Tumgik
#turns out it’s not just an expression anymore
gojoluvs · 2 days
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Forever yours.
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⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader
Summary, The only reason why you even agreed to marry him was for your father. Now you wish you could go back in time and reject the offer.
Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating, mean gojo, emotional trauma, manipulation, gaslighting.
Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader. Arranged marriage au! very ooc Gojo, Mean Gojo! CEO Gojo!
Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime I update just send me a message also sorry for the spelling errors I didn’t catch :(
10k words
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You shivered in the cold, your back against your sleeping husband who was blissfully unaware of your discomfort. Your hair was a mess, your nightgown nowhere to be seen, and the small snores coming from your husband were the only sound in the room.
As you tried to get comfortable, you couldn't help but feel a little irritated with your husband. How could he sleep so peacefully while you were freezing?
Your eyes felt heavy as you sat up in bed, not bothering to cover yourself since your nightgown was missing. You grabbed the covers and wrapped them around your body, trying to warm up. Your gaze shifted to your husband, and you couldn't resist reaching out to touch his bare back. His muscles twitched at your cold fingers, and you couldn't help but smile.
"You're freezing," your husband mumbled, his eyes still closed.
"I'm fine," you replied, trying to sound casual.
But your husband knew you too well. He turned to face you, his soft white hair covering his face. "You're cold," he stated, placing a hand on your cheek to check your temperature.
"I'll be fine," you insisted, but your husband could see past your facade.
"Come here," he said, pulling you close and wrapping his warm arms around you. "Better?"
His soft skin against yours made you look away from his ice blue eyes. Staring right at your soul, you cupped his face and said, "Satoru." He stared at you, not saying a word, his eyebrows slightly raised.
"We need to talk," you continued, moving your hand back to his chest and tracing circles around it. Your heart was beating fast, and you knew you couldn't keep up the lie anymore. You were scared of his reaction, but you couldn't hide the truth any longer. You looked back at him, trying to soften your gaze.
"Do you remember how we've been trying to produce an heir to your business?" you asked, your skin feeling hot as your bare breasts were squished between his chest. His hand rested on your waist, and you could feel his warmth seeping through your skin.
Satoru's expression changed, his features hardening as he said, "Yes, I remember. What about it?"
He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as you delivered the news. The temperature of the room suddenly felt much colder, and you couldn't help but shiver. Your heart was racing and you felt like breaking down and crying. The only reason you even got married was for your inheritance and the fact that you could give your husband an heir to his business, and now here you were, breaking the news to him that you might not be able to even carry his child.
You swallowed heavily, trying to keep your emotions in check. His piercing gaze never wavered, and you couldn't help but feel exposed under his intense scrutiny. His beautiful pinkish lips practically begged you to kiss them, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Instead, you looked at his neck and his defined collarbones, trying to distract yourself from the situation.
"Well, my family has a long history of the women in our family struggling with fertility and sometimes experiencing multiple miscarriages," you finally managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. His gaze went from soft to confused, his eyebrows furrowed for just a second before he opened his mouth, closing it with no words to say.
Satoru's grip on your waist tightened, and you could see the anger in his eyes. "You lied to me?" he asked, his voice laced with disappointment and betrayal.
"I'm sorry," you repeated, feeling tears prick at your eyes. "I didn't want to lose you or disappoint you. I know how much your business means to you."
He looked at you confused, looking away from you he stared at the curtains before looking back at you. “So you’re saying you cant get pregnant?” he retreated his hand from your waist, sitting up at the bed you did the same. Turning to look at him you placed a hand on the blanket.
His face twisted into a sneer as he looked at you, his eyes blazing with anger. He pushed himself off the bed and yanked on his boxers, his back turned to you in disgust. "So this fucking marriage was pointless?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom. You flinched at his words, feeling a surge of hurt and anger rise within you.
You sat up on the bed, clutching the blanket to your chest as you looked at him. "Not necessarily," you tried to explain, but he cut you off with a harsh laugh. He turned to face you, his features contorted with rage. He bit his cheek, trying to control his temper as he grabbed his shirt from the floor and pulled it on.
"You tricked me," he accused, his voice low and dangerous. "You knew you couldn't have children and you still married me. What a waste of time and money."
"No, Satoru," you pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes as your husband once again cut you off. You could feel your heart breaking as he put on his sweatpants and turned to face you.
"You lied to me. The only reason we're even together is to have a fucking child and now you tell me this bullshit?" He scowled at you, his words like daggers piercing your heart. You couldn't believe the man you loved could say something so cruel.
Feeling numb, you grabbed the shirt he threw at you and quickly put it on. "Please, Satoru, listen to me," you begged, trying to explain yourself. But he was already grabbing another shirt and putting on his shoes. You felt a wave of nausea hit you and you stumbled, placing a hand on the nightstand to steady yourself. "I never said I'm infertile, I just said there's a chance I might be," you tried to reason with him, but he was already walking out the door.
As you quickly got dressed, you could feel the cool morning air on your skin as you slipped on your underwear. You grabbed a pair of leggings, not even bothering to check if they matched your top, and hastily put them on. In a rush, you grabbed your uggs and headed downstairs, trying to catch up with your husband who was already making his way down.
The sound of your footsteps echoed through the house as you descended the creaky wooden stairs. Finally reaching the bottom, you entered the bustling kitchen where your friends were gathered, talking and enjoying their breakfast.
You searched for your white haired husband and saw him sitting next to Suguru and Shoko who was carrying her baby. “Goodmorning!” Shoko said with a smile, gesturing for you to sit next to her. You smiled back and sat down, feeling a bit uncomfortable as your husband avoided making eye contact with you.
As you started to eat your breakfast, you couldn't help but feel a bit awkward. For a brief moment, you could feel your husband's gaze on you. Turning to look at him, you made eye contact for a brief moment. But there was no emotion in his eyes, just a hint of disappointment.
Shoko handed you a cup of orange juice and took a sip before sitting back next to Suguru. “So, you guys know the walls aren't soundproof, right?” She said with a teasing tone, looking at you and your husband. You looked at her confused, “What do you mean?”
Shoko laughed and grabbed her baby, placing him on her lap. “Oh, don't worry, we couldn't hear everything. But it was definitely loud enough to know something was going on.” She said, causing you to hide your face in your hands.
Embarrassed and flustered, you grabbed your cup and took a long drink of the orange juice, trying to distract yourself from the teasing.
"Oh," You said, feeling a bit flustered. "I didn't realize the walls were so thin." Your husband remained silent, his eyes avoiding yours. Shoko chuckled, "Don't worry, we're all adults here. Plus, it's not like we could hear everything." You nodded, grateful for her understanding.
Suguru smiled mischievously, "But we did hear some interesting noises." Your cheeks flushed even more as you took another sip of your juice. "Well, I hope we didn't disturb your sleep," you said, trying to change the subject.
Shoko shook her head, "Not at all. We were actually up with the baby anyway." She gestured to the little one playing on Suguru's lap. "He's been a bit fussy lately."
You smiled at the baby, "He's adorable." Your husband finally spoke up, "Yeah, he is." You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at his lack of enthusiasm.
Suguru caught your eye, "So, what's the plan for today?" You and your husband exchanged a look before you answered, "We were thinking of checking out the local market."
Shoko's face lit up, "Oh, I love that place! We should all go together." You and your husband nodded in agreement, relieved to have a distraction from the awkward tension.
“Sure, I needed to get some souvenirs for my mother and father-in-law either way,” Smiling you quickly finished your breakfast. Satoru wincing at the mention of his father. Sighing you quickly ran up the stairs, hurrying to change and look a bit decent after your dispute with Satoru.
Everything you thought would happen actually did - Satoru never truly loved you and never will. You were well aware that this marriage was not based on love, but rather on your inheritance and your ability to bear a child. The only reason your husband hasn't divorced you yet is because it is too early, and he is still waiting for your full inheritance to be transferred to his business account. He sees you as nothing more than a means to an end, a tool to secure his wealth and legacy
Brushing your teeth, you can't help but stare at your reflection, feeling broken and worthless. You know deep down that Satoru has always wished you were Jiyuu - his true lover who he could have married and started a family with. But instead, you were forced into this arranged marriage, never given a choice or a chance at true love.
Cupping your hands under the faucet and take a drink of water, you can't help but feel a sense of bitterness and resentment towards your husband. You are nothing more than a pawn in his game, and you can't help but wonder how long you will have to endure this loveless marriage before he discards you like a used toy.
You couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if you had a child with Satoru, if you could even have one. Your whole body ached, not from physical pain, but from the emotional toll it took on you. The constant stress and fear of Satoru's outbursts left you feeling drained and exhausted. Your heart ached, your head ached, and now your body ached. It was as if Satoru's abuse was constantly weighing down on you, physically and mentally.
Grabbing your coat and purse, you couldn't help but notice the lack of lavish gifts from Satoru. Sure, he would give you his card to buy things, but he never had the time to actually spend with you. Your relationship was more of a business transaction than a loving partnership.
You let out a loud sigh as you sat in the back of the Rolls Royce, Satoru sitting next to you with Shoko on his other side. In the front were Utahime and Suguru, the baby happily babbling in his mother's arms. His squishy red cheeks were more noticeable than ever, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy towards Shoko. She bounced the baby up and down in her lap, the little one only squealing with joy. It was a stark contrast to your own relationship with Satoru, and it made you wonder if you would ever have a child of your own in such a toxic environment.
Looking at satoru you tried grabbing his hand, for a quick moment he interlocked hands with you. But then he moved your hand and placed his on his lap.
Feeling rejected and unloved, you turned your attention to the scenery outside. The snowy landscape only added to the coldness you felt inside. Satoru's behavior had become increasingly distant and cold, making you feel like you were nothing more than an inconvenience to him.
Shoko's baby continued to make noises, feeling a pang of jealousy towards your friend. She had a loving husband who adored her and a beautiful baby, while you were stuck with an emotionally unavailable husband who seemed to only care about himself. You couldn't wait to get to the market and get away from Satoru's cold presence.
As the car pulled into the parking lot, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and freedom from Satoru's grasp. Finally, you thought, a moment away from his constant criticism and controlling behavior. Shoko was the first one out, quickly grabbing her baby and putting his coat on. You hesitated, taking a deep breath before getting out of the car. As you straightened your coat and grabbed your purse, Satoru went the way Shoko went instead of towards your destination. An all too familiar feeling of disappointment and frustration washed over you.
Summoning up all your courage, you walked towards him, standing next to him as he watched Shoko with a small smile on his face. "Satoru," you said, placing your hand on his bicep and giving it a small squeeze.
He turned to look at you, his beautiful blue eyes clouded with disappointment and disapproval. "Not now Y/N," he scoffed, shoving your hand off his arm and walking into the market without a second glance.
You couldn't help but feel hurt by his rejection and the harshness in his tone. It seemed like every day was a battle with Satoru, constantly trying to please him and meet his impossible standards.
As you walked into the market, your boots clicking on the hard floor, you couldn't help but wonder how you had ended up with a husband who was such an asshole. But deep down, you knew it was because of your own insecurities and fear of being alone. And as you continued to follow Satoru, trying to keep up with his quick pace, you couldn't help but feel a sense of hopelessness and resentment towards the man.
"Y/N!" Shoko's smile was infectious as she approached you, carrying a basket in one hand and her adorable four-month-old child in the other. Shoko had always been like an angel to you, and you couldn't help but smile in return as you made your way towards her.
“Oh my, here let me take him from you.”Without hesitation, you reached out to take the baby from her, feeling the warmth and weight of the little bundle in your arms. Satoru stood nearby, his eyes following you as you moved around with the baby, while Suguru stood next to him, discussing his latest successful business deal.
The baby squirmed slightly in your arms, his fluffy black hair a bit of a mess. But you couldn't resist running your fingers through it, feeling the softness against your skin. "You're such a cutie," you cooed, scrunching your nose and making funny faces at the baby. His giggles filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and contentment in that moment.
Your husband glared at you, watching intently as you played with his friends' child. The way your eyes lit up when he laughed and how you made cute faces at the child. For a split second, Satoru felt a warmth in his stomach, a warmth that crawled all the way up to his heart. He quickly pushed it away, reminding himself that this was not his child, nor was it his wife's.
He resented you for being forced into this marriage, and he saw you as nothing more than a duty to fulfill. But as he watched you with the child, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. You seemed so natural and happy with the baby, something he never saw from you when you were alone.
Tucking a hair strand behind your ear, you grabbed the baby and bounced him as you walked, grabbing the things Shoko needed for the outside barbecue you were going to have later. Satoru's heart clenched as he watched you with the baby, noticing the way you instinctively knew how to care for him. He couldn't help but wonder if you would have been a better mother to his children than he could ever be a father.
As he stood there, watching you and the baby, Satoru felt a sense of longing for a life that could have been. A life where he married for love and had children with a woman he adored. But instead, he was stuck in this arranged marriage, resenting his wife and feeling nothing but bitterness towards you.
But in that moment, as he watched you with the child, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for you to have a real marriage, filled with love and children. Maybe, just maybe, he could learn to love you as he watched you become a mother.
"Toru, come and help your wife," Shoko said sternly, her gaze fixed on Satoru who stood there motionless, staring at you. You looked up from the baby in your arms, meeting his eyes that were filled with regret. For a brief moment, his gaze softened before he put up his usual facade.
He walked towards you and grabbed a pack of green beans and corn, tossing them into the small basket Shoko carried. As you all walked around the market, the baby fell asleep in your warm embrace. His tiny breaths were audible over the bustling noises of people talking and vendors selling their goods. For a moment, Shoko disappeared from your line of sight, leaving you and your husband alone.
Satoru's eyebrows furrowed slightly as he placed a hand on the baby's cheek, gently squeezing it. The softness in his touch and the fondness in his eyes showed a side of him that you rarely saw, making your heart skip a beat.
“Hes cute isn’t he?” You asked staring at your white haired husband. His hair covered his face slightly and his veiny hand combed his soft hair. “yeah he is.”
Smiling at him you were about to say something opening your mouth before arubtly closing it. Walking around for a little while you grabbed everything Shoko told you to grab. The baby fast asleep in your arms earning a few glanced and aws from the strangers in the market.
You stood at the meat aisle, waiting for your number to be called. Tapping your foot impatiently, you bounced the baby side to side. You weren't really fond of babies, but this one just had a special place in your heart. He was the son of your husband's sister, whom you were babysitting for the day.
As you fixed the baby's coat that was slipping from him, you smiled once again. The baby's presence always seemed to brighten your mood, especially in the midst of your tumultuous marriage. Your husband, Satoru, stood next to you, placing a hand on your waist and pulling you closer. It was a small gesture, but it made you feel slightly better about your situation.
Suddenly, a random lady appeared beside you, smiling at the baby and complimenting his looks. "Oh my god! What a cute baby you got there," she whispered slightly so as not to wake him up. Satoru's grip on your waist tightened, and you felt a small sense of protection from him.
"Well, he's not really mine," you said in a low whisper, feeling a pang of sadness as you remembered that you and Satoru were struggling to have a child of your own. The lady probably didn't hear you because she ended up speaking about how beautiful the baby looked and how he resembled Satoru.
As she continued to gush over the baby, you couldn't help but feel a slight shift in Satoru's attitude towards you. He had always been cold and distant, but as he listened to the lady's compliments and advice, you could see a hint of softness in his eyes. Perhaps, for a brief moment, he saw you in a different light.
Before the lady left with her meat, she turned to you once again and smiled. "You know the trick to get them to sleep is giving them a warm bath before, they really knock out." She then took out her ticket and grabbed her meat before leaving.
You looked up at Satoru, and for the first time in a long time, you saw a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, this baby was bringing you and Satoru closer together. And for that, you were grateful.
"Here, let me carry him," your husband offered, his voice gentle and understanding.
"I can handle it," you insisted, trying to ignore the way your hands were trembling. But your husband didn't budge, and you knew he was right.
You couldn't help but soften your eyes at him as you slowly placed the baby in his arms. He cradled the baby with ease, making him look even more attractive than before. You felt a warmth spread through your body, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach.
If it wasn't for the small amount of self respect you had for yourself, you would have jumped on your husband right then and there. But you couldn't deny the way his words from last night still lingered in your mind, making your cheeks feel hot. You remembered the way he filled you up and whispered that you would be a hot "mommy." You shook your head, trying to push away the dirty thoughts.
As you walked out of the store with your husband, you grabbed the meat and headed towards the front of store. Shoko stood there, her face full of worry. "What's wrong?" you asked, concerned.
"I was just worried about you and the baby," Shoko replied, her eyes scanning over the both of you. "But it looks like you have a great support system here," she added, a small smile creeping onto her face.
She quickly pulled the baby close to her chest, trying to soothe their cries. You watched as she struggled to balance the bags in her free hand and carry the baby at the same time. Feeling guilty for not helping, you offered to carry the bags for her. As you reached for them, Satoru appeared behind you, his warm body pressing against yours.
