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#it still wouldn't so much as make you consider the thought they might have a point
a-b-riddle · 2 days
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Part Four
Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.
"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.
"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."
"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.
"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."
You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.
"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.
Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.
It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.
It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.
In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.
"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."
"You think it was a stunt?"
"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."
"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."
"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."
"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."
"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."
You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.
You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.
"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”
For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.
Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?
"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.
You were finally angry.
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colourme-feral · 24 hours
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Hi! Thank you so much for your translation notes on Living With Him, they've helped me enjoy this great show even more! I wanted to ask about one particular line that was confusing to me in context. Right after the forehead touch, Kazuhito says "If trying this out makes you uncomfortable, I'll be shocked." I am guessing the word "shocked" has more a meaning of upset or unhappy (as opposed to English where it primarily means surprised, which wouldn't make sense in this context) - is that right? And is there any more sense of what "this" in "trying this out" indicates?
Thanks so much!
Hi and thank you for the ask about this scene in ep 3 of Living with Him, @ginnymoonbeam!
Sorry for taking a while with this. I have to be a little honest and say that this conversation was a little tricky for me, so I'm going by what I think Kazuhito is saying and included some explanation for my thoughts on the exchange. Sorry for the extremely long and rambly response and I hope it does help!
For another response to this scene, @isaksbestpillow also received an ask about it!
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That's why I said I wouldn't (kiss you)/that we wouldn't (kiss)* Even if you tried it and you felt gross about it, it would still be a shock to you. I mean, that's... You don't know/understand, do you? *I changed how I thought the translation would better suit the context of this conversation from my previous post on ep 3's translation notes.
Notes:
The meaning of 'this' in "if trying this out" would be about Ryota kissing Kazuhito.
'Shock' in this case does mean surprise, but in the negative sense. And now for the ramble about why that might be the case, since the line was not translated well by Gaga:
There are several points that I think need to be considered in understanding what is being said here.
Ryota has admitted that he's been trying to see if Kazuhito is interested in him and took back the suggestion that they kiss while claiming that was a joke, which he apologised for.
Ryota has been going hard on with the "you're perfect, but why don't girlfriends stick around?" agenda but doesn't seem to be showing any romantic inclination towards Kazuhito or that he is gay.
Kazuhito is gay and has come out to Ryota, who may not understand how hurtful he has been with his actions and words and still may not understand the effect of what he's said or done, especially since Kazuhito likes Ryota. He's also said to Ryota that even though he likes Ryota, he's simply letting him know and that nothing between them has to change.
Thus far, Ryota has been doing things that test his theory out without really considering how Kazuhito feels about it, or the consequences of his actions. If they were to kiss, I think it would change things completely because this is the one thing that Ryota has considered which friends don't do (for argument's sake, let's agree). What Kazuhito means by "it would be a shock to you" is that this is probably when reality will hit Ryota and he will be shocked by how far he's gone to find out the answer to his suspicions without thinking things through: He'd have kissed his friend just to check if his friend likes him and on top of that, he's probably straight and a kiss would be much harder to play off or take back.
Kare no Iru Seikatsu / Living with Him language notes・Other language notes
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ecoamerica · 24 days
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Of Oblivious Minds (4)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst
a/n: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait!! I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think ❤️
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
~~
You were leaving today, and suddenly—with your bags at your feet and the air around you filled with stagnant silence—a few days seemed so juvenile. So… inconsequential in the grand scheme. 
You would leave, and when you returned everything would be the same. Azriel would still love another and you would still be left with the bleak realization that you had spent the last few centuries denying a love that you knew to be fruitless. 
Nothing would change if you were to be gone only a few measly days. 
But if you were to be gone a month? A year, even? 
Much of your work for Rhysand could be done from afar, especially with the library in Day Court. Helion wouldn’t mind; he’d asked you to consider an extended stay in the past. And maybe there could even be something there, something to take your mind off of your true home. 
The home that wasn’t Velaris. 
You saw him every time you closed your eyes. His rare smiles, his even rarer laughs; you saw the way his watchful eyes skated across every room you entered and reminisced on each twitch of his hands—the way you could feel it against your fingers when you grabbed for him in the busy streets of Velaris. 
Azriel was inescapable, even when you battled against your vision and attempted to drift to sleep. 
He was everywhere, everything. 
But he wouldn’t be in Day Court, and although that wouldn't stop your thoughts, it would be something. It would be distance. 
With a flick of your wrist, you sent your bags away to Day Court and heaved in an uncomfortably large breath. You knew he would do little to deny you, but you still needed to ask Rhys. He was your High Lord and employer, above all your friend, and you knew it would take a little persuading. 
Maybe tears. Yes, tears were very moving and equally as conjurable at the moment.
It only took one step before the knock on your door left you still. Your shoes made a dent in the carpet and you could hear him breathing on the other side of the ornately carved wood. You could always tell when it was Azriel. 
You shifted your weight from one knee to the next, gripping your skirts at the thigh. Azriel knocked again, this time in a faster pattern—more rushed. 
You bit into your lip. You hadn’t planned to see him again, not before you left. You would deal with the repercussions of such an act later on, but not now. Not when you had finally gotten your emotions under control for long enough to have a conversation with Rhys. 
It made sense to you now why you had repressed this for so long. 
The sound of your voice was startling. “Come in.” 
The door creaked, but the sound was overpowered by Azriel’s boot clicking against shining marble. The shadowsinger entered before his shadows, but the wisps followed close behind, quickly abandoning their master in favor of darting toward you. They twisted up your legs and elbows, rolling into your hair and dancing along your fingertips. 
Something like fear, love, crushing defeat tugged and tugged at your chest. 
“Azriel,” you greeted, aiming for a surprised tone and failing. “Have you come to see me off?” 
The spymaster didn’t smile. “Rhys sent me. He said you might have a message for him.” 
That cauldron-damned meddler. Of course he somehow knew about your reservations. You doubted he knew exactly what you had to say, but you had been dragging your feet all morning and were currently about an hour late for your own departure. 
And of course he had sent Azriel of all people. 
“Oh! Well, I suppose I could go and—” 
“Why is half of your vanity gone?” 
You blinked, startled by the words. If Azriel was anything, he was polite and never one to cut someone off. You went to search Azriel’s expression but found him zeroed in on the table pushed into the corner of your room. 
“What?” It was all you could think to formulate. 
But Azriel was quick to respond. “Almost all of your things are gone. Your perfumes and the pots of cream you keep on the side. You’ve only left the items you don’t use anymore.” 
“How do you know—” you cut yourself off this time, ignoring the glaring question that tried to blind you. “Azriel, I’m going away… to Day Court. You know this.”
But Azriel only shook his head, stalking over to the table and yanking the drawer open so harshly it shook the mirror. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he went to your closet, throwing open the door, shoulders rising and falling with more effort. 
“Azriel—” 
“You’ve packed too much.” He turned to you, some of his shadows returning to wind around his chest. “You’ve taken most of your clothes.” 
“You know I always overpack,” you laughed, but the laugh sounded fake, painful. 
You fought the urge to cower under Azriel’s scrutinizing gaze. It was as if he was on fire, as if he was aflame and filled with something that had been pent up for far too long. If someone, anyone, were to look inside of you, they would see the same thing. 
Which is why you needed to get far, far away from this situation. Away from him.
But the longer you looked back at him—the longer you tried to slap that easygoing smile on your face—the longer he stared back with the same steady intensity. 
“Is something the matter?” you tried. 
Azriel’s hand twitched. 
That feeling crept along the edges of your ribs once again. 
“Is something the matter?” he parroted, jaw so impossibly tight the words came out pinched. 
You finally looked away, playing with your fingers. “Yes?” 
He started laughing. But it wasn’t the kind of laugh that made you feel light. It didn’t fill you with pride for eliciting such a sound from him, nor did it make you want to laugh in return. It made you feel dark; as Azriel laughed, you wanted to heave the sound back within the depths it flowed from. 
“There are several things that are the matter, y/n, but I’d say the most pressing is that you have been avoiding me for weeks. That every moment I’ve tried to spend with you has been promptly evaded and now you’re leaving and you had no intention of saying goodbye.” 
“I was going to—” 
“Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft yet so achingly desperate. “Don’t lie to me. Not right now.” 
The indent in the carpet was becoming permanent; you couldn’t seem to move. 
“I’ve been… I’ve been going through a hard time. Leaving seemed like it was the best for me. Just for a little while. Just until I could sort a few things out.” 
“For how long?” he asked, voice cracking along the precipice of the last word. 
You paused then, staring hard into his eyes. “A while.”
A shaky breath left the shadowsinger, his chest reflecting the sound. He ran a hand into his hair and tugged at the roots, an action you hadn’t seen him do in years. A sickening sort of pity ran through you—a sort of responsibility. 
Because Azriel was your friend, and he was going through something, too. You had no idea if his mate reciprocated his feelings. You found it hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t love Azriel, but the conversation you’d overheard last week gave nothing away. 
Maybe Azriel hadn’t told her yet because she didn’t love him. And maybe you were being a bad friend by not being there for him. 
Tossing your hurt to the side, you took a step forward. Azriel watched the movement, eyes flickering behind you to catch the previous imprint of your feet on the carpet. 
“I’m sorry,” you began, resolute. “I’m sorry that you felt you couldn’t tell me. And that you’ve been… having a hard time. I know I’m not leaving at the most opportune time, but you can write to me and I can help you.” 
Some of the brokenness on Azriel’s face morphed into confusion. “Help me?” 
“With your mate.” 
And it was as if Azriel had been shot. He physically recoiled, his right foot coming down to catch him as he fixed his imbalance. 
“I know you wanted to keep it private, but I overheard. Azriel—” You swallowed. Hard. “—It’s so wonderful that you’ve found your mate.” 
Something was set in motion, and Azriel was shaking his head. His gaze was fixed on you and his eyebrows were pushed together in a painful expression and he just kept shaking his head as your chest caved and it became hard to breathe. Something pulled from within and it felt like your heart was unraveling. 
Couldn’t he see how hard this was? How much it took from you just to acknowledge that he was destined for someone else? 
The shadowsinger seemed unaware of your inner turmoil, instead taking long steps across the room until he reached you. He leaned down, brought his hands up to your face, and he broke another piece of you as his forehead touched yours. 
He was whispering something, words so low even your fae ears couldn’t catch them, but you knew they were fast. Fast and incoherent and you weren’t even able to find their meaning in his expression because his eyes were squeezed so tightly. 
“Please, just notice. See it, angel, it’s there.” 
Your jaw quivered. He was so close to you. The few words you were able to make out were confusing. 
“My oblivious girl. Please.” 
“Azriel—” 
When he opened his eyes, the world fell off its axis. The fear in your chest—the feeling that had been unraveling you and leaving you weak—alighted. It pulled and pulled but this time it didn’t hurt. It no longer left splinters embedded in your ribs or took the breath from your lungs. 
As you looked up at Azriel, it was only soothing and warm and—
Mate. Azriel was your mate. 
You pushed back from him, stumbling and catching on the rug as you went toppling down to the floor. There was no pain from the fall; a numbness overtook your body where the warmth once flowed. 
“You’re my—Azriel, you—” 
There were no endings to the sentences you began. Azriel tried reaching a hand down, but when you wouldn’t take it he joined you on the floor. He sat with you between his legs, bringing you forward until your knees curled against his chest. And then he wrapped you in his arms and then his wings, taking calming breaths as yours ran rampant. 
“I am your mate,” he finished for you, so much more soothing than you had ever heard him speak.
“But Elain,” you gasped out, finding solace against his chest. You leaned your forehead against him and relished in the heat. 
“What of Elain?” Azriel asked, bringing a hand up against the back of your head. 
“You love Elain.” 
“I do not love Elain.” 
“And Mor?” 
“I do not love Mor, either.” 
You nodded against him. This would take longer for you to come to terms with later, but only simple answers were getting through to you now. And the bond—the bond—sang as you touched Azriel. The bond didn’t care if you were confused or hurt or disbelieving.
Your mind swam as a new influx of emotions filled you, but there was a distinction to them and you knew they weren’t your own. At first, it was hard to pick through them all; there were so many that they all blended together. There was an obvious tender love, but also a crippling fear that mingled with a darkness you couldn’t place. There was adoration and hopefulness and a sense of peace that lay at the bottom of all else. 
But you could tell this peace was new. It wasn’t as deeply ingrained as the others. 
Azriel leaned back, craning his neck down to catch your gaze. “Do you feel that?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued. “Those feelings have always belonged to you. All of them. I know there is not a lot of proof of that, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that, but they have always belonged to you.” 
“Have you always felt mine?” you asked, voice sounding unused. 
“Since I’ve felt the bond,” he nodded. 
“How long have you…” 
Azriel sighed, but it wasn’t out of irritation. The bond told you as much. “Months.” 
Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “Then why did you never—” 
Azriel shushed you as your voice cracked. He ran both hands behind your head and held you steady as his lips pressed to your forehead. 
“I didn’t want to lose you.” 
Throat still closed, words still choked, you replied, “That is idiotic.” 
This time, when Azriel laughed, you felt that pride spark up in your chest. “I know, angel. Gods, do I know that.” 
There was a brief pause, a respite to the revelations and emotions in the room. You counted your breaths as you pressed against Azriel, and he ran his hands up and down the length of your spine, chaste kisses pressed to your head as the minutes ticked by. 
“Don’t leave.” Azriel broke the silence. “Stay. Please.” 
When you didn’t answer, he kept talking. 
“You don’t have to love me. I know that is a lot to ask and there are still so many questions left unanswered. But, y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I couldn’t bear it if you left. It has been difficult to even function this past week with you avoiding me. If you were to leave—”
“I only avoided you because I thought it wasn’t me,” you interrupted, pulling back once again to meet his gaze. “I thought you didn’t love me and I couldn’t stand it, so I wanted to leave.”
A grim line set into Azriel’s mouth. The desperation returned to his eyes. “We have wasted so much time.” 
“I wouldn’t say wasted. Not when you were here. Not when I was still with you.” 
“Angel.” The word came out like a plea, and then his lips were on yours. His hands pressed you closer and his mouth was hot against yours and it was everything you’d spent three centuries ignoring. You loved him, gods did you love him, and in this kiss was every proof that he loved you. 
