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#even though i loathe her lol
good-beansdraws · 4 months
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Massive Milgramsona art/info dump as a treat to myself!! Alas, my fatal flaw is being unable to shut up about anything even while simultaneously embarrassed/nervous to share, so here's literally all the info I have on her 😅
Profile:
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Name: For the sake of posting online I’ll call her Rose!
Number: 012
Color: #E7355B
Age: She’d be 20 when Milgram started
Status: Milgram Staff, Machine Technician
Song genre: Pop/theater (a mix of Mahiru and Kazui's vibes)
Backstory: She is studying abroad in Japan to work on technology related to the mv machine when she stumbles into top secret info about the trials. Horrified at the lack of prior testing, she demands to be included in the experiment to make sure the brand new tech runs smoothly and doesn't harm anyone in the process. To prevent her leaking info to the public and deciding an extra participant wouldn't hurt, Milgram agrees.
Role: Rose performs routine maintenance and updates on the extraction machine, and checks in with prisoners' health to make sure it's not having any adverse effects. She listens in on the interrogations, ringing the bell to signal Es when the machine is ready for use (re: my theory on how it works >:3). She then watches the mvs after Es to make sure there are no glitches.
(Though she is a personal milgramsona, her role in the story is supposed to reflect the audience's experience overall when it comes to how much info we know, emotions we experiencing regarding guilt/responsibility, and how much power over events we actually have given the voting system and trial breaks.)
Trial 1
Jackalope's comments during trial commencement: Oh, I almost forgot participant 012, Rose. We've never had more than one staff member before, so we figured that sort of numbering would be fine. Hey, don't look at me, it's not like it was our idea to include her. She's not a prisoner -- the only crime she's committed is sticking her nose where it didn't belong... You can ask her for the details, but she's just here for maintenance on our extraction machine. It's not easy keeping that thing running smoothly, you know? As part of her duties, she'll be privy to all the same information as you, but don't let her be any more of a busybody than she already is -- she has absolutely no authority when it comes to your verdict decisions, got it?
MV: Mic Check - “Can anyone hear me?”
VD: Positive Feedback
Cover: Pathological Facade - Ghost
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Her album would release last in line. The VDs aren't interrogations since there's been no crime -- Es asks about her duties and observations of the prison. In them, she admits her predictions that she and Es will eventually be on trial for their involvement in the prisoner's fates.
Thus, her mvs are focused on her emotions towards the prisoners, her pride in helping bring justice, and her guilt at providing Milgram a means to pass judgement on people she cared about. I'm going to Goncharov the actual mvs/songs, but Mic Check is generally an introduction to her job behind the scenes prepping the equipment that will allow the prisoners' songs to be heard, as well kick off symbolism of her as a performer herself. She'll make a comment about how the experiment is leading to tragedy, "as if someone said Macbeth" (then covers her mouth, as she's standing in a theater herself).
I kept getting tripped up looking for Deco*27 songs that worked and weren't already taken, so I decided to go with some favorites and vibe-matching songs from other artists!
Comments during trial closing: It's good to hear you weren't a pushover when Rose gave her thoughts on the verdicts -- you guys disagreed on quite a few of them, eh? Ah... so she's not the type to pick fights, is that it? I guess that explains how she's managed to get along with everyone. (sigh) Even you knew better than to get attached like that. Well, at least she's kept our machine up and running the whole time.
Trial 2
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Commencement: Now I need to wake Rose. We're going to need some extra upgrades to our machine if we want to get the most out of this round of extractions. I've got a sneaking suspicion that she and her bleeding heart are going to try and sway you during this trial. Her duty is specifically to look out for the prisoners' safety, but yours is only to judge them. Don't forget that.
MV: Changement - “Don’t say ‘break a leg,’ if it might just break.”
VD: Control Variable
Cover: TOXY - Kujiragi
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I did my best to write out the title pronunciation out in katakana since I wanted it as the name of the dance move, not a direct translation of meaning. I went with シャジェモ "sha-je-mo" as the closest I could get to the "shanj-mou" sound, but feel free to correct me if there's a better way to write it. The door is based off of various set designs for Clara's home in The Nutcracker. (There's no deep meaning that this is the only one not opening -- I realized too late all the others are cracked open and my art app doesn't have the tools to easily fix that so I'm sticking with it 😭)
A changement is a small jump in ballet -- I thought it was fun to combine that (which means "to change") with Control Variable (refering to the variable in an experiment that never changes). The video shows conflicting emotions as her decisions/inaction caused so much to happen between trials, yet at the same time she feels like there's so much she'll be unable to change even if she really wants to intervene. Her mvs show the prisoners pretty regularly (since they are her crime, she's realized), and the teaser line is paired with references to Mahiru's broken leg.
The thumbnail combines different areas of study -- mechanical, medical, musical, mathematical (theater spotlight, muscles, Weakness notes, motion formulas). I think it's super cool how many areas of expertise are passed around the fanbase when discussing the characters. I've picked up new facts about plants, food, anatomy, geography, music, animals language, (sigh. color theory.), hobbies, professions, mythology, etc from fans with different fields of knowledge. While that's one of my favorite aspects of the project from the outside, I think it would be super intimidating to someone on the inside trying to tackle so much information at once.
Closing: As for Rose... (laughs) I thought she was dooming herself before--! Not only has she gotten hopelessly attached to everyone over the course of this trial, she's even started a relationship with one of the prisoners! And of all the people she could have chosen... Eh? Oh no, we have no policies against that for our staff. I mean, the whole point of Milgram is to explore human nature, the power of emotions, the complexities of connections, all that crap. I'm just grateful she shows a bit more common sense when she's operating the machine...
Trial 3
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MV: Showstopper - “There won’t be applause, but I’ll take a bow, okay?”
VD: Please Exit Left
Cover: Ironina - Nilfruits
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I don't know the album theme yet, but this is the tentative sprite and thumbnail design. The T2 sprite was kind of an "innocent" one, since at the beginning she still has faith in her role in the prison, excited to work with everyone there. (Plus, I joined the fandom a little after t2 started so that's peak excitement time lol). The T3 sprite has much more of a "guitly" feel to it because, at the end of T2 and after this hiatus, she'd harbor a lot more guilt about her position and fear about the experiment's conclusion. As a fun little detail, her pencil has been replaced with a more permanent utensil as final verdicts are locked in.
Now listen. My artist brain was constantly fighting my science brain when doing sprite designs -- I know gloves like that and nothing else isn't proper PPE. I know none of those are safety shoes (god forbid wearing just socks??? to the lab???). There should be no jewellery at all. The whole point of a lab coat is that you don't roll up the sleeves and expose your bare skin. However. It's anime character design. There can be compromise.
Referencing Rose's personal life as a performance and comparing Milgram's trials to one, I wanted the mv to play on "showstopper" as both a great show and a literal attempt to stop the project before it reaches its finale. There would be creepy comparisons in the mv between operating stage equipment and prison executions: curtain/set ropes and nooses, heavy duty lightswitches and electric chairs, etc.
Misc.
And lightening things up again -- birthday art and minigrams :3
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Birth flower: Camellias. Pink camellias symbolize love but also longing. The fact that they bloom in winter, and have a quick death (the entire flower wilts at once, instead of individual petals falling off), have inspired different meanings in different cultures -- overcoming hard times, facing death in battle, inseparable lovers, and so on
Three minigrams featuring my own annoyance that her design is a bit close to Shidou's coat/gloves look, a mandatory short joke, and a pun that works so perfectly for my Put-In-Situations guy
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pineappical · 1 year
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what are some your hc’s for tedtrent!! go crazy please!! :))
oh man oh man i know i have a whole bunch of them that i cannot for the life of me remember on the top of my head rn, which is why this ask is taking so long for me to answer but HMM...
i know that people like to make Trent out to be this, experienced Elder Gay type of guy but in my heart i know he's just as inexperienced to it as Ted (who, in my head, is bisexual, recently found out during his time in london or during the amsterdam episode even) and they're just two people falling in love in the most "I don't know how to do this, but I want to atleast try" way and at times get soo so so overwhelmed that someone loves them as much as they love the other. maybe their communication is absolute shit, maybe Trent doesn't even realize they're on their 3rd date and thought it was something similar to the indian restaurant where Ted just brought him along for dinner, i just think it could all be very silly, very intimate, just all around driving me up the damn walls!!!!!
oh also Trent absolutely hates Ted's whole, open jar peanut butter left on the counter for him to dip his finger into, thing. wishes daily that Ted would just use a darn spoon like a normal person 😭
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helreginn · 26 days
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pxnxply:
"I cannot ask that of you." Ilúvatar had his designs; in taking this mortal form, Melian had resigned herself to being part of them, creation and not creator - the audience, not the performer. She knew it was forbidden for the ainur to entangle themselves in the fates of the Children. Yet... "You would put yourself at such risk for her. For them. And yet I could not even tell you where they are. Morgoth has blinded me." @pxnxply @thegreatstrongbow
"Then.. Then do not ask it." The hand that wasn't laid over Melian's forearm reached up to softly caress her cheek, "I will go of my own volition."
Hel leaned forward, pressing her forehead to Melian's. Her eyes fell shut on a sigh that lingered in quiet. Bravery was not her strong suit. It took effort. Even just to figure out what it was that she was afraid of..
"If he wills it, I will find them. I will bring them home. And if I cannot.. I can at least slow down the rest."
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dutybcrne · 5 months
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Thinkings thinkings of Fatui!Kaeya have been reawakened in reviewing Arle's teasers/animations
#☆ ┆ ( .ooc. );#//Whether it's Dad!Pierro or not; I do love the idea of him being left in the care of the Fatui/House of Hearth#//Tho timelines considered; he prolly would be in Pierro's personal care while Arle goes through her Traumatic Matricide Experience#//Doubt the man would want to leave him out of his sight; Khaenri'ahn/Alberich ties considered#//Or maybe he was raised/trained to fight under Signora. Or even for Columbina (her namesake's ties to Pierro's; considered)#//Tho also do LOVE the idea of Kae and Taru growin up together in the Fatui ranks and being the disastrous + shy boi duo#//Tho Kae'd prolly have less to hide/fear with them when it comes to his heritage. The strictness he'd be raised with though...#//Eh; Taru could bring him out of his shell even still jdbgfkf. If anyone can; he deffo could. His little wintry sunshine#//So maybe he'd grow into his peacock self a little more naturally; even if perhaps still out of necessity/for ease of his missions#//Less of a facade to hide his grief/missing pieces tho; more like the way Taru is charming & goofy to lower people's guards#//Still has his little habit of testing people deffo is Much worse and much more sadistic when it comes down to it#//Particularly towards fellow Fatui who disrespect him or their comrades; or just someone he ends up disliking in general#//Does 'test' new comrades; but is more willing to step in & help them if need be. Wants UTMOST trust; determination & loyalty in his men#//So will only ever take those who push to complete the mission at all costs; even themselves/willingly ask him for help when they need it#//Dislikes those who run; & LOATHES cowards who abandon comrades to save themselves; he WILL deliberately make sure they don't make it back#//Still employs his intel gathering methods as normal verse; but has preying mantis tendencies when it comes down to it nbcfjgf#//ESP if they try to take advantage of/blackmail him in some way. Or worse; those who betray him. He is meticulous & VERY ruthless abt it#//His signature is decapitation & an unmelting (Abyssal energy-laced) ice shard through the heart; around which he'd carve a stylized one#//If those informants keep being useful to him; they are safe; and treated so lovingly by him; spoiled rotten with gifts & favors aplenty#//Once they lose their usefulness...well; regrettably he cannot leave any loose ends. These become frozen as statues for him to keep#//'Precious mementos of lovers & conspirators'; he'd call them. He'd keep them in his private home in Snezhnaya#v; glacialis pavonis (fatui!kaeya)#//If he had to have a Harbinger title/name (maybe bumped up for when Scara erases himself); he'd prolly be l'Innamorato#//Fitting of his methods (is also the remaining role of Commedia dell'arte lololol). He is saccharine sweet; pretty & deadly as a belladonn#//Deffo would have tango-based motifs rather than waltz; would favor frost-laced roses. Might even leave those with his victims too#//Can you tell I listened to Rondo Across Countless Kalpas as I wrote this up jhbfjgkfhf#hc; kaeya#//I mean yeah lol. I have so many more thinkings abt this verse aaAAAA#//Am torn if I want his to use a Cryo Delusion; or have him with Cryo Vision and an Anemo Delusion. Do like that for Cryo Swirls#//Then his rage/scorn could be likened to a Blizzard. Do like that image. Deffo favors his Abyssal powers more tho; maybe THAT'd be better
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wewontbesleeping · 3 months
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i've listened to you're losing me so few times that i can count it on one hand lol. and this performance was incredible but yeah idc i'm not listening to that again unless under penalty of death
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tortademaracuya · 2 years
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I dont understand hate reading until i remember when i was a teen i would stay up to date with kaichou wa maid sama's manga even though i fucking hated it
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thewidowsledger · 4 days
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Bearer Of The Seed
© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE
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Pairings: Targaryen!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Word count: 5.1k
Warnings: +18, HOUSE OF THE DRAGON AU, AMAB!Natasha, Targayen!Natasha, smut, angst (sex just for the obligation of making heirs), forced marriage (political arrangement to save reader's family), Natasha plots to make reader pregnant while reader plots to deceive Natasha lol, lots of chasing, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, dubious consent, breeding kink, rough sex, bleeding (reader is a virgin), creampie, fingering (r receiving), overstimulation & squirting (r receiving)
Author’s Note: Tiger cub!!!! 🐅 Thank you so much for your request and I hope I wrote your request the way you imagined it to be. Yey, my first fic request done! There are more, hihi <3 ps. I am not actually back yet, I just wanted to post this ksksskskss
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“Rest and heal, my sweet. And I will make sure to make up for the night we missed,” she said in a soft and gentle tone, only for you to hear as you continued to lie there, your eyes closed in what appeared to be a deep and restful sleep.
“I’ll have you full of my seed in no time.”
She caressed your face for the last time gently before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“Father, smith, warrior. Mother, maiden, crone, stranger…”
The words felt like acid on your tongue. Each one stinging you as they leave your lips. You loathed having to say them. You loathed having to agree. This wasn't some love match. It was the voice of a prisoner accepting their fate.
You force yourself to keep your eyes on Natasha, refusing to blink despite the tears forming. You will not cry. Not in her presence. You will not give her that satisfaction. So you try your best to stand tall, to be defiant. Though it's hard when you feel so completely defeated as you said the final words that will seal you both forever.
“I am yours...and you are mine. From this day...until the end of my days.”
The last word was hardly out of your mouth when Natasha took a step forward and captured your lips with hers. Natasha’s grip on your hips tightens as she pulls you firmly against her. Her lips are rough and insistent as they move against yours. You can feel the tension and desire coursing through her as she claims your mouth in a possessive, greedy kiss.
With what seems like great effort, Natasha breaks the kiss. She takes a step back and you notice a sly smirk slowly appear on his face as she watches you try to catch your breath and you so badly wanted to wipe that on her face. Clearly, she was enjoying the effect she had on you, but you will not make this easy for her.
You will make sure to play this game on your hands, not hers.
“Heirs…”
Hearing your now family bring up the subject of heirs, made you feel a lump form in your throat. It was something you'd tried to avoid thinking about, but you knew it was a reality you would have to face.
Natasha didn't even flinch. She seems confident and unbothered, like she has no concerns in that regard. She responds without missing a beat.
“Oh, we’ll have heirs. Plenty of them, in fact.”
Natasha's grip on your hands tightens slightly, you force a tight-lipped smile on your face as you struggle to appear calm.
“I will make sure that our marriage bed will not lack heat. We’ll have as many children as the gods see fit to bless us with.” She added with such confidence.
You knew that the celebration was coming to an end and you were starting to feel overwhelmed by the noise and the crowd—by her. The air felt hot and stifling. Without saying a word, you excused yourself but as you stood Natasha didn't let go of your hand. So you eyed her intently authoritatively and she immediately released your hand, you didn't miss the flicker of hesitation and fear in her eyes. Her usual confident and authoritative demeanor seemed to be gone for a moment, revealing just the slightest crack in her armor.
As you walked, a small smirk tugged your lips, it gave you a sense of satisfaction, knowing that you had the power to affect her in that way. For a brief moment, you felt like you were in control, that you had some bargaining power in this situation.
Of course you do, you will play this game right on your palm, right?
You stepped into the cool night air of the corridors outside, you tried not to let your emotions get the best of you as you thought about the fact that your family had been saved, you realized just how high the cost was. Natasha had saved you from ruin, but the price was steep. You were now the payment, a pawn in a larger game of power and politics. Knowing that you were traded like a piece of livestock in exchange for your family’s safety, it was a bitter pill to swallow.
One of the foremost was the fact that you will need to carry the child of someone you didn't really know. Natasha Romanoff was a complex and dangerous woman, unpredictable, impulsive and arrogant—those are the only things you know about her. So the thought of being connected to her through a child was unsettling, to say the least. Yet you knew, as soon as the words of the scripted vows you loathed to say forcefully fell from your lips, there was no turning back.
It is inevitable or perhaps it can be avoided?
You were lost in your own thoughts, worrying about your future, when the maid servant's voice broke your train of thought.
“The celebration is over, your Grace. The King will be expecting you in her chambers.”
Her words and the instructions were simple, but they sent a shiver of unease through you. But you wanted to test the waters, you wanted to test who among you holds such power to the both of you.
“Let her know that I am denying her request,” you replied coldly as the night breeze.
“But your Gra—”
“Tell her that.” you cut her off with a finality, “I’ll be at my chambers, I’ll retire early for tonight.” You added, hinting that if she wished to prove the power she has on you, she will come and show you.
The night slipped away and you opted for the secret chambers that only and your maester, Wanda knew. Inside, you hoped to find solitude and respite from the pressures and chaos of the day.
You stayed in the dimly lit room, the only light provided by a few flickering candles, as the night went on. You didn’t know whether or not Natasha had come to your original chambers, expecting to find you there.
But you will make sure not surrender yourself, not without a fight.
Natasha was growing increasingly frustrated as she recounted different excuses from the maid servants every time she inquired about you. She hadn't seen you since the night of your wedding, and the more time passed the more suspicious she became.
Another maid servant entered her headquarters and she is for sure to deliver another excuse from you.
“The Queen is not feeling well, you Grace.”
The maid servant stood before the King, her hands clasped in front of her nervously as she delivered her message.
“What happened? What does the maester say the issue is?” The suspicion that she had in mind is now gone and is replaced by a deep concern for you.
“Well, you Gr—”
“I will go and check on my wife.”
“I fear the Queen doesn’t want anyone in her chambe—”
“I’m not anyone, I am her King. I am her wife.”
Without another word of excuse, she rose from her seat and stalked out of the room. The King wasted no time making her way through the halls of the Keep, her steps were loud as she walked towards your chambers.
The moment Natasha stepped into the chambers, her eyes immediately fell upon your pale form lying in the bed. She was by your side in an instant, her hand reaching out to touch your forehead—and she could feel the heat radiating from you.
“Gods, you’re burning up,” she muttered, as she took in your sickly appearance.
Natasha's eyes darted to the maester as she confirmed that you would be fine in time, and that you had been examined already.
“And what is the cause of her sickness?” she questioned, her gaze returning to you.
Wanda cleared her throat, as she darted her eyes on your sleeping form. She breathed, shutting her eyes before she explained the cause of your illness.