You could feel his chest rising and falling, and his warm breath tickled your ear. "I can take it from here," he said in a low, husky voice. Taking the bags from your hands, he tilted his head and placed a small, wet kiss on your neck before walking towards the car.
You stood there, completely stunned, as he continued to walk without even sparing a glance your way.
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As you walked out onto the porch of the snowy cabin, the serene surroundings greeted you. The sound of music drifted through the crisp air, accompanied by the smell of barbecue cooking on the grill. You couldn't help but smile as you saw your friends chatting and laughing with each other. You were dressed comfortably in shorts and a warm hoodie, with tan tights. Underneath your clothes, you wore a bathing suit, just in case you decided to take a dip in the nearby hot tub later on.
Suguru, carried his young child in one arm and a beer in the other. You plopped down on the couch next to your friends Utahime and Shoko, both of them sipping on cold cans of Mike's Hard Lemonade. As you settled in, you stretched your sore muscles and straightened your back, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. You watched your husband talking with Suguru, their conversation interspersed with sips of their beers. Despite the cold weather, they both seemed content in their conversation.
As you sat in the dimly lit couch, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy towards Jiyuu. You desperately wanted to know the background between her and your cold, reserved husband, Satoru. What could someone like Jiyuu have that made Satoru fall head over heels for her?
You grabbed a cold Mikes from Shoko and took a drink of the sweet strawberry liquor. "Shoko," you turned to your friend, "how close were Jiyuu and Satoru? And please, don't spare any details. I want to know everything."
Shoko raised an eyebrow and turned to look at your other friend, Utahime, before turning back to you. "Well, they started dating when Satoru came to work at his father's company," she said, grabbing some fruit and taking a bite of the juicy pineapple before offering you some. "They were always together, even outside of work. It was like they were inseparable."
"Then I know they dated for a long time, but they kept it a secret because his father didn't approve of their relationship," she said, her gaze shifting to your husband who was laughing with Suguru.
"Didn't approve of what?" You asked curiously, propping your legs up on the couch and wrapping your hands around them.
"Well, I know that Jiyuu's mother stole money from his father's company," she replied, her lips going into a thin line. "I don't really know much since I wasn't particularly close to Satoru at the time."
"Wow, that's quite the scandal," you replied, intrigued by the conversation. "But why did his father care so much about who Satoru dated?"
Shoko sighed, her expression turning serious. "Well, you see, Satoru’s father is very traditional and believed that Satoru should only marry someone from a wealthy and respectable family. Jiyuu's mother's actions brought shame to their family and his father didn't want Satoru to be associated with that."
Grabbing your necklace, you began to play with the cold gold, your fingers tracing the intricate pattern. "She eventually got fired since she also worked at his father's company, but once Satoru took over, he instantly hired her to be his secretary," Utahime explained, rolling her eyes at your husband.
"I never liked that Jiyuu girl," Shoko chimed in, nodding in agreement. "She's too...well, you know what I mean." She paused, her eyes flickering to the floor for a split second.
You stared at your husband, admiring his strong physique as he flexed his muscles under his black compression shirt. Your heart ached with desire to be close to him, to feel his warmth and comfort. But at the same time, there was a sense of pain and unease that lingered in your mind. You couldn't understand why there were days when he treated you with love and kindness, only to suddenly become cold and distant the next.
Lost in your thoughts, you fell into a heavy silence as you pondered the recent events. It was hard to comprehend how much Satoru must have loved her to go through the trouble of rehiring her as his secretary, despite the complications it brought to his relationship with his father. But at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of pain in your heart whenever you thought about your past lover, Toji. It was a pain that you couldn't explain, especially since you weren't even thinking about him at the moment.
As you sipped on your strawberry lemonade, mixed with a generous amount of alcohol, your mind drifted off to another scenario. You thought about Jiyuu, and how she must have suffered when she found out that her lover was unexpectedly getting married. The thought of her pain and heartache made you feel a sense of sympathy and understanding towards her. It was a reminder that love could bring immense joy, but also unimaginable pain.
You knew that feeling all too well, the feeling of getting abandoned and trashed by someone you loved. You had watched as she fell head over heels for him, the man she probably spent so much time with and spent imagining the life they would have in the future. Feeling sick to your stomach, you got up from your spot on the couch and stumbled towards the bathroom, ignoring her frantic calls for you to come back.
Passing through the living room and kitchen, you finally found the small white and blue bathroom. You threw yourself onto the cold tile floor, leaning over the toilet as you emptied the contents of your stomach. Your body shook with sobs as you realized the gravity of the situation - you had ruined everything. You had ruined this relationship, ruining the future Satoru could have had with her.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about how selfish and impulsive your actions were. You couldn't believe that you had let your own insecurities and fears destroy something so beautiful. You felt like such a shit person, and you knew that the guilt and regret would haunt you for a long time to come.
As you sat there, trying to hold back your tears, you couldn't help but think about how much your life had changed since your father had arranged for you to marry Satoru Gojo. You should have said no, or even run away from this forced marriage, but you were too afraid to go against your father's wishes. Now, as you sat on the cold floor, tears streaming down your face, you couldn't help but feel trapped and suffocated by this marriage.
The constant arguments and lack of love between you and Satoru had taken a toll on you, and you were exhausted from trying to make it work. You couldn't help but think that maybe Satoru would be happier with Jiyuu, who he had always loved. As you cried, your vision became clouded with tears, and you wiped your mouth with a piece of tissue. The cold floor beneath you only added to the physical and emotional pain you were feeling. You placed your hands on your thighs, feeling the tears dropping onto them, and you couldn't help but wonder how much longer you could endure this loveless and unhappy marriage.
You felt like a failure you felt like you were unable to be loved, to feel loved by someone else. Toji was long gone and now u were stuck in a marriage with Satoru who didn’t want anything to do with you. You felt like your body was slowly dying, your heart racing as you cried. You felt useless, like a piece of trash.
Closing your eyes you sat on the cold floor of the restroom, flushing the toilet you just stared at the floor. You didnt even want to live anymore, your life was a failure and you were a failure. The only person who understood you was gone, probably in love with someone else.
Your moment of silence was interrupted by a loud knock on the door, and you felt a surge of annoyance as you tried to compose yourself. You had been crying, and your husband knew it. He always knew. As the door slowly opened to reveal your white-haired husband, you couldn't help the feeling of resentment bubbling up inside you. He looked at you with a slight bit of concern, but you knew it was all just an act.
"Are you okay?" he asked, closing the door behind him before crouching down to your level. You held your breath, trying to make it sound like you weren't just bawling your eyes out a second ago.
"I'm fine," you hiccuped, your mascara ruined and smudged all over your face. Your husband sighed and got back up, grabbing your arms and lifting you up. He propped you up against the sink, the cold porcelain sending shivers down your spine.
"You're a mess, Y/N," he said in a whisper, grabbing tissues to clean up the tears streaming down your face. You stared at him with a mixture of resentment and admiration. Yes, he may be beautiful, but that didn't change the fact that he was the reason you were crying in the first place. You pushed him away, placing a hand on his chest.
"Satoru, stop pretending you care about me," you said bitterly, your eyes full of betrayal as you glared at your husband who remained unfazed. He casually opened the cabinet next to you, grabbing a pack of makeup wipes and opening it without a second thought.
"Y/n, I do care. You're my wife," he said, placing a hand on your chin and tilting your face up. He grabbed a wet makeup wipe and began wiping your eyes, trying to remove the mascara that had stained your cheeks.
You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as his blue eyes stared back at you. But you knew it was all a façade, a facade that he had been keeping up since the day you got married. "I'm sorry, I know I wasn't the woman you wanted to marry, Satoru," you said, avoiding his gaze as he continued to clean your face.
He didn't say anything, he was quiet. Only helping you off the counter, he threw away the trash and asked if you had thrown up. You nodded, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. He sighed and grabbed an extra toothbrush for you, handing it to you with instructions to brush your teeth and take some mouthwash.
As he stood next to you, his eyes bore into you with disdain. You could feel his distaste for you, even as he silently watched you do what he had instructed. You couldn't help but feel like a burden, knowing that your husband didn't truly care for you or want to be with you. You knew deep down that he only married you for your family's wealth and status.
“I'm sorry,” you said again, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew he didn't like when you apologized, but you couldn't help it. You always felt like you were walking on eggshells around him, trying to please him and make him happy.
“Stop apologizing Y/N, let's go back,” he said, his tone cold and dismissive. As he pulled you into a hug, you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for the warmth and love that was lacking in your marriage.
As he opened the restroom door and turned off the light, you interlocked hands and followed him back to the patio. All eyes were on you as you returned, and you could feel the judgment and pity from your friends and family. Your friend Utahime rushed up to you, her expression full of concern.
“Oh my god! Y/n are you okay? What happened?” she asked, looking between you and your husband. His grip on your hand tightened, a silent warning for you to keep quiet.
“I just felt a bit sick, I'm sorry. I feel much better now,” you forced a lazy smile, trying to downplay the situation. Utahime smiled back, but you could see the worry in her eyes.
Grabbing your back Utahime took you from Satoru’s grasp. Your husband staring at you as you walked away with your friends. “How about that hot tub we were talking about yesterday?” Nodding you followed her to the tub, Shoko already inside with Suguru, both of them deep in conversation before turning to you.
You took off your clothes, your black bikini showing. Climbing into the tub you dipped your feet inside, the warm water playign around with your feet. Putting your whole entire body into the hot tub you instantly felt relaxed. Your muscles loosing up on the warmth of the water.
The steam from the hot tub quickly enveloped the two of you, making the chilly air more bearable. Your husband reluctantly followed you, his shirt quickly discarded and replaced with a pair of baggy shorts that were handed to him by Suguru. You couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort as your husband joined you, his eyes roaming over your exposed body.
As you leaned back and rested your head on Utahime's shoulder, she gently squeezed your thigh in a comforting gesture. "I missed you too, y/n," she said, her long dark purple hair cascading over her shoulders. "I miss the carefree days of college, before we were tied down by marriage and responsibilities."
You let out a wistful sigh, nodding in agreement. "The parties were the best part," you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.
But Utahime seemed oblivious to the tension between you and your husband, her eyes lighting up as she continued to talk about the parties and adventures you had together. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy towards her carefree attitude. You missed being able to let loose and have fun without worrying about the consequences.
“Oh my god Y/n,” Her eyes lit up, a smile creeping onto her beautiful face. “Do you remember when we snuck out of our dorm room to go to the frat party?” She giggled playfully shoving your shoulder.
The cold air filled your lungs, the hot water making the atmosphere feel safe, “And then we got caught coming back? How could I ever forget.” You said smiling back at her. Handing you a glass of wine you hesitantly took it taking a sip of the red wine.
"If I remember correctly, that's where you met Toji, right?" She asked, tilting her head with a slight smirk creeping onto her face. Satoru turned to her, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"Yeah," you replied, taking a gulp of wine. The liquid went down your throat, and you let out a satisfied sigh.
Satoru continued to stare at you, his eyes glaring. He couldn't understand why you would bring up your ex-lover, especially when he was right there next to you.
"You and Toji were so cute together. It's such a shame you had to break up," she giggled, tilting her head towards your husband who narrowed his eyes at her. You could feel his anger radiating off of him, but you simply took another sip of your wine, not wanting to engage in the conversation.
"Hey, that's enough, Hime," Shoko chimed in, shaking her head at your friend. You could see the tension in the room, and you knew it was time to change the subject. "Let's talk about something else," you said, trying to diffuse the situation.
As you lounged in the hot tub, the night seemed to stretch on forever. You laughed and joked with your friends, but every now and then, you caught your husband smiling at you. It was a rare sight to see, as he usually kept his guard up and his emotions hidden. But in that moment, it felt like he had let his barriers down and allowed you to see the real him, the man you could potentially fall in love with. His icy blue eyes were intense as they locked onto yours, his slightly damp hair sticking to his forehead.
One by one, your friends had left the hot tub, needing to get up early the next morning. And now, it was just the two of you, the air thick with unspoken tension. You couldn't help but admire his physique as water droplets cascaded down his collarbone, the muscles of his chest defined and chiseled. With each breath he took, his chest would rise and fall, his gaze practically devouring your body. His lips were a soft shade of pink, glistening with water and looking oh so tempting.
You sat next to him, feeling the warmth of his body beside you. He had his arm resting on your thigh, and you couldn't help but scoot closer to him. "You look good," he said, his eyes admiring your figure. It was the first time you had ever heard him compliment you sober, and it made your heart flutter.
His hand traced through your thighs under the warm water, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, his hand rode up to your bathing suit bottom, the two small bows on the side the only thing holding it together. You held your breath as his fingers grazed your skin, aching for his touch.
"You too," you whispered, unable to take your eyes off of him. The snow continued to fall outside, the weather dropping slightly, but you didn't care. The warmth between you and your husband made the cold disappear.
Suddenly, he grabbed the bottom of your bathing suit and pulled you on top of him. You straddled him, feeling his hard body against yours. He placed his long and veiny hands on your waist, giving it a small squeeze. "You packed a bathing suit?" he asked, his hands tracing up the sides of your hips.
Nodding, you let out a small "Mhm," placing your hand on his hair and began massaging his soft locks. You could feel the tension between you melting away as you gazed into each other's eyes. In that moment, nothing else mattered except for the two of you and the love you shared.
The hot tub bubbled, heat radiating off it. Stroking his hair back you gave him a slick back, revealing his full face to you. “I like you with this hairstyle,” You smiled slightly, his hands still on your waist. Pulling you closer you felt the tension between you, the same tension you felt at the market.
"Thanks," he replied, his voice low and husky. His fingers traced circles on your lower back, sending shivers down your spine. You leaned in closer, your lips just inches from his. The steam from the hot tub enveloped you, making the moment feel even more intimate.
"You know, I've always loved your hair," he whispered, his lips grazing against your ear. "It's so soft and silky."
You couldn't resist any longer. You closed the gap between your lips and his, the kiss starting out slow and gentle but quickly turning into a passionate embrace. Your hands roamed over each other's bodies, feeling the heat and desire building between you.
As the kiss deepened, you felt his hands move down to your hips, pulling you closer until you were sitting on his lap. You could feel his hard body against yours, the warmth and strength of it making you melt even more.
"I can't get enough of you," he murmured between kisses, his hands now roaming under your bathing suit. You let out a soft moan as his fingers traced over your skin, igniting a fire within you.
His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses as his hands continued to explore your body. You couldn't help but arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him, wanting to feel every inch of his body against yours.
"God, you're intoxicating," he whispered, his lips now grazing over your collarbone. You let out a soft gasp as his hand slipped under your bathing suit bottoms, his fingers teasing and tantalizing you.
You couldn't deny the intense desire coursing through your body as he continued to touch and kiss you. Every touch, every kiss, sent shivers down your spine, driving you wild with need. "Please," you moaned, your voice filled with desperation.
He chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through your body. "Impatient, are we?"
"No, just eager," you panted, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as he trailed hot kisses down your stomach, his fingers still working their magic between your legs.
He chuckled again, his breath hot against your skin. "I love how you can't get enough of me," he whispered, his voice dripping with desire.
You couldn't help but moan as he moved his lips back up to yours, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated kiss. The hot water of the tub only added to the intensity as your bodies pressed together, the heat and steam fogging up the surrounding windows. "I want you," you gasped, your body arching into his touch.
He grinned, the dim light from the candles casting a seductive glow on his face. "You have me," he growled, before claiming your lips once again.
Despite the risk of getting caught, the thrill of being fingered by your husband while your friends were fast asleep in the cabin was too exciting to pass up. Satoru's long, slick fingers expertly pumped in and out of you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You bit your lip to muffle your moans, trying to stay quiet so as not to wake your sleeping friends. But your husband enjoyed seeing you struggle and squirm under his touch, relishing in the control he had over your pleasure.
As his fingers curled inside of you, hitting all the right spots, you couldn't help but place your chin on his chest and wrap your arms around his neck, giving in to the pleasure. "Fuck, Toru," you moaned, feeling his hardened cock pressing against your pussy through his boxers.
He groaned in response, encouraging you to grind against him even more. As you moved your hips, rubbing against his swim shorts, he continued to finger you faster and faster, his thumb swirling over your sensitive clit. The combination of his skilled fingers and your own movements had you on the verge of ecstasy.
But as much as you wanted to have sex with your husband right then and there, the thought of your friends potentially catching you in the act made you hesitate. You bit your lip once again, trying to hold back your moans as his long fingers continued to work wonders inside of you.
As you felt yourself on the brink of orgasm, your body started to twitch and your husband noticed, sensing that you were close. He smirked and removed his long and slick fingers from you, earning a loud gasp from your lips.
