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#and trying to write in a voice that wasn’t mine made me HATE writing
unboundbnha · 4 months
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I’ve started *gags, chokes* writing….again….*spits out blood, gasps and gurgles as I fall to the ground*
#AUGUUGHDHDHDHDG HHHHGNBDHBGHB#it feels like pulling teeth ngl#I’ve had this fic idea in my head for over a year now and I only ever poked at it#never really like. got deep into it#just wrote the fun stuff#but I didn’t have a timeline or even a true PLOT it was just kind of my brainchild#so tonight I buckled down and wrote out the timeline. like 90% of it at least#I cleaned up my old document and took out the bits that didn’t work#reordered it into something resembling chronological#and YES it hurts but it also feels AMAZING#because. okay. I have a complicated relationship with writing#I used to love it. a lot. it was my favorite pastime#but then I started hating my writing voice because it was (is) *weird*#I like to write horror and I have a writing voice somewhat similar to Douglas Adams#and when I was younger I tried really hard to change my writing voice because again. I hated it. I thought it was weird and silly#and trying to write in a voice that wasn’t mine made me HATE writing#so I literally put down fic for 10yrs and didn’t write a damn word#until January of 2023 when I finally started poking away at this document#I only have 25 pages and it’s not connected or fluid and there’s some things that don’t quite make sense#but I have my timeline now! and I know where all the pieces go#I know how to get from point A to B to C#and. WHEW. it feels GREAT.#again it was like pulling teeth but also so fucking awesome#I’m nervous but excited. excited but nervous#and I hope — with enough time and polishing — I will feel confident enough to publish it :’)#Zilla’s things
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 17 days
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Broken Promises and New Promises » Tyler Owens
Pairings: Husband!Tyler Owens x Wife/Pregnant!Reader
Summary: Tyler breaks a promise to you and he regrets it and promises you something you can’t resist.
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, language, crying, kissing, pet names
A/N: @cevansbaby-dove and I were talking about this and she encouraged me to write it🩷
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.
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“You promised!” You say, following Tyler outside to his truck.
“I know, but this was completely unexpected, sweetheart.” Tyler says, putting his bag in his truck.
You huff and crossed your arms over your chest. Ever since you and Tyler found out you’re pregnant with your first child, he promised to not wrangle as many tornadoes as he used to, but he hasn’t really held up his end of the promise. You’re currently almost 6 months pregnant.
“Tyler, you promised you wouldn’t wrangle as much when we found out I was pregnant.” You say.
“I know, but it’s too late for me to back out now.” He says.
“You promised.” You say again.
“I know.” He says.
“Promises have to be broken once in a while!” He snaps.
“Just leave. Apparently, tornados are more important to you than your wife and baby.” You say, your voice cracking.
Tyler immediately regretted raising his voice at you when he heard your voice crack. Tears streamed down your face as you walked back to the house. It wasn’t just what Tyler said that made you cry, it was also the pregnancy hormones.
“God damn it.” Tyler mutters to himself, frustrated at himself cause he raised his voice at you.
Tyler leaned against his truck for a few seconds and sighed loudly. He didn’t mean to snap at you. He was just trying to get you to understand that he couldn’t turn down this tornado. He pushed himself off the side of his truck and walked towards the house. He walked up the steps to the porch and grabbed your arm, stopping you from going inside of the house.
“Tyler, let go of me.” You say through tears, trying to get your arm out of his hand.
“I’m not leaving, not like this.” Tyler says.
Tyler walked you over to the porch swing and sat down with you. You didn’t want to make eye contact with him, because he raised his voice at you.
“I didn’t mean to say that, sweetheart.” He starts. “This tornado is last minute and we usually have a plan beforehand, but we don’t.” He explains. “You and this baby are way more important to me than tornados.” He says.
“You promised.” You say once more and sniffled.
“I know and I’m sorry.” He apologizes. “What can I do to make it up to you?” He asks.
You tapped your fingers against your baby bump while thinking about it.
“I want to go with you.” You say.
“No.” Tyler immediately shot that down. “I am not putting you and our unborn child in danger like that.” He put his hand on your baby bump. “I don’t want either of you getting hurt.” He says.
“But Tyler!” You whined.
“I said no.” He said sternly. “I don’t want you and our baby to get hurt in any way. I don’t want to loose either of you.” He says softly.
You pouted and looked down, tears filling your eyes again. He moved closer to you and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your temple.
“How about we go on a lunch date and spend the whole day together when I get back?” Tyler suggests softly, knowing you can’t resist it.
“Can we go shopping for baby stuff too?” You asked, looking up at your husband.
“Of course we can, darlin’.” He answers with a smile.
A smile grew on your face and you leaned up, kissing Tyler sweetly.
“I hate to say this, but I really do have to go.” Tyler says.
You whined, not wanting your husband to leave. Tyler stood up, pulling you up with him. You two walked hand and hand to his truck. Tyler got in his truck and rolled down the window. He reached an arm out of the window and held your hand for a moment.
“I’ll be back in a couple days, sweetheart.” Tyler says.
“Promise?” You asked.
“Promise.” He says softly.
Tyler leaned out of the truck window and you stood up on your tippy toes to give each other one more kiss.
“Keep mama safe for me while I’m gone, little wrangler.” He says, putting his hand on your baby bump.
You giggled at the nickname Tyler gave the baby. His hand moved up to caress your cheek. You put your hand over his and leaned into his touch.
“I love you, darlin’.” Tyler says, looking deep in your eyes.
“I love you too, cowboy.” You say, smiling up at your husband.
🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️
Glen Powell characters tags: @cevansbaby-dove
-Bucky’s Doll
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futureplayboibunnie · 11 months
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Heartless Pt. 4
Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.
thank you for all the love so far! also this is my personal touch for this fic, but while i was writing it i was listening to the entire Honeymoon album by lana del rey (especially the instrumentals) i’d recommend listenting to it. it fits this vibe so perfectly, literally trying to encapsulate that feeling with this series.
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“I'm in the middle of something.” You piped up nonchalantly, like being half naked and dripping with water in front of men was a completely normal occurrence. “Well, now that you're here, it would be nice if you were helpful by getting my bags.” You said with a wry, and slightly pissed-off smile. He just observed you with darkened eyes and a grinding jaw, if he pressed harder you would practically hear the bones crunch together. The look you gave him was an urging one. “So what will it be? Gaping at me blankly or being mildly helpful?” Your tone was aggravating, grating the inside of his head- your glib comments were making him realize that you were actually capable of disrespecting him.
Miguel didn't know what to make of you in his room like this, acting as if it were your own. It wasn't. But you were married now. Technically, what was his was yours. He didn't like it. He sneered, his features merely angry slashes contorting up his face. “I'm not your sniffer dog.” He barked, storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard that it closed and sprung back open. You rolled your eyes at his outburst, but you had to admit, it was a little unnerving to see him lose his temper that quickly. Miguel huffed, grabbed your stupid bag, and slammed the door open like a bull in a china shop. “Here, and get out of the room. It's mine.”
“What? I was in here first.” You protested in vain, you were the one who was dragged away on a honeymoon, you were the one who was being ordered around like a stuck-up child. The least he could do was let you sleep wherever you wanted to sleep.
“Well, I own the fucking building.” Miguel bit back deadpan, his voice flat and so sadistically arrogant, like money was all that made him. It was an insult to the whole idea of humanity to rely on something as belittling as money.
Miguel's head was storming, dissecting every single premonition about you and how you could so easily flip on him, he would tolerate your disrespect for now, you hadn't properly settled in yet, but if you made it a habit, he'd make you regret it. It should be funny, Miguel was so proper and particular about his women. There were things he liked and didn't like on women. He hated flats. He only liked certain colors. He hated jeans. He liked skirts and dresses for...easy access. He liked his women easy, and you were definitely not easy. You were making it difficult for him on purpose now. But for some reason, defiance suited you more than nonchalant complacency. It was more entertaining than the graceful, polite facade you shirked up.
“Can I put my clothes on now?” You objected, snapping him out of his pondering, looking like an idiot just glaring at you like this.
Part of him wanted to say ‘Well. No. I'd prefer you with nothing on actually.' His steely resolve almost broke at the realization, but he shook his head and pushed it down. Yes, you were attractive but your personality was a mystery for him, he was battling his own personal mysteries, and he didn't have time to psychoanalyze anyone elses.
-
You slept...okay. Miguel didn't disturb you or actually force you out of his room which was odd. He probably had enough of this senseless bickering, you'd probably just go back to ignoring each other, maybe at least try to independently enjoy this stupid 'honeymoon.’
The sun woke you up sweetly, and the soft gentle breeze billowed through the open curtains, offering the hum of salt air whispering through the room. You wanted to avoid Miguel as long as you could, so you decided to just go in the garden, sunbathe, read a book, do something meaningless to just forget about the fact you're married to one of the most dangerous men you've ever met.
You practically jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, splashed your face with water, brushed your hair, and put it up in a claw clip with the speed of an Olympic runner. But what was all the hurrying for when you were completely stumped on what to wear? You tossed out your clothes and put them all away, you ultimately decided to wear a bikini and on top a cute mid-thigh sundress, you weren't going anywhere too fancy, the back garden wasn't exactly Paris fashion week. When you glanced outside the terrace, you were happy to see that the garden was adorned with carefully cut shrubs, willowing trees, orchids, and chrysanthemums. Considering Miguel rarely leaves for leisure, it was a surprise that is was being kept up - it must have meant a lot to him then. You grabbed your things and opened the door quietly, wanting to sneak out as soundlessly as possible in order not to attract attention from Miguel, or worse, be the reason to wake him up.
You padded away barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun outside surround you as it seeped through every glass window.
Even though Miguel told you to get used to his lifestyle, you still hadn't settled in, something just didn't sit quite right with you. You were fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family but the way Miguel wasn't bothered by the sheer amount of blood money he acquired is...distasteful. Thinking of which, you peeked your head around the corner in order to see if Miguel was awake but instead you found something else. He wasn't in bed at all. He was asleep, his hands were crossed on the kitchen counter and his head was flat on his upper arm, fast asleep with his laptop open in front of him Jesus. He still hadn't changed. What was it with men not wanting to take care of themselves?
You shifted towards him, inching closer and closer to his sleeping form. Wow. He almost looked peaceful, not full of that mindless aggression he was known for. His copper hair was tousled and disheveled, his golden skin was creased but reflective against the light, and his breathing was slow and heavy- it was odd seeing him this relaxed when he wasn't even in a relaxing position in the first place. You raised an eyebrow at his disposition. Maybe Miguel wanted to outsmart and outwit sleep, he obviously had to succumb to its charms. You worked your way around the kitchen island, unable to stop looking at him like this, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and just stood and stared at him like a creep. You really should leave before he wakes up, but you didn't want him sending his capos combing the entire complex for you, so you just left him a note.
In the garden.
-
Miguel heard a gunshot.
It reverberated in his ears.
More gunshots. Thousands of rounds smoking away.
His eyes widened, and the sleep left his bones. His head spun around, shifting erratically, and he almost fell off the fucking chair. A tight anxiety squeezed the color out of his face, the heavy breaths wouldn't bring any solance to any of the fragments falling at his palms. His chest filled with panic, and the first thing that came into his head to find was you. He eyed your note and rushed down as fast as he could. He needed to get you out of here.
But then all he heard was silence when he stepped out onto the patio. A muffling silence. Then the sharp hum of wildlife, the birds chirping, the distant sounds of the beach, the flattening waves. The crickets trilled and the leaves rustled, the nostalgia of the oddly familiar sounds crept up on him like a disillusioning shadow. An itch he couldn't scratch. A never-ending nightmare he couldn't end. A man with everything he could ever want, but no clear consciousness, no clear mind. He was blind and tortured.
You were lying on a sunbed, and Miguel only caught onto your back and a little bit of your side profile. His eyes were dead set on you, contemplating you...and there you are, emerging in his eyeline. Those flashes of skin become a painting, a jigsaw puzzle coming together. He was slow in his movements, finally viewing you as you were. You were lying there, glowing in a small bikini, taking in the sun like a nymph. Your body was so….
Miguel frowned.
The apple you bit into was stuck to your teeth, you stopped everything you were doing, pausing for your eyes to follow from Miguel's thighs to his face. This was the moment where he saw you as if you were like a deer in headlights, like a naive girl who tries to hide behind back-talk and retaliation. The wide-eyed look you gave him, pupils glazing over, revealing no thought behind your eyes. But he saw you. He saw you being affected by his presence. He felt himself loom over you. Your eyebrows creased in pensive irritation, Miguel's face was hard and steely in something he couldn't quite define. You finished biting into the apple, chewing and just giving him a nonchalant look. Reverting back like second instinct.
“Did you rush out here to gawk at me again? Or to blame me for your lack of sleep?” You breathed out judgementally, but at that moment, the way your eyes connected sent a strange chill down your spine, even when you were lying out in the sun. Miguel felt it too. The scorching, pulsating beat behind your gaze was a never-ending maze, an attempt to figure out who was going to break first. Neither of you was willing to back down. It was sizzling…as wellias unsettling.
Miguel didn't know how to answer your question. He couldn't exactly tell you that his nightmares of the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to him tricked his head into believing he was hearing the remnants of it in real time. Part of him wanted to say yes to both. His sleep schedule was a nightmare in itself and the woman who is the bane of his existence has to be looking so...delicious when he was absolutely not in the mood. He wanted you with nothing on, maybe force you to look at him the exact same way he just found you...with his hand between your thighs.
Miguel shook the annoying, sleep-induced thought away. He was acting like every other man, their mind wandering to hell when they see any attractive woman- he won't fall for it. He won't. But you weren’t any other woman were you?
Miguel watched you bite into the apple and instinctively, he just grabbed it from your mouth, almost pulling at it. He watched your face flit into a multitude of different emotions at what he did. You opened your mouth to say something but you just huffed instead, glaring a hole into his face. Miguel took a bite out of it and tilted his head to contemplate you. He knew he shocked you.
You were really fuckable.
Extremely fuckable.
It was an objective statement.
But he still won't play into it. Nah. You wouldn’t be able to fix him. He was too damaged for you. He wouldn’t mind the primitive pleasure of fucking you. He just won’t do it. You weren’t as nice as before. You’d grown a smart mouth.
“Hm.” That was all he could say to you. “I want my room back.” His fingers reached out and tilted your chin up a little, he felt you flinch just a millisecond and that expression on your face was unamused, dead set looking up at him. It felt like you were holding your breath. He took another bite out of the apple. "Happy sunbathing carino." He yelled behind him as he walked away.
-
taglist (giggles) : @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann @idolautism @residentialcryptid @bunnyrose01 @hqllcheers @minalovesyoubabes @amelialysm @moonvoidpng @ahano @hanberkkk @lavenderslemonade @mynameiswilliamblake @gejo333 @leahnicole1219 @iite-cool @zaunsin @kkchgee @yujyujj @hazelnutbitch @hiraya1802 @leo-lvr @sh4nn @watyousayin @siidmm @ciwywt-com @death-moth-art @ihateuguys @enmuhusben @berry-potchy @s0lm1n @amelialysm @migueloharastruelove @lauraolar14 @tashames @soymiguelsesposa @noblesavagex @miguelsslutprincess @lilipads (sometimes i hate this fkn app it literally doensn’t let me tag other ppl why)
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Hello, I hope your having a nice day, can I request Yandere 1st Years + Grim (Platonic) with a Komi Reader? (From Komi can’t Communicate)
Reader’s known for being incredibly beautiful, intelligent, athletic and elegant in everything she does, however she has crippling Social Anxiety and ends up scaring everyone away with her ‘mean/scary’ look so everyone tends to avoid her (When it’s actually herself that’s nervous since she doesn’t know what to say)
Except for Ace, Deuce and Grim after they spent time with Reader in the mine, they discovered her anxiety she wrote it out so now they’re mostly the ones who do the talking for her and try to help her reach her goal of making 100 Friends in NRC, even though they both think that’s a ‘weird/bad goal’ because this IS NRC
Reader loves cats, so she spoils Grim and Lucius (The latter likes laying in her lap and even follows her around) with pets, treats and affection and helping her friends with studying since she gets perfect marks
How would they react to hearing Reader’s voice for the first time? Not to mention have Reader tell write out that she made a friend all by herself who visits her dorm at night and does nightly walks (You know who it is)
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Komi-San Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
You’re quiet and intimidating but not because others find you scary. The exact opposite, they’re obsessed. You’re athletic, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re kind, and the list goes on. Without so much as opening your mouth, the school is at its hands and knees all for you. Little do they know about your silent struggle, not like your dearest first-year friends. More than anyone they know how hard you work and if their hearts could overfill with love for you it already has.  So imagine your stalkers' friends; reaction to you’re never heard before voice:
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Ace Trappola
“Aw man, (Y/n) I can’t begin to explain how much of a pain he is! With his moodiness, we’re not going to win the game.”