“It appears the Queen has fallen ill due to stress and exhaustion,” she said with a shaky voice, as she watched Natasha softly caress your body. “And it would be best for her to be left alone for a few days, allowing her body to rest and recover,” she added, finally eyeing the King.
“Days?” Natasha repeated as if she didn't hear it clearly.
“Yes…”
Natasha let out a heavy sigh, her mind conflicted. On one hand, she wanted to keep you in her sight and she wanted you to be okay now so she could spend the nights with you fulfilling the obligations of making a long line of heirs. On the other, she knew the maester was likely right about your need for solitude and rest.
“Rest and heal, my sweet. And I will make sure to make up for the night we missed,” she said in a soft and gentle tone, only for you to hear as you continued to lie there, your eyes closed in what appeared to be a deep and restful sleep.
“I’ll have you full of my seed in no time.”
She caressed your face for the last time gently before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
As she withdrew, she turned to the Wanda who was standing just outside the doorway of your chamber. “Do everything you can to ensure that she is well soon,” she instructed.
“Yes, your Grace.”
As soon as Natasha left your chambers, you slowly and stealthily got up from the bed where you had been feigning sleep. Your body trembled slightly as you inhaled deep breaths, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You were grateful that your plan had worked, and that Natasha had believed your act of being sick.
Wanda, your trusted maester and ally in your plan, looked at you with a sigh as you got up from the bed.
“I told you hot water and a cloth would do the trick,” she said, referring to the method she suggested to fake your elevated temperature.
“I’ll have you full of my seed in no time.”
“My Grace, are you alright? Are you really sick now? You look pale.”
You snapped back to the present, your mind still replaying Natasha's words from earlier when she spoke to you while you were pretending to be in a deep slumber.
“I’m fine,” you assured Wanda, your voice a little shaky. “Just a bit…tired, that’s all.”
Tired of all this.
“Well, I shall leave you alone then, my Grace.”
Wanda has been the first person you became close with, and she has been nothing but supportive to cover up for you and your plans. You even heard her lie for you just a while ago and that was not even a part of your plan. But when the King asked about your condition—your fake condition, she still did with no hesitation.
“Thank you, Wanda.”
It had been several days since Natasha’s visit, and you had successfully managed to avoid her so far due to your pretense of being sick. Now, you were stepping out into the gardens, seeking a change of scenery and some fresh air.
The gardens were a lovely sight, the sun shining brightly and the flowers in full bloom. You strolled along the pathways, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.
As you were walking in the garden, relishing the tranquil surroundings, your eyes caught a glimpse of something or rather, someone—in the distance. It was Natasha, standing next to Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm.
Her gaze was fixated on you and you could tell that she was surprised to see you out and about, considering the fact that you were supposed to be unwell. And now, she is making her way over to you.
Your instincts kicked in immediately, and your first thought was to run. Without hesitation, you darted through the gardens, your heart racing as you navigated the twisting and turning paths of the maze.
As you ran, adrenaline pumped through your veins, and you quickened your pace, determined to elude her as long as possible.
You were dressed in a gown made of flowing silk, the fabric soft and lightweight against your skin. The hem of the dress brushed against the grass as you ran, occasionally catching on the leaves of the maze bushes.
You sprinted through the maze, dodging and weaving between the high walls of greenery. As you continued running through the maze, your heart rate spiked ever higher when you caught a glimpse of Natasha through the gaps in the leaves.
Seeing her so close, so determined to find you, sent another jolt of adrenaline through your body, the fight-or-flight response kicking into high gear.
Although you were aware that she would eventually catch you, you refused to let her have an easy victory. You steeled yourself, determined to play this game in your own hands.
The twists and turns of the maze became your playground. Every time you thought she was closing in, you would change direction, taking unexpected forks that would put some distance between you again.
As you sprinted through the maze, looking back in the direction you last saw Natasha, a sudden body slammed in front of you. The force knocked you off balance, catching you off guard.
A pair of hands locked around your arms, effectively trapping you, preventing any further escape.
“Are you running away from me?”
As you met Natasha’s intense gaze, your heart raced and your words came out in a slight stutter. “Y-your Grace…” you started to say, but your mind was too preoccupied with the situation to form a coherent response.
You gulped as you looked away, and then replied with a shaky voice. “No, your Grace,” you said, your eyes still fixed on the soil where you were standing. Despite your denial, there was undeniable fear in your voice.
“I was expecting that you’re still in your chambers, resting. Wanda told me you’re still sick.”
“I wanted to go out, g-get some fresh air…”
“You should’ve come to me so I will go out with you.”
“I…” you hesitated for a moment, wanting to be careful on how you’re going to say the next words, “I wanted to have some time alone, y-your Grace.”
Her grip on your arms relaxed slightly as she heard your response. “I haven't had a night alone with you since our wedding, Y/N,” she said, she sounded a bit disappointed that made you hitch your breath.
“Look at me.” She commanded, leaving no room for disobedience. And you slowly did, as your gazes met, her eyes softened with a little fire of an intense desire, and her proximity to you made your heart race even faster.
In a swift and dominating move, Natasha closed the remaining distance between you and claimed your lips in a searing kiss. Natasha sensed your attempts to resist so she deepened the kiss, her tongue demanding entry, as her hands on your arms pulled you even closer to her.
Your resistance was a futile battle and you finally surrendered to her but you fought not to moan as her tongue explored the cavern of your mouth, leaving you breathless and vulnerable. As Natasha moved her attention towards your neck, her lips and tongue trailing along the sensitive skin, you tilted your head back, submitting to her control.
Her lips left your neck as she leaned towards your ear, her words a low, seductive whisper.
“I shall be expecting to see you in my chambers tonight.”
The evening had arrived, and Natasha made her way to her chamber, fully expecting to find you there—in her bed in all your glory. However, as she entered the room, her eyes scanned the space, but you were nowhere to be seen. Her initial confusion quickly turned into seething anger as she realized you didn’t follow her command.
She wasted no time and stormed through the corridors, her patience wearing thin. It has been far too long, and she is determined to have you, one way or another. Her strides were purposeful and filled with seething anger, her mind set on one mission.
To find you and bring you to her bed.
As soon as she stepped into your chambers, her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. She approached the figure lying in the bed, she leaned closer to get a better look of you, and when she dipped her knee to the soft bed, the figure suddenly moved, emitting a piercing scream. Startled, Natasha let out a gasp, quickly realizing it wasn’t you but your maid servant.
“Y-your Grace!” The maid servant rushed out apologetically as she immediately threw the thick covers out her body and stood.
“Where is Y/N? Why are you in the Queen’s bed?!” Natasha demanded.
“Queen Y/N noticed I-I wasn’t feeling well and…well, I am fine but-but the Queen insisted that I am not fine,” the maid servant’s hands flew in different direction as she tried to explain herself, “and she told me…she insisted that I should rest, right here, in her bed. And she left.” The maid servant scrambled, the words coming out in a rush from her lips not wanting to receive the seething anger of the King.
“Forgive me, your Grace…please.”
The maid servant's continuous apologies grew quieter as Natasha's attention shifted. Her gaze moved towards the window, where she spotted a figure dashing towards the garden maze. She instantly recognized it was you, and a sly smile tugged at her lips. Ignoring the maid servant, Natasha stepped towards the window of your chambers.
Once again, you found yourself racing through the labyrinthine maze, your breath coming in short gasps as you desperately sought an escape. The twists and turns of the paths seemed to taunt you, creating a confusing web to ensnare you. Fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, your mind focused on one goal and that is to survive the night without having to spend it on the King’s bed.
Natasha’s voice echoed through the night, “Making a maid servant sleep in your own bed, just to fool me?”
Despite the gasp that escaped your lips at the sound of Natasha's seething voice, you refused to let it slow you down. Your legs propelled you forward, your bare feet pounding against the cool grass as you continued your race through the maze. There was no time for looking back, only the need to elude her pursuit.
“You were never ill, Y/N!”
As you ran through the maze, the tears of fear started to well up in your eyes, causing you to shut them tightly shut. The emotions coursing through you were overwhelming—fear, defiance, and the weight of the situation hitting you all at once. Yet, amidst it all, a small part of you stubbornly held onto the hope that you could somehow escape Natasha.
Just as you rounded a corner in the maze, a strong body suddenly locked onto you, arms encircling you like a vise grip. Caught off guard, you let out a gasp in surprise, struggling against the strong hold. The realization that Natasha had finally caught you struck you like a bolt of lightning.
“I knew you heard me that time…I never lied when I said I will make sure you’re full of my seed.”
In a swift and effortless motion, Natasha scooped you up and threw you in her shoulders, her strong grip on your thighs unyielding as she carried you to her chambers. You tried to resist, squirming and fighting against her, but her strength was undeniable. Despite your attempts to break free, it was clear that you had no chance of escape.
The game is no longer in your hands. It never was.
The guards stationed nearby stood at their positions, their eyes averted from the scene. They could only watch as Natasha carried you flailing in her arms, your screams piercing the air. Fear for their own lives kept them in place, knowing full well that they could have their heads off if they bothered to look in your direction.
“Lock the doors!” she barked, her tone leaving no room for questions. The guards obeyed, swiftly securing the chamber doors, sealing you and Natasha inside. Without a moment of hesitation, she hurled you onto her bed, the force of her throw causing you to bounce slightly upon the plush mattress.
“Strip,” she commanded in a low voice that made you shiver in fear, “Remove every piece of clothing you wear. I want to see my wife before me in all her naked glory. Do not forget to remove any trinkets or tokens you may be wearing.”
Your hands were shaking when you let your dress slip to the floor, revealing your vulnerable form, your body betrays you with gooseflesh. Tears well up in your eyes, spilling over and cascading down your cheeks.
Natasha watched, sitting at the bed as you stripped the last piece of clothing out of your body.
Her cold, green orbs leisurely take in every inch of your bare flesh. They linger on the fullness of your breasts, the pebbled peaks begging for her touch. Her gaze trails down to the small, dark mole at the side of your breast, a unique birthmark that she commits to memory.
Her eyes continue their languid descent, taking in the slight roundness of your belly soon to be full of her seed, the flare of your hips, and the soft curls at the juncture of your thighs. She studies the glistening evidence of your fear and humiliation, the pink folds of your pussy already swollen and slick.
The shame of your nakedness burns through you like a physical touch, amplified by the fact that Natasha remains fully clothed. Her silken robes and velvet cloak seem to mock your naked form, the heavy golden brooch at her shoulder a stark reminder of the game is now holding place in her hands.
A cruel smile plays on Natasha’s lips as she sees the shame and fear in your eyes. She rises once more, her tall form towering over you. Her hands go to the sash at her waist, undoing it with deliberate slowness.
The silk slithers to the floor, pooling around her feet. She begins to slowly unlace her leather breeches, her gaze locked with yours. As the garment falls away, revealing her hardened cock, you can't help but gulp, your eyes wide with trepidation.
She stepped closer to you, caressing your cheek. You didn't know why but you leaned in to her touch as she wiped the tears off your face. She looked at your glossy eyes before she leaned forward, her lips pressing against yours in a soft, yet commanding kiss. Your lips part instinctively, allowing her to sweep her tongue inside, claiming your mouth as hers.
“Open wider,” she demands, breaking the kiss to gaze down at you. She tilts your head back further, forcing your mouth open wider. She kisses you again, this time her tongue probing deeper, exploring the warmth of your mouth. She sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth and biting down gently.
Your breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping your throat as her kiss becomes more intense. Her hands tangled in your hair and you can't help but moan softly, the sound muffled against her lips.
Natasha broke the kiss and sees the raw innocence in your eyes, the moisture making them glisten like jewels. Your lips are swollen and parted, a thin string of saliva stretching between them, quivering as you suck in ragged breaths. Her gaze darkens with lust and satisfaction.
“My bed has been lacking...heat,” she murmurs, her voice low and gravelly. She reaches out, wiping the saliva from your chin with her thumb. “And you, my sweet, are going to warm it tonight.”
You took a step backwards and tilt your head to the side to avoid her touch.
“You make it difficult,” she says, her voice tight with frustration, “to fulfill the one duty that should be simple. I have conquered cities, bent knees to mine, tamed dragons...And yet, you make it hard for me to plant my seed in your womb.”
“Am I just a bearer of your offspring?” You pinched your brows together, finally eyeing the King as the tears cascaded down your face.
“Yes,” she replied bluntly, undressing herself, “in this, you are.” As her clothing falls away, revealing her breasts and her tanned, muscular body, she meets your gaze squarely. “But know this, my sweet, you are not just any bearer.”
“You are my Queen—my own wife who dared to deceive and defy me,” she says as she steps forward, her eyes roaming over your body hungrily. “And when I have won, when you carry my child, you will be the mother of my heir.”
“And perhaps,” she says, her voice dropping to a near whisper as she leans over you, “when this is done, when my line is secured, you will be something more.” Her gaze holds yours captive. “But for tonight, you are simply the woman I must breed.”
Your heart shatters in your chest as she speaks those words. The cold, hard truth of her intent cuts deep, each word a knife twisting in your soul. You are not her beloved, her equal, but a tool, a vessel to bear her child and you knew it from the beginning.
Without you carrying her offspring, you are nothing.
Natasha then grabs you roughly, flipping you around and throwing you onto the bed. She climbs over you, positioning herself behind your ass.
With a sudden, brutal motion, she thrusts herself inside you, ignoring your cries of pain as she tears through your resisting body. She groans in satisfaction, her hands gripping your hips as she begins to rut into you with merciless force, her dragon's strength overpowering any objections you might have.
“You are mine now,” she growls, her breath hot against your ear. “No more defiance, no more resistance. You will bear my child, as is your purpose.” Each word is punctuated by a hard thrust, her hips slamming against your ass cheek with brutal intensity.
She pulls out of you suddenly, her thick cock glistening with your virgin blood. Natasha flips you over, pushing your hips in the bed. Her body pressed heavily against yours as she positioned herself between your legs. Without warning, she slams back into you, her dragon-sized cock splitting you open.
You're screaming now, your voice echoing off the walls as she fucks you with brutal, animalistic intensity.
She moves to silence your screams and releases your mouth long enough to trail her lips down your body, pausing to suckle at each breast roughly, her teeth scraping against your sensitive nipples.
“You are so tight around me, Y/N,” she groans, her voice low and possessive. “Your body was made just for my pleasure. Your virgin hole is so snug, clasping around me like a glove. You were made to be filled by me, to bear my children.”
Her hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, allowing her to bury herself deeper. As she grinds her hips against yours, she leaned down and your hands immediately claw at her back, your fingernails digging into her skin.
Her muscled back flexes under your desperate, clawing hands. You feel each ridge of muscle, the hard strength of her. Despite the pain she's causing, despite the brutal taking, your body responds to her, your core clenching around her cock as you feel her powerful body move against yours.
“Y-your…Grace…” you called out for her, mouth open as she tore you apart. You held her neck and the silver locks of her hair, your legs crossed at her waist.
“You’re my Queen.” She growled in your ear.
“Yes, your Grace!” You cried out in pain and pleasure.
“Then you will take what I give you, you will be painted with my seed and soon enough you’ll bear my heir.”
Her words made your pussy clench even tighter around her massive cock. She feels it, her thrusts becoming even more powerful as she drives her seed deep into your womb.
She straightens up, her hands gripping your hips as she slams into you one final time. Her body stiffens, her head thrown back in a silent roar as she finds her release. She grinds her hips against yours, ensuring every drop is deep inside you.
Natasha pulls out of you slowly, her eyes locked onto your well-stretched opening. She watches as her seed begins to leak out mixing with your virgin blood, a possessive growl rumbling in her chest. Without hesitation, she pushes the escaping seed back inside with her slender fingers.
“My seed stays inside you,” she continues to push her fingers inside you, scooping up her own seed and forcing it back into your walls, making sure it's as deep inside you as possible. She repeats this process several times, her fingers pumping in and out of you as she ensures her claim is secure.
The sensation of her fingers pushing into you, combined with the gentle throbbing from her earlier pumps, becomes too much to bear. You can feel yourself growing more and more sensitive, the line between pleasure and pain blurring. You moan, your voice barely a whisper.
“Your Grace...it's too much…”
She ignores your plea, her voice dark as she murmurs, “It’s Natasha for you, my sweet.” Her fingers continue to push into your overstimulated hole, the motion causing you to convulse around her.
“Natasha…” you stammer, her name tumbling from your lips like a prayer as the intense sensation consumes you. Her name on your lips, filled with such raw emotion, makes her own stomach flutter.
You convulse violently, your body shaking uncontrollably as a gush of liquid spurts out from between your thighs. Natasha muffles her approval against your neck, her voice thick with satisfaction as she feels the evidence of your spend.
“Say it again,” she demands, her fingers continuing to pump into you as the aftershocks wrack your body. “Say my name like that again, Y/N.” Her own control is slipping, your words affecting Natasha more than she’d like to admit. You whimper, your voice hoarse.
"N-Natasha...Natasha...only...only you…” Each word is punctuated by a sharp breath as your body continues to spasm around her fingers. She lets out a low groan, her head dropping to your shoulder as she listens to you beg for her alone.
“You’re so good for me,” she praises, her voice rough with desire. She withdraws her fingers from your dripping pussy, bringing them to her mouth to clean them with a hungry suckle. Her eyes never leaving yours as she does so, drinking in the sight of her Queen overcome with pleasure.
“From now on, you will sleep in this same bed as mine so I can ensure that you remain well-bred every night.”
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rose-maidenn · 1 month
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Astro observations 1
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Tropical + Sidereal
Tropical
If you have mercury sextile venus as a women your voice gives you an upper hand in your career , example Sofia Vergara being famous for her acting as well as her unique voice , lana del rey for her vocal range , Rihanna , Kim Kardashian memes lol .
If as a man you have mercury sextile venus it shows up as an upper hand in your thoughts and creativity , often times men with this placement are very soft spoken and understanding , in a dark way they could be manipulative as well . They mostly create a world of wonders for themselves and have distinct contributions towards art or way of life . Eg : Walt Disney , Ewan Mcgregor in big fish
Scorpio men give high school bad boy vibes , their upper body might be larger then their lower body , fellas don't skip leg day
Wanna start content creation or wanna be a singer , check your moon sign , a popstar might become popular based on the emphasis on either vocal range, lyricism, performance (credits to the instagram reel i watched lol i lost the link ) eg : scorpio women embody the performer persona most strongly , for example: Beyonce , Miley Cyrus , Lady gaga etc (vedic - Vishakha)
Cancer sun women mostly embody the trashy girl aesthetic.
Though widely considered meek , the cancer sun embodies a badass feministic yet kind vibe to them eg : Princess Diana , Selena Gomez , MIA, Frida Kahlo , often turn out to be revolutionaries and make changes in their own fields .
Pluto in the 5th is an amazing placement for fashion designers or in the field of marketing in the field , eg: Coco chanel , Miuccia Prada , Donatella Versace etc . 5th is the house of creativity and pluto being in it bring something out of the ordinary to make the person famous.
Pluto in 5th might also suffer from a turbulent childhood often with home relocation or absent parents
Mercury in 9th might be forced to grow up earlier , these people embody wisdom beyond years, often time resulting in void eg : Drew Barrymore, Mila Kunis lying about her age to get roles , Brooke shields .
Mercury in 9th is also a good placement for writers, eg : Sylvia plath , Agatha Christie, Emily Bronte .
