to block it all out. Roll over. But as arms tighten around you and pull you flush against a warm body, you glance up to find Azriel awake, already staring at you.
You stare back.
That’s all you do for a while. Just…stare. Drink each other in. He is so beautiful. So brilliant. Your friend, lover and so much more.
“Hi.” He eventually whispers.
You scan his face. Murmur back, “Hi.”
“You should be sleeping.”
“So should you.”
A small shake of his head. Strands of hair fall from where they were earlier slicked back. The grandeur of the ball seems like eons ago, now.
“I can’t.” He says. “I’m worried about you.”
It’s rare…for him to lay vulnerable thoughts and feelings out like that. You study him again. And you want to reassure him, tell him you’re doing okay — but you’re not. Not right now. And don’t you owe him honesty in return?
“I’m scared.” You admit. Keeping your voice hushed doesn’t stop it from cracking.
Azriel leans down, dropping his forehead against yours. His hand rests at the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles.
After a moment, he asks, “What went on in Velaris?”
You don’t know what to say. It was so easy, in the City of Starlight, to pretend to be someone else. Someone that Fin would desire and eventually trust. So easy to follow a plan unflinchingly.
But back in the frozen grips of Windhaven, you do not feel like that person. You do not know her.
“You said you were scheming.” Az presses. “What went on?”
“I told you…I was trying to convince Fin to reject Tathaln’s idea—”
“Convince him how?”
You swallow. Because you hate the truth. Back in the ordinariness of your Illyrian environment, your behaviour seems so, so bad.
“Did he touch you,” Az breathes.
“No.” You immediately shake your head. “I made him want me. I made him want me so badly that he would trust me and listen to me. I never wanted him to kill for me. And I never wanted him. Every single second I spent there, I just wanted to come back to you—”
His lips fold over yours, and he breathes deep and slow. You waste no time in kissing him back. That kiss is truth, and it’s love.
“Only you, Az.” You whisper as you pull away. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”
But he’s not done with you. His mouth is on yours again, and he promises into it, “I’ve only ever wanted you, too.”
Not merely wanted, but needed. And you need each other now. It doesn’t matter at all that you’re not alone in the room — that Cass and Rhys are sleeping mere footsteps away.
Your hands are on each other, grasping at each other, and your bodies come together. It’s unhurried and quiet. Azriel’s eyes don’t leave yours once, from the second he slides into you and you both gasp onto each other’s mouths.
Every slow thrust is one of love. Every one of them is a promise.
“Whatever happens,” he pants quietly, pleasure straining his voice, “whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”
“Together.” You vow. A tear escapes the corner of your eye, and Azriel leans in to kiss it away.
He holds you as both your climax and his build together. He holds you as you bury into his shoulder to stop you from crying out. He holds you as you clench around his cock and he spills every last drop into you.
And he holds you as you catch your breaths and press your foreheads together, exhaustion beckoning you once more. He’s held you through so much, and he’ll continue to do so to whatever end.
Only when your eyelids are threatening to close does he brush his mouth against yours once more. And he says again, “We’ll face it together.”
There’s a stirring behind you. Cassian rolls over. Croaks out, “Can you quit fucking?”
And then he snores and he’s back to sleep, the fire warming his wings.
You and Az stare at each other and pause. And despite it all — everything that’s happened tonight — you both break into laughter. It vibrates through his chest and into you, the feeling pleasant, reassuring.
He kisses your forehead, a smile still ghosting his lips.
It stays there as he drifts to sleep.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
“What the fuck is that?”
Your groggy eyes wrench open and squint at the weak daylight that filters through the cottage. Both Rhys and Cass have bolted upright. Az, too, is jerked awake.
A thumping lands on the front door, urgent, panicked. Anxiety floods your gut.
“I’m coming, fucking hell.” Rhysand clambers to his feet. He’s dishevelled and uncoordinated as he clambers to the door and rips it open.
“Rhys,” Zakai pants from the other side. “What the fuck is your father playing at?”
“What—”
It’s then that the sound hits you all. The sound of authoritative voices calling out. Of people shouting — arguing — back.
Rhys follows Zakai out of the door. You, Azriel and Cassian share a glance before the three of you are also following.
And what you find outside is…chaos.
The sight of Illyrians fighting is nothing new, but males are being ripped from their houses. Children and wives watch, tears staining their cheeks. Paper and clothes and belongings litter the ground as if they’ve been stolen and discarded. The sky is shadowed by the temporary night of soaring Illyrians
Your wide eyes swivel to a roof a few cottages down — where a male stands upon its tiles, his voice bellowing out. He’s leather-clad and puffed up by his own importance — one of Devlon’s cronies, you think.
He seems unperturbed by the pushback on the ground — the gathering, angered males, as he addresses anyone and everyone around him.
“If I call your name, you’re coming with me! You pack the bare necessities — we leave for Steelshore in thirty minutes!” He announces. “Rahu Sepheron, Venia Char, Falkon Galos, Telarion Krin—”
“He’s lost his damn mind.” Rhys grits his teeth, shaking his head.
“He’s actually doing it.” Ice shoots through your veins, nothing to do with the brisk spring morning. “The High Lord is actually splitting everyone up.”
“Zakai Athalar—”
“Fuck this.” Rhys grabs Zakai’s hand, turning to you, Az, Cassian. “Everyone get back inside. None of us are doing anything or going anywhere until I’ve spoken to my father.”
You don’t hesitate to turn on your feet and pull Azriel with you. You want nothing more than to hole yourself up inside the cottage and pretend that none of this is happening. That anxiety and panic isn’t turning your stomach—
But the second you step foot inside, you’re halting in the doorway so suddenly that Cassian smacks into you from behind.
Fin sits at the table, cleaning his nails with a dagger.
He drinks in the sight of you greedily. Glances down at yours and Azriel’s joined hands. Smiles.
“Do you want to tell me what the fuck you’re playing at?” Rhys pushes past you, storming over. “What the hell is all this?”
“This?” Fin sits back. “This, Rhysand, is the reality of war.”
His son grits his teeth. Clenches his fists. “What.”
“War is upon us. Days, weeks, months away. People will have to fight and people will have to die. It is my duty as High Lord to take necessary action to ensure we come out victorious. If I have to sever some relationships for that outcome, then so be it.”
Cassian barrels forward, nothing but anger given flesh. “And what is this supposed necessary action? Tearing families apart?”
Even he, with his quick temper and loose tongue, would never normally address the High Lord in such a way. But Cassian cares. He’s passionate about what’s right.
And what Fin is doing is not right.
But Fin vaguely smiles and picks an invisible piece of dirt from his jacket. “If need be, Cassian, yes.” He says. “I’m delegating Illyrians where they will serve me best in this war. That includes your cosy little unit here.”
“If we are truly at war,” Azriel says quietly, dangerously, “now is not the time to play games.”
“Who’s playing games, shadowsinger?” Fin shrugs. “Not me.”
You don’t think it’s accidental, the way the High Lord’s eyes slide to you in that moment. You look away, refuse to hold his gaze. You could swear he chuckles quietly as he stands up and tucks his chair in.
“So here’s how it’s going to be.” He rests his forearms atop of the chair. “Rhysand — you will be commanding a legion in Camp Theriel.” He glances — barely — at Zakai. “I do believe your lover has already received a summons to leave for Camp Steelshore, so he should probably run along, lest he gets left behind.”
“Father—”
“Cassian.” He interrupts. “You will remain here, in Windhaven — as a common foot soldier in this war.”
“A foot soldier?” Cass spits. “That’s beneath my rank and you know it. You’re only doing this because you’re threatened by Az, Rhys and I being together. How powerful we are. Everyone knows that.”
Fin simply tsks. “Watch yourself, foot soldier. You don’t want to slip further down the ranks, now, do you—”
“Fin.” Finally, you find your voice. You step forward, despite Azriel trying to yank you back. You stare pleadingly at the High Lord.
He turns to you. His eyes sweep your face. His expression seems to go somewhat…quiet.
You had begun to respect this male in some roundabout way. You don’t think you’d ever have fully trusted him, but…there was an understanding, for a time. An allegiance of sorts.
You’d seen a side to him that so few did. And though it’s nowhere to be seen now…you have to believe that it’s still under there somewhere. You have to.
“Please don’t do this.” You whisper, your eyes filling with tears. “Please. This is our home. Our family.”
At the first sight of a tear rolling down your face, Fin swallows — hard. He clenches his fists at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to reach out and wipe it away.
It seems like so, so long that he stares at you. So long that he seems to be fighting something internally.
So long that a small glimmer of hope ignites in you that perhaps he cares enough to listen.
But then his eyes are shuttering, and he’s looking away. He says, stiffly, “We all have to make sacrifices in war.”
“Fin—”
“Rhysand will go to Camp Theriel. Cassian will stay here.” His eyes open again. He looks from you, to Azriel, back to you. “You and the shadowsinger are coming to Velaris with me.”
“What?!”
“You’d better say your goodbyes.” He squares his shoulders, not looking at you at all, now. “It’ll be a very, very long time before you all see each other again. If you see each other again.”
You open your mouth — to say what, you don’t know.
But Fin disappears before your eyes, leaving you — your family — alone.
What sounds far, far away is Cassian’s outraged ranting. Rhysand cursing his father. Zakai trying to talk to him, calm him down.
You and Azriel are the only two who don’t say a thing. Just stand there in silence.
Because you know you can curse all you like. You can shout and throw things and damn Fin to a miserable existence. It may bring you some temporary reprieve.
But it will not change a thing.
Fin is your High Lord. His mind is made up. This is just the next round in his game.
Your family is being cleaved apart. You stand in that cottage where you all slept in each other’s company — not realising it might be the last time, ever.
Your head roars and your tears keep on coming. But you can do nothing but stare at Azriel. He stares at you, too.
You and the shadowsinger are coming to Velaris with me.
It makes you sick to your stomach. Probably makes Azriel sick to his stomach, also.
But your locked, silent, crestfallen gazes communicate one sacred promise to each other.
Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.
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Authors note: Oooooof how are we all feeling? Good? Bad? Sad? Mad? Tempted to commit arson?
I just wanted to say thank you so much for coming on this journey with me. What started out as a fun little smut piece turned into a whole story I didn’t even know I had in me, but I’ve enjoyed every bit of it — especially hearing from all of you. Your likes, reblogs, comments and asks have meant the world to me through this. Thank you so much for the wonderful responses 🫶🏻
For anyone who didn’t see my answer to an ask regarding this last part — I understand it might not be the ending everyone wanted or expected, but I felt there was still so much potential in the story that I wanted to leave it open to — perhaps — write a sequel at some point. I have so many ideas, and I’m totally willing to talk about it and answer any questions about it you have any!
Thank you, again, for all the support, darlings. And I truly hope you enjoyed Practice On Me. 💕
pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-a-girlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl
910 notes · View notes
arminsumi · 7 months
Note
can i get an eager, inexperienced gojo? he is probably so silly and loving during sexy time but he still acts like a horndog, not sure where to touch, kinda nerv but tryna cover it up bc he’s the strongest sorcerer, ofc he’s been with so many ladies before!!!! (he hasn’t but he doesn’t want YOU to know that)
love your works as always stay safe💗💗💗
AIN'T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE, NO.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟
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NOTE: this made me think of that j. cole song so i looped it while writing all 2.3k of this fic 🥴 i hope u like what i did!! mwaaa smooches!! hope ur well &lt;3
🔞 mdni / 18+ content
SUMMARY — Gojo's saved up his virginity ever since he met you, savoring every wet dream through the years until he finally got the real thing in a hotel room in Okinawa.
WARNINGS — fem reader, n.sfw content, profanity, pre-established relationship
SMUT WARNINGS — virginity loss, light dirty talk, nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, daddy), Gojo's so nervous and inexperienced wheee😩💗, protected sex/condoms used, multiple rounds (2), kitty eating, giving him head, fluffy ending scene, lmk if i have missed smth and pls overlook errors i'm slepy asf it's 2am
Wordcount ≈ 2.3k
Playme ♪ wet dreamz
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
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You can’t miss the way his Addam’s apple shifts up and down when he swallows, or the way he gawks when you wiggle out of your clothes and toss them off the side of the hotel bed.
Where are my hands supposed to go?
He’s thinking that while haphazardly squeezing a large handful of your hips and hotly kissing your neck.
This has been his long-anticipated dream come true… see, Gojo Satoru met you in high school. And the first thing he thought to himself was I want her to take my virginity. So, he had promised himself that one day, when he was older, he was gonna give it to you.