“...”
“Don’t say that, I am great but not that great.”
“...Y-you c-can d-do it!” 
He plays 10x better 
All while running on his excitement and embarrassment
“Whoa, Ace! W-were you holding out on us!”
Everyone is floored that he’s suddenly just doing so well
He’s keeping your quiet cheers to himself 
Replaying it in his head
He will teasingly ask you for a recording even when you cutely shake your head
“Oi oi don’t get all shy now, you were doing so well!”
He does circle back having already written down the names of those who turned their heads
If they’re so inclined to hear your voice in a roaring crowd 
Then they should be alright with their ears no longer working 
He’s being merciful when he does just this
And if you mention any mysterious friends, he’d no doubt try to follow up on that same treatment
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Deuce Spade
“M-maybe being an honor student was too high of a goal.”
You shake your head
“Ahh I appreciate it, (Y/n) but if I’m going to flunk again I’ll be in trouble. Both with Riddle and my mom, I just can’t measure up. ”
“You…are a good student.”
He blushes 
“G-g-g-g-good j-job (Y/n)!”
He knows how much this is taking for you to try 
But he just can’t keep it together 
He’s among the first to hear your precious voice
He has to be the only one
He doesn’t know what this feeling is but he doesn’t want to share
It especially rubs him the wrong way when you mention a mysterious friend 
He decides to wait it out
See who this new friend he’s going to gut he has to meet
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Epel Felmier
“Grrrr I can’t stand it! Why can’t I be taken seriously? I just hate my face!”
“...”
“Don’t hafta lie ta me, (Y/n)! I know I’m not handsome.”
“...I….th-th-”
“Huh?” 
“I think you’re handsome.”
“Aw shucks, (Y/n)!”
He definitely wasn’t was expecting that
You’re just the sweetest as he predicted
He already keeps the notebook you’ve lost+ gone through with your written words
And the apple cores he lovingly retrieves from Ramshackle’s trash no doubt cultivating whatever ends up growing from them
He avoids the impulse to tear his book open at the mention of a new friend 
Well I hope they like a poison-apple
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Jack Howl 
“I have a magift practice later on…are you still going to come?”
You nod your head
“T-thank you, I’d appreciate your support from the stands.”
When he says that he doesn’t expect you to actually whisper anything out
“G-go Jack!”
His keen ears pick it up and suddenly he’s breezing through obstacles like never before
And of course, he did his mate practically cheered him on
It makes it much earlier to replay that encouragement when he’s fighting for your honor his ownership of you
No doubt Savvannclaw is filled with your admirers
But some are a little too bold
So leave it to your mate to take action first
And while he’s at it he might as well guard your home more intensely
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Sebek Zigvolt
“WHAT A MARVEL HUMAN! YOU’VE TAMED ALL THE FERAL FELINES ON CAMPUS!” 
“...”
“WELL FOR A HUMAN IT IS DECENT WORK! PERHAPS YOU DO HAVE–”
“C-can you please be quiet?”
“...?....!..Y-you think y-you, a mere human, can tell me what to do?!” 
Yes you can, having the loud half-fae go down two whole octaves was a feat
And he keeps replaying the moment in his head specifically the way your lips moved
Burning hot all over he’s not really listening to anyone for the next week month
But once he’s broken out of it he’s determined to repeat the miracle
And it seems it works best if your alone?
Then he’ll be sure to chase off the gaggle of scum+ admirers who you claim to be friends with
And he thinks nothing of a midnight friend…that is if you’re alone with them than that’s completely unacceptable
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Grim
“Henchhuman! Everyone is soooo mean! Why doesn’t anyone like me? I know I’m so cool and maybe that’s why–”
“I like you.”
“Well of course you w–W-wait did you speak? T-t to me! Whoopee, I’m going to tell everyone the great Grim is who you spoke to first!” 
He runs off to do just that 
Bragging to anyone who would listen
He has to dodge a lot of assassination hits that day
But it gives him the content whenever that icky feeling comes up sometimes
And as for your ‘Hornton’ friend he’s seen him and next time he comes around he’ll boast all about his greatness and how you spoke to him
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rosesareredrosa · 1 month
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theo nott x harrys twin based off of scared of my guitar by olivia rodrigo where like since shes a slytherin people dont rly like her and are rude and she and harry dont talk at all and she lies to theo saying shes ok but he finds her diary and finds out everything and he comforts her
You are NOTT Nothing
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Theo Nott x fem reader
w/c: 1371
Being Harry Potter's twin sister meant living in his shadow, but being sorted into Slytherin meant living in isolation. I’d spent years pretending the whispers and the cold shoulders didn’t bother me, but the truth was, it hurt more than I could ever admit. I was the black sheep, the one who didn’t fit in Gryffindor like everyone thought I should. And worse, I wasn’t even accepted by my own housemates.
I could feel the stares on my back as I walked through the common room. The Slytherins watched me with narrowed eyes, some with curiosity, others with disdain. I wasn’t one of them, not really. I wasn’t the sharp-tongued, cunning Slytherin they expected. I was just Y/N Potter, the oddity.
But the worst part was that Theo was part of their group—the popular ones, the ones who ruled Slytherin with confidence and charisma. Theodore Nott, with his quiet intensity, was different from the others, but he was still one of them. He spent his time with Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Mattheo, and Lorenzo, the group that everyone either feared or admired.
I always felt out of place around them. Draco’s sharp wit, Pansy’s biting remarks, Blaise’s aloofness, Mattheo’s mischievous grin, and Lorenzo’s easy charm—they all made me feel like I didn’t belong. And Theo? Theo was the only one who ever seemed to notice me, the only one who looked at me without judgment. But even then, he was distant, part of a world I could never touch.
I’d gotten good at pretending it didn’t bother me. I’d perfected the art of smiling and nodding, of pretending everything was fine when inside, I was crumbling. I didn’t let anyone see the real me—not even Theo.
I’m scared of my own guitar, of all the things it says I am, I scribbled in my diary one night, reflecting on the lyrics that had been running through my mind. The song reminded me of how terrified I was of the expectations placed on me, how scared I was of not living up to them, of not being enough. Of all the things I know I’m not, I added, my heart aching with the weight of the words.
It’s like the strings know the truth, even when I lie to myself, I wrote, feeling the familiar lump in my throat. I hated how vulnerable I felt, how every time I tried to express myself, it felt like I was revealing too much. I’m scared that if I play, everyone will hear what I’m trying so hard to hide.
One day, I was sitting in the library, tucked away in a corner where no one could see me. I was supposed to be studying, but my mind was elsewhere. My diary lay open in front of me, the pages filled with my fears and frustrations, the things I could never say out loud.
Just as I was about to write something, I heard footsteps approaching. I quickly closed the diary, my heart racing as Theo rounded the corner, his expression unreadable.
“Y/N,” he said quietly, his eyes searching mine.
I tried to smile, but it felt forced. “Theo. What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been looking for you,” he replied, his gaze flickering to the closed diary on the table. “I... I found your diary in the common room the other day.”
My heart dropped. “You read it?”
He nodded, his expression pained. “I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, but... I couldn’t just ignore it. Y/N, why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling?”
I looked away, shame flooding through me. “Because you’re part of their world, Theo. You’re with Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and the others. You wouldn’t understand.”
He stepped closer, his voice soft but firm. “I’m with them, yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I’ve seen how they treat you, how everyone treats you. And it’s wrong. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes. “You don’t get it, Theo. I’m not like them. I don’t belong here, not in Slytherin, not anywhere. I’m just... nothing.”
Theo’s expression hardened, and before I could react, he reached out and took my hand in his. His touch was gentle, but there was a strength in it that made my heart skip a beat.
“You are not nothing,” he said fiercely. “You’re Y/N Potter, and you’re more than just Harry’s twin. You’re brave, and strong, and you’ve been dealing with more than anyone should have to. I hate seeing you like this, and I hate that you feel like you have to hide it from me.”
The tears I had been holding back finally spilled over, and I looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re not a burden,” Theo insisted. “You never were. You mean something to me, Y/N. I know I’m part of that group, but I’m not like them. I care about you, and I want to help you.”
I took a deep breath, the words bubbling up in my chest, words I’d been too scared to say out loud. But looking into Theo’s eyes, I knew I could trust him. I had to let him in.
“I’m scared, Theo,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I’m scared of everything. I’m scared of my own thoughts, of what they say about me when I’m alone. I’m scared that I’ll never be good enough for anyone, not for Slytherin, not for Harry, not even for myself.”
I could feel his grip on my hand tighten, his eyes softening as I continued.
“I’m scared that if I open up, if I let anyone see who I really am, they’ll hate me. I’m scared that I’m not strong enough to be who everyone thinks I should be. I’m scared that I’m nothing, Theo, that I’ll never be more than just the shadow of someone else.”
Theo stepped closer, his other hand gently cupping my cheek, forcing me to look at him. “Y/N, listen to me. You are not nothing. You’re not a shadow, and you’re not alone in this. You’re everything that matters to me. I know it’s hard to believe, but you’re worth so much more than you think. And you don’t have to pretend with me. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I stared at him, my vision blurred by tears. “But what if you see all the things I’m scared of? What if you see me for what I really am, and you realize I’m not worth it?”
Theo’s thumb brushed away a tear that had escaped down my cheek. “I already see you, Y/N. And I promise you, you are worth it. Every fear, every doubt, every single thing you’re scared to show, I’m here for all of it. You don’t have to hide from me. I’m not scared of who you are. I’m not going to run.”
Something inside me broke, the walls I had built up around myself crumbling as I let out a sob, stepping forward into his arms. He held me tightly, his embrace warm and secure, and I let myself fall into it, let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t alone after all.
“It’s okay,” Theo murmured, his voice soothing as he stroked my hair. “I’m here, Y/N. You’re not alone anymore. You don’t have to be scared. I’ve got you.”
I clung to him, my tears soaking into his robes as I let out everything I had been holding back. Theo held me through it all, never letting go, never pulling away. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn’t alone, like I wasn’t just the shadow of someone else.
I had Theo, and in that moment, that was enough.
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forthelostones · 3 months
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♛ masc!reader x masc!abby - “our competitive streak” ♛
round one | round two
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Palestinian vetted gofundme’s
synopsis: you and abby have been competing on the base for years. ever since your arrival abby has treated you less than the threat you are. abby may have the looks of a strong woman, but is she really? you test her strength — her emotional, mental, and physical strength.
disclaimer: reader is of any weight/capacity — i am not subscribing any visual elements other than strength and i hope that’s translated well! (also I don't know a thing about fighting!!!)
you and abby were quiet enemies on the wlf base. you would call it a silent competition that you both were actively participating in. you were taller than abby and a little weightier but we’re you stronger? that was what you were trying to find out.
in the weight room, a chart with a line between your name and abby’s was on the whiteboard. it was tracking your updated deadlift weights. the erasable letters made you smile as the pounds under your name were significantly higher.
“won’t be there for long.” a voice laughed behind you.
you wipe the hot sweat from your forehead on the sleeve of your shirt. abby stood with her legs shoulder width apart in a black sports bra and matching 5-inch shorts.
the blonde was getting bigger, that wasn’t lost on you, but you knew you had greater endurance. she could lift, but for how long? she could spare but by the third round were her punches connecting? her damp hair dripping lightly against the mat as she flicked it over her shoulder. you didn’t mean to stare but fuck, when she crossed her arms you felt envy.
“no smart retort?” she questions, strolling over to you.
“retort? that’s why your weight is lower than mine, in the library reading too many books.” you chuckle.
she giggles softly.
“clearly keeping tabs on me, ‘kay.”
she licks her lips and tosses her head back in one swift motion to laugh again. the skin on her neck was vast and wet. droplets cascading down in the dip of her bra. you followed one all the way down until it disappeared.
the scent emitting from her skin was a familiar one that you often times smelled in the showers after a sparring session. pine-vanilla and it was intoxicating, you hated her for that — smelling so good. fuck.
“you’re doing a good job keeping up though,” you said, in an attempt to pull yourself away from those thoughts.
“i am?” she walks over to the board and erases the previous weight and adds 5 pounds.
unintentionally, her back flexes as she writes, showing off her new bulk progress. note to self: you had to start eating more protein and soon.
trying to appear not phased, you put your hands on your hips and nodded.
“clearly we’re only going to get better at the deadlift. what do you say to a little combat match?”
she looked over her shoulder and a cheshire grin grew between her cheeks.
“i would love that. it wouldn’t take me two minutes to pin you onto the mat. could be easy.” she shrugged.
so casually too. it wasn’t that she was cocky, you had enough ego for the both of you but her ability to seem so carefree about the whole ordeal. she should be scared of what you’re going to do to her.
"could be," you repeat.
your noise-canceling headphones were on the loudest as you skipped around the bag. throwing punches and kicks into the length of it. the shuffling of your feet on the mat made your calves burn deliciously. abby didn't stand a chance.
sweat dripped down your nose and into your mouth. as you turn abby is slowly clapping, the sound muffled by the high volume, and holding a towel. she reached out to you and you gladly take it fighting the urge to snatch it. your eyes were burning a hundred punches ago from the salt burning your corneas. her timing was perfect.
“thanks,” you say.
abby’s eyes did a once over of your body, taking in the soaked grey clothing you wore. sweats hung loosely from your waist and the white top you were flung close to your chest. you saw her eyes light up with a newfound curiosity, that you didn't have time to explore but will be on your mind for the rest of the day. you felt disgusting all drenched in sweat, a shower was soon to be in your future.
“like what you see?” you tease.
abby rolled her eyes and turned on her heels, ignoring your comment until she reached the exit, “i don’t hate it.” she hollered before disappearing to her quarters.
was abby watching you? how long was she? so many questions littered your mind.
instead of showering in the gym, you walked down to the communal ones near your room. to get there you had to walk past the library and slip up the stairs to the second floor. curiosity got the better of you and you opened the double doors to the dusty room.
surprisingly, it was well-kept. where the librarian would sit was in working order with a chair, lamp, and notepad. accompanied by a random assortment of books on the table.
it was larger than you thought. you look up and down the shelves to see how they’re organized. the dewey system organizing all the titles. anderson had to be in here somewhere, you thought. as you walk past more clusters of books you stumble upon the romance section. you look over your shoulder as if to hide your softness for the fiction genre.
you pull out a few titles, knocking the dust off to read the synopsis. hm, this one sounded good. you flip to the first chapter and begin reading.
suddenly a soft cry echos through the stacks making you nearly leap out of your skin. on alert, you freeze and hold your breath. you close the book quietly and tuck it under your arm. you step over into an aisle that leads to a singular light that is glowing in the darkness.
“abby,” a groan rang.
startled, you swallow deeply and walk toward the end of the row that empties into a larger section surrounded by more shelves. in the center of the room there’s a chaise covered in blankets and few pillows. as you get a clearer view, at the end of the chaise is a woman with her legs spread open, back arched, hoisting herself up with abby perched between them. you blink several times before it registers that she is responsible for the noises. the big girl’s fingers are gripping tightly into the fat of her partner's thighs. her head bobs up and down as she suckles on her …
you tuck back into the nearest bookshelf and follow it all the way back out the door.
in the canteen, dinner was bland for you — boiled chicken, rice, and broccoli, the same meal you had been eating every day for what seemed like forever. you sat in the corner by yourself, still reimagining what you saw yesterday. the way her hands gripped her, how the woman’s hand found its way to abby’s hair, and how abby liked that she pulled it. and the look of pure bliss on anderson’s face and how she moaned into her pussy and —
a bowl of a similar meal dropped onto the table and abby sat down right behind it with her fork between her teeth. she never sat with you.
“listen,” she started. “i’ve been thinking, just for practice we could have a match before the real one.”
you couldn’t stop thinking about her tongue that was now grazing the end of the utensil.
“okay,” was all you could manage.
“‘okay’? no insult or smart comment?”
“what do you want me to say.”
“a girl needs to be degraded every now and then to feel motivated, right?”
so that’s what you like, you thought.
“fine. anderson, i’m going to kick your ass and love every minute of it.”
“atta girl. see you later?”
she said and before you could even reply, she was gone.
entering the gym, you saw anderson in her usual attire, sports bra and shorts. she sat with her legs wide as she began to wrap her hands, clearly struggling.