Sidereal
Purva Bhadrapada women are very activist and stand for what they believe in , they make really good points in an debate👏
Punarvasu sun will give you fuller lips . Mostly downturned
Gemini men often have a wild chemistry with Sagittarius men 😭😂 the gemini man either admires the Sagittarius or hates them , like a frenemy vibe .
Libra men have the rake energy they flirt with everyone but they also make you feel like you're the only girl 😭 tf
Moon conjunct Saturn is said to give a bad relationship with mother but I have observed that if it is in the 12 th house it actually gives a good relationship, as there's more understanding .
As a jupiterian myself I won't advise to dye your hair blonde if you have prominent jupiter ,it makes me even more delusional. I would recommend brown for grounding and inviting creativity in your life .
Idk mars dom men are too good to me I like them so much, I've seen that in other cases as well so I will say jup dom 🤝 mars dom.
Rahu doms are underdogs yall , mostly people underestimate them until one day they put all their energy into something and prove themselves .
Uttara Ashadha girls act as they're stupid but they're observing so much , they might have really captivating eyes , puppy eyes if I say .
If two people have asc-moon synastry , they love each other and loathe each other because of their similarities , their is also a tendency of copying the others gestures or fashion .
Ketu doms push people away and then say they're lonely , it takes a lot to understand the inner rich world of ketu doms , which I think venus doms get to a degree.
Rohini people have a certain liking towards the metal of gold , and it will bring you auspiciousness if you buy them gold.
That's all for today hope yall enjoyed , I think you can read both observations interchangeably hehe I tried a new format hope yall like it . Dm me if you want to book a chart reading or an astrology reading 🫶
Thank you for reading
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jeneveuxrein · 10 months
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safety net [2/2] (BLACKPINK Rosé)
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word count: 25.8K
part 1 (14.8K) | part 2 (11K)
(yeah, lol)
Self-loathing has always been something you’ve done. It was likely the result of never being good enough for your parents even when you delivered on every single expectation they’ve had for you. 
At this current point in your life, you hate yourself for the situation you blindly agreed to. 
It’s been about a month since Rosie disturbed your peace in the library, asking if you’d teach her how to have sex, which translates into having sex with her. 
You haven’t had sex yet, but you’ve done everything else a lot. Rosie has been eager to finally do it, but there’s something that always stops you. She gets frustrated, but you eat her out, quickly bringing her to an orgasm, and all is forgotten until next time. You sense her getting impatient, but you’re scared that once you finally do, that’ll be it. 
And it’s been nice spending all this time with her. You see her pretty much every day. The only times you don’t is if she has to finish a project or if she has a date with Soohyun. When it’s the latter, you get all broody, but your mood immediately changes when she messages you as soon as she’s home. 
Rosie doesn’t tell you much about the dates unless you ask. She has shared that they’ve exchanged a couple kisses here and there, but she often compares Soohyun to you—too much teeth, too aggressive, too… everything she’s not used to. It goes straight to your ego because how could it not. 
The physical aspect of your relationship aside, you two are actually getting along. You still bicker, but it doesn’t end with her yelling anymore. 
Rosie’s a catch, which is understandable based on the amount of people that want to be with her. She’s funny. She’s kind. She’s driven. She’s sometimes in her own world, that you often get lost with her when she rambles on about her day. She’s someone you could see yourself with if it was under different circumstances. 
You hear your name being called, breaking you out of your thoughts as you stare at your computer screen. You see Rosie approaching you with Jisoo, waving as the other woman looks bored already. 
“Hey Rosie,” You greet affectionately. “Jisoo.” 
Jisoo gives you a wave, smiling, as Rosie walks behind your chair. 
“Whatcha working on?” Rosie peeks over your shoulder. 
It’s an expense report that your father sent you to look over, but you’ve been swamped with exams coming up. 
“Just work stuff,” You answer, stretching your arms and letting out a yawn. “Are you done with your project?” 
“Yeah, Jisoo and I were going to grab dinner but I wanted to find you before we left,” Rosie ruffles your hair. “I’ll come by after though?” 
Jisoo makes a gagging sound, earning a glare from the woman behind you. 
“Sure, I’ll be home around 8. I have a game today,” You inform her, checking the time. 
“Oh what? You should’ve told me, I would’ve came,” Rosie sounds disappointed. 
“It’s alright, I probably won’t play that much anyways,” You send her an easy smile. “I’ll see you later.” 
Rosie nods, blowing you a kiss that has you blushing while Jisoo makes the sound again. She grunts when Rosie hits her arm, a quick bye before getting dragged away. 
You watch their figures get smaller, suddenly missing Rosie that you can’t focus anymore on work. You sigh, shaking your head, deciding that you’ll just shoot around before your game. 
--
“Why,” Rosie tears her lips away from yours, tilting her head back that you attack her neck. “Won’t you have sex with me?” She pants when you suck on her skin, careful to not leave a mark because he might see it. 
“Are you in a rush?” You murmur, hand sneaking underneath her blouse to palm her breast. 
“Well—no,” She gasps when you gently pinch her nipple. “I just think I’m ready. We’ve done a lot and I—fuck.”
“You what?” You continue your ministrations on her chest, massaging each breast with equal attention. 
“I’ve been thinking about how you’d feel inside me,” You stop and she squirms underneath you. 
If you weren’t hard enough before, you’re about ready to bust through your briefs. 
You pull back, staring at her. Your mind’s going a mile a minute because you weren’t expecting to actually follow through tonight. 
“I want this with you,” Rosie whispers, sitting up slightly to kiss you on the lips. “If anything hurts, I’ll tell you.” 
Fuck fuck okay. It’s go time and you couldn’t talk yourself out of this. 
“Okay,” You nod, kissing her forehead. “Are you sure?” You have to ask one more time. 
“Yes,” Rosie tugs her blouse over her head, leaving her completely nude. “You’re overthinking this.” 
You are, but for reasons she doesn’t know. You don’t even know yourself. You’re acting as if it’s your first time. 
“Kiss me,” And you do, resting your weight on top of her. 
It’s slow and sensual, her lips soft on your as you trail your hand between her legs. You swipe a finger in between her folds to check and she’s wet. She moans at the contact, rolling her hips for more contact. You repeat the movement just to be sure. You’ve been told that you’re above average in the size department, and you don’t want her to be in any pain. 
Rosie gets impatient, tugging your waistband down to free your cock. You groan when her hand wraps around you, stroking you gently as you kick the material off. 
When you deem her wet enough, you meet her hand with yours, guiding your cock in between her lips. Your body screams at you to enter her, but instead with your control quickly slipping, you run your length in between, moaning at the first contact of her pussy. 
“Stop teasing,” Rosie pants, body trembling beneath you as you rock your hips. 
“I’m sorry,” You’re really not. You don’t know what comes over you, but you lean back, spreading her legs wider as you grip your cock, spreading the precum over. “I need to get a condom.” You reach over to your nightstand, but she stops you. 
“Have you had sex with anyone since?”
“No,” You’ve been too wrapped up in her that any woman that you’ve seen at a party or hooked up with previously hasn’t been on your mind. 
“Then no condom, I’m on the pill,” Rosie says softly. 
You stare at her for a moment, heart pounding against your chest at what she’s offering. Rationale goes out the window because even though you’ve had a condom rule for the past year, you’d love to feel her without one. 
“Trust me?” Rosie bites her lip, nodding, eyes locked at your cock as you rest the head at her entrance. “Tell me if it’s too much.” 
You take a breath, more for your sake, as your cock slowly enters her. Her hands shoot to your hip, stopping your movement instantly. 
You’ve barely made any headway, but from what you’re feeling so far is too much for you to handle. She’s warm, wet, and tight as her body tenses at the intrusion. You keep reminding yourself to go slow because this is still her first time and going at the pace your body is telling you to would not be fair to her. 
“Holy shit,” Rosie gasps as her hands move to grip your arms. “Keep going,” She breathes slowly, catching her breath as you press your hips slightly forward. 
Her heat envelops you, applying a delicious pressure the deeper you go. You glance down at where your bodies are joined and you’re barely halfway there. 
What you want to do is snap your hips forward, completely, but you’re aware of Rosie’s breathing and expressions for any signs of discomfort. 
Though that awareness is quickly getting lost. 
“Are you all the way?” Rosie asks weakly, eyes scrunched closed. 
“Uh, almost?” You’re able to say as you gently rock back and forth to get your cock inside more. “How are you feeling?” 
“It’s—fuck—not bad, but there’s just a lot of pressure,” Rosie breathes out. 
Tell me about it. 
You distract her by kissing her all over, keeping your rhythm as her body relaxes to take more of you in. Her nails scratch at your arms, but you’d take a little bit of pain any day. 
You don’t realize it, but in no time, you’re fully sheathed by her heat, letting out a whimper when you see your cock disappear inside her. 
“You doing okay?” You grunt, burying your face into her neck to keep yourself from cumming right then and there. 
“Yeah,” Rosie sighs, experimenting by squeezing her inner walls around you. 
“You’re so hot,” You murmur, trailing kisses along her neck. “Your pussy feels so good around me, you’re taking me so well.” Her body responds to your words—interesting—as she spreads her legs wider to take you in. “You like hearing how you make me feel, huh?” Rosie can only nod, tipping her head back.
You lean back, slowly pulling your hips back, and watch, entranced, as your cock slides out. It’s covered in her slick, and you’ve never seen anything hotter. You let out a sigh as you feel her contract around the tip. She moans and something snaps inside you that you suddenly thrust back in. 
Rosie screams at the pressure, letting out a filthy moan that has you groaning. Your body moves on its own accord, slowly pumping your cock in and out of her pussy that has you seeing stars. 
“Fuck, baby,” She moans, pants, as she starts to babble nonsense as her walls accommodate to your girth. “You feel so good.”
You try not to pay attention to the pet name, but it only spurs you on more.
Her walls rhythmically squeeze every time you bottom out. It doesn’t stop you. It makes you chase the feeling, an addiction that you wouldn’t mind having. 
You lose yourself in her body, watching her bite her lip and lose her breath as she grabs onto the sheets. Hearing your name fall from her lips wakes something up in you.The sounds she makes drive you to thrust into her, and when you hit a certain spot inside, she demands you don’t stop. You don’t break rhythm as she squirms. You grab her hips, letting out groans of your own as you feel your orgasm coming. 
“Chaeng,” Your hips falter as her pussy contracts after a particularly hard thrust, “I’m gonna cum.” 
“Inside,” Rosie locks eyes with you, “Cum inside me.” 
Your resolve snaps as you thrust wildly into her, chasing your orgasm as you feel the start of hers, walls squeezing your cocks so tightly you feel lightheaded. You feel her nails digging into your skin, holding onto like her life depends on it.
“Yes, yes,” Rosie chants like a song as her head snaps back, showing her neck as her body is wracked with pleasure.
Cum shoots from your cock inside her, painting her inner walls white, groaning as you rut into her. Your brain shuts off as you fall on top of her. She doesn’t seem to mind as she wraps her arms around you, placing soft kisses all over your face. You hear a contented sigh from her as you gasp for air. 
When you come to your senses, you automatically kiss Rosie on the lips—a simple, sweet one—as you catch her breath against your lips. She tries to deepen it, but you pull away, smiling softly as you fully take her in. Your heart has never felt so loud. 
“Hi,” You say quietly. 
“Hey yourself,” Rosie returns your smile. 
“You okay?” You glance down where you’re still connecting, hoping—praying—you weren’t too rough. 
“A little sore, but never better.” 
“ I wasn’t too rough right?”
“Nope,” Rosie shakes her head. 
You gently pull out, watching her face wince, but she lets out a quiet moan when your softened cock brushes against her clit. 
“Sorry!” You rush out, falling next to her as she chuckles. 
“Stop,” Rosie lightly slaps your arm, bringing it to rest on her stomach. 
“Sorry,” You mumble again. 
“I feel it leaking,” Rosie states simply, sitting up to look in between her legs. You join her and see a dribble of your cum peak through her folds. “That’s kind of hot.”
“Chaeng,” You groan, the image of what’s between her legs etched in your mind forever. 
“It is,” Rosie nudges your shoulder, laughing. “I’m exhausted. I hope I’m not too sore tomorrow, I have to carry a bunch of things to the studio.”
“I’ll help you.”
“Like actually?” Rosie sinks back into the pillow, turning to face you. 
You nod. 
“You don’t even have classes tomorrow?” 
“I know, but I’ll take you to school with all your stuff,” You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t help her, knowing that she’ll likely be sore because of you. That wouldn’t sit well with you. 
Rosie kisses you on the cheek, smiling before snuggling into you. It all feels very relationship-y, spiking your anxiety because you’re more attached to her than you ever intended. 
And that scares you the most. 
--
“Thanks Eunbi,” You send a grateful smile to the girl sitting across from you as you’re finishing up the group project that completely slipped your mind. 
“It’s fine oppa,” Eunbi laughs. “It’s a low-stakes project anyways.”
“Still,” You roll your eyes, annoyed with yourself more than anything. “I would’ve literally forgotten about it if you didn’t say anything.” 
You and Eunbi were assigned as partners for a project that wasn’t worth much towards your grade, but it was supposed to help with the semester project that was worth your entire grade. Eunbi was someone you interacted with frequently, sharing the same classes, but spending the past couple days with her has kept your mind off a certain someone (who you’ve been actively avoiding for the past few days)z
The day after you and Rosie had sex, you did drop her off at school, carrying all her things to the studio so she wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Naturally, people saw you together, creating a small rumor about you dating. It freaked you out because everyone is aware of her and Soohyun that you needed to distance yourself from her. 
Of course, without her realizing what you’re doing. But Rosie was perceptive, so sooner or later, she’ll confront you. 
“Are you doing anything right now?” Eunbi asks after she finished packing her belongings. 
“Uh no?” 
“Did you want to get dinner?” 
“Sure why not,” You shrug because you’re not doing anything wrong, but why did you suddenly feel a weight on your shoulders? 
Eunbi smiles, and she’s pretty. She knows it too, but she doesn’t let that get to her head. She is someone you haven’t gone out with or slept with, so it couldn’t hurt to spend a little bit more time with her outside of school work. 
Right?
Wrong. 
The universe has a funny way of making things happen. 
As you’re exiting the library, Rosie’s outside. You try to avoid her, but she looks up at the right moment, eyes narrowing, and stomps her way over to you. 
“Seriously?” Is all she says, glancing behind you to see who you’re with. 
“What?” Your wall’s up, especially with people passing by. You pray to a higher being that she doesn’t make a scene. 
“You know what,” Rosie huffs, crossing her arms. 
“Uh, oppa,” Eunbi says before you could respond to the woman seething in front of you. “We can have dinner another time.” 
You turn your head, and Eunbi has an understanding smile on her face, nodding encouragingly while you feel the metaphorical daggers stabbing the side of your face. 
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you around okay?” Eunbi’s eyes crinkle, nodding politely at Rosie before walking away. 
Once Eunbi’s a good few meters away, Rosie tugs on your arm, “Seriously, what the fuck? You’ve been avoiding me.” 
Okay so maybe you haven’t been handling this the best. You’ve intentionally missed her phone calls and blatantly ignored her messages. You don’t know if it’s because of how you feel towards her, which you’re still trying to figure out, or if it’s because you thought that it was a one-time thing. 
“Can we not do this here?” You offer weakly, and her jaw noticeably clenches. 
“Fine,” Rosie relents, shaking her head, cursing you under her breath before walking towards the parking lot.
--
You’re sitting on the couch, watching Rosie pace back and forth across your living room. She didn’t say much to you on the car ride over except that she was playing music. She grunted a thanks when you opened the door for her, opting to change into more comfortable clothes, leaving her some on your bed in case she wanted to change. 
Other than that, she hasn’t said anything else. 
“Did you want me to cook something?”
No response, the sound of Rosie’s feet continues to shuffle on the hardwood. 
“You know,” Rosie stops in front of the window, back towards you as she looks out at the night city skyline, “I spent the last three days wracking my brain over why you weren’t talking to me.” 
“I can–” Rosie shakes her head, prompting you to not say anything more. 
“I thought everything between us was going well. Yeah we still bicker, but we aren’t arguing like we used to. We had sex. I thought it was great aside from the expected soreness, but then you just ghost me,” Thankfully she doesn’t see you wince. “I was like there’s no way he’s going to treat me like I’m one of his usual fucks, right? He has to have more respect for me.” Rosie turns around, eyes narrowed as she walks towards you. 
“Rosie–”
“I thought about it more and I even talked about it with Lisa and Jennie because I needed someone, anyone really, to make sure I wasn’t going crazy,” Rosie stands in between your legs, crossing her arms. “Lisa being Lisa said that I was overthinking it too much, but do you want to know what Jennie said?” 
“What?” You gulp, gaze locked on hers. 
“Since you and Jennie had a fling, or whatever,” You detect something off in her tone when she says that, but if you point it out, she’ll yell at you. “She said that maybe you had feelings for me.”
Fucking Jennie. 
“I called it absurd because it’s you and me. We set the rules, which for what it’s worth, we broke a couple of them, but that’s the one we absolutely couldn’t break,” Rosie’s eyes narrow, searching your face for truth. You hoped you weren’t giving anything away, but you weren’t too sure. 
Sentences weren’t forming under her intense gaze, so you could only nod. 
“I have to ask, do you have feelings for me?” Rosie asks point blank. 
Yes is the short answer. 
The long answer is much more complicated for you to put into words because you’re admitting to yourself that you do, and that’s what’s fucking you up more. 
“No.”
“No? Then why were you avoiding me? I called. I texted. I had half the mind of just coming over here to curse you out, but Jennie stopped me,” Her shoulders drop, defeated, as the hurt breaks through her façade. 
“I figured you were done with me,” You say softly. 
“Why would you think that?” Rosie kneels in between your legs, resting her hands on your thighs. Your brain short circuits because it’s a very familiar position that your body has become very conditioned to. 
“We had sex, isn’t that what you wanted? To just get it over with?” 
“Well yeah,” Rosie folds her arms, cradling her face in her hands as she stares at you. “But I still want to do more things with you. Soohyun and I have gone on a few dates, but we aren’t anything official.” 
“When he asks you out, that’s when this,” You gesture between your bodies, “Will be over?” 
Rosie nods, “It would make the most sense right? I would be cheating on him if we continued doing things and I called him my boyfriend.”
It stings to hear that more than you thought it would, but you swallow that, pushing it deep down. 
“That’s true. You’ll tell me when that happens?” You ask. You need to prepare yourself for a heartbreak you weren’t expecting. 
“You’ll be the first to know when he asks me out,” Rosie moves, straddling your lap. “But for now, I want to do things with you,” She grounds her hips down, showing you exactly what she wants to do. 
“Yeah?” Your cock starts to awaken, hardening as your hands grip her thighs. “Like what?” 
“Ride you,” Rosie brings her lips to yours, murmuring, “I’m not sore anymore.” 
You groan, mind clouded with her body bouncing on your cock—a very imminent reality as she pulls her top over her head, leaving her completely nude from the waist up.
“Go ahead, Chaeng,” You whisper against her lips, letting her take control of the night. 
And you know you’ll be absolutely fucked out by the end of it. 
--
--
Your hand contacts the flesh of her thigh, a loud smack rings through your room. 
“Fuck baby,” Rosie moans loudly, rolling her hips back, trying to get your cock where she needs you most. 