All his cheeky flirting and dirty jokes got him here, in this room of some dreadfully expensive hotel in Okinawa. Yes, he’s cheesy, as cheesy as he was when he used to lean over his desk during high school to whisper dumb pickup lines into your ear; he requested rose petals and wine. He had the lights dimmed. He laid you down with kisses right on top of those strewn petals.
Crazed, feverish, eager, overwhelmed; he was bursting with a bunch of feelings – predominantly horniness. He’s always had that horny twang about him, he was unashamed about it around you – it’s what got you hot for him in the first place, the fact that he was so bold with his dirty jokes and naughty hints.
But now he’s struggling to find his words. Now that smart mouth is sparsely throwing out witty remarks. Now he was heavily relying on comedy to ease his nervousness and mask his inexperienced movements.
He let you roll on top and savored each kiss that you pressed down his chest – heaving, he was heaving and hot already and all the two of you had done so far was romantic French kissing and tentative touches across each other’s bare skin.
The heat of your flushed cheeks seared his lower abdomen.
How low is she gonna go – oh my god what do I do – play it cool – oh my god is she actually – wow this is really happening.
Such a mess of goofy thoughts passed through his mind when you pressed a testing kiss to his glistening cockhead. Giving the slit a lick made his shoulders scrunch up, and his voice shook a bit, “Shit, baby, you don’t have to do that if you don’t w – want to… oh fuck…”
“But I’ve wanted to suck it so bad, I’ve thought about it so much.” You batted your eyes at him.
His stomach flipped.
“O-okay… ” he breathed. In the back of his mind, he was self-conscious about sounding like a virgin… because he totally was. And he wasn’t masking it very well when you started kissing and licking on his cock.
Feling your tongue swirl circles around his bulbous head, then swiping the underside, nearly made him bust right there. It took every bit of this strong boy’s strength to hold it in. And there was a lot to hold in.
“Oh that’s so fucking good.” He moaned.
You lowered your lips down his slickened cock, the warmth and texture of it delighting your tongue. Taking in his scent, his taste, his sounds – when you hollowed out your cheeks and suctioned your lips around him, he let out an uneasy moan. He was really gonna bust right there in your mouth if he didn’t tell you to ease up.
“B-baby, you’re so good at that – but – but fuckkk – slow down f’me…” he pleaded, big hand coming to the back of your head as you slid off his cock – that also almost made him bust. Oh god, you unknowingly edged him. Maybe you knew that, because you giggled at the way his cock jumped and visibly twitched after popping your lips off of it.
“Sorry, you good?” you asked him sweetly. He looked at you through lust-glazed eyes, his lower lip glistening with a bit of drool.
“ ‘m okay – fuck come here and get on your back. ‘Wanna do that to you too.” He commanded you, eagerly shuffling positions.
He lowered his face between your legs, marvelling at the shiny wet sheen smeared across your inner thigh. A thin web of juice connected from your hole.
“Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare.” He chuckled, joking to lighten his nerves. But earning a laugh from you made his heart flutter before he dove right into it – now here’s where you realized something.
He was inexperienced. Totally. Sweetly so. His tongue flicked and darted around, swiping along your slit, gathering your juices like he was thirsty. The way he licked you up felt like he was some college boy giving his crush head in a lucid dream.
But if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s that he can do anything he tries. You started out giggling and squirming on his face, and ended up squealing his name and arching your back. Switching between suckling at your clit and lapping at your folds and slipping his buttery tongue into your hole – he was having fun figuring it out.
And my god, he had the biggest, smuggest, most smackable grin on his face when he made you cum.
“W-wipe that grin off your face.” You panted, half-dazed from your orgasm.
His grin only grew wider. Now he was feeling a bit cocky, a little high on a sugar rush of confidence because he just made the girl of his dreams cum from a little amateur tongue-fucking.
“You musta really wanted it bad, huh?” he teased, crawling up to meet your face and pressing a few wet, sloppy kisses to your awaiting lips. You could taste yourself, and he was conscious of that – and it made him almost bust on your tummy. You felt his cock jumping and twitching and throbbing against your skin.
“Don’t get all smug now…” you muttered.
His plumped, flushed lips hovered over your face. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered jokingly, wiping your juice off his cheek with his thumb and suckling it off.
“Hahaha what!” you broke out laughing. “You’re ridiculous!”
He ran his tongue over his lips to tease you, “Tasted better than in my dreams.”
Now that made you flush hotter underneath him. Because for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to you that he had wet dreams of you. But he did. And he was too embarrassed to admit the number – it was big. He dreamed of you a lot. Especially taking you from the back… so naturally
“Turn around f’me, please?” he asked, “I wanna see you from the back.”
Your lack of hesitation to switch positions for him made his heart thump.
“Good girl…” he muttered under his breath, unsure of how you’d take the nickname. But hearing your giggly hum and seeing your hips wiggle up to his pelvis reassured him that you liked it.
So he engulfed you from behind, “You like that?” he whispered into your ear, big hand smoothing over the curves of your body to get a good feel of it. “Want me to call you a good girl?”
You nodded into the plush pillow, “Yes please. I like it.” You mumbled into the fabric.
“Can’t hear you, speak up.” He smiled against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Daddy’s hard of hearing.” He joked.
You rolled your eyes at his dumb goofiness. For some reason you thought it would switch off in the bedroom, but no – he was just as much as a dumb good in and out of bed.
“ ‘call me your good girl, please. I like it.”
His cock twitched. He’d started rubbing and pressing his cock into you from the back. The way your thighs and plush little pussy hugged him was better than any dream – lucid or not. And he’s had a lot of lucid wet dreams of you. Of this, specifically; taking you from behind. In his dreams, he’s pounding into you so good that you cream and cream and cream all over him. He just hopes he can actually achieve that in reality.
When he lowers his hands and fists his cock a bit before running the head between your folds, a pang of nervousness strikes his chest. That feeling came over him – that realization that oh, I’m gonna have my first time.
“So pretty…” he compliments, one hand soothingly caressing around your pussy.
To you, it almost feels like he might have done this before – you’re not sure – with the way he lightly smacks his cock on your hole, and the way he tests your smallness by slipping his tip in and out, you think he’s probably got at least a bit of experience under his belt.
But no. No, not at all. Not even a little bit. In fact, before you, he only kissed two people – and the first didn’t count to him because he hated it, and the second also didn’t count apparently because he was just practicing with Suguru in anticipation of kissing you one day.
“Fuck me…” he hissed through his gritted teeth when he finally sunk more than his tip through your hole.
“Fucking didn’t expect it to feel this good…” he thought out loud. “Might bust right here… fuck.” He blurted, then proceeded to boyishly blush.
Little hole squeezing on his virgin cock, hips wiggling back to meet his pelvis and take him deeper, you pawed behind you to feel him. “Baby, I-I gotta tell you something.” He begins embarrassedly, the nervous twang in his voice is so unfamiliar that you look back at him. “I’ve never done this before…” after he said that he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your hole tightening and untightening.
You blink at him, and he’s worried for a split second before you smile sheepishly and tell him that he’s your first, too. Well, that little fun fact is what made him snap his hips against your ass and start fucking into you like he was some sort of crazed animal. He felt dizzied with the rush of pleasure, so stirred by the feeling of your pussy sucking his cock – there was no comparable thing in the world to him right then. He was definitely gonna become a sex-crazed fiend after this night, he thought. Absolutely. How could he not?
“S’toruuu – right there right there!” you cried out his name with such a pretty, strained voice that it made him want to tell you he loves you.
“Here? You like it here?” he hit that spot harder and harder, the squelching sound so dirty that you almost felt ashamed for a second. “My good girl gonna cum like this? Yeah? F-fuck t-t-tell me when you’re close ‘cause I’m close – really fucking close – fuck fuck fuck ahhh ‘gonna cum!”
He’s driving into that sweet spot while he cums, spilling a warm creamy mess into the condom – completely falling to pieces. Gojo’s always been inclined to obsessing over things, and he knows right then – when he cums with your quivering pussy sucking him in – that he’s gonna be obsessing over sex with you after this.
“Keep goinggg ‘m gonna cum too, please!” you whimpered from underneath him. He heard you, he was attentive even though he was panting and dazed. His thrusts got sloppy and he weighted on your body more heavily, you could feel his heartbeat.
“Good girl – g-good girl, rub your pretty clit. Want me to do it for you? M’kay sweet thing, lemme get you there – ah yeah? That feel good? You like daddy’s fingers toying with this pretty pussy? Oh fuck you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he breathed all that into your ear and it absolutely destroyed you, especially with how those intense blue eyes piercingly stared down at you from behind.
“Get that relief, pretty girl – cum all over me. Fuck, there we go – oh wow…” he hit another sweet spot, feeling you gush and writhe under his imposing frame got him close again. “Fuck, baby – just a second, j-just a second ‘m gonna get ‘nother condom, n-need to fucking cum in that pussy again.” He pulled out quick, fingers struggling to free his cock of his already filled lil’ rubber. Squeezing into another one was one of the fastest yet most frustrating things he’s done in a while – oh, you just know that he’s gonna ditch the condoms as soon as you give him the green light to do so. Patience, he thought. He’s gonna need patience and a lot of rubbers.
“Ah fuck me! Satoru!” you arched your back when he re-entered.
“ ‘m gonna cum again, baby – fuck – s-sorry is it too much?” he breathed into your neck. Sweat beaded down his torso, down his thighs – both your bodies pricked with just enough sweat to make it erotically uncomfortable.
You barely managed to tell him that it wasn’t too much because of the way he was sloppily hitting his cockhead into your pussy. Feverish, dazed, pussy-drunk and love-drunk, you felt his hot lips nibbling at your shoulder, then he unexpectedly sank his teeth into your skin. It wasn’t sore, but those canines were a bit sharp.
Muffled moans on your skin sent a shiver down your back, one that travelled to your ass and thighs.
Rolling off to the side, panting and laying exhausted and unmoving.
“Fuck.” He muttered as if to say that was mind-blowing.
“Fuck.” You agreed.
“And ya didn’t even tell me you were a virgin!”
“You didn’t tell me, either!” you giggled, rolling into his embrace.
“But it’s hot if the girl is a virgin!”
You laughed with him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.
He stayed silent for a little while, pulling you closer and caressing your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling.
“It’s embarrassing.” He admitted. “There was a time I wanted to lose my virginity just so that when I finally got to you, I’d be able to please you better. But I’m glad I waited…”
“Mmm really?” you hummed, he felt your smile print on his chest.
“…yeah.” You could hear his little smile in his voice. “I’m glad I gave it to you.”
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rvfecamerons · 1 month
Text
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》 THE CUT THAT ALWAYS BLEEDS — rafe cameron x reader
word count — 4.5k+
warnings — MDNI; dark!rafe, NONCON, abusive relationship, domestic violence + mentions of, mentions of attempted murder, swearing, gaslighting/manipulation, ngl it’s dark and sad :( lmk if i’m missing anything!!
summary — valentine’s day goes surprisingly well with rafe, but at what cost?
a/n — happy valentine’s day lovelies 💕💕 enjoy rafe ruining our day bc it’s all i’ve been able to think about!!! <3 also i’m gonna keep the regular font for the first time (i think) on a full length fic so lmk if u absolutely hate it or whatever 😫
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You could vaguely remember a time when you used to genuinely look forward to Valentine’s Day, but that wasn’t the case anymore; hadn’t been for awhile. It just seemed like a day where the normal, romantic couples rubbed their healthy, committed relationships in your bruised and battered face.
Seeing girls gush over their boyfriends on Instagram; seeing the extravagant ways their men would go all out for them without even being asked or prompted, only made you realize how far gone your own relationship had become.
Rafe would berate you, hit you, hurt you physically; yet everytime he did something wrong, you were somehow the one who ended up apologizing to and comforting him, begging him to stay. Empty promises of straightening up his act and treating you better kept you hopeful, stringing you along; but Rafe went back on them every single time. The fact that you still longed for Rafe when he was away, still wanted nothing more than to be under him and to gain his approval when he was mad at you for something, made you feel so…worthless. You hated the lack of respect you had for yourself to let the cycle continue, which was all it ever did.
Rafe’s violent tendencies had only been on an upward trend recently, and while most of the threats he spoke of were just talk, you started seriously fearing for your life the last time he lashed out on you physically.
You tried not to think about it, but it was hard not to feel Rafe’s hands still wrapped around your throat when you tried to take a breath. It was even harder not to see his facial features, contorted into that terrifying look you’d never seen before, each time you closed your eyes. Rafe choked you, to the point where you almost blacked out, during a blackout rage of his own.