You tangled your fingers in his hair, musing the already displaced strands. His wings quivered as you kissed him more, the action sending little pools of light into the bubble he had created. They felt warm against your eyelids, and when you pulled away to see the cause, Azriel moved his attention to your jaw, your cheek, your neck. 
“You are my mate,” he affirmed against your skin, low and gravelly. “Mine.��� 
You pulled his head away, leaning your forehead against his own. “And you are mine.” 
“I love you,” he said. 
And you couldn’t say it back, not yet. Azriel seemed unperturbed by this and accepted your small smile as a reply, reciprocating it tenfold. His smile shone in the pockets of light created by his wings and his eyes no longer looked sad. It made you want to say it back.
When that guilt flooded you and your mouth parted, there was a tug at the bond instead. You gasped at the feeling, blinking up at Azriel with owlish eyes. 
“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted, smile softening as he ran scarred fingers along your cheeks. “Every time I felt your doubt or fear. I figured I could startle it out of you.” 
You rubbed at your chest. “It feels warm. And…” You couldn’t find the words.
“It feels good, angel. This bond was cold and it hurt, but it—it feels good. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” 
A breathy, awestruck laugh escaped you. “You know, I still have to go to Day for the weekend. It’s court-appointed.” 
Azriel groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Then I will come with you,” he grumbled, words muffled against your skin. 
“You cannot. But you can wait for me to return and I will come right back here.”
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anantaru · 8 months
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EX HUSBAND NEUVILLETTE
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband neuvillette headcanons
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, fluff, crack lmao, he‘s trying his best, very rough like he’s feral!!!!, fucks you like there’s no tomorrow, but the sweetest man, a little possessive without him realising
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ex! husband neuvillette, who— as was wildly anticipated, would not instantly vanish from your life nor leave you stranded alone beside the mental toll that a separation would leave on the both of you— even after the grief-stricken divorce was at last, ultimately finalized and carried out.
ex! husband neuvillette who thought that— with the fullness of his devastated heart, that in his own very eyes, it was beyond a doubt commonplace to aid and assist his ex-wife in the so called "aftermath" of your troubling divorce, whilst more urgently, be in no qualms that you're being cared for with everything and anything you could possible need.
ex! husband neuvillette, who of course, would double check with you to not suddenly overstep any boundaries or take up space that you might need— yet bare in mind, if you were to ask him for help on any matter really, he'd immediately leave everything behind to fulfill your wishes first, considering he is used to it, but the man will tend to forget about his own personal needs which he needed so he could function properly— yet now with you out of the picture, walking back to his current reality was becoming a taxing task.
ex! husband neuvillette, who, aside from his own separate challenges and demands, would never dare to cast aside his important work of practically running the nation of hydro. much obliged, he was a prestigious, praiseworthy man, thus the reason for him to pull more effort and sleepless nights into his occupation.
ex! husband neuvillette who couldn't believe that you both were divorced in the first place because in all seriousness, there wasn't much changing and aside from a couple instances, for example that he wasn't seeing you frequently, it felt the same way to him.
ex! husband neuvillette who, after a couple weeks into your divorce, will suddenly become a little more distant, not responding to letters you would occasionally send to make sure he was okay— with the immediate turbulent, overcast weather in fontaine adding to the closing eeriness of the entire situation. it's constant, clouded and gray, a mirage of cold rain and an incoming storm, and the people of fontaine will begin to question what had happened or if it was simply an unlucky past couple of weeks.
ex! husband neuvillette who doesn't like the idea of divorce, as might be expected he understands it, but in his own regard, he does not approve of it, but he accepts it— additionally, he wouldn't force you to stay with him, again, why he had agreed on it in the first place. the man would lie to himself if he'd say that it doesn't break his heart, the unclouded thought of wholly erasing the person he referred to as his 'wife' off his entire life was a frightening pondering.
ex! husband neuvillette wasn't willing to accept it, ever, but he did it for your sake and the small possibility of you becoming close again, in the future? perhaps, he was willing to wait endlessly, condemning himself to a lifetime in darkness, knowing full on well that his most desired dream to reconcile arguably wouldn't come true— on top of that, after careful, deep talks on how to properly navigate your divorce and being separated from now on, you have both ultimately agreed on remaining 'friends' in a sense, such was easy to state of course but you longed to make the best out of it, or at least try.
ex! husband neuvillette who will against all odds, still keep his wedding ring put on its designated place. granted, he had gotten quite accustomed to the feeling of it being wrapped around his finger and doesn't want to take it off. if you do decide to ask him about it, given that you aren't wearing yours anymore, he will plainly state that he got used to it way too much and it had grown on him, really, becoming a part of his person so ultimately taking it off would result in the same as him severing a limb off his body.
ex! husband neuvillette who still calls you his wife unintentionally, in the beginning of the first couple of weeks, it will happen almost all the time. be that as it may, he doesn't do it on purpose to somehow hurt you or make you uncomfortable, and he was aware of the fact that he needed to get accustomed to the feeling of being single again, of not being married anymore but calling you his wife just warmths his chest and hugs him from inside and out.
ex! husband neuvillette bets on it, it's like his whole day could be stacked with work on end, without a second of tranquility in sight, rain droplets covering the nation of hydro, but when he thinks about you, only you, a smile coruscates over his soft lips, increasing his heart beat, it's all so painful but he wouldn't want it any other way because nothing, and he emphasizes it deeply, nothing would be as painful as having you gone form his life.
ex! husband neuvillette who, and pay attention now, this would only happen if his strong, rational thinking skills and durable emotions towards keeping the laws of this world truthful were somewhat altered in an instance of weakness, but he would adore to throw and punish every new person you would date after him behind bars, yet not before properly dragging them to a trail that they cannot win, for him to look down on them— again, it's a small fantasy he wouldn't bring into life, he honored his noble work.
ex! husband neuvillette who knows that even day dreaming about such wrongful ideas were full of holes and malice, yet beyond it, he keeps himself restrained in not interfering in your new relationships— which he had thought must be a lot, you could say he believed that you were already out and about in the dating world, overthinking the worst out of all possibilities that could happen.
ex! husband neuvillette who will oftentimes send the melusines out to check up on you and tell him how you're doing— no, don't misunderstand, he doesn't want to know if you were dating again, he wouldn't, after all, this was your personal life and he wasn't your husband anymore. but then again, surely checking every now and then wouldn't hurt a soul, right?
ex! husband neuvillette will send you freshly picked flowers frequently, or have your favorite dish made by a professional chef. how can i forget to mention that he tends to buy a small, cute souvenir that would remind him of you and send it your way instantly. at how things were slowly progressing, the man will be quite embarrassed in facing you again, granted that you had promised to remain friends, he fears that the constant raining and pouring around fontaine would make it desperately obvious on how he was truly feeling, what can there be left anyways, nothing but the untouchable part of him, his aching soul begging for closeness.
but ex! husband neuvillette does not want to trouble you, fearing he might become overbearing in his doings, but he misses you, this time it's more raw than that, more exposed, more pure. he longes for a moment where he can see and feel you again, his mind circling through emotions and pondering, sinful dreams stitching his psyche together and calming down his heart.
ex! husband neuvillette who will be surprised, yet overly thrilled as if he was about to jump off his chair, when you ask the sweet melusines to hand him over a letter— the scent of the thin paper reminding him of your fragrance, a similar one he noticed whenever he kissed your neck. beyond question, they couldn't have told him fast enough, he finishes up the necessary work load for the day, at once forging ahead to your once shared house. you know it by now but he does not falter, he wants this to be perfect, carefully picking up a bouquet of flowers, with the flowers in questions being the very ones that have been decorating your wedding venue back in the day, oh sweet memories, he hopes he doesn't come off as crazy.
ex! husband neuvillette who tries to play it cool, it's not a big deal, but why were his hands sweating? his breathing was fast too, burgeoning, each following step towards your home, his limbs and muscles would begin to tremble, it's evident and almost aflame, but the weather has been nice again all of a sudden, for once in fontaine and he couldn't wait to see you.
ex! husband neuvillette who cannot say anything when you open the door for him, all these miles with the memories of your passionate time together pouring back into his mind. it's silly, but so real, and there was a silence, although not of an uncomfortable kind, it was overthrowing the hefty atmosphere.
and honestly, you think ex! husband neuvillette was cute when he was all overwhelmed and bereft of speech, even cuter when he’s silently walking past the door, your hands slowly wrapping around the bouquet of flowers to place them aside, on top of a wooden drawer before panning your eyes back into his grasp— which was his piercing, conquering gaze.
you could perceive the cutting tautness, how the reinforced pressure alone couldn't be torn, not with a sharp knife, no sword, no blade, because forthrightly— there wasn't anything on this planet that was able to part this emerging and crashing body chemistry.
all fairness to the situation— your captivation was off the charts, two people unable to coexist while parted, searching within your souls to understand what was happening. yet then it hit you, that maybe— heavily placed on a single maybe, that there might've been a cruel mistake in how things ended between you both;
or did they end?
because like a bullet piercing through soft flesh, it gave the impression away as if you were both moving closer to your sweet frames until you could clearly feel his warm, clothed chest pushed against your own— hopeful eyes remained locked within your gazes as you carefully slide your hands behind his neck without breaking his stares.
ex! husband neuvillette whose breathing was all fast and hasty, yet much swifter was his never ending intention to kiss you again and taste your lips in the process, he cannot stop himself anymore, but he must— for some reason, he cannot fathom that this might be reality and that you both would have a second chance in this life after all.
"kiss me." you suddenly whisper, eyes aglow with his own enlarging at the nervous utterance, subtle touches weaving together and showing your open truths.
ex! husband neuvillette feels how tense he has gotten and tries to relax— on top of that, he was reminiscing about the past and the bare memories of your writhing body splayed under his large one, his entire weight on top of you, just the whisper of his sinful imagination made his mouth water— he truly believes he was in fact dreaming right now, especially when you tell him to kiss him again.
there were no thoughts to process anymore, no focus he could grasp on to remain clearness— what was left were true, unfaltering desires and the scalding pain of waiting. that‘s when you kiss him instead, his body immediately welcoming your fervid warmth, pulling his head towards your own in a heart beat.
ex! husband neuvillette felt a heavy hardship being lifted off his shoulders the moment your lips touch his, and each one of the words he had planned to spell out to you, they form into a sting that was beating into his heart, repeatedly, the sharp stitches seeping into his veins slowly. and he refuses to cry in front of you, or expose to you that everything that had happened after your separation was covered in nothing but a silent numbness.
swallowing the lump in his throat, ex! husband neuvillette guides you to the bedroom, it was hard to decipher what was real or not, each motion of your lips rounding across his own felt like he was dreaming the most beautiful dream of them all. the whisper of cold air brushes across your bodies when he opens the door to the cold room, his own imagination going wild when he peeks at the neatly made bed, or the wooden drawer next to it, still having your wedding picture on display.
ex! husband neuvillette who takes his time in undressing you, the fear of someone taking you away from him again, even now, was still there and he wanted, no, needed to relish in this as good as possible. neuvillette wets his lips, nervous, "my love.. are you sure about this?" and he hesitated for a second— but when you tug at his own sleeves now, fondling with the expensive garment, nodding your head and expertly wrapping your digits into the thin fabric to help him out of it, he knows you wanted it as badly as he did, popping his arms back so you could pull his coat down, your mouth twisting into a subtle smile.
ex! husband neuvillette who touches you featherlight, slowly parting your legs to settle in between, and butterflies expand in your belly when you admire his beauty from up close again, his muscles twitching when you decide to lightly graze his skin with your fingertips, smoothly sliding over his chest before wrapping your arms around his neck. 
ex! husband neuvillette who could honestly cry the moment he first slides his cock into you again, kissing you again and again, more deeply, more feral and in need before licking into your mouth, leaving his large hand to wander down to the plush of your ass and push you into the mattress when he first bottoms out of you. you're so warm, wet and comfortable while you're clamping down on him. and neuvillette pistols his hips like an electric light, hoping he'd be able to hit so deep inside your warm cunt till you practically feel him stir up your guts.
and a moan slowly builds up in your throat as your tits brush against his strong chest— whilst neuvillette places a delicious, fast pace on you, the bare strength of his thrusts making the headboard bounce back and forth the wall as he nibbles on your bottom lip while fucking his cock into you, your gummy walls squelching at each well received pump.
ex! husband neuvillette who roughly palms your tits and plays with your nipples with his hips moving in a feral tempo— whilst those breathy, wet pleas of your name, the ones he whispered against your ear, evolve into gluttonous, hungry groans, whilst the thought about losing all of this made it more difficult for him to say anything at all, his throat acting as a trap for that one sentence he intended to spell out, the sound of it awaiting to break free— but the nervousness couldn't be surpassed as he takes a hold of your hand, desperately clutching on it before grinding his erection back into you, a pulse surging through the entirety of your walls.
ex! husband neuvillette who finds it mesmerizing on how you were so responsive to his every nibble and touch, his thudding cock diving between your legs while he fists your tits in his warm hand, your lips parting with cries and begs while meeting his hungry pace.
his hips, much bigger than yours, keep hitting into you, a lustful gaze on your facial expression clouding your mind as he makes you feel so unbelievably good, soaking your sheets as you kiss him, famished and hot, feeling his needy grunts exhaling through his lips as you clench down hard, gazes meeting once and for all, "i love you." you say, almost cry it out, and neuvillette wanted to be patient with you, claim your body to its full exhaustion afterwards, but not now, he cannot keep his cool this time— not anymore, not after you said those very three words he wasn't able to utter out all night.
you're truly driving him insane, and his body was pressing hotly against yours as you wiggle and writhe under him, puppy eyes watching him please you from under your lashes while you’re requiring more of his cock in you, please please, you say, your pussy clamping around his girth and milking him for good.
ex! husband neuvillette who tells you, "i love you too, i love you too.." in quick, fast paced syllables, and the burning veins in his body turn numb when you begin to cry out of joy and pleasure, hastily pushing your heels into his back to signal him to fuck you harder as he pounds away into your creamy pussy, dragging his hard erection along your sore walls and burning pleasure spots.
now— your nails simmer over his defined back, both sweetly indulging in each others company and the feeling of being one again, nothing else but solid, fast paced pleasure which was turning him on, so fucking much, his breathing puffed and winded, throwing his head back as you're doing your best to match his insane rhythm.
your pussy swallows him up like magic, your damp lashes tickling his shoulders as he buries his face against your neck to suck on the wet flesh, in accessory to the numerous amount of praises, declarations of love and filthy curses plastering your sweaty skin. or how about the swallowing screams and begs of your name that ripple through him as you moan out fervently, twitching under his towering body and arching your back.
oh, well? it's now or never your “ex” husband fears, and he decides to push his pulsing cock deep into your hole, deeper, just a little bit more, please! until you're desperately screaming into his shoulder, as far as it can fit into your little pussy, sending you over an intoxicating edge.
and ex! husband neuvillette was, at long last, back at where he should be, where he should've been all along, with you, making passionate and meaningful love to each other, because the man needed it, needed you close to him, and he cannot and will never again, paint the world without you in it.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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starryeyedjanai · 15 days
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Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.