You looked up at him, confused by his actions, but he just smiled and said, "We should go to sleep. We have to wake up early in the morning." Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, he got up from the hot tub and headed inside, leaving you alone in the warm water, your mind still reeling from the unexpected interruption. As you watched him walk away, you couldn't help but admire the outline of his hard dick through the wet fabric of his swim trunks.
He grabbed one of the towels from outside and disappeared into the house, leaving you absolutely dumbfounded and wanting more, but also feeling a sense of disappointment that the moment had ended.
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Your anxiety was palpable, causing you to tap nervously on the side of the chair as you waited for your friend Shoko to come back.
Your heart was beating faster than ever, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you. The first thing you did when you got home from the trip was schedule an appointment with your friend, who happened to be an endocrinologist. You needed answers, and you needed them now.
Staring at the floor, you could practically feel your heart beating out of your chest. The smell of bleach and alcohol filled your nose, causing your nostrils to flare. Satoru had told you earlier that day that he would unfortunately not be able to come with you to your appointment. Despite everything that had happened at the cabin, he was still the same. Acting as if nothing had ever happened that day, and it left a bitter taste in your mouth.
Your body felt tense, it felt like hours had passed since they had drawn your blood and taken it to the lab for testing. The anticipation and unknown of whether or not you would be able to have a child weighed heavily on you. As you sat in the sterile doctor's office, nostalgia hit you like a ton of bricks. You couldn't help but remember the last time you were in this position, but it was with Toji.
After this, you were going to head to Satoru's work, hopefully to deliver him the good news. Biting your lip anxiously, you stood up and paced back and forth in your apartment, your feet making a small tap noise with each step you took. Turning to look at the clock, it felt as if seconds had turned into hours. You were anxiously waiting for Ieri to come back and tell you your results.
But as the time ticked by, doubts started creeping into your mind. What if you weren't infertile? Would things go back to how they were and Satoru would just constantly ignore you? And if you were infertile, would Satoru divorce you and leave you? Your eyebrows furrowed, you didn't want him to leave.
You hated that you were starting to fall for him. His warmth in the morning and that stupid smile of his were starting to grow on you. The thought of not being able to carry his child made your heart ache. You wanted to be a mother, and a damn good one at that.
Ieiri walked into the room, her posture straight and her face expressionless. As she approached, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you. You knew that this was the moment you would find out if you were infertile or not.
"Okay, we got the lab's results back," she said, her tone professional and matter-of-fact. Flipping through the documents in her hand, the sound of paper crunching filled the tense silence in the room. You couldn't help but feel impatient, desperate to know the verdict. Could you have children of your own or not?
Finally, she looked up at you with a look of sympathy in her eyes. You knew what that look meant. Your heart sank as she avoided your gaze and closed the document. "Y/N, I'm sorry to say that your chances of having a child are quite low," she said, her voice gentle but tinged with sadness. She grabbed a chair and placed it in front of you, hesitating for a moment before sitting down.
You felt a lump form in your throat as the reality of your situation hit you. You had always dreamed of having children of your own, but now that dream seemed even further out of reach.
"So you're saying I can't get pregnant?" Your heart shattered into a million pieces, your dreams of starting a family with your partner, Satoru, fading away. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over.
"I'm sorry, Y/n," Ieiri sighed, placing a comforting hand on your thigh. "It's going to be hard for you to conceive. It's practically impossible for you to get pregnant."
Your vision blurred as you tried to hold back your tears. "But why? What's wrong with me?"
"It's a combination of factors, such as low ovulation and hormonal imbalances," She explained gently. "And even if you were to conceive, there would be a high risk of miscarriage."
Feeling devastated, you turned away from her and grabbed some tissues to wipe away your tears. "Is there anything I can do? Any treatments or options?"
She nodded, turning around to grab some papers. "Yes, here are some treatments that have been proven to help women like you who have a low chance of getting pregnant. I suggest you talk to Satoru about this, Y/n."
Grabbing the papers you took them into your hands, tears falling onto the paper. “Thank you Shoko,” You smiled wearily at her getting up and grabbing your things. “Just please and come and see me once you choose what to do okay? I can help you Y/N.” Smiling you thanked her before walking out of the room.
The sobs wracked through your body, causing you to double over in pain. Your hands trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your heart breaking. You had known this day would come, but it didn't make it any easier. You had always dreamed of becoming a mother, of holding your own child in your arms and loving them with every fiber of your being. But now, as you sat alone in your car, you were reminded once again of the cruel reality that you could never have children.
The doctor's words echoed in your mind, a sentence that felt like a death sentence for your dreams of motherhood. You wiped the tears from your eyes and started the car with a small click, the engine roaring to life as you drove out of the medical center and towards your husband's workplace. As you drove, you couldn't help but imagine how different your life would have been if you could have had a child.
The weight of the world seemed to crush you as you sat alone in your empty room, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't believe it - first, your arranged marriage fell apart, and now this. You had been trying for years to have a child, and just when you thought it might finally happen, you received the devastating news that you would never be able to conceive. The pain was unbearable, and you could feel your heart shattering into a million pieces.
All the hopes and dreams you had for a family of your own were now gone, replaced by a deep sense of loss and emptiness. The thought of never being able to experience the joy of motherhood, to hold your own child in your arms, was too much to bear. You let out a gut-wrenching sob, feeling the weight of your sadness and disappointment overwhelm you.
You had held onto that last ounce of belief, that glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you would be able to conceive. But now, that belief was shattered, leaving you with nothing but pain and despair. The future that you had envisioned for yourself was now gone, and you were left to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart.
As you cried, you couldn't help but feel like your life was falling apart. Everything you had ever wanted seemed to slip through your fingers, leaving you with nothing but an overwhelming sense of grief and loneliness. It was a pain that words couldn't describe, and you wondered how you would ever be able to move on from this devastating blow.
In that moment, it felt like your world had collapsed onto you, barely hanging on by a thread. You were drowning in a sea of emotions, unable to find a way out. All you could do was let out your tears, hoping that somehow, the weight of your pain would lessen. But deep down, you knew that this pain would never truly go away - it would always be a part of you, a constant reminder of the dream that would never come true.
You quickly made your way to the building, hastily parking your car and slamming the door shut. With shaking hands, you pressed the car door keys, locking your vehicle before walking towards the front of the building. As you approached the entrance, one of the workers made eye contact with you and smiled, "Hello, how may I help you?" She tried her best not to notice your puffy red eyes and the tears streaming down your face.
"I'm here to see Satoru, my husband," you managed to say, your voice trembling with emotion. The worker's eyes widened immediately, and she apologized for not recognizing you instantly, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Gojou, but he's currently not accepting any visitors right now."
"I'm his goddamn wife!" you yelled, feeling a mixture of anger and desperation. You stormed inside, determined to find his office which was just around the corner. As you turned the corner, you saw that the blinds were closed and you couldn't see anything at all. Your heart sank as you realized that he was purposely avoiding you.
Frustrated and hurt, you banged on the door, "Satoru, open the damn door!" You could hear muffled voices from inside, and your heart clenched at the thought of him being with someone else.
Hesitating for a slight moment, you grabbed the doorknob and opened the lavish glass door, covered in blinds. Your eyes scanned the room, immediately spotting your husband. Your mouth fell open as you saw him ramming his dick inside Jiyuu, who was bent over his office table.
Quickly closing your mouth, you cleared your throat, trying to maintain composure. Your husband's eyes widened in shock as he saw you. "Jesus Christ, Y/N!" Jiyuu screamed, frantically trying to cover up her naked body.
You remained stoic, walking up to Satoru and throwing a stack of papers at him. "I'm infertile, Satoru," you stated coldly, glaring at him. He scrambled to put his pants back on, his bare chest exposed and his eyes filled with guilt.
Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, from anger to sadness to betrayal. You couldn't believe that your husband had lied to you and chosen to spend time with his ex lover instead of going to your endocrinologist appointment with you. The pain in your heart was unbearable, and you felt like you couldn't even trust the person you had vowed to spend the rest of your life with.
You walked out of the office, slamming the glass door in a fit of rage and not caring if you damaged it. As you walked away, you couldn't help but think that maybe dying would be easier than facing the pain and betrayal that you were experiencing.
Satoru ran out moments later, his hair a mess and his shirt barely buttoned up. He looked genuinely guilty for a split second until he saw your face. "Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn't think you were coming," he said, staring at your eyes. He didn't even bother to spare a glance at his lover who had creeped up behind him.
You dryly laughed at him. "I'm stupid, Satoru. I genuinely thought we were bonding at the cabin, but now I realize everything was a lie," you said, turning your gaze to Jiyuu. Her hair was a mess and her makeup was smudged everywhere.
"And I quite literally don't care if you have sex with her or not, Satoru. She's the woman you love, not me," you continued, pushing past him and shoving your shoulder into his chest. As you passed by him, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back.
"Y/N," he opened his mouth, about to respond, but then noticed Jiyuu's sharp glare directed at him. He quickly closed his mouth and nodded, understanding that he should keep his thoughts to himself. "I'll see you at the house," he said as you turned to leave
You nodded and walked passed him. Despite your initial feelings of anger and betrayal, you couldn't help but understand why Satoru did what he did. He was in love with Jiyuu, and it was clear that he would never have feelings for you. The memories of the cabin trip that once brought you joy now felt like a facade, filled with actions and words that were all based on lies.
Your head began to ache as you tried to make sense of everything that had happened. You couldn't help but feel foolish for ever believing that Satoru could see you in a romantic way.
But deep down, you also knew that you couldn't stay mad at Satoru forever. After all, he was just following his heart, even if it meant breaking yours in the process. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that everything happens for a reason, and that this would only make you stronger in the end.
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580 notes · View notes
holybibly · 21 hours
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Today's unholy hours, bunnies
"This is exactly what you wanted, doll. Isn't it? Just what you need. Am I right?" Yeosang whispered in your ear, his deep, husky voice sending a shiver down the length of your spine.
The sound of your soft, half-choked moaning rang out in the evening silence of the practically empty library. The corner behind the tall bookshelves provided enough privacy for the two of you at this late hour, hiding you from the staff and other students who might accidentally wander into the most remote section of the Ancient Korean Literature section.
Yeosang's sneering laugh is accompanied by a particularly hard thrust of his hips while his cold, hard hands press you more firmly against the wooden table.
"And what? I'm not going to get a single sarcastic comment from you to answer that, bunny? The cat's got your tongue."
Any attempt at a reply or contradiction is cut short by the powerful, deep thrusts of Yeosang's hips as he drives his thick, wiry cock deeper into your screaming, needy cunt. He was fucking you so hard and so fast that it practically knocked all the air out of your lungs.
You hated him. You hated him so fucking much, but the feeling was stronger than you. Yeosang was making you crazy, and trying to deny feeling attracted to him was just stupid.
You wanted to turn away from the wicked, sneering grin on the handsome blond sempai's face, but he wouldn't let you. Yoe kept your fierce, defiant gaze on his angelic face, digging his fingers into your soft cheek and covering your mouth with his palm, so that you could barely breathe, choking on your own moans as Yeosang continued to fuck you mercilessly.
"Such obedience; I like you much more like this, doll~"
Your hands clutched at his shirt, crumpling the once perfectly ironed fabric, your nails scratching across his collarbones and the bulging muscles of his chest, leaving bright red scratches on his skin, when you rolled your eyes at the feeling of the orgasm that was about to come. Fuck, it was too good to be true, and you knew full well that you'd be kicking yourself for it afterwards, but fuck, Yeosang was fucking divine.
Who would have thought that your angelic sempai, Kang Yeosang, could be a real freak in bed?
You couldn't even make a sound of protest—just a whimper as he slowed his movements, denying you pleasure for the third time today. Fucking bastard. Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as you squirmed in your seat, letting out a muffled, frustrated moan that was too loud, even though Yeosang was still covering your mouth with his hand. The sharp sensation of your orgasm slowly began to fade into a small, pulsating stream of pleasure.
You were so wet you were probably sitting in a puddle of your own slime, judging by the nasty squelching sound you heard when Yeosang's cock was halfway out of your cunt. The amusement that danced in his foxy hazel eyes was so obvious and only grew as you raised your tearful puppy eyes up to him, and your coarseness and defiance dissolved into a silent plea for him to finally let you cum.
"Oh, wilful little slut wants to cum? Not such a cheeky little thing anymore, Y/N, eh? I told you to be quiet, doll. If you want to finally come on my cock, be quiet; otherwise, I'll be the one who cum tonight." That's how deep and sultry his voice was; it was just illegal. How could you resist him?
You nod desperately at what he says, and Yeosang responds by smiling smugly. The sweet expression on his face hides his sinister intentions as he begins to move again, this time with an even harder and more brutal thrust. His taut balls slap against your pussy with each rhythmic movement, and you bite his hand, causing the handsome sempai to hiss slightly in pain.
"You little bitch..." Yeosang hissed, changing the angle of his movements so that the head of his thick cock was now hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, and this time he had no intention of stopping.
You tensed, feeling the almost painful throbbing of your approaching orgasm, your eyes rolling back as wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure washed over you, shaking you to the core. For all your hatred of Yeosang, it was worth it. His cock was made of fucking gold.
His moans were barely audible as you clenched around his cock, his warm, thick seed staining the walls of your womb, and your pussy seemed to pull him even deeper in and hold him there, clinging tightly to the velvety length of his cock. All your senses were overloaded with pleasure, and every heavy sigh and every growling wheeze that Yeosang emitted seemed to prolong your orgasm, driving you deeper and deeper into a state of euphoria until you felt no connection to your body and black dots began to dance before your eyes.
When you finally managed to regain consciousness, you were lying on his lap, and your clothes had been returned to the tidy state they had been in before. You looked lazily around, still feeling heavy and unable to move. You rolled your eyes in annoyance as your still slightly unfocused gaze fell on the book in his hand.
"Are you serious, Yeosang? Classical poetry? You've just fucked my brains out, and you're still behave yourself like a good boy? Of course, the exemplary sempai, Kang Yeosang."
"Ah, now that cheeky mouth of yours is back again. I guess you haven't learned your lesson, doll; you have to be quiet in the library."
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samodivaa · 20 hours
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permeated by jealously
Paring: Bucky x Reader
Summary: In your tight-fitting red dress, you look ravishing for the date with a Russian guy—but the moment you retort to Bucky in Russian, it begs to be ripped from your body.
Warnings: smut, angst, kitchen sex, rough/possessive, unprotected p in v, miscommunication Words: 4k
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Bucky's veins are full of the serum, but at this moment, they are full with belladonna tincture, the substance of jealousy. Seeing you with another man, he speaks of Love in the past tense. The scene that plays in front of him—that guy coming to pick you up from the compound, is perfectly adapted to a temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed, already a memory. For a split second you stare at each other, you smile at him ruefully. A fleeting, lasting moment for Bucky. Why do you even notice him? Seeing you happy, gives mixed colors to the air of the moment—he is lost in time, sleeping being his only lover.
Bucky wants to kiss you. Instead he puts his lips on the tumbler glass, pretending that it is you. His t-shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and he runs a hand through his hair before he puts the glass down on the kitchen counter—flashes of you in that dress that you wear for your date and the way it lifts your body up from a single look races through his head.
His cock jerks and he shakes his head, grinning as he stares down the bottle of vodka next to his cup.
And, for the first time in his innocent and confined life, he senses in himself a potential for a different corruption that takes his breath away. He doesn’t blame himself. He is a curious, wanting thing—finally, enlightened and free, but also lustful and carnal. But It stabs at him, almost like a physical pain, and he feels both deprived and angry, deprived because Bucky wishes to be with you and angry, because his own choices causes him misery. ----- “It is almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare, you're so relieved. I just wake up into another nightmare."
"And what is that nightmare, Bucky?" He keeps his blue, lusterless eyes fixed on Natasha with a calm but warm and kindly expression in them as he thinks how to say it  "My love life” “Maybe you need to ask her on a date, that’s what Vladimir does”
“Vladimir? Oh , so it is not just 'that one guy' anymore?”  he says in a quiet voice, without a trace of irritation, with a note of the simplest curiosity, his lips quivering as a forced smile comes on to his face. Nat momentarily startles. Then she starts to laugh. “You’re jealous of him?”
He clenches his jaw. “I’m not jealous,” a note of personal affront creeps into his voice “I don’t like his name”  ----- You are on a date, having fun—but anxiety grabs his mind, it is self-perpetuating. Worrisome thoughts reproduce faster than rabbits, he is trying not to lose his balance. Not yet. Especially when the jealousy sets in. 