It was something he’d never done before, and it rendered you too dazed and weak to fight back in the moment. That’s when Rafe started kicking at your ribs and back repeatedly; screaming insults and profanities and threats against your life, all while you laid curled into a ball on the floor.
You slept with one eye open that night, for the hour or so of sleep you actually managed to get. You were up writhing in pain for the most part, then had to spend the entire day recovering in your bed the next morning, and the subsequent days that followed.
It gave you a lot of time to truly assess the severity of the situation you were in.
You used to wonder why people stayed with abusive partners, until Rafe came along. The teather he kept around you was wound so many times around his wrist, you hardly had any freedoms of your own. Your brain knew he was no good for you, but your heart continuously tried to convince you there was reason to stay; that you could eventually pull the same loving, tender side from Rafe that you knew when you first started dating.
But he continued to prove time and time again just how untrue your heart’s claims could be.
The truth was, you did want to leave. But Rafe made your exit so small, you could hardly even find it.
A week had passed since that violent altercation, yet it was still fresh in your mind. Thankfully, you’d healed up enough just in time for Valentine’s Day, thanks in part to Rafe being uncharacteristically kind and attentive. He’d been close to your side ever since the night you were working to suppress from your memory, tending to anything you needed - finding the best pain medicines, fetching whatever food you wanted, sitting with you, talking and having real conversations with you - all things that would be expected of a normal boyfriend, which Rafe Cameron was anything but…
Or so you thought.
For the past week, Rafe had been reminding you a lot of the Rafe you met, the one you fell in love with in the first place. That Rafe would’ve never done anything to hurt you.
As you sat on the mend from the new version you’d come to know, you started to think there might actually be a chance to keep this Rafe around; especially with the way he’d been talking lately.
He’d apologized for his actions that night, an actual, sincere apology; spewing on about how he knew things hadn’t been good between the two of you for some time, but he wanted to be better, and he would make everything up to you today.
Rafe started the day out sweeter than he’d ever been towards you in a long, long time.
This change in demeanor continued throughout the whole holiday, Rafe showering you in kisses and small gifts, which he told you would all lead up to your big gift at the dinner he planned to treat you to tonight.
Along with the sweet gestures came a series of even sweeter words, ones that meant more to you than any monetary or tangible gift. Rafe promised to put a better foot forward in your relationship.
The fact that he recognized his wrongdoings only planted more seeds of hope within you, that he really did have plans to change. It comforted you in a way, the fact that Rafe was willing to admit the harrowing truth out loud.
…Which is why you felt so terribly conflicted.
You hadn’t spoken a word to anyone - not that there was really anyone to speak to, since your boyfriend had already successfully isolated you from your friends and most of your family quite some time ago - but your mind had started venturing off to thoughts of a possible life without Rafe.
Despite the 180 in his demeanor, you couldn’t forget the way it felt to be within inches of losing your life, especially at the cruel hands of someone you had nothing but love for.
It was hard to fathom, and even harder to picture a version of you that wasn’t a subsequent extention of the oldest Cameron.
Especially on one of his good days like today, which were typically few and far between. 
He’d been the perfect textbook boyfriend since the sun rose, all you could ever ask for… all you’d been asking for. At some point though, you became hyperaware that this could potentially be your last Valentine’s Day with Rafe.
You wanted better for yourself; you didn’t want to live in fear for your life, and you knew you’d never be able to shake the worry that Rafe might do something like that again.
…But he was catering to your every liking so well, and the dinner he reserved for the two of you only made you feel even more conflicted.
It was straight out of your dreams from start to finish, and Rafe’s big gift to you was a complete 6 piece jewelry collection, real gold, the most expensive money could buy. It hit you even harder, because encapsulated in the necklace was the very first picture the two of you had ever taken together. It brought tears to your eyes right there at the dinner table, and Rafe held your hand across the wooden surface as you admired the gift. Again, it gave you hope that Rafe really did want to change.
And that’s what he wanted you to think.
He’d been playing his cards right, that’s for sure.
While you took everything as an apology for that night, and for his overall abusive behavior towards you, in Rafe’s eyes, it’s Valentine’s Day. It’s his job to do the corny, romantic, if not insincere gestures.
Of course he felt bad after seeing how long you were forced to recover in bed after he lashed out on you, and he surely gave you plenty of time and help for your recovery.
But all he could focus on today, all he could seem to think about was how you were planning on thanking him at the end of the night.
That was the girlfriend’s job on Valentine’s Day, he decided.
Rafe had no doubts in his mind that you would try to come onto him once he got you home, too enamored with your gifts and impressed with your boyfriend’s efforts not to.
So when the two of you got home and got settled for the night, changing into your pajamas and crawling into bed, and you laid next to him and started kissing him, Rafe got excited. He was more than ready to let you take the reigns for once, to make him feel good after he made you feel so good all day.
…So imagine his complete and utter surprise when you pulled away from his lips and he thought for sure you were repositioning yourself to straddle him…only for you to smile and bid him a sincere ‘goodnight’, voicing your love for him before rolling over, and facing the other way.
Almost like you were…going to sleep.
Were you seriously going to just go to sleep and let him stay up with his erection after the night he just treated you to? Let all of his hard work just go to waste?
You were, he realized when you settled into the mattress further, letting out a long sigh and curling into the blanket.
…But you didn’t feel the other side of the bed move at all, and that was your first sign that something was wrong.
The scoff that rang out behind you was your second sign, followed by Rafe’s snarky voice.
“…Seriously? That’s it?”
You tensed up, already hearing the side of your boyfriend you dreaded coming through his tone…and you knew immediately what he was getting at.
Rafe waited for your reaction, and a sarcastic laugh followed seconds later when you didn’t give him one.
Maybe if you just pretended to fall asleep, he would leave you alone…
You couldn’t see it, but Rafe’s eyes never left you from the moment you turned over.
He shook his head; he was already hard, so Rafe was even more pissed, and his voice was laced with disappointment as he muttered, “Unbelievable.”
His hard gaze was waiting for you when you did finally turn back to face him, a scowl fixed his direction as you narrowed your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you started sarcastically, propping yourself up on your elbows.
“Do I need to remind you what that dinner was even for?”
Rafe waved you off mid-sentence, settling down into the bed and starting to pull the covers up when you sat up and grabbed them, yanking the material from his grip.
Rafe rolled his eyes and ran his hands over his face a couple of times, “you’re still on that?”
He scoffed, sitting up now too and throwing the covers back even further before standing from the bed as he let out a sarcastic laugh.
“God, are you fucking stupid?” He questioned, turning back around to face you with a hand on his hip. “That dinner was not an apology.”
You could only stare at your boyfriend in disbelief.
“You just gonna take every good thing I do for you as some sort of-of admission of guilt?” Again, he laughed. It had such a bitter ring to it, you physically flinched.
“That was me doing the shit a boyfriend is supposed to do for his girlfriend on Valentine’s Day. Sue me I guess, for expecting you to fulfill some of your girlfriend duties for once.”
That comment got you going.
If anyone had been a dutiful partner throughout the entirety of the relationship, it was without a doubt not Rafe. You stayed by his side, aiding and abetting in all of his crimes against you from the start, never breathing a word to anyone else about the trials he put you through.
You sprang to your feet too, both of you now standing on opposite sides of the bed.
You waved an accusatory finger Rafe’s direction as the two of you began going at it, screaming over each other. Neither of you really gave much thought to what the other person was saying, only focused on getting your own points across.
When Rafe made another comment about today being nothing but a mere routine for him and his girlfriend, you could no longer put a filter on your feelings.
“Well maybe I don’t wanna be your girlfriend anymore!”
You blurted out the thought before you really had time to mull it over. Rafe tended to pull the impulsive side out of you, especially during arguments.
The admission had the both of you falling incredibly quiet, so much so, you could surely hear a pin drop.
And honestly, the silence elicited more fear within you than the screaming match did. It was easy to tell what Rafe was feeling when he was making it known verbally with a raised voice, but the man was almost impossible to read when he fell silent.
Rafe’s icy blue gaze was unmoving as he stared at you, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him either. You felt like it would be the least smart thing to do, and studying Rafe’s face, he almost seemed to be taken aback by such a confession.
Was it really that shocking though, especially given the fact that not even a day ago he’d admitted things hadn’t been going well between the two of you lately?
The warning signs of his anger began to show, and the nervous shuffling of your feet on the carpet was the next sound to fill the air.
Rafe’s muscles flexed in the confines of his shirt as his hands balled into fists at his sides; his chest began to rise and fall at a gradually quicker pace now.
When his head tilted to the side, you swallowed hard.
“…The fuck did you just say?”
The harsh bite behind his tone made you flinch. Something was instantly screaming at you to create more space between the two of you; an inner voice you’d grown accustomed to hearing from throughout your turmultuous relationship with Rafe. Instinctively, you found yourself taking a cautious step backwards.
It was immediately matched by an even longer stride forward on Rafe’s part.
Another step was only followed by the same outcome. This repeated over a series of seconds until you finally felt your back brush against the wall; Rafe having effectively cornered you there.
Though it was a compromising position you’d found yourself in time and time again with Rafe, your body’s response to him practically corralling you into a confined space never got any better. Your blood always felt hot, heating your skin when Rafe got this close to you in one of his moods. Your mouth always went dry, your head always began to reel with things you could say or do to try to get him to ease off of you, and nine times out of ten, it was to no avail.
Fight or flight mode had kicked in, yet you couldn’t will your feet to move as Rafe glared down his nose at you, nostrils flaring with each breath he took. Part of you tried to tell yourself that he wouldn’t hurt you again, not after the week you’d shared together.
But the second Rafe drew his hand back, you squeezed your eyes shut and clenched your teeth together, bracing for the impact. It followed swiftly, the back of Rafe’s strong hand colliding with the side of your face with such force, you felt like all the wind had been knocked out of you.
Your head whipped to the side, and bringing your hand to your cheek’s aid only seemed to intensify the stinging sensation blooming there. Red welts were sure to follow suit. You stayed cowered down in front of Rafe, body turned to the side as you felt hot tears surface and spill over.
When the ringing in your ears began to settle, Rafe’s breathing could be heard again, heavier now than it had been before.
Only a few moments were offered to recollect your composure before a set of rough fingers curled in around one of your wrists, snatching it and yanking you upright.
“Care to repeat that?” The snarkiness behind his words only disappointed you more, on today of all days.
Your tearful gaze was greeted by a much harder, more serious one when you craned your neck up.
You were in disbelief as you stared up at your boyfriend, and eventually, you shook your head.
“You know, I can’t believe, that for a second,” your voice was weak, words choppy as you struggled to speak over the painful lump in your throat. Rafe’s grip on your wrist seemed to tighten in warning, but you paid it no mind as you continued.
“…for one second I thought, maybe things could be like they used to be for us…”
More tears fell, but you tried your best to stand your ground.
“But I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Rafe’s entire demeanor switched instantly. 
You saw his jaw tick once, twice, three times before he suddenly snatched your hair in an unforgiving grip, and you cried out as you were dragged backwards, legs tangling and feet tripping over each other. You hardly had time to register what was happening before Rafe roughly slung you around onto the bed. He was so careless with his actions, overestimating his strength and slinging you so hard that your head ended up hitting the headboard.
You let out a scream upon impact, but your pain was only met with a dark laugh from Rafe; though you struggled to pinpoint what exactly could be humorous about this whole situation. You supposed the only joke was you thinking your boyfriend could��actually redeem himself; and thinking all of the things he said and did for you in the past week were actually genuine.
When the haughty laughter finally settled, you were trying to inch yourself backwards on the bed by your elbows, but Rafe was quick to grab your ankles and pull you back down, forcing you to lay in front of him as he stood at the foot of the bed.
He didn’t look like the same person now that you’d spend such a rare good day with, but instead the one you’d seen a week ago; the one you saw every time Rafe put his hands on you, or forced himself on you.
You watched his large hands go for his belt, and your protests were immediate.
“No,” you choked out, shaking your head through your tears and attempting to draw your legs up away from him again, “no, please-,”
You didn’t even see his hand leave his waistline, it was just suddenly rearing back again, and you were cut off by another stinging slap to the face.
“Shut up,” Rafe spat, pulling at your legs and straightening them back out again, “and stop fucking moving.”
You fought hard against him even as your head spun; pushing at his hard chest each time he tried to lean down over you; flailing your legs around, hoping to get a knee inbetween his own if you were lucky.