“let me help.” you said, getting her attention.
you drop your bag on the ground to bend down and take the wrap to start properly setting it.
you felt abby’s glistening eyes on you as you methodically loop the material into place. you wanted to act like you were unphased by it, but deep down you felt a heat below your stomach hike up.
touching her calloused hand was still the softest thing you ever felt. you analyzed her fingers and wondered how they would feel pressing into your thighs or inside of — you shook the thought away. now wasn’t the time to get distracted.
you stepped away and she thanked you. you rolled your shoulders and began a stretch routine, still feeling her gaze directed towards you.
“funniest thing happened,” she said.
“don’t you see i’m busy?”
“i was doing my readings in the library, you know, checking to make sure all the books were in order and i was missing one.”
you gulp and move to the next stretch, you definitely took the book and did not put it back. an image of it sitting on your side table flashed briefly.
“how does that interest me?”
“i don’t know. it’s weird considering none of you idiots read.”
you stand straight up. “you don’t know me from a stranger anderson, how do you know if i read or not?”
“i can tell.” she replied smugly.
“do you own the books or something, i mean, what’s the big deal anyway?”
“i have a system, okay, that’s the big deal. are you ready?” she said sharply, tilting her head to the side, clearly annoyed.
you had never been more ready.
🏷 @bookpagecandlescent ; @lesbian-useless ; @ghgygd
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daddyricsdoll · 10 months
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Hate but I love you too ✭ Ollie Bearman
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Summary: From when he ignored you then nearly kissed your lips. Or never said sorry to begging for you. Oliver was a rollercoaster of emotions and it's safe to say- It took hate to love him.
Warnings: Unprotected sex.
Word count: 2.9k
A/N: Based off of a request. I'm sorry it took a while, quite a few things happened, but I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading this too! (did change a few things)
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“Hey Ollie” I smile at him as we walk toward our karts that sit only metres away from the other. “What do you want?” He turns his head toward me with furrowed brows. “Oh, I-um just came to say hi and good luck.” I try my best to keep a smile on my face as he grimaces. “Ok then, thanks I guess.” He mumbles under his breath before quickening his pace and rushing to his kart. 
It did hurt to watch him leave because of me, but it wasn’t the first time and it never made me stop from approaching him again. And just like the first time, it happened the next, he would always find a way out, but I found another in. I had questioned his actions and dislike toward me, but never got the answer, or maybe the one I was looking for at least. So after setting the goal of speaking to him every time we were in the same premises, I eventually lost it. Moving up into F4 and giving him a smile, then F3 and little glares. 
F3 was an interesting time, it was when we started to only focus on racing, relationships later, whether it was friendships or romantically, we could all agree we had some struggles. And then came the part I thought would be my happy ending, but U-turned straight out. 
But then came a experience for all of us drivers to experience what a lot of kids our age do. So then came a party with nearly all the drivers on the grid, hosted by a driver, so you could expect it to be on the spectrum toward chaotic. It happened to start light, small talk and grabbing another drink, before people loosened up and with that came party games. The truth or dare and spin the bottle. 
My hand lightly shook as I grabbed the bottle in hand, trying to estimate which person it would point toward. Hoping it would be the British boy that sat across from me, and this time he wouldn't walk away. 
Everyone's eyes stuck on the bottle and when it pointed in between two people I looked up to see it was Ollie and Jak. Everyone started shouting out their opinions of who it shall be before they all voted, and it was Ollie. I watched many emotions cross his face as we both leant forward and our lips inched closer to the other.
I stopped moving, waiting for him to make the next move, his lips were so close that I could feel his breath against my skin and I closed my eyes as I waited for him to close the gap. My lips curled into a smile as I was sure I would finally feel him. But instead of his lips ultimately against mine, I felt cold as I lost his presence and then his voice that refused to kiss me. “I can’t kiss her, we’re both rivals and it might ruin the race tomorrow.”
I don’t say anything, but sit back in the circle, at long last, accepting my defeat. I watched as some conflict arose, people telling Ollie it’s just a game and it doesn’t mean anything, but then he fought back claiming he wouldn’t kiss anyone in the circle, and then the game ended. 
I found somewhere to sit in sorrow but also bliss, at how close his lips came to mine, but then how he left. I was alone for a short while before Arthur Leclerc approached me. He wasn’t even part of F3 this year but said “I could never miss out on a party.” and then sat beside me while enlightening me with his jokes and bad english. From there me and Arthur became close, while the tension between me and Ollie grew. I secretly schemed ways in my head to get Ollie back, make him feel the way I felt, make him regret something or tempt him with something, make it come so close then take it from him. There was no denying I wanted that thing to be me, and that’s what held my plan back. 
The next year we both were signed into teams on the F2 grid, he had the opportunity to be with Prema racing and me with ART grand prix. 
After Jeddah, our rivalry started to grow realising we were the top two drivers fighting for the win each race, me getting the victory first and him second. Then came up Australia, a track we were all new to, but it didn’t mean we wouldn’t try as hard. 
I led the race with Ollie right behind me, fighting around corners and defending on straights. We had 3 more laps left as our tires started degrading drastically and our cars lost the power they had earlier in the race. Speeding down the main straight and reaching turn 1 Ollies tire clipped mine and we both spun into the gravel.
Furrowed brows under my helmet as I got out of my car that would’ve taken me to the top of the podium if it weren’t for Oliver Bearman. I put my steering wheel back in and smack the halo, needing something to take my anger out before walking away with clenched fists. Oliver stands still and stares at me as I aim to stride past him, but instead I land directly in front of him but don’t say a word. Our helmets would’ve touched if it weren’t for our heights and although my visor was still on I knew he understood the emotions that ran through me at that moment. We stayed like that for what felt like minutes until I walked away with a brush against his shoulder and hand. 
Every race after that there was a stronger battle between both of us, it was either me or him that won, and those few times we didn’t, the bottom two on the podium had our names on it. 
Just like last year, there was a party held, but this time we were in F2 and I wasn’t tailing after him. 
Me and Arthur walked in together dressed impeccably and proud. We had a good season together and maybe letting loose at this “party” might make this season better. 
Since everyone on the grid was here, it would be inevitable to see Oliver. Whether it’s a good or bad thing, I kind of do want to see him, especially since after that crash, I’ve never been better and he doesn’t enjoy being under me, so I’ll have a great time. 
It barely took 5 minutes until Arthur found Oliver and started a conversation, while I stood with Arthur people congratulated me on having dominance over the season so far and I just waited till Oliver would say it too. And to my surprise it didn’t take long. “Oh um, congratulations.” I hear him mumble under his breath. “Sorry I didn’t catch that, can you say that again?” I ask him, hiding my smirk with a confused look.
He gives me an annoyed smirk, knowing wholly what I was trying to do. “Congratulations.” He quickly says and watches a smile curl on my lips before walking away with one too. Me and Arthur somehow separate and I find another one of my favourite people on the grid–Juan. I immediately laughed as the first words he said were an enlightening joke, and we sat at the table and talked, it felt so short but apparently it wasn’t. 
I excused myself to the bathroom but not without a short interruption. “Nice boyfriend, since when?” The oh so recognisable accent drew me out of my stride. 
“Oh, Oliver? I never knew you had an interest in people's personal lives.” I sarcastically joked, but I gained no reaction from him. 
“I never knew you had an interest in people so low in the championship.”
“Unlike you Oliver, I actually know how to interact with people whether they are high or low in the championship because I know they won’t ruin my race even if we’re rivals.” I try to add some of his words from that night in F3 while taking a step closer toward him and most definitely getting in his personal space. He doesn’t attempt to move back into the wall that he already rests on, but instead looks down at me with concentrated eyes staring into mine. 
“How do you interact with people? Oh please show me. Is it actions before words?” I knew exactly what he was asking for so I step on my tippy toes to stand taller and he lifts his head to look straight forward at me, I move my face closer to his, just like he did that night. I feel the ghost of his hand along my hips as my parted lips hover over his. I breathe against his skin and feel him try to move closer to me just before I break away and walk back into the main room.
Losing my need for the bathroom I walk back with a smirk and see the same one of Arthur’s faces. We both found a seat next to each other and laughed as I told him what happened. Arthur couldn’t get over it and started making fun of Ollie from across the table. Sending him air kisses and chuckles. 
And just like I hoped this night did make the season more enjoyable. 
I walked out of the Prema garage as we were 15 minutes till lights out and me and Arthur had just spent the morning being stupid together. We still couldn’t get over last night and Arthur was just waiting to see Ollie again, which was definite thanks to them being teammates. But as Ollie walked in, I had to leave. I sent him a teasing smile and he looked away with his signature furrowed brows. 
We all got in our cars and lined up on the grid, me and Oliver sharing the front row. Once the lights went out Ollie kept the lead and I trailed behind him, keeping the gap close. Halfway through the race there was a yellow flag which lasted a few minutes before we were back to racing. The yellow flag closed the gap between both of us by a lot and now we were wheel to wheel.
I had the inside line so we both knew what was going to happen. But just like Australia, our cars collide and our race ends in seconds. I was most definitely filled with the same emotions as Australia but I knew hitting the halo wouldn’t ease them. I don’t dare to walk close or past Oliver so I take the long way around and stride straight to my driver's room. I don’t speak to anyone on the way there and slam the door once I arrive. 
It hadn’t even been a minute until I received an unexpected knock on my door. Everyone knew that when I was angry, it was best to leave me alone unless you were certain that you could make me feel better. So when I got up to answer the door I was surprised to see Oliver. Before I could say a word, he beat me to it. “I’m sorry.” I stood there confused trying to process the words he had just told me. “I-I hit something and I couldn’t control my car, I think you hit it too and then we both…” 
“And you think sorry will fix what just happened? For the second time!”
“No, I don’t think it will fix everything, but maybe if you accept the apology then things might change.”
“What happened? So you start talking to me, and now you learn manners! What happened to ignoring me and sending glares or not talking because I’d ruin your race or maybe you just never liked me!”
“A lot happened! And I don’t know how to explain it, but don’t act like I’m the only one that changed! What happened to the smiles you would give me before the race or when you would walk with me on the track?”
“You ignored it Oliver! You never showed an interest and you knew what you did that one night. You really hurt me Ollie.”
“Well then please, give me a chance to fix it. I regret everything I ever did or didn’t do.”
“And why do you want to fix it now Oliver?”
“I… I realised something. I realised that I really enjoyed when you would talk to me! And that the reason I ignored you before races was because you would infiltrate my mind during the race like you do every day and night! And I really wanted you- I still want you!”
“Fuck it.” I mutter under my breath as my hand grabs his and pulls it into my room and shutting the door right behind him. I had spent so long wondering what his lips would feel like, and now I know, they are the definition of paradise, my paradise. And his hands finally against my body did more than just touch my skin, they touched my mind and I tried to engrave the feeling into me. We broke the kiss and I looked into his eyes, irises being eaten by his pupils. Once my eyes landed on his neck, my lips did too. Placing hickeys all over his skin and moaning at the sound of his hushed groans. 
“Is this what you wanted, Oliver?” I ask him against his skin. I don’t get words as an answer but little whines instead. My hands go to the top of his racing suit and I start unzipping it, soon pulling it down his body. Ollie starts to help me, mirroring my actions and seconds later we both stood in just our fireproofs. I couldn’t bear to still see him in clothes so my hands pulled his top off and my hands travelled along his unclothed chest. 
“Come on Oliver, I’m not the one that has to fix this.” I mumble against his lips with a smirk. His hands then grip the back of my thighs and pull my body up against his. My legs wrap around his body like it’s not the first time and he lays me down on the small driver's bed. 
“Is it too hard to finish what you started?” He whispers against my skin as he pulls my pants down my legs and they land on the ground. I sit up and lean forward to slide his pants down his legs so he can help ease the need between my legs. And once his pants sit next to mine, I have to clench my thighs together for at least some friction. 
“Would you like to watch me finish what I started?” I ask and before I gain an answer I swap our positions, I replace my body on the bed with his and I stand in front of him. I barely give him any time to react as I crawl onto his lap. And then in seconds I lower onto his dick. Emitting a loud moan from his perfect lips, one that’s louder and longer than my own. 
“I guess I’ll take first place again, on your list of best people you’ve fucked.”
“Fuck, oh, you’re the only one on the list.” He somehow manages to grit through his teeth. His words do something to me, and I start to work harder, his hips also coming to meet mine. 
“Good, let’s keep it that way.” I occupy my lips with his and we capture each other’s moans. It didn’t take long until we were both moments away from coming, and it was like we had planned it together as we simultaneously came. I started riding both of our highs out until he grabbed my body again and flipped us over. 
My back hit the soft bed and his hands slid along my hips as he started ramming into me. My whole body moved and it was something I didn’t expect from Oliver, but luckily I now enjoy the unexpected. We both cursed under our breath and out loud as our second climax was inching closer. I clenched around his dick and traced the delicacy of his body as I let myself feel everything that he was giving to me.
His eyes that remind me of autumn glint down into mine before I have to shut my eyes as my back arches and I cum onto his dick for the second time. I wait for the disparate feeling of him releasing in me again and whine when it finally happens. 
He then lets out a long sigh and lays down onto me, body enveloping mine as he stays inside of me. “This was more than what I wanted.” He breathes out and then lays beside me, resulting in feeling the emptiness between my legs but oh so satisfied. 
“Have I fixed what was broken?” He asked me.
“Maybe, but this is the first step.” I turn toward him and smile before he smiles back. This was more than I hoped and certainly more than I expected. So to sum it up, Ollie is many things and emotions, maybe I had to go through the dislike to savour and realise how much the like is worth. So Oliver, you made me want to stab you, but heal your wounds. Drown you, but part the ocean so you can walk through. You made me hate you, but love you too.
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psychedelic-ink · 1 year
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𝐅𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞
pairing: dbf!ellaria sand x plus size!f!reader x oberyn martell, ellaria sand x oberyn martell
genre: smut, modern au, hurt/comfort, minors dni
word count: 7.2k
summary: Wanting to get away from it all for a while, your dad suggests that you go and stay with his friend in the city; Ellaria Sand. It's been a hot while since you last saw her and you must admit, you have a bit of a crush on the older woman. What you don't expect, however, is to find an equally charming stranger staying with her as well.
warnings: threesome, age gap (reader being in her late twenties), weed use, dirty talking, body insecurities (weight related), piv, oral sex (male and female), praise kink, light bdsm dynamics, subdrop, aftercare, squirting (but like very non explicit squirting as ironic as that sounds dfvdv), use of petnames (little one, pet, good girl), no use of y/n, both ellaria and oberyn are mentioned to be polyamourus, edging
a/n: this is hella indulgent and an idea I've had since September but never actually gotten around writing it. However, while I was taking a nap the idea suddenly consumed me and I had to pause everything else to sit down and write it. Enjoy the filth, there's so much going on ❤️‍🔥
**dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜
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You’re anxious as you wait for the door to open in front of you. It’s been a rough couple of months—years, actually. You feel suffocated by the world around you and yourself. Every day is another battle. You hate to admit it but you’re just so tired of fighting. There’s a constant weight on your chest that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what you do. Which led you to the doorsteps of your dad’s friend, Ellaria Sand.  
The idea had came from your dad. Noticing your troubles fitting in, he recommended you go and visit her. You were more than eager to oblige. You loved her company, she had an aura about her that just made you feel welcome. Talking to her came easy since she did most of it, and when you had something to say, she would actually listen. 
While you’re thinking about all of this, you’re trying very hard to ignore the fact that you might have a teeny-tiny crush on the older woman. However you’re ready to make the argument that it’s not your fault, she was just too charming—who wouldn’t have a crush on her? 
Ellaria’s excitement mimics your own as she opens the door. With a wide smile, she wraps her arms around you and drags you inside. 
“How was the trip?” she asks excitedly. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.” 
“Of course not, I like traveling,” you answer. “Thank you for having me by the way. How are you?” 
“Oh, pretty much the same. Nothing new.” she helps you with your luggage and you follow her to the spare bedroom. “Also I forgot to mention on the phone but a friend of mine will be visiting and staying with us as well. Is that okay?” 
“Why wouldn’t I be,” you say with a leveled voice. “Does the mystery guest have a name?” 
As you step into the room, she turns to you, still smiling.
“His name is Oberyn.” 
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For your first night, you weren’t expecting to get high on the couch with Ellaria, yet here you are, your chest full of cannabis as your head rests over her lap. 
“So who is this guy?” you ask as she places the joint between your lips. You feel the warmth of her fingers. “A boyfriend or something?” 
“Or something.” 
You draw your brows together, confused, “What does that mean?”