The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.
He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.
He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.
He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.
Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.
The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.
He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.
When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).
Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.
Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.
He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.
“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”
Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”
His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.
In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.
“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”
“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.
When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”
Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.
Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”
“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”
“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.
There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.
Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”
Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.
“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.
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kalims · 3 months
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scribbles
"( – ⌓ – ) ⎯⎯ he lets you draw on his skin, yeah thats pretty much it.
ft. malleus, vil
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malleus
it was... a breach of your patience.
the lesson, was awfully boring. the more you listened to the apparent 'heroic' doings of certain individuals. the more it strips away your attentiveness to the words spilling out of professor trein's mouth. no matter how many times you will your ears to make out the incoherent lecturing of the man... it remains deaf.
so you decide to sate said boredom.
how? of course you need to bother your seatmate!
your intentions remained within the circle of yourself of course. your eyes stuck to the stray marker over your paper so you silently twisted the cap off and scribbled on your paper—then it was your palm—and now, malleus' arm.
"child of...?" man. malleus finishes in his mind, his attention suddenly snapped away at the sudden tug of his arm. definitely not his own decision to even make it move in the first place. usually it would remain stiffly beside his body like usual and even if someone tried to pry it to them it would remain still. but without his attention, his body lets you.
without another word. you peel open his fingers, palm open to you and it's a notion he allows. and he stays silent when you tug his gloves off. perhaps with a curious huff, malleus drifts closer to you. to accommodate your actions that he's yet to get an explanation for.
... and suddenly there's very bright flowers drawn on his palm.
said owner of the palm might just be toe darkest person in the room so it's quite out of place.
but it's from you so he likes it.
he peeks at it, with a fond smile on his face. I should enchant it to remain there forever. he thinks to himself, the curve of his lips growing wider at his thoughts, like he'd proud of the idea. the idea of being able to carry around something made exclusively by you might as well shove him into a cannonball and send him to cloud nine.
it's adorable. you're adorable.
his world grows a little more blue the more he stares at you. and if it weren't for the searing glances the professor sends your way malleus would just let his eyes engrave you into his memory forever, so he laments over it and reluctantly peels his gaze off you. mind speaking a thousand memories, the very same reason he somehow can't hear anything trein says.
you draw a strange looking lizard beneath his ring finger, one that looks a little like him and he thinks that you're asking him for marriage.
that can be arranged... he ponders, oblivious.
vil
drawings, doodles, painting— art. a reflection of the soul.
vil is great at makeup.
every brush on your face, a step to beauty. that is his reflection. you are his soul. he wants to make you look—no, make you feel like you're beautiful cause the canvas he's standing in front of is his greatest piece of art, he'd want to put you on the tallest pedestal there is. the grandest one just so the rest knows your beauty is parallel to none, something they can see and admire but not reach.
but he also wants to keep you in his own room, because only he knows what he felt when he painted you. only he should be the one given the grace.
this... he doesn't know what to consider.
perhaps vil should be bothered, if not then a little peeved at the several colors across his skin. a myriad of doodles, some words, and some simple drawings. a poor portrait of him is drawn next to one he assumes yours, the 'fairest' word on the right side of his hand, and flowers.
he's sure though. you're definitely no artist.
the thought cracks a smile at him, and you steal a glance midst the cool tip of the pen dancing along his skin. "I'd thought you wouldn't even let me do this," you admit, chair having been moved over closer to him so you wouldn't have any leaning problems. a suggestion by vil you gratefully took up, though you doubt it was just another excuse to have you closer.
"why?"
"dunno," you shrug. "it looks unseemly compared to you."
he huffs, flashing you a light smirk. "so my face is, hmmm..." vil ponders for a moment, and your face twists to the realization that you possibly just exposed what you think. but you suppose it isn't really a problem since it was basically common sense that vil is...
"gorgeous." you finish for him.
his aura brightens. (probably will be for the rest of the week.)
your hand retracts from him, the marker gripped between your fingers. and he takes a look at your 'art.' he doesn't know if he should consider it as one since there are a heap of sloppy lines, and the color bleeds into his skin. some smudges that you accidentally brushed against that makes it seem like a messy picture of chaos.
vil strives for perfection, but it's only natural there are flaws. to love oneself, you must love all parts. and to love you, he loves whatever the ink on his skin is.
well, what the heck.
"pass it to me," he stretches his hand, and you quirk a brow. questioning but curious so he indulges you. "I'll show you how it's done."
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note. ngl idk what I wrote for vil it's currently 12 AM rn ☠ <- newer note, this has been rotting in my drafts for weeks and I couldn't decide whether to post it cause I wasn't sure about vil's but here hehehe
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yandere-daydreams · 9 months
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Sphinx!Xiao, who finds you stranded in the desert after your research group gets separated. A pack of wild coyote hybrids thought to be amicable, if not friendly towards humans attacked your camp in the middle of the night and sent you running aimlessly into the sand plains without time to gather food or water, let alone distress flares. By the time you stumble onto a wind-beaten temple, you're freezing, dehydrated, and exhausted. You barely have the strength to drag yourself up the meager steps and through the degraded doorway before you collapse on the sandstone floor, only able to hope that, by some miracle, a search party would be able to find you before you died of exposure. A search party doesn't find you, obviously, but Xiao does.
Sphinx!Xiao, who refuses to show himself for days. You only know he's there by the gifts he leaves you - cactus pears, palm dates, flasks of water and bitter wine that burns your throat as it goes down. It's not much, but it's enough to keep you alive, and you're too desperate to turn down anything he gives you. He's generous, too, giving you more than enough to get by while you're still in that state of bleary half-consciousness. You think he can tell that survival's not your area of expertise, that if you were left to your own devices, it'd only be a matter of time before you ate something poisonous or wandered into a bobcat den. That, or you're just pathetic enough to earn a few sand-covered blankets on top of the bare necessities.
Sphinx!Xiao, who lets you fawn over him with a purse-lipped scowl when you do finally manage to corner your elusive savior. You honestly just want to thank him, but once he's in front of you, you can't help grinning as you rake your fingers through the ivory feathers of his massive wings and scratch at the bases of his rounded ears. You've never so much as heard of a creature with both the wings and eyes of a bird-based hybrid and the legs, tail, and fangs of a cat-based hybrid, so you can't stop yourself from treating him like the eighth wonder of the world (unintended affection a touch-starved Xiao secretly basks in, not that you notice the pale blush painted across his skin while you're performing a remarkably thorough investigation on the color of his paw-pads).
Sphinx!Xiao, who stand-offish at best, reclusive at worst. He's clearly not used to having someone to talk to, his voice rough and his dialogue usually limited to one-word phrases or barked orders, but you can usually manage to string along your brief conversations on your own, either wondering aloud when you might be rescued or telling him about all the things you're going to do when you make it back to civilization. For every hour you spend fantasizing about baths and take-out and air conditioning, he spares a few words about himself. From what you can gather, he's a guardian of-sorts, meant to protect people like you from a threat he claims you couldn't begin to understand. You're not really in a place to question him, considering you didn't even know a hybrid like him could exist a few weeks ago.
Sphinx!Xiao, who also claims he's not allowed to 'meddle in human matters', meaning he can't help you beyond making sure you don't starve to death. You've asked him if he's seen anyone looking for you while hunting, but he's never given you a straight answer, and when you suggest that he just, say, put that twenty-foot wingspan to use and drop you off on the edge of the nearest town or village, he just scowls, rolls his eyes, refuses to say anything at all. You want to press the subject, sometimes, but you really can't afford to annoy him, to make yourself even more of an irritation to him than you already are. You wouldn't survive a day out here, on your own. You wouldn't survive without Xiao.
Sphinx!Xiao, whose gifts have been getting more... modern, recently. Luxuries are still few and far between, but you have a small store of canned food, now, a couple fleece blankets that don't seem at least a decade old, bits of scrap metal and glass that must've caught Xiao's eye. You try not to pry, not to turn down anything he gives you, but his most recent gift - a half-crushed, silver wedding band with an odd, scarlet stain you can't seem to polish away - hasn't seen the light of day since he dropped it into your hand.
Sphinx!Xiao, who keeps his wings wrapped around you as you sob into his shoulder and beat your fists against his chest. You're not in the temple anymore, dilapidated and open, but his den - a hellish, lightless cave filled to bursting with golden jewelry and century-old artifacts and scraps of metal and clothing that couldn't have come from anything but human travelers, from dozens upon dozens of people who could've saved you if he hadn't gotten in the way.
Sphinx!Xiao, who hums and coos and purrs as he rubs circles into your back, as he promises that he's not going to hurt you, that he's not going to let anything hurt you ever again.
Sphinx!Xiao, who's always been a guardian, first and foremost. It's just that now, he's decided it's his responsibility to guard you.
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flamingpudding · 1 month
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I have a theory!
Duke groaned, his head tumping against his desk on his side of the room. He had heard these words often enough by now to know that his roommate was going to start ranting about something strange but weirdly fascinating again.
The last time his roommate started with that, he went on a rant how all rich people have a secret basement below their homes or some secretly identities with a bulletpoint list of what to look out for as a warning. Which Duke had a hard time not laughing about as he thought about Bruce, who ended up checking a lot of the bulletpoints.
"Danny what is it now?" Duke ended up asking after all. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop his roommate. No one aside from his sister apparently could, Danny even gave her number to Duke as an emergency number in case Danny ever gets so caught up in his own thoughts that even he himself couldn't stop himself anymore. Yeah that was weird to watch Danny trying to stop himself, but it was fascinating that his sister only needed to say his name twice over the speaker.
"Duke hear me out!" Okay of to a good start, so this meant Danny wasn't a hundred percent behind his own theory.
"Red Hood is a ghost or part ghost!"
If Duke had been drinking something, he would have taken a spit take here. For some reasons he had the image of Jason wearing a bed sheet saying the most deadpan 'Boo' in his head when Danny said that. He coughed, trying to hide that amusement. "What makes you say that?"
"You know how you 'saw' that I am a 'Meta'?" Danny ask him in return and Duke nodded still feeling a but weird with how Danny sounded when he refred to himself as Meta but also vividly remembering how his roommate pretty much blinded him on the day he moved into the dorms. "I can kind of see something similar. Like I explained how I have a ghost sense and all that, right?"
"Yea, you did." Duke nodded along, he new his roommate became a Meta through a lab accident. Once Duke had asked him and they had the cleared the air about both of them being Metas, Danny had somewhat opened up a bit on his whole weird family and Duke thought his family wasn't normal but compared to the Fentons the Batfamily might as well could be.
"Well last night I ran into him when I went scrap collecting for my engineering project!"
"DANNY!" Duke couldn't help but scowl. One the school was providing materials, Danny didn't need to do that and two, if he met Red Hood aka Jason that meant Danny wandered far enough to end up near or in Crime Alley! He would need to bug Jason later to find out more about that.
"I know, I know." His roommate waved him off. "Anyway, my ghost sense tingled. Soooo Red Hood got to be a ghost or part ghost, considering he hit a wall instead of phasing through it when he chased me..."
"Danny!" Duke scowled him again, hidding his amusement behind it. Now, he really had to get THAT story out of Jason later, plus he wanted to see if there maybe was possible video proof of Jason running into a wall chasing after Danny.
"Anyway! I got more than just that! Listen here, you know how I told you about some of my parents' inventions..." Danny instead continued finally starting his rant.
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Note
Hey, could you please do a Percy x daughter of Dionysus headcannons pls?
⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of dionysus! reader hcs
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content: percy jackson x daughter of dionysus! reader hcs warning: language, i think sexual references??? idk, mentions of death and grief author's note: i might as well just do all the greek gods daughters x percy jackson at this point. look, i love percy, really i do, but where are the leo requests??? the jason requests??? frank??? luke?? guys, save me from drowning in percy requests
the princess of camp half blood has arrived
even before she started dating percy she was little miss popular
shes like that one friend with like no shame or embarrassment, which in turn makes you have no shame or embarrassment and then somehow you guys are apart of a flash mob.
idk how else to explain it, like all inhibitions are gone
actually, it's like being drunk but still being able to think and what not
she, like her father, had a 'revolt against authority' habit.
lets not forget that dionysus got put in charge of camp half blood bc he was pissing off his own father
also, when new campers come and are like mr. d this and mr.d that, she just goes 'the d stands for dad' and walks away
its her funniest bit
she's actually pretty close with her father, but you wouldn't guess it from the way they yell at each other
"OUT OF ALL THE GUYS AT THIS GODS FORSAKEN CAMP?? PETER JOHNSON??"
"YOU KNOW HIS NAME, DEADBEAT. AND AT LEAST HE'S HOT!"
"I DON'T CARE IF HE'S A DAMN MODEL-"
that's love right there
when no one was looking - and i mean literally no one, if you see this, it's the last thing you see - they had their heartfelt moments
"here. it was the deepest back wine bottle i could find. im assuming that makes it the oldest."
"did i ever mention you're my favorite daughter? by far better than all those other ones...and i'm not just saying that because of the wine."