But your luck ran out when you crossed paths with Rafe Cameron in the first place. He easily overpowered you, eventually wedging his way inbetween your legs as they dangled off the edge of the bed. This new position kept you from being able to use your legs to defend yourself, and your arms were next. Rafe was able to pin both of the limbs above your head with just a single hand around your wrists, the other working to free his erection from his pants.
You heard the sound of his belt buckle unfastening, heard the expensive khaki fabric fall and pool at his ankles, yet your brain was in denial that was this even happening. Today had taken such a horrible turn, a total contrast to the tune your boyfriend had played earlier. 
But Rafe had planned on this from the start; the only difference was, he had to work a little harder to make it happen now.
Once his own pants were taken care of, the only thing separating Rafe from having his way with you was your silk pajama shorts. He worked on those next, grip only tightening on your wrists when you stirred around as he began pawing at the thin material. You were unable to close your legs in the position you were in, so Rafe had to physically rip the shorts from your body.
Your words and pleads weren’t enough to deter him, tears weren’t enough either, so you resigned to admitting defeat, trying to relax your muscles now in preparation for what Rafe made clear was coming.
He must’ve felt your muscles untense, breathing out a low, “mhmm, there you go. Relax. It’s gonna happen either way, sweetheart.”
The pet name made you cringe, especially given the circumstances.
He let out a scoff as he rubbed his leaking tip against your entrance, lubricating your otherwise dry folds.
“Talkin’ about, you don’t know who I am anymore,” Rafe muttered more so to himself, almost so low that you couldn’t even hear it over your own whimpers and cries.
He was louder when he spoke again though, “You wanna see who I am?”
The skin of your wrists stung, now red  and twisted as Rafe’s fingers curled impossibly tighter around them. When you only cried out in response, he taunted, “huh?”
His tip was suddenly inside of you, and the stretch from that alone had you wincing.
“…This is who I am baby.”
That was all Rafe said before he thrusted into you, completely filling you to the brim on the very first go.
It was only once he was inside of you that he finally let go of your wrists, but you were now too focused on the searing pain between your legs to try to fight back. Your arms curled in slowly, and Rafe repositioned himself, planting a knee on either side of the mattress to get a better angle. When he found it, he ran with it, pounding into you mercilessly.
Each time you tried to close your eyes or turn your head, Rafe was there; a hand on your jaw squeezing tight enough to bruise, serving to keep your eyes on him.
You couldn’t bring yourself to respond emotionally, but your body reacted to his unwanted touch. You felt betrayed by your own self when you felt your walls grow slicker, allowing Rafe to turn up the intensity.
A particularly harsh thrust had you letting out a scream that lacked any real sustanence. Rafe’s hand slapped over your mouth anyway, and he couldn’t help but stiffle a laugh as the action got him thinking.
“You know…” His own voice was strained, speaking through panted breaths as he continued rutting into you. One hand kept your hip pinned to the bed while the other dropped from your jaw, down your throat.
“You coulda had a nice dinner…woulda had you screaming; made you come so many times. Woulda been the best sleep of your life.”
You brought your own hands to his arm, nails digging into the skin as his hand clamped further around your throat, now starting to restrict your airways.
He leaned down, his body weight serving to pin you even further into the mattress as his face got dangerously close to your own. His lips brushed against yours, almost in a teasing manner, like he wanted to kiss you but wouldn’t. His eyes were almost…lustful as they bored into you, until suddenly, that gleam was lost, and Rafe’s face dropped.
“But now I don’t give a fuck if you come or not.”
He trailed his lips around to the side of your face, nibbling at the flesh of your lobe before seething directly in your ear, “…but don’t worry baby, m’gonna make you scream no matter what.”
With that, Rafe straightened himself back out and used his hold on you to fuck you deeper into the mattress, the tip of his cock hitting places inside of you that you were sure had never been explored before. The pain was all too much to bare, but your clear discomfort and suffering didn’t amuse him. If anything, it only egged him on even more.
His eyes all but rolled back in his head as the high he was chasing began to feel more and more tanglible. The tenseness of your muscles had you involuntarily squeezing the life out of his own muscle, a feeling so euphoric for Rafe. It paired with the warm slickness you’d produced, both adding to his arousal and making his assault much easier.
His climax was approaching fast now, and Rafe moved a hand from your hip to your stomach, pressing down and revelling in the way his tip could be felt prodding at his palm. His other hand tightened around your throat, no mind paid to the strain already evident on your face. Stars had just started to overtake your vision when a series of grunts and groans, whimpers even filled the air. Rafe spilled his seed inside of you, emptying load after load and adding to the stickiness of your tight walls. He admired the warmness of your cunt, keeping his cock lodged inside even after he finished. Rafe worked to catch his breath as he relinquished his grip on your throat, using the hand to prop himself up and eventually unsheathing himself once he felt satisfied.
As his hips retreated and his cock was pulled from your folds, Rafe mumbled out a quick, “happy fucking Valentine’s Day.”
The sudden emptiness between your legs was uncomfortable, but it was nothing compared to the emptiness you felt in your heart. 
You felt absolutely defeated as your mind slowly unfogged, and the severity of the situation began to wash over you. The whole time you thought your boyfriend was working to redeem himself, he was actually just trying to set himself up to score at the end of the night. You already hadn’t been intimate in awhile due to Rafe’s behavior and antics, and you never foresaw the night taking such a horrendous turn.
You curled in on yourself, bringing your legs to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You laid on your side; the silk top hanging loosely from your shoulders was the only piece of clothing you had on.
Shivers wracked your body, and you couldn’t stop the tears from turning into full on sobs into the duvet.
Rafe had been fetching a towel from the bathroom, only bothering to clean himself up before he was back at the foot of the bed. You hadn’t moved an inch the entire time he was in there, and just one look at you lying on the bed crying had the kook rolling his eyes at your dramatics.
“Oh for God’s sake, calm down.” He slapped at the back of your thigh once, and your body jolted slightly.
“Get ahold of yourself and stop pretending like this isn’t your fault. Threatening to break up with me? On Valentine’s Day? I mean, Jesus Christ.”
When you still made no efforts to move or even acknowledge him at all, Rafe sighed and grabbed your arm, pulling you up with less force than he’d exerted earlier. He gave you no choice but to face him, but looking into his eyes only brought on more tears. His hand moved to cup your jaw, again much less rough this time. He shook your face slightly in his hand as he lowered himself down to your eye level, fixing you with a faux pout.
“How’s that for a Happy Valentine’s Day?”
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fire-lizard-ro · 3 months
Note
Ohoho Sunday thoughts you say? >:D this is loosely based on the prior ask? But I was just thinking how Sunday would probably try (keyword try) to remain pure and abstain from s*x before marriage, yknow? But when he finally does have you as his own, all bets are off. Angel boi is horny and wants you :( in his mind: it’s pure and simple yet beautiful lovemaking between two souls :( and in my love deprived ass I would melt because I know he’d be big on giving and receiving praise fjgjgjgj even would enjoy the idea of extending the Family if you were down for it (whether or not you could, he enjoys the idea of it) ((also he likes control so))
And don’t get me staarttteddd on his sweet aftercare and pillow talk D: oml you’d quite literally be on cloud nine!! He is too tho :) and he cannot help himself from just being so sweet and genuine orz
ohhHHHHH- Y e s I like this quite a bit. Need this to take a break from the angst I’ve been cookin up with a certain someone (you know who you are OTL).
Fair warning y’all are gonna end up seeing me write a fic about him that is blatantly blasphemous with religious themes (pretends like I’m not already working on one like that with Argenti).
Anyways- Back to this.
Thank you so much for the ask~ I love Sunday so much. <333333
CW: possessive behavior, cumming inside, fluff!!! (crazy I know how very almost off brand of me-), maybe some blasphemous thoughts? (idk that they count with aeons but hey-), marking, breeding kink (he’s saying it regardless of whether you are able to have children or not bc regardless it’s h o t -), praise
Reader gender: gender neutral (I tried not to say anything that would be too telling about what sex the reader is so please read it as such! I don’t think I said anything that was like that-)
So going off the last ask, we’re going to assume that he likes you enough to feel great affection for you. Enough to want you. To feel his own carnal desires rear their head even before you’ve married. It manifests in his seemingly innocent yet wandering hands. A hand on your waist as he passes by you. His hands drifting dangerously low when you hug. Leaning in close to talk to you. Lips making their way down from your forehead to your cheek to the corner of your lips. The placement of his kiss making its way to your lips slowly with every goodbye kiss.
But at some point, he can’t really stop himself from at least using those pretty hands of his on you- Along with that silver tongue and sinful mouth. He’ll make you feel so incredibly good, plunging his long fingers into you and taking you into his mouth. He’s lick and suck at you and even slide his tongue inside you. Perhaps the taste of you would be enough to tide him over until you were properly his- Married to him. It would have to be enough because you deserved to have a perfect wedding and perfect wedding night.
But aeons that doesn’t stop him from pleasuring you with what he can before then in order to hopefully keep himself in line. Even as his cock aches with the need to have you, he’ll just hold you down and whisper sweet promises in your ear. Even if you beg him, he won’t. Just wait for him baby just a little longer-
But after the ceremony is over and the afterparty is done and the guests all leave-
Oh dear. You’re finally left alone with your hungry fian- husband. You’re finally left alone with your absolutely famished husband. And you’re on the menu.
It begins like how many of your other encounters of sexual nature begin.
Sweet kisses that make it seem like he wants to swallow you whole.  Gentle hands taking in the feel of you in his arms. Trailing kisses down your throat, eyes closed in ecstasy because you were finally his now. He can have you with no regrets. All that waiting was for this moment. When he could finally have you wholly. And that makes this moment in the warm light of the bedside lamp and the cooler shades of the moon all the sweeter.
Wetted fingers stretching you in preparation for something larger, taking their time in their task despite knowing you well by then. Because even if this was to get you ready to become one with him- He’s wants to draw as much pleasure from you as possible. This is a special night for the two of you. One he will cherish completely and one he wants to make perfect for you. His arm would be holding him up, cradled behind your head for you to lean on while he molds himself to your side. Even as you whine and roll your hips into the curl of his fingers inside you, pressing on that special spot inside you, he kisses your cheeks gently with soothing words. “Good… very good, my love. Just a little more- I want you to finish on my fingers first. Can you do that for me, my sweet? I know you can-”
Just as he gives you your first orgasm of the night, he takes your lips once more while gently coaxing your through the waves of pleasure. He’s so soft, guiding you through the dance even while your mind goes blank for a bit as he watches your expression. “That’s it. I’ve got you.”
It’s then that he kisses you almost chastely before beginning his journey down your body to have his prize. The prize being whatever he’s managed to pull from you. He’d lick it from your body in broad strokes as though he were tasting honey dribbled over your form, caressing your every curve as he went.
Sunday would dribble lube over himself, a hand slathering the viscous substance over his cock in pumping motions. It was almost erotic watching him. The way he'd squeeze just a little at the top and you would watch his hardness twitch and drool between his fingers. But when you look up, the angelic man would only be looking at you. Gazing lovingly- longingly at you.
That's how it always was. Ever since meeting, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off you. You were simply radiant to him. Unlike anything or anyone else he'd ever seen.
Leaning over you to settle himself between your legs, Sunday would give you another kiss before asking if you were ready. While waiting for your answer, he'd go back to nip and lick at your neck. He wanted to mark you for all to see- You were his. His lover, his spouse, his soulmate. His. No one else's. He would love and care for you in every way, he'd think to himself.
And no- Don't just nod at him. "I need to hear you say it, dove. Please? For me, my dear?" Once you'd given him your clear consent, he'd bring you into a deep kiss while lining himself up with your stretched out, wet entrance. He can't even bring himself to tease you a little. Though the thought crossed his mind, he knew he'd been waiting far too long for this.
Once he was in the proper place, he'd rest his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing in each other's air while he looks down at where the two of you would be connected, fingers drifting to fondle you in order to distract from any possible pain you may feel with a gentle hum.
As Sunday would finally push in, cockhead popping inside, he'd gasp against your lips with twitching hips he had to force still. "Are you alright, love?" Taking a moment for himself to regain his composure and steel himself, he'd hide away in the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent and feel your pulse beneath his soft lips. Once you were ready it would be but a slow rock of his hips, moving gently inside you, to eventually sheath himself completely inside. As he worked himself into your tightness, Sunday would whisper sweet words into your ears in a whisper, as though the words were only for the two of you despite no one else being around- The words would come in between kisses while he rubbed a hand up and down your side to comfort you, the hand occasionally straying to rub your sex or pluck at your nipples to distract you from the strain of this part of the night.