“It means my sweet flower,” she answers slowly, dragging her knuckles up your heated cheek. “We’re together but we both agree that the pleasure of the world is too many to limit ourselves to one person.” 
“You’re in an open relationship?” you take a deep drag from the joint, your lungs expanding with smoke. 
“We’re both polyamorous.” 
“Wow, lucky,” you say with an envious tone. She quirks an eyebrow yet her smile continues on to be a humorful one. You stammer with your words. “I-I mean, it’s lucky that you found each other. Must be nice having the same ideals as someone.” 
She nods, placing the blunt back between her lips, “It is.” 
“Is he nice to you?” 
You’re not quite sure what prompts you to as that. First of all, it feels way too personal of a question to be asking your father’s friend. Even though Ellaria has spoken about her sexual relationships before, it still feels like your might be crossing an invisible line. A fog settles over your mind, loosening your tongue. You’re fascinated by functioning relationships. You’re fascinated by the idea of two people actually being understanding and caring towards each other—as ridiculous as that may sound. You haven’t had the best experiences when it came to partners, most of them going into it with hopes of changing who you are, so anytime you see two people actually liking each other’s company you can’t help but want to pull out a camera and record everything. 
Ellaria blows smoke toward your face, the warmth of it ghosting over your skin like a summer breeze. 
“He is. I wouldn’t really be with him if he wasn’t.” she pinches your cheek. “You have a weird look on your face.” 
“Oh,” you answer dumbly. “Sorry.” 
“I’m just worried. Your father didn’t really say anything other than you really needed a break.” 
“I guess I’m just a bit lonely.” 
“Well,” she says and reaches towards the ashtray to snuff out the blunt. “If that’s the case you came to the right place. You can stay as long as you want to.” before you can say anything, she starts rolling another one and a loud knock echoes across the dimly lit apartment. 
“Ah, that must be Oberyn.” 
Begrudgingly, you remove yourself away from her lap and watch Ellaria make her way toward the door. She’s wearing an orange dress, the color warming her skin. You can’t help the way your gaze drops to her behind, the soft fabric hugging her curves delicately. 
With a noise, you hurriedly snap your eyes away. It’s not the time to be ogling her like a piece of meat. 
No matter how good she looks. 
You weakly attempt to collect yourself when Ellaria returns with a tall man in tow. As you get up, you stagger a bit but manage to immediately keep yourself upright by holding on to Oberyn’s outstretched hand. His smile is kind, and the kindness reaches the depth of his eyes. Though you also see a hint of curiosity in them. His palm is searing against yours and his fingers are long and nice-looking, you spot a stylish golden ring on his thumb. 
A bit scared, and a bit excited, you meet his gaze. He’s quite handsome. In fact, you believe you might be in the presence of the most attractive two people in the city. His facial hair is neatly trimmed, framing his jawline which in return gives it an even more sharper look. 
While you two remain hand in hand, Ellaria makes the introductions. Oberyn’s thumb smooths down your inner writs. A shiver rolls down your spine. “It is very lovely to meet you,” he says earnestly. 
“Likewise.” 
Oberyn picks up the unlit joint Ellaria had left on the coffee table before she went to greet him. You see a faint sparkle in his eyes. “You two were smoking?” he asks, turning to Ellaria. 
“To relax the nerves, my love,” she answers with a playful smile. “Help yourselves, I’ll be back in a minute.” 
You feel as if someone poured cold water over your head, “Maybe I can help?” you take a step forward, intent on following her to wherever she was going—which you assume is the kitchen. But she stops you with the raise of her hand. 
“Please, I’ll be right back. In the meanwhile you two get acquainted.” 
A second later it’s just you and Oberyn alone in the living room. He seems unbothered and lights the joint as he takes a seat. There’s a certain air of expertise and elegance in whatever he does. He pats the cushion next to him, “Sit.”
You sigh softly, collapsing next to him. He flicks the lighter and leans towards the tiny flame, his eyes fixed on the empty threshold. He takes two quick exhales, the tip of the joint burning a bright orange. Smoke pours from the corners of his lips. You’re mesmerized by the sight of him. Shadows dance over his face, giving him a dark look. 
“How do you two know each other?” he asks, snapping you away from your thoughts. 
You blink, momentarily lost in his gaze, before extending your hand to take another drag from the joint. Your fingers feel slightly numb as you bring it to your lips. "She's a friend of my dad's," you explain, your voice barely above a whisper. "We've known each other for a while."
Oberyn nods, his fingers gently brushing the back of your neck, sending tingles down your spine. Your breath catches in your throat, and you find yourself leaning closer to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
“What about you?” you ask, hating the way your voice trembled.
A soft smile plays on his lips. His thumbs continue their soothing caress on the back of your neck, tracing delicate patterns that send a shiver of pleasure through your body. 
"She walked into my lecture one day," Oberyn begins, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "I was talking about the ancient civilizations of Essos, and there she was, her eyes filled with curiosity. After the lecture, she approached me with such confidence, asking questions that sparked my own curiosity. I learned that she was an artist and she was lacking inspiration. She thought a trip to the past would spark something in her." he says blissfully. “And spark it did.” 
“You’re a professor?” 
He hums, elevated by your intrigue, “Yes, but I do prefer excavating and traveling to new sites.” he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. "It's much more freeing, rather than being trapped between four walls." 
His words wash over you like a gentle caress, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of his warmth. The joint burns low between your fingers, forgotten for a moment. With a jolt of panic, you extend it back to him. 
Oberyn's voice lowers even further, a velvet murmur that tickles your ear. "She's a remarkable woman, isn't she? So full of life and passion."
A soft sigh escapes your lips as you find yourself nodding, captivated by the combination of his words and the tender touch of his thumbs on your skin. "Yes, she is," you reply. 
“You like her,” Oberyn says, a statement, rather than a question. You’re horrified by the implication of it. Your lips part and close, words failing to come out. His sudden burst of laughter makes you jump. “Do not look so worried, I’m not here to judge you. I appreciate anyone who sees her for the gorgeous woman that she is.” 
His fingers find purchase under your chin, he lifts your gaze, dark eyes boring into yours. You forget how to breathe. With a soft smile, Oberyn brings the joint to his lips and takes a deep inhale, You can hear the sizzle of it, and feel the heat that radiates from the crimson tip. Your lips part by instinct, he leans closer. 
Oberyn fills your lungs with delicious smoke. Your lips never touch, yet you swear you can feel them pressed together. He breathes life into you and when it’s all done, he licks himself deep into your mouth. Pressing deeper, Oberyn flattens his tongue against yours and nips your bottom lip. Sweat drips from your spine and gathers at your tailbone. His hands affectionately cradle your face, inhaling you one last time, he breaks the kiss. 
You’re a panting mess, your lips tingling for more. 
“Take off your clothes.” 
Your eyes go wide, “I—Excuse me what?” slightly inching forward, you stare into his eyes. “Ellaria is right down the hall, wouldn’t it be. . . rude?” 
That sparks an amused chuckle from him. “You’re adorable,” he muses. “I promise you that she wants this as much as I do.” 
“She. . . does?” 
“Ellaria adores you. She also enjoys sharing her favorite things with the one’s that she cares for,” his fingers curl around your throat and you swallow. Oberyn tilts your head to the side. “Now, let me see you.” 
And this is the part where your insecurities make an ugly appearance. You avert your gaze, hugging yourself while Oberyn continues to stare. You want to do this. You absolutely do, if the slick gathering in your underwear is any indication, but it’s still hard for you to believe that he wants to. 
You feel the bite of his nails and bring your gaze back to him. You’re not sure what does it, but you find yourself scrambling off of the couch. You don’t see not one ounce of a lie in those eyes—you only see lust and intrigue. Besides, you came here to loosen up, what better way is there to do that than making out with a handsome stranger? 
When you’re left only in your bra and underwear, Oberny pulls you to his lap and you let out a soft gasp. He unclasps your bra and throws it over the small pile of clothes you had left behind, leaving you only in your, visibly soaked, panties. 
“Oberyn. . .” 
You jolt at the soft lilt of Ellaria’s voice. You stiffen over the older man’s lap, not knowing what to do. With a smile, he draws soothing circles over your thighs. 
Ellaria takes a seat next to you two. You’re too flustered to look at her but despite not looking, you see the delicate curl of her lips. 
“She’s too beautiful not to touch,” Oberyn drags his nose down your neck, and you smile giddily. Your heart beating a mile a minute. “Don’t you agree with me, Ellaria?” 
Her tongue swiping over her bottom lip, she reaches out and holds your breast, weighing it with her palm. She brushes a thumb over your pebbled nipple, a soft whine parts your lips. “I do.” 
“You think I’m beautiful?” 
“Of course, love. Why would I not think you are beautiful?” 
You grow silent. Ellaria’s fingers dances along your arm and heat settles in your core. Oberyn, with a curious gaze and a half smile, drags his thumbs down to the soft contours of your stomach rolls and gently pinches. You whine, sticking your bottom lip out, you look away from them both. 
“I think I have an idea why she thinks like that,” he hums. Ellaria’s gaze drops to where Oberyn’s hands rest, meaning your stomach. Your cheeks burn. Her eyebrows raised, you feel the weight of her gaze locked onto your face, but still, you refuse to look at her. Or him. “She lives in a cruel world that makes her think she’s anything but desirable. But we see her for what she is.” 
“And what’s that?” you mutter, embarrassed to be read so easily. He was right, you never thought of yourself as being desirable, even if you desperately wanted to. There were mornings you just woke up hating yourself, staring into the mirror and poking endlessly at your face and observing every imperfection. You’re tired of it. Tired of thinking of yourself as less. Which is one of the reasons why you came here. Why your dad wanted you to spend time with Ellaria, he knew the woman had ways of making you feel better. 
Oberyn's firm yet gentle grasp on your chin draws your attention, anchoring your gaze and shifting your focus solely to him. His smile is wide and predatory, like a snake. You tremble as his hands slide from your stomach to your waist, their scorching touch and commanding presence stirring a primal reaction within you.
“You’re a gorgeous girl,” he answers with a melodic lilt from his sinful tongue. “The type of girl we want to ravish for as long as you’re staying here.” 
“If you want to, of course,” Ellaria adds, playfully pinching your nipple. Your eyes flutter closed. The sudden mixture of pleasure and pain makes your skin tingle pleasantly. “Do you, little one?” 
You nod. Everything that’s happening feels like a fever dream. The scent of cannabis is still heavy in the air, making you feel soft and slow like molasses. Ellaria’s fingers dance along your nape, nimble fingers sliding into the roots of your hair, she gently tugs. Meanwhile, Oberyn nips at the soft skin of your neck. 
“Words, love.” Ellaria commands. 
“Yes,” you breathe out, voice shaking. “I want to. . . if you guys want to.” 
Oberyn whispers, “Good girl,” against your skin, and a wave of dizziness engulfs you. The two devour with the ways they touch and bite. Ellaria’s lips melt into your own as Oberyn cups both your breasts, kneading the soft mounds. 
Kissing Ellaria had been a fantasy you frequently indulged in over the years and you’re pleasantly surprised to realize she tastes like cherries and roses. You have endless memories of slipping your hand between your legs as soon as you were in the privacy of your room. You always had a feeling that she knew. Her gaze too observant, too cunning not to see the thoughts lingering in your head. 
Oberyn lowers his head and lifts your breasts to his mouth. He laves his tongue over your nipples hungrily. A wanton moan echoes in the back of your throat, your head falls as you part away from Ellaria. You hear her chuckle. “You taste sweet,” she comments, making you keen. “Despite the smoke Oberyn blew into your lungs.” 
“You saw that?” 
“You two weren’t exactly being discreet.” 
You’re hot all over, embarrassment pouring over you like summer rain. Oberyn doesn’t seem to care, consumed with the taste of your flesh. Your underwear sticks to your folds and you squirm over his lap. The man groans when you brush his length, you feel him twitch through the soft fabric of his sweats. The blood rush is loud in your ears. 
He feels. . . big. 
“Shit,” you mumble, delving your fingers into his short locks. You tug him closer to your chest and sloppily grind on top of him. You feel the sharpness of his teeth and then—
He bites you. 
With a sharp cry you jerk away, your gaze instantly finding Oberyn’s. The man is grinning from ear to ear. Your heart beats wildly against your ribcage. “What was that for?” you gasp, chest heaving. 
“It was an affectionate bite,” he teases, then presses his lips over the tiny dents. “Did it hurt?” 
“No . . .” you answer, sounding uncertain. “I was just surprised.” 
Ellaria rolls her eyes and tugs Oberyn towards her. The man goes willingly, his wicked smile never fading as she crashes their lips together. You see the pink of Ellaria’s tongue slip between Oberyn’s lips. His hands drop, his thumbs digging into the crease between your thighs and hips. You watch wide-eyed at the way the two devour each other. They’re so earnest, so hungry. It makes you ache between your legs and a bit in your heart. While Ellaria licks herself deeper into his mouth, Oberyn guides the roll of your hips. 
Suddenly struggling about where to put your hands, you place them on his chest. The fabric of his shirt bunches underneath your fingers. Your eyes roll at the delicious caress of his clothed cock. You want to feel more. 
When they part, a string of saliva connects them still. Oberyn grins at her and tilts his head toward you. “She likes the show it seems,” he states. 
With a soft smile, Ellaria turns to you. She cups your cheek and smooths her thumb over your heated skin. Your heart soars. She’s so tender, so soft with you. It makes you dizzy. You never thought someone like her would be interested. And you don’t only say this because of your physical insecurities, you just always felt like she would find you too inexperienced. Too young. You always had this unnecessary fear of sounding dumb when you talked with her. 
“What are you thinking?” she whispers, coming closer. Her hot breath fans your skin as Oberyn flattens his tongue over your neck, dragging the wet muscle up until his nose is firmly pressed against your jaw. 
“I’m thinking that this must be a dream,” you answer. “And I’m thinking how intoxicating you two are.” 
Oberyn’s smile is wide as he pulls away, his eyebrows raised. “Look at that, she found her tongue. How delightful.” 
Ellaria kisses the right corner of your lips and addresses Oberyn. “You’ll scare her, she’s fragile.” 
“I’m not fragile,” you pout. With a laugh, she presses her lips against your jutted lip. “I’m just nervous. . . you know my experiences haven’t been—” You clear your throat, suddenly aware of Oberyn’s eyes on you. “Great.” 
“I know, baby. I know.” 
Obeyn chimes in, his gaze moving to Ellaria, “What does that mean?” 
“Poor girl never came from another hand but her own.” 
“Ellaria!”  
“Oh?” Oberyn’s eyes bore into your own. It’s so intense that you can’t look away, and honestly, you’re not sure that you want to. He pulls down your bottom lip, dipping his thumb into the seam. “You won’t have to worry about that with us, sweet creature.” 
“I’m sure,” you hum, a coy smile playing on your lips. “So can we uh. . . can we take this to the bedroom? I’m not that comfortable on the couch. If that’s okay?” 
“Of course,” Ellaria answers. “Besides I hate how this fabric feels against my skin. So the bed is definitely preferred.” 
Oberyn, without saying a word, nuzzles your neck before pulling you to your feet. You falter, still a bit dazed. Yet, his arm catches you, keeping you from falling. 
“Careful,” he tuts, lips touching your forehead. 
Oberyn’s arm never leaves your waist as Ellaria guides the two of you through the hallway of her home. A route you don’t doubt Oberyn has taken many times before.
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You aren’t sure what to expect when you enter Ellaria’s room. It’s quite neat, the bed quite big, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. 
Ellaria looks at you with a smile, curling her fingers around the elastic of your underwear, she tugs you close. Oberyn looms right behind you, he hadn’t closed the door as he entered. His cock hard and aching, resting between the crease of your clothed ass cheeks. His palms caress the soft mounds, his breath warm and wet against your nape. 
You’re suddenly highly aware that you’re the only one practically naked. Noticing this, heat crawls up your chest and curls around your neck. At any moment you expect to wake up in the familiar setting of the guest room, none of this seems real.
“Lay down, Oberyn,” Ellaria’s voice breaks the silence, her eyes never leaving yours as she addresses her lover. “We’ll join you shortly.” 
“Hmm,” he kisses your neck, your legs shake in response. “Should I take off my clothes?” 
“Yes.” 
Oberyn smiles, gives your ass one last firm squeeze, and retreats. And as much as you want to stare at the man in his full naked glory, it’s hard to pull your gaze away from Ellaria. You hear the bed creaking under the man’s weight. Still, you don’t turn to look. Ellaria kneels before you, tugging your underwear along with her. Her hands, despite not being large as Oberyn’s, feels all consuming. They languidly slide above your calves and thighs as she raises to stand on her feet once more. 