“Do you deserve it?” You bend forward, kissing her neck sweetly. 
“Yes,” She pants, nodding obediently, squirming in your grip as she continues her movement, brushing your cock in between her lower lips. 
Another loud smack echoes as Rosie nearly screams when you aim your cock at her opening, entering her in one swift thrust.
“Good girl,” You whisper, leaning back before watching your cock pull out just enough where your tip stays within her warmth. 
“Please,” Rosie turns her head around, biting her lip, nodding that she’s more than okay. You feel her walls contract on your tip, a groan falling from your lips before you thrust back in. 
You start off slow, wanting to savor this because whether Rosie knows it or not, this is the last time for this to happen. 
Another month has gone by and Soohyun still hasn’t asked her out. Everyone knows they’re an item, but it hasn’t happened—yet. 
Though everyone—besides her friends—doesn’t know that you fuck her every time after their dates. 
The universe still never works in your favor, so you just happened to be in line to get coffee behind Soohyun and one of his friends before you had class. They spoke loud enough for you to hear his friend ask Soohyun when he was going to ask Rosie to be his girlfriend officially. Curiosity got the best of you, and when Soohyun said tomorrow after dinner, you knew you had to see her tonight. 
It wasn’t out of the routine for you to see Rosie after school, but it was out of the routine for you to ask. You hardly initiated it because you didn’t want to assume, but the few times you did, it was because of your parents’ pressuring you to join them on an overseas trip to Japan to meet with the Nakamuras. You were overly stressed out and Rosie conditioned you to go to her to release any frustrations you had. 
Was she surprised when you walked up to her in front of her roommates? No, because you were friends with them too. Was she surprised when you asked if she wanted to come over tonight? You weren’t sure, but you saw her head tilt, questioning before answering sure. You ignored the smirks that formed on their faces. 
Rosie knew something was up the moment you pushed her against the front door as soon as it shut, dragging your lips across her neck. 
“Everything okay?” Rosie asked in between breaths, letting out a squeak when you grabbed one of her legs, wrapping it around your waist. 
“Yeah,” You answered, ignoring your thoughts as you grounded your hips over hers. 
She didn’t ask anything else, moaning softly as you sucked on her collarbone, lifting her other leg to carry her to your room.
Rosie’s inner walls tighten along your cock on every pull out, and she moans, chest heaving as she takes your cock. Her body quivers in your hands as you saw yourself in and out, in and out. 
“Baby,” The pet name falls from her lips. She only calls you it when your balls deep in her, and it spurs you on every single time. “You feel so good.”
“You’re a good girl,” You murmured, pressing your chest against her back. You stop your movements, leaving your length fully sheathed inside, “Show me what good girls do.”
Rosie lets out a small whine, squirming as she moves her body along your cock. Her hips gyrating on yours has you seeing stars, moaning in her ear. Her pussy tightens, rubbing itself over and over, and you scoff, knowing she found the special spot inside of her. 
One hand slaps her ass, and she stops. 
You’ve learned a lot about Rosie this past month. She may mouth off at you a lot in public, but behind closed doors, she’s obedient as ever, tapping into a side of you you hadn’t been since Nayeon. You both soon realized, after a particularly long night together, that it was something you both enjoyed with each other. Whenever she was particularly bratty, especially with her friends there, it would rile you up a lot. 
“Good girls don’t cum first,” You say flatly. “Guess we stop now.” You slowly pull out before her hand reaches for yours, stopping your exit. 
“No no no,” Rosie whines, vigorously shaking her head. “I’m sorry, you just feel too good.”
“Selfish,” You click your tongue, shaking your head. 
“Baby please,” Rosie begs. She squeezes her inner walls on what’s remaining inside her, a dangerous trick she learned quickly, that has you groaning, slipping your length back inside. “Oh shit,” She moans at being filled.
“Fuck fine,” You relent, but you had other plans for her. You stand upright. You reach for her long blonde hair, tugging with enough force to pull her back against your chest. “But I’m fucking your pussy. This,” You snap your hips against hers, “Is mine. Right?”
Eyes widening, Rosie nods enthusiastically, “Yes baby yes.” 
“Mine?” You snap your hips again, watching her breasts bounce. 
“Yes,” She moans. 
“Say it.” 
Her hand turns your head towards her, bringing you in for a lustful kiss, tongues dancing as she moans, yours, into your mouth. 
You suddenly drop the grip on her hair, her body falling onto the bed, taking you with her. You fall on top of her prone form and start hammering into her pussy. 
You hope her screaming doesn’t get you a noise complaint, but if it does, you don’t give a flying fuck. Especially with the pressure her pussy is, squeezing your cock for all you have. 
“Fuck you’re so good,” Rosie bites into her lip, eyes rolling back as she grips the sheets, crumpling in her hand. “So fucking good,” She repeats in between moans.
“You’re being good for me,” Her pussy tightens at the praise. “Keep being good for me.”
Your hands grip her ass, drilling your cock into her, and something snaps inside of you when she screams. 
“Fuck this pussy’s mine,” You groan against her tangled hair. 
“Yours, yours, yours—oh fuck,” Rosie chants, eyes shooting open as her orgasm surprises you both. 
You feel your cock get pushed out as Rosie begins to squirt against your body, and she fucking gushes.
You’ve never made a girl squirt before, and Rosie has never had such a bodily reaction. You feel a streak of possessiveness rolls through your body. You shove your cock through her wetness, and you feel another rush of liquid as you wildly thrust in and out of her body.
“Fuck Chaeng,” You moan, your mind screaming mine mine, as your orgasm hits, shooting your load deep inside her. It must’ve triggered another orgasm because her pussy tightens again, knocking the air from your lungs, as your hips stutter erratically. 
“Jesus fuck,” Rosie pants from underneath you, her body still quivering from her orgasm. Your chest heaves, hands slipping underneath her waist to hold her tightly. “That was…I don’t even know.”
“Yeah,” You grunt, kissing her hair before gently pulling your cock out. You don’t know either because you’ve taken Rosie roughly before, but never like this. She lets out a quiet moan, sighing, as you glance down to the mess between you. Quite a mess indeed. 
Your body collapses next to Rosie as exhaustion takes over, but she quickly snuggles into you, wrapping an arm over your back. 
“Are you okay?” Rosie mumbles into your ear, chin resting on your shoulder. 
“Are you?” You turn your head to face her. The guilt washing in after you realize how hard you were on her. 
“Well I know for a fact I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I’m great,” Rosie kisses your skin, mumbling out, “But seriously, are you okay?” 
“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask quietly. 
Rosie stares at you, peeking her head over to search for an answer you’re scared she’ll find. She looks beautiful, and you’d love to tell her, but with the way she’s looking at you, something else might slip out. 
“You called me mine,” Rosie says softly, bringing her fingers to comb through your hair. 
“Sorry,” You bury your face into your pillow, embarrassed. “Heat of the moment,” You lie, knowing damn well it wasn’t. 
“Don’t be shy,” Rosie scratches your head. “It was cute,” Giggling softly before adding, “Being yours sounds nice.”
--
You’re at a bar with a few of your friends—Jennie and Lisa included. It’s a normal night out with your friends to celebrate making it another week. You couldn’t really enjoy it like you normally would because you’ve been checking your phone every couple minutes, waiting for a message you know is coming your way. 
“Oppa, pay attention to us,” Lisa whines next to you as Jennie chuckles on her lap. 
“If you want to have a threesome, just ask,” That comment earns you a hard smack on the arm from Jennie, huffing in her now-girlfriend’s lap. 
“Oh fuck off,” Jennie spits out, muttering to Lisa about how much of an asshole you are and why she ever slept with you. 
You check your phone for any notifications and your heart drops when you see one from Rosie. You casually glance to make sure neither of the girls are peering over your shoulder, while you hear them talking to Ryujin on their other side. 
You take a breath, tapping the screen to read the message. 
Soohyun asked me to be his girlfriend. 
You already knew it was coming, so why did it still hurt?
You lock your phone, shaking your head, as you try to process your emotions. 
The time you’ve been spending with Rosie is over, and you couldn’t help but feel sad over it. It feels like when you and Nayeon broke up, but a thousand times worse. It’s not like you two were actually a couple, mere fuck buddies that spent hours together watching shows, eating out with, and a lot of other things in between. 
But then why does it feel like it was more than a fuck? 
You were aware that you were growing attached to Rosie, but you feigned it off that it was just because of how much you saw each other. She became part of your routine, that you couldn’t remember the time when she wasn’t. 
Your attachment clearly was more because you developed feelings, actual feelings that weren’t revolving around lust. So yeah, you like Rosie, hell, you may even be in love with her at this point, but you lost your shot. 
And there probably won’t ever be another. 
You groan, slamming your hand on the table loud enough that it jolts the girls next to you. 
“Oppa, what the fuck?” Jennie asks, concerned with your sudden outburst. 
“I gotta go,” Your voice cracks, walking away before you break down completely.
“Wait!” Lisa yells after you, spurring you to move quicker through the crowd. 
You turn your head before you exit, but you can’t pinpoint their face in the sea of people. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing you lost them, before the thought of Rosie seeps back into your mind. 
You need something—anything—to get your thoughts and feelings off of her. An idea quickly comes to you, one that you regret having, but it’s your only option. 
You pull your phone out, scrolling through your contact list before hitting call. 
The line rings once before a concerned voice answers. 
“Book me a flight to Osaka.”
--
--
It’s been two weeks since you received a message that shattered you. 
It’s also been two weeks since you left for Osaka abruptly, deciding to join your parents to meet with the Nakamuras for another business formality. 
Your parents were surprised that you wanted to join, especially since the last discussion you had with your father had your mother having to step in between before either of you slammed the other into the wall. Your father was excited the moment you showed up at your childhood home straight after the club while your mother looked concerned. She asked if everything was alright, but you brushed her off, not wanting to get into it with her. 
Regardless, they were still happy you joined them. Your father more so as he made the off comment that it would be good to spend some time with Kazuha. 
Which you did, and with Satoshi. 
You gave Kazuha the heads up that you’d be arriving with your parents. She was another person surprised, but she welcomed you nonetheless. You also met her boyfriend, who you quickly became close to, much to Kazuha’s dismay. She’d tell anyone that she was the third wheel by how much you and Satoshi spoke. 
It was only meant to be a weeklong trip, but Kazuha and Satoshi invited you to stay for their school break, to visit Tokyo and Hiroshima. You jumped at the opportunity. Anything that kept you away from seeing Rosie and Soohyun holding hands on campus was what you wanted. 
Satoshi brought his younger sister along too, Kasumi. You thought she was a bit of a hothead, but she was pretty and you were in another country trying to get over someone. 
When it came down to actually hooking up, you couldn’t. Your body physically shut down from anything you two alluded to. Making out had no effect on you. Her rubbing her hand over your crotch felt nice, but not enough for you to get hard. You felt bad, but you explained that you just couldn’t because you weren’t in the right headspace for it. You were so caught up in your feelings with Rosie that you couldn’t perform, no matter how much Kasumi was interested. 
She understood, chuckling because she figured there was someone else, but she thought you were cute so she wanted to at least try. There weren’t any hard feelings, leaving Japan with two great friends. And Kazuha too, you guess. 
You hear your mother call your name out from across the aisle, motioning for you to sit next to her as the plane starts its descent. 
“How are you doing?” Your mother asks once you buckle your seatbelt. 
“I’m fine,” An automated response whenever either of your parents ask, but the difference between them is that your mother has a tendency to prod. 
“How was Tokyo?” 
“It was fun. Kazuha and Satoshi took me around,” You answer vaguely, knowing that if you shared actual details about what you did, she would have a heart attack. 
“That’s great,” Your mother nods, smiling. “How’s Chaeyoung?” 
You freeze. You knew your mothers spoke often, but she had rarely ever asked you about her. 
“I saw Alice a few weeks ago as I was coming home. She mentioned you and Chaeyoung had been spending some time together,” Your mother continues, noticing your sudden apprehension. 
Oh. 
That’s news to you because you didn’t think Rosie mentioned you to Alice of all people. The siblings were close, like really close, so if she talked about you, it probably meant something. But you were trying to get over her, and thinking about what it could mean would drive you crazy. 
“Oh, uh, Rosie’s doing well. I think she’s going abroad for her internship this summer, she just has to decide where she wants to go,” You say. Rosie had been bouncing ideas off you since she heard back. You were there when she received a couple emails, watching her shock and excitement paint her face. She nearly ripped your clothes off when she got accepted into the one she really wanted. 
“Fashion right? Chaeyoung always had an eye for that,” Your mother answers pensively. 
You’re inclined to say something else, but another question is thrown your way before you could. 
“Are you two dating?” 
“Mother,” You roll your eyes. 
“That’s not a no,” She quips, chuckling at your expense. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. You’ve always been fond of her ever since you were kids. We, her mother and I, have talked about it before.”
“What’re you even talking about?” You sigh, shaking your head. This conversation has taken a turn for the worse. You thought your mother wanted you to marry Kazuha, but apparently, she has been talking to Rosie’s mother about you two for years. 
“You don’t remember? You used to come home frustrated with Rosie, whining and grumbling about why she wouldn’t talk to you,” Her words unlock a box you kept hidden away. “It wasn’t until you hit high school where you pretty much gave up trying to be her friend. Even at that point, Rosie would talk to you, or maybe more antagonize you is a better description. You were beaming after those weekly dinners with the Parks.”
You didn’t comment as thoughts and feelings rushed to the surface. 
“Regardless, we thought you two would date at some point,” Your mother shrugged as if what she just said had no impact on you. 
Your mother doesn’t say anything else, opening one of her latest novels, signaling that the conversation is over. 
It really didn’t matter how you felt before, but then why does it feel like it’s making it a hundred times harder to get over her? 
--
You drop your duffel bag on the floor, kicking the door shut, as you’re finally home after two weeks. You plop your body on the couch, yawning from the flight. You have to go to campus tomorrow, which you weren’t entirely excited about. The chances of you seeing her were high, but you didn’t know what she was going to do. 
You’ve been avoiding all messages she sent you, which were a lot. She called you too, leaving a few voicemails that you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to. Kazuha caught you staring at your phone one night and made you promise not to open any messages that could derail your trip. It didn’t help Satoshi agreed, saying that it would be like a reset. 
You decide that now was the time to check them. 
Where are you? 
Can you answer the phone? 
I’m coming over. 
I’m outside, can you open the door? 
Fuck it, I know your code. 
Where the hell are you? 
Did you go to Osaka?
All those messages were from the day after Soohyun asked her to be his girlfriend. You saw she texted you everyday for a week asking if you could call her, but her last message broke you. 
I can only assume you went to Osaka. I hope everything’s okay. 
It takes everything in you to not reply now. If you do, you’d just be an asshole to her for no contact for two weeks. You’re an asshole either way, but it would rub salt in the wound. 
You check your other messages and see a few from Jennie, who rightfully curses you out for being a dick and to just respond so Rosie knows you're alive. Lisa sent one too, asking you where you are, but no threats. Jisoo’s message made you chuckle, a simple reply to her or else, was clear enough.
You sigh, locking your phone and tossing it on the coffee table. 
You’ll deal with everything tomorrow. 
--
The first person that approaches you on campus is Jennie. She shoves you, letting her when you know you could overpower her. 
“You’re a fucking ass,” Jennie pushes you again, enough force to lose your balance. 
“What did I do?” You stupidly ask, avoiding her piercing gaze. 
“You know what the hell you did, you better fucking talk to her,” Jennie says firmly, poking your shoulder. 
“If I see her,” You mumble, rubbing the spot. 
“You better,” You wait for her to say more, but the sound of her walking away brings your gaze to her retreating figure. 
Sighing as this isn’t how you want to start your day, you decide to be early for class.
The universe doesn’t even want you to be early because Nayeon stops you along the way.
“Hey I need a favor,” Nayeon asks, standing in front of you. 
“What?” You didn’t mean to sound irritated, but blame Jennie.
“Can you do this photoshoot for Mina and Sana? Their original photographer flaked, and they’re out of options,” Nayeon explains and you know she’s telling the truth. 
“Why me?” 
“I suggested you. I remember you taking photographs,” Nayeon smiles softly. “It’s a project that’s worth half their grade and their professor wants quality pictures.”
“What class is it for?” You prod, adding, “I’ve never done a modeling kind of shoot.”
“Their visual concepts class, I think. I don’t know. All I know is that they texted the group chat, stressing out,” Nayeon explains, shrugging since she was a film major. 
“Fine,” Nayeon claps happily, “Are you going to be there?” You had to ask, needing the time to mentally prepare yourself to spend, most likely, the whole day with her. 
“What? No,” Nayeon shakes her head. “I’ll be in Busan this weekend. Why did you want to hang out with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows. 
“Absolutely not,” You say firmly and her shoulders drop. 
“Fine whatever,” Nayeon huffs, hiking her bag on her shoulder. “Anyways, I’ll text you the details about it later. It’s tomorrow. I don’t think you need to bring anything, but bring your camera stuff just in case.” 
You nod, thinking about your schedule for tomorrow, which thankfully nothing was planned. 
“Oh,” Nayeon turns her head, adding one last detail before walking away, “Chaeyoung will be there too. She’s styling them.” 
Nayeon doesn’t wait for you to reply, leaving you speechless and even more irritated. 
Fucker. 
--
--
“Let’s take a break,” You announce after checking the shots you just took, satisfied with the outcome. “Fifteen?”
“Oh thank god,” Sana sinks to the ground as Mina chuckles next to her. “If we weren’t desperate, I wouldn’t have said yes.”
“Be thankful I care about this, or your project would be shit,” You answer, flicking through the pictures and thinking of how to change the lighting. 
“Thanks again for doing this, oppa,” Mina squeezes your arm before walking off to sit with Momo. 
You grumble a reply, turning without even thinking, and you accidentally bump into someone. 
“Shit sorry,” You look up to see Rosie five seconds away from losing the grip on the clothes she’s carrying. You immediately drop the camera against your chest, reaching for the items and taking it out of her hands. 
“It’s fine,” Rosie grabs the clothes back without another word, walking towards Mina. 
You sigh, shaking your head, trying not to lose focus on why you’re here. 
When you arrived this morning at one of the parks at the Han River, most of the crew was already present, setting up. You greeted everyone before seeing Rosie with Dahyun, discussing the outfits and concepts. 
“Hey good morning,” You greeted softly as you stood in front of them. 
Dahyun gave you a bright smile while Rosie forced hers, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. 
“Morning oppa!” Dahyun was as cheerful as ever at eight in the morning on a Saturday. “You could use the school’s equipment if you want,” She nods towards the table with the camera and lenses, “But feel free to use yours, whichever you feel comfortable with.” 
Another woman walked up to Dahyun, asking her to come with her to make sure they were correctly set up. Dahyun excused herself, leaving you alone with Rosie. 
“Chaeng—”
“Now you want to talk?” Rosie’s words cut sharply. “I don’t have anything to say to you right now, can we just get through today?” 
“Okay,” Was all you could say, nodding. You knew she had a lot to say, but neither of you could exactly hash it out with all these people around. 
“Okay,” Rosie nodded, grabbing whatever was near her, and walked away. 
Once Sana and Mina arrived, you quickly switched gears. You pushed whatever thoughts and feelings you had for Rosie aside, and went straight into work mode. 