Once bottomed out, your ass resting in the cradle of his hips with his body covering yours, he would ask you if you're alright and give you time to adjust. It's all praises here, the man telling you just how good you are for him and saying that you're doing wonderfully. After some time passes and you rock your hips against his to test your comfort, a small moan would be startled out of him before it devolves into a chuckle. "Are you ready, my love?"
It'd start with hip just grinding into you, firm but slow and accompanied by a pleasured sigh from him. He'd hold back none of his sounds because he wanted you to know how good you made him feel. Then he'd pull out only just a bit before thrusting himself back in. At some point he had begun to properly fuck you, the push and pull like the rocking of a boat on a gentle sea. This was making love. And after angling his hips, he found your sweet spot he'd only ever touched with those pretty fingers of his.
It'd be a struggle to not lose himself in you. In your all-consuming presence and the pleasure you gave him- In the love you showed him as you reached up to bring him close with a whimper of his name. It was like hearing the gospel fall from your lips. And they might as well have been. For now you were his everything. His god, his true Harmony. Were you to say it, it would be so. And right now, you were telling him that it felt good and asking him to keep going. So, he would.
With teeth gently marking all the places he'd been, his darkened eyes would watch the way you arch your back and moan to the heavens (they were yours anyways). Sunday is something that knows how to hide its teeth and disguise itself in the form of a man. He was careful to dull his claws so he would not hurt you when he held you close. Careful to veil the violence that was part of him, showing in his eyes, when he was with you. But he was a beast who knew the taste of blood. And yet you, his pure and lovely dove, loved him and accepted him. You said he was a good man and that you loved him. You were his truth. So, it must be so.
He wanted to claim you so wholly that none could ever deny that you both belonged to one another. That none could mistake that you were his deity and him your humble and devout servant who worshiped you here in the temple of your bed, giving you his offerings in pleasure, loyalty, and love. That brought another idea to mind of just how he could claim you and show you his deepest love.
"I want to breed you, my love. To carry on the family and mark you inside with my cum. Would that be alright? Do you want that as well, dove?"
He would speed up now, thinking about how he could have a family with you. How lovely you would look with a child tottering around behind you. He would make it happen no matter what so long as you wanted it as well. When you agree, he'd smile so wide his face hurt and shower you with kisses. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, my love my heart my everything-"
He can hardly fathom how he'd lived without you before.
Touching and kissing you all over he drove the two of you to your peak, the both of you moaning and whining against each other's lips as you kissed through the high. His hips continued to rock into yours to prolong the waves of pleasure that washed over you before slowing to a stop when you both became overstimulated.
"Thank you, love. You did so well- So very good for me. I love you so much," he'd praise and declare between kisses that he planted all over- Everywhere he could reach while wrapped up in your arms and holding you so close you wondered if the two of you could fuse together. "I love you, too," you'd mumble against his lips as he came back to them for a proper kiss. The chaste peck turning into a sensuous slide of lips, unhurried and full of undeniable love.
Even when he withdrew from your now cum-filled hole and began to clean you up, he would praise you and ask you how you felt while pressing kisses every place he touched. Once everything was done and he'd had you drink water, he'd lay down and pull you to lay on his chest. While stroking your back and pressing a kiss to your hair, he'd bid you goodnight and say yet another "I love you" before quietly humming to help you drift asleep.
Hopefully that was to your liking~ I had fun writing it! Thank you for the idea and for letting me write more about Sunday! <333
Feel free to send in another request if you want, hehe.
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jennifer-jeong · 10 days
Note
Guess who😊
As a reference to what you posted earlier, imagine that after the reader dies of old age, Xiao and Scaramouche encounter a reincarnation of themselves? It's your choice to make them mortal or not (I'm under your bed. If you make them mortal I will kick your feet at night.)
Take your time dear <3
SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FJDKSLA;FJDSA; life has been kicking my ASS but fuck it we ball HELLO MY MUTUAL THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST, I’ve honestly been thinking hard because I want to also request some ideas because your writing is so sweet ehehehe OK PLEASE DON’T KICK MY FEET AT NIGHT THAT’S HORRIFYING - I WILL MAKE THE REINCARNATION IMMORTAL
ALSO @iota1111 these are my ideas for that Xiao and Wanderer angst! If you read only to the *** in each fic, that would be where I’d end the story if it wasn’t meant to be a happy ending! (I would suffer!!!!)
[Fluff + Angst] [Xiao/Wanderer x Reader] Reincarnation
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CONTENT
Angst to fluff, happy ending, reader death, mentions of death, mentions of fighting/them taking their anger out on things
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XIAO
When you passed away, Xiao was absolutely heartbroken. He knew it was coming, he prepared for it, he stayed by your side through your deteriorating health in your last few months. But no matter what, he knew it would destroy him, and it did.
No one saw Xiao for weeks after but everyone noticed that Liyue was safer than ever. Xiao engrossed himself in his work. Taking out his emotions onto the monsters in Liyue. He worked himself to exhaustion every single day. Zhongli still came to check up on him but knew Xiao just needed time.
He didn’t know what to do with himself. What was he supposed to do? You were gone. HIs sunshine, his muse, his… everything.
Xiao collapsed after giving himself no rest for who knows how many nights. Laying in the grass, he stared up at the moon. Asking himself what he could’ve done differently and if he could’ve "selfishly" extended your life. If he could’ve made you immortal like him.
He listened to the bugs chirp around him, the breeze drying the tears he didn’t know were falling. For the first time in a long time, he cried. He sobbed and bit back the urge to lash out at everything in the vicinity. He was on his side, clutching his aching heart, crying into the soft grass he used to lay on with you.
He had gone through so much pain in his life: his karmic debt, the abuse from his old master, losing his found family, and all the years of deafening solitude.
But nothing would ever hurt more than losing you.
Xiao cried his heart out and knocked out from the exhaustion and pain. He slept peacefully for the first time since you passed. *** Xiao woke up the next morning with a start. Confused and disoriented not because of where he had fallen asleep, but because he sensed something insane.
He sensed you.
It was your soul, the one he swore himself to. There was no denying it. Was this a sick joke? Was some old evil spirit messing with him?
It had been months since your passing but there was no denying it. It was you.
Unfortunately, years would pass while Xiao searched for you. He was obsessed over it at first but once he could tell that your soul was safe and alive, he relaxed just a little. He still wanted to see you again, hold you, and whisper how much he loved you, but he knew you’d find each other eventually. He made himself a silent promise that he’d find you no matter what. He didn’t really have much else to do for all of eternity anyways.
Xiao confided in Zhongli through these years, the elder god revealing the possibility of reincarnation, revealing that it’s not uncommon. Souls return to the Earth in many forms but he hints to Xiao that he believes what he’s sensing is indeed you in human form.
Eventually, Xiao would be on a typical nightly patrol, sensing your soul nearby as always. But it was a bit different today. It was stronger.
As if right on cue, Xiao entered a clearing and despite it being nighttime, he saw the sun.
His beautiful sun had somehow risen again against all odds. You didn’t know his name but you knew his soul.
He recognized the sigil on your clothing, it belonged to an adeptus master he hadn’t seen in decades. The draconic horns on your head told him you were reborn in a different body, an immortal body. One that had you trained as an adepti for these past years, likely hidden away in a domain. It clicked in his head. It’s why he could always sense you, but never quite find where you were.
You turned around after feeling his approach. He wondered if you could feel his soul the way he felt yours. If you longed for him even in your new existence. He had so much to ask. But you pulled him out of his noisy thoughts.
Your voice brought him serenity he had long forgotten.
His heart pounded as you spoke.
“I missed you, my love.”
Instantly you were in each other's arms.
“I missed you too,” he says as his voice cracks.
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WANDERER
He was angry, reverting back to how he was before Nahida, the traveler, and you helped him. He blamed the gods, the world, for his sorrows, for his pain. He sought to destroy it all again for somehow making his suffering worse. He had felt pain similar to this. It was all too familiar for him. The constant cycle of loss, betrayal, and agony. But this time, he was on the brink of insanity.
You, his perfect flower, had finally wilted.
He’s stuck bargaining for months, reverting between stages of grief: anger and bargaining. Never able to move on past that.
He continues on his missions for Nahida because he knows it’s what you've wanted but also because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. Any of his combat missions turned into tortures and near assassinations. He used it as a tool to cool himself off, much to the silent disapproval of Nahida. But she knew he’d never disobey your wishes, your morals. You taught him better than to kill out of emotion.
Wanderer commonly visits the forests where you two used to adventure to find some sort of peace and familiarity. He tends to avoid the Aranara despite the fact that they know about your passing and would probably be able to comfort him about it. He just didn’t think he could handle it.
Seasons pass and on one of his trips into the sunny lush forests, growing again due to the spring season, Aranara bring him your favourite flowers when they bloom again the next year. They loved you dearly too, you treated them and the forest with such gentleness that they could never forget you. They didn’t know how to approach him earlier so they used this opportunity instead.
His heart ached and his anemo vision surged with energy when he saw the flower. He finally reached his breaking point, he fell to his knees on the grass and sobbed, clutching the flower to his chest. Letting go of all the stupid anger and bargaining. Who was he kidding, he just didn’t want to accept that he’d have to keep going without you. *** The Aranara tell him not to worry though, comforting and telling him it will be okay. At first he’s confused as to what they mean but Nahida walks out into the sunlit clearing, the sun about to start setting.
She tells him she knows it hurts but that the Irminsul has a message for him and it says that he should not fret and continue to live on and explore the forest. His tear stained face raised an eyebrow but it slowly turned to determination, he knew Irminsul would not lie.
It would take years but he slowly started to feel you nearby. He’d dream of you. The forest felt like you and he could feel your energy in the flora. He confided in Nahida and their bond only grew stronger, he’d also reach out to the Aranara when he’d adventure out of the city.
Eventually, the Aranara prepared and held a ceremony, sensing the birthing of something new, a nature spirit. Nahida described it using the term “nymph.”
Wanderer was silent as he put the pieces together. He held his breath as he realized it might be you. Your reincarnation.
He always saw you as his flower, but he didn’t think you’d become a nature spirit, he was not complaining about it in the slightest though.
Nahida explained that you would exist in the physical realm but had strong ties to the dream realm, you’d be immortal like Aranara are but you’d still be able to live with him in the physical.
As you manifested and blinked open your eyes, you immediately looked at him.
His hands were shaking, unsure if he was scared, happy, both? Was it really you? Had the world finally decided to grant him happiness instead of sorrow? Was this a gift?
But as you took gentle steps towards him, he realized something important:
It didn’t matter.
You were here again, in front of him. Nothing else mattered.
You reached out to hold his face with your hands. You knew him, you knew your soul belonged to him and his to you.
He drew in closer to you, holding your face and touching your foreheads together, tears threatening to fall.
Your beautiful voice spoke to him again in what felt like an eternity. He had almost forgotten what you sounded like.
“Don’t cry my love, I’m here.”
His eyebrows scrunched as his tears fell. He wraps his arms around you tight, never wanting to let go, scared you’d leave him again.
“I missed you so much,” he whispered shakily, scared that his voice would fail if he tried to speak.
“I missed you too. I’m here to stay.”
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Thank you for reading!
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|| MASTERLIST<3 ||
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glassartpeasants · 1 month
Text
I was doing a writing warm-up and made this piece. I kinda like it and might make a fic series about it if anyone is interested. Also, I call Kid 'Eustass' in this because it felt right for some reason?
Eustass Kid/ Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
warnings: Angst, small amount of blood, cheating, slut shaming maybe? Modern Au
~~~
“Does he think I’m a fucking idiot?! Does he think I can’t see the way his eyes follow girls’ asses as they walk by?” Gripping the edge of the bathroom sink, you struggle to hold back tears as you talk to your best friend on the other line.
“What am I doing wrong (....)? I’ve done everything right! I gave him all of me, and he’s out here eyeing other women!”
“That’s just the way he is (Y/N). I tried to warn you about him. You can’t change someone who doesn’t want to change.” You bite your lip as your body shakes. Emotion overwhelmed you to the point you could no longer hold back tears.
“I don’t understand. He told me he loved me and that he couldn’t imagine a life without me. He made me a matching ring to his. He promised me that his playboy days were over…”
“Well, if he’s staring at other girls, then obviously he broke his promise.”
~~~
You're feeling a lot more numb than you thought you would. At first, you thought you’d be yelling, crying, and screaming. Asking him why? But now that you're actually hearing his moans along with an unknown woman's echoing in your shared bedroom, no tears fall from your eyes. 