When she stands, you make a move to take off her garments but she gently pushes your hands back. “You watch,” she says, pulling off the straps of her dress and allowing it to pool at her ankles. 
You touch her like art. Soft and slow. Almost as if she wasn’t there. You cup her waist and skim your palm until you reach the side of her breast, in which you hold tenderly under your hand. A soft gasp leaves her and you look at her with shock and amazement. You bend forward, closing your lips around the tender nipple. You swirl your tongue around the areola, her eyes fluttering as she lets out a sigh. 
“That’s nice,” she says, looking at you between heavy eyelids. “You don’t need to be shy with us.” 
If it were anyone else saying that you wouldn’t have believed them, “I think you’re right,” you whisper, more to yourself rather than her. “You’re sure you don’t mind me being. . . timid?” 
Her brows furrow with confusion, her gaze searching your own as your thumb continues to dance over the darker patch of skin. Then you see it, the recognition flashing in her eyes. She might’ve forgotten, but you remember her talking about how much of a bore it was to be with unsure people. Timid, as she had put it. Which is something you’re being right now—you think.  
Your eyes find Oberyn’s from above her shoulder. It’s a fleeting moment. But he seems to be eating you both with the darkness of his eyes. Your heart skips a beat. Ellaria’s hand cradles the back of your neck, gently tightening her grip. When your gaze moves back to her, you see that she’s smiling. 
“I didn’t mean you when I said that,” she answers. “You lack confidence, there’s a difference. And I doubt you’ll be holding yourself back after regaining it.” 
“You don’t think I’m boring?” 
“I don’t,” leaning in, she drags her nose over yours, soft lips only an inch away. “Let’s not keep Oberyn waiting.” 
When you both turn, you see that Oberyn is softly touching himself. Fingers teasingly moving up and down his impressive length. You clench your teeth, arousal overwhelming every orifice of your body. “How should we do this?” he asks, eyes on Ellaria. 
Grinning, she gently nudges your shoulder with her own, you can’t stop staring at Oberyn however. He’s all lean muscle, the extra padding making him look fit. The coarse dark hairs lead a path from his softened stomach to his pulsing cock. Noticing your gaze, he wraps a hand around himself and starts to fuck his fist with hard strokes. He watches with delight at the way you lick your lips when a bead of precome appears on the tip. 
“Would you want to taste him?” Ellaria’s lips touch your ear. 
An awkward chuckle bubbles from your chest, “Am I being that obvious?” 
“Only slightly.” 
She guides you to the bed, and you take your place between Oberyn’s legs while Ellaria is more to the side. His hand instantly finds the side of your face, thumb tugging at the corner of your lips as he stares at you with a softened gaze. 
“Needy,” he murmurs. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you, little one.” 
You feel your pupils physically expanding. Ellaria drags her nails down your scalp, you purr at the sensation. “He likes it when you go slow,” she informs. “Start at the tip and drag your tongue down, he likes being teased.” 
With an urge to please, you do exactly as she says. First, you swirl your tongue around the bulbous head, his thighs stiffen, then you flatten your tongue and move down. The moan that comes from him is unfiltered and loud. Slick gushes between your legs. 
“Good girl,” he gasps. “You too.” 
It takes you a while to understand what Oberyn means. You only become aware that he was addressing Ellaria when the other joins you, licking a stripe up the other side of his length. You moan as you take the head between your lips, meanwhile, Ellaria closes her lips around the base, sucking the delicate skin. A choked out moan parts his lips, not being able to keep still, his hips stutter, forcing you to take more of him. His width spreads your lips wide. Your eyes water and you feel Ellaria’s tongue as she kisses the skin right under your eye. 
She replaces your lips with her own. You watch in a dazed manner as she takes Oberyn down her throat with practiced ease. His fingers tangle into her curls when she hollows her cheeks, forcing her head down. The sight alone makes you drip for them both. Now feeling even bold, you meet Ellaria’s lips while she’s sucking on the tip. You swear you see a ghost of a grin when she slips her tongue into your mouth. You taste a mixture of them in your mouth, and your head spins. Not wanting to part away, both of you lower yourselves, taking Oberyn between your lips as your tongues struggle to meet around his cock. 
“Fuuuck,” he groans, cock twitching between the pair of lips. You feel his rough fingers moving along your cheek. “You’re doing so well—both of you are,” Ellaria pulls away and winks at you before turning to Oberyn. You take him halfway into your mouth, the tip touching the back of your throat. He makes a sound, burying his head further into the pillows. “If you continue doing that I’m going to come.” 
The sound of his voice lights a flame in you, the strokes of your tongue becoming more wild and eager. You swallow around him, over and over, until Ellaria pulls you away. 
“Isn’t that a good thing?” you choke out, eyes flitting between the two. “I want you to come,” you then add, jerking him. 
“Oh it is,” he answers with a sly smile. “But before that, I want to see you come undone on my tongue. And my cock.” 
Ellaria feels you shudder as she traces the line of your spine, “Get on all fours,” she says barely in a whisper. 
You do as you’re told. Arousal coils tightly in your stomach, your body burning from the inside out. You’re over-excited. Your breathing coming out in short, rushed pants. Oberyn gets behind you as Ellaria takes Oberyn’s place and pulls you between her delicate thighs. Your one arm instantly curls around one leg as you brace yourself with the other by flattening your palm over the mattress. 
Oberyn’s fingers languidly slide down the curve of your ass and slip two of them into your soaking heat with ease. You melt into the touch, your elbow immediately giving way and falling. Without thinking much you kiss the inside of Ellaria’s thighs, sucking and nipping her ample flesh. Oberyn begins to thrust his fingers in and out. Your walls flutter around the digits, your body growing tenses. 
“So wet,” he approves. “You must be very excited.” 
“F-Fuck, I am,” you whimper, attempting to meet the thrust of his fingers. 
He scissors his fingers and curls them, applying pressure to a delicate spot deep inside. A jolt of electricity rushes over you. Your body engulfed in a crackling heat. 
“Taste her,” he says. “Aren’t you curious?” 
Instead of answering, you meet Ellaria’s gaze before pressing your lips into her cunt. You moan into her, and she draws up her legs, bracketing you between the inside of her thighs. She cradles the back of your head with both hands, guiding you as you drag your tongue between her folds. She tastes fucking delicious. You love this, love giving her pleasure. With a hum, you close your lips around her aching clit and suck. Hard. 
Her body jolts, the bed underneath creaking. Oberyn swears from underneath his breath, and you imagine him staring at Ellaria’s debouched face. You bet she looks beautiful. Nudging the bundle of nerves with the curve of your nose, you tease her entrance with your tongue, slowly pushing in. 
“And you worried you would be timid,” she croaks out, her back arching as she tugs you closer. “Look at you now, my sweet girl doing such a good job in pleasing us.” 
Oberyn’s fingers are replaced with his sinful tongue, heat drips from your spine. Without wanting to, you pull away from Ellaria, moaning loudly between her legs. His tongue delves deeper, kissing your folds and lapping at everything you have to offer. He grazes his teeth and you writhe against him, your lips moving sloppily along the apex of her thighs as you attempt to kiss her. 
His tongue feels too damn long. . . he pushes the soft muscle inside, the mild stretch making your stomach roll. Oberyn is much better at this than you are. No doubt about it. Ellaria only watches as the most sinful sounds escape your throat. He fucks you with his tongue and between thrusts, he manages to flick your clit with the pointed tip. It makes you feral. You’re not even sure what you’re doing anymore. You continue to taste Ellaria, albeit much more sloppily compared to before. You catch her gaze whenever the fog in your head lifts, her lips are parted, eyes half-lidded. 
“I think you’re ready to take me,” Oberyn says, his voice hoarse. 
Before you can answer, Ellaria cups your cheeks, pulling you away from her core. Your chest heaves. She swipes her thumb over your lips, spreading the wetness caused by her cunt. “I want you to pick a word, love.” 
“A word?” you cringe internally at how out of it you sound. They haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already a mess. 
“A safeword,” Oberyn explains Ellaria’s words further. His hands grip your love handles and squeeze them tenderly, he pulls you back and you feel the warmth of his cock heavy on your ass. 
You think for a minute, your eyes darting around Ellaria’s face and the wall behind her. Your mind is completely empty. Blank. Not even one word comes to mind. 
Oberyn licks his lips, “How about that stoplight system? Green for go, yellow for slow down, and red for stop?” 
Ellaria’s gaze searches your own, and you nod, “That sounds good.” 
“Alright then,” Oberyn purrs, etching closer. He slides his cock between your folds, his hands skimming up your waist. Ellaria continues to hold your face, watching your every expression with interest. Your eyes widen— is she waiting to see your expression when Oberyn enters you? Fuck. Heat blossoms in your chest. “What is your color now?” he asks, hand cupping the back of your neck. 
“Green,” you say with a whimper. 
Oberyn pushes in inch by inch. He stretches you beautifully, only a hint of pain following while he fills you. Ellaria smiles as your eyes roll back, your lips parting with a guttural sound. He feels so good. So deep. When he’s fully sheathed inside, he waits for you to adjust to his size. Your legs shake. You’re barely keeping yourself together. Ellaria slips her thumb into your mouth and you wrap your lips around her diligently.  She hums with approval. 
“Does she feel good?” Ellaria asks Oberyn. 
“Yes. She feels like she was made for me. Such a perfect hole to fill.” 
You shudder, dripping down his cock and the inside of your thighs. “Oh god—” you choke out, your voice thick. 
Ellaria releases you when Oberyn rocks his hips impatiently. Your cheek drops to her thigh and with a shaky hand, you bring your fingers to her cunt, slowly slipping two of them inside. You know she wasn’t expecting it when her head snaps back. You can’t help the little smile that graces your lips. Her heat consumes you. Oberyn’s thrusts become faster, harder, sinking deep into your cunt. And with every stroke of his cock, your fingers go deeper into Ellaria. 
It’s a beautiful mess. 
You’re not sure how thin the walls are, you hope that they’re thick. You mentally apologize to the neighbors if not because none of you are making an effort to keep quiet. Ellaria grinds to meet your fingers, meanwhile, Oberyn’s cock is splitting you into two. His pace is brutal, you feel your skin rippling as his hips snap into you. Honestly, you’re not even trying to move your hand anymore, it’s all Oberyn—So technically, he’s fucking two people at once. 
Suddenly you find yourself being shoved into Ellaria’s delectable cunt, Oberyn pushes you down, blunt nails biting into your scalp. With a groan, you once again close your lips around her clit and suck. You swirl your tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves, then gently —almost fearfully due to the harsh grind of Oberyn’s hips— you graze your teeth. 
Ellaria cries out, a sound that takes you by surprise. Between wet eyelashes, you watch as her face contorts in pleasure, her walls squeezing your fingers tight. Her clit throbs against your tongue and just like that, she’s gushing heavily into your mouth. Oberyn’s movements slow, his brutal pace becoming a lazy one as his cock massages your walls. You have a feeling he’s watching her as well. 
Noticing that she’s crying out both your names, your pulse quickens. 
You pull out your fingers and hold her hips, wet streaks glisten on top of her sun-kissed skin. Burying your mouth deep within her folds, you allow your tongue to lick the remains. Another, more gentle, orgasm washes over her, the cries from before becoming sighs of languid pleasure. 
“Good girl,” Oberyn growls, his hand becomes a necklace around your neck and he hauls you up. He shoves his lips against your ear, the tremor of his voice making you tremble. “You know, I’ve never seen her come quite that hard with the others. She must like you a lot, pet.”
fuckfuckfuck 
The way he rolls his tongue as he says it, pet—you don’t expect it to affect you that much but it does, your entire body tenses, his cock easing in and out of you even faster thanks to the way you gush around him. 
“You like that?” 
Shit, he noticed. 
“I—I—” 
He grabs your chin and clashes your lips in a bruising kiss. Oberyn leaves you breathless, your lungs convulse, burning with the lack of oxygen. You taste a hint of yourself on his tongue. 
“Our sweet pet,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re stunning like this, all fucked out.” 
Oberyn kisses you once more then turns to Ellaria with a smile, “I can still taste you on her tongue.” 
“I would think so. She was quite thorough,” she teases, her gaze fixed on you. 
Ellaria touches herself slowly as Oberyn resumes his brutal pace. Wet noises flood the dimly lit room, Oberyn buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder. You feel the softness of his lips and the sharpness of his teeth. Your loins burn. 
Oberyn dangles you on the edge of a cliff. Every time you’re close to your release, he slows his hips into a gentle roll, only to build you up again. Ellaria simply watches, gently drawing tender circles while Oberyn toys with you. Their pet. 
“Please,” you beg. “I want to come.” 
You sound teary and embarrassed. Oberyn kisses your neck. “You have been good,” he murmurs, eyes moving to Ellaria. “What do you say?” 
“Let her come,” she sighs, smiling. “Make it feel good for her, Oberyn.” 
Oberyn makes a sound of eager approval. His one hand slips between your legs as the other grasp your breast, keeping your sweat-soaked body flush against him. His fingers draw tight, quick circles around your clit as he presses into you, hips smacking against your flesh over and over. 
It doesn’t take you long after that. 
Your orgasm hits you like a truck—hell, it hits you like a train. It’s violent, intense. Every muscle grows taut and your skin tingles as if it’s burned. You can’t even cry out properly, your mouth wide in a silent scream. Something warm trickles down your thighs, and if it wasn’t for Oberyn’s constant, steady praise in your ear you would’ve been embarrassed. But instead, you just slump against him. Your body feeling limp as if you might never be able to stand again. He rolls his hips, and each time waves of pleasure wash over you, it’s not as intense, but it feels amazing. 
“That’s it,” he rasps. “I’m going to pull out now, okay?” 
Your nod is followed by a hiss when he does, the sudden lack of him making you feel empty, and frankly, a little bit sad. However, you don’t get the chance to linger on the feeling as Oberyn guides you toward the empty spot next to Ellaria. 
She holds you in a tight embrace, whispering praise into your hair. Oberyn shuffles until he’s behind her, his arm draped over her waist. His cock is still hard and heavy between his legs, glistening with your slick. 
You ask weakly to Oberyn, “What about you?” 
“Always so thoughtful,” Ellaria purrs. She throws her arm back, pulling Oberyn close by the neck. He kisses a delicate path up that follows the curve of her neck. “You don’t need to worry about him. Just relax. . . and enjoy yourself.” 
When Oberyn sinks into her, you understand why Ellaria was so eager to watch your expression. 
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You stare into the small bathroom mirror above the sink, the light irritating your eyes. You’re fresh out of the shower, naked, still dripping, the drops warm as it slides down your skin. Ellaria’s reflection comes into view, also naked, her hands delicately moving over your body, examing to see if you’re hurt anywhere. 
“How do you feel?” she asks, satisfied with her examination. 
“I’m fine,” you answer dismissively, still staring at your reflection. You feel detached, your limbs slow and tenderly aching. 
Oberyn squeezes a tub of minty toothpaste over the bristles of your brush and holds your chin. Instinctively, you turn to him. He gently pinches your jaw. You open your mouth. 
He starts to brush your teeth. This man you just met, this man who just railed the ever-living shit out of you. . . is tenderly brushing your teeth. You taste the mint and without meaning to, you wrinkle your nose. He laughs. 
“It’ll be over soon.” 
The thing that makes you tear up is how delicate they are with you. It’s unexpected. They don't think you’re invincible just from your looks. They see that you’re broken, see that you want to be taken care of.  And they humor you, treating you as you wish to be treated, without you having to say so. 
They touch you as if you are a glass rose. It makes your chest ache. 
“I think I have ointment somewhere,” Ellaria mutters to herself, turning on her heel and looking over the shelves. “It will soothe your skin.” 
The small sniffle you make goes unnoticed by Ellaria but not Oberyn. With a raised eyebrow, he pulls out the toothbrush. “Rinse,” he says simply. He turns on the faucet for you and you fill your mouth with water. You swish it around. Then look to him before doing anything else. “Spit.” 
You watch as the foamy water goes down the drain. You straighten back up, watching the reflections that dance in the mirror once more. You feel his eyes on you but you’re too flustered to answer his gaze. Ellaria holds a small container of ointment, when she sees your expression her brows furrow. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing,” you mumble, not truly knowing the answer yourself. Oberyn opens the faucet again and rinses the toothbrush. After placing it back, he brushes his lips over yours, the gesture sparking life back into your body. “I don’t know,” you then say. “It just feels all so nice, I’m not used to. . . I don’t know, sorry.” 
