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#like I'm fucking glad you don't know what its like to feel the kind of grief I do you little shitheads so never fucking tell me I'm grieving
endless-ineffabilities · 10 months
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sapphire-hearted (part one)
Aemond Targaryen x f!reader
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The start to an angst-ridden little story, wherein the reader, Aemond's dearest friend (and clandestine love) learns of his apparent new paramour, Alys.
themes/warnings: angst, jealousy, fwb type situation, Aemond is kind of a clueless twat
part two ▪︎ part three ▪︎ masterlist
edit(!): this oneshot seems to have taken a life of its own, like most of my fics, quite unexpectedly! I've changed the title from (sapphire) blue heart to sapphire-hearted, and part two will be out in a few hours! is out now!
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"Why do you not look at me?" He gently pries your face towards him with his free hand, as you both lie naked on his sheets, his arm wrapped around you. "Have I done something wrong?" he asks.
"Nothing, Aem." You shake your head, letting his hand fall.
He takes one deep breath. He knows you like the back of his hand; he knows something isn't right.
"You're not fooling me, gevie." Beautiful, he calls you, as you sit up and bring your knees to your chest. You feel the cold air on your back, and then, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin.
Gevie. You wonder if he calls Alys the same. After their rumoured trysts. After she is seen leaving his bedchambers. Has she lain among these very sheets herself, where you are now?
You and Aemond were not together, no. You were not betrothed. Your House was too lowly to allow you to wed a Targaryen prince. But he had said he was yours. Just yours.
How has that changed so quickly?
"Speak to me," he pleads. He sits up behind you, kissing the back of your neck. "You know I have my methods of making you do so. Shall I employ them?" You can hear the amusement in his voice, the assuredness.
You thought you loved it more than anything, but now it feels like some cruel jest.
You turn to face him directly. "Is she better than me?"
He leans back, fully aware of who you mean. "Hmm," he purses his lips. "Jealousy does not become you, it seems."
"I'm glad you think me amusing." You bite back, looking away.
"This is amusing. How can you be jealous of her?"
You aren't sure what to make of that question. Is he mocking you, and the justification of your envy? Who are you to him anyway? Just a friend, no?
"Aemond. I thought... that we..."
"You know what we are. How we are. Isn't it enough?"
"Not if I have to share you with some witch!" you rise from his bed, and wrap your cloak around yourself. "I've turned down the finest suitors, simply because you wished me to. Simply because you were jealous. Don't you think you owe me the same courtesy?"
His voice is colder when he responds, "What do you think I am doing with Alys, hmm? Do you think I enjoy having her grace my bedchambers, and have her clawing at me?" He stands too, towering over your stature. "I have never wanted to bed anyone other than you. What I am doing with her... what I have to do with her... It is for the good of the Seven Kingdoms."
"Spare me, Aemond." You swat his hands away, when he reaches for your arms. "Don't..." He tries again, much quicker this time, and he holds your forearms tightly against his bare chest.
"She has magic." There is a wild look in his eye when he says this, and it makes you uneasy. "She sees things, Alys. She can predict what the enemy's next move is, where they'll be. What I am doing with her, lying with her, is but a small price to pay."
"What if you don't lie with her? You don't have to..."
"She asks me to."
"You don't have to. You're the prince! She answers to you, not the other way around."
"I refused, of course, in the beginning." He holds your face gently in his hands now, trying to make you understand. "That did no good. She gave me nothing. I could have her tortured. But this will only serve to distance her even more from our cause."
"So, to get what you want... to hear her incredible visions and benefit from her magical spells, you have to fuck her? Very astute of you, Aemond."
"Careful, my love." He tilts his head, trying to work through your anger.
You use your palms on his chest to push him away. He only stumbles a little, the faint sound of his low growl reaching your ears.
"You know what I'll do?" you threaten, your cloak falling back to the floor as you wave your arms dramatically. "The next dashing Lord that asks for my hand, I'll take. It could be Lord Manderly's son or... Lord Beesbury's eldest boy has made an offer, too. I'll wed him, whoever he is, why not? Even if I don't love him, it will only be a small price to pay," you sneer, mirroring his words from before. "It is what's expected of me, after all. It is for the good of my House."
Aemond's jaw clenches in his rage. "Then I shall have him captured and quartered to pieces in the dungeons before he can even get the chance to - "
"No," you shake your head at his nonsense. "No, you would not. You would not do something like that to me. How would that be fair? You and I, we'll never marry. As it stands, you'd sooner wed your witch than I."
"I would marry you in a heartbeat." He moves closer now, desperation creeping in his voice. His lips meet yours in a haste. Wet and demanding. When you turn your head, he only continues kissing the side of your face. Then he stops, pressing his forehead to your temple. "You know this, my love. You have to know this. Alys is nothing compared to you. Without her, I might lose the war. But without you... I lose myself."
You nearly cave in at that, as you always do when it comes to Aemond. But now, you remind yourself to stand your ground.
"Then prove it to me," you whisper, and a stray tear falls down your cheek. "Do as I ask. Stop being with her."
Seconds pass. Aemond's mind races at the possible outcomes. His heart aches at the sight of your sadness, but he feels compelled to think of other things too.
The war. Defeating the Blacks. Easily gaining the upper hand through dark magic.
At the end of it all - and if he does what he does, it should all end very soon - he will still have you. He's sure of it.
You will always come back to him. You will understand.
"I cannot," he says, his words striking through your heart.
You feel numb all over, but you force yourself to step away from him, and hurriedly put your dress back on.
"My love, please..." He watches helplessly as you tie the strings of your skirts, preparing to leave.
"My prince," you cursty, when you've managed to put yourself together. "I am not certain when, but you're invited to honour us with your presence at my coming marriage ceremony."
"I'd sooner command Vhagar to burn Westeros to ashes."
"You mean, you'd sooner bask in the pleasures that only your witch can offer?" you laugh mirthlessly. "Of course."
You start walking away, determinedly. Ice has flooded your veins and your heart, turning you cold and blue. But you press on. The pain will have to wait for later.
"You'll come back to me," he calls after you.
"Oh, I wouldn't hold my breath, if I were you."
You slam the door behind you.
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Angst!!! We all need this sometimes. I swear it riles me up so good, I almost wonder if something's messed up with my romantic ideals ....
.... who are we kidding? Of course there is. Because I would marry our one-eyed Vhagar-riding war terrorist in a heartbeat.
taglist open for an upcoming part!
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hollyhomburg · 3 months
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Before I Leave You (Pt.66)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.
Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.
W/c: 8.3k
A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
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(Four years prior, Hoseok)
Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.
It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.
This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.
The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.
Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.
What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-
After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.
He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.
He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him
It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.
"I don't want you to get sick pup."
"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."
"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"
But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.
His ex-pack omega.
It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.
He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.
Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).
Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.
He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.
Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.
(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).
Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.
“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”
The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.
The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.
He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.
This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.
He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.
Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.
Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.
The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.
Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.
Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).
Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.
“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”
“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”
“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”
"Wait, please- I love you."
"We know. We're sorry."
Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.
He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.
Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.
Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.
Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.
Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.
Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.
The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.
He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."
That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.
(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")
Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.
Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.
When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.
(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.
They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.
The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.
“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."
Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.
~-~
(Now, You)
You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.
But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.
You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.
The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.
The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.
Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.
There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.
This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.
You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.
Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.
Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.
Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.
It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.
Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;
How dare she.
How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).
How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.
There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.
The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.
Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.
The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.
The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.
The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.
A single inch.
His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.
He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.
When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.
(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)
By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”
You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.
The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).
The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-
and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.
You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.
Why didn't he shoot?
The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.
One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.
Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.
"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"
You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.
“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”
He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.
You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.
The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.
There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.
A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.
There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.
Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?
Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.
If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.
Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”
You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.
When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.
Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards
But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.
The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.
Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.
And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.
Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.
“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”
The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.
Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.
They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.
Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.
Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.
He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.
Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.
Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.
“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”
The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.
The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.
“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”
Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.
But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.
His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."
You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”
He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”
Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.
“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”
“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.
“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."
The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.
You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-
“Please- please don’t kill them."
He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”
He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.
“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.
You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.
Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.
“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.
“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”
You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.
You won't let any of this happen.
The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.
If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.
you step forward and shake your head. “I don’t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.
“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”
You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-
You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.
“Pup-”
You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.
Only-
Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.
You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.
“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”
Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.
“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”
The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.
But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”
Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.
Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.
“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”
"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"
Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.
Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.
No.
Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.
I love you. Sorry.
The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.
Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.
If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.
Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.
“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.
“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”
“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”
Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”
It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.
But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.
Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.
She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.
I’m sorry, I love you.
“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.
When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.
She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.
And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.
Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.
The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.
The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"
Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.
“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.
“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.
You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.
And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-
Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.
By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.
They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.
And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.
“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”
Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.
Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-
At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.
Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.
Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.
The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.
Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.
Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.
And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.
There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.
The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.
Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.
His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.
Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.
You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.
There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.
“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”
There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.
“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.
Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.
It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.
It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.
~-~
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Notes:
if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?
One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.
Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(
hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.
i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.
i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.
I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.
I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.
This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.
i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.
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gay-jesus-probably · 10 months
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Let me just preface this by saying everyone is allowed to have their own opinions, TOTK is a really fun game, and I'm glad that other people have been able to enjoy the story as well.
...But I'm being dead serious with my complaints about the narrative being 100% imperialist propaganda. And I'm getting really tired of people replying to those posts by saying it can't be imperialist propaganda, because imperialism is bad and the game says that Hyrule is the good guys.
Like, guys. That's not the argument you think it is. Yes, I am aware that the game tells us Ganondorf is a flat, one dimensional character with no ambitions, interests or motivations beyond destroying the entire world for the hell of it, and also it's totally not racist because he's green, not brown like literally every other member of his race. Unfortunately literally all of these things are kind of the entire goddamn problem.
See, the thing is, everyone trying to make these arguments is accepting the game at face value. Hyrule is the perfect and almighty nation chosen by the demigod Zonai, and whose royal family has the right to rule due to their divine heritage. The other races exist to serve the glory of Hyrule, and they're happy to do it. Ganondorf is pure evil and must be stopped at any costs.
But that's not how anything works. The story informing me that Hyrule is the ultimate good that has done nothing wrong is the whole goddamn reason why I don't trust Hyrule at all. There's always more of a reason than that. And the game fucking suggests there was more going on! Ganondorf mentions Rauru has repeatedly 'invited' the Gerudo to become Rauru's subjects, and let's be clear here, it doesn't matter how peaceful those 'invitations' were, when the guy who owns every single magical nuclear missile in the world repeatedly demands you surrender to him, there's always going to be an implied threat of 'do it or get magically nuked'. Just that power difference alone shows us exactly why Ganon would feel threatened enough to invade. It's because Rauru was holding a gun to his head, and Ganon was expected to just trust that he'd never pull the trigger.
And yes, even if it wasn't intentional Hyrule was always threatening to wipe out the other nations, considering the entire royal family walked around openly wearing their magical nukes as cute accessories. If they couldn't be safely hidden away, there wouldn't be four other secret stones sitting untouched in a vault until the last second.
But that's never acknowledged. Of course Hyrule is the only nation with the right to the secret stones; even if other races get to touch them, they can only have them if they swear eternal blind loyalty and servitude to the glory of King Rauru and Princess Zelda. Ganon wanting to have one magical nuclear bomb out of a stockpile of eight of them is proof that he's dangerous and evil. I mean my god, what if he just walked around all day wearing a magical nuke and using its power for his own benefit, that would be terrifying. It's only okay when Hylian royalty does it.
And you can't argue that Ganon betrayed his own people, considering we don't get to know fucking anything about his relationship with his people. He's shows as the leader of the Gerudo, we're told he's a hero to his people, he has soldiers that loyally follow him into battle... and then oh nevermind, they all hate him and will spend eternity trying to atone for sharing a race with him. How did the entire race do a complete 180 in the span of at most a few months? Who cares, what's important is that now they accept they exist to serve Hyrule so they get to be the good guys now and we don't need to know why they were following Ganondorf, or why they stopped following him.
Basically my point is that yeah, I fucking know how the game insists everything went down. That's the entire reason I think it's imperialist propaganda, because the entire story feels like Hylian propaganda to conceal and justify some horrific atrocities that caused all of this. I literally do not believe that I'm getting the story through reliable narrators, especially considering that the only people allowed to actually tell me the story are all the characters that have the most reasons to be heavily biased in favour of Hyrule.