"I know, dad."
when castor died, one of her baby brothers, the first person she went sobbing to was her dad, dragging pollux with her as they both needed their dad in that moment
then she went running to percy, who held her like she would slip away.
percy found healthy ways for her to get her grief out, having found a secluded part of the woods and just letting her grow and kill and grow and kill those plants over and over again.
she'd later take pollux out there, help him the way percy helped her.
following what happened with castor, mr. d approached percy when his daughter wasn't around.
"look, i know we don't get along and you are quite literally the biggest pain in my ass but...i'm willing to be, er, civil. for her."
"you know what? i can look past the years of slander for her, too," percy replied, shaking mr. d's outstretched hand. mr. d rolled his eyes and went to make a smart comment before closing his mouth.
"and you'll look out for her?"
"with every inch of me."
"good."
as much as she loved her cabin, when she hung out with percy it was always in his cabin.
his bed was softer he'd say, but he actually just considered it neutral ground.
to go into the dionysus cabin would be asking to get choked out by vines.
though, the more percy thought about it, the more she was worth it.
his favorite thing to do with her tho is just explore new york
like i mentioned earlier, girly has no shame and will do a cartwheel on the sidewalk if you so much as think about it
it feels like he's seeing the city for the first time all over again, this time through her eyes
and the world was pretty beautiful through her eyes, percy was learning quickly
tho, not even close to as beautiful as her
cheeky bastard
but he’s YOUR cheeky bastard so you put up with his ass
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mysecretlittlelibrary · 8 months
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After The End
Pairing: Bucky x Reader/former Steve x Reader
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: idk... there's lots of arguing and resentment
Genre: mostly angst some fluff here and there
Summary: It took you ages to put yourself back together when Steve chose to stay in the 40s, what happens when he comes back two years after
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Life after Thanos was hard. Watching some of your closest friends disappear was not something you would ever be able to forget. Especially with those of you that were left scattered around trying to patch up what could be saved. Those five years were hard, but harder still was having almost everyone you loved return only to lose others. If you had known that beating Thanos would mean losing your boyfriend you might not have tried so hard. It's selfish to think that way, you know it is but you had a whole life planned with Steve, and being heroes you knew there was a chance you wouldn't get to see it through but losing him like this was- almost too much to bare. All he had to do was return the stupid stones to where you'd gotten them from to save the universe. It was supposed to be simple and there was something soul shattering about him choosing not to return to the team, to you. He took the stones back and then he stayed. Chose a life with Peggy that was never his rather than the life with you that he already had. It was agony, for months you were heartbroken. But you got through it. You mourned that life you envisioned, you mourned him, and while you'll probably always love him, you refused to let his choice destroy you. And you considered yourself lucky because Bucky was there for you through it all. On nights that were really bad, Bucky would stay with you even if you were up all night.
You aren't entirely sure when it happened, even now, looking back on it you can't pinpoint the moment late night conversations and afternoons completing chores became... more than that. You guess in spending so much time together you started to see Bucky in a different light. You'd always cared for him but what happened with Steve seems to have created a level of closeness you didn't expect. That first night that you kissed him was unexpected even to you. You'd been talking about nothing of consequence, he was lying on the floor of your room while you were in your bed, both of you staring at your ceiling for the most part. There was a lull in the conversation so you said the thing that had only clicked for you the week before at that point.
"I can't believe I let myself feel inadequate for so long." You sighed. You'd convinced yourself, for weeks, that Steve leaving was because you weren't enough, and only now were you coming to your senses about it.
"I'm sorry." Bucky had whispered it so quietly you almost thought he wasn't talking to you.
"You're sorry? For what? You didn't make him leave." You scoffed at him.
"For letting you feel less than perfect."
"Come on Buck, that's not on you." You'd rotated onto your stomach with a chuckle at his words. He'd cracked one eye open to look at you when he realized you were staring at him. Before you let yourself think about it too hard, you had leaned over the edge of your bed and kissed Bucky. It was quick and a bit awkward because of the angle but you made sure not to shy away from his surprised stare after.
"Did you just-" Bucky didn't even finish the question.
"Yeah. I guess I did." You'd smiled slowly watching a slight pink warm Bucky's cheeks.
You wish you could simply say 'and the rest is history' but that makes it seem like things were way easier than they were. It wasn't a smooth transition by any means. That night neither of you spoke for far too long, and when you could muster up something to say it wasn't to address the rapidly growing elephant in the room- it was to dispell the tension. You and Bucky spent two weeks dancing around the subject before he finally asked you if you were even ready for another relationship after Steve. That's when it clicked, why he'd been avoiding it in the first place, he was considering the possibility you were rebounding. Understandable concern but nope. It had been months, almost a year actually, since Steven had left. You knew you were in a place to begin again and you wanted to do it with Bucky.
Now the rest is history. You've been together ever since. About a year and a half at this point and you can't remember the last time you were this happy. The two of you meshed so well you can't believe there was a time you thought your future was with another man. You smile to yourself as you think about it while working on a painting. There's a knock at the front door that you almost don't hear.
"Y/n can you get the door? I'm in the bathroom!" Bucky shouts.
"Oh shit, of course!" You put down your brush and head to the door. You can't describe the shock that gripped you when you open the door.
"Steven." You blink at him.
"Hey. Nat- told me you'd moved. Luckily she uh, had your new address so-" He trails off with a shrug.
"Look not to- sound rude or anything, like I'm glad to see you, I think but, what are you doing here?" You ask.
"I thought- I thought I knew what I wanted but I got it wrong. I got it so wrong. My life- my happiness, it's here. With you." Steve steps towards you and you instinctively step back, placing a hand up gently to indicate your boundary.
"Hang on a second Steve. Just because your plan didn't work out doesn't mean you can just waltz back into my life like nothing's changed."
"Y/n! Who's at the door?" Bucky's voice calls from inside.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." You call back.
"I- didn't realize you'd have company." Steve mutters.
"Oh I don't. That's-" Before you can explain, Bucky's asking something, now walking over to join you at the front door.
"So who's this unbelievable surprise guest of-" Bucky's hands drop from where they were just about to settle on your waist when he finally glances out your door. "Steve." He says stepping back.
"Told you, you wouldn't believe me." You toss over your shoulder.
"Hey pal. Long time no see." Steve says. You can't tell if he's totally put it together yet but the strain in his voice tells you he at least knows something's changed between you and his best friend.
"I'll say. What happened to growing old with Carter?" Bucky asks, stepping around you to half hug Steve and offer a shoulder pat.
"I realized that- wasn't the life I wanted. I mean it was once upon a time but, not anymore. Things have changed." Steve shrugs.
"I see." Bucky nods.
"Well, Steve you're welcome to stay here with us while you- get back on your feet in the 21st century! Right Buck? Or I can send you over to Sam, he's back in Louisiana with family right now but I'm sure he'd love to see you too." You say.
"Oh, yeah, we can set him up in the extra room although- your art stuff is in there, did you want me to move it into my office or should I put it in your room?" Bucky hums.
"Do you have space in your office? Cuz I definitely can set it up in my room-"
"There's tons of space in my office." Bucky shrugs before you can finish. Steve clears his throat and you turn your attention back to him.
"Sorry to interrupt your- logistical discussion about all this, I j- I didn't realize you two were living together." Steve says.
"It's been two years. Like you said, things have changed." You say.
"You haven't told him?" Bucky looks at you.
"Well in my defense I was about to when you walked over here and the conversation kinda pivoted." You say.
"Okay well, do you want to do it or should I?" Bucky asks.
"I mean I don't want to but- it should be me, yeah." You mutter.
"Okay, can we stop doing this sidebar thing you guys are doing? Tell me- what exactly?" Steve asks. Bucky's hand settles comfortingly against your back, it's out of Steve's line of sight and you appreciate it greatly.
"Bucky- Bucky's my partner." You say.
"In the- you go on missions together sense or the 'my girlfriend is dating my best friend' sense?" Steve asks.
"It's been two years Steve-"
"So you replace me with my closest friend?"
"No. I moved on and yeah it was with Bucky but that was by chance it wasn't about you at all. Don't make it personal."
"You just happen to move on with my best bud? It feels pretty personal." He scoffs.
"Okay! Let's settle down. Steve, if you're gonna take our offer to stay I will show you to your room. Nat has some of your things at her place, the rest of it is in a storage unit. I'll take you down after." Bucky interrupts the would-be argument by changing the subject. You step out of the doorway to let Steve walk in as Bucky tugs him along.
"Why are my things at Nat's?" Steve asks.
"Well some of the more valuable things y/n held onto for a while but when she didn't want to keep them around here anymore we gave them to Nat to look after until we came up with a better plan since we didn't wanna leave them in a storage unit we'd barely go to." Bucky explains as the pair walk further into the house. You can't hear Steve's reply as you walk into the kitchen to regroup. Letting him stay here is going to make shit so weird. You sigh to yourself, with any luck he'll get on his feet pretty quickly and this will only last a couple of months. You can do a couple of months.
The first few weeks are, tense. You're not sure if Bucky is as aware of it as you are but your house is awkward and quiet most hours since Steve showed up. It's like most of your routines have been disrupted and you're not sure which ones are best left for after he's gone. Right now you're on your balcony with a cup of tea. When you glance over the ledge, you see Steve trudging into view. You watch curiously to figure out what he's doing, not even realizing Bucky's snuck up behind you until his arms settle around your waist.
"Penny for your thoughts my darling?" Bucky asks.
"Things are weird. Maybe I shouldn't have offered to let him stay here." You frown.
"Don't be silly. You wouldn't be you if you hadn't offered." Bucky chuckles.
"Sure but- now I'm worried I've put us- put you in an uncomfortable situation." Bucky spins you around to face him. His hand comes up to the side of your face, fingers grazing your cheek softly.
"I'm fine. Are you uncomfortable with him being here? Because I can suggest he spend some time checking in with the others if you'd-"
"No, I don't want to kick him out. I just- I don't want you to lose him because of me." You say taking his hand in yours kiss his knuckles.
"If 70 years and Russian brainwashing couldn't destroy our friendship I think we can make it past this." Bucky winks at you. You glance over the balcony again in time to see Steve toss some wood at a growing pile.
"What is he doing? Why is he piling wood?" Your eyebrows scrunch up.
"You can just ask him you know." Bucky muses.
"It's not harming anyone. I don't need to know." You shake your head.
"You wanna ask don't you?"
"It's just strange." You say fighting a smile.
"Just ask." Bucky laughs leaving you to your tea on the balcony. A moment later you let your curiosity get the better of you and lean against the metal railing of the balcony.
"Steve hon, what on earth are you doing?" You ask him.
"A tree fell, so- I'm breaking it down into firewood."
"Stevie it's August, we're not using the fireplace." You shake your head with a laugh.
"Better safe than sorry." He shrugs.
"You must be incredibly bored." You muse.
"No, I just like to be prepared." He says. "Alright, I'm a little bored." He adds with a sigh after a moment.
"Well if you need something to do- I was catching up with Nat the other day, she said a couple of the tenants in her building moved out for whatever reason, you should talk to her about applying." You tell him.
"I'll give her a call." He squints up at you.
"Good." You nod heading back into the apartment. That's honestly the longest conversation you've had since the day he moved in. Usually, you spend all day avoiding him- or he spends all day avoiding you- you're not sure but you don't speak really, except you make a point to ask him about dinner, if he has plans, or if he'd like to join you and Bucky. You're a good host, but you don't talk to each other much. Not that you expect any different, you were together for six years and he up and left but he's back now- and things are not what he thought they'd be. What else could be said honestly?
You actually don't mind the silence between you two, because the day Steve decides to break that pattern brings forth the worst conversation. The type you've been dreading since the moment he appeared at your door. You're cleaning around the apartment and Steve offered to help, first you worked in silence, just the music from your speaker filling the air until a particular song came on. One you played for Steve once that he immediately fell in love with. It became your song. You only recently stopped associating the song with him but you forgot it was in this playlist otherwise you would've picked another one.
"You still listen to this song?" Steve asks. You keep your back turned to him as you wipe down the coffee table.
"Of course I do. I knew the song before- it was, ours." You say.
"This is the first time I've heard it in a while." He muses.
"Duh the song didn't exist until the 2010s." You scoff.
"Yeah I guess that's- that's true. It's strange though, that awareness of what's to come."
"Yeah that's why most of sci fi warns you not to go time jumping."
"You clean with different products now." Steve points out. You're not sure what he's trying to do here but you are in no mood to dance around awkwardness with him.
"Scented products are easier for Bucky. He says plain bleach  smells too sterile." You mutter. It's Bucky that buys most of the cleaning products anyway, but he always buys citrus stuff.
"It's not easy, you know, seeing my best friend with the love of my life every day." Steve says after a stretch of silence. At this, you turn to face him, trying to stifle that frustration bubbling inside you.
"You left me. Left us. Not the other way around Steve. You don't get to complain about us having picked up the pieces." You tell him.
"I still love you, that's not something I can just pretend isn't there." He says.
"And I love Bucky." You shrug.
"Not me?"
"It doesn't matter." You shake your head.
"It does."
"If it mattered to you at all you would've never left." You grit out.
"So say it." He says quietly.
"What?"
"Tell me you don't love me."
"Steve-"
"Say it. If what we had is truly all in the past for you tell me you don't love me. That there's no place in your heart for me and- I'll move on."
"This isn't fair." You shake your head.
"No?"
"No! You got the life with Peggy that you thought you wanted. You abandoned me. Now you're asking me to choose you when you didn't choose me. How can you expect me to do that?"
"I'm choosing you now!"
"And I've chosen Bucky. I wanted the world with you. All you had to do was come back to me. And you didn't. It's too late now Steve. You needed to choose me two years ago."
"You still haven't said-"
"I don't love you. That's what you want to hear? You lost me the day you chose not to come back. I shouldn't have to spell it out for you. I chose Bucky, yes. But you-" Deep breath. "If you can't handle me and Bucky together in our home then- maybe you should go stay with Sam or Natasha." You say. You're not going to argue with him.
"Are you kicking me out?"
"I'm offering you an alternative- because, I will not be choosing you. Not now, not ever again, you had your chance and if you can't come to terms with that, if it's too difficult to be around reminders that you fucked up and I kept living life without you then by all means don't destroy your mental health staying here. You have other friends."