Bucky is conscious every moment in himself of many, many elements positively swarming in him, ah these, opposite elements. He knows that they have been swarming in him since you started going out with Vladimir and they are craving some outlet from him, but he doesn't let them, would not let them, purposely would not let them come out, because he believes there is nothing so self-destroying, and so despicable, as his jealousy. He tries to appear as a hard shell on the outside when you finally enter the kitchen at 1 am—while there is a runny mess on the inside as he tenses, waiting for you to say something, anything. When you near the sink, your fingers find the curve of the faucet, the metal cool beneath the touch. He turns around to lean against the counter as you pour a cup of cold water. Bucky stares hard at you, watching you take a long drink then he follows the flick of your tongue over your bottom lip. His heart stumbles a beat. He is in such an irritated frame of mind, because of your quietness that in rude and abrupt fashion he blurts out the words:    “You must love that dress”
He takes time persing down the length of your body as you take a step back, watching you press against the counter and then back up before locking on your eyes again. You are not wearing a bra and your nipples harden from having his eyes on you. Red, the front needlessly too scandalous—at least for Bucky. The dipping v lets him see the swelled sides of your breasts pushed up and together. Just to be sure, though, a golden necklace with a teardrop pearl at the end, letting it trail just over your cleavage.
  “I didn’t know that you notice what I am wearing when I go out”
You answer, trying to look as innocent as possible. The vindictive smile that stretches on your ruined lipstick sends shivers down Bucky’s spine—did you make out with the guy, maybe more than that? You look beautiful sitting there looking at him like a she-cat. All he has to do is look at you, and he lusts. He wants to take off that delectable dress and make love to you until you don't have the energy to go out with anyone else ever again.
  “You’ve worn it for the second time. For your date.”
His gaze drops from your eyes, to the swell of your chest. Your chest tightens and you bite your lip to hide the grin wanting to escape. You notice the disgust written on his face and you laugh coldly, gaze never leaving his buff frame. With the certainty that you have well and truly punished him for not asking you on a single date. The angry, feral part of you feels so close to the surface that you can almost scent its blood-clotted fur. You want to lick the scratches you’ve made on him. You want to scratch him until he breaks apart. You gulp down the rest of your water to ease the heat flaming across your skin. Then you lick your lips. His gaze tracks the movement. You think you stopped breathing.
  “His name is Vlad” 
An audacious expression plasters on his face as you sigh in irritation at Bucky, rolling your eyes. Bucky is still leaning against the counter and rests his metal hand on the countertop while sipping vodka from the mug in his other hand. A beautiful yet deadly ornament—vibranium has no business being as hot as it is on him.
A note of personal affront creeps into his voice “Vladimir, mhm”
  “What else have you noticed about me?” your grin becomes a touch leery, innocently cocking your head to the side.
  “Try me” he says softly.
  “Favorite color?” you ask, interrogatively.
  He chuckles “Red”
  “Favorite quote?”
Your brows lift, anticipation making your nerves sing. You are not sure what he is about to say, but you have the feeling that it will be the right one, your heart leaps at the thought.
  “Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid”  he answers, this time winking at you  “I know everything about you, sweetheart”   he adds and you feel like smacking that stupid grin off his face.
His mind works well when it comes to his work as an avenger, hovering on hummingbird wings, but when it comes to you, especially when you purposely play with his jealousy, It finds a way to push through any seal of his mind, his expressions are always an array of masks he uses to cover it up his emotions—but now, it is all over his face, pure surrender, because he is affected and you can tell, he is staring impudently at you, awning for your response.
  “I prefer kotyonok. Vlad says that cognac and wine is all for the heart and that vodka is for the soul. If it's hurting real bad and you’ve never had vodka before”
His brows lift, because this does surprise him and his stomach tightens at that particular Russian word. His mouth curls into a small snarl at the thought of that stupid man calling you that. A pang of jealousy surges through him. The bad kind. The kind of longing that makes him wonder that there must be a natural comorbidity between sexual appetite and sexual jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill. He clears his throat, his face souring before his mocking tone grates:
  “Looks like you know a thing or two about me, too”   
He is trying to not be overcome by emotion. Emotion is the art of breaking hearts, minds, and tongues―but jealousy is too much, even for Bucky. He settles back into himself, shaking whatever momentary emotion flitted over his face and replacing it with a confident aura that screams laid back and in control as he cages you to the counter, his flesh hand still holding his half full cup. Your throat gurgles slightly, looking at the bigger frame towering you through your lashes like the starved woman you are. You are overwhelmed by his bold move, leaving you both speechless and breathless, but even then it is important to identify the correct emotion here—lust, a longing that goes on a loop. You try to ignore his hard cock pressing against your thigh, your attention remains on his face. You feel drunk without a drink, your nerves tighten, making your muscles clench―this is going exactly how you want. You want him to kiss you. But you make sure to keep your facial features mundane and level.   “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to think you have a crush on me, Bucky” You also ignore the annoying, visible blush on your cheeks, he must have noticed it because his expression goes grim for a second before a surprised laugh almost breaks free from his lips, responding only by a clink of his tumbler against yours. Judging by the rumble that vibrates in his chest, he likes your reaction, though the noise ends on a cynical note. His blue eyes drop to your mouth, warmth pours through your body and you moisturize your lips as he presses his knee between your legs. Right against your clit—you breathe out, a wave of pleasure sliding down your spine while Bucky just tips his glass back the last of vodka, allowing the burn to sear his throat and warm his stomach—while casually grinding his leg slowly against you, creating a sensation that has heat winding through your core and shooting down your legs.   “Na zdorovie” (cheers) You smile venomously with a kind of joyous sigh, your arrogance in this moment makes you feel very confident. Up to this moment possessiveness has not been that much of a torment, now it suddenly gnaws at his heart. As in slow motion, he pulls back to put both glasses on the counter. He realizes that you do something to him. Every time. It’s your only detriment this past month. To step on his heart—to test his feelings for you, and his jealousy already has made him erupt like a volcano. He has never been jealous before he met you. It burns. Some nights, watching you go with other men on missions, even that drives him mad. 
   “You and that fucking mouth, kotyonok” His voice sounds ill-natured, bitter, politeness that would only be laughed at, restraining an unruly nature, wary of the ways that you are trying to provoke him, but his tone shifts at the last word. Voice warm and low. Intimate. You like it this way. You like the way it sounds and it makes you gasp.   “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl?” Your character has absolutely changed. It is an entirely new and hitherto unknown being who now stands and stares at him somewhat lovingly. There is evidently, he concludes, something at work here, some storm of the mind, some paroxysm of emotion which he won’t question. When you say nothing, his hands move to your waist, his vision already blurring. His bones fill up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire. You let out a deep breath and can’t deny the strange elation you feel when you feel his hands, needing more of it, of his touch. Your pussy contracts as his hands reach around, gripping a handful of your ass, forcing you harder against his both body and leg. The grip is both bruising and possessive, controlling every movement.     “Oh, god-” You open your mouth, and Bucky dips down, catching the moan with his tongue. Satisfaction sparks in his irises and he tilts his head and keeps watching you with those fucking lethal eyes of his. Bucky gives a small grin, a fake one. The type that shows no teeth and barely lifts at the corners. You feel a very small spark to your ego, knowing you are getting a rise out of him. But all of the playfulness in the air drowns beneath the intensity of his thousand shades of blue dancing in his eyes as if he is peeling back your mental layers, his eyes looking down watching the bare length of thigh that shows through the slit in your dress. 
   “You and these dresses” he groans. Whether you want to admit it or not, physically, this man affects you more than anyone else ever has, and that causes panic to percolate through every nerve, you feel like you are losing control, but you don’t mind it. You feel vulnerable, exposed, almost at his mercy at this point. Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, but his jealousy is combined with modesty and there's even something touching about the filthy words coming out of his mouth. He wants you—and finally, he is not afraid to both tell and show it.
   “Ya ne mogu vyrazit', kak sil'no ty menya zavodish'” (I can’t explain to you how much you turn me on) Your lips part and you swallow audibly while he has the most delicious visual of his dick slipping between them, your eyes staring up at him in surprise and that sweet tongue running along the shaft. He surges forward, your face is an inch from his when you breathe out, he breaths in before crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing his lips to yours. It is not a sweet kiss. It is hard, demanding, and possessive, borne out of weeks of pent-up frustration and tension. His mouth is hungry and insistent, his tongue probing your lips, asking for greater intimacy. You grant it, tongues swirling together, yours follow his when it retreats and tasting his in return. When he finally pulls back, he rests his hands on your hips, and stares into your eyes for a minute.
  “Tvoy zapakh s uma menya svodit” (your scent drives me crazy) 
He speaks without haste, controlling himself so well, yet there is something in his voice, determined and euphoric, resentful and insolently defiant. Passion smolders in his eyes as he traces the line of your clavicle with his index flesh finger, pausing for only a fraction of a second. And then you become aware of all the magnificent silk wrapping around your body, you have the feeling that you might drown in his eyes, his two drops of winter rain.   “I would love to make love to you, but not tonight”  He studies your face, pleading silently for your approval, searching for the smallest sign, the slightest movement of your brow, the vaguest reddening of your cheeks, the surprise of your eyes. At that moment, your soul clenches as well as your pussy. The hard dick still pressing into you distracts you from replying. You can feel your panties dampening. And your nipples are suddenly incredibly sensitive, aching as they pucker against the material of your dress. Your chest warms, desire winding like a rope around your core. You think you like Bucky this way. A smile shows on your face. This would be invisible to any, but the closest scrutiny—Bucky has noticed it and taken it for his sign. Then he leans forward and presses his lips once more, his sugar roughness, his possessiveness is what you need to finally feel.   “What did you do when you went out?”   “We had a few drinks. We danced.” you reply, thinking it best to speak the truth at once. His lip quivers slightly, forcing himself to seem calm, but Bucky’s eyes are sparkling irefully, there is no doubt in his expression the full success of your endeavors to make him even more detested.   “You danced with him?” he asks, with sudden vivacity.   “Well, he is my date” You murmur, trying to smooth away all disquietude on the subject, you sense a physical weakness by the violent, unequal throbbing of your own heart, which beats visibly and audibly under the excess of agitation—but before you can even manage to open your mouth again, his metal fingers grab the front of your gown and pull it until it tears, no matter how beautiful, it was meant for another man—perfect breast on display just for him, his cock pulses at the sight. His touch tickles you on his way up to your boobs, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his palms. “Tony’s rules include no sex in the common areas” “Fuck the rules” he grits out, more animal than you have ever heard from a human. And then he gives you a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet—with the filthy touch of his hands, that unexpected warmth rushes through you. His thumbs run over the hardened peaks, making you moan and his dick is so stiff that he is worried that he might come.   “Ty moya” he says coolly. (you are mine)
   He leans in, his voice a rumble in your ear.   “Moy kotyonok” (my kitten)
Bucky moves, gripping the meat of your thighs before he spins you harshly around and bends you over the counter. Your walls are squelching around nothing as you feel him pull back, murmuring something in Russian, it is sinful—and pleasurable, drawing a muffled whimper from your mouth as you hear him tear apart your panties. You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you hear his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs before pressing his body against yours until every inch of him melds into you one more. Bucky’s metal hand grips your chin and forces your head back while the other closes around your throat as his cock presses against you—chills slide up your spine, arousal sending a shot of adrenaline through your center as you feel pre-cum on your naval. Fuck, he is huge. There is a certain satisfaction in manhandling you into this position, the flesh arm tightens around your nape, holding you close to him. 
   "How about we make a deal? You wear dresses for me and I take you out on dates?” He rambles against your ear, tongue slipping out to taste you, just a little bit. His cock nudges around your ass cheeks, to your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead with his metal hand, gliding through your delicate folds and returning his cold grasp around your chin. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you with ease, your wetness sucking him in, making it easy for him to thrust into you until he buries himself to the hilt.     “Fuck, you feel good”
Bucky moans quietly as his eyes close, focusing on feeling your cunt wrapping around his dick for the first time. His lips stay silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hands hold, the way he fucks you. You want to see his face, but you can only imagine how perfect he looks.
His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind. It is an igniting feeling to have so much control over your body. It is sick and twisted, he has long learned to run from what he feels and wants, that's why he has nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control. And he needs to take control over something for once in his life. You. He has lost control over everything, even the places in his head. When your moans become too loud, his hand closes around your neck, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. His growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length.
   “Come for me, drench my dick”
He whispers, fucking his cock against your cervix. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath as you struggle to breathe. Jealousy…teeth dragging against your skin, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He snarls out gluttonous groans against your skin as you clench and seize, pounding you harder as your body contracts. Pleasure breaks out like a wildfire, reaching around your temples, shooting up and down your spine as his thrusts never falter, his mouth hangs open with bliss, his cock plunging into you with skin-slapping speed and he finally reaches his orgasm, cock spurting a thick dollop of cum with each throb.
Lust is the best of all the deadly sins, you realize as he pulls out and helps you go back on your shaky feet. It all happened too fast. You only wanted a kiss. You push his chest like you want him off of you, but your fingers have Bucky’s shirt clutched in them and he knows you are full of shit. You want him. 
   “I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did. I don't.” The timbre of his voice goes into that low register that makes your insides curl in on themselves. You want that tongue to swipe your sex like licking the frosting off a cupcake. It is the sexual chemistry you want more of. It is electric. But guilt sets in. You are feeling torn between your commitment to building a relationship with Vlad while engaging with Bucky, in a way it feels like cheating. A part of you is hoping someone from the team would wake up and catch you, so you wouldn't have to live with this lie. But no one wakes up and in the silence that follows, you understand the nature of your new curse: you are going to get away with it. Your silence hurts him, his mouth tightens. But there are some wounds that he can heal only by deepening them and making them worse. And yet, sometimes facts are no more than pitiful consequences, Bucky knows how the public will perceive you if you are dating the former Winter Soldier. Seeing you standing there unresponsive makes him realize that silence has a sound—he knows that you regret sleeping with him. You are the people's favorite Avenger, the one everyone look up to with admiration and reverence—he is sure that you are thinking about it, but he understands. The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion you can’t put his finger on—and he should be sad, but instead, he feels nothing. He feels a lot of nothing these days. He is empty, as if whatever makes him feel and hurt and laugh and love has been surgically removed, leaving him hollowed out like a shell. This is for your happy ever after, Vlad might be a stupid Russian, but he is at the very core of his existence—a real human. He turns around and paces the room, as if he can leave his regret, you, behind. But it cracks you as you see him walk away, leaving you naked like an ugly shadow made by himself. You have mistaken his lust for love. Regret. It turns into anger, into hatred. And where there is anger there is always pain underneath. You eventually come to understand that in harboring the anger, the bitterness and resentment towards Bucky who has hurt you, you are giving the reins of control over to him—maybe It’s time to finally say “yes” to being Vlad’s girlfriend.
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You Should Be Sad
Weightless, Breathless Restitute (2)
Wanda Maximoff x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: You've just joined the Avengers, Earth's Mightiest Heroes, but Wanda doesn't think your powers are all that special or are they?
Word Count: 2,042
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R uses her powers on W, W calls R Mommy, R uses pet names, R calls W bunny, Mommy kink
A/N: Here is the prequel and the meeting of Wanda and R from You Should Be Sad~
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The room was filled with an air of anticipation as I took my seat next to Tony. The hum of fluorescent lights seemed louder somehow, mingling with the heavy silence. I could feel the eyes of the Avengers on me—some curious, others skeptical.
"Alright, everyone," Tony began, glancing around the room. "I'd like you to meet the newest member of the team: Y/N Y/L/N."
I offered a small, curt smile, trying to hide the nervous flutter in my chest. This was a big moment for me, and I didn’t want to seem out of place among these seasoned heroes.
"I've got voice manipulation," I said, my voice steady. To demonstrate, I shifted my tone, letting it oscillate subtly, from deep to high. A few eyebrows raised in acknowledgment.
Then, I pulled down the collar of my shirt just a tad, revealing the Power Stone embedded in the middle of my chest. It glowed softly, a vibrant shade of purple, and I saw a few gasps around the room.
"This," I said, tapping the stone gently, "gives me super strength."
Thor leaned forward, his eyes wide with recognition. "That stone... It's one of the Infinity Stones."
I nodded. "Yes, it is. And with it, I can hold my own in a fight."
Tony smirked, obviously pleased with the team's reaction. "Well, now that introductions are out of the way, let's get down to business."
As the meeting went on, discussing missions and strategies, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. I was no longer just Y/N Y/L/N; I was an Avenger. And with that title came responsibilities and challenges unlike anything I had ever faced before.
The room fell silent, and Wanda's expression shifted from skepticism to a mix of surprise and frustration. I raised an eyebrow at her, a subtle smirk playing on my lips.
"Voice manipulation can't be better than my mind manipulation," Wanda scoffed.
I leaned in, meeting her gaze. "Shall I give a better demonstration?" I proposed, and after a moment of hesitation, she agreed.
As my eyes glowed with a vibrant purple, I commanded her, "Kiss me." Wanda moved, almost mechanically, ready to comply. But just as she was about to, I interrupted with a firm, "Stop."
A slight smirk danced on my lips as I added, "Kneel. Stay." To everyone's amazement, Wanda followed my commands, unable to resist. I turned my attention back to the rest of the Avengers.