Maybe your heart and mind were mentally and emotionally ready for this. There were many signs he was starting to stray. Staring at other women, no longer being affectionate in public, you even saw him take off his ring once. He hasn’t done it again, but that was the last straw your heart could take when you tried to ignore the signs.
You should've known it’d end like this. He’s been a fuck boy all throughout high school and college. Slithering his way into vulnerable hearts and crushing them without a care about the people he’s heart. How you’ve been friends with him for so long and knowing what he was doing was something you criticized yourself for. 
While you weren’t best friends during high school and college, you both always had a class together. The two of you just ended up talking during each of them. Well, him hitting on you and you always telling him that you rather swim in hell’s flames than get with him. All throughout high school and college, he’d do this. In a way, you said no to avenge all the hearts he’s broken. But once college started, you accidentally started growing feelings for the idiot. Yet, you still said no until graduation day. He came up to you with a bouquet of roses made of metal that he made in shop class. Every rose was made individually, letting you pluck one out and hold it in your hands. Everyone in said class said he’d been working on it forever. Throwing away and remaking it more times than anyone could count. All to make sure it was perfect. It was then that you finally said yes. No one had done anything so thoughtful for you before. 
But when you told your best friend the news, she wasn’t happy.
“What?!”
“Listen, I know it sounds stupid-”
“That’s because it is stupid (Y/N)! We both know his past and how he still was before you agreed to go out with him! How are you sure he isn’t gonna do the same shit to you?!”
“He’s been asking me for years and actually made me this metal bouquet of flowers. Aren’t they beautiful, though?” Showing her the flowers, you watch her sigh. 
“What happens when he breaks your heart? What will you do then?” You were silent as you looked away from her. Her hands go to your shoulders, and it makes you look at her. 
“I just don’t want you crying over someone like him. I’m just worried about you, okay?”
“I know. Thank you for watching out for me. I’m going to give him a chance. Maybe he’s ready to grow up? But if I get my heart broken. Then you’ll get to say, ‘I told you so’.” Laughing at the last part, you pull (.....) into a hug and enjoy how you could always rely on her to be by your side.
Your eyes caught the metal bouquet on the kitchen table. The sun hit it just right to where it shined in your eyes. Furrowing your brows, an immediate disgust came over you as you looked at them. The one thing that had you thinking he’d changed was laughing at you and calling you a fool for falling for it.
Turning away from the bedroom door, you carefully and quietly walked to the metal sculpture. You pull one of the roses out from the vase they resided in and look at it. You twirled it with your fingers before gripping it tightly. Using your other hand, you encase the metal rosebud with the palm of your hand before twisting it harshly. 
The sharp metal cut into your hand as you ripped off the rose head. A small hiss escaped you, yet you continued. Putting down the first destroyed rose, you move on to the second one. Then the third, fourth, fifth, until every single rose had been ripped apart. By the time you were finished, the stems of the flowers were scattered across the kitchen table, as well as the blood-covered roses. A good representation of a broken heart if you say so.
You could still hear the moans coming from the bedroom, and the more you listened and paid attention, the more you swore you recognized the tone of voice. Tip-toeing to the door, you place your ear against the wood. Taking a few seconds, you listen carefully to try to pinpoint who it could be.
“Eustass~”
As soon as the words were heard, you felt your world shatter. That was (.....)’s voice. That was (.....) in there fucking your boyfriend. And your boyfriend was cheating on you with your best friend. The two people you cared about the most stabbing you in the back. It’s even worse knowing that (.....) was cheating on her own boyfriend, Trafalgar Law. The smartest person you’ve ever met. He was valedictorian in high school and had the highest grades in college. He's now a world known respected doctor who’s saved so many lives. Everything he’s done, and this is what happens to him? How could Eustass and (.....) pull this on you and Law?
A rage washed over you as soon as you heard her moan his name again. Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you unlock it and call Law. You thankfully had his number after a project you guys did together a month before college ended, and you just never remembered to delete it. 
“Come on, Law. Pick up.” Whispering, you cross your fingers.
“(Y/N)-ya? Why are you-”
“I really need you to stay on the line, okay? I’m going to facetime you now, alright?”
“What? Why? (Y/N)-ya, I have to go back to work-”
“(.....)’s cheating on you with my boyfriend right now as we speak. Don’t believe me? Listen!” You put your phone against the door, and all you heard was silence on Law’s side of the phone. A groan of (.....)’s name leaving Eustass’s mouth finally made you snap.
“That’s it!” Busting open the door, your met with a half-naked Eustass and a very naked (.....).
“Shit (Y/N)!”
“(Y/N)! It’s not what it looks like!” Clutching your phone tightly in your hand, you finally feel your anger bubble over.
“Don’t pull that shit with me! If your gonna be a backstabbing whore at least admit it! Fucking my boyfriend?! The boyfriend you hated?! Did you just want to fuck him the whole time?! How long has this been going on?!” You watched as (.....) scrambled to get her clothes on, and Eustass pushed his dick back in his pants.
“This is the only time it’s happened, I swear!”
“This is all an accident (Y/N), okay? I promise-”
“Oh, so your dick accidentally found its way into her? I don’t believe that for a second! And don’t tell me about your bullshit promises!” You can feel the cut on your hand finally start to sting as blood starts to puddle against the floor. The cut must have been much deeper than you originally thought.
“You're bleeding! (Y/N) are you okay?!-”
“Oh, don’t act like you care (.....)! If you actually cared, you wouldn’t be fucking my boyfriend in my bed! If you actually had a fucking heart, you wouldn’t have cheated on Law either!” The mention of Law's name has a look of horror appear on (.....)'s face.
“Please don’t tell him (Y/N)! I love him, and I don’t want him to leave me!”
“I’m breaking up with you.” (.....)’s face dropped when she realized Law heard everything. Tears start pouring down her face.
“That makes two of us.” You take off the ring Eustass gave you before walking over to (.....) Plopping it into her hand, you look at her with hatred and a disgusted smile.
“Obviously, this was meant for you since he loves you so much he can’t stop saying your name.” You grab the bag you left by the bedroom door before turning around and start to collect things around the apartment that you need.
“I’ll make sure to tell the landlord that my name’s off the lease and that I’ll gather my things tomorrow morning.” Holding everything you could gather at the moment, you make your way to the front door.
“Where do you think you're going?!” You feel Eustass grab your wrist and bring you closer to him. Looking into his eyes, you see panic, fear, and anger swirling around in them. 
“Leaving, obviously! I’m not gonna stay and shatter my heart more after seeing a man I loved, wanted to marry even, fucking my now ex-best friend.” The panic grew more evident as he pulled you to his chest. Both arms wrapped around you so you couldn’t leave.
“You can’t leave, alright! I know I fucked up, but please, let’s talk about this. She means nothing to me! She’s just some slut-”
“A slut you fucked knowing you were taken.” Tears started spilling from your eyes as you felt him hold you closer. 
“Why? Why would you do this to me? Why’d you say you loved me when you out fucking my best friend? How dare you hold me close and act like the stench of sex and her perfume isn’t surrounding you?”
“I’m outside in the car (Y/N).” Hearing Law’s voice shocked you as you remember you never hung up on him. He was so quiet, and you heard nothing on the other side of the line. Having him even show up was surprising, but you weren’t gonna throw away this opportunity to get away from Eustass and (.....). 
“Alright, be right there-”
“No, she won’t! Fuck off, Trafalgar, and take your bitch with you!” Eustass grabbed your phone and hung up before throwing your phone on the couch.
“Eustass! Are you-” You feel one of his hands push your head to his. His lips met yours, and you could feel the urgency in his kisses.
“Please don’t…leave me…” Kissing your between words only had your heart shattering more. How could he kiss you like he loves you after pulling a stunt like this?
It took almost everything inside you not to dig your fingers into his hair and kiss him back. You wanted it all to be a dream and that when you woke up, you’d be sleeping against his chest. 
Putting your hand against his bare chest, you feel his bare skin against your open wound. It made him pull away from his panicked kisses when he felt your bloody hand on his chest.
“Jesus (Y/N)! What happened?!”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Stay here, I’m grabbing bandages!” Letting you go, you see him rush to the bathroom. Taking this chance, you grab your phone and start running out the door. Anything you can carry in tow, you run down the stairs as you hear (.....) scream your name and Eustass yelling at you to stop. 
But who was he to tell you what to do?
Bursting out the apartment complex’s door, you see Law’s car parked waiting for you. Using all your strength, you run as fast as you can. Grabbing the car door, You swung it open before slamming it shut. Everything you brought with you on your lap.
“Drive!” Wasting no time, Law stomps on the gas, and as you see Eustass run out of the apartment, watching you and Law drive away.
~~~
If you guys do want this to be an actual fic series, let me know cause this concept is quite interesting to me.
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hazelfoureyes · 21 days
Text
Someone nice, Somewhere safe
Angel x Virgin Male Reader
જ⁀➴ Angel x Virgin Female Reader - Someone nice, Somewhere safe*
*same story, just your bits and bobbles are changed 
You let it slip to the group you were a virgin, and instead of laughing, Angel grabs you before bed to offer a friendly hand.
<Warnings/Promises: Angel Dust x Virgin Male!Reader, smut, fingering, lubed to the gods, Angel uses four arms, Valentino is a blind bag of smashed assholes, creampie, oral, the gentlest sex I’ve ever written (probably), an alarming towel>
listen here virgins, if I could craft a perfect first time for you, this is it. Minus the lack of condoms because—it’s hell? Sex workers are tested bi-weekly?? This is still a fantasy??? Just if anything, please take from this the importance of a safe and trusting environment at all times 🙏  
minor dni (shoo! get outta here! Go on, git! 🧹)
You thought everyone would laugh when you said you were a virgin. The group awe’d and said it was cute, which was definitely better than the response you’d gotten in the overworld. But when Angel made a joke that your toys must be worn to the base, you felt the need to clarify. Total virgin, never used toys or your hands for, you cringed, penetration. Everyone just looked… sad? The conversation was quickly derailed by Angel launching into a list of wildest orgasm faces he’s seen, Charlie leaving the room entirely.
Continuing with the evening’s theme of surprise, you hadn’t expected Angel to catch up to you when everyone was filing off to bed. His hand gently reached for your wrist, “Hey ya got a sec?”
 For Angel, the epitome of smiling through the pain, you’d give him the remainder of your time in hell if he just asked. Every second, his.“Always!”
“So uh”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “about bein’ a virgin and all that.” Your stomach dropped, was the famous porn star about to embarrass you into a second death?“I think it’s real important that like— knowin’ yourself, and what makes you feel good is like super healthy. I dunno if you are interested in that kinda stuff but,” he was wildly moving his hands round, nervously stumbling over his words, “I’d be happy to help ya out.”
All of the blood rushed to your face.
“Oh fuck!” Angel grabbed your head and tipped it forward, “I would have accepted a simple no, jesus!” With one hand pinching your nose, he led you into his room just down the hall. 
What— what was happening, exactly? At all? In general? With your entire existence?
He kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed a handful of tissues, “Keep your head forward. Everyone who says tilt it back is an idiot.”
His hand was red when he drew it from your face, using his other hand to now hold tissues between his fingers as he pinched your nose shut.
“Is- is my nose bleeding??” Your voice cracked.
“Does that happen often?”
“Never.”
“Well I got to help you with at least one first, right?” Angel laughed, moving his hands away as you took over the task.
Oh, right. The offer. You glanced around the room, small but lived-in. Everything was pink and purple and soft.
“Angel, do you think because you’re a sex worker, you have to help me?” The room fell silent. Angel completely still beside you. You would love someone you could trust to take your virginity, but you would never want to use Angel like so many other people did on a daily basis.
“Ya know— a lot of people get real confused about this.” He sighed, chest heavy with the many misconceptions others had, “What I do for work, what I gotta do to get through the day, has nothin’ to do with who I am as a person.” You turned to look at him, “Why should I limit my experiences because of what other people have done to me?” The words hit you like a truck. You had unintentionally boxed him into his job, in turn into his trauma, summing him up as a warm body and incapable of any depth past that. Just a sex worker.
“No, no I didn’t mean anything like that. I just, I don’t want to ever,” you grabbed two of his hands, “ever take advantage of your kindness.” You squeezed, “or any part of you.”
His frown turned up, “We’re dead, yea, but you still exist. If you want to, you should enjoy every part of your afterlife. And I’d hate you to meet some asshole who’s too rough or doesn’t get ya warmed up first. A bad first time can be really traumatizin’.”