"How can you expect me to just- pretend what we had means nothing? How can you pretend it means nothing?"
"I'm not asking you to pretend shit. I also am not pretending it means nothing I'm just aware of the reality that it's over and that's something you need to come to terms with because you left and Bucky made me feel alive again when your leaving nearly killed me. It's been two years, did you think I would simply be waiting indefinitely for you to decide I was worth something to you again?"
"Wait a second you have always been worth something to me. You've always been worth everything." Steve frowns.
"You don't get to say that! You don't abandon people that are 'worth everything' to you. You chose someone else and that's a choice you have to live with." You say, your finger practically in his face. The sound of the apartment door opening disrupts your anger enough that you step back.
"Hey guys- did I miss something?" Bucky frowns looking between you two even though you've already stopped back over to the coffee table. Bucky's quick to come to your side, scanning your face for any clues as to what's going on, although he heard the last bit of what you said as he was coming down the hall. "Baby?" He coaxes gently, his fingers stroking against your side.
"I'm gonna go to Sam's for a little while." Steve grits out.
"Feel free to stay there." You clip before you can stop yourself. Steve's footfalls pause for a moment at your words but he doesn't respond before eventually he trudges out the front door.
"Feel free to stay there?! What... happened while I was out?" Bucky asks with a disbelieving chuckle.
"He has... a lot of nerve." You force out through clenched teeth.
"You're gonna have to give me more details than that so I can understand what's wrong doll."
"He just told me how hard it is to watch his best friend with the 'love of his life' every day. The love of his life that he left to be with a woman that lived and died without him. He asked me to choose him. Because after two years I'm supposed to still love the man that left me. Because it's not enough that he almost destroyed me the last time. Because for some reason he thinks I'd rather be picked two years too late."
"He's hurting."
"Yeah well, so was I. Two years ago. He'll live. I did." You shrug. Bucky pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head as he gently sways you both back and forth. You lived through hell that day you realized Steve chose a life with Peggy. You'd be damned if you ever let that happen again.
***
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apocalypseornaw · 2 months
Text
Us Again
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Sam Winchester x Reader
Needing help on a case you're forced to call in the Winchesters. You never thought it'd end with you and Sam finding your way back together.
It's like 90% smut
The solid wall connecting with your back knocked every ounce of breath from your lungs. You groaned and rolled onto your hands and knees, struggling to get air. You heard Sam and Dean both shout your name and saw the creature moving towards you. You grabbed your discarded machete and pushed yourself to your feet, eyes on the monster you yelled “GET THE KIDS. I GOT THIS”
This thing was something new, none of you had run across it which was why you'd called the Winchesters in to begin with. It was taking kids, feeding off their youth. You were hoping decapitation would do the trick. You flipped the long blade in your hand and waved a hand at it “C'mon then ugly. I don't got all night”
 
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You winced a bit as you followed Dean into the door of their hotel room. Yours was adjoining and you'd left the door unlocked between your rooms. Dean eyed you as he dug a first aid kit out considering he'd gotten a slice across the arm and Sam had gotten caught across his left shoulder.
“How ya feeling?” He asked and you nodded “Right as rain Winchester. Now sit down and let me see about that arm” you glanced back at Sam “and I need to check your shoulder too” Sam gave a sharp nod, lowering himself into a chair at the table opposite Dean. 
—-----------------
You hadn't wanted to call them in, years had passed since you hunted with them. The last time had been about a year after you and Sam broke up. You could feel his gaze on your back as you began cleaning the wound on Dean's arm. It wasn't too awfully deep but it might do for a stitch or two just to make sure it stayed closed. 
You busied yourself with the task at hand in an attempt to ignore the memories flashing through your mind. You still loved Sam just as much as the day you'd left but you couldn't tell him that. Too much time and too much pain had passed. The two of you had only recently gotten back to the point of talking as friends. You couldn't risk losing him again or Dean for that matter because regardless of how close you were with the eldest Winchester he'd choose his brother every time.
You finished Dean's stitches and taped over it so he could shower then stepped back from him “All done” he nodded, his eyes flickering between you and Sam. The question was clear in his eyes so you gave him a small nod before turning to face Sam “Ok, um you're gonna have to take your shirt off for me to check that shoulder” 
He met your eyes for a second then cleared his throat and looked away before standing to take off his flannel then slipped his shirt over his head. It had been a while since you saw Sam shirtless and christ he'd put on more muscle than before not that he was lacking then. You had to mentally kick yourself to not stare at his chest. 
He sat back down, turning the chair so you could get to his shoulder. You cut your eyes at Dean and he was watching the two of you with something near amusement written across his face. Damn him shouldn't he be playing the protective brother at least? You and Sam had broken each other's hearts at one time. 
—---------
You gingerly touched the area of Sam's shoulder that was sliced. It was deeper than Dean's but should only take a couple stitches. “Just sit still, I need to clean it” you nearly whispered before grabbing the wound cleaner. 
Sam sat silently as you cleaned his cut. The feeling of your hands on his skin was nearly overwhelming. He was glad Dean had stayed in the room because this entire hunt had been hell on his psyche, from the moment you called for help he knew it would be. The kids you all hadn't been able to save, the new creature that needed to be added to the lore, the way he felt seeing you get tossed to how he now felt with you bandaging him up like old times except now you wouldn't kiss the area after bandaging it.
“You ok?” You asked once you started stitching him. He nodded “Yeah, I'm good” he felt when you snipped off the thread and taped over it like you had Dean's. The fingers of your right hand lightly teased through the hair at the nape of his neck and he sucked in a harsh breath at the familiarity that wracked through him. Fuck he missed you.
—----------
You weren't sure what had driven you to run your fingers through Sam's hair but it was almost as if your body had run on muscle memory alone. You'd heard the way his breath caught and your knees had weakened. You needed to get a shower and go to bed so you could hit the road bright and early.
“You can um put your shirt back on if you want” you spoke then began packing up the first aid kit. Before you could finish Dean's hands covered yours “Uh uh sweetheart. You took a hard hit one of us needs to check you over” you met his eyes and saw the unspoken challenge there. 
Either you put you and Dean both in an awkward position by having to take your shirt off in front of him or you ask Sam to check you. “I'm fine Dean” he raised an eyebrow then leaned up to speak around you “Sammy why don't you go in her room with her and check her back out. If something seems broke holler for me but I think it's better you do it since you have seen her naked after all” 
“You're as subtle as a heart attack” you mumbled then looked back at Sam who seemed determined to look anywhere but at you “I'm fine Sam really” he finally raised his eyes to you “Are you afraid your boyfriend may find out?” 
You felt your face warm at his words. You and Marcel had broken up nearly a year ago. You hadn't loved him, hell you hadn't loved anyone since Sam. Marcel and you were still friends even if when the two of you broke up his reasoning had been “Baby you never got your heart back from Sam. I can't compete”
“I haven't had a boyfriend in a very long time, Sam. You want to check me out and confirm what I already know, come on then” you grabbed the first aid kit and turned on your heel. Before you made it into your room Sam was catching the door.
—---------
“Go!” Dean urged Sam, who nearly jumped out of the chair, to follow you. You were single? Why had you broken up with Marcel? You'd seemed happy with him.
He followed you into your room and watched you slam the first aid kit down on the table then start to strip your jacket off. He shut the door behind himself then was acutely aware of your actions when you slipped your shirt over your head and stood facing him clothed in just your jeans and a dark green sports bra. It took everything he had to not let his eyes graze over your body. 
“Sam? Are you gonna touch me or stare?” You asked after a moment and he knew he had blushed lightly. He hadn't touched your skin in a very very long time and wanted nothing more than to but the thought of touching you only to see if you were hurt then the two of you going separate ways come morning hurt. 
“Yeah, sorry” he said and you turned with your back to him, moving your hair out the way. Purple bruises had formed across your back already so he started at the nape of your neck with intentions to work down, checking everything.
—-----------------
Sam's rough fingertips started at the nape of your neck. His thumbs worked the base of your neck, feeling for any cracks and effectively massaging the sore muscles there. Your eyes fluttered shut and you bit down on the inside of your cheek to not moan.
Damn him he knew your body so well even after this long. He worked down further, kneading the flesh and checking across your ribs and spine to ensure nothing was broken, asking every now and then if anything hurt.
When he reached the top of your jeans he tapped your hip “Everything looks good” you swallowed hard twice before turning to face him “Told ya” 
His eyes went from your face down to your chest and the realization you were still in just your bra hit you “Guess on that note I'm gonna shower” he nodded “Ok” neither of you moved, frozen to the spot.
—----------------
“Sam” you spoke his name in nearly a whisper and the next moment your lips were crashing against his. You were sure who initiated it but his hands went to your hips pulling you flush against him as your hands slipped around his neck pulling him down closer to you. 
When you broke away to catch your breath the two of you stared at each other, chests heaving “Tell me you don't want this. Tell me to walk away” his voice was deep with lust and made your stomach do a flip “No” you replied pulling him back to you.
He groaned into the kiss before picking you up in one fluid motion. His hands hooked under your thighs so you wrapped your legs around his waist grinding down against him. He carried you over to the bed and laid you down gently before slipping his shirt back over his head and tossing it.
You worked to kick your boots off as he did the same. Once you were both down to jeans he climbed onto the bed hovering over you as he claimed your lips in a bruising kiss. You barely remembered his injured shoulder as you clung to him, wanting him as close as possible.  You loved this man with everything you had, you'd left because he couldn't say he loved you and it hurt too much but being away from him for so long had hurt too so you decided to give yourself this.
He moved from your lips, kissing down your jaw then to your neck when he sucked on your pulse point hard enough to mark you your back arched off the bed pressing your breasts into his toned chest. His hand touched your bra and he glanced up at you for permission. You smiled and pulled it up and over your head, baring your chest to him. 
He lowered his mouth to your left breast, rolling the nipple between his teeth and you moaned loudly. His right hand came up to knead the other breast, the action pulling another moan from you.  He knew you too well. His mouth, the size of his hands, the tickle of his hair against your skin. Everything had your nerves in overdrive. 
He released your breast then kissed down your stomach, stopping at the top of your jeans. “Tell me you want me” He spoke against your skin, eyes holding yours. “I want you” you whispered and his eyes shut for a moment and you saw him swallow hard before he nodded to himself. When his eyes opened there was that same hunger there but mixed with a need you felt in your soul. 
He made quick work of your jeans and panties before continuing his path. When his tongue barely grazed your clit your fingers flew to his hair tangling themselves in it. 
—---------------
Sam wasn't sure what was sweeter, your taste or the sounds falling from your lips. He knew what it took to push you over that edge and enjoyed feeling your body shake and you came on his tongue. He worked you through it until you pushed his head away. He leaned back from you, slipping a finger into you to replace his tongue. You clenched hard around his fingers, cursing lightly when he added a second and curled them up to hit that spot inside of you that he knew would have you seeing stars.
Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, the sound of his name being moaned from you was everything. He could feel when you were close right before you came, soaking his fingers and the bed under you. When he pulled his fingers out he held your gaze and he slipped them into his mouth, licking them clean.
“Sam, take your fucking jeans off please” you begged and he could feel his cock twitch at your words. He stood up and slipped his jeans and boxers off. Your eyes trailed down his body and he saw you lick your lips “I want to return the favor but fuck I need you inside me”
—---------- 
He groaned at your words “I need to be inside you” he replied climbing back up your body. When he reached your lips you pulled him into a kiss, rolling your tongue against his, tasting yourself on him. When you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance you clenched. He eased into you, both of you moaning at the sensation “Fuck you're so damn big Sam”
He buried his face in the bend of your neck, laughing lightly against your skin “I'd say sorry but I'm not” after a moment the pain of the stretch gave way to pleasure. You rolled your hips up to meet his and he groaned “Fuck baby” you smiled when he looked up at your face “I've missed hearing you call me that” he grinned before leaving a rough kiss on your lips “Hold onto me baby. I want to feel that pretty little pussy come around me” 
—-------------
The only sounds in the room were skin meeting skin and both of your needy moans. Your nails dug into his forearms as he drove into you from behind. You were on your stomach, pillows under your hips to give him just the right angle as he drove into you. He'd already made you come too many times to count. You were breathless and could feel your body shaking but you were taking everything he had to give. 
His thrusts were starting to falter and you knew he was close. Sam had always had a remarkable stamina and the ability to hold his own release in favor of pleasuring his partner but you needed to feel him come, to have him fill you completely. “fuck Sam. Please tell me you're close” you sounded wrecked, completely fucked out. 
He moved the hair from your neck, kissing your pulse point “getting tired baby?” You nodded “I need to feel you please” he groaned at your words his thrusts getting harder and harder “Fuck I've missed you…I love you baby fuck I love you”
Before you had time to realize what he said he buried himself deep inside of you, coating your walls as he came. The feeling pushed you over that edge one last time. You knew every muscle in your lower body would be jello. When he pulled out you gasped from the sudden feeling of emptiness. 
He kissed your shoulder “Gonna clean you up” you felt the bed dip as he stood up. A moment later he was back and you felt a warm washcloth between your legs. Once he was sure you were cleaned he discarded the rag and helped you turn onto your side. 
He laid down next to you, pulling you over on his chest “Need anything?” He asked and you shook your head sleepily. “Just sleep” he chuckled and kissed your forehead “Get some sleep darling. I'm right here” 
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The first thing you felt when you woke was the delicious soreness throughout your body. Christ, you'd forgotten Sam's stamina. You moved around but felt a strong arm tighten around you. Memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Had Sam meant it when he told you he loved you? 
As if your thoughts got too loud he stirred behind you so you turned in his arms to face him. The uncertainty on his face seemed out of place after how he'd fucked you the night before “Why'd you leave me?” He asked and you sighed “I thought you didn't love me. You would never tell me you did and after a while that wears on you”
He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them the sadness hurt your heart “I've always loved you just after Jess I was just so afraid to lose someone again” “I never wanted to force you into anything” he nodded then smiled “I meant it last night. I love you, I've always loved you and always will. If you give this a second chance I promise you'll never doubt my feelings again. You're it for me. My heart is solely yours” 
You were silent for a moment then smiled “on one condition” he nodded “anything” “You always talk to me about what's going on in your head, you trust that I can take care of myself and if I get hurt you try not to blame yourself”  “Deal” you nodded “In that case kiss me” “Yes ma'am” he laughed before pulling you into a kiss.