You had zero experience taking photographs like this. Sure you’ve taken photos of your friends, and Nayeon would force you to take pictures of her whenever you went out. The last person you took a photo of was Rosie when you walked through the streets of Myeongdong a few weeks back. 
That was about as close as you got to taking pictures of people, but working like this was exhilarating.
You and Rosie worked well together too. It made you a lot more comfortable with directing with how seamlessly it went. You asked her opinion on what lighting should be used and she gave feedback that had the shots coming out great. Other than suggestions, your conversations had been minimal.
“You know,” Sana joins you in the empty seat next to you as you sift through the photos on the laptop, “You’re an asshole right?” 
“Okay what the fuck,” You break your attention away from the screen to a smirk on Sana’s face. 
“Chaeyoung-ah talks to us, and she sort of filled us in about this guy, who wasn’t Soohyun, that she had been seeing,” Sana sinks into the chair, glancing at the picture of her and Mina on the screen. “It wasn’t really hard to put two and two together about who she was referring to, and Nayeon confirmed something was going on between you.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You brush the woman off, rolling your eyes as you delete one of the blurry shots. 
“Sure you don’t,” Sana chuckles, “But regardless of whatever was going on between you two, you should know—if you don’t already—Rosie didn’t say yes to Soohyun when he asked her out.”
You don’t let her words faze you as you continue to delete shots you don’t deem worthy. 
“One could only wonder right?” Sana goes on, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “Soohyun’s a good-looking guy, nice enough, and spent a fair amount of time courting her, just for him to be rejected.”
“What are you getting at Sana?” You stop what you were doing, turning to face her. 
“Just wanted to figure out why Rosie said no,” Sana shrugs as Dahyun passes by, informing her that it’s time for the next outfit change. “Anyways, Rosie wouldn’t say, but it’s obvious why.”
“And why is that?” You take the bait, preparing yourself for whatever’s going to come out of Sana’s mouth next. 
“Because of you,” Sana stands, letting out a small yawn. “Anyways, let’s get this over with. I’m ready to drink. Don’t be a dick.” 
You aren’t sure if Sana was referring to herself or to Rosie, and you couldn’t ask since she left to go change into the next outfit. 
--
The rest of the photo shoot goes without a hitch. You tried your best to not let the conversation with Sana bleed into your work, and you hoped no one noticed. It was slightly harder than it was already to work with Rosie, but you maintained some sense of professionalism. 
There was a minor issue with the zipper breaking on Sana’s dress, but Rosie was quick to fix the problem by throwing a blazer over her. Other than that, everything went well. You thanked everyone for their help today, realizing it was a long day, which everyone was happy to hit the bar once everything was packed up. 
You offered to edit the pictures for them, since you didn’t exactly want to go out. Mina said you didn’t have to, but you were adamant about it. Sana shrugged, indifferent if you joined or not. 
You see Rosie talking to Momo and swallow your pride as you make your way to them. 
“Come on Chaeng,” You catch Momo say as you get closer. “It’ll be fun!” 
“I don’t think so Momo,” Rosie shakes her head. “I just want to stay in tonight.”
“One drink?” Momo begs as you stand next to the women. 
“Sorry Momo,” Rosie smiles, eyes falling on you before her smile slowly fades. 
“Oppa, convince her to go,” Momo pouts. 
“I’m with her on this one Momo,” She frowns, shaking her head, muttering something in Japanese that makes you laugh. “I understand, you know that right?” 
Momo’s eyes widened, cheeks starting to turn red before walking away. 
Once Momo’s a good distance away, you turn to Rosie, a sad smile forming on your face as she looks everywhere but at you. 
“Can we talk?” You ask quietly. 
“So talk,” Rosie crosses her arms. 
“Like in private? Please.”
Rosie relents, sighing. “Let’s just finish with cleaning up and we can go for a walk okay?” 
“Okay,” You nod, grateful that she’s giving you the time of day. 
You have to be honest with her, and if she rejects you completely, at least you can say you tried. 
Rosie shivers next to you, the chill of the sunset creeping in. You shrug your coat off, wrapping it around her shoulders. 
“Thanks,” Rosie mumbles out as you continue walking along the river. 
There are a few people out as well, mostly couples huddled together. It almost makes you want to wrap an arm around her to keep her warm. You won’t though because it’s awkward. 
Rosie walks into the convenience store without saying anything, which you follow her into. She grabs an instant coffee before turning to you, asking if you wanted anything. You shake your head, even though the bottle of soju behind the glass screams your name. 
When she goes to pay, you quickly swipe your card before she could say no. She scoffs, shaking her head, as she walks out. You follow her, keeping a small distance as you watch her take small sips with every step. She stops, leaning on the railing, and stares out to the river. 
Naturally you join her, letting the background noise fill the silence. 
After a few minutes, Rosie says, “You wanted to talk, so go ahead.” 
“First off, I’m sorry,” You say quietly. You apologize for not replying, and most likely worrying her. You explain that going to Osaka was an impulsive choice, but that doesn’t excuse your behavior. 
“Well why? Did I do something?” Rosie turns to face you, lip quivering. You notice her eyes suddenly glossy, and it pangs you to see her like this. 
“No, no,” You shake your head firmly, closing your eyes as you choose your next words carefully. “When I got that text about Soohyun, I finally accepted something.” 
“What?” 
You slowly open your eyes, staring at her features, completely enamored by her. Like you always have been. 
“I’m in love with you,” You admit for the first time out loud, and you’re happy it’s to her. 
Rosie’s eyes widen, gaze looking away as her whole body shifts to face the water again. 
“You’re an asshole, you know that right?” Rosie says quietly. “And an idiot.” She adds, huffing. 
Not the response you were expecting, but before you could ask what she means, she tells you anyway. 
“I’ve spent mostly every day with you for the past month, then we have a really intense night of sex where you fucking claimed me,” You wince at her words, “Then you just leave for two weeks without any contact to come back and say you’re in love with me because of a text of someone asking me out?” 
“Well when you put—”
“I’m not finished,” Rosie huffs, facing you once again. “I’m in love with you, too dumbass. After that last night, I realized that as much as you piss me off, as much as you’re so fucking stubborn, that the idea of being yours felt real. I couldn’t say yes to Soohyun when I unknowingly said yes to you.” 
“You want to be with me?” You stare at her, dumbfounded. 
“If that wasn’t clear enough, yes,” Rosie rolls her eyes. “We’ve basically already been dating, so if you’d just stop running away after and just talk to—whoa,” She gasps when your arm snakes around her waist, pulling her into you, tilting her head up. 
“Say it,” You ghost your lips against hers, moving as she misses. 
“See, stubborn,” There’s a sharp inhale when you kiss her sweetly. 
“Say it,” You mumble, dipping your tongue in as she lets out a moan. 
“Yours,” Rosie wraps her arms around your neck, melting into you as the kiss deepens. 
“I love you,” You detach your lips, resting your forehead against hers. 
“I love you too,” Tracing her fingers along your neck, “Even though you’ve been a jerk these past two weeks. How are you going to make it up to me?” 
“I can think of a few ways.”
--
--
Rosie slams the door behind you, wincing at the frames rattling against the wall. She kicks her shoes off aggressively, barely sparing you a glance as she walks to your room. That door also slams. 
She’s pissed. 
Maybe it was your fault. Okay so it was your fault, but you didn’t mean for it to happen. 
You met up with a few of your friends to celebrate the end of exams and the school year. It was also a small farewell to you and Rosie as you were going to Paris together for the summer. Rosie took the internship at YSL and she was able to get you one too after she sneakily sent over the portfolio from the project. 
Your parents didn’t mind, figuring it would be good for you to take this time before you graduate into the real world. They were supportive that if you decided to do it for real, they’d be more than okay with it. That surprised you, but you couldn’t complain. Though the teasing from your mother was enough. 
You were at the bar, waiting to get your order when Ryujin sat in your lap. You couldn’t do anything as her weight pressed you down. 
“What the hell Ryujin?” You try to get her off you. 
“Oppa, come on. When are you going to ditch Chaeyoung and get back to bed with me?” Ryujin grounds her hips over your crotch, stealing a moan from you as the movement catches you off guard. 
“I’m not going to,” You grit out as she repeats the movement. 
“What the fuck?” You hear Rosie’s voice behind you, gathering the strength to push the woman off your lap. 
“I can explain!” You turn to face her, hands up. 
“Come on Chaeyoung, share him,” Ryujin trails a finger up your chest. “I miss him.” 
“Oh you fucking—” You step out of Ryujin’s hold, lungeing for your girlfriend before she mauls the other woman. 
“Let’s go,” You nearly carry Rosie out as she squirms against your hold. A few people stare as you walk by, but she was about five seconds away from causing a bigger scene, that you couldn’t care less. 
Once you got outside, Rosie ripped into you. She called you every name in the book for doing that. When you explained that you were pushing her off, she called you an idiot for even allowing it. You had no response, knowing it was a lost cause. 
Officially dating Rosie for the past few months, you learned a lot, especially the type of girlfriend she was. She’s more affectionate, tender, soft when it’s just you or with her closest friends. She does a lot for you without even realizing you need help. She acts indifferent to the public about things, but tells you how she feels and what she thinks in private. She shows you in more ways than one just how much she loves you. 
But she’s still the same too. 
She still argues with you over anything and everything. She mouths off whenever she doesn’t get her way (you give in anyways). She relentlessly teases you any chance she gets. 
She’s also very possessive of you. She hates when any girls glance your way. She especially despises any of your past flings (except Jennie) as they boldly ask you to hook up with her right there. She can’t stand it when you say she’s jealous because she’s not. But her use of mine is repeated multiple times as she fucks you to remind you who you belonged to, like you could forget. 
She’s still the biggest pain in your ass, but you love her anyway. 
You open your room door, surprised to see Rosie already changed for bed. She’s adorable dressed in your clothes, the size just a tad too big on her body. You quietly close the door, ignoring her movements as you grab clothes from the dresser. 
When you join her in bed, sliding under the covers, you lay on your side, staring at her scroll through her phone. 
“Chaeng,” You pout as she continues scrolling. “Come on, you know I didn’t do anything.” 
“Why’d you let her sit on your lap then?” Rosie says sarcastically. 
“I didn’t. She just sat there,” You reason, rolling your eyes at her pettiness. 
“Cause you just keep your lap available for anyone to sit on?” 
“Jesus christ, you know I don’t. You’re acting like a brat,” You huff, rolling onto your back. 
“I’m acting like a brat?” Rosie raises her voice, her phone tossed on the nightstand. She hovers over you, eyes narrowing, “I’m not the one letting girls openly sit on my lap when I’m clearly in a relationship.”
“Believe me, everyone knows that I am,” You glare, deciding right then and there you’re going to taunt her. “Not my fault my dick’s just that good they miss me.” 
“You’re fucking unbelievable,” Rosie scoffs, “It’s not even that good.” 
“What do you have to compare it to? You’ve only slept with me and clearly aren’t going after anyone else’s dick,” It’s a low blow, but she’s starting to piss you off. 
In a flurry of movements, Rosie swings her leg over you, cupping your chin rather aggressively before whispering, “Did you want me to? I’m sure there’s still a line of guys dying to get inside of me.”
Your temper flares, hands gripping her waist before flipping her over. 
Now if Rosie’s possessive of you, naturally you’re possessive of her. Probably worse. 
You find your hands underneath your shirt, and she shivers at your touch. 
“Is that a no?” Rosie moans when you pinch her nipples. 
You remove your hands, reaching for the hem of your shirt before throwing it somewhere off to the side. You rip the shirt off her body before slotting yourself in between her legs, pressing most of your weight on top of her. 
“I guess I have to ask,” You start peppering her jaw with kisses, “Do you want to be disappointed?” 
Rosie moans as you gently suck on her sweet spot, smirking against her skin as her hips roll against your crotch. Your cock twitches, but you don’t let your control slip that easily. 
“How-how would I be disappointed?” Rosie tilts her head back, granting you more access as you continue leaving marks along her neck. 
“You’d be comparing them to me,” You thrust against her, just so she could feel what she’s doing to you. 
“Doubtful,” Rosie’s hand slips underneath your waistband, taking hold of your cock as she strokes you. 
“I know you would,” You whisper against her ear, “You wouldn’t cum, I know that for sure.”
“What makes you so confident?” Her grip tightens, a groan falling from your lips. 
“Maybe cause you’re mine,” You nip at her ear, grounding your hips against hers. Her legs wrap around your waist, an all too familiar move that has you rutting into her, mimicking exactly what you were going to do to her. 
“Yours?” 
“Mine,” You tear the shirt over her head, whimpering at her hand leaving you. You tug her shorts down to see her bare pussy, wet and glistening under the low light of your room. You salivate, but tuck those thoughts away for later because you need to get inside her more than anything right now. 
“Better remind me,” Rosie sighs, breath stuttering, as she stares at the obvious bulge in between her legs. “I could probably walk outside and someone would wanna fuck me.”
Your control snaps, shoving your sweats to free your cock. You miss the gasp falling from her lips, but you hone in as you aim your cock at her entrance. 
“Absolutely not,” You snap your hips forward, giving her no time to adjust to the ruthless pace you set on her body. “Only I could do this.”
You spread her legs wider, watching her eyes roll back. Her hips meet every thrust, taking you just like she knows how to. Her long drawn out moans quickly turn into high pitched screams that ring in your ears. 
“Baby,” Rosie brings one hand in between her legs, furiously rubbing her clit as her walls clamp onto your length. “You fuck me so—fuck.” 
Your earlier irritation bleeds away, suddenly feeling the need to make sure Rosie doesn’t forget exactly who makes her feel this good. 
You fill her to the hilt, groaning into the crook of her neck as her pussy contracts around your cock. 
“Baby,” Rosie pants, chest heaving against yours as she tries to move. Your hips have her pinned against the bed, so it’s futile as she writhes underneath you. “Don’t stop, please.” She breathes out, her hand still moving in between you, creating a delicious friction. 
You want her to beg, but with the way she’s squeezing your cock like her life depended on it has you giving in 
“Tell me.”
“Yours-please, please,” Rosie shakes her head, the pressure in between her legs growing. 
“Mine?” You draw your hips back, leaving the head of your cock in. 
“Fuck, yours,” Rosie screams when you slam into her body, hooking her legs over your shoulders as you resume fucking her with everything you’ve got. 
You’re usually not this rough, but a more primal, baser, need takes over. She yelled at you for something that was completely out of your control. Could you have handled it differently? Sure, but she could have handled it differently too. 
You’ve spent enough time with Rosie to know she acts like this to rile you up. You honestly have no problem putting her in her place, especially if it’s in between her legs. 
Rosie’s orgasm rips through her body, back arching suddenly as her hands hold you close. Her nails dig into your skin, nails scratching down your back, which you know will leave marks. 
“Again,” You command, fucking her thoroughly as her pussy spasms around your cock. 
Rosie’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out as her lips form a perfect ‘O’ before a gush of wetness drenches you. 
You pull out quickly, deciding that she doesn’t get to feel you cum inside her—at least right now. It takes you no more than four pumps of your cock before you explode over her body. You aim in between her lower lips, making a bigger mess of her as your mind shuts off. 
You’re both gasping for air, but your eyes fixate on the rise and fall of Rosie’s chest. Moving on impulse alone, you lower yourself, peppering her chest with your lips. One hand lazily drapes over your neck, scratching softly as quiet moans leave her body. 
“Okay,” Rosie mumbles after a couple minutes, gently tugging you off. “You made your point. I don’t want anyone else to fuck me.”
“Good,” You roll off of her, but quickly pull her body into yours. 
“No one else can fuck you either,” Rosie musters out as threatening as possible. It falls short because she’s still trying to catch her breath, exhausted. 
“I know,” You kiss her temple. “Only want you anyways.” 
“Good,” She snuggles into your side, slotting a leg in between yours. 
You offer to clean up, but she pulls you tighter, telling you five more minutes. You chuckle, knowing her body well enough that she’s going to pass out. 
“Love you,” You murmur, lips on her skin again because you couldn’t get enough of her. 
“I love you,” Rosie sighs dreamily. 
You hear light snores after a minute, eyes rolling fondly. You sink into the embrace, closing your eyes as well. 
You’ll clean later, content with the woman in your arms, who will—if you had to bet—want to go again. 
--
--
--
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brighteuphony · 7 months
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Got a bunch of Sasuke-centric asks, so here we are!
Sakura has some complicated feelings about Sasuke.
In my AU, Sakura was born to civilian parents who didn't really want her to become shinobi, even though that had been her dream for as long as she could remember- and it was no secret in the Haruno household that they were hoping she'd drop out, or at the very most, be career genin.
So Sakura never really had anyone to believe in her and had to go into the academy (late!) as a civilian-born, meaning she was automatically behind in development (and status) compared to the clan kids. (I headcanon that until the Academy, Sakura didn't ever spar with anyone, versus clan kids who had probably learned how to wield kunai before they knew how to walk).
So Sakura worked hard and did her absolute best to get the barest minimum that clan kids were afforded by default. Unfortunately, her best, without the resources/opportunities, just wasn't good enough. And Sakura knew it. Academically, she was brilliant, but that's not enough to be a good shinobi. And somewhere deep down, Sakura (at the very least Inner Sakura) knew it.
It's why I headcanon that she developed such a violent temper. People who are secure in themselves don't have such explosive, uncontrolled outbursts- it's why she picked on people like Naruto, who was probably the only person below her in the pecking order (maybe Tenten? But they're equals I guess). It's why she's so quick to anger and usually has those responses OUT of combat- it's because that's the only place her violence is actually effective.
It's also why she's such a teacher's pet- she needs validation from others to try and fill the gaping void.
So when Sasuke appeared on the radar, and everyone wanted him, so did Sakura. Because if she got him, she would do something that no one else- clan-privileged and better- could do. In fact, she staked most of her identity (her hair, her diet, her clothing) on it.
None of this was conscious. She really did have a crush on Sasuke, but the seed of it was born from a very misguided desire to prove herself on an even playing field.
After all, she didn't have a clan upbringing/resources to teach her how to find self-worth and actualization through her skills (she went home, and her civilian parents praised her for things that absolutely didn't matter in shinobi reality, amazement that she could throw a kunai! how good her grades were! and how cool it was that she could jump high!)
(and Kakashi absolutely didn't help, lol), so she defaulted to what she knew- which was being a regular girl with a regular crush.
Now, as an ~adult, she's come to the painful realization that her love for Sasuke was just a goalpost. Ironically, she set her sights on someone who would inadvertently feed into all of those insecurities, and because Sakura didn't love/believe in herself, she accepted Sasuke's abuse.
She also understands that she ran into the Chidori/Rasengan deathmatch of her own stupidity, but she just can't forgive Sasuke for leaving. For never owning up. 'Cause that's just coward behavior..
Basically, Sasuke's cruelty was just a reflection of her own self-loathing, and unfortunately, Sakura just wallowed in denial and ended up paying a hefty-ass price.
So if she ever sees Sasuke again? Honestly, she doesn't know whether she wants justice or revenge. It's complicated.
Whew- that was a text dump....
Once again, thank you so much to everyone for all the interest and asks! I'm so happy we can all share Naruto rotbrain together.
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I apologize in advance, but the brainworms did a heckin screech and I felt the need to share the chaos.
Imagine, if you will, that our Creator let's it slip that they've interacted with other worlds before reaching Teyvat. (Played other video games) Imagine having to explain that in these other worlds, they may or may not have been interested in the denizens of those realms...sometimes in the romantic sense, which led to wedding bells and/or children.