When the game shows me protagonists that have a massive amount of power and control over the entire world, then says the bad guy doesn't like that system just because he's evil, and literally nothing and nobody in the game says anything to oppose that take, I have some questions about what the fuck the story isn't telling me. And I'd really appreciate it if people would stop trying to argue with me just by telling me to stop asking those questions.
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yourmidnightlover · 1 year
Text
good vibrations
pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader
summary: you love been pent up for weeks now and just needed a quick release when you get interrupted by your best friend…
warnings: !not proofread! vibrators used (hahaha get it? the title), kinda simpy/puppy-esc xavier, unprotected piv, kinda bossy reader?
a/n: this is kind of a shortie, but it was in my head. i might revisit the idea and rewrite it much better, but we shall see. double post tonight… isn’t it wild??? anyways, enjoy, my loves <3
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you knew xavier would be coming by soon to go with you to jericho for a late night outing. you just couldn’t help yourself.
you hadn’t been able to get yourself off for three weeks due to exams and everything going on. it didn’t help that your best friend, who you loved, always wanted to hang out. and you loved hanging out with him too! just not when you were horny as hell and absolutely had to get yourself off soon or you would explode.
at this point nothing would stop you from pulling out your vibrator and turning it on the lowest setting to get yourself worked up. god, the way it feels against your clit is perfect, even more so as you turn it up a level... again, and again until it's at its highest setting.
but it was still extremely hard to explain as he barged into your dorm, "you ready to go..." his eyes were trained on your vibrator positioned right between your legs, focused on that sensitive little nub that's been aching for days. you really weren't sure how he hadn't heard the vibrator from outside, it was on the highest setting. "yet?" his voice rose nearly three octaves as he spoke.
"i..." you had already switched the vibrator off before you froze for a second. you noticed him swiftly turning around, mumbling apologies as you covered yourself with your blanket, throwing your head back with a groan. "gahhh!" you practically growled. "I JUST WANT TO CUM, XAVIER!"
"ohhh my god," he swiftly switched back to reality as he began to walk towards the door.
"wait..." you told him as his hand was on the doorknob. "look, i'm sorry. i've just been a bit... frustrated and pent up the past few weeks. I figured i would take care of it before we went out because i really thought i was going to explode... anyway, i'm sorry."
"you-you don't have any reason to be," he shook his head as he turned towards you. "i mean it's natural for that to... y'know, yea. i mean i do it too, so i definitely know the feeling of needing that... release."
"exactly!" you sighed, glad that he wasn't repulsed by your actions... some people were weird about female masturbation. "do..." your mind began to wander. "do you feel that need right now?"
"y/n, i..." he ran his hand through his hir before taking a seat at your desk. "you don't know what you're even saying."
"then let me rephrase," you tossed your sheets off of your body, exposing your bare chest and body to him once more, "you can sit at the desk and watch me finish and then we'll go to jericho, or, we could help each other out with our frustrations?" you glanced down at his crotch, primarily the impressive bulge that only continued to grow.
"i-uh," you could see his chest beating harder as he eyed your pussy. "would-would that even be aright? like.. would that be alright with you?"
"do you know how long i've wanted this?" you sat up on the bed, your legs bent and wide open. "do you know what i was thinking about?" he shook his head 'no.' "i was thinking about your long fingers. about how long they are, how deep they would get inside me. god, i thought about you underneath me. how bad i want to sit on your hard dick and hear your moans."
"y/n," his breathing became audible as you now rose to your knees, reaching out to him as he approached you. you grasped his shirt's collar. "i really want you."
"thank fuck," you sighed as you let one hand cup the side of his neck, keeping eye contact as you leaned in until his lips finally touched yours.
his hands immediately went to your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave marks. he seemed hungry, starving even, for your touch. he began to roll his hips into yours before you used your own to roll him over on the bed, you hovering atop him.
"i think i'm gonna explode," his voice came out as a whimper, a beg for you to do something. "you're so perfect. always been perfect to me," your lips were attacking his neck, your hands working at his pants. "god, this must be a dream," his hands were roaming in your hair. "if it is a dream then i don't wanna wake up. not ever."
"xavier?"
"mhmm," your eyes finally met his with a kind but eager smile.
"help me get your pants off," you urged him, not even realizing that you had began to grind down on his legs. "now."
"mhmm-yea... yes," he lifted his hips for you so you could pull the elastic band down easier.
when you saw his dick spring up against his stomach the only word that came to your mind were: "holy fuck."
"wh-what is it?" he was now wearing a worried expression as if something had gone wrong, or he was disappointing in any way.
you grabbed his cock that was already leaking precum and began to lazily stroke it, "it's perfect, xay," you pressed one more kiss to his mouth before lining him up with your center. "so fucking perfect," you dragged your pussy up and down his dick as you asked, "condom? i'm clean and on birth control and i just… i just really need this."
"no, just... just do it," he nodded eagerly as his hands wandered over your body, grabbing at your breasts and hips. "please, y/n?"
you waited no longer, letting your pussy glide over his shaft, encompassing it in your own warmth. his mouth opened wide, small whimpers leaving his mouth before he clamped it shut, now biting down on his lip.
"god, it's so good," you let the thought that's been in your mind the past ten minutes of making out, the tension getting to you. "so good for me, xay," one hand was raking through his hair, gently tugging at the strands as the other was on his chest, used to keep yourself propped up.
"this really is heaven," he sighed as he threw his head back. "please don't stop," his hand went to the side of the bed, grabbing your vibrator before connecting it to your clit.
"holy fuck, that's so amazing, xavier," your body began to get out of rhythm, your hips staggering with every move you made.
"i've had dreams of this," he began to let his hips thrust up and down to meet your own. "god, i can feel the vibrating through your pussy. i've dreamed of this every way possible," he held onto you as your upper body collapsed on his chest, now letting his hips to all the work.
"i'm gonna-fuck," your arms were only tightening their hold around his neck. "i'm cumming, oh fuck-i'm cumming! don't stop, xavier, oh god!" you turned your face into his neck as your moans persisted.
"you feel so good, holy shit," his hips began to stutter as he fucked you through your high, bringing him to his own release. "where-fuck-where do you want it?"
"inside," you grasped tighly onto his hair, gently tugging on the roots. "need it inside."
"fuck," his hips stuttered once more as he filled your insides with his cum, letting a few more strokes fuck it all inside you.
you had a dazed smile plastered on your face when you muttered, “we’ve gotta do that more.”
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Text
Home Bound
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Summary: You're finally "visiting" your parents after 5 years of not coming home, and you run into a certain someone you forgot is living next door.
Genre: fluff, also angsty
Pairing: neighbor!Joel Miller x female reader
Disclaimer: Joel is a contractor in his 40s, your dad is retired in his 60s, your age is not specified, but in my head it's about 27 up.
warnings: none
Masterlist
-----
5 years ago...
"You should get out there and chase your dreams."
"Yeah right," You snort. "Like I have them."
"Yes, you do," Joel says, "What about creating your own business? You always said you want one of your own."
You sigh. "I do, but I don't even know what business that will be. I'm just not an entrepreneur, I can't do it."
He frowns, caressing your hair. "So what are you gonna do? Stay here and mope around?"
"I'll figure it out eventually. And don't say that, that's mean."
He smiles and starts leaving kisses down your neck. "Sorry sweetheart. Let me make it up to you."
-----
"There she is!" Your dad welcomes you with open arms. "How is my little girl?"
You hug him back and chuckle, "Hi dad."
"Oh she's not so little anymore." Your mom swats your dad away and hugs you. "Have you eaten at all? You must be hungry from your flight."
"No, mom, I'm okay."
"Sorry we couldn't pick you up," Your dad helps you with your luggages, "Your mother here forgot she invited like 50 people for a random gathering so she's been working her ass off cooking all day- Wow, did you bring home your entire apartment or something?"
"50 people?" You take your luggages from him, ignoring his comment. "Why? Are we celebrating something?"
Your mom sighs and shakes her head. "Your father is overreacting. I just invited a few friends over because I can....and our neighbor, Joel."
"Our neighbor-"
"Knock knock," A familiar voice makes its way into your house with a bottle of wine, whiskey, and pie in his hands. "Thought I'd come in early to help you out with-"
"Joel."
You're a little glad he hasn't changed since you last saw him. His hair is still the same, he kept his scruff, and he still has that worn-out shirt you used to wear after he fucked you out of your mind.
He's staring back at you with the same look. Longing and wanting nothing more than to devour each other, but knowing it shouldn't happen. You feel betrayed by what he did, and he feels guilty for pushing you away.
"Joel! So nice of you to come and help out." Your dad pats his back. Joel has always been close to your dad, he likes to help out with fixing your dad's car, lifting anything heavy, anything really.
"Sorry," Joel says, "I didn't realize you were uh- you-"
"Nonsense, you're welcome at any time. You remember my daughter," your dad motions at you who's standing behind him. "Remember Joel, honey? He drove you to the college dance when I couldn't."
"Of course, I remember, dad." You smile. He also fucked me in the back of his car after that.
And if it wasn't clear before, your dad has no idea you used to have a thing with Joel. Your dad leaves for the kitchen with the things Joel brought over, and that leaves you with him by the door.
It was awkward.
You don't want to leave him just like that, because part of you does still long to hug him, kiss him, and just take him then and there, but you wonder if he still feels the same.
Isn't it kind of pathetic to still feel the same after three years? After he shut you out of his life and pushed you away the way he did? You're still incredibly hurt by it even though you know he thought he was doing what was best for you.
"I uh," Joel wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans. "I didn't know you were coming home."
You hum. What, were you going to avoid me if you knew? You bite back your rhetorical question when your mom calls for Joel from the kitchen. You take that as a chance to slip away into your bedroom and shower. A cold one is much needed.
-----
5 years ago...
"Why don't you apply to that job you've been talking about so much?"
You furrow your brows. "The one in New York?"
"Yeah, the high payin' job?"
"It's in New York."
"So?"
"So?" You repeat him and chuckle. "I can't go to New York."
"Why not? You'll get plenty of experience, you can live out your 20s, you know. Have fun and all that."
You frown. "If I'm reading this right, it sounds like you want me to go to New York. Or anywhere else for that matter."
"Look, sweetheart," He takes a deep breath. "I'm in my 40s, my life is good here. I've got a good job, it's what I want to do.. All I'm saying is, it took me some time to find my passion, so you should get out there and figure that out for yourself."
"Why are you so sure that my life is out there? What if it's here? In Austin? With you?"
"And what if it's not?" Joel's voice raised a little. "Sweetheart, I can't be the reason you're not living your best life. I don't ever want to hold you back like that."
You're trying to hold your tears back. "You're not, Joel. This is my choice, I want to stay in Austin-"
"You're going to New York." He says sternly with his eyes closed. "And whatever we have now ends here."
"Wait, what?"
He grabs his keys from the table, gets up, and leaves the cafe. That's about the last time you ever saw Joel because he kept avoiding you after that. And of course, you left for New York.
-----
You slip on your maroon dress, modest enough for a family (and now friends) dinner, and prepare yourself to go down and greet the guests.
Maybe you can fake being sick after the flight, but it's gonna be another problem because your parents are gonna give you shit about that. Plus, you do kind of want to see Joel.
You mainly want him to see you in the dress you're wearing.
As you're going down the stairs, you pause as you hear chatter and laughter from Joel. Wait, what if Joel's seeing someone? You hadn't taken that into consideration. What if he has a girlfriend, or even a wife and a baby? What if he's managed to build an entire family in the past 5 years and all you've been doing during that time is.. mope around, having meaningless relationships while thinking about him, and how much you miss but hate him at the same time?
Your shoulders slump. He probably doesn't feel the same. How can he feel the same? It's been 5 years, grow up and get a grip. You've just been delusional all this time.
Your mother spots you sitting on the staircase and smiles fondly. "Honey, you feeling alright?"
You hum. "Just... stress."
"Aw," she coos, sitting next to you and handing you her glass of wine. "I'm so proud of you, you know. Getting that big job in New York and going there all by yourself, must've been so scary. I would've been too scared and gone straight home."
You smile bitterly. That's another secret you haven't told anyone yet. You actually quit your job a few months ago and have been working and taking barista classes at the cafe by your old apartment. You brought a few suitcases for a week's worth of visit because you're.. not actually visiting. You haven't told your parents that you're moving back in to open a cafe with the cafe owner in New York.
"Oh what would I do to just keep you here for a little longer." She pinches your nose. "Come on, you should meet new friends we've made over the years."