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audisive · 8 days
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♪ MILLION DOLLAR MAN. (💌)
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: you need a bodyguard, and simon's the only one you can trust. for now.
tags: fluff, angst (ish), hurt/comfort, romance, soft!simon, bodyguard!ghost, model!reader, trust issues, hints to a panic attack, you have a bad dad (and family)
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        There's an ugly yellow folder on your vanity, sticking out like a sore thumb.
That's the first thing you see.
There's a hitch in your breath before you speak. "Vel," you walk over to your desk and call out to the lovely girl with your coat over her arm, your favorite maid. "What's this?" With manicured nails, you pick up the folder cautiously with the feeling of familiarity and déjà vu.
Veliana tilts her head to the side, the clueless little bird she is. "A folder, miss." You huff a smile out at her simple response, the pretty little thing never knowing better. "Please give Noah a call." You tell her and she nods her head automatically, still smiling at you.
When she carefully places your coat on the rack, she scurries off to who knows where. You're left in the comforts of your too-large room, a delicate piece of work that you'd paid thousands of dollars for after your face had snatched the interests of magazines, reporters, and such. You find that there are even uglier men inside when you open the flimsy thing in your hand.
Veliana is breathless when she comes back to you like the obedient girl she is, handing over the phone with your manager's name on it.
"What's wrong, darling girl?" Noah asks, annoyance seeping into his tone despite the usual pet name. "What's with the profiles?" you question right back, flipping through the folders, carefully scanning each gruesome man with horrifying detail. You already know the answer, but you dread it.
"About time you actually considered my suggestion," he voices out. "You need a new bodyguard."
  You find that your new bodyguard is just as noticeable as the folder you threw away without much thought. There's people staring at him when they would be gawking at you. 
Simon Riley is a trusted man; at least that's what you try to tell your manager. A remarkable 6'4 military man who should be off in a bar with beer – he drinks whiskey, imbecile – or resting in a broke-down apartment, not babysitting his model of a friend. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded it if he acted just a little annoyed at you, but he doesn't even spare you so much as a glare. You're not sure if you should be glad or not.
You have to admit that you do feel a little smug when your manager avoids yelling at you with Simon glaring daggers at him. Then again, there's this anxious feeling pooling at your stomach when he gets a little too close. He's certainly scarier than the last one.
His large hand calms you down when it lands on your lower back and sneaks his warmth through your thin clothing. You let out a breath, as if he'd just commanded you to do so without a word.
  Simon should be in his awfully empty apartment, sleeping the day off or making a small trip to the groceries for necessities fresh out of deployment. But when he opened the door to you, who's clearly so troubled and almost begging to help you out with.. whatever it was you asked, how could he say no? 
"It's just temporary, I swear. I just need some time to do a proper background check on the other bodyguards."
Given that your shitty father's in jail with unfinished as well as illegal business, it wouldn't be proper of him to let a civilian walk around with danger right at her back. That's what he says to himself, anyway.
He's just not so sure he signed up for the right job as a bodyguard. Truth be told, he would've preferred to be your boyfriend.. but as long as he has rights to protect you, then he won't complain.
He's well aware of the men coming for your neck for a variety of reasons. Some out of jealousy – Simon thinks that the fashion industry might as well be a warzone. Maybe that's why he accepted this in the first place – and some because of your problematic family.
He's also heard about your past cowardly bodyguards, if you can even call them that after they'd left you in the face of death. It's a wonder how you're still alive, but he wouldn't dare question it.
It doesn't help, not really, when there's an ear-deafeaning explosion and a panicked angel in his arms, clutching onto him for dear life. "Simon," you all but whimper, labored breaths and uncontrollable tears slipping out of you.
He hushes you, coos at you as sweet as he possibly can. He soothes you and cradles you against his chest as he shoots back at death and carries you to safety when the storm of chaos calms. And he never leaves. Not once.
Not even when you're well and sitting on the cold bed of an even colder hospital room. You'd begged him to stay and lay with you, and when he does, you insist that you owe him your life, and he tells you he's just doing his job.
Still, you can't help that you push yourself closer to him. "Thank you," you whisper, "for staying."
"'M yours to keep." Simon gruffs out, "my loyalty and life belongs to you. All of it." And so does his heart.
(bodyguard!ghost is just modern knight!ghost to me :3c)
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        divider by @cafekitsune !
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anantaru · 6 months
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DAY 25 — ORGASM DENIAL
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — diluc, lyney, albedo, thoma
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, orgasm denial, a little bratty reader, oral (fem! receiving), nipple play, meanies!!
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𖧡 — DILUC
like an armored plate secured around your thudding chest, diluc's complete body pressed against your own was like pins and needles stinging your skin, from the emitting warmth on your frame when he was so protective of you— even in your most vulnerable and raw moments, diluc cannot not look out for your comfort, because when he kisses you, decides to press his lips against your soft ones, the heaven sighs out loud and circuits a comforting breeze over your bodies, holding you close when he calls you his sweet darling or his angel girl.
up to now, at least, because tell me, what were to happen if you, all at once, decided to act out of place a little and unintentionally place him into a quite disgruntled premonition— so that you're at present, tightly strapped down against the large bed, a piece of his trace wearing down another orgasm for too long, before urging the shaped knot in your stomach to dissolve entirely— which felt like every nerve in your body was snapping into pieces due to both utter frustration and helplessness.
"you just never know when to stop, do you?" diluc mutters out lowly and fuck, voice was sounded so desperate it made you clench down around nothing but air.
remember, diluc ragnvindr wasn't one to play with, not even you could get away with it— beyond everything, it was plainly impossible to play with fire and not burn yourself, especially when the fire in question, wasn't just a small light, but the hand manifesting it in the first place. it's subdued, at first, when diluc gently presses his lips on top of your searing folds that were yearning for his intoxicating touch, your body thoroughly fatigued, the loss of two whole orgasms he ripped off you were showing across your your whole body as your hands clench in the sheets.
all things considering, it's a bit hot if you were being honest, especially how riled up diluc seemed to have gotten from nothing more than your pretty pussy plastered all over his darling face, eagerly dragging his tongue over the hypersensitive rawness of your skin as you're arching into the touch with ease, as if trying to force diluc to go further with you and please please make you cum while he's at it— instead, you're being met with his lips abruptly leaving your hot sex again, your hips stilling immediately and shuddering before he grinds one thumb into your inflamed cunt, and this time you thought you we're on the brink of passing out, it's too much and your noises were trailing off into another heavy sob as he just repeats himself, over and over again.
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𖧡 — LYNEY
"ah, ah, ah," your bare and exposed body shudders at the piercing sensation of teeth and tongue lapping across your erected nipples as lyney buries himself in between the precious mounds— and you're fighting to adjust to the rapidness of his traces, noticing how your chest was beginning to grow numb and it just wouldn't get better, only turn worse if your boyfriend wouldn't just stop his devil like performance on you.
lyney continues to work his tongue on you, the tip of it, just the tip, and remember that the only attention you were getting tonight, was on your breasts— he wouldn't touch you otherwise and if the reason was due to your past wrong doings or snarky remarks from earlier, or perhaps due to the fact that lyney had a secret liking towards turning you into a breathless mess, all things considered it might be a mixture of the two of them.
"right there.." he muses, sucking at the nipple before holding his breath in and hollowing his cheeks, fervid, wet sucks and his canines imprisoning your simmering nipple in a tight, ardent circle pushed deep in between his smooth lips. you're catching your breath at this, and the mild pain was stretching through the soreness on your chest before moving down to your wet core.
your tear soaked eyes hinder your ability to keep a normal field of vision as you bury your hands against lyney's soft hair, "please please please, fuck me," you beg, cry and toss your head back before jolting your hips up into his painfully hard erection, your knees spread as wide as you could possibly get them, craving some attention as well.
without this actually happening for a while, you were aware that lyney had just started performing, playing out his masqueraded show, and naturally— he wouldn't want to cut the fun too short for you, you do understand that your climax will only taste better that way, don't you?
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𖧡 — ALBEDO
"not yet," the warm breath expelled by albedo brushes over your flustered cheeks before he continues his sentence to you— although with his voice an octave darker, the lingering shadow above his eyes even more difficult to discern, "i told you, not yet."
your boyfriend's body never felt warm like you did, or how a human did in general, and although his skin was gentle and soft, the trace of him was freezing instead, a perfect contrast to you and ultimately serving in a way to conquer the ever growing hotness covering the curves and slopes of your beautiful body.
his cock just hit something inside you just right, and that, along with the words, his slight possessiveness and the power albedo held over your body only fueled your excitement to this, adding to the thrill of being split open and played with— of course, your body was only able to hold onto as much as it could, and after another orgasm ripped away from your strong hold, you writhe and shake from hypersensitivity before goosebumps arose all over your juddering skin.
but you were his, his tomorrow, his tonight— his, his, his, his darling love, forever yet even someone as patient as albedo was, needed to show you how it really was sometimes, it being obedience and the obvious chain reactions that would occur after you would dare to tease him, day and night, before leaving him painfully throbbing right after.
he slumps into you, dropping both of your bodies against the mattress as he snaps his hips forward, your cunt by now slicked up with arousal that had long since dried up around the insides of your thighs and your puffy folds— and it's truly filthy, that's what it was, but what's even worse was the fact that the growing pain and ache in your cunt wouldn't even dissolve just a little bit, your legs squeezing his moving sides as if trying to pull albedo deeper into your warm, yearning pussy, to somewhat change his mind. 
you cry out, toss your head back and scream when he rolls his erection into you expertly, your skin itching and your cunt throbbing with the need to cum as you're unable to move from underneath him, the sinful mix of pleasure and pain pulling your nerves taut and fatigued.
but albedo will not stop himself, never, only pressing his fingertips into your hips deeper before drawing himself off your cunt entirely, his tip leaking of clear pre and leaving you empty behind, more so frustrated although ready to go for yet another round.
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𖧡 — THOMA
you're being pushed against the bed before falling onto your elbows— and naturally thoma was quick to follow, immediately hauled up over you with one arm holding his stability, "look at me."  he says, voice low and holding the pressuring breeze inside the room in a tight grasp before he lets his hands roam freely over your body.
and before you know it, you feel the thickness swell inside of your walls gushing over his girth, then perceive a bristling spasm when thoma cocks a brow at you— believing he found the dizzy splotches on your walls, becoming faster, needier, hitting that special spot that shot a torrent of fire over the swathe of your spine.
but something was different tonight because whenever the man noticed how your noises were picking up, becoming faster, needier and breathless— thoma abruptly changes up his sinful pace, pushing himself off you while leaving the tip in, then thrust again, slow and steady, all the way inside.
you pant, sob and whine whilst feeling trapped, and before your body was even half way through adjusting to the newfound speed of his hips guiding his cock over your hot walls, you're being accompanied by another, much more torturous velocity from him.
 "if you weren't so mean at times, i'd be a whole lot nicer tonight," he groans out, and it's safe to say that something was desperately pissing him off— yet instead of voicing it out loud, the heat and tension of the moment took over him as he slants himself over your body before snapping his hips forward, your tits bouncing due to the force of his shoves jutting into you.
and you moan out desperately, scratching over the flexed muscles of his biceps to brace yourself, uncaring of the sound and winces you made, especially careless over the people who might pick up on the noisy commotion coming from inside.
thoroughly fucked out, you look straight up the ceiling whilst being pounded into literal oblivion, his cock hard and heavy inside your walls as you pityfully whine at thoma, gasping out loud with your arms clawing at every new thrust reaching your exposed sweet spots— helplessly trembling and unable to suffocate the ache on the burning inside your thighs, the constant teasing breaking yourself from the very within.
but regardless, receiving his blows with relief and hoping that thoma would make you cum at least for once tonight.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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mrpenguinpants · 1 year
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Overdue Bills
— He knows your fake relationship with him was made purely for beneficial reasons. After everything was said and done, you both went your separate ways. So why does he keep coming back to you?
— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha
-> Part 1: Please go out with me for tax benefits! -> Not connected but can also be read: I refuse to fall in love out of spite [ TBA ] [Masterlist]
Does this feel rushed because it is. I assumed everyone wanted a continuation but I plan on writing another fic using the original prompt but for different characters. The titles have nothing to do with the fics but I really wanted to title this, we've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty.
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Alhaitham
There's only so much Kaveh can handle before he hits a breaking point and this might be it. A few months ago he overheard the librarian ask a stranger how their boyfriend Alhaitham was doing, to which he nearly broke his neck in how fast he turned. From the long pause and the plain answer of, "he's fine", which Alhaitham most definitely isn't given how much work the sages are dumping onto their scribe, Kaveh came to the conclusion that you're another creepy admirer or an attention-seeking leech. While Kaveh wouldn't call Alhaitham something as close as a friend, the man at least deserved to know there was another deranged person spreading lies. He assumed Alhaitham would confront you, knock some sense into you, and that would be the end of it. But because Alhaitham operates on a level that's incomprehensible to Kaveh, instead you've both entered into a fake dating relationship that he honestly believes is a horrible idea. But Alhaitham is his roommate, not his friend, and he doesn't have the time or care to facilitate a non-existent love life. But lo and behold the next time he sees you, there's a silver-haired man is hovering nearby looking at you with the closest thing to love his stoic face can make. Things are only weirder when Kaveh brings the sight up to you, saying that you're both taking this fake dating in stride and he's honestly impressed at how Alhaitham really put his all into this performance. Only for you to look at him as if he's grown two heads. You and Alhaitham stopped dating weeks ago.
Alhaitham isn't stupid. There's only so much rationalization he can turn to and so many excuses he can make but at the end of the day, he has to admit that he never works better than he does sitting beside you. At first, he reasoned that it was because people didn't bother him as much and you knew how to be quiet. Perhaps that's why you've skyrocketed in his requirements of friendship despite the fact that you both weren't really friends. But then he couldn't sit alone without getting restless. There’s an empty space beside him that constantly makes itself aware in his subconscious. One that screams at him that he wants you to be there, not just because you can scare people away.