“You don’t need to apologize,” Ellaria says, opening the small container. She takes a hefty amount with two fingers and rubs it into the tender skin of your asscheeks. “It’s normal. You haven’t been feeling well lately, and it’s common to feel a bit of a drop after.” 
“Is it really?” you ask. 
Oberyn answers you instead, “It is. You’ll feel much better when we’re back in bed when you’re between us.” 
Ellaria nods and you manage to smile. With a soft chuckle, you shake your head. “You two are too nice to me.” 
“The bare minimum shouldn’t be surprising you this much,” Oberyn’s gaze softens. “But we’ll fix that.” 
As the two guide you back to the bedroom, you believe they will. 
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aheathen-conceivably · 2 months
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Long before the last note Antoine had grown aware of Zelda’s presence; but as he finished, he looked up at her with a newfound vulnerability in his eyes. As she stared at him unmoving, he absentmindedly moved his hand along the strings to fill the quiet left by the watching stars, “Was it alright, you think? Writing lyrics, it’s new. Harder than assembling notes, if you ask me.”
She looked at him in amazed silence. His original piano pieces had been brilliant, and sometimes he had written ditties for her to sing, but never before had she heard him sing his own lyrics. She had always known how much he loved it - this place that he had left but that walked alongside him everywhere he went; but it was so much clearer this way, so full of both love and hate, loyalty and disdain, longing and relief, that it was difficult for anything other than music to encompass it. 
She brought her hands together in something that may have been a clap if she wasn’t so afraid to disrupt the stillness of the desert air. On silent footsteps, she left her reverie behind and moved to sit where he had made room for her on the worn wooden bench.
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She looked at him earnestly, trying to ease his fear with even just the movement of her eyes, “It’s brilliant, Antoine, truly.” And she meant it, not just because she was under his spell and not her own now; the judgmental eyes of God and her sisters were shut out when she was in his orbit. Now there was only him and his memories for her to get lost in. 
He left his hands on the strings, still playing the familiar notes as though they helped make the admittance easier to utter, “You were right, you know? When I play it’s like I can see it all laid out in front of me. Or better yet, under me. Like I’m above it, observing it all like a story. Makes me realize I loved it more than I thought I did. That house. That place. Her. I wrote it because I know it’s gone now, probably nothing but rubble under a cheap government build. I just don’t want to forget. Or maybe I don’t want the world to forget.”
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The stars looked down on them as his smile widened with every inch she drew closer to him. They reflected brightly in her eyes as she leveled them to his, “Would you sing it again? So I can hear it better?”
He let out a small laugh, just as much in relief as in humor. “Surely you would prefer to sing it? With a voice like yours I would hate to imagine what mine must sound like.”
She brought her knee up on the bench with them, curling as close as she could without dislodging the guitar from his arms. “Hush and sing. You don’t need me now.”
“I always will, Mrs. Duplanchier. No matter what. But as you wish….” 🎶
Part 3/3
(As Antoine is meant to have written House of the Rising Son in this universe, I’m going to leave a little disclaimer about this song and its origins under the cut, in case you are interested!)
The origins of the song House of the Rising Sun are much older and more complicated than I have presented here. Folklorist Alan Lomax has written more on it if you are interested, but it is commonly thought to have originated as an English folk song, morphing into the version we know today amongst various groups of American immigrants.
Perhaps best known for its 1964 version by The Animals, it has long formed a staple of American folk, blues, rock, and country recordings, with recorded versions by everyone from Lead Belly, Woody Guthrie, Doc Watson, Nina Simone, Dolly Parton, Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan, and Alt-J (amongst so many others). However, I have taken inspiration from the earliest known recorded version, which was done in Appalachia in 1933.
Of course, in having Antoine write this song I have compressed much of this history into a single figure, as well as slightly twisted the meaning of the song to fit the story line. The latter is mostly based on personal interpretation of the lyrics and is purposefully meant to draw a line from this family’s musical heritage through the 1960s and beyond. It also gives a face to the very real figures behind many of the staples of American music that have come to us from the early part of the 20th century, many of which were written or played by black men and women whose songs have continued onward while many of their names and stories may have been forgotten.
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ash5monster01 · 7 months
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ello love! (for ur val celebration) can u write rafe Cameron for #4!! maybe make it grumpy r x sunshine rafe?
The Perfect Day
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Valentines Celebration Prompt
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader
Warnings: grumpy reader x sunshine Rafe, fluff, confrontation, slight betrayal, language
4. You’ve always pretended you hate love to avoid getting hurt but then he stumbles upon a journal where he discovers you romanticize everything, including him.
word count: 1.6k
Masterlist
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Rafe was not used to being the upbeat friend with absolutely anyone. That was except for you. You were just as annoyed with the world as him if not more. So somehow he took on the job of making sure you keep an open mind on everything around you. When someone talked to loud on their phone he was the one to keep you from saying anything and when an old couple kissed on the beach he was the one to remove to scowl on your face. He wasn’t sure whatever made you see the worst in everything and everyone but he knew you deserved more. You deserved hope. So even though he had been tainted by the world himself he still wanted to make sure it was a good place for you.
Which is why most of his weekends are spent taking you on small adventures, trying his best to get you to see the beauty in the world. So just like every Friday night he sits on your bed and waits for you to finish your shower so you could start off the weekend together. Other than today he was extremely bored. His phone had died and your bedside charger hadn’t quite brought it to life yet and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Which probably explains why his hand reached to pull your bedside drawer open.
Of all the things he expected to find in there the last was a diary. You hated everyone and everything. There was almost no practical reason for you to ever have an item intended to romanticize the life around you. And yet, leather bound and all is a dainty pink journal that has clearly been touched everyday. He doesn’t want to open it, but the more he stares the more he realizes he can’t even picture you lying here in bed at night and spilling every thought you had in the journal. So he opens it to prove himself wrong.
Today was a perfect day. Not only did Rafe make the most perfect fluffy pancakes for breakfast but he used strawberries to add a smiley face to them. He’s so good like that. Taking such small gestures and making them resonate within your entire being. I told him I wasn’t a child the whole time but secretly I loved it. It was adorable to think of him standing in my kitchen, smiling to himself as he crafted a perfect smiley face just to put a smile on mine. I could barely eat my pancake. I just watched and appreciated him. He hums while he eats, no particular tune but I never want to forget it. It’s my favorite song. I also love the way his nose scrunches when I make him laugh. It’s the cutest wrinkle that makes me wish I could smooth it out with my thumb every time. People are always so worried about getting laugh lines when they’re older but they’d look so handsome on Rafe. A constant reminder of all the times he saw me for me and accepted who I was. I hope I get to see those laugh lines for the rest of my life and be reminded I was the one who put them there. No one else deserving of the radiance that is Rafe Cameron. He makes every day a perfect day.
“What are you doing?” your voice startles him, the journal flipping from his hands and landing to the ground on the side of your bed with a thud.
“I- uh. My phone died, and I was just-. I thought you’d have a book or something” the excuse is weak and his stutter confirms his lie even more. Your hair is damp over your shoulders, more than likely soaking the black fabric of the small shirt you have on.
“I have a whole shelf over there, this is private” your words are sharp as you move to grab the journal from where he had lost it. He watches as you lift it up only to discover the pages he was on. Your eyes move fast across the page and then dart up at him quickly. “Did you read this?”
“Um, I uh-“ but your standing and hugging the notebook that just revealed you are so much more than a girl that’s hates the world but a girl that’s in love with it for all the things that make it beautiful. Including your relationship with him.
“Oh my God you read it” and now you’re pacing, unsure if you should fight off tears or the panic that’s lodged its way into your throat and is making you sick.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s no big deal” Rafe is scrambling off the bed, grabbing your shoulders to ensure you stop pacing.
“It is a big deal Rafe, this is humiliating. These are my private thoughts” you tell him, a bit exasperated to even be in this predicament right now.
“I know but I thought your private thoughts would be more along the lines of ‘not only did Rafe wake me up early for a surprise breakfast but he put a smiley face on my pancake like a kid. Mornings suck and smiles are for ignorant children’” and you hate that he knows you so well, or at least the person you hid behind. A girl can only wear her heart on her sleeve so much before it finally gets torn apart.
“Ugh, you really did read it” you groan out, moving to sit on the end of your bed and Rafe lightly chuckles, still filled with shock over his discovery and attraction towards you. It must be that adorable pout.
“Yes, but it’s not a big deal. I thought it was sweet” he says sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“Ew, do not call me sweet” you groan and a laugh bellows out of him.
“Oh please, you love it. And me too apparently” and now your face is as red as a firetruck because Rafe knows everything. That you really don’t hate the world around you.
“I can’t even deny it anymore” and now that you weren’t entirely embarrassed and owning up to the situation, Rafe feels the seriousness hit him like a wave. Suddenly his arm is wrapped around a girl he’s liked for a long time and never thought would like him back. Yet now he knew that she did.
“If it helps, I like you too. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be making you pancakes early in the morning” he tells you, body nudging into your own, and you lightly laugh. You always assumed that your love for Rafe would be hidden by your hate for everything but now that the truth was out it made sense that it didn’t. Secrets never stay secrets for long.
“You still shouldn’t have found out that way” you say lifting the journal in your arms and he smiles softly at you.
“Can I ask why you pretend so much?” Rafe asks after a beat and you sigh, turning to face him which makes his arm fall off your shoulder. He watches as you finally release the journal on your bed and he knows you’re ready to open up.
“A girl can only wear her heart on her sleeve for so long until it becomes ruined. When you expose things to people, put them out there in the real world, they’ll always come back a little less perfect than before. I was tired of getting hurt and if you already assume the worst there is no chance of ever breaking down” you tell him, knowing how silly it sounds. To pretend to be so mean and vile towards everyone and everything when in reality all you ever wanted to do was love.
“I can understand that” Rafe says, thinking of all the times his own father had tainted his heart when growing up. Why Rafe was willing to do anything to get his Dad to love him. See him as something good, just like Sarah.
“I didn’t mean to lie, I just thought if you knew how I felt you would hurt me too” you say and Rafe sighs before scooting closer, hating that you had put distance between you both.
“Honey, I hate everyone and everything except for you. You should’ve known everytime I cheered you up and made pancakes at the ass crack of dawn was because I liked you” he says and the laugh that bubbles past your lips makes Rafe’s heart soar.
“I suppose you’re right, I guess I just couldn’t take my chances” you say and Rafe is grinning, hands wrapping around your hips, and pulling you flush against him.
“I’m going to kiss you now” he tells you and your heart doubles in speed as your eyes glance into his own. Rafe smiles briefly before ducking close and nudging his nose against your own. When your lips part for him he quickly seals against you. A soft hum of delight somehow finds its way from your throat and it has Rafe squeezing you closer as his tongue dips into your mouth. Once you’ve been kissed dizzy he pulls away, eyes glossed over as he looks back at his perfect girl.
“I was right” you say as he glances at your face, lips swollen from your own.
“Yeah, about what?” he asks with a teasing tone to his voice and you wrap your hands around his neck, grinning widely at him.
“You make every day a perfect day”
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iamyoursonly · 2 months
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Problem Solving? (28/07/2024)
your girl is back. literally cooked this up because i felt like it. I AM NOT CRYING IN MY ROOM DON’T WORRY. anyways enjoyyyyyy. (can you guys tell I’m still in my bakugo phase)
1k words — unedited (might have a pt two)
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In times of desperation and despair, I often resort to crying my eyes out instead of trying to solve the problem at hand. As of right now, my tears have been rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably, sobs and sniffles apparent.
I always question myself if I have ever known what I was living for. But until this day, I still do not have the answer. Was it for the pleasure of surprise in life? Or the sense of fulfilment when I succeed one day? I have absolutely no idea. I hate how I look, how I sound, how I don’t fit into beauty standards… How am I supposed to love someone if I’m unable to even love myself?
Sharp pain penetrates through my chest as my emotions flood and then overflows, making me overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions. I clench my teeth to stop myself from screaming out loud and yet the inner voice inside me is telling me to let it go.
A knock, and another. Then the voice speaks, “Open up, lil shit.”
I could recognise that voice anywhere. That rough tone but has a nice touch of kindness inside when they speak to others, a bit loud yet still soft. Bakugo Katsuki.
I snapped out from the thoughts and the emotions. Using my sleeve to rub away my tears, then proceeding to check if I looked presentable in the mirror. To be absolutely honest, I do not look presentable. Eyes red and puffy, face swollen and body bloated from the immense amount of food I’ve consumed. But I’m wearing a hoodie. So I guess it’s fine…
Opening the door, I immediately lock eyes with him. His crimson ones meeting mine, as if they were taking in the image of me and asking me if I were okay. His eyes spoke of concern and care.
As people always say, ‘actions speak louder than words’. Katsuki reached out to me and gave me a big hug, which he never does because he’s not keen on physical touch. And the second our bodies made contact, the tears threatened to pour out again.
“What’s wrong? Tell me about it.” He says, his tone calmer than usual.
I wasn’t sure how I’d respond. The emotions were flooding inside my head, and all I was doing was telling myself not to cry. Reluctantly, I said, “Everything.”
He just kept quiet. His company was soothing, I have to admit. And thanks to him, my inner person took over and the tears fell once again. The obvious whimpering was deafening, I cried like there was no tomorrow. All the emotions I’ve been suppressing since he came in went rushing out, hitting me like a truck.
Katsuki, being the man he is, he soothed my back, once, twice, thrice…
My breathing slowed before I started choking on my breath. I held onto his hug tight, still not willing to let go of him yet I never wanted him to be the one who sees me in this state.
The inner voice inside of me cries, “Everything’s wrong. I hate my voice, I hate my face, I hate my body, I hate what I have done, I hate the way I think, I hate how everything just goes wrong when I do it, I hate that nothing goes right, I hate how I write, I hate how I’m incapable of being better, I hate myself.”
A long moment of silence arrives as I take in whatever I have thrown out of my mouth just now. The realisation was harsh when I knew it wasn’t the rational choice as I might lose him. I can’t lose him.
Katsuki looked at me, “Don’t say that. I love your eyes, the way you look at me, the way you’re nice to a lot of people, how you’re always smiling, hardworking and loving towards others. You’re so beautiful also, the way your lips curl up is unique. And the way your eyes light up when you eat your favourite cake. I love everything about you. I love you.”
He locks eyes with me before caressing my face with his left hand, “Even your flaws are beautiful, they are a part of you. If you don’t learn how to love yourself, how can you possibly love another?”
I was speechless, I did not know how to react to all that information he just thrown at me. The compliments and the hidden love confession that I noticed. A blush creeps up onto my face as I bury my face into his shoulder, “You love me?”
Feeling him smile and his voice comes right after it, “Yes I do. I know it might be unexpected but trust me, I really do.“
“Since when? And why? There are so many better choices than me…”
“Since I first laid eyes on you, because you caught my eye. You’re strong during that entrance exam and I was kinda, surprised. And I’m sorry I was harsh to you in the beginning, I swear I was an immature bitch that didn’t think before he spoke.”
“Katsuki…”
He used his index finger to shush me, “If I love you properly would you promise to love yourself and learn to love me too?”
His feelings may not be reciprocated in this moment but that tingle in my heart feels the genuine care and sincere love in his tone. “I promise.”
“So would you let me, Bakugo Katsuki become your one and only love, your boyfriend?”
“Yes!”
He holds my hand as we walk down to the cafeteria for lunch, all eyes on us. His grip on my hand tightens as he glares at all of them before finally yelling at them, “What are you extras looking at? Is my girlfriend too pretty for you to handle?” A pause and a moment of silence proceeds. ”Good. Just so you know, she is mine. Back off losers.”
I chuckled and kissed his cheek before sitting down at our usual table, “I love you.”
He smiled and squeezed my hand, “I love you too, darling.”