Your mom pulls you into the kitchen and you can see Joel in your backyard, talking to your dad, and a couple other people, standing real close to a woman. Your grip on that wine glass tightens.
A few hours into the party, you're finally alone in the living room while the rest of the people are watching fireworks from the backyard. Sighing, you start pouring yourself another glass of wine.
Someone clears their throat behind you, and once you see it's Joel, you pour more wine into your glass.
"So, uh, how've you been?"
Miserable. "Great. You?"
"That's good to hear. Yeah, I'm.. I'm doin' okay. Gettin' old." He tries to crack a joke but straightens his face when he sees you're not smiling.
"How's the job in New York?"
"Let's not do this." You sigh. "Let's just.. not."
You stand up to leave through the front door, but he stops you before you can make it. "Wait, sweetheart-"
"Don't-" you turn to point at him but put your finger down. "You don't get to call me that."
Joel's eyes soften. "I know. 'M sorry. I just.. seeing you after all these years, it's good seeing you living your life out there."
You scoff. Deep down you know Joel was right 5 years ago. You know you had to go to New York to figure out who you are -- you still are trying to. You had to go out of your comfort zone and be adventurous because you wouldn't be here if that didn't happen.
That doesn't mean that you enjoyed the ride.
5 years of living in New York was lonely because you were alone. Tried to make friends but no one really stuck and you were always so busy with that big job that you barely had time to do anything else. Which is also why you quit and decided to open a cafe. It may not be as high-paying as the office job, but at least you enjoy it.
You know Joel's right, you just hate how easily he ended things with you and made you feel like you're not worth fighting for.
Walking out to the front where no one's around, you sit on the railing facing Joel, he's standing right in front of you, almost between your legs.
"I quit my job." You confess, looking down at your glass of wine.
You don't dare look at Joel. You can't face the disappointment in his eyes. "That big paying job sounds real nice from the outside, but I've been miserable since I left this place."
Joel doesn't say anything.
"I know, you're probably disappointed in me. You, my parents... you're all rooting for me to be successful there, but it's just not for me." You say. "I don't even know why I'm explaining all this to you."
"I'm sorry." He finally says. "I pushed you to go there. Thought I knew what was best for you."
You offered him half a smile, shrugging. "It had to happen. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have left Austin and wouldn't have learned what I know now."
Joel nods slowly. "Told your parents yet?"
You sigh. "Not yet. I'm not sure how to. They were so excited when I got that job... and now I'm moving back in as an adult. It's embarrassing."
"Lots of people move back in with their parents." Joel tries to lighten the mood. "Plus, you worked there for 5 years. That's a long time-- maybe too long, even."
"Yeah, but- whoa!" You almost fell while trying to adjust your sitting position on the railing. Joel catches you by holding your back, his arms now around you.
You can smell his cologne. He's been using the same brand for years, and sometimes you like to even go to the shop and smell it just to get a whiff of him.
"Careful." He whispers, eyes staring at you but it sounds like he's talking to himself.
Your hands rest on his chest and you can feel how fast his heart is beating. "I-" You stop yourself, unsure if you should confess your feelings. He hurt you once, and though he did it for your best interest, you're hesitant because who's not afraid of getting hurt?
"Joel, I-" You pause again.
He brings his hand to cup your face and kisses you, ignoring the thoughts screaming in his head that he doesn't deserve you.
You curl your fingers around his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.
Eventually, you both have to pull away from each other, and it gets quiet again. You know Joel's not the type to talk about his feelings, but you're honestly too scared to talk about--
"I love you." He says before placing your head to rest on his chest so you don't look at him. "I was real stupid for pushing you away all those years ago. You were.. you are the best thing that's ever happened to me."
You try to look up at him but he only pushes you even further onto his chest. "I'm not done."
A chuckle escapes your lips.
"I love you, and I'm gonna be a selfish prick again and ask you," he takes a deep breath, "Do you want to get coffee sometime?"
You slowly nod against his chest and smile. "Just don't leave me in the middle of the cafe."
He chuckles and pinches you for that jab. "S'alright. We can have coffee at my place."
You punch him playfully.
"Joking, joking." He defends.
"Joel, let's take it slow this time." You say. "I don't want to be just a fling."
He lifts your head up and smiles at you. "Oh sweetheart. You were never a fling to me. Never have been, never will."
-------
a/n: kinda wanna write how reader and joel met now..
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brodieland · 7 days
Text
.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 10 Things I hate about you ´ˎ˗
Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader Synopsis: Percy starts trying to make his move on Y/N, but she just won't budge!! Warning(s): swearing Word Count: 1902
╰➤ MASTERLIST pt2
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"That's actually the new rule? God Silena must hate you," Piper joked.
"You wouldn't even imagine, she's so dramatic. And her taste in boys isn't any better," you shook your head. You were both walking to get some water, absolutely dehydrated from soccer.
"Makes me glad I like girls," you both laughed. As practice neared it's end, Piper was heading towards her dad's car to go home. You made your way over to the bleachers where your bags sat and grabbed them before heading back to your car. When you sat down, you got a text from Silena,
'can u get some McDonalds on ur way back'
'no' 'sike im going now'
You pulled into the parking lot seeing the drive-thru line was too long to wait. You walked up to an empty kiosk, to tired to interact with anyone, and ordered your food.
"You go to AHS right," a guys voice you didn't recognize asked from behind you.
"I don't know, what does my uniform say?"
"That you're a soccer kid. You sure your any good?"
You sighed as you turned to face the mysterious boy behind you. He was taller than average with messy black hair. He had a hoodie with some sweats on. "Soccer balls aren't the only kind of balls I can kick the life out of, so can you fuck off?"
"Woah, feisty one aren't you?"
"By feisty would you maybe mean iconoclast, orrr?"
"Maybe more intractable," you raised your eyebrows.
"Wow, big words huh," You went to turn back and finish ordering. Percy took the chance to walk over, leaning on the machine whilst facing you.
"What? Did you think I was stupid?"
You internally groaned, why was he still here? "You definitely have the look. Now, do you mind?"
He was standing in front of the machine to pay, "Oh, never."
He had a shit eating grin as he pulled his phone and paid. "Hey! I didn't ask you to do that."
"Call it my treat," he smiled.
"No I'm paying you back, I think I have cash in my bag," you went rummaging through your bag to find absolutely no cash. "Apple Pay?"
"Hey, are you asking for my number? That's really sweet," it feels like an aneurysm just burst from the annoyance this conversation has left you with.
"Nevermind fuck you I'm not paying you back," you spat back.
"Meaning now you owe me," Percy said. Deep breathes.
"I don't owe you shit, its not like I asked you to pay."
"Yeah yeah, potato potato," Percy made his way towards the door. "See ya around, I'll figure out how you can return the favor."
You might just have to air out the McDonalds. You sighed and waited for five minutes as they called out for your order. When you grabbed the food you made your way home, eating Silena's fries on the way back. Dad was working late at the hospital so it was just you two.
"Have I ever told you your my favorite sister?"
"No not as of late," you put the bags of food on the table and started chowing down. "You literally haven't spoken to me in two days. Be glad I'm so nice."
"Well nice is a really strong word," you glared at her. "If you really wanted to be nice, then you'd-"
"No."
"You don't even know what I'm gonna say."
"Fine, what?"
"You'd go on a date so I can go on a date-"
"No," Silena grunted loudly.
"Why do you insist on keeping me captive in this home. I wanna enjoy my teenage years you know."
"You not missing out on much. The guys here are lame, including your oh so dreamy Lukey."
"He's literally amazing. Like have you seen him? His car?"
"Hard to miss. He's just so in your face, it makes me sick," you faked gagged.
"Haven't you ever wanted to live the perfect teenage life."
"Tried it. It sucked, not what it's caked out to be," you smiled as you started to clean up. Silena leaned back into her chair sighing, looking defeated. "You know, college is only two years away. I think you'll be fine until then."
"My life is so boring," she said as she walked up to her room. You could tell she was upset, but you weren't going to date some loser just so she could get tossed by Luke when he was bored. That was something he did a lot.
You went to do some homework at your desk while listening to some music. You saw your phone went off and went to check it, someone had texted you.
'I think I found a way for u to pay back the favor'
There's no way.
'how tf did u find my number'
'dw bout it??' 'why u gotta be nosy??'
'im blocking you'
'wait??'
'no??' 'fine wtf do u want'
'on Friday there's a party'
'no'
'alright I'll pick you up at 9'
'no you won't???'
He stopped answering after that. How on gods green grass did he find your number? You just ignored it, putting your phone on silent and getting back to your homework. Without realizing it, you fell asleep at your desk.
You woke up when you heard banging at the door, "Y/N!!"
You leaned up and stretched in your chair. Desk naps are absolute back killers holy. "What do you want?"
"Did you ever make it to your bed," Silena looked at you up and down.
"No, what time is it?"
"Time for you to hurry the hell up, we need to leave now," she said as she stormed out. You groaned as you stood up and walked over to your closet, grabbing some jeans and a hoodie before running down toward your car. "About time."
"I could just not drive you," you said as you both stepped in the car. You were just joking of course, she doesn't need to be asking Luke Castellan for a ride anyways.
You pulled in the parking lot, and before even coming to a full stop, you saw your sister jumping out and making her way to Mr. Convertible. BARF.
"Dude, I don't think the plans working," Charles said, sounding worried.
Leo sighed, "look we just need some time, Y/Ns not gonna just give in after like, a day."
Charles groaned as he stared at Silena and Luke flirting from a mere 50 feet away. The way her long hair flowed in the wind, the way her lip gloss shinned in the sun, he couldn't get enough. "Whatever, I have French tutoring with her later, we'll see how it goes."
"Not gonna lie this is kind of hard," Percy said from behind the two, making them jump.
"Jesus, you need a bell or something," Leo said with his hand on his heart, feeling it speed up.
Percy rolled his eyes, "Anyways, I think she blocked me, and all I did was pay for her food."
Charles just softly facepalmed. When he got his face out of his hands, he saw Luke walking towards them.
"Luke," Percy cheered while holding his arms out. Luke did not return the hug.
"Dude, I'm not paying you to get fucking aired. I need you to take her to the party this Friday. Not the one in 20 and a half years," Luke complained.
"Dude, its not like Y/Ns the easiest person to ask out around here," Leo chimed.
"Literally," Percy agreed. "Look, I invited her out to the party, just gimme a moment bro." "Plus, I'm gonna need a pay raise."
Luke laughed in his face, "Yeah no way."
"Then you can say goodbye to little ms Silena over there," Luke rolled his eyes as he pulled out his wallet, slapping a Benjamin into Percy's hand. "Love you too."
Luke just held up his middle finger as he walked off, "He's such an amazing ray of sunshine isn't he?"
Percy and Charles just stared at Leo, "What? Am I not allowed to be my funny and whimsical self?"
They both walked off without saying a word. Silena and Charles have their free period and use it to study on some French together.
"So how's operation 'get my impossible sister a date' going," Silena asked.
"Well, we have a guy, but she's just not going for him. We need some help here, what kind of guy does she go for?"
"The problem is she just DOESN'T," Charles gave her a look before she continued. "Not like that. I mean, she thinks guys like Logan Lerman and Dylan O'brian are pretty hot, so Percys probably her type."
"Okay so we got that right at least," he grumbled.
"I mean the reason she just shits on all the guys here is because she thinks of them all as 'misogynistic assholes of the patriarchy,' she rolled her eyes.
"So what, a guy who can shut the fuck up when needed or something," Silena laughed at Charles joked, and he sweared he started ascending.
"Yeah just maybe," she smiled.
"Silena, can I ask you something?"
"Whats up?"
"You know the party on Friday. Would you wanna go? I mean if Percy can convince your sister and all you know."
"Of course I want to go, which is why I really need Y/N to just man up," she paused. "or woman up, I guess."
﹒º. ౨ৎ
You sat back and doodled in your notebook in your English class. After spending most the class debating over sexist views in classic literature, you felt kind of annoyed. Its like no one cares these days, you know?
The bell rang and you walked over to your friend Hazel. "Honestly you should be like a lawyer or something, watching you arguing these boys is like music to my ears."
"You might be on to something, I love belittling them as it is. Imagine I got paid to do it," you laughed. When you walked out the class, you saw Hazel's boyfriend, Frank, waiting for her outside. You waved hello then paused when you saw Percy next to him.