Cue the uproar from the Genshin cast. The Creator, Blessed Maker of All...you have courted others? Have been married?? You have had children??? Their image of you being pure and untouchable, blown apart into tiny little pieces of confetti. 🎉
Though many loathe to admit it, they are curious...who are these people, what are they like? Is there a common factor in your selection of spouses? You would only pick the very best of a realm to choose as a potential partner, surely another being of creation...or perhaps a demigod?
It leads to the proverbial red string board getting made, the Archons trying to find out who is your most likely pick from their regions. It's all for your safety, your Benevolence! If you insist on having a partner, they must find the perfect match for you! You deserve only the best of the best, after all.
Bonus points if the Creator was a fan of games like the Harvest Moon/Rune Factory series. They're gonna need to make a list of all their partners, there are so many options to choose from. >>_>>
I'll admit I never played any of those games so I skimmed through the harvest moon wiki and chose one of the bachelors and chose some other game characters lol. Plus a game for all of you, guess the characters.
Though I do think that the reader having children before causes a bit of whiplash because it's totally unexpected, mostly because there were no records of you taking spouses or kids, even knowing you ‘have’ (play) other worlds is a surprise that causes a bit of a crisis. Either way here are some head cannons.
“I must admit, your grace is awfully attached to Qiqi” Zhongli hums as he blows on his white tea, a small cloud of steam leaving.
Qiqi doesn't pay him much mind, her head coddled under your chin like a little puppy, between her hands there is a small bird plushie “Well, I must admit she does kind of remind me of one of my little ones” Your hand softly pats her head, a few strands of hair moving as you do.
He stills as you spoke, eyes fixated on his cup “your… little ones?”
“Mhm?” Without looking up from the braid you were giving to the little girl you just nod “yep, she is quite soft spoken like Milenoe”
“... I wasn't aware your grace had sired children” there was never any mentions about holy spawns or spouses taken by you in any manuscript he got his hands on.
“Well, I never chose a couple from this world, so there wouldn't be any descendants” the comment slips airly from your lips as Qiqi slides off your lap towards baizhu who had finished checking the books from your bookshelf. “Do you want to see her? She started elementary school a few weeks ago” without waiting for an answer a screen appears displaying a tall man with black hair and horns standing regally behind you and a child with emerald eyes and horns.
“She looks rather shy”
You hum nodding “she is as shy as her father when he was her age. There aren't many children her age she can play with so she was pretty lonely her first 50 years”
“50 years?”
“her dad is a slow maturing species” so it should be 10 times the life expectancy than humans. Not that long for him but certainly longer than usual.
•°•°•
“It's a wonder to see how you manage to get Klee to change her mind about going fish blasting,” albedo scribbles some data half mindedly as he watches you hover next to Klee, who showed you a new drawings every few minutes “she is so stubborn even with Alice”
“Well I do have experience with headstrong children, Pardine is as focused on her goal as her father” one of your hands fall on her blonde hair, bright but still darker than Pardine’s almost champagne blonde and her red eyes polar opposite to her icy ones, a carbon copy to her dad. Even if your genetics rarely showed up on any of your kids it was uncanny how similar she looked to her dad and aunts “but I will admit she does annoy many guards asking to train her”
Albedo just laughs it off, listing the few loose characteristics of one of her spouses. Venti has been annoying him about his nation almost getting no information so he hopes a few spare tidbits and Klee’s rough drawing of a blond blue eyed man with a big shield works for whatever weird thing the archons have going on.
•°•°•
“Your Grace has married before?!” Ayaka gasps as you take a stroll around the nature surrounding her home. Her hand had swiftly unfolded her fan in front of her face.
“Mhm, I don't know why people get so surprised, after all it would be weirder if I spent so much time somewhere but took no lovers” you laugh at her slightly seeing her slightly flustered “it's almost a tradition at this point, to wed someone from each world. Want to see some family portraits?” She nods fervently looking at the tablet like thing that appeared on your hands, first a white haired cowboy like man is kneeling on the ground holding a baby by the armpits surrounded by three wolves ,seemingly playing with an older child, by the time the next imagine passes Ayaka is almost hanging by your shoulder, asking things about the siblings and begging to see more photos of your babies.
“And who did you take from teyvat?” Ayaka looks up sweetly at you, she has always held you in high regard and now that you are in Inazuma she can't help but get giddy thinking about how you decided to spend the stay in her state and most of your time with her.
Feigning surprise you tap your chin with your index finger “now that I think about it I didn't choose anyone yet... maybe it's about time”
“Then that means you could pick my brother!” She wraps her hand around your own, smiling as if she got the best idea ever “I could even call you older sibling!... If you wanted so of course”
“Big brother you remember how you told me you would find me a proper bachelor”
“If this is about wanting me to rush it won't work”
“It's not about it, I found you someone”
“Fine, as you please, need I remind you my standards are quite high”
“It's their grace!... Why are you choking on your tea!?”
•°•°•
“There isn't one damned coincidence…” Raiden slaps her head against the table with the rough drawings and some information about them “a king, a captain, a cowboy, a damned sorcerer…”
“Maybe there isn't supposed to be a coincidence” Nahida guesses “maybe they just look for someone who catches their eye”
“It doesn't help out as much as you think it does” the tsaritsa crosses her legs and leans against the back of the chair “if we are doing people with very clear characteristics maybe Ajax could fit nicely? Redheads aren't very common”
“Mhm, maybe but don't they have a liking for smart men? Then Alhaitham would be closer to their past couples”
“Well if we are going by that logic they should like the geo archon, as one of them has dragonic features” the tsaritsa side eyes Zhongli from the other side of the table.
Sighing deeply Furina, who came in place of Neuvillette, chimes in “It is their decision who they want to marry and even if they wanted to!”
"obviously you would be so calm, after all they are very close with your iudex. Don't get so cocky, I heard the commissioner Ayato is interested in the idea"
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starlightazriel · 15 days
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bee 10
series desc: modern best friends >lovers au(fem reader, tattoo artist coke boi az haha) part 10 psa: not everyone will like this part lol don't kill me borderline domestic violence/abuse
warnings: 18+, rough sex where reader is drunk(blurry consent lines, i know i have issues im sorry), unprotected sex, spanking, praise, bj, possessive az, dark az, more groveling, drug/alcohol addiction, az having lots of inner monologue, self loathing, depression
a/n: canon az would never do this omg hes an angel with women bee series az however is a hot mess PROCEED W CAUTION!!!! kisses xoxo
AFTER COMMENTS RECEIVED I ADDED A POLL FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS REWRITE OR PART 11 VOTE HERE
wc: 4.7k
other parts can be found on my az masterlist<3
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ten
Azriel was watching the front door for hours. He knew she was back in town, he saw Kat's story. Y/n standing next to her, drink in hand. A grin, bloodshot drunken eyes, swollen from crying too, a tiny jean mini skirt, a crop top that was definitely Kats as it stretched too tightly over her generous breasts, nipples rings showing through the taut fabric. It had taken everything in him not to throw his phone through the flat screen. She was out looking like that, and he was here, miserable, sober besides all the weed he had smoked, which didn't do much for him anymore.
12:23 am.
He did clean up the house a bit for her... He couldn't let her walk into the mess he had created. He started with all of the trash, moved to the dishes, put any paraphernalia away back in his room, picked up all of his clothing strewn about the house.
1:37 am.
Fuck. The drawings. Azriel hesitated in front of her door, though he had been spending a lot of time in there recently, knowing she was back in the city, it somehow felt like a violation. That was ironic, considering how all of this had even started between them. It took effort not to physically cringe when entering her room, and his stomach twisted, cheeks burning at the realization that she had been in here. She had stopped here earlier before going to Kats. There was her bag. Right there, in the corner. His eyes settled on her bed, three of his drawings laid there carefully. He swallowed thickly as he looked at the drawings, each one made in the peak of his mental breakdown he had been going through since she left. One was of their hands, his own scarred flesh against her delicate smooth skin. One of her by herself, laughing, happy, his gut twisted. The last, of them kissing, him holding her face in his hands, tear stains dotted the page and that feeling of guilt that he was all too familiar with lately settled, dragging him down with it.
2:01 am.
Fuck. What the hell was she even doing? Where was she? He let out a heavy sigh before he picked up each and every one of the messy drawings he had done and brought them into his own room, shoving them deep into the filing cabinet by his desk. That was when the pacing about the entire house began— he couldn't possibly sit still now.
2:22 am.
Twenty minutes of pacing wasn't him doing any good, so on went the TV, he thought some cartoons should make him feel better and he settled on CatDog. Another spliff, some chips, cartoons humming in the background. It was better than going out of his fucking mind wondering what she was doing. Which he was still doing— but at least the mindless cartoons helped to drown out the voices screaming in his head, and the insatiable desire to do a line. He had forced himself to stay sober today... He wanted a clear head when he spoke to her.
2:46 am.
Azriel froze when he heard the doorknob turn, his heart beginning to pound wildly. He hadn't seen her since that night on her parents porch. What was she going to say? He had been preparing himself for the worst.
"You cleaned," a small hiccup, flushed cheeks, nervous, sad eyes avoided his as she entered the apartment. She was looking around, anything to avoid eye contact.
"I did," he rose to his feet, dropping the end of the spliff into a the ash tray he had been using. He took a few strides closer, freezing in the hallway when he finally got a good look at her. Lipstick smudged across her lips, hair disheveled, stray pieces falling around her face and eyes.
"Az," she whispered, her eyes widening slightly as they met stare that was growing angrier with each passing second, the emotion emanated from him, filled the apartment like a heavy shadow that pressed into her chest, that made her want to cower away from him.
He didnt know what it was, what over came him but he was in front of her in an instant, long scarred fingers grabbling her face, jaw clenched, grip tight around her own jaw, her cheeks squished, smudged lips smushed together. She's afraid of you, stop. She yelped quietly, eyes wild, wide with fear as she stared up at him, a pleading look in her eyes.
Stop now.
"What the fuck did I say?" it was a low growl, deep from his throat, she was drunk, he could tell, she could barely keep herself up, her knees wobbled, both hands curling around his arm, trying to pull him off of her. He knew this wasnt okay— no this was wrong, so very wrong.
Let her go.
"Az," she whimpered softly, her eyes glazed with tears.
Fucking stop— irreversible damage Azriel, stop now, before you can't.
"I told you not to fucking play with me. You fucking reek like booze and you look like a cheap fucking whore," a lie, his eyes flashed as it passed his lips, she thrashed slightly trying to free her face from his grip. "Stop fucking moving," he grunted, releasing his grip on her face to grab her neck, his fingers squeezing against her soft flesh, he felt her swallow beneath his grip, his blood thrummed.
"Az stop," she begged, her fingers still wrapped tightly around his arm, eyes wild and nervous as her nails dug into his skin.
"This is mine, its all mine," he rasped, his other hand roaming roughly over her body, "I swear to fuck— y/n if you gave my pussy up," he nearly choked on the words, his blood boiling and stomach churning at the thought.
This is wrong Azriel— stop, stop now. You should be on your knees begging forgiveness, stop.
This wasnt him, this wasnt supposed to be happening... This was his father— this is how his father treated women, not him.
"Az, I didnt," her voice broke as she rasped, her eyes were afraid but also— tender, because she knew him, she knew he didnt mean to treat her this way, she understood him on a level that no one else could.
"I should slap the fuck outta you for coming home like that," his fingers loosened on her neck, a sigh of relief escaping her lips with the motion. He didnt mean it, he would never hit her, his chest tightened, her eyes flashing as his words sunk in.
What the fuck is wrong with you? She's never going to talk to you again.
"Im sorry," she slurs softly, her glazed gaze dropping as if she couldn't look him in the eyes, guilt settled on her face. No, this is my fault, don't do that, don't look like that because of me.
"Don't be sorry," His voice was still firm but his eyes softened, swallowing the lump in his throat. I don't deserve you, run. Fucking run. "Just be a good girl and take off your whoring outfit," he finally loosed his fingers from her neck with a gentle push and she stumbled back, wobbly on her feet, she's drunk as fuck, don't fucking do this Az, this is fucked. Youre fucked, youre fucked in the head.
"You missed me didnt you?" she relaxed again allowing a small drunken giggle to escape her lips, she steadied herself on the near by side table before beginning to undress. His eyes followed her movements as her fingers slid over her silky skin and she slowly unclasped the dainty clips on her high heels revealing the fresh looking French tipped toes, his mouth watered at the sight of her.
Tell her how much you miss her. Tell her the truth, tell her youre sorry. Put her to bed Azriel, change her clothes, put her to fucking bed you sick fuck.
Anger outweighed his desire to do the right thing, he couldn't stop himself, what if this was his last chance to fuck her? To feel her?
"Keep going," he encouraged, his hard cock aching in his pants, pressing against the fabric of his sweats, he could feel the precum leaking from the tip, painfully so, he hadn't gotten his nut off since last time they'd fucked weeks ago. He watched as she slid the little mini skirt down her long smooth tattooed legs, many of them he had done himself. She looked so fucking good, shit he'd missed her. "Mhmm," he hummed to himself, his eyes burning into her skin, not looking away for even a second. She shimmied off the crop top next, her braless breasts bouncing deliciously as she freed them from the tight top. A soft involuntary groan escaped his lips at her now near bare body before him. He took a step toward her, placing his hand under her chin and tilting her head up so he could inspect her, she shivered slightly at the touch and he pressed his thumb lightly into her chin, his eyes raking over her bare skin.
"Azriel," she whispered, squirming slightly under his gaze, he froze at the small purply spot behind her ear, a little hickey.
"Oh youre so fucked," he let out a soft breath, poking the small bruise, she let out a small yelp, flinching away from him.
"Az! What is wrong with you?!"
So many things.
"What is wrong with you?" a soft growl escaped his lips, his eyes growing darker with each second that passed, he reached behind her, his body pressing against hers as he did, her breath caught, her eyes wide as she stared up at him. In a swift motion he cleared everything off of the side table in the hallway, the ceramic bowl that held their keys cracking on the floor, she winced, opening her mouth to say something but he grabbed her chin tightly again, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You come into my house, at almost three am, dressed like a fucking thot with a hickey on your neck, face all fucked up," he released her jaw aggressively, her head thrown to the side slightly, she let out a soft whimper, rubbing her chin. "Who gave it to you?" he demanded, placing his hand on her shoulder and whirling her around, pressing her against the table so her hips were flush with it, another small whine escaped her lips.
"It doesn't matter Az-"
"Tell me," he growled softly, his hand connecting with her ass in a sharp smack, she flinched, her hand finding the edge of the table and she held tightly. "Tell me," a warning edge in his tone
"E-Eris!" she yelped out softly, bracing herself for the next impact.
"Yeah, youre so fucked," he chuckled dryly, without an ounce of humor in his tone. Rage was coursing through his blood, red, red was all he could see. Fucking Eris, why? Why him? He didnt know why it infuriated him so much, maybe because he was so different from Azriel, practically opposites. How could she even be attracted to both of them? His pale perfectly smooth skin and red hair like the fucking devil, immaculate cleanness, infinite pockets and endless confidence and suave. He hated all of it.
"Az please," she begged, and he was too angry to even acknowledge the damage he knew he was doing.
"Youre soaking wet," he yanked her thong down, exposing her bare ass to him, his mouth watered again at the sight. "Is it because you like when I rough you up like this?" another smack to that same reddened spot on her bum followed by another soft whimper, her fingers gripping the edge of the table tightly. "Or is it because you like redheaded pricks?"
"Both," she bit back, her words slurred, he laughed again, that same humorless cold chuckle before his hand connected with her skin again, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. A shaky breath released from her lips as she braced herself for more, her eyes squeezing shut.
"Makes me sick you let him put his hands all over you. Act like a whore get fucked like one," his gravelly voice laced with intent as he released his hard cock from his sweats, they pooled on the floor at his feet as he wrapped his fingers around his thick length. She gasped softly, wincing at the sting as he slapped his cock on the round of her ass in that same spot he had spanked numerous times. His teeth sunk into his lower lip, cheeks flushed with anticipation, he had missed this.
"Youre mine, you understand me?" he asked, his tone sharp as he slid his leaking tip over her entrance, he hissed softly under his breath at the feeling of her wet cunt on his most sensitive skin.
"Yes Az, yes I understand," she rasped softly, another soft yelp leaving her lips as he shoved his cock into her, a low guttural groan leaving his lips. He had missed this so much.
"Good girl," he ground his hips against her ass, pinning her against the table, another small cry left her lips as he pulled his throbbing cock nearly all the way out and back in, the table shook beneath them. His thrusts were greedy, quick and unforgiving as she fell apart beneath him. Her pussy clenched around him, the tip of him dragging across her g-spot with every forceful stroke.
"Az," she let out a broken whimper, her mouth falling open, face twisting in blissful pleasure as she came all over his cock. He rasped a breath, surprised he hadn't been the one to cum first. Maybe she had been wound just as tightly as he was.
"Oh?" he breathed out, panting softly from the pace, small beads of sweat forming at his temples. "You came already?" he asked, a prideful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he ground his hips his cock filling her up so perfectly, her creamy release leaking around the base of his cock. She only whined softly in response which was only broken up by a soft yelp when he abruptly yanked his cock from her. Azriel grabbed her shoulder, pulling her up on wobbly legs before pushing her down on her knees.
"Go on," he grunted, his eyes glazed as he stared down at her, she was drunk as hell. He swallowed, wrapping his fingers into her hair and tapping his cock on her face, she loosed a breath, her jaw dropping open for him. She gagged as his cock hit her throat, not nearly fitting, he moaned, holding her head in place and fucking her face. "Fuck baby, good girl," he panted softly, his cheeks flushed, eyes glued to her, she moaned around him, her eyes squeezed shut, tears forming at the corners of her eyes as he brushed the back of her throat over and over. He hummed in approval as she swirled her tongue around his tip, dragging it along the underside of his cock, over his balls and then back up, her lips wrapping around him again.
Azriel cursed under his breath, his fist tightening in her hair as he released his thick ropes of milky cum into her mouth, she nearly choked as it shot to the back of her throat, one of her hands gripped the back of his knee tightly as she swallowed every last drop and sucked his cock clean. She panted, shrinking down onto the floor a bit her knees nearly buckling beneath her. He released her hair as she sunk down, a shaky breath escaping her lips as he did, his gut wrenched at the sight of her. On the floor beneath him, body dusted with red marks that he knew would turn to purple by the morning, he left them there. Azriel swallowed thickly as he tucked his cock back away into his pants before leaning down, putting his hands under her arms to lift her.
"Come on, get up," his tone is soft as he helped her up, once she was on her feet he easily he picked her up, and she rest her head on his chest as he brought her to the bathroom. "You feel lighter... You eating?" he asks, the guilt beginning to gnaw at his gut.
What the fuck is wrong with you? Fucking sick piece of shit.
"Mhm," was her only response, he let out another small sigh before setting her down on her feet. "Where's all my pictures?" she slurred softly, her eyes raking her her room.
"Put em away," he muttered, a blush creeping onto his cheeks as he rifled through her clothing retrieving a soft cotton pair of panties and a long t shirt.
"I liked them Az," she mumbled lazily, her eyes closed as he dressed her in her more comfortable clothing. He winced a little at her words
"Bed time," he breathed, steadying her on her feet before scooping her up in his arms again, and placing her into her bed. He tucked her in, pulling the blankets up to her chin and tucking them around her body.