It's a slow realization from there starting with him comparing you and Kaveh. For as much as he and his senior argue back and forth almost every time they meet, Alhaitham considers Kaveh an excellent mirror to him that can push his thoughts to go further. But you're different. That realization turns into contemplation when you actually listen and take his advice. Every scholar is egotistical to some degree, there's a lot of pride to take into your research, and having your weeks of hard work be written off by a blunt statement gets people angry. Alhaitham would be the first to know, he's been on the receiving end of that anger multiple times. Yet when he points out a section in your thesis to be incorrect, you simply tilt your head thinking before agreeing he was right. Crumbling your paper, ready to start all over again without any fuss. Still water versus the wave that Kaveh is. While some would call that boring, he finds it charming.
The nail in the coffin is when he catches himself labeling the chair next to him as yours. He can't justify that one and he's suddenly confronted that he severely underestimated how much he's grown to like you. He originally agreed to the idea to keep his comfortable routine without any interruptions and your introduction would fix his issue of suitors but you've played your part so perfectly that he fell for it. He was tempted to stop talking to you altogether, cutting the deal off entirely and never speaking to you again. But you're not a saint and just as he realized his feelings, your thesis was done and you left abruptly before he had any time to prepare. A glaring empty spot mocking him. Only to come back with your stacks of books and a nervous smile that Alhaitham refuses to acknowledge makes his heart beat just the slightest bit quicker.
He knows you can hear the whispers that you and Alhaitham have gotten back together. Yet you haven't said anything and he politely chooses to not say anything either. The rumors certainly haven't stopped you from acting differently and he doesn't know if that's a good thing. He knows your language is touch but now he wants to be the one near you this time. That way the first person you’ll speak to is him. By now he’s fully aware of his feelings and how far they’ve developed for him to actually start feeling possessive. So the next time you lean against him to show him a particular paragraph of a book, he wraps a hand around your waist, disguising it as him shifting you to the side so he can get a better angle to read. Under his hand, he can feel how tense you become at the casual touch, how your eyes jump from him to the floor, before relaxing and continuing on.
In hindsight, he knows by all rational reasoning he should just confess to you and get it over and done with. But there's something exciting in the way you look at him with calculating eyes that he stares back at unflinching. He thinks of it as payback for you strolling into his carefully planned life and making a mess. He’s simply allowing himself to indulge in it. Now every time you greet him with a wave, he offers a smile. When you want to drag him somewhere by the cape, he slips his hand into yours stating you'll stretch the fabric too much. And when you need to whisper something in his ear? He'll practically be in your lap with how close he leans in even if there's no one else in the room. He knows eventually you'll catch on to what he's trying to do, what he's trying to say. You've been practicing for months sitting beside him. It's finally when he invites you to the pavilion that he can see the realization on your face that Alhaitham clearly doesn't consider you just a friend. The look of bewilderment goes back and forth with suspicion before finally settling into an amused huff with the smallest of smiles.
It's late enough into the day that he knows the only people lingering in the Akademiya are either passed-out students or scholars too wrapped up in their work. All consideration he's taken to make sure you're both uninterrupted for this moment. And what a moment it is. The pavilion itself is beautiful with its blue and green stained glass windows that reflect the evening sun. The yellow flowers swaying gently in the breeze add just enough color to not be irritating. Kaveh might need to retract his statement that Alhaitham doesn't know a thing about romance because it's painfully obvious what's about to happen.
"Any more and people might get the wrong idea you know," you say as you lean against the white wall. The look of confusion is gone from your eyes, replaced with mirth. It does not make him shudder.
"About what? The library is cramped with people and the pavilion is quiet," he says like it's an off-handed comment before turning around, leaning his weight against his elbows on the railing as he turns to the side to look at the view this specific pavilion provides. "Although I can understand where you might have drawn that conclusion. I can assure you nothing like that will happen. You're not my type."
He can physically feel you bristle even though he isn't looking at you before your footsteps come closer and closer until your form is right in front of him. He still refuses to look at you but he can tell the moment you see his poorly hidden smile. He hears you let out an amused huff before you bring your hands up and settle them against the railing as well. Only you've decided to cage him in between your arms and it makes him turn to you, raising a brow. He's already lost the moment he turned but the cheeky grin you have is worth it. You look really cute when you're smug.
"If I had any interest, it would have died a long time ago. You're the worst fake boyfriend I've ever had so I can't imagine how insufferable you'll be as a real one," you shake your head exasperated but there's a small entertained look that tugs at his heart. That you know what he knows and he knows what you know. A similar feeling of understanding that he's gotten so used to. One that lets him act in such an irrational way.
"You've had others?" he asks as his arm comes off the railing to settle around your waist. You don't push him away, easily following along.
"For such a pretty face you have such an awful personality," you sigh disappointed yet the arms that cage him move to settle around his neck, twirling the silver hair at the base of his neck as you lean closer until there isn't space between the two of you.
"Oh? So you think I'm pretty?" He tilts his chin slightly down, his lips brushing against yours.
"You must have selective hearing." With your faces so close, he can see the excitement in your eyes. He's sure that he is the same. So he ignores the pleased look on your face and leans in.
Ayato
Ultimately, he's just a passerby. He decided on a whim to go along with some absurd act because he thought the sheer dread and embarrassment on your face was amusing and he wanted to see more. By all accounts, your temporary date wasn't too bad. It felt a bit refreshing being with someone that looked like they rather throw themselves in the nearby sea than stand next to the refined Yashiro Commissioner. But otherwise, that's the end of your relationship. With a few words here and there, he managed to spin the absurd story into his favor and reign in the disaster your little stunt might have caused. He's grateful that you so easily play along with him. Not a single complaint about how he lies through his teeth that someone was bothering you so he extended his help so this individual would leave you alone. It makes both of you, mostly him, look good. How people rush to make sure you're okay while your expression flickers between guilt and embarrassment is far more entertaining than anything he originally planned during this outing. But at the end of the day, you have nothing to do with each other and he owes you nothing. Your presence is ultimately inconsequential in the stream that is his life. That is until one day your relationship changes to stupidity and heartfelt sincerity.
It starts off as a joke. Ayato tends to latch onto small things that give him a momentary break from his busy and stressed lifestyle and duties. Plus there's something lighthearted about this situation that he doesn't want to let go of just yet. Unfortunately for you, Ayato's newfound joy is sneaking up on you and sending you into an early grave. The first time it was an accident, you just happened to be easily jumpy, but the second time though? The resounding screech of terror never fails to make a smile appear on his face and you're convinced that he's a sadist. He doesn't even have to try that hard, his steps are silent even against the crooked stone path that he can waltz up right behind you. But his absolute favourite part is bending down and whispering what exactly his fiancee is so interested in. It always leads to embarrassing talks of you politely asking him to not refer to you with that title anymore that he swiftly blocks by mentioning that, wasn't it you who called him your fiancee first? You should take responsibility.
He thinks your reactions are cute even if you're a bit vulgar in language, although to him that just adds to the warped sense of charm he finds in you. Thoma nearly chokes on his own spit when Ayato perks up at something behind him, suddenly dropping the calm facade of the Yashiro Commissioner and something more genuine before calling out to a "fiancee". Thoma whips around to see a stranger speaking with Yoimiya before their eyes lift and lock with Ayato's and their expression immediately sour. He doesn't think he's ever seen anyone show such a disgusted expression and he can't help but wonder what his lord has done this time. Before Thoma can say anything the stranger picks up a firework ball and hurls it at his Lord who easily sidesteps the attack, the resounding death threats only making the blue-haired man laugh.
It's fun. You're fun to be around. The entire situation is silly and ridiculous and it feels nice. Ayato had to grow up too fast, become an adult too fast, and shoulder the burden meant for later years. Something as small as a nickname, an inside joke, something he can bring up to spite someone just for the fun of it is nice. Perhaps that's why he refuses to let go and finds himself returning to you.
It's all a joke. There's no way Ayato can actually take your hand in marriage. Not with your differences in status. You think that's the only reason people entertain the idea, why he even entertains the idea. To get a reaction out of you that he can relentlessly tease and it's all so stupid. That is until he receives a different reaction that leaves him lost and confused.
You stumble upon him in the aftermath of another one of his assassination attempts. He was perfectly fine, not even a speck of dust on his white coat yet you were nearly in hysteria. Panicked hiccups as you sob uncontrollably into his chest, your tears doing far more damage to dirtying his clothes than an attempt on his life. He tries his best to console you but you can't seem to stop the tears and as much as he values staying dignified, he's almost at his limit. Hand already poised to yank you off until he falters in both mind and body when you suddenly turn your head up and he sees the expression that you hid away in the lapels of his coat. The feeling of the annoyance of having to wash his coat flew out of his mind at the sight of your teary eyes and downturned lips. A small, very small, part of his heart beats just a bit faster. An even smaller part that was buried under the title of Yashiro Commissioner perks its head over someone who was crying for him. Even though you've both talked multiple times, you and he aren't close enough to be considered friends, at least in his eyes. Yet you're currently looking at him as if you're the one that's been attacked because of the simple fact that he could have been hurt. It's...strange.
He doesn't say anything as you usher him into your home to fix up whatever injuries you happened to have conjured in your mind. He's never stepped foot into your residence and he's honestly glad he hasn't because your home is...disheartening, to say the least. He thinks the estate has more life than what was supposedly something you called home. It's not that your place is poor, you're not sleeping on a slab of rock, but it's empty. Like you don't have anything at all. The only thing you seem to carry is your small pile of books. Worn but well taken care of. So he doesn't say anything as you fuss over him, doesn't say anything about the horrendous first aid kit you bring, and bids you farewell at the door of your home. You smile at him widely and tell him to take care of himself. But when he turns to leave, he risks one last peek at you, just in time to see you close your door. You aren't smiling anymore. He stops walking.
It starts to escalate from there. The following months of sudden change are so abrupt that he has no choice but to follow along. He wants to see every expression you have. If that isn't enough, he'll find new ones for you to make.
Ayato's first impression of you is charming but in a pitiful sort of way. You have to be an airhead, you must be considering your shared first meeting. How you didn't realize your mistake and went along with everything is beyond Ayato. You and Itto are almost on the same level of denseness but while Itto does everything with blind confidence that the situation has changed because of him, you are the opposite. Wandering into your own mess as you ignore all the warning signs until it's too late. But you're also honest and upfront, two traits that Ayato has come to value immensely. He finds you endearing, so much that it's starting to overfill his teacup. So with a silent smile, he asks a question.
"Why don't you become my fiancee?"
The noodle slips between your chopsticks, a loud unflattering splat against the table echoing through the silence as you stare at him slack-jawed. He begins to worry that he's accidentally sent you into a stroke because one of your eyes starts twitching.
"Huh? Are you being for real?" you ask deadpanned. He can't help but chuckle under his fingers before resting his chin on the palm of his hand. It feels nice to be able to rest his elbows against the table without someone reprimanding him for his lack of manners. He finds your dry reaction far cuter than the blushes and swoons from the ladies that the elders forced him to take out.
"Be my fiancee." he pauses before continuing as an afterthought. "For real this time."
You pick up your fallen noodle, chew, swallow, and then point your chopsticks at him. Not convinced in the slightest. "Even if you haven't picked out a fiancee you shouldn't joke about that."
"Really?" he fakes surprise, "Then how come you're on a date with me right now?"
You choke. He pushes his teacup towards you, who takes it and gulps down half of its contents in one go. The glass clinks loudly on the table when you put it down yet it doesn't distract him from the sheer disbelief on your face as your ears grow red. He thinks out of all of the expressions you've given him, he likes this one the most.
"This isn't-It's not," you attempt to say, spluttering the entire time that remnants of the tea you just drank wet your lips.
"Yes, it is. Why? Is it bad? Do you know enjoy being taken out to dinner? I can easily arrange for something else instead," He reached over with a napkin to wipe your face. It only serves to make you more embarrassed that he's treating you like a child as you push his hand away lest you combust on the spot. There's no immediate answer. He can't tell whether you're actually considering his offer, or if you're refraining from throwing your chopsticks at him.
"No thanks. If I've learned anything it's that you'll only torment me until I die. I'm starting to think I like you even less," you grumble, shoving more noodles into your mouth.
Ayato is a strange man so he doesn't wait for the water to spill, just tips the cup over and starts again. This time he waits for you to swallow before saying anything, he doesn't want you to choke again.
"That's unfortunate. I adore you, you know."
Kazuha
While his feelings and words were true, he resigns himself to the fact that your relationship was a one-and-done situation. Impulsiveness isn't one of his qualities but as he reflects on his time with you, he gets a bit flustered at how hard he fell. He had just met you and yet within the span of a couple weeks, you managed to fill out the empty parts of his heart. He tries to rationalize that it was just the timing. He had been on the run for so long, his thoughts always chained around Inazuma, and upholding his promise to his friend. But then you happened to crash into his life, quite literally, and everything slowed to a stop at that moment. Originally it was just to protect you from a clingy admirer but then you started asking about him. What his hobbies were, what kind of dreams he had, and whether or not he would like to learn how to fly. Every day and night sitting beside you on the crow's nest, the gentle sway of the waters rocking the boat, and the backdrop of noise down on the deck was the most serene Kazuha has ever felt since he left Inazuma. But all things must come to an end eventually and even though Kazuha knows that this might be the end, you look so hopefully at him that he can't help but try to push the end to tomorrow. He just needs to garner the strength to move.
Beidou asks if he's sure about his decision to leave the Crux and wander on his own. It's not nice to make you wait even though she knows you and when you say you'll wait, you're going to damn wait no matter how long it takes. But he reassures her that he's still not ready. As much as he wants to run over the water back to Liyue, he doesn't want to bring along conflicted and aimless feelings. But he will hurry, he's been running for so long, he can run a little further for something and someone for himself. It's a bit selfish but Beidou gives him an exasperated soft smile that lets him know it's not a bad thing. Although with each passing day Beidou's ship ports, it gets harder and harder for her to break the news that Kazuha is still not back. Beidou does her best to reassure you that Kazuha isn't stringing you along, she would have drowned him in the ocean if he was that low of a guy, but she can tell that with each visit your expression grows more and more distant. Watching how you're the first one to rush down the wooden bridges with a hopeful expression that one-day Kazuha might be there only to leave with a sad smile. It makes her want to track her problem child down and bring him back to you. Not that she has any idea where he wandered too.