"Oh look who it is," Percy exclaimed. You didn't even waste your breathe as you just turned and walked off towards your locker. Percy quickly rubbed his temples and ran after you. "Where ya going?"
"Anywhere," you said as you made it to your locker to grab your next books. Percy stood off to the side, leaning on the lockers. "What do you want now?"
"To take you out this Friday night," he smiled.
"I'd rather swallow 4 laxatives and a bowling ball and staple my ass cheeks together than be stuck in a room full of intoxicated teenagers," you slammed your locker shut and walked off.
Percy followed after you, "Don't you have the fun vocabulary!!"
"Extensive," you smirked.
"Look, it'll be fun."
"Doubtful."
"Do I need to ask in like, fucking greek or something," Percy pleaded.
"Maybe choose a language you actually know first."
"Μπορώ να μιλήσω ελληνικά μια χαρά," you looked at him wide-eyed. "Why must you continue to doubt me?"
"How do I know you didn't insult me?"
"I don't know, just trust me maybe," you shot up an eyebrow with an amused upside down smile on your face. "όπως είπα, θα είμαι εκεί στις εννιά εντάξει."
"No, to whatever you just said," you chuckled as you headed off to your next class.
﹒º. ౨ৎ
✰ Μπορώ να μιλήσω ελληνικά μια χαρά - I can speak Greek just fine ✰ όπως είπα, θα είμαι εκεί στις εννιά εντάξει - like i said i'll be there at nine ok?
✰Taglist: @liviessun (just lemme know if u wanna be added)
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thenightfolknetwork · 5 months
Note
Hello. I'm, um, not entirely sure how to talk about this. I hope it's okay if I misspeak. I'm a human, right, so I think that needs to be clear more than anything, but I've been very involved in the creature community for years now. I live by a great big lake and I always liked to walk down the shore late at night or early in the morning, you know, just to try and get out of my own head, and one night ages ago I accidentally tripped over someone's jacket and twisted my ankle. It was a gorgeous fur jacket, too, not like any kind of fur I'd seen in a jacket before, but just stunningly soft and thick as Hell.
Now, of course I didn't take it, that'd be awful, but also I had just hurt myself in kind of a nasty way and so it wasn't like I had anything else to do but sit by the shore next to the jacket and waited, and yeah, a few hours later one of the lake seals popped its head out of the water, looked at me for a good long while, and then...well, I mean, you know how the rest of the story goes, I'm sure.
Anyway, it's been a few years now and I've become really close to this family. I didn't really know anyone in my town before meeting them and I'm not on speaking terms with my own folks, so in a lot of ways these people have become my family, and it's an honor that they trust me to keep guard of their cloaks and such when they go out. But I've got this problem, right, and it's just...over the years it's felt less and less like I fit in with other humans. All my friends are nightfolk now, my family hates me even more because they're bigots--in this night and age, can you fucking believe it--and it's just like every night I get further and further away from the shore.
I'm just scared because...I don't *want* to stop drifting away. I've had dreams of joining them down there in the lake, practically every night for months on end. I've tried doing research into methods of joining the community but I don't want to become a vampire, I don't fancy any lunar-aligned nonsense, nothing has felt right except selkies, but I can't decide if I'm just self aware enough that I need a push from an outside viewer to try and accept something I already know full well...or if no, actually, that little voice in my stupid head that won't go away that keeps calling me a fraud, an invader, an appropriator--what if the reason it's not going away is because it's right and I really don't belong?
Just...please be honest with me. Am I a complete asshole for spending hours every day trying not to just outright beg my family--sorry, chosen family--to help me sew myself a cloak, or is there something to this?
First of all, reader, please rest assured. As long as you are speaking from a place of kindness and a willingness to learn, you don't need to worry about using all the correct terminology. I always try to listen generously when people come to me in need, and I encourage our followers to do the same.
Unfortunately I can well believe that bigots like your biological relatives still exist. I'm glad you've been able to extract yourself from their hateful society, and have found comfort, support and kinship among the nightfolk.
You say there is a little voice in your head calling you a fraud, casting doubt on the validity of your feelings. As much as you might want to push it away and stop your ears, I want you to listen to that voice, just for a little while. Pay attention to the language it uses and what ideas it seems to have about the world.
And then ask yourself: is this my voice? Does that sound like me? Or does this sound like a last, desperate, wriggling remnant of the people I've worked so hard to distance myself from?
Every one of us is raised with a narrative, a story about the world and our place in it, and how we should treat the people around us. We're told that story by our parents, by our teachers and schoolmates, by television and books and a million other sources. The story is so vast and so all-encompassing, it takes an enormous effort to be able to see any single part of it clearly.
Imagine, then, how hard we have to work to realise some of that story is untrue, or harmful, fed by hatred and fear. To start untangling ourselves from the rotting, strangling roots of the story we've known all our lives, and start planting something new and fresh and honest.
It sounds to me like this little voice is one of those lingering strands of the story you were raised with – one where liminality is nothing to admire or strive for, and where you cannot be trusted to know your own mind, and your own needs. It's time to tell yourself a better story.
You've found people who honour you with their trust and who make you feel supported and loved, as you deserve. You admire them, and want to be like them. None of this sounds “stupid” to me.
This is not a decision to be taken lightly. By all means, take your time, and talk your feelings through with your family. But I think you already know what story you want for yourself, reader – and for what it's worth, I think the world will be better for its telling.
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appleblueberry-pie · 10 months
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Yandere! Scarface Gojo x afab! Reader who's ovulating and speaks whatever the hell is on her mind.
You could care less about how you got locked up in this beautiful and very isolated cabin surrounded by hundreds of miles of forest trees. And how many times you tried to save your dignity by escaping your captor from hell.
All you could think about was the man in front of you who got into bed with you, shirtless and only in his boxers, getting comfortable. It was silent, and all you could do was.....stare at his.....[very gorgeous body that caught your eyes. But you'd never say that out loud. Or would you?]body.
.............Satoru will admit. It's silent! And you're never silent. He doesn't look at you, he gives it a second before you start calling him very mean names and how his love logic is the worst kind of logic ever and that he should let you go. But it never comes.
So he gives in and turns, a slight smile on his face. But it falters, very surprised.
You have this look on your face.
....he doesn't know what to think. It's so....raw....?
You're staring at him with this look of unfaltering love and trust and....what? Lust? It's almost creepy.
This is a face you only make in his dreams. He thinks back, unsure if he drugged you with something. But nothing comes up.
You haven't scooted away, you're just sitting there, completely turned to him and admiring him.
"Uh....." For once, he doesn't know what to say. "Is there something on my face?"
You actually, like, smile at his joke. Like full teeth and it's gorgeous. And he can't help but mirror your expression.
"That was funny. And yeah, obviously. You got some cute scars on your face. And body." Unashamed, you trail your eyes down to the rest of his body.
Um, woah? You haven't laughed at his jokes since September 20th. He scrunches his eyebrows, really thinking now.
Either this is a joke, or you're trying to find a way to escape again, or someone's holding you at gunpoint.
But he knows no one would find this location, and he'd find them before they would've found you so that's out of the question.
None of the other options matter anyways, he's too impatient to see what else you'd say to him. You got him riled up.
"Oh, yeah?" He sits up a little more, the blanket falls down his stomach, showing his pelvis and legs, intentionally.
You hum in agreement and take this as an offer to trail your gaze even lower. Satoru cocks his head to the side. "What's gotten into you? Tryna escape again, or???"
You look back at him and slowly shake your head. "No, I just.....you look good." You shrug and give him a look of honesty. He's never seen your face so expressive since June 7th(he has videos from before he met you).
(I got tired of writing in bullet format)
He nods and scans your face once more before a smile slowly makes its way back to his face. "You think I look good?" You nod again. "Tell me how." You look away, thinking about it. "I don't know. You, uhh......even though you didn't have any scars before and looked good then," Oh, did he now?? "Your scars make you seem....wiser and hotter, I guess." Your heart was about to pound out of your chest. But it felt so good finally telling him about these pent-up feelings you've had for a few days now. And it's getting harder to ignore the throbbing in your pussy, anyways.
Satoru nods like he understands exactly what you're talking about, his ego suffocating the room. "Oh, I'm glad you shared that with me, baby." He sighs dramatically. "It must've been so hard for you not to communicate that with me, hm? These past few days, I've been in and out of here." You nod, and he smiles. He looks back at you and points to his side. "Come sit closer to me, I wanna feel you. There's also this new movie I want to watch."
Satoru keeps his eyes on your every move, watching as you slowly crawl your way into his arms and melt into them. He doesn't know what the hell has gotten into you but he fucking loves it. Your left hand on his stomach and your face leaning into his chest. Your legs are starting to tangle with his. This is all he's ever wanted.
He can....feel your heartbeat. Fast and hard to control. He can feel....your relaxed body on his. Your body warmth shared with his. Your soft and squishy skin. He's sure you wouldn't mind his hand going under your shirt, right? He doesn't do it, though. He just listens to your raging heartbeat. But he acts like he's ignoring it as he blindly searches through the streaming channel. Suddenly, he hears your quiet voice. "Hm?" He asks, turning his head down to face you. You look up at him with those large, innocent doe eyes that make his cock twitch. "Can i....I just wanna..." the remote almost cracks in his hand as your soft lips press against his neck. So warm and foreign.
Yeah, you're never seeing your family again. You slowly and surely pepper kisses along his neck. His lips part as your hand trails down his stomach and you lean into him more to reach farther on his face. Behind the ear, on the ear, you're getting to his high cheekbone. Your leg is almost draped over his and his heart beats faster.
You make a sound of happiness as you kiss at his jawline, too. But then you stop and Satoru comes down from his happy place, face red and cock straining his pants. "Wh....why did you stop?" You see his face and look confused. "Huh?" He gives you a dirty glance. Animalistic and unrestrained. "Don't stop kissing me." Before you could act on what he said or even comprehend it, he took matters into his own hands.
He firmly grabs your chin and pulls you into a deep, emotion filled kiss. He shoves his tongue down your throat, emptying your mind in the process. You moan into the kiss, which makes him moan too, and you absentmindedly grind into his side, horny and so needy. Satoru wraps his arm around your side and gropes it like it's the only thing keeping him alive. It actually hurts, and you could care less. It makes you even wetter. You wanna take your shirt off. You wanna feel his skin on yours so bad. Your knee brushes against his hard on. Immediately understanding what it is, your eyes open, and you gasp, separating from the kiss.
You look down at it, sparkles in your eyes. It looks so big! You wonder if it can fit? Or if you can ride it? Would he even let you ride it before creampie-ing you first? "Can I help?" Spills out of your lips faster than you can think. You look back at Satoru, who's a thousand degrees in love. Who is he to disagree? "You can do whatever you want, baby. But first, I gotta taste you." You nod, and Satoru has never been a happier man. Hopefully you won't regret your decision in a few more days.
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sluttyitgirl · 8 months
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omgg I completely argee!! I hope you enjoy it! it's a two part story, btw!
JUST YOU AND ME— TREVOR SPENGLER
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pairing: trevor spengler x fem!reader
warning: drinking, language, implications of smut? two part story not really checked but it will be edited for spelling errors
request are open
pt.1 pt.2
"Are we sure this is a good idea?" i ask, lucky as I sit in the passenger seat of her car , putting on the finishing touches to my makeup.
Her eyes were on the road , "Yes! it's better than you being at home in your dark living room watching lame as romcoms!" I gasp , "What the fuck! they aren't stupid?" I argue "they are stupid, and your lame for thinking that its the best way to spend your time on a friday night!"
I roll my eyes irritatedly "hey be grateful I'm even in this car right now? I'm literally debating jumping out, " she chuckles.
"Stop it, you look too good right now to even think about ruining your face after jumping out of a moving car, you idiot." she shook her head.
We approached seemingly to a normal looking home. As lucky and I step out of the car making our way closer to the house, the sound of music grew louder, even louder as we actually stepped into the house. The living room was swirling with teens dancing, talking and drinking, as well as party lights flickering near the dj booth.
"Let's go get a drink -" Lucky shouted over the music before someone came over and wrapped their arms around her. "Lucky!! I'm so glad you could make it, girl!" A blonde haired girl cheered.
"Oh my gosh , Jenny! I wouldn't miss it, " she smiled. "Oh, I see you brought a partner!" Jenny came closer to me and engulfed me in a hug. "Hi! I'm Jenny!" she greeted. I nodded and smiled. "I'm y/n," I introduced.