"Anymore questions about how powerful my voice is?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, Wanda attempting to get up but held in place. "Oh sweetie, that won't work. Not until I command you."
The room was filled with a tense silence, and I could sense a mixture of awe and caution from the Avengers. I had just made a strong statement about the extent of my abilities, and it seemed they were still processing the implications.
I met the eyes of each Avenger in the room, trying to convey sincerity. "In the future, I won't use this power on anyone unless it's to save your life."
The tension in the room lingered, and I could see the unease reflected in their expressions. My demonstration had left an indelible impression, and it was clear they were grappling with the full extent of my abilities.
"I understand your concerns," I continued, my voice softer now. "But you have my word. I'm here to be a part of this team, to fight alongside you—not against you."
There was a pause, a palpable hesitation as they absorbed my words. Slowly, some of the tension began to ease, replaced by a cautious sense of acceptance. It was a small step, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.
"Alright. You can get up. I don't want you all to think I'm a monster," I said, releasing Wanda from my command. My eyes faded back to their normal green hue as she rose, her expression a mix of relief and lingering resentment.
Without another word, Wanda stormed off, leaving a palpable tension in her wake. I sighed, realizing the gravity of my actions had perhaps overshadowed my intentions.
"I'll apologize," I announced, rising from my seat. It was important to me that the team understood I meant no harm, even if my abilities had startled them.
As I left the room in search of Wanda, I couldn't help but ponder the complexities of joining Earth's mightiest heroes. It was clear that earning their trust would be a journey filled with challenges, but I was determined to prove myself worthy of the title—Avenger.
I knock at her door, "Wanda can I please come in?" I ask and for a moment there is silence. The door creaked open slowly, revealing Wanda seated on her bed, her attention seemingly absorbed by a sitcom playing on the screen. She didn't acknowledge me as I entered, a palpable tension filling the room.
Standing before her, I met her gaze, searching for any sign of forgiveness in her eyes. "How could you do something like that?" she asked, her voice wavering with a mix of hurt and confusion.
"I'm sorry," I replied, my voice filled with genuine regret. "I didn't think it through. I was just showing off, and I hurt and embarrassed you, and I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
For a moment, there was silence as Wanda processed my apology. Then, to my surprise, she responded, "You can finish what you started out there."
I looked at her in shock, not expecting that to be her answer. It was a clear indication of how deeply I had wounded her pride, and I realized that a mere apology wouldn't suffice. I needed to demonstrate my sincerity through action, and it seemed that finishing the demonstration was the first step in mending the rift I had created.
Wanda's request was clear, and I nodded in acknowledgment. "Use your voice. I don't feel like thinking anymore," she stated, pulling me onto the bed beside her.
Allowing my eyes to glow once again, I met her gaze and issued a command, "Kiss me until you need air." Wanda's lips met mine with an intensity fueled by a mixture of emotions. We lost ourselves in the moment, our lips moving in sync as if trying to bridge the gap that had formed between us.
"Shall we keep going?" I inquired, my voice genuine, devoid of any manipulation. Wanda nodded, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of anticipation and desire.
My hand ventured further up her thigh, eliciting a squirm from her. "Oh, someone is eager," I teased, a smirk playing on my lips.
She let out a whine, her body responding to my touch even as my powers began to wane, no longer clouding her judgment as before. Yet, she still moved her hips against my hand, a silent affirmation of the connection between us.
The room was filled with a palpable tension, each touch and movement deepening the bond between us, forging a path towards understanding and mutual desire.
"I'm so glad you're wearing this pretty little dress, sweetie. It's going to make things a lot easier," I remarked with a smirk, my eyes taking in the fabric that clung to her.
"You want this so badly, don't you? A few commands, and that was it? Have you ever done this before?" I inquired, probing for the truth.
Wanda bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before I commanded, "Tell me the truth."
"N-no... never," she admitted, her voice shaky.
I continued to tease her, reveling in the control I had over her reactions. "Awww, that's so pathetic. How old are you, sweetie?"
Despite her efforts to hold back, a moan escaped her lips as she replied, "T-twenty-five."
I laughed, the sound echoing in the room. "Oh yes, my pathetic little baby. I'm going to show you everything," I declared, my smirk deepening as I looked into her eyes, now almost entirely black with pleasure and desire.
I removed my hand, and Wanda let out a groan of frustration. "Oh hush. Get used to it. I'm not giving you everything right away," I teased, smacking her thigh lightly, eliciting a yelp from her.
Guiding her movements, I shifted her hips and pulled her down onto my thigh. "Rub, like this," I instructed, moving her hips back and forth.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she let out a soft mewl of pleasure as she followed my guidance. I watched intently, letting her take control, her movements becoming more desperate as she tried to find release against my thigh.
The room was filled with the sounds of her pleasure, each moan and gasp driving me to push her further, to explore the depths of her desire and vulnerability. It was a dance of power and submission, a delicate balance that we were navigating together, each movement bringing us closer to the edge.
"Y/N... Gonna..." Wanda's voice was a breathless moan, teetering on the edge of ecstasy.
"Stop," I commanded, my eyes flashing purple once again, halting her in her tracks. "Off my thigh. Move to the middle of the bed on your hands and knees," I instructed, my voice unwavering.
I watched as she obeyed, her movements tinged with a mix of desperation and anticipation. I shifted positions, moving around the bed to gaze into her eyes, now shimmering with tears.
"Oh, you look so beautiful right now, baby," I confessed, my voice softening as I took in the sight before me.
"Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me the truth." I ask, tilting her chin up. 
"I want you Mommy. Please...touch me...make me feel good. I need it...I need you. I need your touch Mommy." She cried out in desperation and my stomach exploded with a million butterflies as the sound of desperation in her voice for me. 
I couldn’t hold back anymore as I let two fingers slip inside of her. A moan came out as she grabbed my wrist. “Hands up, above your head. Keep them above your head.” You told her and she moved them as if she were tied by invisible ropes. “Good girl. Now do you want to cum for Mommy?” You asked, looking her in her eyes all dark and glazed from your words. Her head nodded frantically. “Use your words.” A whimper slipped past her lips before the words tumbled past her lips.
“Please Mommy! Wanna cum for you. Wanna make a mess for you! Wanna be Mommy's good girl, please can I cum?” She looked at you desperately.
“Cum.” You gave your command and her body obeyed beautifully. Her back arching and her moans growing louder. You felt her tighten around your fingers as she tried to fight against your command, trying to pull against the invisible restraints. Her whole body trembling for you as you forced it out on a command of your tongue.
“What a beautiful sight. Such a pretty bunny.” Her eyes widened at the nickname, drinking it up like it was water after being in the heat all day. 
“Bunny. your bunny Mommy.” You smiled down at her as you slowly left her, giving a quick kiss before going to her bathroom for a towel. Cleaning her up with a few quiet whimpers falling from her lips and a few quiet ‘shhh’ fall from yours. Once it was done with you let the command go of her hands and took her into your arms.
“You did so good for me bunny.” You kissed her forehead and she looked up at you.
“Can we do this again? Not right not, but just like in general?” She looked up at you with doe eyes still dark with lust.
“How about a date first and we’ll see where it goes?” Wanda blushed, burying her face against you and nodding. She relaxed against you until you felt her breathing even out against you. A smile finding its way to your face as you watched her. You know you had said about not using your power, but Wanda would be the exception so long as she’d want it.
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop @mrsromanovaa
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Pregnant with Patrick’s Daughter (Challengers)
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Description: Y/N is pregnant with Patrick’s baby but she’s with Art.
Word Count:986
Request: "Maybe something with a pregnant reader and like Patrick’s the dad. It could be fluff or angst, idk I’m just curious to see how the dynamic between Patrick and like his child would be lol!”
Author’s note: I added a twist in it. Hope you like it!
Y/N looked down at the pregnancy test in shock. Her and Patrick used protection or did they? She honestly couldn’t remember but this was bad news. She was with Art and fucking Patrick. Though she knows that it’s not Art’s kid because he’s been too busy with Tennis to even fuck her. Art would know that the kid wasn’t his, especially if the kid looks like Patrick. Truth be told, Y/N loved Patrick and she also loved Art. It was hard for her to choose between them when they both wanted her as well. She looked at the engagement ring that was placed on her finger. She twirled it and played with it as she thought of what she was going to do. 
Art was practicing for his match today so Y/N called Patrick. The two weren’t friends anymore which made the situation worse. He thought she wanted to have sex again so he kissed her hard as soon as she opened the door. She pushed him back and he gave her a confused look. “We need to talk.” She said, he nodded and followed her to the kitchen. “Take a seat.” She demanded. “Ohh I love it when you get all dominant with me.” He smirked. She gave him a look and his smirk dropped. “Listen I don’t know what to do about this or why I'm even telling you at this point but I’m pregnant.” His jaw drops at her words, “And it’s yours because Art and I haven’t had sex in awhile.” He got up from the chair and pulled her in for a hug. “That’s great. I’m gonna be a dad.” He whispered. She pulled away from the hug, “Patrick, I’m with Art. He’s not gonna be happy about this.” Patrick didn’t really care. He hated Art for taking Y/N from him. That pathetic bastard got everything he wanted. “Well he’s not gonna wanna be with you since you’re carrying another man’s baby. My baby to be exact.” She glared at him. Of course he’d be happy about this. He hated Art. 
“What?” Art screeched as he stood up from the couch. It didn’t make sense why Patrick was here but now it did. “Art, I’m sorry this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.” She tells him. Patrick had a proud smirk on his face. “Found out what? That you’re fucking my ex best friend and having his baby?” Y/N looked at him with a guilty expression. She really did feel bad. “Art it’s hard for me.” She said with tears in her eyes. “You’re crying? You’re fucking my ex best friend and you’re crying?” He yelled. “Art, I love you both.” Patrick didn’t know that she loved him, nor did Art. “What?” Patrick whispered at her confession. “I love you both and I know that you guys hate each other but I can’t live without you guys.” She said, tears still streaming down her face. Patrick stood up and looked at Art who looked so broken at the news. Y/N’s eyes flickered between the two of them. “Art, please say something.” She begged her fiance. He shook his head and laughed. Both, Y/N and Patrick looked confused. “Get the fuck out!” He told them. “Art, please-” “Get the fuck out!” He screamed at her. 
She laid in Patrick’s bed with tears streaming down her face. Her belly bigger and full with Patrick’s baby. It’s been 6 months since Art kicked her out. He hadn’t spoken to either of them, not that she thought he would. He had the right to be upset with her. She cheated on him and got pregnant. But it still hurt her a lot, she loved them both and it was selfish that she felt sad because she had Patrick. But she wanted both. The front door opened and she quickly wiped her tears. Patrick made his way to the bedroom to see Y/N and her tummy full of his baby. He smiled at the sight. She saw him enter the bedroom and smiled at him. He came and collapsed on the bed next to her. He turned towards her and stared at her stomach. “I can’t wait til she’s born.” He said and placed his hand on her tummy. She smiled and agreed with him. She placed her hand on his and the baby kicked. They both gasped and looked at each other. This was the first time they baby kicked for Patrick. Tears started forming in his eyes as he smiled. “I finally felt her kick.” Y/N nodded and ran her fingers through his hair. 
Y/N watched as Patrick gave their 4 year old daughter a racket. She chuckled as their daughter kept dropping it but everytime Patrick gave her it again. He was so patient with her and so sweet. It made Y/N’s heart melt. She giggled as their daughter almost hit Patrick with the racket. He looked at his wife and smiled at her. She got up from her seat and walked over to them. “Try not to kill daddy, sweetheart.” She joked. Their 4 year old giggled and gave the racket to Y/N. Y/N took it and melted when she ran into Patrick’s arms. Patrick smiled and hugged her back. Y/N felt happiness in her life, ever since their daughter was born. She didn’t think of Art anymore, unless she saw him on the news. He was a pro tennis player like Patrick and he married Tashi Duncan. She was happy for him, truly. “Hey uh I guess now would be the time to tell you that I’m playing in the challengers and Art will be there.” Her smile dropped at his name. She had a bad feeling about this and almost told him not to go. But she would be by his side with their daughter to support him. She wouldn’t let Art being there ruin this for them.
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moonlit-imagines · 1 day
Text
No One’s Sidekick
Jason Todd x teen!reader
warnings: needles and guns and death mentions ya know
a/n: ok i was gonna do headcanons for this but honestly it sparked a lot of inspiration so im actually writing a oneshot for it this is a ONE IN A MILLION CHANCE bc im very picky about when to write oneshots ily. might do hcs also just cuz arkham knight is my passion. (honestly i should have just done hcs idk if i like where i went with this LMAO)
prompt: anonymous: “hi idk if you write Arkham Jason Todd but if if you do is it possible if you can do a Arkham Jason Todd x fem teen reader and reader is his sidekick”
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Imagine a life where you had nothing, you were the lowest anyone could go, and you were just a kid. Now imagine that there was someone standing in front of you, telling that same story, and offering you a chance to turn it all around because they knew how it felt to be you.
That someone was Jason Todd. You found each other by chance, somewhere in the Gotham slums. He walked past you down a dimly lit alley full of used needles and rotting trash, noticing a kid just a few years younger hiding from the world. You noticed a guy in a hoodie hiding a nasty scar on his cheek.
He reached out a hand, hoping you’d take it. He saw a look in your eyes that you’d been like this a while. And you might have noticed the same in his. Which is why after trusting nobody for years, you took this stranger’s hand. “I remember when I was a kid waiting in shitty places woth the hope someday it’d change. And it did one day. Someone found me and changed my life.” He explained after buying you a burger and fries.
“Was it for the better?” You asked him with a mouthful of food.
“I don’t know anymore.” He looked shaken himself, and you could tell by the bags under his eyes this may have been a subject that kept him up at night, maybe took up his waking moments, too. “How long have you been alone?”
“Practically forever. Every once in a while I felt like I was on steady ground and then…something always happens.” You sighed, taking a sip of your soda. “But I learned how to get by on my own. I had to. And I have to protect myself.” Jason raised a brow.
“You protect yourself yet you’re willing to go off with a stranger?” He asked, giving you a warm smile.
“Jason, right?” He nodded at the question. “Jason Todd?” His expression dropped. Before he could stammer out a response, you leaned back on your side of the booth and said, “everyone around here knows you one way or another, but everyone thought you were dead after you disappeared.”
“Did you know who I was when you came here with me?” Jason spoke lowly.
“Nope.” You flatly responded. “But I figured it out along the way. You used to live in my building when I was a kid, I knew I recognized you from somewhere.”
“3B?” He asked.
“That’s the one. You remember?” You smiled.
“I remember a scared little kid with dirt all over their face no matter what time of day.” You both chuckled. “Wow, it’s been a long time. I guess I’m glad we ran into each other.”
“It’s nice. I just don’t know where to go from here.” You took the last few bites from your meal, averting your eyes from his gaze, nervous for what was to come, but also hopeful. At this point, you didn’t care what you did or where you went, as long as you had some kind of purpose. Spending your youth in sleeping in wet boxes or crashing on a sunken-in, stained couch was no longer something you could stand doing.
“I had an idea. A while ago. But I just didn’t know how to go about it.” He revealed with a long pause, mustering up better details to share. “I dont know. It sounds crazy, but maybe not anymore.”
“Can you get to the point?” You tilted your head, eager for a bit more.
“Yeah, yeah…” He gulped. “I talked to this guy, it was after some really bad shit went down,” he brushed his scarred cheek, “this high-profile assassin wanted to train me—work with me. There are some demons I have to face, but I need some help to get ready.” You stared blankly for a minute, fingernail scratching the tabletop as you thought about his words. “It’s out of the country, somewhere in South America.”
“You’re crazy.” You stated. “I’m in.” Jason’s eyes widened. “Anything to get me out of Gotham. And you’re Jason Todd, I’d trust you with my life, even after all this time.” His expression softened and he kind of chuckled, in disbelief of you and himself.
“I—I guess I gotta go make a call.” Jason knocked his hand on the table. “Go ahead and order dessert, I’ll be back in a few.” He stepped out the front door and opened his phone, scrolling down to a contact labeled “S. Wilson.” It rang twice. “I’m in, and one more will be joining us.”
“I’ll make the arrangements for your travels, stay on the line.” Said Slade, there were faint keyboard clicks. “I have a private jet that awaits you at eight a.m. tomorrow. I will send you the address, don’t be late.” The phonecall ended abruptly and Jason went back to your table, finding you eating a slice of pie.
“Tomorrow morning we get to fly in a private jet.” Jason saw your face light up. “Never been?”
—————
Venezuela was incredible to you, even if it was a bit more humid than you were used to. On the plane ride, Jason told you everything. He didn’t spare one detail, he didn’t care. You were another Gotham City orphan with a dark past and a bright future. You two were ready for anything.