"Why didnt you tell me you were moving to Vegas Azriel?" she asked, her words still slurred, he swallowed hard, tugging at his hair as he sat on the edge of her bed.
"We should talk tomorrow," he muttered, knowing she probably wouldn't remember the conversation if they had it now. She only nodded, her eyes still closed. Azriel reached out hesitantly and gently rubbed her back as she fell asleep.
He stayed there, watched her sleep, the soft glow from the string lights she had put up along one of her walls the only thing iGuilt gnawed at his gut, at his insides, he wanted to jump out of his own skin.
She deserved so much more than him... The little girl that he had shared his favorite candy with in front of her house, the girl that had saved him, so many times— she deserved the world, and he couldn't give it to her. He couldn't even keep her happy, the dark circles and the drop in weight proved that. It was his fault. All of it.
All day, he had gone all day without a single line.
And now— after he had taken advantage of her, put bruises on her, fucked her while she was too drunk to say no, said horrible fucking things he didnt mean...
Now he needed a fucking line.
-
A soft groan escaped my lips as I rolled over, pain, I was in pain everywhere— felt like I had been hit by a damn bus. My head pounded from the amount of alcohol I had consumed, my pussy was still lightly throbbing, completely beat up from last nights activities.
The house was quiet, but still my head throbbed.
My mind was fuzzy but I remembered pieces, remembered that I had made out with Eris, come home late, Azriel had put his hands on me- we had fucked. I groaned again, pressing my palms into my aching eyes.
Obviously, Azriel was out of fucking line— out of control. I hadn't thought our situation could get any worse, and now, impossibly worse.
Could I blame him for his actions when nobody taught him how to love someone? When I knew that his need for control had rooted from the childhood horrors he had once faced? Could I blame him for his actions when I knew his brain had developed around abuse and violence? No, I couldn't blame him.
Maybe I was in denial, but underneath it all? Still my Az.
Waiting on the counter for me was a latte and a breakfast sandwich from my favorite cafe, next to it a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it, my chest swelling at the bouquet he had drawn along with a few bees flying around it, the drawing was messy a few ink splatters where he had pressed the pen down too hard, but still beautifully done like anything he touched with his artistic ability. A small message scribbled at the bottom.
hope its still warm when you get up im sorry if you don't completely fucking hate me stop at the shop before your shift, i love you, azriel
Still my Az.
I sighed, frustration beginning to bubble within me. Always lax, always acting like everything was just fine. I was tired of it, I was tired of always just pretending like everything was okay when that dark cloud of depression had reared its ugly head weeks ago.
It was an effort to shower, to get dressed, I didnt have the will to put any makeup on besides a little mascara afterwards. Every movement felt heavy and painful and full of more effort than it should, but it wasnt only my physical condition from drinking an ungodly amount and Azriels- outburst. It was also my emotional state- my brain so utterly exhausted from all of the trauma I had been enduring in the past weeks. I couldn't even bare to look in the mirror for more than a few moments either, the fingerprint shaped bruises dusted along my jawline highlighted by the brightly lit bathroom.
It was even more of an effort to get myself out of the car when I reached the shop. Anxiety gnawed at my gut, would they ask? Would they even notice? It didnt matter, I needed answers. I needed answers to questions I hadn't even formed yet. The bells chimed as they usually did and the stares I received upon my entrance didnt do anything to sooth my anxious gut. The lack of clientele in the waiting room definitely helped, a little.
"Hey," I said wearily to Kat and Cass, I avoided eye contact at all cost, and found my usual place leaning against the counter. Kat was in her chair behind it, Cassian perched on a stool nearby.
"Hey boo," Kat says quietly, I could feel Cass' boring into me. Don't bring it up. I could tell by his lack of greeting he was about to.
"Y/n, please don't tell me Az did that," Cassians voice is soft but I could hear the concern laced in his tone.
"Is he here?" I ignored his question completely, I didnt want to get into it. Not now.
"Hes doing a tattoo, Cassians room is empty tho— if you wanted to wait for him, its been a couple hours, hes almost done," Kat didnt pry, she knew better, and Cass didnt protest when she offered his room up without asking first.
"Thanks," its slightly breathless, with an effort not to burst out in tears in front of them. I couldn't handle the worried stares— the pity. The door clicked shut behind me and I dropped my bag on Cassians piercing bed and slid into his chair. Alone, now, I let the tears of frustration flow freely. They were silent, but hot and streaming, I wiped my eyes with my sleeves, letting out an exasperated sigh.
I didnt know how long it had been when I heard his voice outside, I held my breath to listen. "She's here?" surprise, hopeful surprise.
"Az— Im not past putting you on the floor if you put your hands—"
"Im not," Azriel cut him off with annoyance. I straightened, realizing he was about to be in here.
I sniffled, wiping my eyes again quickly to try and hide the evidence of my tears before Az stepped in, in all his brooding glory. His face was grave, eyes impossibly more tortured than usual, hair messy and disheveled, chains stacked, poking out from under his shirt, he was in the same clothes that he had been in last night and it didnt look like he'd gotten an ounce of sleep.
"Leave it open," I commanded softly, I saw Cassian quickly look away and back toward Kat as Az began to shut the door. Hurt flashed in Azriels eyes, but he stopped, leaving the door where it was. It wasnt wide open, but open enough.
"You don't trust me," it wasnt a question, but a statement, and he was right, to an extent at least. I didnt think Az would hurt me— after last night... I wouldn't feel bad for asking him to leave the door open.
"Youre fucked up," I muttered when our eyes met, his pupils always a tell tale, he swallowed, his throat bobbing with the motion. "Probably should have this conversation another time."
"I was always fucked up Bee, every fucking moment I was fucked up— it doesn't matter," he took a step toward me, I held my breath again, my eyes tracing every movement he made. "Im sorry." Another step, I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing as I watched him drop to his knees in front of me.
"Sorry doesn't fix everything," my voice broke, he winced, his eyes boring into mine, showing me a vulnerable side Id never seen before.
"I know that," he breathed, and I almost broke all over again seeing the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. "Im so fucked in the head Bee nothing I did last night was okay- fuck- it was- Im sick Im sorry," he rambled, he slid his hands into his hair, his fists curling into it, his elbows on either side of his head.
"Its not okay none of it— the fucking bottle girls, the lying, last night especially... I- you asked me last night why I kept Vegas from you and I have nothing- I have no good fucking answer or excuse that makes it okay but I swear I was gonna ask you to come with me, like fuck y/n I wish you could see I wish you could understand—" rambling again, I let him, my tears flowing again, words failing me. "I would let Rhys fucking sue me for breaking contract before I would leave this fucking city without you," his cheeks were flushed, tears running down them, I hadn't seen this before... As well as I knew him he never showed this much raw emotion, besides anger. "I know Im a fucking addict and a fucking alchy, but Im trying to be better, I went to AA, Im trying to quit drinking, but Im fucked Bee- Im so fucked up from all the shit Ive never faced and Im so fucking sorry I put that on you lastnight."
AA, he had done that for me, my heart ached for him. To hear him say those things about himself, in front of his friends, my heart ached knowing how hard all of this must be, but for me, he was doing it for me.
"If you never forgive me I deserve that, I honestly do Im a piece of shit— a fucking stain on your very existence you deserve so much fucking more than someone like me," I wanted him to stop, I wanted him to stop saying all of those horrible things, as angry as I was at him.
"Im so fucking sorry," he breathed again, his voice breaking, with a sob. Az, my Az, the one who hid behind that cold stare and never let anyone in, the one who never let that hard exterior crack... Was on his knees for me... Every word, Kat and Cass could hear every single word, they could hear him cry, hear his confessions his countless apologies and he didnt care. He didnt care that they knew, he only needed me. He needed me like air to breathe.
And I felt it, I felt it with every ounce of me because I needed him just as much.
So I didnt hesitate when I reached for him, when I pulled his hands from his hair, and pulled him to me. His body went limp, his knelt form hunching over as he let his head fall into my stomach.
"It's okay Az, breathe," my voice was soft as I stroked his hair, holding him close to me while he cried.
I knew it wasnt okay, none of it was, but he needed me and I needed him, and the rest I would figure out later.
-
a/n: wow they are toxic and codependent hahaahahaha NOT FULLY PROOF READ EXCUSE MISTAKES
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mewtwoandme · 1 month
Text
Hey guys, just thought I'd make a quick update of my situation. It's been a little over a week, and thankfully, some things have gotten better but everything is still a process. Unfortunately, the corrupt justice system has to be involved, which I loathe entirely, but it is what it is. I'm a bit apprehensive in trusting the courts and everyone associated, but it's unavoidable for the necessary paperwork we need. Again, I'm not gonna say too much, this is a private situation, but I'd like to be a little more transparent. I've been helping out my grandmother because sadly no one else in the family is willing to help. She's 80 and never had to deal with this kind of stuff before, and for her age she shouldn't have to.
I will say though, even though I don't mind helping her, this whole thing has really taken a toll on me mentally in only a week. I have tried to pick up my drawing pen now and then, but because of the stress and mental exhaustion I haven't been finding enjoyment in doing art, now I mostly just sleep after work on days where I don't have to make phone calls and go places helping out my grandma...I don't like it, having my whole normal daily routine turned upside down rattled me somewhat, I don't deal with change very well lol, but for right now that's just the way it has to be. I have to keep reminding myself that this is only temporary.
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comfortless · 7 months
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so. please consider: König is a prince (yeah we aren’t going full king this route, maybe he has an older brother or some complications having the throne to himself but either way he has some power just not all of it lol) and reader is part of a performing troupe that usually acts out plays outside of the castle. he goes out to watch them and becomes so desperate for her that he gets /her/ to perform as /him/ when the plays are about his heroic deeds or whatever.
i have had this idea stuck in my head for days and i just know you can bring it to life 🩵
the evil little König in my head took over. no one look at me. 🥩🏰
prince!König x fem reader.
content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. dubcon. mentions of adultery (not committed by reader or König), corruption kink (virgin!König), cunnilingus, light roleplay, scent & praise kink, smut (piv), reader is kind of evil here (König still manages to be worse), allusions to abduction.
“You are certainly lovelier than my wife, the Queen!”
He had his sword drawn, not high enough to elicit panic, but just enough to know that yes, there was a very present threat. This could be a bloodbath in an instant. Speak another word — he won’t refrain. He feels his teeth grit, grating, ash in the mouth and in the air.
The actors are unaware where they are stood on stage, and the mass of bodies surrounding barely take note of their Prince. A phantom. Loathed thing that he has always been. More hated than even their lecherous, stupid king. There’s only one thing he’s good for and it’s never been politics; there’s no need to garner up public appeal when your stage is a foreign field littered with blood and corpses.
Another insult to his poor mother and the city could be one too.
From a small wooden booth acting as a prop depiction of a brothel, steps a woman. Barefoot, bare flesh, the only thing she wears is a breast band and a loincloth of finely stitched lace. She isn’t a whore, not in truth, but she looks the part of the women his men rush to the second they’ve returned home. Ale and sex in abundance, and he’s never had the focus for the latter after a round of the former.
He watches as she sways, draws her hand to her forehead and bats her lashes while her other trails up her thigh to the hem of the piece concealing her womanhood. She stops with a laugh, turns to the crowd with sparkling eyes and says, “You lot should not cheer! The Queen surely deserves better than a womanizing fool!”
König’s never been one for plays, how tactlessly they slander the royal family and make jest of current affairs. This troupe, though… he thinks it’s done in taste. Or maybe it’s just her.
Even as the aging performer with his weathered face and messy gray beard acting the part of his father rushes to the pretty thing on stage and paws at her waist, König can not tear his eyes away.
The scene reaches its end when the brothel is burned, enacting something horrible the king had done several springs ago. Bereaved, the woman returns to the stage and bares her breasts, monologuing so sweetly as she feigns tears for her fallen sisters.
König swears to be nothing like his father but he still finds his trousers fitting more tightly at the sight, not foul enough to touch himself here, if ever at all. His heart aches with each fragile word spilled from those plush lips, and his cock demands further engagement with each gentle sway of her body and heave of her round tits.
His sword slots back into place at his hip when the scene comes to an end: the crowd a storm of laughter, the fire of the torches illuminating the street flickering, the actors dissipate behind the wooden stage, and all at once the play is over.
Tactless and impulsive, he thinks to thank her for not furthering the set-up for a joke, looks the part of a proper fool when he makes his way backstage where she’s sat wiping away carmine from her cheeks. The actress’ eyes go wide and hazy when she catches sight of him towering over her, the cloth and mirror slipping from her hands to rest on the table.
Of course, she takes it as a warning, asks him if he would prefer they only act out the current affairs— the recent siege of the southern kingdom, maybe? Or a story about the harvest festival? The gods or beasts? Anything she can sputter out to the man she easily recognizes as being the Prince.
König only finds himself further endeared when she dips her head as if ashamed and moves to conceal the bare skin of her stomach as though it would be insulting to see her in such a state of undress.
He excitedly tells her about the siege, of how he slaughtered those treasonous men and so valiantly brought their women and children to the capital to live much more honest lives, boasting while she looks on in acute, wonderous horror. That’s what he chooses, even pulls his hood from his face and drops it into her lap when he tells her she has to play his part.
The actress explains to him, docile and sweet, that she’s never played a male role and certainly lacks the stature to accurately represent him of all people. To which, he laughs, bids her a farewell with a flick of his wrist and wanders back out into the cobblestone and muck to finish up his patrol of the city.
A fortnight later, she returns to the stage in hastily put on armors, his veil hanging proudly about her head, a wooden sword clasped tightly in her hands. The crowd watching laughs at her expense as she tries in earnest to perfect the way she imagined his sword must have danced during that siege. The male actors fall with each tap of the weapon’s tip, and her voice takes on a forced, deeper tone when she speaks her praises to the kingdom she’s pilfered glory for.
König only sees fire, not in the flames of torches but lain out before him, a heat that courses from the picture of this beautiful little doe on stage straight down to simmer in his chest, his stomach. She’s so cute, pretending and doing her best just to appease him that he finds himself backstage again once the play concludes.
It’s just to talk, to congratulate her on a wonderful performance. He even presents a hefty sack of gold coins to her when she returns his veil, and she marvels at the donation, takes each piece and turns it in her fingers for a time before setting the little bag on the table.
Her brow scrunches for a moment before she settles on offering her hand out to him, fingertips ghosting over his upper thigh, loitering on the armor shell protecting him and drifting further up until he takes her hand and interlocks their fingers. Surely then, the actress comes to realize that her prince is as pure as the sisters in their temples.
She breathes out a laugh and shakes her head.
“I mean to pleasure you, my Prince,” she says, less meek now and more insisting. Her hand draws back to remove the prop armor from her body, eyes never leaving his own.
Though he considers the woman’s offer heavily, pulse stampeding and heart aching, he does eventually will himself to voice a weak refusal.
Never does he keep himself holed away from her for long, even after; König returns for each play whilst his men go about patrolling the city for prowlers and thieves. He watches each performance and continuously seeks her out backstage after. They talk each time, with him offering his suggestions and her clamoring for excuses as to why, no, she isn’t fit to play his role for another fight or some drab court meeting.
Finally, the same song and dance proves too much.
This night, there is no play and König still finds himself in the room cluttered with set pieces and props. The other actors have gone about seeking their own affairs for the evening; bedsides to coax comfort from or mugs of ale and bowls of bone to drown themselves in whilst gambling away the coins the hungering crowd has thrown their way.
She sits with him, perched up on her little table wearing nothing at all. Her skin is lit aglow by candlelight, the incense burning bathing all in the welcoming, warm comfort of lavender and rosemary. There’s ash in his chest again when he finds himself at her side, already aching with a want that should not exist, one that he would deny in full with bared teeth and blurry vision.
Only, she doesn’t prompt him with questions when her palms splay flat at the chest of his tunic, just grins like a wolf given a fat leg of mutton when she feels him begin to tense. She assures him that she’s only teaching him to act after demanding that he kneel, catches his jaw atop her hand and guides his face between her thighs where he then pants and groans at the foreign, enticing scent.
It awakens something in him, something bathed out and buried in blood, the very same that courses through his veins like a violent river now. A feral look and an iron grip on her hips that would leave bruises is all she gets. All until she hisses out the words, “I am your princess and you will do as I ask.”
The first lick is hesitant, clumsy, his stubble grazed over her most sensitive parts as he slips his tongue across the smoothness of her slit. He doesn’t have an idea of what he’s doing, only enacting the vile things he’s heard men about the castle speak of, how to properly take a woman apart and push her to not only want, but to need.
Mostly, she’s unimpressed.
When he gathers her taste on his tongue, he becomes a man possessed, ripped away from duty and sovereignty and brought down to the lowness of mere swine. He groans into her cunt, laps and suckles at anything his tongue and lips can touch, savors the sight, dewy and swollen when he presses a kiss to the bud that finally does get her to purr.
“Sweet boy..,” she coos to him when her hands find his hair, petting him so gently as he continues to lap at her clit. “You’re taking such good care of your princess, yes?”
His mind blanks entirely, driven forward with a renewed, feverish vigor as he dismantles her wholly with a drooling mouth and an unrelenting stare. Rationality should have pulled him away before it ever got to this point; she’s a peasant, and he can’t run amok fathering bastards and condemning himself to Hell for a simple woman. But that’s all beaten back by her taste, the way she writhes in his hold, keeps whispering her praises and lacing those soft fingers through his hair… no amount of devils or men could pry him from her cunt.
Only she does when her voice comes in a pant and her grip tightens to pull him back. The table, his face, all sticky and wet with what must have been her very essence, drawn out by a man lacking experience but so unknowingly eager.
“Take off your clothes,” comes her next demand, one he obliges with a great hesitance.
The tunic is pulled away with shaking hands, the tie of his trousers next. He mutters a curse below his breath when his cock springs free, so erect and angry it looks painful. The tip drools just as much as that fluttering heaven between her legs, pearly beads of preejaculate leaking down to stain the fabric and further condemn him to this impromptu fate.
He jerks when she wraps her hand around him there, whines when she leans forward to kiss its head.
“I can’t…” His voice sounds weak to his own ears, pathetic and miserable as he makes a mock attempt at prying her away with a gentle press to her shoulder. “My princess… we should not.”
He’s almost certain she’s a devil herself sent to exact some punishment upon him when her lips curl up into a grin and she lies back with her knees drawn to her chest. She speaks such words to him then that he would not dare to ever repeat, songs only the unknown could sing. An angel, perhaps, when she slips a finger into herself to demonstrate to him just what should be done… there, with panting breaths and whispers of heaven.
And finally, when his cock throbs and kicks at the sight, all resolve is entirely lost. He positions himself over her where she guides the tip of his manhood to her slit, praises his size when his hips give an involuntary twitch and he slightly dips into her, sampling her warmth and the resistance from something so thick pressing into her.
His world crumbles at the sensation, cobblestone replaced by the raging heat of brimstone and an obscene lust that clouds his mind and leads him to spear her open to his hilt.
He finds holiness in their union, bites back a roar when her walls tremble around him. She only laughs when his teeth find her shoulder, only sings more hymns into his ear as he fucks into her cunt at a reckless, brutal pace. The words don’t register, far-away and distant amidst the roaring tide of sensation. She’s so tight, so wet and yearning, quivering beneath him and clawing down his back.