"Well, feel free to get drinks! just have fun, let loose!" she shouted . Lucky and I smiled and nodded at her energy before she walked away.
"Okay! my goal for tonight is to get you drunk and laid!" lucky said with unusual inthusiasm. "Um... weird goal, maybe tone it down a bit?" I scratch the back my neck.
"Come on, you heard Jenny, let loose!" she smiled, "okay , lucky this whole mood of yours is so unlike you. it's kind of scary. " she rolled her eyes at my statement.
"You're like an old lady - no, you're like my grandma!" she pointed , "What?"
As she proceeded to explain how I was like her eighty year old nana, my eyes wandered around the room before settling down on a tall , lanky , curly haired boy.
Trevor roamed aimlessly around the party. He came with his new group of friends who soon left him to do body shots with two hot brunettes. "Dickheads.." he grumbled as he continued to walk around looking around until his eyes landed on one specific girl. His eyebrows raise as he takes in her features, and her body language. soon she's getting dragged away by her friend.
"Okay, let's see what we have here." Lucky scanned the drink table, "Ah! Vodka?" she looked at me, I shook my head. "All right.."
"Lucky you look for something to drink, I need to use the bathroom, okay?" she nodded before I left her side.
I made my way through the crowd, bumping into a few people here and there and getting pushed around. I got pushed too hard. I bumped I to someone by walking backward.
"I am so sorry.." My words slowed as my eyes met with the same ones from when I entered the house.
He shook his head nervously, "no your good! it's fine, " he chuckled. "Sorry, it's just im not really used to how rowdy it is in here," I laugh. he smiled understandably. "No , yeah, I get it. I'm not either, " he nodded.
I nodded asweel before relaising I should've introduced myself. I put my hand out , "im y/n.." I smile as he takes my hand to shake it,"trevor!" he grinned.
Before we knew it we were getting comfortable with each other and getting to know each other on the couch.
"Your sister sounds so sweet, though?" I laughed , drinking my fruit punch that trevor grabbed for us. "Trust me, you don't know her like I do!" he shook his head in an almost warning way.
"Okay! sorry, " I joke . He looked over at me, smirking as I took another sip of my drink. once the cup left my lips, I noticed the way he was looking at me his brows rose in an amussed way that made me start blushing, "What?" I chuckle , avoiding contact.
he shrugs , "Nothing? you're just pretty, " he said softly. I laugh, placing my head onto the palm of my hand as my elbow rested on the couch. He continued to smile at me amusingly, " Oh my gosh! stop that. " I shout, slapping his shoulder playfully. "im not doing anything?" his mouth twisted.
"Yes, you are!" I roll my eyes jokingly, "what am I doing then?"
"You're making a weird face!" she laughs, "what weird face?" he plays dumb
"A face -" Before I even began my sentence, I felt his lips on mine, unleashing a burst of sweetness and warmth. His slightly chapped lips formed with my soft ones while his hand molded around the back of my neck, pushing me closer to him. Getting kissed by a random stranger would've made me so uncomfortably grossed out, but it was trevor, and I already felt connected with him.
Since he was kissing me so passionately, I decided to get comfortable as well . I placed my hand on his shoulder, sooner having my arm wrapped around him.
"Let's get out of here..." he whispers against my neck before pecking small kisses onto it. I ran my hands through his curls. "Just you and me," he adds.
I would've never imagined what I'd do something like this , and before I knew it, I was agreeing with him , "Just you and me.." I repeated before standing up and taking his hand.
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badasgirlfriend · 6 months
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Street Hearts Connection | Bada Lee Imagine
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pairings: bada lee x fem!reader
genre: fluff idek?!/!/
a/n: i was inspired from the street hearts nyc videos and i thought it was a good idea to make a bada imagine sorry if it sucks i tried my best😭
The host excitedly gestures to the two blindfolded girls sitting at the table, ready to participate in her game of romance and luck. She smiles at the camera and proclaims, "Welcome to Street Hearts where we pair two strangers on a date to find out if its a match or is it a pass"
"Im here with....?"
Y/N clears her throat and responds "Y/N"
Bada can't help but bite her lip at the sound of Y/N's sweet voice "Bada"
"I can already feel the chemistry- LOOK she's blushing and smiling" The host can't help but laugh as she points out Y/N's flushed face and blushing smile, Y/N covers her face out of embarrassment.
"How are you two feeling?"
"Excited"
"Nervous" both Bada and the host laugh at her answer
"Alrighty, let's not drag this on any longer" the host said, with all three smiling. "Let's take off the blindfolds" Bada agreed, as the two girls waited for the host to lift their blindfolds.
Y/N's heartbeat was racing as she closed her eyes from the bright light. She felt the butterflies in her tummy as she wondered what she'll see once she opens her eyes. With her eyes still closed, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. In a flash, Y/N opened her eyes and was stunned to find an absolutely breathtaking woman standing in front of her.
Her face broke out into a bright smile as she took in the gorgeous girl who stood before her, her heart still pounding and her face feeling warm.
Bada was visibly taken aback, her breath hitched as she looked at the girl in front of her, and didn't know what to say to initiate a conversation. are you going She looked utterly breathtaking, Bada was not expecting her to be this stunning. "Hey-fuck Im nervous now too"
Bada couldn't help but laugh, hiding her face with her beanie, her long, dark hair falling over her face. She felt a bit shy and embarrassed, trying to keep her laughter in check.
She looked over at Y/N, and was relieved to see that she was laughing too, just like her.
.·:¨¨ ≈☆≈ ¨¨:·..·:¨¨ ≈☆≈ ¨¨:·.
"How's your love life going?" The host asked Bada, but she had quite the direct answer.
"Dry" was all she could say, leaving little room for elaboration.
The host turned to Y/N, who was listening intently, and nodded along.
"My ex-boyfriend is now gay, and my ex-girlfriend is straight, that pretty much explains everything," Y/N shared with a casual shrug of her shoulders.
"Are you okay, babes?" The host asked Y/N jokingly, putting her hand on her shoulder.
Y/N laughed, rolling with it and nodding along.
"Is that a red flag to you?" The host asked Bada, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
Bada laughed at the question "Well, suddenly I'm colorblind" she said with a smirk. Y/N was glad they were sitting because she would've likely fallen over.
.·:¨¨ ≈☆≈ ¨¨:·..·:¨¨ ≈☆≈ ¨¨:·.
"Who was your first cartoon crush?"
The host asks Y/N, which caused her to groan in embarrassment.
"No, it's embarrassing," She pushed the mic away, not wanting to talk about it.
"Come on, tell us, tell us!" Bada chants along, wanting to hear the secret.
"Nooo"
"Tell us"
"Fuck it- the candle from Beauty and the Beast, I know Im weird"
"I mean I can't blame you," Bada says, grinning wickedly, already anticipating the next question. "He was kinda-"
"Alright alright, moving on," the host interjects with a light chuckle, and Bada grins even wider, "They're literally the same person"
.·:¨¨ ≈☆≈ ¨¨:·..·:¨¨ ≈☆≈ ¨¨:·.
"Physical traits like a good smile and cool style definitely catch my eye, but really, I look for kindness, compassion, and realness in a partner. I want someone who's in my corner, even when we disagree. And I gotta admit, I don't mind if they're a bit weird too" Bada answers with a smile, playfully glancing at Y/N
Y/N could sense that the last part of Bada's statement was about her, and she felt her face heat up with a light blush.
"Smooth, what about you?"
"Someone who's smart, funny, and has a good heart. I need a partner who makes me feel safe, respected, and appreciated you know- also tall.. they need to be taller than me" Y/N said, and Bada stood up.
She took Y/N's hand to pull her close, looking down at her with a mischievous grin.
Y/N giggled and tilted her head up to look at her, realizing what she was doing.
"See? I'm taller." Bada said with a teasing grin and laugh, the host threw the microphone and got up
"You two don't need me anymore"
.·:¨¨ ≈☆≈ ¨¨:·..·:¨¨ ≈☆≈ ¨¨:·.
"What do you do for work"
"I'm a barista," Y/N answered smiling
"Wait, really? Which café?" Bada asks in surprise, now curious to know where Y/N worked.
Y/N chuckles slightly and winks at her "At the SOL café, you should come by sometime"
Bada nods happily, replying with a quick, "Alright, bet,"
"What about you? What do you work?" Y/N asks Bada, and Bada smiles in response.
"I'm a choreographer," she replies, her tone sounding both humble and confident at the same time.
Y/N hides behind the host, gripping her arm tightly while whispering, "She's hot."
.·:¨¨ ≈☆≈ ¨¨:·..·:¨¨ ≈☆≈ ¨¨:·.
"What's your girl dinner?" The host asks, and both girls answer quickly, smiling at eachother.
"Bada," Y/N says with a shy but playful expression, while Bada smiles back with a light blush on her face.
"It could be her"
The host stares in disbelief at the girls answers
"Are you sure this is your first time meeting?
.·:¨¨ ≈☆≈ ¨¨:·..·:¨¨ ≈☆≈ ¨¨:·.
"Okay, now it's time for our Streethearts Sparkboards, where we're going to find out if you would go on a second date with each other."
The host's smile grew wider, her eyes glued on the two girls' writings.
Y/N was quick, writing down what she wanted with ease and glancing over at Bada, who was still writing. If Bada said no, Y/N knew she would never recover from the humiliation and embarrassment. Still, she held out hope that it would work, wishing and praying that Bada would say yes
"One, two, three... Show us your answers," the host commands, as Y/N and Bada quickly turn their Sparkboards around. Y/N can't help but grin a bit wider at Bada's answer
'YES (can i have ur number)'
Y/N nodded and excitedly exchanged her phone with Bada before typing in her number. Bada, looking directly at the camera, winked and smiled.
Some people nearby had stopped what they were doing had watched the whole date
When the host made the announcement, the nearby spectators began cheering and clapping in celebration
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bunni-v1 · 6 months
Note
Hi! For the 500 follower special, can I get L,O,Q and X from the sfw alphabet, for deuce, Lilia and malleus? Thank you <3
🍓I'm powering through the sfw requests, then I'll get nsfw, and then full lists in the same order. I'm so glad so many people requested, I just hope I don't let anyone down with my responses :/
I DROP MALLEUS LORE SPOILERS IN MALLEUS' OPEN PROMPT!!! (NOTHING BIG, BUT ITS MALLEUS LORE)
Deuce
L - Little Ones (how are they around children?): Oh, Deuce LOVES kids. He just thinks they're so cute and sweet and -- ugh, he wishes he had siblings to spoil. Equally, though, he's very nervous around them when he first meets a kid. I mean, they're so little? How are the so tiny and helpless? He just wants to smother them with affection, but he can't cause they might die if he does that.
O - Open (when would they start revealing things about themselves?): Deuce is a pretty open book from the start. He doesn't really have a reason to hide, and if you're his partner, why would he want to hide anything? So, you probably know most things about him before you even start dating, and then he tells you the more embarrassing things later down the line as you get more serious about each other.
Q - Quizzes (how much would they remember about you?): Listen, he's not good with the little things like favorite colors or what your favorite song is. But if you tell him what your favorite flower is, your favorite restaurant? He never forgets it. It goes in the long-term Deuce memory bank, forever categorized as incredibly important, but he has no idea why until he needs the information.
X - Xtra: Deuce is, surprisingly, very good with hair. He used to have to help his mom style hers, so he knows a ton of really cool tricks for styling it. Female, male, non-binary -- doesn't matter, he knows how to style your hair and it's going to feel like a GODSEND to your scalp.
Lilia
L - Little Ones: Lilia's favorite hobby is being a father of three, so it's safe to assume he loves kids. Just everything about them is so darn cute -- their stubby little arms and disproportionate bodies. Oh! He can't get enough. If he could raise a hundred more kids, he absolutely would love to!
O - Open: Lilia, unlike Deuce, is not open at all! He puts on this bright and cheery face so he can hide from his dark and fucked up past. You are the light of his life, his guiding start in the night sky -- he doesn't want you to know how much of a monster he is. It's not until you are WELL SETTLED in your relationship that he tells you about his painful past, the things he's done, and how badly he wishes he could take it all back.
Q - Quizzes: Oh, Lilia knows everything. His memory just seems endless, and no matter if you told him something today or years ago, he would remember it clear as day. Every little detail from the very basics to the intricate ways you go about doing different things, he knows and adores all of them.