You nodded without actually thinking. Your brain wasn’t really processing meaning, his words were just soft and kind and your nose still stuffed full of tissue.
“Do you wanna?”
You nodded more vigorously, “Did my nose start bleeding again?”
Angel took the tissue away, giving a second to see, “Nope.”
Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay. Yeah, I want that. Someone nice, somewhere safe.”
“It ain’t quite nice but-,” Angel looked around his room.
“It’s perfect, Angel.”
“Aw fuck, I should clean up,” he hurriedly carried trash from his nightstand, flattening out the comforter and adjusting his pillows. He placed fat nuggets on the floor with a little pat on the head.
Finally, he stood in front of you, two hands on his hips, two gesturing to you.
“Alright baby! Let’s pop some cherries! Undress~” he elongated the word, shimmying his hips a little, “-to your comfort level.” He began to unbutton his blazer, “Bare minimum, take off your pants and underwear, please and thank you. Though I have fucked through underwear…” He was momentarily lost in a memory.
You hadn’t anticipated getting naked in front of a friend tonight. But Angel so effortlessly shed his clothes, peeling off his gloves. Pulling off your pants, you paused.
“Is it weird if I keep my shirt on? Like— do you know who Winnie the Pooh is?”
“Nothin’ weird about bein’ comfortable, pookie.” He pinched your cheek, “I’d offer a modesty blanket but I kinda need to see what I’m doing.” His eyes flitted to the left, “No, wanna. I wanna see.” Angel’s laugh relaxed you, the idea of anyone wanting to see you made you feel a little less—-naked. Still, your hands seemed frozen on your underwear’s edge.
With a hum, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “Go on, lie down. I’ll help ya relax. This is already feeling too medical-like.”
Were you going to need a towel? Were you going to need a towel?? Were you going to need a towel!?
You sat back on his bed, and when he crawled up to meet you, all legs and arms and Angel Dust, you buried your face in your hands.
“Oh hey—,” his voice was so soft, lacking its usual sass, “Wanna just, cuddle and watch stupid shit on my phone?” You groaned, face sinking further down. This would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. You could at least take a backseat, then.
You shook your head, and felt his hand on your ankle. It snaked up your calf, slipped down your knee and thigh, finding the waistband of your underwear. When you looked up from your hiding place, Angel was a foot from your face. His features lit only by the purple neon signs hanging beside his bed and near the door. He lifted his brows, a question he didn’t need to vocalize. You sank back into the purple and pink pillows, different sizes, different textures, gently enveloping you.
With two hands now, he slide off your underwear. You might die, again. Your heart would give out any second, incapable of handling the moment. You were manually breathing.
He lifted your hips with two hands, a third sliding the towel beneath you before setting you back down.
“Do ya-,” he was rummaging now inside the nightstand drawer, “not play with yourself? Ever?”
“Not really. Not like, there.”
“Whaddya do with all your free time?” His short but enthusiastic laughter forced a smile to your cheeks. Angel slid the drawer shut and came to rest in front of your tightly shut thighs and knees. You heard a cap pop, and found the courage to sit up and see what he was doing.
“What?” He squeezed a clear, thick lubricant onto his right hand, “Don’t let anyone tell you ya don’t need lube. No fun for no one, trust me. Could start a fuckin’ fire—- and spit ain’t lube!” Angel said it like he spoke from a personal experience.
Ah, the towel. That made sense now.
“Should I do something?”
“Just lie back, baby~,” he opened your knees and followed your face as you settled back down, “Do you like kissin’?”
You’d kiss a trashcan if Angel said it got him hot, so, “Yeah.”
“Good,” One hand touched your cheek, sliding to your chin as he brought your lips to his. You thought you’d melt, his hands so soft on you, lips confident and sure. He used his thumb on your chin to pull down your bottom lip and ask you for entrance. When you opened up to him, his tongue slid into yours as his sticky wet hand finally touched you. Two fingers rubbing the lube up and down your ass.
You nearly inhaled him with your shock, he giggled into it, “You’re so cute.” You twitched under his hand, “Ooh, and reactive! Daddy likes.”
Stop. Stop talking. I’m going to black out.
His mouth returned to yours, tongue over your tongue, as his fingers just massaged your entrance. No attempt at entering, no prodding, just gentle up and down motions. Slowly, your felt your skin heating beneath his hand, the lubricant somewhat melting with your warmth.
At work, Angel was never the lead. Never the top, and never afforded time to ease anyone open. He had no issues with topping, it just wasn’t his normal role. Watching you sigh and twitch under him felt like a treat. Such a sweet response to what so many people made unnecessarily dirty at work. He wasn’t shocked to find his cock twitching, swelling as your breathing hitched with every stroke of his hand. When was the last time he could just… slow down? Be the one in control? Not control like Val, control like—- can I get you a pillow? Is the pacing good? Let’s soften these lights.  Hold my hand, sweetheart.
His head felt a little dizzy. His middle finger pressed now, and with a slow but constant motion entered you. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the best word. Your body tensed around him, but he gently pressed past your virgin walls. He hummed, “First one down! Atleast,” he paused, “two more to go.”
“Atleast??” You shook your head.
“It’s sex math, trust the professional in the room.” He withdrew the finger and slid it back in, starting a slow pace of long drags from knuckle to fingertip.
It didn’t hurt, to his credit. The excitement of having Angel touching you so intimately made the finger easier to relax into. Angel must have noticed, his finger leaving you. He popped the top again of his lube and pressed in two fingers. This was harder. You whined, his fingertips pushing past the tight ring of muscle and settling into the wet warmth behind.
Lying on your back, you stared at the now upside-down photos behind his bed. He looked so happy. Could you join that wall? Was this wall worthy?
“You still good?” He leaned over you, fingers  moving.
You nodded, “Can I have another kiss?”
Ah, you might as well have punched him in the chest. “Of course, darlin’~ Ask and you shall receive.” You liked kissing, genuinely, but were always scared you’d kiss someone too long and end up in an awkward situation having to explain you weren’t wanting sex. But that fear was all gone, you’d broken the code. Get naked first, then kiss.
You smiled into his mouth, and he smiled back, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
“I like kissing you.” You leaned up, pressing your lips to his chin. His fingers quickened, and you moaned without warning. You felt your cock twitch, erection growing as nervousness was slinking away and finally letting you feel aroused.
“Ooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he leaned back, repeating the same steps and trying to press a third finger into you. His abundance of hands were a blessing, one at your entrance, one on your knee to keep your shaking legs open, and two roaming down the sides of your body. When three fingers finally entered, you could feel the burning stretch of your skin around them. He pushed in, and the skin followed. He pulled out, your sensitive hole pulling too. The hand on your knee came to your crotch, his palm pressing lightly down on your growing erection. You glanced up to him, his eyes focused as he watched his fingers slowly drag in and out of you. It burned still, but just past that burning was a slippery sensation that made your cock jump under his hand.
He let his fingers sink in entirely, before bending and feeling inside you. Your knee jumped when he hit something.
“Bingo! Say hello to your g-spot.” He beamed down at you, gold tooth shining, “You don’t really need it to cum but oooh boooy does it maximize pleasure,” it sounded so pornographic when he said it.
You weakly copied, “B-bingo.” 
“I can do this now~” he replaced his palm with his fingers,  sticky with lube, and they wrapped around your cock. His hand slowly pumped up and down your shaft. “Sex math. Don’t need your virgin ass locking up on me.” He said quietly to himself, fingers in and out of you picking up speed. Your head was pressing into the pillows as your neck strained, you’d never masturbated while someone, something, penetrated you. Every stroke of his hand made your body clench, the feeling of something hard and unforgiving pushing back against your quivering hole made a pleasure you couldn’t describe.
“Feelin’ good yet?” The way he said it, he knew damn well how you were feeling.
You whimpered into one of the pillows, “Feels good.” A weak nod.
Angel’s grin bordered on wicked, hand slowing. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your cock head. Then another. His tongue flattened against his bottom lip as he dragged it over your sensitive slit.
You moaned, a half spoken-half cried, “Oh fuck, Angel-.” Hips bucking up, his fingers kept their place and followed. You humped up against his tongue, ground down into his fingers; up, down. Soft tongue, rigid fingers.
“You can fuck my face, baby,” He opened his mouth, tongue out, and looked up at you from your stomach. “I ain’t got a gag reflex anymore, popsicles slide in like— well, cocks.” He lowered his mouth onto you, leaving room for you to move. His fingers slowed in you.
You thrust up slowly, testing the sensation. His mouth closed around you, tongue moving along you shaft as you rutted into his face.
One hand held tightly to the pillow, the other coming to Angel’s hair. Your body kept jumping away from overstimulation but you fought against it every time and tried to grind against his face.
His fingers slipped out of you, your body closing back around the space where they were. That feeling of your hole tightening made you hungry for his fingers to spread you back open. His hand came to cup your balls, feeling the weight in his palm.
He lifted his mouth off you with a deliberate pop, “Gettin’ close already?” You nodded, eyes closed. “Ready for the real thing?”
“Yeah. I need more, Angel.” It came out as a whine, shocking you a little.
His hand came to his erection, red and leaking. Stroking himself, he returned to massaging at your puffy and swollen entrance.
“You comfortable with gettin’ on your knees? This position ain’t so conducive for what I’m tryin’ to do.”
Somehow, ass up sounded better than face to face, “You’re the expert.” You rolled onto your stomach, hips up, face resting into the sea of pillows. You paused, lifted off your now sweaty shirt, and got back into position. 
“Sexpert, but thank you!” The lid popped open again, cold and viscous lube being dripped directly onto your ass, “Finally some recognition around here.” He coated himself with what was still on his hands, and raised your hips to line himself up.
“Deep breaths, okay?” He leaned over your back, kisses falling down your skin. Two hands held your hips, one guided himself into you. You tensed when his head began to push in, “Relaaax, just like the fingers.”
A muffled, “okay” from your place in the pile. Your heart was suddenly racing, erection now gone. He wiped his dick up and down your ass, swiping past your entrance, dragging the edge of your hole with the crook of his head. Lining up, he pushed in, getting his head firmly sunk into you.
“Breath, baby,” he moaned into your shoulder. You took a deep breath in, your body tight still. But, it didn’t hurt like you’d thought. It burned, but there was no sting, no tearing. Angel’s hands ran up and down your sides, along you ass and thighs. He gently touched everywhere he could reach, until he felt you soften, “Ready to keep going?”
“Yes please”, you turned your head to look at him.
He pulled out slightly to collect more lube on his shaft, before slowly sinking into you until he bottomed out.
You were gasping, your brain misfiring. You couldn’t feel anything but him, your body just a formless thought with Angel’s warm, solid cock reaching deeper into than you thought possible. One roaming hand reached for your shoulder, “Can I move?”
“Slow,” your hand searched for a loose fold of comforter to grip, but it was soon encased and intertwined by one of his.
He pulled out, and slowly thrust back in. A saccharine moan fell from his mouth, and it made you whimper. 
You were so soft around him, yet your entrance was gripping him so snuggly he felt like he was melting into you. His breath was unsteady, “You feel so good on my cock, baby.” A burning blush took over your face, your erection jumping back to life.
“How ya doin’?” Angel sounded nervous, timid.
You had to collect saliva to get any words out, mouth running dry from panting, “S’good.” You tried again, “So good.” Your fingers tightened around his.
He adjusted his hips, watching you closely. When your eyes closed and your hand nearly broke his, he grinned down, “Bingo~,” his speed began to pick up. 
“Fuuuuck, Angel-,” you dragged out the last syllable of his name. You could feel your orgasm returning after dying down earlier. 
Angel took languid thrusts out to the tip and pushing back past your still resisting entrance. Every time he pulled out and slipped in felt better than before. The sensations of him opening you around his cock again and again had your stomach and thighs tensing. You brought your hand up to stroke your own pulsing dick, slowly pumping. 
Angel’s hand came down and wrapped around your cock, taking over your own attempts. The feeling of him in you and around you was overwhelming.
“Cumming,” You hissed, squeezing his hand tighter, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower. His repeated pressing of your g-spot pushed you over the edge, hand slowly milking you of every drop of cum.
Angel’s moans got louder, your body tightening in spasms as you emptied your balls onto the towel. Your body was so inviting, warm walls sucking his head deeper. He rarely got to feel this sensation. His head rested against your back, hands running along the curve of your hips as he melted into your sweet heat.
He picked up speed, only drawing out an inch or so now with each thrust. The lube made a pop and squelch every time his skin pulled from yours, the sound making his legs weak.