It was grueling. It was incredible. It was nothing you’d experienced before. Which was terrifying. But invigorating. You could tell Jason felt right back in his element, but you were desperately trying to catch up. He’d had much training before this, relevant to the current situation. You’re training went as far as standard Gotham Slums scuffling. Your skills included switchblade maneuvers, aiming for the crotch, running from trouble and climbing from trouble. Nothing like this ever seemed possible for you. But Jason knew what it felt like to be brought from your level to his. And as Deathstroke brought Jason to his level, he’d make sure you’d catch up.
—————
“I think you two are ready.” Slade announced as both of you stood before him. Straight backs, eyes forward, and arms behind your backs. “The plan is to be enacted soon, and you,” he turned his attention to Jason, “it’s up to you what we do from here. Gotham City finally meets its match?” He suggested. Jason nodded his head once and you followed. And so it began, the planning phase.
—————
You looked at Gotham from down below. Smaller than you remembered. The whirring of the helicopter blades lulled you away from reality for a few moments before Jason tapped you, motioning for you to come up front with him. You slid your headset on and heard him begin barking orders at the militia before setting your comms to private. “How’s it feel?” Jason asked you.
“I don’t know, actually.” You replied, doing a final check to make sure your guns were loaded and secured. “What about you?”
“It feels like I’m finally getting my revenge.” His voice modulator sent a chill down your spine and you soon landed in Gotham. The plan went off without a hitch. Gotham evacuated, scum running loose, Batman distracted, and his allies scattered. It was exciting, but something was off. Scarecrow’s plan didn’t sit well with you. It was gruesome, even to you. You never really cared about anyone but yourself, but as Jason lost his humanity, you gained it. “I’ve got your back, y/n. You got mine?”
“Always, Knight.” He chuckled as the chopper began to descend. “Let’s kill the Batman.”
taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @deanzboyfriend //
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fieldofdaisiies · 1 day
Text
Whisper of the Forgotten | pt. 8
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pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2,6k words | warnings: none | masterlist
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Azriel doesn’t say anything for a long moment. For so long, it makes you wonder if he will ever give you an answer. You watch how his throat bobs when he swallows, his eyes closing. You watch his chest lift with deep inhales. 
“I am aware that this is exactly what I deserve for hurting you so much.”
Your eyes close, the back of your mouth aching. 
“I broke the bond without even knowing it. I ruined the one thing I had been hoping for for so long, and I lost the person I loved most through my actions.”
He falls silent after this, and you can visibly make out how his heart breaks even more, cracks open completely and tears dwell in his eyes. Hd is a broken male, that is for sure, the actions of his past haunting him just like what has been done to him in his childhood.
“It is still there,” you find yourself saying after a moment of dense quietness. You can’t stand it anymore. “The bond has not completely vanished, I can still feel the pull.”
You find it hard to look at him, not wanting to see his expression, how torn he looks, how much this revelation broke him. 
Azriel slowly starts to shake his head, his hand sliding over his chest, right above his heart, then he drops it. 
“You can reject it.” Azriel’s voice is thick with emotion. “I want you to reject it. I can’t bind you to me, Y/N. I can’t force you to be bound to the person that hurt you so much, to make you stay with me–”
“You can’t tell me what to do, Azriel.” Now you lift your chin and meet his gaze. “This is my decision, and if I want to give it a chance, us a chance, again…” Your voice breaks the moment a sob crashes into it, and you start to cry again, lowering your face to your arm, crying silent tears into your skin. “Forgiveness is so hard, forgetting even harder and I know that I will never manage to do the latter, but I want to give us time. I want to give us a chance, to get to know each other again and to find forgiveness.”
You wipe your tears away on your arm, pushing up on your elbow so you can look at him. “I now know your reasons and even though they don’t remove the trauma or the pain they caused me. But I now at least have answers to my century-long questions – to why you hurt me, why you had to do everything you did.”
“I was the biggest asshole to not tell you earlier, to not come to the Prison and just explain. I was a coward.”
“You were,” you honestly answer, but your eyes close. “But I also know that I probably wouldn’t have listened. I would have been too wrapped up in my anger and hurt to listen or understand.”
Azriel’s eyes close again. “I was still a coward, a massive asshole, and don’t deserve you.”
“This is not about deserving each other, Azriel,” you softly whisper. “This is about healing, growth and moving on, about learning to forgive.”
You pause, trying to calm your heart that starts to beat a little faster with deep breaths. “I am not sure if I can ever forgive you, Azriel. If my heart will ever allow me to do so, but I am glad we talked. It was important for us to do so.”
“It was,” Azriel agrees, voice tinged with sadness. He tips his head back and looks at the ceiling. You follow his line of sight, only staring into the darkness and his shadows floating atop both of you. 
“What were you afraid to find?” 
Azriel is calm, then turns his head again, looking at you. You feel his gaze, sharp and piercing. “I don’t understand.”
“You said you were afraid to go see me, that you were a coward. What were you afraid of to find?”
A cold huff leaves him and then he brings his hand up, wiping it down his face. “I was afraid to find exactly what I saw in your eyes when I opened the cell door - hurt and betrayal. I hurt you so much, and I knew I would find it in those eyes that I once fell in love with.” He swallows thickly. “But I was also afraid I would be at a loss of words. That I would never be able to find the right words to talk to you. I betrayed you, hurt you so much and I knew you would never forgive me.”
You hum in understanding. 
“We needed you for help, but it was the perfect reason for me to get you out. I was forced to do so, forced to no longer be such a fucking coward. I had to go, and I wanted nothing more than to do it. There was no way back anymore. I was forced to go, and finally grew some balls to do so.” He shakes his head. “I knew what I would find there. I knew you would hate me, but I knew it was finally time for us to meet again. I had the Harp and I couldn’t wait any longer. There was a way to free you, a chance I had to take and finally could do so.”
You loose a long breath and close your eyes. You shift a little on the bed, then turn to your side and rest your head on the pillow. “I will stay here tonight if that is alright.”
You need to seal your broken heart, comfort your soul, and even if there might be no future for the two of you, this is one step into the right direction of healing.
“Always,” Azriel whispers, and you feel the bed dip, and him move. Carefully, he is tugging his blanket over you, he is still lying atop. “You want me to move to the couch.”
“No, it’s alright.” You are tired, exhausted, the conversation and the day has drained you. You only want to sleep, exhaustion nearing in waves that slowly start to drown you. Your lids are so heavy, you can’t force them open any longer. You only want to sleep. 
You tug at the blanket, signalling Azriel to slide beneath it. His closeness used to worry you, not that much anymore, knowing he won’t hurt you here. Won’t hurt you again, now that you have seen his remorse, scented his regret. 
It will be alright, you know it. 
He follows your request, and then lies down beside you, not touching you. Moments pass, moments full of deafening silence where you, despite your tiredness, can’t fall asleep. His presence doesn’t irritate you, he closeness doesn’t bother you (anymore) but it still feel strange lying here with him. Sleeping in the same bed as him after centuries of distance.
“Did you plan on how you would kill me once you get free?” Azriel then whispers and you feel something stroke over your exposed shoulder. It isn’t Azriel, but rather his shadows.
A huff leaves you. “Every day and in very much detail how I would go about it.” 
He doesn’t smile in response, he only looks at you, watches you closely until he says, “I thought so.”
You don’t answer him, only curl your fingers around the blanket, hoping to just drift off into a dreamless sleep. But Azriel has different plans. He shifts on the bed, somehow uncomfortable, and then says into the darkness. 
“I wasn’t only scared of what I would find, I was also ashamed.” He clears his throat. “I couldn’t look you in the eyes, I couldn’t even look myself in the eyes nor my brothers. I had no idea how to tell anyone, how to explain what I had done. I was a fucking coward and ashamed of the measures I took.”
“You were scared, Azriel,” you whisper. “And fear lets us do unspeakable things.”
Night and sleep falls upon you a moment after, a light comfort hovering above your hearts that makes you eventually fall asleep.
───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────
You slip out of his room before Azriel or anyone else in the House of Wind wakes up. You don’t want to face Azriel, not in the mood to talk to him and unsure of what to say to him. 
In addition, you also don’t want to face Nesta or Cassian, not wanting to have to explain to them that you just talked and nothing happened. They would probably read more into it, and maybe even find hope. Hope you don’t want to give them.
Once back in your room, you take a long moment to think, sitting down on your windowsill, leaning your forehead against the cool window, staring outside, over the still dark city, slowly waking up. 
Many thoughts cloud your mind, and despite Azriel always being in the foreground, you know that opening the box, defeating Koschei and getting your powers back is more important. You need your amulet back and you would go through hell for it. You will demand it back that day, that is clear. They have to give it to you. Then you will open the box and form a plan on how to go forward. How you will fight against Koschei, who you have to ready. And how you can start a new life in the place you were born. 
You have often found yourself wondering what the Middle has turned into, what it looks like now, after centuries. You can’t wait to go back there. You haved lived there for a long time before the Wilde Hunt led you north and you ended up in the Night Court.
The Wild Hunt.
It has been on your mind a lot lately. They…have been. You could rally them again, reform your group, lead them, maybe alongside the Valkyries…and fight alongside them, once again reunited, as one.
───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────
“So, using this spell we can open it. Our hands need to be connected, Nesta, in the other hand you will be holding Ataraxia.” You pause so they can all process the information you have just provided them with. 
Azriel said nothing to you, nor to Cassian or Nesta when he entered the kitchen in the morning. He only looked at you, then dipped his chin and smiled slightly. You returned this gesture. 
You also haven’t spoken during breakfast, and not until you found yourself gathered around the desk in Rhysand’s office. 
“But I need my amulet back for this. I need my powers.” You lift your gaze and look at Rhys first, then at Azriel. “I want it back now. I have proven my loyalty, I agreed to help you and you should know by now that I won’t harm you. It is the least you could do.”
“How do we know you won’t just run off? Or blow everything up the moment—”
Your palm slams down on the wooden table, making it groan with the impact of your loud slap. “Because I have proven my loyalty!” you growl and spin around to Amren. “Why should I do that? Do you also deem me such a cruel, sadistic monster that everyone thinks I am?” 
You walk up to her until you are in her face. “You have been in Prison as well and yet they trust. What if you go berserk in this city?”
“Give her the amulet back, Rhys!“ Amren snaps and steps backwards.
But the High Lord hesitates. 
“No, Rhys. She is right. And she has a right to her possessions.”
Slowly, Rhysand nods and then tips his head at Azriel, momentarily holding eye-contact with the shadowsinger and you know he is talking to him mind-to-mind. The shadowsinger bows his head in return and walks backwards a few steps before slipping out of the room.
Your gaze has been locked on him the whole time. And now that he is gone and you know you will get your amulet back, your heart is beating in your throat, anticipation rising. Your heirloom will finally be yours again, and your powers will return in full force. You need your amulet to channel them, it is similar to the siphons the Illyrians wear.
You feels how your palms turn a little clammy, and inhale a few deep breaths, hoping to calm yourself as much as needed. But the idea of finally being fully yourself again, excites you too much for that to be possible.
“Why do you need Nes for that? Can’t you do it alone?” Cassian‘s low rumble disturbs your day-dreaming about your powers and you whip your head into his direction. 
“Because your mate has more power blazing through her veins than you could ever imagine, Cassian.” You smile at the female in question and then turn back to her mate. “And exactly that sort of power in connection with her sword is needed. I need someone that powerful on my side to fulfill—”
“Rhys is the most powerful High Lord,” Cassian cuts in, and you laugh.
“He might be. But his power is useless here. A different kind of power is needed, one that can only be found in people like us.” You tip your chin at Nesta and then at Amren. “Like calls to like, and that is why we need to combine our strengths.”
Cassian huffs, but a bright smile lights up the Valkyrie‘s face, a hint of pride shimmering in her eyes and when she meets her mate’s gaze, his eyes take on a similar glow.
You want to add that he should indeed be proud, but you get no chance to do so. Azriel returns right in this moment, the amulet dangling from his scarred hand. 
You watch how his chest heaves with a deep intake of air. Then he moves closer. “Do you want someone else to put it back on?”
You give your head a shake and then huff. “You were the one to take it off, Azriel, you need to put it back on.” You hold his gaze as he moves closer, step by step.
You can see the whirlwind in his eyes, and how hard he is clenching his jaw. “Can you lift your—nevermind, please turn around.”
You are sure the room is holding its breath just like every person within it, you included. His scarred fingertips touch your shoulders first, brushing away your hair. “Can you lift them up please?”
You do as told and slowly, his hands reach around you. The amulet is cool at first but once it is flush with your skin it starts to buzz, humming with power. Your face lights up, and vibrations flow through your veins, making your fingertips feel tingly — the amulet is back and your powers have reached it peeked again. Of course, you need to train to be able to really use them again but the first step is accomplished.
Azriel’s hands are still on you when you turn back to him and lovk eyes with him again. 
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“Not for that,” he mumbles. “Don’t thank me for returning what always belonged to you.” His hand lifts and he brushes his hand over your head. “You look beautiful.”
Your breath catches and yoh know that despite hating it and trying so hard to fight against it, your love for him is starting to burn again, and forgiveness is truly an option already.
You don’t want to let this happen. Can’t let it happen. Not yet at least. 
You quickly step back. “Let’s open that damn box, shall we?”
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exhaslo · 15 hours
Note
Helloo! Can i request about moth reader and yandere miguel?.. I really appreciate all your writing! I hope you had a good day!
Tbh I'm not sure if you actually mean "moth" or if you meant "goth" but you know what...
Why not both? Haha, I think I have an interesting idea for it.
Warning: Possessiveness, experimentation, fluff, mentions of sex, manipulation
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This was NOT how your experiment was supposed to go.
This was NOT how you expected your life to turn out.
This was NOT how you wanted Miguel O'Hara to see you.
You had always been the oddball at your job. Most told you that it was rare to find such a 'creature' like yourself. It was always frustrating to explain to those ingrates that you were just expressing yourself the way as many did during the Great Hero Age.
You were a proud goth. Not many committed to this life style anymore as they focused more on the future. Hell, you had spent a good amount of money trying to find old CDs and Vinyl's from back in the day. There were many things that had disappeared within the last hundred years.
All you wanted to do was bring back an old culture to the year 2099!
The only person who did not mind your lifestyle was one of your regulars...
Miguel O'Hara
The man was the definition of fine. He was tall, hot and oh so perfect. He had wanted to get to know you at your little coffee shop and quickly became your regular.
Miguel was understanding. He enjoyed listening to you talk and even took your suggestions. You knew someone as perfect as him would not join in your lifestyle, but you were just happy that he bothered to give you the time to explain.
However...
How would Miguel react to you now?
You were desperate for money, so you decided to take an offer from Alchemax-the biggest company in the city...If not, the world. The only problem was that you didn't expect for the turnout. This was not what you were expecting at all!
It felt like a nightmare! You felt different already compared to your futurist coworkers, but now...to your fellow humans? Alchemax turned you into a freak! Who would bother to look at you now? What were you going to do now?!
"Ah, my dear (Y/N), how beautiful,"
---------
From the moment he laid eyes on you, Miguel knew that you were special. Call it fate, but Miguel just knew that you were meant to belong to him.
Miguel knew that he had to control himself. He didn't want to scare you after all. So, he started by stopping by your work. Bringing up small chat, getting to know you. Loving everything about you. Loving to find out new things about you.
When you weren't working, Miguel would follow you home as Spider-Man. He needed to protect you. Such a fragile human like yourself knew not of how to protect themselves. You were a target for people to pick on.
And who better to protect you than Miguel?
Miguel made sure that no man got near you. Every guy who even dared smile or tried to flirt with you disappeared. Everyone who dared give you a hard time, Miguel made sure they were taught a lesson.
The more Miguel got to know you, the more he became obsessed with you. You were perfect for him. His lovely little doll. Miguel made a special room for you in his place. Put everything you would like and even started to take some of your stuff.
This room was going to be yours very soon. That bed would be where Miguel will show you his love. Where you will conceive his child and become his wife. Your body and soul will belong to him.
Miguel knew you were short for cash. He knew that no one wanted to help a freak like you. It was a shame. Only Miguel knew how wonderful and kind you were. How amazing your lifestyle was and how this world was too naïve to embrace you.
So, Miguel thought of a plan. He watched as you accepted the offer from Alchemax and went to get your blood done. It made Miguel shudder as he watched you undress for the doctor, wanting to make sure that you were healthy for the test.
That body was only for Miguel to see, but he will let this slide since it was a woman doctor.
Once the experiment began, Miguel watched from the sidelines. He waited for his moment to swoop in and change the procedure. Why? Because Miguel was going to give you a reason to stay with him.
"What have you done?!" You cried out, sobbing at your new form.
The doctors and scientists panicked and fled to find some information and excuse for what went wrong. While Miguel stood in awe at your beautiful new form.
Your DNA was now mixed with that of a moth. You had large gorgeous wings and your hair had streaks of white. You were crotched down on the floor, sobbing as you tried to cover yourself from the bright lights.