X - Xtra: Lilia is very good at gambling -- just hear me out. He's incredibly observant and reads people better than they do themselves. Not only that, he's smart. He can sit down at any gambling game, any kind, even if he's a beginner, and walk away with as much money as he wants. He is a casinos worst nightmare.
Malleus
L - Little Ones: Children make Malleus... nervous. They're very little, and they seem very unaware of things around them, yet they have the confidence and demand of a well-established ruler. It's discomforting. Still, he did help raise (technically) two younger boys, so he does harbor some affection for children, he just has to get used to them for him to really enjoy them.
O - Open: It's not to say that Malleus is NOT open, it's just that he doesn't think to share things about himself. So he seems closed off, but really he's just thinking about gargoyles. He does this... thing, though, where he just... lore drops on you. Out of nowhere, he just "My mother died before I was born, and the love that Lilia gave me was enough to cause me to hatch, therefore, he is the closest thing to a father figure I will ever have." Kay... cool Malleus.
Q - Quizzes: He is so bad at keeping track of time, he will not remember 90% of the things about you. He will, however, remember the most random things. Like he doesn't remember what year you were born, but he knows your favorite character and all their lore. It's because he only cares about the things you care about a lot. If you talk about something frequently, he's going to go out of his way to learn more about it because it matters to you <3
X - Xtra: Malleus has an EXTENSIVE collection of Magic The Gathering Cards (or the test equivalent). He doesn't play the game, he has no idea how it works, but he really likes the collecting part of the whole thing. The art on the cards is pretty, and that was enough to fuel a whole collection.
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iznsfw · 7 months
Note
I'm glad the waterbomb festival doesn't have a mascot, or else I fear we would get IZ writing Eunbi sexy time with it 🤐
All the dirty water canon puns that would be in the fic 🙀:yerivamp:
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We've already lost to a Mcdonald's clown, you can't hurt us with a waterbomb mascot😣(Thankfully there isn't one)
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That's Eunbi cleansing our thoughts with her face of disapproval
That Mcdonald Xiaoting fic has 400 notes by the way so... I guess when horny strikes even Ronald McDonald gets a pass🙊
Have you considered....
It Takes Two to Take On Big and Heavy Things
Kwon Eunbi x Bikini Cups
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Eunbi fixes the cardigan over her body. It can't be called one when it's literally see-through, especially when it gets wet, but it has to be there. To contain them. No, not her tits, but the ones who hold them, the ones who—
"Feeling yourself, Eunbi-ya?"
The left cup of the bra presses to her breast. It molds perfectly to her nipple, almost squeezing too hard. Too sensitive to be surprised, Eunbi muffles a whine.
Are they... speaking?
"Bet you feel so sexy right now," a voice from the right says. Immediately, the fabric of the right cup of the bikini slides up and down the curved slopes of her tit. "You want us to slip down, don't you? So everybody could see what you were hiding all along?"
"No!" she denies. What's there to lie about when her legs already squirm together under her white skirt? "I'm... I don't—"
"Shhhhh."
She shuts up. Wait, why is she following orders from a blue bikini? She doesn't know. It just feels right. Somehow.
"Good girl," the Left says, tightening its hold so that she's forced to press herself against the wall, "stay quiet. No more talking. We only want to hear those pretty moans."
"What—"
The Right's fabric twists around her nipple. She lets out a sharp cry. She begins to shiver—alright, alright, she deserves this. She should be following orders.
"G-gah... please," Eunbi says, biting on her lip. She puts her hand under her skirt for she can't take it anymore. She needs it now. "Please, please, please, please—"
"Alright, you've learned your lesson." Intertwined voices reach her ears and send a plummet of lust through her body. "Touch yourself. We'll do the rest."
The fabric twists and caresses her sensitive, perky tits just as her fingers enter herself. Eunbi's large breasts heave at the stimulation and her fingers tend to their speed, accompanying the pleasure with another kind.
Her breath's tangled in a knot. She can't breathe. Her boobs feel too good, drunk in a high of bikini-induced euphoria. Her hand's in on the fun as it plunges and pulls.
From the Left: "You like feeling cloth pull and tweak your cute nipples, Eunbi?"
"Bet she does." Right. "They're so fucking big it should be illegal. But look at this slut enjoying it all. Go harder, I want to see her cum."
See? They have eyes?!
"I-I-I—ahhhh!"
Her clit practically struggles to keep up with her rubbing as she fiddles it to orgasm. Her shouts echo in the dressing room. The bikini cups are undefeatable with their moves that fondle her chest and suck at all the right places. Her thighs curl together while her head throws back into the wall heavily.
"Good girl. Just keep cumming for us."
"I wonder if Bikini Bottom over— I mean, under there is doing a good job sucking her clit."
"Mind your own business!"
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 6 months
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Vickie had been invited to Steve’s house by Robin, and she was completely nervous. It was a pool party which meant swimsuits. Should she go sexy or conservative? Fuck it, she's wearing a bikini. Over the bikini, she wore a pair of jeans shorts and a floral tank top. Vickie stared at her reflection in the mirror. She ruffled up her hair and pouted, and then she scowled.
"Why I am so pale?!" Vickie exclaimed.
"Once again, dear, I apologize for passing on my genes to you," her father said as he leaned against her doorway. "I like you, so should Robin. Although not in the same way."
"Dad! You have to like me," Vickie rolled her eyes.
"Everything's going to work out," Matthew said and grabbed his daughter by the shoulders shaking her. "You just have to believe in yourself the way that I do."
"I'm starting to regret telling you," Vickie rolled her eyes.
"You know that I'm proud of you, right?" He asked. "And if your mother were still here with us, she'd proud of you too."
"Thanks, Daddy," Vickie said softly. "I just wish I got to tell her."
"Oh, pumpkin, I think she always knew," Matthew told her.
"How do you know that?" She asked.
"She's your mother. Nothing ever got past her," he said. "Now, do we need to do something breathing exercises?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, now what do we tell our anxiety first?"
"To go to hell!"
"Damn straight or in your case not so straight!"
"Daddy!"
Vickie stood in front of the large house and was immediately intimated by its size.
"It's weirdly huge, right?" A voice, and she looked to find Eddie Munson standing next to her. "I always feel like it's going to eat me. You must be Vickie."
"And you must be Eddie Munson," Vickie said in amusement.
"Nah. I'm the guy that ate him," Eddie said sarcastically, and Vickie laughed.
"You're weird," she said. "My dad would like you."
"You should know now, Vickie, that my heart is pining away for someone else. . .just so you don't get your hopes up," Eddie said.
"So is mine," she replied.
"Good, now that that's settled," Eddie told her. "What's got you so nervous?"
"The idea of taking off my clothes," Vickie scoffed.
"Yeah, same here. I've got some nasty scars recently, and they're not quite done healing. Almost. They're ugly as hell," Eddie sighed.
"I've got a scar on my stomach from a car accident when I was little, but I decided to say "fuck it" and wear a bikini anyway," Vickie said.
"That's my kind of spirit. Fuck it," Eddie grinned. "Ready to head inside, my lady?"
"I am now," Vickie said.
The party was in full swing. All of Steve and Robin's friends were here. They were Eddie's friends now, too. Jonathan Byers, some guy named Argyle who Vickie immediately liked, and Nancy Wheeler. Vickie wasn't at all curious that Steve was friends with his ex, as she was still very much friends with hers. Robin seemed to be friends with her, too. There was this bond there that connected all of them, and she wasn't sure what it was, but she was glad they had it. There was this warm feeling of family amongst all of them. The one thing she hated, though, was the fear behind their eyes and the way they all jumped sometimes. Something told her that the bond they formed didn't start from a very good place. It wasn't her story to tell, though, so she wasn't going to pry.
"Whatcha thinking about, Lady Fisher?" Eddie asked as he plopped down in the lawn chair next to hers.
Vickie had gotten tired out from swimming and had decided to sprawl out into one of the lawn chairs. She had started thinking about the way Robin's eyes landed on hers when she started taking off her clothes, and the way remained steadfast on her face as though they were trying not to look anywhere else. It had made Vickie blush and somehow her thoughts had drifted.
"Life," Vickie told Eddie.
"Ah, yes, that bitch," Eddie said and Vickie giggled.
Her eyes landed on Robin and Steve talking animatedly with one another as they stuck their feet in the pool. She could have sworn she saw Robin say her name, and it made Vickie blush. She didn't realize that Eddie was talking to her until Eddie was snapping his fingers in front of her face.
"Hmm?" She asked.
"Is the person you like Steve?" Eddie scowled.
"What?!" Vickie exclaimed. "No."
Eddie turned his head at the same time hers did. His eyes landed on Argyle nearby.
"Argyle?" He asked.
"Well, no, I mean, a little, but I think everyone likes Argyle just a bit. I mean. . .," Vickie trailed off.
"Except for Robin," they said at the same time.
They gasped and slapped their hands on their mouths at the same time. Vickie did not mean to say that, although it didn't necessarily imply that Robin is a lesbian. Still. Wait. . .Vickie removed her hand at the same time that he did.
"You know?!" They hissed.
"How do you know?!"
"She told me!"
"Stop that!"
They stayed quiet for a while. Eddie looked at her thoughtfully.
"If it's not Argyle, then . . . "
Vickie sighed and grabbed his head. She pointed him at Robin. He gasped and then looked at her in annoyance.
"I was getting there," he said defensively.
"Sure, you were," Vickie laughed and released his head.
"Just so you know, I call dibs on Steve," Eddie said.
"You can't call dibs on a person," she said.
"Sure you can. I just did," he said with a grin and rubbed his stomach, wincing.
"Your scars hurting you?" Vickie asked.
"The pain comes and goes," Eddie shrugged. "You're not curious about how I got them?"
"I am, but I'm not going to question it if you don't want me to know," Vickie said. "Besides, I just met you."
"Yes, but I have this feeling that we're like Steve and Robin. Platonic soulmates and what not," Eddie said. "I mean, how do you think they got there?"
"Well, they were in Starcourt together," Vickie said.
"Ooh, so, you think shared trauma? See, I knew about Starcourt," Eddie frowned. "I don't think we have any shared trauma. I mean, I was once in a car accident, too."
"Really?" Vickie asked gently.
"Yeah, my mom died in that accident. I was in the car with her. She threw her body on top of mine," Eddie said, his voice catching. "We were coming back from Indie when this drunk driver came out of nowhere. It caused a pretty bad pileup."
"Was it on the road with the really creepy scarecrow that no one ever does anything about?" Vickie asked.
"Yeah. I guess you heard about it like everyone else?" Eddie asked.
"Eddie. . .I think we have shared trauma," Vickie said, tears in her eyes. "Me and my mom were in that accident. My mom also died that day."
"Shit," Eddie said and moved quickly to hug her.
They were interrupted by Robin and Steve coming over to check on them.
"Is everything okay?" Robin asked.
"Yeah," Vickie said, her face wet with tears. "We were talking about our moms."
"Oh," Robin and Steve said in unison, a look of understanding in their eyes.
"Vickie, do you want to talk more inside?" Eddie asked softly and she nodded.
Eddie put his arm around her as they walked inside. They ended up on the floor of the nearest bathroom, unknowingly recreating Steve and Robin's own special moment. They talked for a while until their bathing suits were very nearly dry. They talked about how wonderful their moms were. Vickie told him how her mom used to read to her at bedtime and how she used to make her dance on her feet when they were dancing in the kitchen. Eddie told her all about how he got his love of his music from his mother even though she never could carry a tune, but she could tell a story like no one else. They talked about how they wished they were still here, how they could tell their moms about themselves.
"My mom would love Robin," Vickie said.
"My mom would love Steve, and she would love the fact that Steve would probably be the one to teach her how to cook. She always hated that she didn't know how to do that," Eddie grinned.
They went on to talk about how they hated the fact that they had to share this trauma, but there was also some relief in knowing that they didn't have to go through it alone. Eddie stood up and clapped his hands.
"Alright, enough of this sad shit," Eddie said and jumped up. "I think we're officially soulmates now."
He put his hand and helped her up, hugging her tightly.
"Definitely platonic," Vickie giggled. "You remind me too much of my dad."
They left the bathroom and found that everyone had gone home.
"How long were we in there for?" Eddie asked.
They headed to the kitchen where Robin and Steve were cleaning up.
"Party's over?" Vickie asked.
"Yeah, everyone got tired really quickly. It was weird how quickly they got so tired," Robin said, and Steve nudged her in the side.
Vickie grinned and pulled Eddie off to the side.