“We shouldn’t, hm?,” she whispers in his ear, teeth grazing the lobe. His strokes become even sloppier, each thrust stuttered and heady when the sound of her voice pulls through the haze of bliss. “My sweet boy is so good at this, though…”
His voice is nearly a wail when he loses himself fully then. He holds the back of her thighs, fucks himself through an orgasm that leaves his head spinning and his body shaking as though he’s come down with some wretched fever. And perhaps he is ill, because he can’t bring himself to think of anything more than the divine rapture of stuffing his seed into the warmth of her pussy, can’t bring himself to pull his cock out of her even when he begins to soften.
His face is buried against her neck, professing his endless love as he breathes her in and ruts into her over and over until his cock is once again stiffened and drooling inside of the very cunt he would die to keep.
Surely, when her troupe begins to pack to drift further out into the kingdom for their performances to be seen… he could accuse them of slander, have the old man playing the part of the lecherous king executed, the others thrown into rat-infested cells, and the little princess tethered to his bed to warm his heart and his cock.
He will kiss away her tears, tell her that all could be forgiven if she would only let him make an honest woman of her.
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hazelfoureyes · 3 months
Text
Wrapped Around Your Finger (part 2)
He couldn’t stay away, and you didn’t mind the arrangement. But it was a little exhausting how much he pushed and pulled whenever he needed a little reminder of his own weaknesses.
I don’t even know man lol
「Warnings/Promises: 🗣️ EATING OUT THE DEER MAN, fucking him with a dildo, Gender Neutral Reader x Alastor smut, hate fucking??, humiliation I guess idk he loves it that little slut, kinda dubcon, mentions of blood, scratching, kinda degradation kink, cumming on his own face lmao, choking but his heart isn’t in it :(, kinda angsty?, Lighthouse are not beacons to home but warnings you’re near danger people always seem to forget that 」
Minors…………. Minors
hey
Dont interact like these characters it’s not cool or attractive in real life
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“I hate you.” Cried into a pillow between pleasured sobs.
“I know.” You replied softy, barely reaching Alastor’s ears from under the thick cushion he was gripping against his face. Even if the sound had made it firmly, it would have to get past the overwhelming drone of his own blood rushing through his body and humming in his ears.
Angel had been so kind to suggest to you some toys when you asked for advice on buying the right things. Nothing too big, but something that would leave a burning stretch even after it was taken back. Something for a beginner whose eyes were bigger than their stomach, so to speak.  You hadn’t told him why you needed them, which was for the best. Humiliating Alastor was more satisfying in your bed than in front of others. 
Your hand slowed it’s push and pull, distracted as your eyes fell to the heaving, fluffy chest of your indignant and infrequent lover. “You’re vile. A curse.” He said it much clearer now as he dropped the pillow. 
What an odd creature he was. A deer and a man and a demon. Both impractically weak in spirit yet remarkably powerful in brute strength. Clever yet unwise. Handsome and unkempt. 
His hips rutting back onto the glass dildo brought your eyes to his. Shining and wet as they peeked over the pillow. 
A fierce look betrayed by a knit brows that told you he was almost worried you were done.
Every time you took his control from him he seemed to melt further into your hands than the last time. 
Inversely, the time between visits was shortening. You didn’t mind it, but the spontaneity of his need was getting a little tiresome. He’d push you and you’d push back, you’d strip him bear and spread him open, and then he’d disappear in a huff. 
Though…. As his eyes rolled back in his skull you felt a tremor run down your spine. It wasn’t embarrassing him with his own base wants that was so enjoyable. Putting him in his place was great but no, that wasn’t entirely the main attraction.
The duality of man had always been of interest to you. Watching him pester and tease others was made so much more tolerable knowing he’d soon be crying for you to unravel him. Knowing how he shook and whimpered for you when no one else was around to hear it. Another shiver, such a powerful demon twitching in your fist. 
Since the first time you entered him you hadn’t been bothered with him fucking you. Which is what it was; fucking. Seraphim could appreciate pleasure but, well, it wasn’t much to a being who’d witnessed the creation of time. A lovely perk of existence, to be clear. But the high you could gather and ride from watching that cocky and oversure overlord wither under you was unmatched. 
You didn’t need him to touch you. You needed him to need you. Charlie was quite capable all on her own of reforming sinners, so you’d found yourself quite…aimless in hell. But when Alastor glared at you from across the room, cheeks an equally beaming red as his eyes, you felt a little more real. An angry lighthouse whose rocky shores you were happily sailing directly onto. A hopeful shipwreck. Stranded on his little island of self loathing and pride.
Alastor hated how little you spoke to him. Everywhere, not just when he was on his back or his knees. When your attention was fully on him he felt his skin burning with that golden light of your soul. Finally, the fires of hell had found him. 
An inferno cleansing him of his regrets and memories. How much more could he accomplish when the baggage of his human life was turned to ash?
Making you whine under him had proven fruitless. The blood was sweet but the wounds he left down your body healed too quickly for him to ever get his fill. Even then, you barely flinched. Though he did find the way you clawed at his flesh to stifle your moans was exhilirating. Never in life had he harmed someone good by any measure. But you weren’t good. You were, at best, complacent to Heaven’s cruelty. No matter how perfect your movements as you glided around the halls of the hotel, or how sweetly your voice formed every syllable of every stupid little thing you said to others, you were pure but not good. 
The sweetness of your voice was very rarely there for him in private. Saccharine tones crackled like gravel under his heels. Something just for him, a side of you that no one else had seen. A side you always turned on him when he acted up. 
He had been quite content to just annoy before your arrival. Then he was cruel to others, but that made you angry in a way that threatened to make you shut him out. 
So now he just haranged you and made underhanded comments that irked you. And then, when he was sure you were alone, he’d corner you and say something particularly sharp into your ear, hands gripping at whatever part of him he could get to first. 
And you’d push him down, and he’d fight knowing fully well it was pointless against your particular skills, and he’d ripped the carpets and the sheets as he scrambled from your touch….but never too far. Always making sure your long fingers could still reach him. A game. One where he was, for once, the prey. The hunted on purpose, not at the decision of anyone else but himself. 
How terribly he just wanted you to break him apart, fill him with your light and form him back again around you. Remake him in your image. 
The few people in hell who offered him a challenge were people he genuinely couldn’t stand being bested by. But for some reason, when your eyes lit up and your aura shattered all of his minions and appendages, it was satisfying. Finally. 
And when your hands ran down his stomach and kept going, he found his body responding eagerly. His mind got so quiet. His worries about power were taken from him with gentle fingers. He couldn’t best you, so why not relax? No way he could win so he just lied back and let go. 
In the silence and darkness of the headspace you offered him he found pleasure. He was small in your grasp. Not physically, of course. He could transform to stories above you. No, he was small in other ways. 
He worried endlessly how long he could keep you willing to play with him. Anger was exhausting, and he only ever seemed to need your wrath and control to get off properly. 
A worry you saw on his face before you began to move the toy in and out again quickly. Three large bumps that made every single thrust feel like three. A toy Alastor hated the sight of but loved the sensation of. 
He’d grown hard in your hand, dripping and twitching into you. A painful looking red as blood was rushing to his cock. It was so pretty on him. A color that suited Alastor. You gave him a squeeze, toy sunk to the hilt. You then gave it a shake, knocking against his spot with one of those bumps. A pained cry tore through the room before he returned the pillow to his face. 
You smiled, he was concerned someone would hear him. Would anyone even recognize it was him, given how no one in hell had ever heard such a sound come from Alastor?
“You’ve been less venomous today, Alastor. Haven’t called me a whore or trash a single time.” The toy pulled out so cleanly, his taut hole slipping over the clear glass effortlessly. Well, not effortlessly. The loud moans with every pull made sure you knew he could still feel everything perfectly fine. 
“Fuck you.” 
You hummed, squeezing again before leaving his cock entirely to hold up his thigh. Pushing his left leg up for stability, to began a much harsher pace with your toy. Stare fixated on the pillow, you wondered if you could make it combust with just the intense desire to see his expression in that moment. 
“Slower!” The word got louder as his head craned backward and partially escaped from under the soft shield he was gripping so tightly. When you didn’t reply or slow down Alastor tried to turn onto his side.
Your hand on his leg gripped the meat of his inner thigh and pulled him back down onto his back. Another whine, “It’s too fast.”
“Hmm, you didn’t listen to me earlier why should I listen now?”
He tried to sneer but you forced the dildo in deep, hilt flush and pressing into his skin with force. A moan so sweet and high you felt like you were watching a choir of one. Alastor hadn’t listened earlier when you told him he’d hurt Husker. He called him a gambling addicted kitty cat in front of the others, embarrassing him in front of Angel Dust. You told him he should apologize for it. He laughed and asked why he’d say sorry to a possession. 
And your ever present smile, the soft and sweet side of his sharp and wicked one, stayed sure as you logged the comment away. 
Now the words were in your muscles as you barely withdrew the toy before thrusting it back in harshly.
“He’s pathetic, and I own him. I can say and do what I want.” He fell back into the bed with a tremble down his chest. 
Your little chuckle brought his eyes to yours. The golden light they always shone on to him in the dim light of your room reminded him of summer days at noon. Everything went dark around you as he stared back, damaging his vision as he was blinded by your power. 
“Being unkind is not necessary, Alastor. I was just thinking the same about you, though.” You slid your hand down the back of his thigh to his ass and held him there. 
“You don’t own me.” 
Could you though? Was that an option?
“No?” Your smile glistened as he felt your hand go furhter down the curve of his cheeks, now onto his lower back, “Is this not mine?” Leaving the toy buried in him, your pointer finger dragged down his leaking cock head and shaft. “You hump into my hand so often I assumed you were giving it to me.”
With both hands under him and on his back, you lifted his hips off the bed and folded him in half. His lower body held up with your chest as you knelt against him, his hips nearly over his face as his body made a C shape. Your left hand pulled the dildo out entirely by the heart shaped handle, causing Alastor’s hands to fly to the pillow, teeth ripping into it.
“The lord’s voice makes the deer calve,” Your head lowered, tongue dragging over his used and puffy hole. A strident groan, bits of feather peaking out of the torn fabric of the pillowcase. He was bent deeper in half as you reached over and grabbed the pillow from his grasp. Tearing completely, it rained white feathers down onto the crumpled man. They stuck to the sweat slicked skin of his neck and forehead, but you couldn’t appreciate him for long as you lost sight of him from the angle. Your mouth returned to his twitching entrance, prodding roughly. 
His hands scrambled for something to grab ahold of, finding the blanket and digging claws deep enough to cut into the mattress itself. 
“And strips the forests bare.” Your left hand hand began to pump quickly and evenly on his member, already weeping and dropping precum onto his chest. 
The realization of what this position would do hit Alastor so quickly that he pulled a muscle in his back when he tried to sit up. Your free hand found one of his and settled over it, shushing him. His vision was just his own cock over him and your light filled expression from between his thighs. 
“In his temple everything says, ‘Glory.’” 
Returning your focus and tongue to him, you pressed in repeatedly. No resistance, your muscle much smaller than the widest point of the glass toy you’d been using. 
“Don’t-”, his hand was trembling under yours, words ground out as he clenched his teeth. 
Your tongue flattened and lapped salaciously between his cheeks, the unpleasant taste of lube disappearing as you licked him clean. Following up, you sucked one then both of his rising balls into your mouth. 
“Ffuuu-”, a silent scream as his body tensed. You felt the strong twitches rock your hand before he came. Just as he feared and you had intended, his thick seed fell onto his chest and chin. 
Lazily you licked up and to his swollen slit, sucking it clean as you lowered his body. As soon as he was down, both physically and physiologically, he pounced forward and knocked you back onto the bed. 
One hand on your neck, one wiping the cum off his face with the back of his hand, “You know I hate touching-,”
You smiled, “I do.”
His other hand came to your throat, but no pressure. He looked down at you, and you up at him. Grin manic, his shadow appendages whipped from his back and pinned your limbs down. But as they tightened and twisted around you, his hands stayed docile. 
“Should I not do that again?” Your face roamed his, his flash of anger only skin deep. A show, an act to keep up appearances for…well, no one. 
That smirk wilted on his face. 
You tested the strength of his tentacles on your arm but found he was genuinely restraining you, “If you don’t want me to do that again, just say so. I won’t.”
Alastor searched his mind for something, anything. But once again, like every time you spoke to him with an even and clear tone, he found nothing in his head at all. A flash of your eyes between his legs, the sensation of your tongue in places he hadn’t ever considered was all that seemed to answer him.
Your own smile widened, where the darkness of his power touched your skin a yellow light erupted. The shadows dissolved. Just a man holding you at the neck now. 
“You still can’t say what you want. It’s just us here. Are you truly so prideful? Even now, covered in your own seed?” 
A testing squeeze to your neck.
“Ah, I see. Back to playing Mr. Radio Demon. Well, if thats all then.” Too easily you sat up, knocking him off of you. 
A flourish of darkness, a pop of static and he sank away and out of your bed. Your eyes wandered over to his clothes on your floor. 
Clever but unwise. 
༻Masterlist༺
˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖
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tarjapearce · 1 year
Note
Lips anon! I think one of the most intimate moments between mother and child is the first hair wash. Especially for curly babes. I'm just imagining the wife remembering Gabi's first wash while doing Benji's. Gentle scrubs and lots of suds. She puts him to bed, and Miguel comes home from work. They decide to bathe together since both the kids have been put to bed. Then they have their own intimate moment with her washing and massaging his scalp and stuff lol just something really fluffy I thought of
THIS IS SO SWEET OMG ❤️❤️❤️.
And the perfect chance for them to makeup 👀
A bit long ❤️ Hope you like 🥹.
Sudsy hands gently massaged Benjamin's head, his little feet splashing water, reacting with an uneven toothy grin whenever you cooed him. You kneeled by the enormous bathtub as you bathed him.
His rubber raccoon floating next to him along some other toys. Long lashes twinkled with the warm water, chubby and full cheeks moved as your baby babbled.
"Oh, I like the soapy water too, specially when it's warm." You rinsed his head carefully removing the baby scented shampoo from his head.
"There you go" You wrapped him in a raccoon themed towel, a matching set you had gotten in the baby apparel section at the super. You dried him well, put on a diaper and some comfy pjs.
You heard Miguel's heavy steps on the bathroom, preparing the tub for his use as you put little Benjamin to sleep and kissed him goodnight. You checked on Gabriela and kissed her forehead before tucking her in the sheets and closed her window.
Kids were asleep, and you only had one space to go back to. Hesitant steps made you approach your room that for some reason had turned into a silent battlefield. Ever since the fight, the tension between you and Miguel had only strengthened; but were careful enough to be a subtle as possible about it, the least you two understood much was that your children were definitely staying out of whatever was brewing.
You closed the door as you rummaged through your drawer of pjs, looking for one to change into. He passed next to you, grabbing a towel but stopped in his haste. You were tiny next to him, but with the current state of your emotions, you felt away. Away from his touch, away from his warmth, away from him.
He hated himself for creating this rift between you, but loathed even more the fact that you were giving him space. Being at odds with you didn't sit right in his chest. And the three days you had spent away from echother, yet in the same bed, made his heart to beat painfully. He'd never forget the way you were tucked on your side, wiping tears, shielding from whatever word he was about to spill. He didn't sleep that night.
He felt your body stirring awake around seven, ready to prepare Benjamin's bottles and wake Gabriela up for school.
His massive back faced you as you said your good mornings. There was no kisses on his cheeks to wake him up, No hug from behind and the nuzzle of your nose on his neck. None of your feathery eyelashes tickling the skin of his cheek. Just a meek and distant Good morning.
Gabriela was too busy with school to actually notice the awkward and forced interactions between you two. And for once he was grateful that Benjamin was... well. A baby.
Seeing him tense next to you made you recoil even more to your spot, not wanting to trigger another fight. His jaw clenched as his throat constricted. Even though you had said that you weren't afraid of him, your body language acted so cautiously around him. Wary to not make anything that would get him talking to you like the night you fought.
He didn't know who was to blame, his rising and brewing anger, or Alonzo. He sighed snd looked at you.
"Can... Can you" He trailed, unsure of his question, "Can you join me at the bathtub?" his voice gentle and careful.
The question threw you off guard, you stared at him for a couple of seconds and nodded.
He threw a couple of lavender bath bombs, your favorites, in the bathtub as the foam bubbles were rising. You removed your clothes and wrapped yourself in a towel. You were the first one in getting in. He joined you a couple of minutes later. You were across him, the foam almost engulfing you as he sat in front of you.
The warmth of the water made your tense muscles to relax slightly. His hand caressed your forearm and pulled you closer to him. Face to face as some water splashed on the floor. He was warmer than the water, a touch you had longed for the past three days.
Tears welled up in your already glossy eyes, he cupped your face and wiped out your eyes.
"Im sorry." His forehead colliding softly against yours, breath fanning over your lips.
"I just... What is going on, Miguel? Have... I done something-"
"No. no. Far from that. I've been an idiot. Me he comportado como un completo imbécil y en el proceso te lastimé. También a Gabi." (I've been an ass and I hurted you and Gabi in the process.)
You didn't have to know spanish at full to know he was admitting his mistakes.
"Im just worried, Miguel. I don't know what is bothering you or where this anger comes from, but... seeing you punching that man-"
"Scared you?"
"A bit. Yeah."
He casted his gaze down, shame washing over him.
"It's... so much going on that, seeing that man touching you was the last straw. My job is transferring me to another unit without consulting me, the house renovations are surely taking a good chunk of the savings, and... Gabriel is just... he barely talks to me anyways."
You grabbed a washcloth and soaked in showel gel, then began gently lathering up his torso with it, as if washing away his worries.
"Maybe he is just busy, you both have demanding jobs."
"I don't feel like I'm doing a good job as a husband and a father." he blurted
You nearly gasped at his confession, and cupped his face, conveying all your love with a single touch.
"Mostly of the time I come home you're ready to put Benjamin on his crib, Gabriela is too tired to play and... you." You shook his head and kissed him.
"No. Don't say that, please." you broken voice made his eyes snap at you.
"Gabriela and Benjamin love you. So do I. Is because you work so hard we try our parts as well. We try making things easier on you because I know it's hard."
"Still isn't an excuse to hurt you and my daughter."
"All I am asking is for you to tell me when something is bothering you. We are a team, Miguel." Your hands made him look at you, and you kissed him softly.
"I am here. I am your wife. We are a team. We don't do things solo anymore okay?"
He took your hand and kissed it, then twirled you around so your back was resting against his broad chest. His frame engulfing you.His arms securing you as his lips kissed your side of the head.
"I hate when we fight."
"Hm. Same." you nodded as your fingers entwined with his.
"I promise to do better. To communicate more."
He grabbed the washcloth and gently washed your arm to then kiss your neck
"Can't lose you over stupid shit."
"You won't. I love you too much to give you up so easily." His hands gently caked a bit of your rose scented shampoo on your head, dexterous fingers massaging your scalp with devotion. His chest finally got rid of that constricting and choking feeling.
"Still, I'm sorry."
"I accept your apologies. I'm sorry too. Should have talked to you sooner instead of just... letting this to grow bigger."
He nipped at your earlobe and kissed your cheek, peppering it in affection.
"We good?"
"Only if you massage my shoulders." he chuckled at your petition and squeezed you tighter against him.
"Te amo, chaparrita." (I love you, little one.)
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