"Ah, my dear (Y/N), how beautiful," Miguel couldn't help but say cheerfully as he approached you, "Don't cry (Y/N), it's going to be okay."
"M-Miguel? W-What are you doing here?" You sobbed quietly, covering your eyes, "I-It's so bright...I'm getting dizzy."
"Shh, I know. I know,"
Miguel was careful with your wings as he wrapped his arms around you. Your warmth was comforting. Your scent, better than he could ever imagine. Who better than to love you now than him?
"I know you're confused, but come with me. I'll take care of you."
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Miguel was true to his word. You had followed the man whom you had a crush on, scared for your new form. Miguel gently explained what happened, saying that it was an error on the scientists he watched over. Since it was under his watch, Miguel claimed to take responsibility for you.
You wanted to find it strange that Miguel already had a room for you, but you were too stressed to care. Your mind was all over the place and your body felt strange. The room was dark and cool. Much to your liking.
"(Y/N), I brought you some food." Miguel called out.
As he entered, he held up a small lantern, to which you felt drawn too. You pressed yourself against Miguel, wanting to reach for the light, but Miguel chuckled and brought you back to the bed. His hand stroked your cheek, placing the food on your dresser,
"You are so cute, (Y/N)," Miguel whispered, kissing your head. You hummed lowly,
"Why...are you so kind to me?"
"Ah," Miguel chuckled lowly as he held your hand, "Because I love you. We were meant for each other."
That sounded nice. Honestly, who would love you now as you were? Hell, who would even want anything to do with you now? You were part moth. At least now your gothic lifestyle matched your new look. Hell, it made your wings pop out more.
"Miguel...I...I um, I like you too."
-------
Yes.
YES!
Miguel could hardly control his laughter as you fell into the palm of his hand. Of course you loved him. You had no one else to turn too. No one else to help you.
Miguel made sure to keep you believing that you needed him. From helping you figure out your powers, to fucking you senselessly during the night and day.
Miguel gave you everything you wanted.
Just as long as you behaved and listen to everything he did and said. Miguel smiled as you approached him in the living room, showing off the new gothic attire he had bought for you. Doing a little spin, Miguel groaned softly as you let your wings spread.
"So beautiful." He hummed. You smiled, sitting on his lap,
"Miguel...could we go out? I want to fly for a bit," You begged.
Miguel just smiled as you waited for his response. You knew of his secret and made sure to not do anything he wouldn't like.
"Of course, baby, but I have to give you a good reminder on what to do and what not to do,"
You just nodded, smiling as Miguel pressed you against the couch. Your back to him as your wings were on full display. Miguel groaned softly as he held your waist, ready to give you some good reminders about going outside.
After all...
You were Miguel's.
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Def unique and different, so I hope you enjoyed!!!
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caeheng1999 · 2 days
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You fell asleep on their groin (accidentally) ~ Genshin Impact men x You, the reader
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Featured characters: Pantalone, Alhaitham, Wriothesley
Note: you turned them into a mess.
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Pantalone
He wakes up to some tingling sensation on his privates. His vision is quite blurry, so as soon as he puts his glasses on and comes to senses, he hisses at the sight he sees: you accidentally fell asleep on top of his groin. Your head is gently laying on top of his special area, and there is a dreamy expression on your face while you’re asleep. Pantalone freaks out as soon as he understands. He covers his mouth with his hand, praying to archons you won’t stir while on top of him. Comfortable, aye? Your face is pure tenderness and innocence, and seeing you like this he just cannot be mad at you. Pantalone is not telling you about this uncomfortable situation under any circumstance so he tries hard to not make any sound. He gently moves your head slightly to the side so you do not make contact with his crotch anymore. Once you are laying just beside him, he sighs in relief and wipes sweat off his forehead. Goodness, that was close…
Alhaitham
Alhaitham usually wakes up as soon as something disturbs him. He is sensitive to sounds and other distractions, especially during the night time. Upon seeing you sprawled out on his lap, while being on your back, Alhaitham is quite perplexed for sure. He doesn’t want to disturb an innocent creature like you even if you inconvenience him slightly. He runs his hand through your hair brushing your strands with his fingers. He sighs wearily. He is sensitive down there especially right now but as he endures the most awkward moment in his life, he starts reciting passages from the latest books he read in order to distract. He might also put on his headphones. However he won’t ever wake you up, he doesn’t want you to feel bad about it. Perhaps soon you will shift your body and everything’s settled then?
Wriothesley
The duke wakes up to the strange feeling of something pressing against his crotch and involuntarily moans. What the fuck—! You’re laying on the bottom side of the bed with your hand positioned on his groin! Fuck! He tries to recollect himself by taking deep breaths for a few seconds. The shock was inevitable and he gotta do something about it. Wriothesley carefully takes your hand and places it beside his leg so it does not make contact with his genitalia, however you draw it back. Holding for dear life Wriothesley gulps and taking your shoulders moves you around the bed. Apparently he should have done it even more gently because you wake up as soon as appear next to him. “What is it, baby?” you ask him. The duke covers his red face and turns away. “It’s nothing! Just… just go back to sleeping.” “Huh? You’re silly”, you answer wearily but upon tiredness you go back to sleep. He attempts to not dive into what happened cause he is already so very flustered.
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temis-de-leon · 1 day
Text
Day 9 - Waiting to be kissed
Characters: Lucifer x gn!MC
25 kisses challenge Masterlist
Main Masterlist
CW: average sleep paralysis demon experience, established relationship, drunk Luci
.
MC wasn’t entirely sure about reality. Their heart still pounded, desperately begging them to run from whatever creature was chasing them through the forest, but they didn’t feel the crisp air of nature anymore and they weren’t hearing the sounds of heaving and growling either.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
Their eyelids felt heavy and even though the fear of being hunted persisted, the familiar smell of their room and the warmth of the blankets helped them realize it was just a nightmare. A horrible, daunting nightmare, but a nightmare nonetheless.  
They opened their eyes with residual concern and searched for anything that could harm them, but their vision was still blurry; the pictures on the wall nearly indistinguishable and the clump of clothes on the chair imitating a slouched figure, shoulders and all. What was probably a sleeve even resembled a hand resting on a knee and when the pile inevitably moved forward due to its weight, it almost looked like it was breathing.
MC clenched their teeth waiting for the fall, but nothing came. The clothes stayed at the edge of the seat, somehow balancing on their own before going back and finally resting against the backrest.
The pile sighed, then crossed its legs.
Drenched in panic, MC grabbed their pillow and threw it towards the figure, hitting them in the face before landing on their lap.
“MC!”
They stared at his direction, struggling to trace his silhouette in the darkness before he waved his hand and made the candles in the tree light up. The glow that filled the room was, thankfully, low enough for MC to look at the demon without squinting.
“Lucifer?”
His irritation at being hit was apparent, but they couldn’t take him seriously when half of his face was covered in a faint red hue.
“You scared me, MC” he finally said, chuckling.
 “I scared you?” they repeated.
A flashed of embarrassment crossed his expression and his eyes avoided their gaze. He fidgeted in the chair for a few seconds before finally getting up and sitting at the end of the bed to stare at MC, half-lidded eyes giving them enough information to know what caused this behaviour.
MC sighed and sat against the headboard, heart still pounding at the creepy image of the demon watching them in the darkness.
“Did you drink with Diavolo today?”
“How did you know?” his eyes opened wide in surprise.
They rubbed their eyes, forcing themselves to ignore the fatigue. They’d rather not have Lucifer staring at them in their sleep again.
“I just know…”
He sat there, quietly, intertwining his fingers with a dreamy expression. Then, moving in what he probably thought was a sneaky motion, Lucifer got close to them and extended his hand. MC rolled their eyes, but accepted the gesture nonetheless.
“I sent you a message, but it seems you were sleeping” he explained, flustered “I was dying to see you”
They’d be lying if they said his words didn’t make their heart flutter, but the tiredness turned them into a very petty human.
“Well, I almost died when I saw you, so there’s that”
“I’m truly sorry, MC”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but nothing came out. His cheeks became even redder, if that was possible, before finally saying what was on his mind.
“Would you, perhaps, give me a kiss…?"
“No”
“No?”
MC stared at him and his stunned expression, leaving the lover boy act behind, and rejoiced in the way his hands flew straight to his chest like they had said something heinous.
“May I ask why?” he looked away, trying to hide his disappointment.
“You scared the shit out of me” they explained, finally laying down again and pulling their blanket over their head “Wait until tomorrow“
“But…”
“Wait. Until. Tomorrow”
They heard him sight, still seating at their feet with uncomfortableness. Rolling their eyes again with unnecessary aggressiveness, MC patted the empty space by their side and tried not to smile when he eagerly dived to the mattress.
“Put out the candles”
“Will you kiss me in the morning?” he immediately asked in return, doing as they ordered. The room filled with darkness again, but his arm over their waist and his breathing against their neck chased the fears away.
“Yes, I’ll kiss you in the morning”
They felt his smile on their skin and MC couldn’t help but repeat the gesture. They grabbed his hand, holding it tight, and waited for sleep to reclaim their consciousness again.
With Lucifer by their side, it didn’t take too long.
.
.
Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @beatlebeesstuff   @mehkers
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soapymansuds · 3 days
Text
Eternity and Counting
(Pt2. Also pretty short but I'm kinda just handling introductory stuff, so bear with me. Uploads will be made every Tuesday for as long as I have stuff to upload. Thank you for your support, hope you enjoy!!)
Pt1
Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)
TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad.
MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.
When did it get so bright? I'd swear I was staring into the face of the sun if it weren't for the gentle breeze that sways my hair. I open my eyes just barely, blinking away the glare of my surroundings. I'm acutely aware of several voices around me, one of which is more familiar than I'd like. How could it not have worked? It's impossible. I was certain that those herbs would take me out. And so was everybody else, because even if I hadn't done my research, Barbatos kept them locked in a special cabinet for ingredients never to be used while I was in the castle. I had to have died.
As the world around me slowly blinks into view, I'm greeted by a terrifying sight. Simeon sits crouched before me, worry and fear marring his perfect skin. His voice is muffled and foggy as he speaks,  but slowly I recognize his question.
"What have you done?"
It's soft. Gentle. Like when my mother used to ask after I had made a small, albeit amusing, mess. I consider for a moment how to answer him. I want to ask him what he thinks I've done, but the sarcasm feels like it'd be more painful now than it usually would. So instead I take my moment of consideration to look around. I've been to the celestial realm before, but this feels different. Suddenly, I find my answer. A pair of answers really, fluttering against my back.
"I failed... Again..." I whisper, staring at my hands, and soon the tears falling onto them. "Fuck me, you'd think killing yourself would be harder to mess up." Something maniacal in me laughs. It's hard to say if I'm laughing at my joke or myself. Maybe it's both.
When I look up, Simeon's face has shot from worry to deep, deep concern. He's quick to pull out his phone, but I'm quicker to bat it out of his hand.
"You can't. You can't tell them." I mumble, not breaking eye contact. "It's bad enough you have to know, Luke will find out I'm sure. But they can't..."
"MC, they deserve to know! Do you know how worried they are right now? You've been dead a whole month!" He's nearly yelling, but his expression doesn't change much. It's hard to tell if he's angry or confused. Maybe he's both.
"They deserve to move on Simeon. You all do, I'm just sorry I've managed to fuck up your opportunity to do it. They got their letters, they know why I did it. So do you. It would be unfair of me to put them through all of that, give them an opportunity to live without me dragging them down, just to turn around a month later and force myself back into their lives because I didn't have to forethought to consider I could have been reborn an Angel!" It's not that I hadn't considered it. I had just assumed suicide knocked you off the divine rebirth roster. Guess I should have checked.
Simeon looks prepared to say something back but is quickly cut off by another voice.
"So this is the great MC I've heard so much about." He chuckles, stepping out from behind Simeon. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, though I do wish it was under better circumstances." his head tilts as if he's considering the whole ordeal. "I'm certain Lucifer would be ecstatic to hear the news, but if you insist on secrecy, that can be arranged."
"Michael I-" Simeon begins but stops quickly, fixing his tone and face to seem more proffesional. "Are you certain? Their absence has caused such a stir in the Devildom." He looks back at me like he's expecting that to change my mind more than Michael's.
"The Devildom can handle its own turmoil. We owe our loyalties to the angels of the Celestial realm. And if our new angel here wishes to hide their presence from Lord Diavolo himself, then I'll do what I can. For now, at the very least. And if you ever change your mind, I can help you then as well." He nods, holding a hand out to help me to my feet. I take it cautiously, finding a new balance in my stance with the additional weight on my back. I never expected these to be so heavy. And getting a better look at them now, they're huge. Rivaling Lucifer's, in span at least.
"If you'd like, I have a private garden. You may spend your days there for as long as you want." He grins, something strangely knowing in his eyes.
(Thank you for visiting my silly little stories. Like I said, uploads should be pretty consistent, but if you'd like a friendly reminder, comment to be added to the tag list!)
-Your friend, The Author
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superstarz9 · 2 days
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So y’all fw Mr. Puzzles hcs?
Cause I got some :]
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So canonically, based off the emerging movements he makes going from tv mode to ‘normal’ mode and the appearance of his arms/legs, there isn’t much of Puzzles that’s human anymore. The closest things he may have left is his heart and lungs (since he smokes, but that’s also a stretch).
While I prefer the idea thar he smokes, I like to think that he only holds the cigarette and pretends to smoke with a small smoke machine in the back, since the cig isn’t actually lit in the scene (not on purpose, of course).
As a kid, he was inspired to smoke from the old cigarette ads in cartoons (like the Flintstones Winston commercial).
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He loves cooking shows and remaking the recipes, but he can’t eat. For a relationship hc (platonic or romantic), he’d probably love making food for you and get feedback on his cooking (eg, more spices, cook more/less, different recommendations). And compliments, of course. Always gotta compliment the chef, after all.
Body-wise (and this one might be kinda gross cause of minor body horror so skip if not comfortable), since we’ve established that there isn’t anything organic anymore about his body, he probably looks like a wire version of muscle anatomy. He’s very self-conscious about this, and tries to hide it the best of his abilities (long clothes, wrapping his arms to keep his shirt in place, the gloves). To add, his brain is probably a unique motherboard with wires surrounding it like a brain.
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He sees and hears through the antennas, and makes sure to keep then aligned as much as possible. If one of them is slightly bent out of their usual shape, things look and sound very broken, like your vision going in and out. To add, the top dial changes the channel from his expressions to a specific show, and the lower dial adjusts his volume.
Technically canon but he has heterochromia! His right eye is dark brownish and his left is light blue. (He has homophobia in his eyes 😔 /j /ref)
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We already know he stims lets bffr.
My friend’s hc: His angry/scary/humanoid face is parts of his original face, as well as the face that glitches during the movie’s end (I stg I know where that face is from. I wanna say Jack Stauber but I know it’s some kind of claymation. Speaking of Jack Stauber, Mr. Puzzles kinda gives Mirror Man vibes, y’know?).
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Since he’s not as human anymore, he doesn’t get sick normally. However, he can get versions of illnesses through similar methods. He can overheat and power off on hot days, and he’s probably not great in rain. His signal also jams when it rains, so he’d constantly be bumping into stuff and wouldn’t be able to control the channels properly (I say control the channels cause idk what else to call it but that thing he does in the movie where he runs all the channels in his head and stuff. His head’s still a fully functional tv after all). If he’s shocked with lighting or smth, he’ll lose his signal, which is his equivalent of going into a coma.
Speaking of rain, he’ll try his best to be on top of the weather and carry an umbrella. However, if he doesn’t have actors for the weather channel and is preoccupied with other projects, he’ll be stuck at the studio waiting out the storm. Relationship hcs for this can be rlly funny. You’d catch him all bitter about the sudden rain as he stands by the door waiting for a cab or smth. If you pull out an umbrella, he’s turn into an absolute drama queen. “Oh, it’s such a TRAVESTY! This HORRIBLE rain just WON’T lighten up! Oh, if only there was someone so kind and caring who’d share their umbrella with me!” You could a) not share the umbrella and receive an even more bitter Puzzles, b) insist on holding the umbrella and have him walk with you awkwardly, or c) give him the umbrella but he holds it so high that you still get wet.
Despite his hatred for the rain, it’s one of the few things he can still enjoy about his humanity. Being a bunch of wires and other tech, he can’t feel anything, just being numb, minus a light electrical pulse, similar to a heart beat. He can’t feel specific textures but can grab and roughly identify objects. However, he can feel the rain and how different it is from other things, and it reconnects him with the real world. For any Steven Universe fans, it’s like Peridot stepping out into the rain for the first time, but more somber.
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If he’s out in the rain one day, he’s sick the next. When he sneezes, his screen goes static-y for the moment.