"I just got a great idea," Vickie said.
"And what, pray tell, is cooking in that head of yours, Fisher?" Eddie asked.
"We should ask them out together right now!" Vickie said excitedly.
"Are you crazy?" Eddie asked.
"Come on, we both know that life is short, and we could kick it at any time. They're worth risking it all, yeah," Vickie said. "Besides, they can't reject us if we're coming at them from both sides."
"Hmm, I am not seeing a single flaw in your logic," Eddie said thoughtfully and grinned. "Let's do it!"
They moved back over to Robin and Steve.
"What the hell was that all about?" Steve asked.
"That was our first official platonic soulmate huddle," Eddie said.
"Oh, so, you guys are platonic soulmates now?" Steve asked.
"That's cute," Robin said, smiling. "I mean, you know as in, you know . . . You know what I mean."
"Wait, how are we going to do this?" Eddie asked.
"Well, I figured you would look at Steve, and then I would look at Robin," Vickie said. "Then we ask them."
Eddie shot her finger guns and then leaned against the island across from them. Vickie leaned against the island, looking at Robin.
"We want to know - " Eddie nudged Vickie as he continued to gaze into Steve’s eyes.
"If you guys would like to - " Vickie said, nudging him back.
"Go out with us!" They finished together.
"Well, that was fucking cute," Steve said.
"But I think we're going to have to have a huddle of our own," Robin said, winking at Vickie.
They couldn't move very far away, but they talked quietly for a moment before squealing and then jumping up and down. They calmed down and straightened up while wiping imaginary lint off of their clothes. They walked back over, looking serious.
"We accept!" Steve and Robin exclaimed.
"But you should know that you guys didn't have to become platonic soulmates just to ask us out," Steve said.
"I know. It kind of just happened," Vickie shrugged and grinned at Eddie.
Eddie took her by the shoulders and moved Vickie directly in front of Robin.
"I am handing you my platonic soulmate. Be careful with her," Eddie said.
"And the same to you," Robin said as she pushed Steve towards Eddie.
"Why does this feel like a drug deal?" Steve asked.
"Maybe it's because you're the best kind of drug, baby," Eddie said, kissing his cheek.
"That was a good one," Vickie said.
Steve blushed and squeezed Eddie's shoulder, causing him to wince. That's when he noticed that Eddie was slightly pink.
"Eddie! You're sunburned! I told you to use sunscreen," Steve said.
"I'm a rebel, baby," Eddie winked at him.
"Oh, so you want to get skin cancer?!" Steve exclaimed.
"I smoke too! Do you want to tell me about getting lung cancer?" Eddie scoffed.
"Yes! I only ever had the occasional smoke, and I quit," Steve rolled his eyes.
"Is this how it's going to be? You worrying about me?" Eddie asked with a grin.
"Yes!" Steve said, and Eddie wrapped his arms around him, kissing his cheek. "Plus, I'd rather you not have to use an oxygen tank in between makeout sessions."
"Fair point," Eddie laughed.
Vickie and Robin giggled before sharing a look.
"Dinguses!" They exclaimed.
"Our platonic dinguses," Vickie said, and Robin kissed her cheek, causing her to blush.
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malacandrax · 15 days
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Hi I just wanted to say I love your art sm and you actually helped me get back into drawing a ton, for a while I had this weird idea in my brain that I HAD to draw semi realism/realism otherwise every man I drew would be horribly twinkified and I'd never be able to draw the characters I liked, but I just drew my first ever man I'm happy with in a style that isn't semi realism and a lot of it was inspired by the way you don't always close your lines w lineart and don't use a ton of pen pressure sensitivity and your art comes out incredible. Those were things I always did but would try to stop doing because people told me they were stuff you "weren't supposed to do" and it just ended with me being frustrated whenever I drew and hating my art. But seeing you do it and make absolutely gorgeous stuff really gave me that confidence to just say fuck it and do it anyways and I'm starting to actually get in the flow of drawing again, so thank you :)
This is so so cool! I struggled for About Ten Years with not being able to line in a way I liked, and I’m so glad that my way of doing it is inspirational to someone else! I hope you figure it out faster than I did haha.
Style wise, it kinda just happens, I don’t think many people fit super neatly into boxes anyway, so don’t stress over it, I definitely don’t know what my style is defined as haha! I thought it was semi realism til I googled it HAHA. I copied artists like makani and coey, reapersun and loish when I was a teenager and it definitely swayed my style!
Also I relate extremely to not really vibing with how other artists do lines. For me personally I THINK its because I think in shapes and not lines, and I started out painting and working in tone. Like real life doesn’t have lines, and when you paint it’s generally just varying between soft and hard edges, using the colour and tone to do the lifting for you. It’s way harder to figure out where to put a line, or what things need a line and what doesn't, if you’re not used to thinking that way.
I definitely ink more like I paint, kind of thinking about planes and shadow or overlap more than the outline? Like I draw the top curve of the cheek, then the jowl, then the chin, it kind of feels like cutting a 3D shape out in the space…? But I think that’s why mine are often choppy haha. In traditional art I always preferred a square brush, which carries over to my preference for minimal width variation on tablet.
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Saying that, I *do* sometimes work more with width, though it's still messy and choppy haha. my trick with those is that I always choose a brush that has a fairly consistent minimum width, I can draw with a fairly fixed line, but also press down a little to get the variation when I want it. (As opposed to brushes that kind of go really thin and really thick with little effort, like a brush pen, I just don't have the control...) Below are my main blobby inkers, I can pretty comfortably draw a fixed width face, but I can make it wider if I want.
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Anyway I went off on a tangent, I hope you can make art in ways that feel natural to you! And I hope making art brings you joy!
Some artists I love the lines of are linnea sterte, steven sugar, momopachi, jadenvargen, artharakka, beidak-art, pien-art, wombrion! 
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non-stop-imagines · 6 months
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Red Lipstick Smudged
From this request 💖🤭
Pairing: Esteban Ocon x Black Fem!Reader
Summary: In which you and Esteban just...couldn't wait.
Word Count: ~3.0k words
Warning: Porn with a plot??? (Let's just pretend that's true, car sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it and all that jazz), online translator French, ruining clothing, Very mild orgasm denial but it's still there; Minors DNI!!! 18+
A/N: Whew! I don't know why or how but, uh, yeah. Here this is. This request was a surprising one even though the actual request was simple, I was surprised to see it when it first came in. And what better song to use? 🤣 Now this is mainly based off that second part of Partition (y'all know 😏), but it gave me great smut writing practice so I ain't complaining if y'all aren't. Also, shoutout to 🌶️ anon, you are always just so sweet and kind and supportive and I think like you said, me going and doing something else brought new inspiration for that Carlos fic so, 💋 for you. And thank you to all my anons, with and without symbols, for showing me kindness and being patient with me and checking in on me. Whenever I get those messages it immediately calms my worries because I'm so glad that I have been able to create an environment where we feel comfortable checking on each other. 💖🩷 ANYWAY, happy reading! Hope you guys enjoy! Love you all!! 💖💛💖💛
Translations: Putain, ne me taquine pas.=Fuck, don't tease me; continue, chérie=keep going, darling; Ne pleurnichez pas.=Don't whine; Les yeux sur la putain de route.=Eyes on the fucking road; Regarde, pêches.=Look, peaches.
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   "You look amazing, as always." These words come after your boyfriend gets out of the backseat of the car waiting for you two, politely waving away the driver so he can be the one to open the door for you. After getting in you dab on a bit more lipstick while you and the driver waited for Esteban to get in.
   "Merci, mon amour." You give light greeting kisses to the sides of your boyfriends face and then a very light peck to his lips in an effort not to transfer any of your red lipstick.
   "What was that!?" He sounded mock offended at the briefness of the kiss, obviously desiring something bit more than just a peck from his girlfriend.
   "What? I didn't use the smudge proof one. It's a pain trying to get it off and the color of this one is brighter. I just don't want to get it on your lips." Your thumb swipes at his lips in order to remove the little bit of color that did transfer from the kiss you gave him a moment ago, a gesture to which he instinctively accepts.
   "You know I don't care about getting your lipstick on me." He couldn't take his eyes off of you when you took out a compact to check your lipstick. He loved red on you, and you knew it. That's why you wore the dress and the lipstick. You wanted to drive him absolutely insane at the event you two were on your way to. Wanted to see how long it would take for him to crumble and take you to the nearest secluded place to fuck you senseless.
   "You don't mind lipstick getting on certain places." You click the compact mirror closed and give Esteban a cheeky side eye as you put it back in your pearly silver clutch.
   "What do you mean by that?" He leaned his elbow on the back of the limo seat, his hand pushing back your soft hair that fell out of its place. He then realized you got your hair done, silk press and mildly curled to create soft waves.
   "Do I have to remind you of the times you asked me to put this on before sucking your dick?" The look you gave him was a grave contrast to the words you just said, innocent and adoring.
   "Ah. Can you blame me though? Your pretty red lips wrapped around my cock, leaving smudges, it's a lovely sight." He was trying to play it cool as your hand slowly crawled up his thigh, but he could feel his pants getting tighter, more uncomfortable.
   "Well, the venue is another 45 minutes. I could give you a little show…" Your hands found their way to the hem of his pants, slowly undoing his belt.
   "But the driver…" You were already crawling down between Esteban's thighs and pushing down his pants to expose his underwear more by the time he voiced his concern.
   "Just tell him to roll up the partition." You continue your task of releasing his hard dick from the confines of his underwear, leaving him to instruct the driver in French.
   You couldn't lie. You loved his dick. It was long, which, even though Esteban was tall and skinny so it should be expected, surprised you every time you saw it. It curves toward his belly button slightly, and the mauve tip was already leaking in anticipation. You look up at him through your eyelashes, maintaining eye contact as you kiss the head of his cock and let just the tip into your mouth, popping it back out a moment later.
   "Putain, ne me taquine pas." You flash a pretty smile up at him, knowing you already complete control over him. He would always revert to speaking French when filled with high emotion, or in this case, anticipating the feeling of your warm mouth around his hard cock. You decide to be nice and not tease him any longer, opening your mouth wide to take as much of him as you could at that moment in your mouth, reminding yourself to relax your jaw, hollow out your cheeks and breathe through your nose. You pull back after going just barely halfway down his dick, licking your way up it with a flat tongue to distribute spit and possibly make it easier to get him further into your mouth.
   Esteban's view of you was unmatched. Your eyes would move between maintaining eye contact with him and an intense focus on his dick. Your full red lips were the perfect transition as he watched his dick disappear and reappear from your mouth, and sure enough there were faint red streaks of lipstick along portions of his cock. Your dress had hiked up due to your kneeling position being unfavorable for the fabric of the dress, so the bottom half of your ass was visible. Your hair was desperately out of place, the previous streamline look now slightly puffier, some portions obviously misplaced. Esteban tries to reach to fix it, but you signal for him to wait.
   "I'm sweating so it fucked anyway. Leave it." You suck him back into your mouth, regaining the head bobbing pace you had moments before, and using a hand to get whatever wasn't fitting. Your tongue enjoyed the warmth and texture of his dick, and the pleasure you could see clouding his brain made you hornier by the second. You continued to try hard to get as much as you could of him in your mouth, gagging when the tip reaches the back of your throat, and trying to focus on your breathing to distract you from the sensation. But this didn't stop the excess spit from dripping down your chin and tears from producing, and in your pleasure and concentration, it completely slipped your mind that you opted for regular mascara instead of lashes that night, that was until your boyfriend wiped below your eye and showed you the running mascara.
   "You're wearing mascara. What about the lashes you usually wear?" The sentence came out prolonged and shaky since him promoting conversation didn't stop you from sucking on him.
   "I got a stye the last time, remember? So I decided to give them a break." You had taken him out of your mouth to answer but kept stroking him with your hands, using the lathered spit to make the action easier. Every bit of makeup on your face was smudged, but your innocent eyes looking up at him as you spoke so matter-of-factly brought him unbearably close to a climax he didn't know he was at.
   "Oh. Oh-continue, chérie." You smile again, giggling at the response that you were getting from him, then going back to bobbing your head, mentally competing with yourself, seeing if you could get past your gag reflex to take him deeper. You were taken off guard when you felt the buck of Esteban's hip, succeeding in pressing more of his dick into your mouth, the abrupt action producing more tears from your eyes and for more lathered spit to bubble from your mouth. He fucks your face a couple more times, but when you couldn't take it anymore you remove your mouth and resort to your hands to give your jaw a rest. You were beautiful and messy, satisfied with the work you had done and your facial expressions showed it, and just this sight drove Esteban over the edge. He gave no warning for the spurts of cum that came shooting from his cock, landing on various places of your face and chest, with some of it ending up on your dress.