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euphemiaamillais · 8 months
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imagine a modern coryo/ sej as roommates au and coryo finds u writing about them sexually in ur diary with things u want them to do (they have already been sexual) and then they reenact her fantasies
mdni | sej and coryo read your diary and decide to fulfil your fantasies
cw: 18+//threesome//blowjobs//piv sex//soft dom!sej//sub!coryo//throuple goals <3//roommate au
when sejanus and coriolanus found your diary—a pink and fluffy one of course—they’d been excited to see what you were writing about in there. obviously vapid stuff, like gossip among your friends or how much you hated your literature professor. they knew you fantasised about them, but not the extent. needless to say, when they opened it, they were quite taken aback by what it contained.
december 5, 2023 — i can’t stop thinking about sejanus. this morning i made myself cum three times just to the thought of him forcing me on my knees and shoving his cock down my throat. i know i seem like a whore, and maybe i am, but when i caught him coming out of the shower the other day, i couldn’t help but stare. he’s so toned, and though he blushed when i saw him in nothing but a towel, i knew he saw that i wanted him too.
december 14, 2023 — i think i have a problem. both of my roommates are too hot for their own good. i know i’ve got a boyfriend, but fuck, i can’t stop thinking about both sejanus and coriolanus putting their cocks in me and pumping me full of their cum. i purposefully wore a pair of lace panties underneath a really short skirt of mine, and made sure i bent over right in front of them, but neither said a word. i wish they would’ve taken me right then and there, one in my mouth and the other in my pussy. why won’t they notice me?
december 29, 2023 — dumping him was the best thing i ever could’ve done… coryo and sej finally came to their senses and helped me 'feel better'. i need them again and again. all i can think about is how good they both felt inside of me at the same time, stretching me out so good. i came twice and took both their loads. i’m soaking at just the thought of having their cocks again…
january 9, 2024 — when coryo wasn’t allowed to touch himself, all i could think of is how much i would love to tell him what to do, to suck him off without letting him have a say in anything, watching as he squirms and begs to cum…
january 15, 2024 — i’ve been desperately aching for sej to boss me around again, but coryo has been the one making me take him from behind, or let him fuck my tits. i quite liked when sejanus tied me up and ate me out until i was begging to cum…
when you’d walked in, seeing coryo and sej peering over your diary, your face dropped, blood running cold. they were laughing too, coryo more so than sejanus. you prayed they hadn’t read the pages about them, but when they heard you enter, coryo turned around and held the diary out with a grin.
‘i didn’t know your thoughts were so filthy, princess,’ coryo teased, shoving the page which detailed how you wanted to tease coryo into submission in front of your face.
‘i think she wants to try them out… leaving her diary around for us to see. she knew we’d be coming by and having a look,’ sejanus said to coryo, voice laced with want and authority.
your core burned, and you watched their eyes flicker to your thighs as you clenched them tightly. you were wearing one of your tiny skirts—one that could hardly even be considered a skirt—and they both knew it was intentional. in fact, coriolanus was sure he could see your white lace panties peeking out.
‘aw sej, look at her, she’s so horny already,’ coriolanus laughed, seeing you frown and whimper softly at his words.
your cheeks were stained pink, and sejanus took advantage of this moment to force you down against your bed, driving one knee between your thighs. you fell back onto your ass, trying not to giggle, for his usually kind features were stretched into a stern look. coryo watched, icy eyes shimmering with anticipation.
‘i think somebody needs to be taught a little lesson, hm?’ sejanus inquired, thumbing your chin.
you nodded, clenching your thighs once more, which set him off. you could see the large bulge in his pants, and he hastily removed them, along with his boxers, stroking his cock until it hardened.
‘are you gonna be a good girl and take my cock in your pussy, hm?’ sejanus taunted, pushing you back against the sheets.
you nodded dumbly, and spread your legs for him. sejanus pushed your skirt up around your waist, and shook his head in disbelief at the sight of your lace panties. what a fucking whore, wearing them as if you were anticipating to be fucked.
coryo came down next to sejanus, a jealous look twisted upon his features, but sejanus only greeted him with one of proud indignation. you were going to be his tonight, just like you’d fantasised about in your diary.
‘want your cock, sej,’ you begged, reaching a hand out to stroke him, but he shoved it away, still gentle with his movements, not like coryo, who was known to slap you sometimes (with your consent, of course).
‘no touching, princess,’ he warned, and you obeyed, too eager for his cock to do anything else.
‘are you gonna let me have a go at her, sej?’ coryo pleaded, sitting down next to you on the bed.
sejanus shook his head, moving his hands down to line his cock up with your entrance. he pushed your panties to the side, too lazy to slide them off, and rubbed his tip teasingly through your folds. you let out a pathetic whine, but sejanus did nothing but continue to tease his head, making sure to press it against your clit, watching as your lips stretched around a desperate gasp.
‘coryo, no touching,’ sejanus directed, spotting coryo palming at his cock, one pale hand reaching into his pants.
‘but sej, you can’t just expect me to watch you fuck her. c’mon man, she hasn’t sucked me off for days… do you know how fucking hard i am right now?’ coriolanus whined, looking like a stupid little brat. god, sejanus wanted to slap that look off his face.
‘if you’re so desperate, maybe if she’s good i’ll get her to take your cock too, but you can’t lay a hand on her. gotta do exactly as i say,’ sejanus remarked, a soft smile scampering across his lips. he was enjoying this newfound authority, enjoying the way coryo groaned in frustration.
you let out a soft whine as sejanus finally slid into you, girthy cock stretching out your tight walls. you were so wet, and the sound of your pussy taking sejanus’ cock made coryo squirm in desperation. he needed you, he needed you so bad, and fuck sejanus for being so bossy. he hated not being in charge, though he couldn’t deny how good it felt to cum when sej told him he could…
‘so fucking tight,’ sejanus grunted, burying himself fully inside of you. his hands drove your hips closer towards him, ass pressing flush against his balls so he could fill you to the brim.
‘i’m so hard sej,’ coryo breathed, clutching desperately at the bedsheets.
you were enjoying watching coryo act like a brat, his normally stoic mask slipping as he turned into a whining whore. so much for him making you gag on his cock last night, a reminder that you belonged to him when he saw you flirting with some guy at the bar. right now he was little more than a pathetic slut, trying desperately not to fist his cock.
your cunt clenched as sejanus pounded you, your heart was beating at the thrill coursing through your body. you found you liked his dominance, because he was usually so pliant with you and coryo, but now he had an excuse to treat you like the slut you really were, just begging to be fuckef.
‘mhm, fuck,’ you managed to spit out as sejanus’ cock poked at your cervix.
he moaned at the sight of his cock bulging in your tummy, the slight outline of the tip doing his head in. he couldn’t wait to spill his load in you and watch as coryo jealously whimpered and waited for his turn. after all, this was what you wanted. outlined and penned in ink in that stupid pink, fluffy diary of yours.
‘so fucking good, such a good girl,’ sejanus groaned, hands fondling your breasts as he rutted against your wet cunt.
coryo’s whines were becoming a distraction, but he was good enough—and desperate enough for you—that he didn’t dare to touch himself even though his cock sat red and throbbing against his stomach. droplets of precum dribbled onto his belly, but he was trying so hard to be good.
‘wanna take all your cum, sej,’ you murmured, pulling him down to kiss you.
sejanus moaned against your lips, and being kinder than coryo he didn’t punish you for trying to take the lead for a second, because your lips just felt so soft against his, and it brought him closer to you. your skin was dancing with warmth, and this angle allowed him to push himself painfully slow against your walls, watching as your body edged it’s way to release.
‘sej!’ you breathed out, your core beginning to tighten with a surge of heat.
‘you gonna cum? cum for me, pretty girl,’ he coaxed, and those words were your undoing.
you came undone around him, slick gushing round his cock, skin tingling with satisfaction as he continued to buck into you. your milky wetness was a sight to behold, and send sejanus’ head spinning as he began to fuck his way to his own release.
he made eye contact with coryo, who was groaning as his cock continued to dribble translucent pre. he didn’t know how much longer he could take it, and poor sejanus, he just hated how pathetic coryo looked, and figured he was obliged to help him. if only this once. he’d find a way of punishing coryo properly, next time.
‘baby, i’m gonna turn you over,’ sej directed, sliding out of you for a moment and flipping you onto your knees.
your ass was pressed firmly against his pubic bone, hard cock poking at you and trying to find your entrance. you were face to face now with coryo’s crotch, and your mouth grew wet at the sight of it.
‘want you to suck coryo off, yeah?’ sejanus ordered, and coryo’s features relaxed, knowing he was going to get his sweet release.
‘you sure, sej? you said before…’ your voice trailed off, but he shook his head.
‘it’s okay, changed my mind—only because he’s whining so much. but coryo, you can’t touch her. you haven’t earned that.’ sejanus remarked, and coryo nodded, glad to even get his satisfaction.
sejanus groaned at the feeling of your cunt clenching against him at this angle, and grabbed gently at your hips, guiding himself in and out against your slick walls. he was growing closer, but watched as you moved your hand to reach for coryo’s cock.
‘please…’ coryo whimpered, using all his might to not fist his hands in your hair.
you used the flat of your tongue to swirl around the tip, licking up all the precum that had shamefully dribbled from him in his desperate state. coryo gave a sinful moan, and had to steady his breathing to not shoot his load straight down your throat.
you looked up at him, a moan escaping your lip as sejanus pounded your cunt, his grunts filling the air and mingling with coryo’s. you took him in your mouth, saliva coating his big length. because he’d been so bad, you figured he didn’t deserve to be taken all the way in, especially when taking his eight inches often ached.
you bobbed your head up and down to about half way, and found yourself gagging a little, which made the corner of coryo’s lips flicker slightly, showing that he still loved to watch you take him like a little slut.
‘so good,’ he gasped out, already feeling himself nearing his release.
you smiled, and found yourself taking him further as sej’s thrust nudged you a little too much. this time, you really gagged, and tears sprung in the corners of your eyes. coryo wished he could brush them away, but of course, no touching.
‘fuck,’ sejanus cried out—you’d almost forgotten about him, so distracted by taking coryo in your mouth.
you felt him pull out, and whined a little against coryo’s cock—you loved to be filled with the boys’ cum, but obviously sejanus had decided on something else.
he began to stroke his cock, focused on the way you were gagging so prettily on coryo, and the way coryo was whimpering helplessly, begging to touch you, begging to push your head down further. being forced into submission was torture, and yet, coryo was enjoying every second of it, especially the way you were fondling his balls, eyes fluttering as he pleaded with you to stop teasing.
‘gonna cum all over that pretty ass of yours, baby,’ sejanus moaned, giving the head of his cock a squeeze before hot, sticky spurts of cum spilled all over your lower back, and then your ass.
‘fucking hell,’ he said breathily, as he kept coming, and coming, pearly white strands painting your skin. ‘so beautiful, god coryo, look at her.
coryo mewled as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock, teasing him deliciously, forcing him to wait for his own finish. sejanus lay back and admired his handiwork, and how pretty your ass looked all covered in his cum.
coriolanus began to groan, hips bucking helplessly against your mouth, and you pulled away. his features darkened, and he almost reached a hand out, but you slapped it away, and began to jerk him off.
‘want you to cum on my face,’ you mused, an impish grin dancing upon your plump, wet lips.
coryo nodded lazily, and sejanus shifted so he could see it happen. god, you looked so pretty like this, cum on your ass, hand stroking coryo’s shaft. he began to thrust into your palm, and you thumbed the top before his own pearly ropes burst out.
‘mhm, perfect,’ coryo mustered, head tossed back as he reached his own release.
sejanus’ heart began to pound as he watched coryo’s cum coat your face, your pretty features skewed by the white stuff. still, he thought it added to your beauty, the way it dropped down your cheeks and all over your lips, reminding you that you belonged to them.
perhaps them finding your diary hadn’t been such a bad thing, after all. especially when it lead to one of your dirty thoughts coming to fruition.
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scruus · 1 year
Text
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★̶̲ [ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 ]
✎ sub kafka + dom gn reader notes: exhibitionism, finger sucking, exhibitionist kafka, public setting, orgasm, no actual sex; this is inspired by a fav fic of mine i had read a few years ago on tumblr and i felt kafka would fit this scenario best. Also my writing style is a bit different here.
lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ trash magic - lana del ray
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“You know, this place has the best coffee, like ever!”, picking a tissue from the steel cup, you wiped the cream off your fingers.
Pressing your fingertips together, “shit”, they still felt sticky. Ugh you hated this feeling. It felt so wrong.
Kafka nods. Perhaps to your previously said statement or she understood the icky expression on your face because of the sticky remnants of the cream staining your fingers and agreeing to the discomfort.
The cafe wasn’t usually bustling on weekdays but ever since the news that some extremely handsome, gothic, tall man with pretty long hair has been serving coffees to young ladies with a smirk and a glare, the business has picked up alot.
“It doesn’t look like poor bladie is enjoying this”, kafka tugs her chin out to the counter he was at, before pulling the cup of hot chocolate, and the dollop of white cream on it, towards her grinning face.
“I don’t know if I should be scared or laughing my ass off-”, you muttered before taking another spoonful of the whipped cream, “probably the former”, and dropping it in your coffee cup, diluting it with the pretty spoon.
Kafka hummed in response. You noticed a few people linger their gazes around your table. It wasn’t too weird, especially when it was kafka seated across you.
A beautiful, gorgeous lady with hair so luscious; eyes resembling sharp gems screaming power; and those harnesses fitting her body like some sort of a bodycon dress. It made her shorts and shirt combo look way more sluttier than it was supposed to be.
It was more of a work outfit if you take out those black harnesses! (And ignore her curves)
Kafka licked her lips slowly, trying to get any leftovers of the drink on her mouth. But her tongue couldn’t reach that small spot above her upper lip.
“Kafka”, you signed to your own lips, “there’s some-”, hoping she will get the idea. Kafka smiled in return, leaning over the table, hands resting on them.
“Why don’t you help me?”, she asked in that sickening sweet voice. That tone in her voice always meant something more. It wasn’t that simple with Kafka.
Although feeling quite nervous, you tried to let it not show on your face. Nodding, you picked up a tissue and moved your hand towards her face.
“[y/n], I asked for your help”, she jerked her head away from the nearing tissue, her eyebrows cocking up, as if you failed to understand her question.
“Uh…what do you want me to do then?”, your hands were still paused in the air. Hesitant and confused.
Kafka’s eyes glinted. She took the tissue out of your hand, tossing it on the table. Not breaking eye contact, in all this time.
She takes your hand, placing your fingers on the bit of cream on her face perfectly, as if she herself positioned the sweetened thing and it wasn’t an accident from just sipping like a normal person.
But again, Kafka was never normal.
Your fingers scooped up the cream in one swift motion, all the while being guided by Kafka’s hand. You almost pulled your hands back but her grasp was still there. Softly holding your hand and letting it linger there.
Slowly she pulled your palm towards her mouth, your fingertips dancing across her lip on a rhythm set by herself. She parts her wet lips, taking two of your fingers inside her mouth (the cream was only on one).
And she starts sucking on them. Nibbling and coating your digits in her saliva. Swirling her tongue around and around like your fingers are some sort of a candy, a favourite of hers.
You curl your lips in, eyes widened, before uttering a lowly whisper-yell, “Kafka!”. But you didn’t pull your fingers out. You didn’t even pull your hand back. In fact, her palm is no longer clasped against your hand. Its on your wrist now.
There was no force though. No harsh grip. Nothing. She was just….touching you. While your fingers were trapped inside her mouth. So you had all the control to remove your hand from her mouth, but you didn’t.
Exhaling a soft needy moan, she continued to suckle on them. Oh, this is different. You felt this weird tightening in your gut. Your throat, dry. Your core, pulsing.
You push your fingers further inside, until your knuckles were touching her lips and your thumb was caressing her chin. Your fingertips prodded at the base of her tongue and you could feel her heartbeat increase in pace.
Her lips continued to form a tight circle around you, sucking you in till she was choking on it.
Kafka was now rubbing her legs together. She could feel something wet inside her panties. There was an unbearable hotness creeping up inside of her. The lit of a fiery passion.
“mmph fuck~”, she slobbers around your fingers, her throat constricting and you could see small veins pop up. Bits of drool trickled down, enough to stain her chin but not in such quantities that they would be dripping down.
However something else was dripping and you both knew very well what it was.
As much as this was hauntingly thrilling and embarrassing to you, you started to indulge in it. The squint in Kafka’s eyes, tears coating them; the shaking whimpers and moans escaping from her throat when she wasn’t entirely focused on being facefucked by your fingers.
“You do really like putting on a show in public”, you chuckle, noticing sets of stares at your table. It had suddenly turned quiet. Not the bustling mess it was a few minutes ago. From the corner of your eyes, you even see a blushing blade peeking at you two.
Just what in the hell are those two doing?, you laugh in your head, already aware of what he was thinking.
“mmhm”, Kafka nods. She suddenly turned so obedient and quiet. Well not like quiet quiet but more like submissive quiet. Like what she usually is when sexual tension between you two starts riling up and all her cool, snarky attitude falls down and she just becomes a dumb slut.
Her hands gripped on the leathered couch, fingers digging in and surely shredding a bit of it. It didn’t matter though. This was more important to her.
Her tongue was rummaging between your fingers, as if being played by them. So slimy and wet, she was salivating a lot more than usual. Your fingerpads were in her throat, and she chokes out a strangled moan. A tear finally escaping her eyes as she shuts them closed.