When he sleeps, he has a black screen with the small “sleep mode” pop-up in the corner. He’s also a very light sleeper.
When he zones out, it’s the Puzzlevision logo bouncing across the screen as a screen-saver.
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Aight that’s all I got right now. If this does well I’ll post some more!
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engstlerswife · 13 hours
Note
could you do angst emily x reader? like them getting into fight or something like that!
situationship with emily engstler - Part 2
They had got back from the party an hour ago, Emily's still pacing back and forth in her room, her frustration reaching a boiling point.
Y/N had promised her that she wouldn't go to the party tonight. She clenched her fists, her jaw tight with anger.
"Y/N!" Emily yelled, her voice echoing off the walls of the empty room.
Y/N exited the shower, still in her towel and sauntered into the room, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Y/n had been drinking heavily and didn't understand how upset she made Emily, taking the situation as a joke. "Whats up?"
"What's up?" Emily scoffed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Don't play dumb with me. We need to talk about that party."
Y/N rolled her eyes, crossing her arms defiantly. "So what if I went Emily. It's not like it's a big deal."
"Not a big deal?" Emily repeated incredulously. "You promised me you wouldn't go, Y/N. I fucking trusted you."
Y/N laughed, unfazed by Emily's anger. "You need to relax, Em. It's not like I'm doing anything wrong. I just wanted to have some fun."
"Fun?" Emily spat, her anger bubbling over. "You think sneaking out behind my back is fun? You think lying to me is fun?"
Y/N scoffed, a defiant gleam in her eyes. "Maybe I do. Maybe I'm tired of you trying to control me all the time when we're not even together."
Emily's blood boiled at Y/N's words. "Control you? Is that what you think I'm doing!? I'm just trying to keep you safe, Y/N. And you acting like this is the exact reason I haven't asked you out yet! Can't you see that?"
Y/N scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. "Keep me safe? Please. I can take care of myself, Emily. I don't need you to protect me."
Emily cursed under her breath, her frustration reaching a breaking point. "You're so damn stubborn, Y/N. You never listen to me. Anything could've happen to you at the party, and I told you that, but you went anyway!"
Y/N's eyes flashed with anger, her voice sharp as a knife. "And you're so damn controlling, Emily. You never let me breathe."
The room fell silent, the tension between them thick like a fog. Emily could feel her chest constricting with emotion, her anger mixing with hurt and frustration.
"I can't do this anymore, Y/N," Emily whispered, her voice breaking. "I can't keep fighting with you like this."
Y/N's expression softened, a flicker of remorse crossing her features. "Emily, I..."
But before she could finish her sentence, Emily turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Alone in the silence of the empty room, Y/N sank down onto the bed, her heart heavy with regret. She knew she had crossed a line tonight, and she knew she had hurt Emily deeply.
But as she sat there in the darkness, she couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this was a line they couldn't come back from.
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Text
Forgiveness Is A Luxury
"I swear to the gods, Solace, if you mess this shit up-"
Pop.
"AUGH!"
"Hold still, Clarisse."
The brunette snarled, and for a moment Will was convinced she would skewer him with her spear. He gave a placating smile. "Sorry."
"Fuck you." Clarisse's expression indicated that she was definitely about to skewer him with her spear.
Will pretended not to notice. "The shoulder should be sore for a little while, just take some ambrosia and you should be fine."
"You enjoyed that," she accused, reaching a hand to rub her shoulder. It had been dislocated moments before, and Will had just popped it back into place. She winced, flexing her bicep a little. "Shit. Can I still spar like this?"
Will almost rolled his eyes; to think that sparring was the first thing on her mind was exasperating. Ares kids. Did they never think of anything else? "Probably not. You should wait 3-4 days before doing anything physically taxing. Maybe do something else, like pottery-"
"Pottery? I'm going to kill Sherman!" Clarisse growled, rising from her chair. She towered over Will by at least a few inches, and he was struck with the urge to stand on his tiptoes, as if it were some sort of height contest. For the gods' sake. "Thanks, Solace, I guess."
"Don't be too rough on Sherman," he replied. She made a rude gesture (so civilized), snatched up her spear, and stalked off (presumably to go yell at poor Sherman- Will suspected he knew who the next patient in the infirmary would be). As she left, she passed by a stumbling, bruised-faced dark haired boy.
"Percy," Will greeted him, careful to keep his voice neutral.
Though he would never admit it, his feelings toward Percy were...complicated. On one hand, Percy was the savior of Olympus, survivor of Tartarus, legendary hero to rival even the ancient ones. He'd even convinced the gods to change the tradition of claiming demigods- one of his greatest feats yet. That was what everyone saw him as- one of the generation's champions.
But when he looked at Percy, all Will ever saw was his dead siblings.
"Hey, Will," Percy managed a weary smile. His face was swollen with ugly spots of purple and yellow. From sparring, probably- that was all anyone ever did these days. Spar, spar, spar. What was even the point? It wasn't as if they were fighting a war anymore. Things were supposed to be better, more peaceful. Was that too much to ask for?
Focus, Solace. Will gave himself a little shake. His ADHD really did get out of hand sometimes.
He gestured to the chair Clarisse had previously occupied; Percy sat down, wincing slightly from his injuries, and Will reached over to grab a new pair of gloves. He snapped them on, and asked, "Sparring?"
"Yeah." Percy gave a pained grunt as Will grabbed his chin to tilt his face up for a better look. "Thalia kicked my ass."
"The Hunters are here?" Will's mind instantly leapt to Nico; how would he feel? The son of Hades had never truly lost his grudge against the Hunters of Artemis for taking his sister. "I thought they weren't due till December."
"Change of plans, I guess," said Percy. He squirmed as Will began to apply a thick paste to his face. "This is way too sticky." He pulled a revolted face. "Do you really have to put this on? It stinks."
"It's procedure."
"Says who?"
Will shot him a sharp look. "My brother."
It was technically Lee who made that policy, but Percy flinched, undeniably thinking of Michael.
They settled into a quiet silence, weighted only by Percy's discontented grunts as Will applied a second layer. The blond pulled away at last, wheeled around, and stripped off his gloves, tossing them into the trash can. "That should be it. Come by if a rash breaks out or your cheek starts swelling."
"Alright," said Percy. Will turned to the sink, turning on the faucet and running his hands beneath the rush of water. It was only after he started to scrub with soap, he realized he hadn't heard the footsteps of Percy walking away.
He stole a glance over his shoulder- Percy still sat in the stool, fidgeting with his fingers. He looked like he was gearing himself up for something.
"Do you need something else?"
Percy shook his head. "No," he said slowly, as if uncertain.
Will frowned, then turned back to the sink. As he grabbed a paper towel, Percy cleared his throat. "So," he said. "Um."
"Yes?"
"You and Nico...you guys are, like..."
Will scowled, turning around. "We're what?" he said defensively, his fists clenching.
"Nothing," said Percy hastily, looking guilty and rather alarmed at Will's uncharacteristically aggressive response. "Nothing- I just...didn't expect it, that's all." He cleared his throat. "I'm happy for you, man. Really."
There wasn't anything scathing Will could really say to that, so he busied himself with a new pair of gloves. "I have a patient coming in a few minutes," he said brusquely. "I'm performing a surgery. You should probably leave."
"A surgery?" Now Percy definitely looked alarmed. "I thought you're fifteen?"
"I'm a medic. I'm used to this." And I wouldn't have to be if Lee and Michael were still here.
The dark-haired boy looked at him, for a few moments, his expression contemplative. At last, he spoke in a tentative, gentle tone, one that would be used to coax a skittish animal. "Is...is this about your brothers?"
Will stiffened, his jaw clenching. He considered throttling Percy for a moment; his hand even made the gesture. Brothers. Never mind the sisters he had lost. But Percy's expression was so earnest, so genuine...his fist relaxed, slumping to his side.
"I think you should go."
He wasn't used to being cold to others; he was the sunshine boy, after all. But Percy's presence made it surprisingly easy, and maybe little too good at it.
The son of Poseidon visibly deflated. "Right. Sorry," he said, rising from the stool. The culpability in his face almost made Will apologize- but then he ground his teeth and reminded himself that this was Percy fucking Jackson. Accidentally or not, this boy was the reason Will had spent his summer burying his siblings' bodies and mourning their absences. He didn't deserve forgiveness.
"Will?" Percy was at the door, fingers curled around the knob. His lips pursed. "For the record, I-I'm really sorry. I never meant for it to happen."
There were a million things Will could've said (do you think i care?, sure you didn't, that doesn't bring them back) but he just shrugged and reached for his medical kit, pretending not to have heard.
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IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG OVERDUE LMAO WRITERS BLOCK HAS BEEN A BITCH
so i decided not to end this on a good note since i can't really see Will ever forgiving Percy for what happened to his siblings. And, of course, Percy feels guilty (even tho it's not his fault). So this is just a lose-lose situation honestly.
This fic was heavily inspired by @mediumgayitalian's work, go check her out!! she's an amazing writer!!!
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ladysroom-zaza · 3 days
Note
Seulgi loses a bet and has to answer the door completely naked to the delivery person and offer themselves as a "tip".
You hated working as delivery girl the Friday night, it was just this endless repetition of "take the pizza from the shop, arrive to the building, deliver the food, repeat". You groaned, completely bored, while coming out from the elevator. You walked till the right door and you knocked, waiting for someone to open you.
On the other side of the door Seulgi was destroying her lip for how strong she was biting it. Stupid games night, she hated those. Why did she even accept such a risky bet in first place? Well, it was too late to complain, her fate was knocking on the door.
When the door was opened, you couldn't believe your own eyes: one of the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen was standing naked in front of you as if it was nothing. "Uhm...ehm...I...", your brain didn't seem interested in helping you at all in that situation.
"You are here to deliver the pizza, right?", Seulgi asked kindly, even if she could clearly see the boxes between your hands. You seemed really cute and she wanted to help you, maybe this bet was not such a bad idea...
"Oh...yes, sorry. The total is 30$", you finally managed to interact with her. She took the boxes and put them aside. "30$ plus tip, right?", she asked in a flirty tone, caressing your hand, while slowly pulling you inside.
"I mean, if you want...", you said in a breath, unable to stop looking at her body. "Yes, I definitely want", she made the first move, kissing you. Her soft lips meeting yours. Being professional was not an option anymore.
You lightly pushed her body against the wall, making her squirm under your touch. "I'm in your hands", she whispered in your ear, and that was actually a funny choice of words because your hands were just moving down till groping her bare ass.
It was so fat and soft that it was a crime to not squeeze it until she moaned. But her ass was not the only place your hands were going to visit: her sweet hole was the next target. They started rubbing around her pussy, caressing her folds.
"You are so wet, aren't you?", you teased her and she could only nod embarassed. Her expression was adorable and expectant, but soon it became a face full of pleasure when you finally moved your fingers inside.
"Ahhh... don't stop", she moaned, pulling your body impossibly close. "Stop? Girl, don't joke", you reassured her in your own way. Now it was your head moving down, going to taste those pink nipples that got your attention since when she opened the door.
Seulgi couldn't believe to what was happening to her: a complete stranger was sucking her tits while fingering her, she was such a slut... and she loved that. You also couldn't believe to your luck: this incredibly hot woman offered for you for no reason and she was already under your thumb.
"Fuck...fuck...ahhh", Seulgi loudly moaned, while releasing her juices all over your hand, before sitting down exhausted. She surely didn't expect to close her for few moments and, opening them again, to be face to pussy with you.
Yeah, because in an instant your work trousers were gone and now it was your turn to feel good. "This will taste even better than pizza", you moked her, while grinding your pussy lips against her mouth lips.
Even if surprised, she immediately started to use your tongue to exchange the favor. Her tongue was moving from left to right, up and down, inside and outside. This naked woman didn't stop to surprise you.
The way her grip was so firm on your ass, her face was glued to your cunt, eating you as if she was starving. She didn't let you even when you was spasming and covering her face with your juices, she instead licked you down until you were clean.
"Should we...go for another round?, you asked, panting. "...please yes", she shyly accepted your proposal. Few moments later you both were again slurping each other pussy, in the 69 position. That entrance hall was a mess of moans and wet sounds.
Seulgi tongue movements were clean and precise, knowing exactly how to use it to make you have another orgasm. On the other hand, you were so chaotic and messy, but despite that you were doing extremely well, judging by how much her legs were trembling.
At the end you were just eating the pizza she ordered on the floor, next to each other, still naked. The fact that even while eating you couldn't stop kissing each other was a good signal, it was not going to be one time only. Too bad for the four girls waiting for their food in the living room for an hour and that heard everything.
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traffic-light-eyes · 2 days
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Lloyd is a chronic insomniac. He doesn't know when it started, but he has never been able to sleep. If he thinks he's enough, it started around when he got shipped off to Darkley's. Something about pranks in his sleep and being too scared to leave his body vulnerable to attack.
It doesn't matter how it started, though, because now he can't sleep. It's a curse, really, to be left alone in his own mind - trapped with no reprieve from the crushing weight of his mountain-heavy mistakes.
He stays up all night laying in his bed just thinking. Thinking about his dad - no, that's not his dad - Garmadon, thinking about Zane's death, thinking about Cole's death, thinking about Nya's death, thinking about everything that he has ever done that brought him to this very breaking point. He thinks.
It'd gotten to a place where he doesn’t even care about sleeping anymore; he just wants to rest his brain. He just wants to turn it off for a little while. Just for a second. He'd settle for half.
Some nights, he doesn't bother pretending to try and sleep. He gets out of his bed under the pretense of a glass of water or the bathroom, then spends the rest of the night training or watching his favorite shows. But that can only happen so often before someone notices his absence, which is exactly what happened today.
He couldn't sleep like any other day, which is normal. As he lay there in the darkness, Lloyd's mind raced with thoughts that felt like a whirlwind of regrets and missed opportunities. It wasn't just the physical exhaustion that plagued him; it was the relentless barrage of memories and what-ifs that kept him prisoner in his own mind. He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but no matter how he shifted, sleep eluded him like a distant dream.
His eyes flickered to the digital clock on his bedside table, its numbers mocking him as they steadily ticked away the minutes of another sleepless night. 2:37 AM. It was a familiar sight by now, the harsh glow of the numbers serving as a constant reminder of his insomnia.
With a sigh, Lloyd pushed himself up into a sitting position, his gaze wandering to the window where the moon cast its silver light into his room. He longed for the peace that sleep promised, the temporary escape from the relentless burden of his thoughts. But it seemed that peace was as elusive as sleep itself.
Turning away from the window, Lloyd swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, the cool floor sending a shiver up his spine. He knew he should try to sleep, should at least make the effort to rest his weary mind. But the thought of lying there in the darkness, alone with his thoughts, was too much to bear.
Instead, he padded silently across the room, careful not to wake his sleeping teammates. He had become adept at moving silently in the night, a skill born out of necessity rather than choice. As he reached the door, he paused, his hand hovering over the handle.
Should he go back to bed and try to sleep, or should he give in to the urge to escape his own mind? It was a question he grappled with every night, a battle between exhaustion and restlessness.
In the end, the pull of the training room was too strong to resist. With a determined nod, Lloyd pushed open the door and slipped out into the hallway, the darkness swallowing him whole as he made his way towards the familiar glow of the training lights. Perhaps tonight, he thought, he would find some solace in the rhythmic movements of his training routine, a temporary distraction from the turmoil within.
After Lloyd had trained for a while, lost in the rhythm of his movements, he heard the soft creak of the training room door opening behind him. Turning, he saw his teammates entering, their expressions soft with concern.
"Lloyd, we noticed you were gone again," Nya said gently, stepping forward to stand beside him.
Lloyd's heart skipped a beat, a mix of surprise and apprehension swirling within him. He hadn't expected them to follow him, to witness his midnight training sessions.
"Yeah, we were worried about you," Jay added, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced with a more serious tone.
Lloyd shifted uncomfortably, feeling exposed under their watchful gazes. He had always been so careful to keep his struggles hidden, to bear the weight of his insomnia alone. But now, faced with the concern of his teammates, he found himself at a loss for words.
"I..." Lloyd began, his voice faltering as he searched for the right words. "I didn't mean to worry you."
Kai stepped forward, his expression softened with understanding. "We know, Lloyd. But we're a team, remember? We look out for each other."
Lloyd felt a lump form in his throat at Kai's words, a surge of emotion welling up within him. For so long, he had felt isolated by his struggles, alone in the darkness of his own mind. But here, surrounded by his teammates who had become more like family, he realized that he didn't have to face his demons alone.
As they gathered around him, offering words of encouragement and support, Lloyd felt a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over him. He may never be free from his insomnia, may never fully escape the nightmares that haunted his sleepless nights. But with his teammates by his side, he knew that he would never have to face them alone.
And as they stood together in the quiet of the training room, Lloyd couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope ignite within him, a beacon of light in the darkness of his endless night.
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This one was rushed !! Sorry <3
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