   "Damn it! You got cum on my dress. I could figure out the hair situation but this…is there anything we can use to clean it up?" You sat back on your heels and examined the splotch, wondering how and if you were able to get it off before getting to the charity event both Alpine drivers were invited to attend. Esteban had his mind on other things though, pushing more of his pants down while you weren't paying attention.
   "To be honest, Pêches, the last thing on my mind is this fucking event. Come here." He takes one of your hands that was tending to your dress and attempts to guide you up to his lap. You were hesitant at first, for what reason you had no idea because after seeing Esteban's lap, slender toned thighs and semi-hard dick dripping reminiscence of cum onto the bottom of his button up, you were quick to straddle his waist, you widened thighs finishing the job of bunching the bottom of your dress at your waist. You almost immediately start rolling your his into his, you covered pussy gliding over him, the wetness it produced soaking through and getting on his dick. 
   The scene of hips gyrating into each other was a drastic contrast to the scene of your two faces observing each other. You scanned down his face, sweat beading around his brows, cheeks flushed and tinged red, and his lips, which you take a moment longer to study, were redder and you could see faint teeth marks in the bottom one. Esteban was still enamored by the messy look of your makeup, accented by a small streak of cum on your left cheek that he goes to wipe away. Your eyes conveyed an extreme amount of love and lust, nonverbally telling him exactly how much you loved him and how horny he made you, and boy, was the feeling mutual.
   Esteban leaned in for a kiss, tilting his head up slightly since you kneeling on the seat made you tower over him slightly. You place your hands on the sides of his face to finish bringing him in for the kiss, purposefully making it sloppy to ensure the red on your lips fully transferred to his. His hands made their obvious way to your ass, gripping each cheek with long slender fingers, riding along as you continued to grind on him.
   "Where are we? Are we close to the venue?" You move from kissing his lips to down his neck, leaving lipstick stains wherever they went. Esteban briefly looks out the windows, then utters something to the driver that he has to repeat since the first time it was obstructed by the rolled up partition. "What did you say?" You were still rolling your hips, finding the sensation almost comforting now, and your lips were swollen from the incessant kissing.
   "I told him to drive past and take us back home. I'll text Pierre later. He owes me for the last time, anyway. Bailed on me, probably for a similar reason." His right hand slid from your butt to your pelvis, and in one smooth motion pulled your underwear to the side and ran two long slender fingers through your folds, having to do little work himself as you continued to move your hips, now focused on the sensation that the presence of his fingers gave. He stops you though, moving his hands to your hips to stop your motions. "Lift up." You do as told, fully up on your knees, sternum at his nose, waiting for his next action. You let a shocked gasp fall from your lips when you feel two long, slender fingers ease into you slowly, sliding in effortlessly from how impossibly wet you were. He pulls them out fully and lifts them to his line of sight, and you watch as he separates the two appendages to show strings of arousal connecting them. "I make you this wet? Either that or you just really enjoy sucking dick." He licks the juices from his fingers and then slides them back into you, fucking into you slowly, waiting for your answer.
   "Both. But only if it's your dick." You wanted to taste yourself on his lips, so you littered them with kisses. Kissing him like he was your only source of oxygen, just so you could taste yourself from his lips. You only stop when a calloused thumb is pressed onto you clit.
   "Good answer." He keeps his fingers going, the "come hither" motion being made reaching spots that you could only dream of reaching with your own. Esteban could feel, and hear, that you were getting wetter by the second, the squelching noises being accompanied by the sticky slickness of your overflowing juices with each thrust of his fingers. The back of the limo had a pleasantly lewd scent of sex that swirled so wonderfully with the combined notes of woodsy vanilla from your perfume and his cologne. He was getting irritatingly hard again and this time the only feeling that could even remotely help is that of your soft warm walls wrapped around him.
   "I fucking love your fingers, Daddy." You moan, moving your hips meeting the thrusts of his fingers and trying to increase the pressure on your clit yourself. But Esteban had other plans, and as you guys ventured closer to the venue, he removed his fingers and hastily grabbed his dick, rubbed the tip along your slit and stuck just that in before placing his hands on your hips to push you down onto it himself.
   "Sounds like you like my dick more, pêches." This was in response to the guttural "Oh my gosh" you let out after having no choice but to bottom out on his dick.
   "You're so fucking deep, I don't-" You move one of your hands from your boyfriend's shoulder to the rear window if the limo, not having to do any work yourself as Esteban guides you down onto his cock and then thrusts you back up with his hips. You were already overwhelmed with how he felt inside of you, stretching you, dragging in and out, hitting your cervix with each thrust that it took you a moment to register the riiippp from the fabric of your dress and the feeling of the damp air on your now exposed boobs. "What the fuck?"
   "Ne pleurnichez pas. I'll buy you a new one." He was hypnotized by the sight of your bouncing tits in his face, your moans a background sound that immerses him further. That is until an abrupt stop of the limo causes him to unintentionally thrust deeper into you, making you scream and let out expletives as Esteban examines the situation. He quickly identified the problem: the partition was only rolled up halfway at that point, so from what he could guess, the driver was so distracted from watching your ass bounce on his cock that he almost hit the person in front of him. "Les yeux sur la putain de route." He instructed quick and angrily before motioning for him to roll up the partition again. "Are you okay?"
   For Esteban, there were very few, if any, views of you that didn't turn him on immensely, and the one he had at the moment was no different. Your breasts in his face, your exhausted, pleasure filled face tilted downward, hair falling forward with your tilted head, just trying to catch your breath and recover from the unexpected feeling you just experienced. "Mhmm. Just a shock."
   "Okay." He continues again slower, using the faces you were making as a gauge for when he could go back to the pace he was at. Somehow everything was timed perfectly, because by the time he reached his previous pace, or what seemed to be faster because now you were starting to chase your own orgasm, the limo had reached the outskirts of the event, still a good amount of people waiting to get a glimpse of whatever celebrity they are able to. "Regarde, pêches. Completely oblivious to you being fucked out of your mind in the back of this limo. Want to give them a show, huh? Want to show them how much of a needy little cock-hungry girl you are?" His threats were empty, knowing that the driver was going to take the next side street to take you guys back home, but he wanted to hear you beg.
   "Nooo…I wanna go home." You could only think about how good Esteban's dick made you feel, and how much better it would be in the comforts of your own home. More room available. Less inhibition. Free to get off however you pleased.
   "Don't worry, Daddy will get you home." You nod at him, but continue to nod as your brain shuts out everything except the feeling of Esteban's cock reaching the deepest parts of your pussy and your own fingers strategically rubbing your clit. You just wanted to cum. Well, more like needed to cum, as you've been so unbearably horny since you saw Esteban dressed in his tux before you two even left the house. "But…" He uses one large hand to stop your little fingers from working your clit while he reversed his hips to fully retract himself from you, hard wer dick, covered in your juices, bobbing close to his stomach. "You have to wait to cum. Until we get home. Then I'll make you cum as many times as you want." He guides you off of his lap, pulls his own pants and underwear back up, and then removes his jacket to give to you, which you take after attempting to cover your chest with the ripped fabric of your silky red dress.
   "You're an asshole, you know that." You mope in your seat as the driver continues back to your place, the surroundings becoming familiar again as you watch out the window.
   "Say what you want, you'll pay when we get home." He reaches for your hand and gives it a brief kiss, his aura sweet, but his threatening promise still looking over you. You continue to avoid eye contact, but he knew that it was all a facade. You just enjoyed acting like a little brat when you guys fuck because you knew it irritated him in a way that made him want to fuck you harder just to shut you up. So, it was even less of a surprise when your other hand reached around to aid in ripping his button up open, buttons flying everywhere.
   "I just had to make it fair. I couldn't be the only one with ripped clothing." You turned to look out the window again, your boyfriend's previous promise echoing in your head. As you neared home you made little annoying complaints here and there, because one thing about Esteban is that he always kept his promises.
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ofallthingsnasty · 3 months
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Pretty please could you do F, H, N, or Y for crocodile one day! I’m curious on your thoughts about him and I love when you talk about him 😭 my new obsession is the pug who he hates but tolerates just for you, so sweet 🥺
Yandere Alphabet letters a, i and q for crocodile hdsjahj anon I'm glad you like my rambles because they are so much fun to write 💕💕 regarding the little dog - don't be fooled, it's 50% him wanting to see you happy and 50% having even more leverage over you 🤭 mean man...
tw.yandere, violence, minors dni
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Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
Uh oh, you might want to reconsider doing that. You call it fighting back, he calls it being an ungrateful, whiny little brat and it pisses him off. There are few things that make his blood boil when it comes to you, and being defiant and insulting him is one of them. Does he know that you’re here against your will? Sure. Does he care? No. You see, he views himself as some sort of provider - he’s giving you a life a million times better than your old one. You’re cared for, well-fed, nicely dressed, don’t have to work - really, your only job is to play house when he’s around (which he isn’t all that often, busy as he is). He doesn't even expect you to fuck him for it, he just wants someone to come home to, who will let him rest his head on their lap and caress it. (Of course, he oh-so-graciously ignores the gigantic power imbalance between the two of you when it suits him, especially when it comes to the bedroom. But generally speaking, I think he can be rather mellow compared to others, can even be reasoned with to a certain extent. Just be good for him.)
He thinks he’s being more than generous, more than fair - for the position you're in. A lesser pirate would have killed you by now, he tells you, would have gotten a new toy already. No, no - he is here to stay, he wants to see you thrive, even.And if you throw it all in his face, spit at him, dare to fight him - oh, what he’ll feel will be beyond good and evil. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, darling.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Okay, good news first: When it comes to Crocodile, I’d argue that the worst experience is really limited to just one. I’ve talked about him physically lashing out at you in a moment of rage and in the weeks that have passed that thought kind of stuck with me. At his core, this man doesn't want to hurt you (deeply). Manipulating you with visual threats and possibilities is one thing, but genuinely injuring you to make you bend to his will? Not really his style. Yes, he does corporal punishments - but only because they’re so effective and can be done so quickly. (A classic action - réaction, if you will.) So, what exactly is that nebulous worst experience? It’s him either using his Devil Fruit powers or his hook on you. To even get to that point, he’d have to be beyond angry with you. It’s probably something that happens early on while you’re not yet acquainted with your new role and you dare to insult him, try to escape - maybe you spiral, his temper simply cooks over and- Trust me, he’ll never do it again. It’ll leave permanent physical damage. But it’ll also traumatize you into submission, which is the only good thing to come out of this, at least to him. You’ll both regret it. And you’ll both learn from it.
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
Spankings. Lots of them. It’s quick, efficient, shows you who is in charge, makes you sit a little straighter, makes you sweeter - he isn’t beyond mind games in general but when it comes to punishments, a quick correction is just more convenient. Manipulation and the likes are the long con, the work he puts in to undermine your self-esteem, to make you doubt your own feelings for your captor. But the spankings are the here and now, the thing that keeps the cat from sharpening its claws on the sofa.
You’ll learn to associate that telltale-look of tired disappointment with a sigh and over my knee, darling. He’ll ask what you’ve done wrong, will make you count, will leave you feeling so small, like an unruly child and not a fully grown adult - it’s a great way to keep you edge, to never let you forget who is in charge here, no matter how much time passes and in how many gifts he showers you.
And if it’s really dire - you get the belt. 
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
I always waver on this one. We know from the story that he isn’t afraid of planning, slowly building, waiting - Operation Utopia was a goddamn mammoth and he has the patience to wait on you for years and years to make it perfect - but. Doesn’t he deserve something soft? Someone to come home to? And what good is all that plotting and lying in wait and watching if he could have had you by that point already?He definitely won’t go ‘alright, that one’s spouse-shaped, put them in the bag’ when he sees you for the first time but he won’t wait too long for you either. Just long enough to gain sufficient intel, to get to know you a little better, to make your disappearance as smooth and seamless as possible. I’m not trying to sound harsh, but not only does he not want to wait too long - there are also other, more important things to do? He can’t spend months upon months learning about you inch by inch, he has an Ancient Weapon to seize and a country to overthrow. You can’t be mad at him when he pulls the plug at a certain moment and simply takes what he wants. It’s really only logical.
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