He ends up in the forests of Sumeru. His keen sense of smell aids him as he treks through the wilderness until he meets a strange forest watcher and a girl in green. Their a bit of an odd pair but so is Kazuha and they become fast friends. Apparently, his calm demeanor is a breath of fresh air and it's enough that they don't pry into his history. Although there are moments when he can feel their eyes on him. Perhaps living in the forest has led them both to be aware of subtle changes far better than Kazuha can smell. It starts when they trek towards the small lakes and waterbeds to gather niloptala lotus for Tighnari that he sees it. An anemone flower. Soft white petals with a dark blue center sway in the breeze as he stands watching it move. It's Collei who approaches him and explains white anemone flowers, also known as windflowers, symbolize sincerity due to their delicate appearance. According to mythology, the anemone flower was created when Aphrodite's mortal lover, Adonis, was killed and from the spot where her tears fell to the ground, an anemone emerged. She says that he might enjoy that last bit of information to use as inspiration for his many haiku poems because he's looking at the flower as if he's fallen in love. Although she warns him that when fresh, all parts are poisonous.
When Inazuma finally calmed down and Thoma informed him that he was no longer a wanted man, it was the second time Kazuha could take a deep breath and relax. He was free from running and could focus on the future. He won't lie and say that his thoughts didn't stray back to you every night. He's been gone for months and he wonders if you still remember what he looks like. But now he has to ask himself the hard question if he's ready to see you. Unfortunately, he doesn't get to make that choice.
He sees you at Port Ormos by chance, speaking to a silver-haired man before you cut yourself off mid-sentence as your eyes lock onto his. Even with everything Kazuha has been through, he feels scared. He knew he would eventually return to you but now that you're here, is he not ready? Or is he scared? He knew that asking for you to wait was selfish, that one day he may return with your hand in someone else's. Maybe that's why you're all the way in Sumeru rather than the high mountains of Liyue. All these emotions reflect back to you and he can see it, your fists are trembling even as you gaze back at him with conviction and determination. The sun shines right behind you, creating a gold halo over your tousled hair. But it makes the shadows of your strained expression darker, your eyes gloss over your jaw tense, and everything about your posture screams please don't disappoint me Kazuha. Then it's gone. Your attention back to the silver hair man, pretending as if nothing happened. You'll wait until he's ready but you won't acknowledge him when he's not. And Kazuha. Kazuha runs away.
"There you are."
Kazuha looks up to see Tighnari sitting at the table facing the entrance that Kazuha has stumbled through. It's late into the night and because his heart has more room to bear, he feels guilty that Tighnari stayed up to make sure he returned. Before he can apologize Tighnari raises a hand to stop him, sighing before he gestures Kazuha to sit down. Fiddling with his pouch he takes something and slides it across to Kazuha. An Inazuma charm. The same one you gave him when he left.
"You dropped it when you were running through Port Ormos like you had stolen something. I had to convince Cyno that you weren't a thief but you're going to have to apologize to Collei for scaring her like that," he huffs as he settles back into his seat, watching at how Kazuha raises a wary hand to pick up the charm like it'll break under the slightest pressure. It makes Tighnari soften around the edges, the worried lines of his face smoothing out as he rests a hand on the samurai's shoulder. "Are you okay Kazuha?"
It only serves to bring a pained smile to the man's face, shaking his head. No. No, he's not alright. He hasn't felt "alright" in months. He's lived his life thinking that as long as his blade was by his side, he could continue moving. But now it feels like he's slowly dying. Poisoned from the core. He thought he would be able to approach this like he had always been. That he thought he understood what he was doing and trusted the wind to guide him. But now he's confronted with his accountability and he doesn't know what to do but run. Back into the silence of the forest until he can't run any further. Collapsing onto the cold ground as he heaves for another breath. Every moment up until now replays in his head, becoming more vivid no matter how long it's been until he can smell your fragrance. It was a similar feeling to when he lost his friend, this lingering pain. It's why he decided he needed to leave first. He always assumed he remembered because of guilt. Guilt that he asked you to wait, guilt that he wasn't the one that was ready, and guilt that even after all this time he hasn't entered the border of Liyue. Yet no matter how long he goes, this feeling of guilt only remains for you until he doesn't know if that's the correct emotion. If what remains in his heart truly isn't guilt, what is this emotion that keeps him looking back at his memories of you? He doesn't know. It's his first time feeling this way.
"You're in love Kazuha. That's it."
---
There's a sudden ruckus on the ship deck that has Beidou draw her head up, her letter to Ningguang momentarily paused as she listens carefully to what her crew is so noisy about. Their voices are muffled through the thick wooden walls of her office but it doesn't sound like they're in any danger. Either way as the Captain she should check out what everyone is so excited about. She shoulders her fur-lined shawl back on and slams the doors open.
"What's got you all so- Kazuha?!" Beidou nearly chokes midsentence to see her sentence when he spots that familiar white and red hair. Even though it's only been a few months, he looks so much older than she remembers. When he said he wanted to do some soul searching, she didn't think it would make him look so...mature. It's not that his outward appearance is any different, he's still got that adorable baby face, but the air around him is tranquil rather than still.
"Captain, it's good to see you again," Kazuha smiles and gives a small wave. His hand is free of bandages letting her see the electro burns that scar his skin. She politely doesn't let her eyes linger on them for long, that's all in the past anyways. So she grins ear to ear and yanks the poor man into a headlock and a giant slap on the back. Her official way her welcome a trusty companion back.
"About time lover boy, let's get you home."
---
Not me throwing canon personalities and good characterization out the window to push my smitten agenda.
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kiztae · 9 months
Note
hi! if ur not too busy do u think u could come up with something for size kink w soobin? pls & thank you ! 💛
SIZE KINK — c.soobin
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genre: afab!reader, very suggestive, brothers bestfriend!soobin, bulge kink, size kink (duh), making out, dry humping, dirty talk? that's probably it. wc: 1.8k [requested]
a/n: might be a bit short. hope you enjoy anon!
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just like any other saturday, soobin came over to visit your older brother beomgyu and spend the rest of it playing games in his room. it wasn't new to find soobin in the living room, sitting in the couch and scrolling through his phone mindlessly.
it was only natural, considering he almost lived there with you guys with how often he’d come by. so when you crossed his path, you didn't really mind it and conformed to uttering a soft 'hi soobin' before stepping into the kitchen.
"hi y/n" he looks up with a raise of his eyebrows in acknowledgment, shutting off his phone and standing up slightly to move towards the kitchen island. "how's today treating you?" he inquires with a playful smile as he leans over the counter with his elbows.
“it’s treating me fine, soobin. what about you?” you say between yawns while pouring yourself a glass of water.
you had just woken up a few minutes ago, whenever it was sunday you allowed yourself to sleep in as much as you’d like. which is why you were currently standing in the kitchen, wearing your small pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt you found in your brothers room, at noon.
“so far, so good. but i have to say, it’s even better now that you’re here.” he adds boldly, looking down at the marble and then back up at you.
you could see his eyes glimmer mischievously as he ended his sentence, the two orbs dropping lower and trailing down your exposed collarbones, your chest that was exposing just about enough cleavage to help his imagination, and finally, your hands. everything about you looked so dainty and small, soobin couldn’t help but think about how adorable and weirdly hot he found it.
hell, he knew it was wrong to think about his best friend's little sister under this lewd light but it was just so hard not to.
“you really have a way with words don’t you? save them for the girls on your campus.” you grin in response, emptying the glass of cold water in your mouth and feeling the new energy flowing through your body.
if you had to be honest, it’s not like you hadn’t thought about soobin like that before. you were aware of how attractive he was and especially how close to your ideal type he proved to be. soobin was tall, handsome and a literal giant in proportions but also adorable and cute at times.
nevertheless, you pushed those thoughts away quickly whenever you remembered who he was to you. he was your brother’s best friend, he was older than you, he had many other things he could care about other than you… so why bother?
sure, it wouldn't be awful to have some fun with him, especially after not having any form of sexual activity in the past months (not even a kiss), but you were sure it was all not going to happen anyway. so, you tried your best to stay unfazed by his comments and approaches, figuring he was just teasing you.
“i’m not sweet talking you y/n. i’m—“ before he could continue, beomgyu walked into the room with a loud “you can use the shower now!”, signaling that you could start your morning routine and that he could get back to hanging out with his best friend.
“what are you doing here? you could’ve waited in my room man.” he says with an awkward laugh as he taps his friend’s back.
“well, see you around.” you bid your goodbye and go off to continue with your day, not bothering to finish the earlier conversation.
-
why was getting up suddenly so hard? some sort of heavy weight was placed on top of you, not letting you move up or even around in the room of your mattress. this was not like any other sunday morning. were you still dreaming? after squirming in place for a little more you opened your eyes slowly and looked around despite the hazy vision of your only recent wake up call.
moving around (if you could even call it that) helped you figure out two things: 1. whatever it was that was stopping you was laying half on top of you and pressing your side 2. it was breathing. as soon as you realized the second, you started kicking your feet up and turning around in a hurry like crazy.
"woah—! what the—!" the lump under the other blanket started to blurt out in panic, until it moved up and revealed itself. that's when you were met with a confused soobin with the biggest case of bed hair you've seen.
before you could process it, he swiftly took your wrists into his hands and pushed them against the mattress effortlessly, shifting completely on top of you to keep your legs caged between both of his on your sides with ease. finally, if he got kicked once more he was sure he would get bruises.
"hey—!" you shout against his defense before his right palm comes up to cover your mouth clumsily. it was ridiculous how much of your face his hand covered then, all of your jaw and part of your neck being hidden behind it.
"shhh. don't you realize it's super early in the morning?" he whisper-shouts back, frowning and staring into your eyes, finally.
you relaxed and twisted your head around to take in the room, noticing that it was indeed still dark and that the sunset hadn't even happened yet. once you took it in, you took in the sight of soobin, at last. he was breathing loudly, his hair messy, his shirt hanging low on his chest and his eyes waving around as he looked into yours.
"why are you in my bed?" you murmur with a confused frown once he removed his hand, your breathing starting to speed up when you realize the position you're in right now. god, you hoped he was still sleepy enough to not notice the pink blooming in your cheeks.
"i— i don't know. i thought i went into beomgyu's room after i woke up to drink some water... but i guess not." he trails off, his eyes dipping lower from your eyes to your neck, your disheveled hair, your shirt that bunched up and exposed your waist, until he came back up to stare at your mouth for longer.
"i guess not..." you imitate quietly when your gaze also lays on his pouty lips and then back to his eyes.
"i'm sorry y/n" he states in a more deep voice, his tone sounding hushed as he leaned in closer to you, the hand holding your wrist pushing further up and the other dipping the mattress on your side.
"huh? for what?" you mutter out in surprisement at the sudden apology, your voice breaking softly once you feel him get closer.
"for not holding myself back." he whispers back, his hand interlacing with yours and pinning it deeper into the sheets as he catches your breath in a swift kiss. the action earned a small gasp from you, your form stiffening under his hold briefly, unsure of what was happening, until you sighed into his mouth and leaned in.
he softly groaned in satisfaction once he felt you relax and open your mouth more for him, granting him permission to kiss you deeper. "i'm such a shit best friend aren't i? i just couldn't hold it in anymore." he comments as he leaves your lips for a second, the loss of contact already making you disappointed.
but he doesn't stop. his free hand grazes your side softly and grasps your waist roughly, another gasp coming from you that's quickly swallowed by soobin's lips on yours. his kisses are desperate, hungry even. it's like he doesn't want to waste a single second when he's kissing you.
his tongue dips into your bottom lip and then brushes against yours, the wet sound of it starting to get more noticeable as his mouth melts with yours. you weren't sure you expected soobin to get messy like this, saliva mixing with yours, kisses sloppy and needy, you were loving it.
soobin was heavy on top of you, he was making sure he didn't lay his whole body weight, knowing for sure he would crush you, but he was letting himself press against you just enough for you to be trapped below him. if he wanted to, he could do anything he wanted to you, easily. he could make you his personal ragdoll, move you around however he wanted, take you however he wanted.
as his mouth detached from yours to dip lower and start biting and nipping at your neck, the hand on your waist trailed up and stopped right before your breast. "can i? please.." he says in a hushed voice as he licks a small stripe on the bites he left, his breathing ragged already. following your nod he takes your breast in his hand, his grasp being enough to cover it whole. once he gets permission his hands start roaming around your body more and more, grabbing whatever he can. his palms kneading your ass, then playing with your nipples, grasping your hip tightly as he groans into your mouth between kisses.
"you're so small— i could break you if i'm too rough, couldn't i?" he purrs into your ear, biting your earlobe gently and grinning. he didn't know what got into him but seeing you so weak and helpless in his hold was driving him crazy, he never knew he was so big until now.
"you're just— too big." the whiny tone in your voice as you replied was what did it for him. how could you say that to him and expect him not to go insane?
"fuck, don't do that to me." he blurts out as he lets his head fall on your chest, his hands tightening around your hips. "i won't be able to stop." he warns before his fingers dig into your sides and he pushes himself against you, his giant bulge rubbing on your underwear harshly.
"oh my god— soobin, you're huge" you moan out as the shocks of pleasure hit you, your hips instantly jolting forwards to meet his. at this, he starts thrusting his hips harder and faster against you, rocking the bed carelessly.
"yeah? bet that if i fucked you, you'd have a bulge right here. wouldn't you baby?" he questions while rubbing your tummy right above where his dick was pushing into you. "i'd fuck you so deep, you'd feel it in your stomach." he adds with a smirk, looking right into your eyes as if to taunt you. he never once stopped rocking his hips against you, the tip of his cock starting to leak through his boxers and onto your panties, hitting you right with each thrust.
"then do it." you plead in between whines, taking his cheek in your hand and staring into his eyes desperately. "fuck me until you break me."
-
© kiztae, 2023
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