Did she cum?, startled, you pull your fingers out. A string of saliva forming a bridge before breaking apart quickly. A few drops of it falling on the table.
You didn’t wipe your hands. You stared at Kafka, alarmed and troubled. Although the heat flaring your cheeks may say your true intentions of making her cum in public, in front of so many people, it was also immensely embarrassing.
Kafka’s chest heaves up and down. Her bosom looking restrained under that tight shirt of hers. Sweat droplets forming on her forehead and her face so pretty and red.
Her parted lips were still coated in her saliva, red lipstick smudged. Oh and she has that look. The exact replica of when she climaxes underneath you.
But she smiles. Picking up the same tissue she tossed to the side and wiping her messy lipstick and dabbing that sweat away.
“As much as I would love to put on a show for everyone here”, ugh its that tone again, “-I would rather spread my cunt only for you to fuck into”, she takes out her wallet and places a 30 on the table. Acting as if the entire fucking café didn't just hear her say that.
“Keep the change”, her merry voice calls out to the very bewildered waiter. Before your blushing mess of a head can form a reply, she takes your trembling, drool covered hand, and exits the café.
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slut4thebroken · 7 months
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Hear me out: Dominant Neil Lewis saying this to his best friend “I don’t like people touching what’s mine.” Because Neil is so the type who hates it when someone’s attention isn’t on him like he’s possessive and desperate for it.
Barely proofread lol but enjoy <3
I’m trying to get better at being able to post fics that don’t have a difinitive start and end lol. That’s the main reason it takes me so long to write :,)
“Dude, you look like you’re gonna blow a blood vessel or something.” Lucian said, making Neil huff. 
“She’s letting some random dickhead feel her up!” He said defensively, throwing his arms around in a wild gesture at the appalling sight. 
“She’s a grown adult… She can do what she wants.” Jonathan spoke carefully, not wanting to set him off even more. “And he’s barely even touched her..” 
“You know what? If she’s gonna act so careless, it’s only right that I look out for her.” He said, now sounding more determined than angry. 
“Neil… don’t do something stupid.” Lucien’s warning fell on deaf ears though. 
“He’s definitely gonna do something stupid..” Jonathan said to the other man just as Neil started storming over. 
“Finding everything okay?” He gritted with a forced smile, practically glaring daggers at the douchebag who thought he could come into his store and touch his friend like some fucking pervert. 
“Yeah, man. Thanks…” He replied, sounding a little confused. You gave Neil a questioning look, but he ignored it and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. “Oh.. Sorry, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” He said to you, his tone almost making Neil feel guilty because the man genuinely seemed like he felt bad about this whole thing. 
“I don’t.” You said in a low voice, looking up at Neil and glaring at him.
“Yeah well she’s not interested in dating right now anyway.” He said definitively, making your eyes narrow even more. 
“Yes I am.”
“You’re not even her type.” That made you scoff, even though.. he was technically correct. “If you’re not planning on renting a movie you can see yourself out.” Neil said sweetly, giving the man a saccharine smile. 
“Uh… okay then.” He said awkwardly, giving you another look before finally walking out. 
“What the fuck was that?” You hissed, gently elbowing him in the stomach to get him off of you. 
“Sexual harassment is not tolerated at Gumshoe Video.” You stared at him for a moment, trying to read his tone, but you quickly realized that he wasn’t joking. 
“You can’t be serious.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“He’s not even your type anyway, I don’t get why you were talking to him in the first place.” 
“It’s called making a friend. If you tried that every once in a while, you might have more friends than just the three people in this room.” You were quickly getting more frustrated and annoyed with him. 
“That’s what friendship is? So I can start feeling you up then?” You rolled your eyes at his immature response. 
“God- Neil, you can’t keep doing this!”
“I don’t like people touching what’s mine.” He said in a low voice as he took a step closer, bringing a light blush to your cheeks.
“We’ve been over this,” You sighed. 
“Yeah, we have. And yet you seem to keep forgetting.” He snarked. Knowing this conversation wasn’t going to get you anywhere, you rolled your eyes and walked over to flop down onto the couch next to Jonathan. He gave you an apologetic smile and you laughed quietly in response. Honestly you were surprised Neil didn't have a problem with you interacting with his friends. Maybe he just knew that they wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and make a move on you. 
“You're welcome by the way, for saving you from that creep.” He called out, making you roll your eyes again with an exaggerated huff. You’re not going to ever admit it because he’d start using it as an excuse for acting like this, but you were a little uncomfortable with the way that guy was touching you. Sure it was a playful hand on your shoulder, but you felt embarrassed and awkward, especially because you could practically feel Neil’s eyes on you throughout the whole interaction. 
“I was fine.” You grumbled, sinking into the couch a little and sulking. Truthfully, you kind of liked his protective nature. It made you feel wanted. But the longer this went on, the stronger that feeling became, making him even more overbearing to the point where you wondered if you’d ever actually be able to get a boyfriend while you were still friends with Neil. 
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Don't Over-Do It
Based on this request: Could you write a fluffy imagine for the Volturi with the reader being Marcus descendant, Aros mate and Janes best friend? The reader tends to overwork both in her job and by working out. The Volturis are far to protective to let her continue like that.
Here you are, lovely! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine.*
Fandom: Twilight
Warnings: mentions of passing out and forgetting to eat. Some light fluff.
Pairings/Characters: Marcus Volturi x fem!descendant reader (familial), Aro Volturi x fem!reader (romantic), Jane Volturi x fem!reader x Caius Volturi (platonic, soul-siblings)
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Marcus had never thought he'd have any  descendants. He never knew if any of his human family had continued on the family line. But then he met you and immediately saw the bond between you and him. And not just him. You had several other bonds within the Volturi including the silver bond of soul-siblings with Jane and even Caius, and the golden bond of true mates with Aro. To say Marcus was happy to have a connection to his former life would be an understatement. There was just one problem.
       You were a perfectionist and somewhat of a workaholic. You would work and work until everything was just right. It didn't matter what it was, work, hobbies, or even exercise. You were determined to do it right and you weren't going to stop until it was perfect. Aro, Marcus, and Jane hated that. It wasn't that they didn't want you to succeed, but they hated seeing you overwork yourself. 
They all tried to get you to slow down, especially Aro. He hated seeing his mate exhausted all the time. Though, his approach to this was to turn you sooner rather than later. You fought him on that. Aro wasn’t afraid of much, but he was terrified of losing you and even more afraid of your temper. It made Caius laugh to see Aro nearly cower under your intense glare every time he mentioned turning before you were ready. But all amusement faded from the four vampires when you finally over-did it.
You were taking out your frustrations on a punching bag one evening after working on a work task for hours. The ever-watchful Jane and Demetri stood in the corner keeping an eye on you when it happened. Mid-jab, you suddenly stopped and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Jane was at your side in an instant while Demetri raced to get kings. 
You were vaguely aware of arguing voices when you woke a few hours later. “Aro, you risk irreparably damaging your bond if you turn her without her permission. You know this,” came Marcus’ low voice. “I agree with Master Aro,” Jane grumbled, almost too softly for you to hear. You could feel the tension in the room, so you decided to try and speak up.
“And if either of you does that, I will personally rip your arms off and put them back on backwards when I wake as a newborn.” Aro was sitting next to you a split second later. “Cara Mia, you worried us,” he crooned as if you would forget you just threatened him and Jane. “I realized that. I’m sorry.”
“As loath as I am to agree with Aro about, well, anything outside of trials,” Caius stated, “I believe he and Jane may be correct in this case, Y/N. You cannot continue on like this.” You glanced between their faces. They all looked more worried than you’d ever seen them. A soft sigh escaped you. It wasn’t the first time this had happened to you, but the first they had experienced it. The whole situation was frightening since you were so fragile compared to them.
“I’m sorry I worried you all,” you relented, “I-It was always drilled into me that I had to be perfect. Nothing was ever good enough and I guess that’s carried over into adulthood. I’m not ready to turn yet, but I will try to take it easier. I’ll set break alarms or let Jane drag me away from my work more. I-Is that okay?”
“I don’t like it, but if I never have to experience this fear again, I suppose I can accept this for now,” Aro relented after a few moments of silence. Marcus stayed silent since he was simply there to ensure your bonds stayed intact. He was concerned, of course, but your bonds with the others were far more fragile for now. 
“I still agree with Master Aro,” Jane stated, concern still painting her angelic, childlike features. Caius rolled his eyes at the two of them, but you could see he was feeling the same way they were. “Very well, but if this happens again, I don’t think even Marcus would disagree with turning you.” Marcus merely nodded in agreement when your eyes met his.
“Sleep now,” he suggested only for your stomach to let out the loudest growl he’d ever heard. You felt your face heat up at the noise that betrayed the fact that you hadn't eaten very much that day. Marcus laughed, “Perhaps food is in order first.” You nodded slightly, prompting Jane to rush out. Caius and Marcus followed, but when Aro tried to get up, you gripped tightly to him. 
“Stay?” you asked in a soft voice. “Of course, Tesoro.” He settled back and let you cuddle into him. “I really am sorry,” you whispered. You felt Aro place a kiss to the top of your head. “I worry for you, Y/N. I cannot lose you.” You nodded against his chest, feeling your eyes start to drift closed against your will. Aro chuckled. The last thing you heard before you let sleep pull you under was,  “Sleep, my love. I will be here when you wake.”
(I hope you like it!)
Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief
Twilight Tags: @awesomebooklover17
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gavisuntiedboot · 1 year
Note
Whenever you have the time could you write about Gavi with a gf that is a bit reserved and touch starved, her love language is physical touch but she doesn't initiate it with Gavi because her ex always told her she is clingy and annoying so she's insecure about it, so Gavi tries to show her it's okay by always cuddling her, or touching her in any way. And then over time she starts to initiate the cuddling/touching and Gavi is so proud and happy because she finally feels comfortable with him
Your writing is amazing btw, I've decided to wait for you to finish Just Pretend completely to continue reading it because whenever I finish the last chapter you post I get so sad because the next one isn't out yet and I can't live in the agony of not knowing what happens next
Pls hold my hand
"Princess, why do you have a sweatshirt that says ‘clingy’ on it?”
You looked over to Gavi, who plopped himself down on the couch next to you, grabbing the remote to cue the Netflix show the two of you had been watching for the last several weeks, eager to finally watch another episode, as the two of you held your shared series’ to a sacred standard. With only two episodes left of the latest “Drive to Survive”, you didn’t want to delay the experience with too much conversation.
"Just and inside joke between me and my friends.” You said, avoiding eye contact and focusing on the bag of m&m’s in front of you.
“Your friends think you’re clingy?” He asked, turning to face you as his hoodie slipped from his head, messy brown locks on full display. One of the things you adored about Pablo was how much he was always trying to protect you and look out for you. You weren’t really be confrontational, and this lead to some mistreatment and being pushed over at times by those close to you. Well, you used to. Since you and Pablo started dating about 8 months ago, he had been there to defend you against people who wanted to take advantage, and often was the voice reminding you to stick up for yourself.
“No no, it’s not them. It’s … something to do with my ex boyfriend. Do you still want to know?”
Gavi tensed at this. Despite you never saying anything explicitly negative about your boyfriend, all the stories Gavi heard made him hate the man with a burning passion. He had slowly but surely messed you up in so many ways, and now as Pablo worked to slowly unravel the knots tightened around your heart, he couldn’t help but curse the man that tied them to begin with.
“Yeah. You can tell me.”
You shifted in your seat, rather uncomfortable with the topic, but not wanting to lie to your boyfriend.
“Well, remember that little love languages quiz I made you do? Well I did mine like years ago, and I got physical touch. Which makes sense right because that’s one of yours and we seem to be getting along pretty well.” Gavi giggled at this, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and causing you to tense.
“Well, my last boyfriend wasn’t super into like… touching? Fuck that sounds sexual. I mean he didn’t really like being touched or cuddling or all that couple stuff. Didn’t like holding hands either. And like this one time, he was watching something on his computer and I was feeling bold or whatever and tried to sit on his lap — he hated that though. He liked pushed me onto the floor and told me to stop being clingy.” You forced out a laugh, trying to lighten the mood and soften the look of horror that had occupied Gavi’s face.
“That was actually why I broke up with him. Anyways I didn’t hug any of my friends for a month after that, and when they finally confronted me and I told them why, they got this made me for me. See, look at the sleeve,” you said, stretching out your arm to show him the ‘pls hold my hand’ embroidered on the sleeve. “So now whenever I’m in my clingy sweatshirt, my friends give me a ton of hugs and stuff. It’s funny. I think.” You say, winching slightly by the fact that Pablo’s eyebrows are still pushed together in anger.
He muttered his grievances about your boyfriend while cuddling closer to you, pulling you into his chest. Your cheeks warmed as they were pressed against Gavi’s beating heart. Despite the long time you had been dating Pablo, you still were shy when it came to initiating any sort of affection. You were too scared of annoying him and pushing him further away. So you remained shy and reserved, only responding to the touches he initiated.
“Give me your hand, silly. Never been with a girl who came with instructions before. Maybe I should get you a pair of panties that say-“ his sentence abruptly ended with a pillow to the face. You giggled, trying to pull away from his grasp, but he just pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you now.
“Oh no no princesa. You’re not going anywhere. Now hush and make mean comments about Verstappen with me.”
~
Over the next few weeks, Pablo had made an active effort to make you more comfortable with being physical with him. Whenever the two of you were out, he held your hand or had you two link arms. He hugged you and kissed you on the cheek or forehead, asking, “you don’t want to give me a kiss back, Amor?” Puppy dog eyes and adorable pout on display, you coyly returned the peck to his jutted out lip. He smiled widely, teeth almost blinding you. He returned with an attack, kissing you across both cheeks, and ending with a searing kiss to the lips.
His favorite time was when you two watched shows together. He would always pull you in close, cuddling with you next to him on the couch. He would lean close and whisper his comments about the show into your ear, making your skin erupt in goosebumps as his breath famed over. He would press kisses into your temples, breathing in the sweet smell of your hair, and reminding you how much he loved being around you.
“You’re so warm amor - my personal furnace. I love it.”
“Your skin is so soft, feels so nice.”
“I wish I never had to get up from beside you.”
After three weeks of hand holding, kisses, and encouragement, you finally found the confidence to approach Gavi to heal your touch starvation. You put on your clingy hoodie again, laying out snacks on the coffee table and firing up her Netflix.
“Princesa I’m here! Where are you?”
Running to the door, you wrapped both arms around Gavi’s neck, pulling him into you and greeting him with a firm kiss. As he recovered from the unexpected greeting, you informed him that you would be in the living room pulling up a new series. He followed closely after kicking off his shoes, and peeling off his Barca jacket, picking up the hoodie you had laid out for him.
“Did you change shampoos? Used to be peach and now it’s strawberry.”
“How could you tell?” You asked, grabbing some drinks as Pablo got comfy on the couch. He crossed his arms across his chest, legs spread and back slumped.
“My clothes smell different around the shoulders. That’s usually where your wet hair sits.” He looked over at you, watching your eyes go wide. “Amor, you know I love you, stop being surprised when I actually act like it. Now what are we watching?”
Taking a deep breath, you walked back over. You grabbed the remote, pressing play.
“The new season of Black Mirror is out and I’m dying to see it. Heard this one is creepier than normal.” As you explained, you walked over to Gavi. Before he could move to make space for you on the sofa, you draped yourself over his lap. Your legs were to his side, back pressed to his chest. Your arms wrapped around his torso, and you laid your head on his shoulder. ‘Deep breaths it’s okay he’s not going to push you off.’
Pablo was stunned for a moment, so much so that he remained motionless. Once the shock wore off and he felt your slight tremble, he brought his muscled arms around you, pulling you tightly against him, soft lips pressing to your pulse point and freeing a soft gasp from your throat. He rested his head atop yours, the pressure and warmth comforting and familiar.
“Look at you being bold cariño. If I knew it would get you to sit in my lap we would’ve done this months ago.” You giggled softly in response, turning to face him. You rested your forehead against his, gazing deeply into the deep brown pools of his eyes. Leaning in, his lips eagerly met yours, refusing to release you. When you finally pulled away, you resumed your comfortable position in Pablo’s embrace. “I’m so proud of you, princesa.” The two of you fell into s comfortable silence, enjoying the show, squeezing each other tighter whenever things got intense.
“Can I get a matching clingy hoodie for whenever I want cuddles?” Pablo asked, smiling at you from above.
“I don’t think so, Pablito. You would never take it off.”
~~~
Guys I have the worst headacheeeeee but yay I posted!
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