“Where can I cum?” His breath was raspy, messy with the pleasure of your soft insides rubbing along his shaft. You gripped the blanket, dick jerking from the feeling of Angel chasing his release with your body. You could hear the strain in his voice, “Gonna need an answer real fast, babe.” You hid your face in the pillow mountain again, embarrassed to answer.
“Inside,” you tried to say it loudly enough for him to hear.
He whimpered a, “Fuuuuck” down your spine, “Such a dirty little virgin.” His hips stuttered before he sunk into you with such force your legs gave out. Your body came down flush onto the bed, towel sticking to your stomach and thighs. Angel was pressed into you, chest against your back as his breathing calmed. You could feel his heart through your ribs, his chest fluff silky on your skin. Your body was warm, his hot cum filling you.
Small, lazy kisses on your back, then up your neck, he leaned to kiss your cheek. He slid out of you delicately, but you didn’t move.  His weight left the bed, then returned as a warm, wet cloth wiped you clean. After a couple of minutes of gentle cleaning, you felt the throw blanket cover your back. Angel plopped down on his back beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs and unlocking his phone, “Wanna see this fuckin’ hilarious video of my boss runnin’ into a glass wall?”
You chuckled, nodding, making no effort to get up. One of his hands came down and ruffled your hair, he leaned in to your head and as you watched Valentino collide head first into a wall, he said softly, “Let me know if you need anything. I got a bitchin’ tub in there.”
You hummed, reaching a shakey hand up and pressing ‘replay’ on his phone. Angel’s laughter echoed off the walls, and you decided you had no plans on leaving bed anytime soon.
Sweet smut inspired by HunnyPaint on pornhub and fansly! 🍯🎨 If you like femboyxfemboy, I highly recommend. They make love look hot. Their fansly is also priced well! 10/10 (again, talking to legal adult humans here)
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bucks-babe · 3 months
Text
Munch
Pairing: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader
Summary: Bucky gets his first taste
Warnings: Angst in the beginning (mentions of Hydra and potential abuse), smut (oral f!receiving, fingering), Bucky humps the bed, sub!bucky, mommy kink ( I don’t know what came over me), aftercare, slight overstimulation, no use of Y/N
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Not me disappearing. Oops. Special thanks to @bucknastysbabe for proof reading and edits.
Next to you in bed, Bucky was twisting and turning. He agreed for you to sleep over in his room after this week's movie night. Ever since the night you both ‘watched’ When Harry Met Sally, Bucky had been acting weirdly. At first you thought that maybe he was just embarrassed; it was his first sexual experience after all. But he hasn’t looked you in the eyes for more than three seconds before blushing and turning away. 
It had been almost two weeks since that night, and now you’re starting to get worried that you pushed him too far. What if he wasn’t ready for you to see him like that? What if he didn’t want you to touch him but he didn’t want to hurt your feelings by saying no? Did you violate his trust? You worked so hard to get him to trust you, to be the person he can always turn to.
You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you forced his hand. After so many years of not having any choices, or any control of his body, maybe Bucky got used to seeing himself as a toy, an object to be used and not as his own being, entitled to saying no if he didn’t want something. “Did I do something, Buck?” It comes out as a whisper, but he catches it with his super hearing.
Bucky’s entire body freezes. “No,” is all he says, looking up at the ceiling in the dark. He doesn’t know how to stay still around you. Not when his brain is replaying the events from a few weeks ago, happened in the very same bed he is laying in. How fucking good you made him feel, how pretty you looked, and how he’s been fucking himself almost every night since, dreaming about you. 
Bucky has no idea that you think you’ve pushed him too far. If anything, he wants more. He wants you to blow him again, wants to eat you out, and above all, he wants you to take his virginity. He craves for you to be his first and only, to corrupt him, show him every dirty thing possible, teach him how to fuck. But he doesn’t know how to ask for it.
“Is this about what happened a few weeks ago? I need you to tell me if I crossed a line and made you feel like you had to say yes.” You need to know if you did something he didn’t want, make sure that he feels comfortable enough to set boundaries. You also don’t need to clarify what incident you are referring to. The two of you haven’t done anything near that intense since.
Bucky’s eyes widen and he flips onto his side to look at you, the light of the moon showing how glassy your eyes are. “No, Doll! I wanted that to happen, I promise! It’s not that.” With his metal hand, he pulls you into his chest, needing you close to him. He can’t believe you would think that he didn’t want you to suck his dick. Bucky chokes up a little at how much you care, not used to warmth and care for him as a person. 
Hydra cared about his physical health, making sure he was ready for the next battle, that he was strong enough to carry out his mission, not him, never him. You, on the other hand, are right here in his arms scared that you coerced him, because you care for him.
“Then what is it? I feel like I’ve done something. You’ve hardly looked at me these past two weeks.” You pull away enough to look him in the eyes, seeing his blush. 
“Oh, doll, this is so embarrassing.” You reach up and cup his face with your hands, silently encouraging him to proceed. “It’s not because I didn’t want you to,” his eyes leave yours, “you know.” A small chuckle leaves your lips at his shyness. “It’s because that’s all I’ve been thinking about, and more.” The end of his sentence comes off in a whisper, not intending for you to hear.
A weight comes off your chest and you laugh, much to Bucky’s chagrin. “Honey, that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” At his frown, you kiss his nose, then his cheeks, before landing a chaste kiss to his pouting lips, giggling in between each peck. “You had me scared. And here you were just being a little horn dog.”
“It’s not funny.” Bucky buries his head into your neck while you continue to laugh; however, you feel his smile. After a minute he pops his head back up, “Okay, maybe it’s a little funny.”
You both laugh for a while until you remember his sly, ‘and more’ comment. You find his shyness adorable, but you want to corrupt this man, if he’ll let you of course, so you feel compelled to pry about his tiny admission. “What else were you thinking about doing? With me”
Bucky groans, face still buried in your neck. “What do you mean?” He decides to play coy, knowing that it won’t work. Your hand goes to his hair and you lightly tug on it, pulling his head up. A choked groan leaves Bucky’s lips and he grinds his hips against your stomach. At the look on your face, he feels like he could cum right there, and he feels such a deep and powerful urge to be good for you, to do whatever you want him to.
“I wanted to do what you did to me… on you.” His cheeks are as red as a tomato, and you feel your own arousal pool in your panties. Evidently, Bucky could smell your wetness as his eyes darkened.
“You wanna eat me out, honey? You wanna try to eat pussy for the first time?” You still have your grip on his hair, and you can feel how hard his cock is from where he’s grinding against you. He nods his head, only to have you pull on his hair, “Use your words like a big boy and tell me.”
“Yes, mommy. I wanna eat you out, but I don’t know how. I need mommy to teach me.” Your eyes widen at the title but Bucky doesn’t seem to realize, eyes foggy and mindlessly humping you. Poor baby had dropped headfirst into sub-land. 
“Don’t worry, honey, mommy will teach you. Such a good boy for using your words.” Bucky whines as you pull away from him to turn on the lamp on the bedside table, hips chasing any type of friction they can. “If you want to eat mommy out, honey, you have to let me move.”
 After turning the lamp on, you kneel on the bed, gesturing for Bucky to follow, which he does without hesitation. “Bucky, are you okay with this? I need to make sure this is something that you want.” You stop Bucky from laying you down when his only answer was a gentle, “Yes mommy.” You need him to be present when he consents and when you get him to look you in the eyes, see the fog behind his eyes clear up some, then you accept his consent, knowing that this is something that he is okay with.
You let him lay you down on the bed, with him in between your legs. “Take mommy’s clothes off, honey.” Immediately, Bucky goes to take your shorts off, taking your panties off with them, feeling the cool air hit your slick. You could feel your clit pulsing at the sight of Bucky right next to your cunt.
“Mommy, your pussy is so pretty. Can I lick it, please?” You don’t miss the way Bucky’s hips are rocking against the bed.
“Not yet, honey. First, I want you to use your hands, okay?” You could tell how excited he was, and how confused. “Touch mommy’s clit with your thumb.” He was a little over enthusiastic and was a little too hard, making you wince and your hips jerk, but you couldn’t blame him -  the poor thing was clueless. 
“A little lighter, just like that, good boy. Now rub it in circles, shit, uh huh.” Bucky was watching you like a fucking hawk, torn between watching your face contort or watching the way your clit was throbbing and slick was seeping out of your hole. He was salivating at the thought of having his first taste of you; your smell alone could have him cumming on command.
“Do you feel good, mommy?” He needed your confirmation. His cock was harder than ever pushed up against the bed. He knew that he should slow his hips down, but it was like he was watching the sexiest porno ever, eyes drawn to the slick leaving your pussy, how you were drenching the sheets underneath you.
“Feels so good, honey. Now I want you to use your index finger and put it inside real gentle.” Bucky was absolutely incredible at following directions and reading your body, seeing what you were responding to. “Curl your finger, fuck, good boy! Use your mouth now, on mommy’s clit.” Bucky whines, he wants to be your good boy so fucking bad.
At your direction, Bucky latches onto your pulsing clit, moaning at his first taste, and holy hell, Bucky feels his cock twitch and he knows he's about to cum. He flattens down on the bed, humping faster, his moans match yours in volume. Pride blossoms in his chest - he’s making you feel good. He’s being a good boy.
His balls pull up tight to his body, but Bucky cant fucking stop, and he cums in his boxers and all the way to the sheets. Ropes and ropes of his cum shoot out, but he’ll be fucking damned if he leaves your pussy. Every groan leaving him goes straight to your clit, and you’re reeling with pleasure. Men who had twice the experience than Bucky couldn’t give you half the pleasure he has.
He alternates between sucking and licking, watching to see which you like more,  bringing his other finger to your entrance, now using two fingers and his mouth, more feral than ever to pleasure you, all the while his hips are still rocking against the bed. “Keep going, just like that, Bucky.” There is no way that Bucky could stop now, not when he hasn’t seen you cum. He’s in his own world at this point, eyes closed, hips still grinding against the bed, listening to the way your pussy is sucking his fingers back in, feeling your thighs shake around him, fucking tasting your slick like it’s water.
Each time he moans into your pussy, he feels your walls clamp down on his fingers. Your hips start to chase his mouth, wanting more. “Bucky, I’m gonna cum! Please don’t stop! Make mommy cum!” Bucky wants you to cum more than anything, he needs it like its air.
He wants to speed up his ministrations, but he knows that’s not what you want. Instead he speeds his hips up, feeling his second orgasm building. His movements are much easier with the surplus of cum that’s already on the bed. Distantly, you hear the bed shaking with the force of his thrusts, but your orgasm is about to hit you and you can’t focus on anything. 
His free hand reaches up to grab you, grounding himself, desperate to make you cum before he does. He wants to beg and plead for you to cum but he can’t tear himself away from your cunt. If he could, Bucky would stay between your legs for the rest of his life. He can feel you pulsing around him and he knows you're going to cum soon.
When his eyes find yours it’s over for the both of you. You cum first, crying out his name, thighs clamping around his head, suffocating him. The sight of you cumming has Bucky finishing immediately. You look so fucking gorgeous, slight frown pulling at your lips, lines forming inbetween your eyebrows, it’s heaven on earth for him. His hips spasm and somehow even more cum than before bursts from his tip, making an even bigger mess.
Bucky doesn’t pull away from your pussy, he cant, it’s fucking addictive. He feels your slick running down to his wrist, and the taste of your cum is driving him insane. Only when you push him away does Bucky leave your pussy. “Did I do good, mommy?” He groans when he licks his fingers. Both of you are panting heavily, trying to catch your breath.
You pull him up and let him rest his head on your chest. “You did so good for me, I’m so proud of you, honey. You made mommy feel so good.” You feel how he relaxes into your chest, all the while you whisper to him, letting him know how good he was and how much you love him.
After a few minutes, Bucky begins to wiggle around, the cum in his boxers becoming uncomfortable. You have to move him, going to the bathroom and getting a damp cloth to clean him up with. “Honey, can I take your pants off and clean you up?” At his blush you add, “It’s okay, honey, mommy just wants to make you feel better, nothing to be embarrassed about.”
He lets you take his boxers off and you clean him off as gently as you can, trying to avoid the overstimulated tip of his cock. You throw his soiled underwear in the hamper and give him a new pair to put on. Climbing back into bed, Bucky goes straight to your chest, cuddling to you. “Go to bed, honey. Mommy’s right here.” Bucky falls asleep, feeling safe and protected in the arms of his best girl.
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