wholoveseggs · 2 days ago
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How I look camping ⛺️ your page everyday waiting for you to post… like your writing is so good and I’m so obsessed with it. 💜 But about Kol and I guess the other Mikaelson boys (minus Finn),, they’re all scary in their own ways.
With Klaus he’s scary because of his rage and his plans,, you can immediately tell when he’s angry because he makes it known through his throwing things and shouting.
For Elijah, he’s calm and collected and that’s what makes him scary, you don’t know how he’s truly feeling or going to react because he hides it so well. I don’t remember the exact scene but it was in the originals I believe where you could like see the rage on his rage and that too is scary because he’s so angry in that moment that he isn’t even attempting to hide that rage.
For Kol (my love), he’s a wild card, a loose cannon. He can be violent but he can also be gentle as seen with his relationship with Davina. I just think his personality is so fun and intriguing. There is absolutely no reason for a vampire, an original at that to be using a baseball to beat people but he does just because he can?? does this make me crazy?? maybe a bit?
a common misconception i see a lot is when Kol is undaggered and Klaus backs away from him. this is for two reasons… yes, i believe Klaus was nervous of Kol being awake again because he knows his brother is a loose cannon but also because it meant that the others were likely awake as well and perhaps he could fight one of them but he definitely couldn’t find all of them at once.
no matter though because both Kol and Klaus can admit that Elijah is the “scariest” so your love wins that contest~ 💜
Hello again darling camping anon! I have so much to say on this subject.... like SO MUCH. So buckle up.
I think the fundamental difference between the three of them is how they react to and experience control. It's simultaneously an emotion, a situation and a choice. And something that all three of them couldn't really have growing up.
They are all victims of domestic violence, and each one is dealing with it differently. (And not in a healthy way at allllllllll. They absolutely continue the cycle of abuse...)
First we have Klaus, (The iconic little shit that he is)
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He clings to control like a lifeline. Being the most helpless as a boy, he has always felt that if he was stronger, had more power, he could keep those around him safe. He believes that the only way he can feel safe is if he's in control. So, in his mind, any time someone takes that from him, they are actively trying to harm him. He will fight for control over everything and anything. His family, his city, his art and (most importantly) his life. His need to control the narrative around him and keep his secrets, is born out of the trauma and fear that his father instilled in him. His rage is born out of his own sense of helplessness.
Joseph Morgan does an excellent job of conveying that pain. Klaus is always a bundle of anxiety and panic and fear, no matter how he's acting. He's hyper vigilant and constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for someone or something to try and control him again. It's why he clings so desperately to control, because he never wants to be made a victim again.
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Second we have Elijah, born after the loss of Freya. I've always viewed him as a tragic character, who seems to be nobody's favorite in the family, but also the glue that holds them together. He's burdened with being the adult in the room. I can imagine that Esther's grief and guilt around losing Freya sort of imprinted on to him. She probably saw him as a replacement for the daughter she lost, putting all this pressure on him to be perfect, while simultaneously giving him no agency to be his own person. His entire childhood was spent either protecting his siblings or taking care of his mother's emotional needs. (This also applies to Finn, who i'll talk about later)
His relationship with control is nearly equal to Klaus'. He's always been a peacemaker, the level headed, calm brother. Always trying to bring harmony between his siblings. And while he has a much different way of expressing his feelings, he is a victim of the same violence that the rest are.
But, what makes him the scariest is the fact that his anger is silent. Elijah doesn't show his emotions, he represses them. And then when his control snaps, it's like a damn bursting. You don't see it coming, because he's so good at hiding his anger (& all of his other feelings). But when it's there, you feel it. And it's terrifying. Because his anger is fueled by pain and a lifetime of having to be strong. It's a glimpse at a deep well of pain that you realize he has been hiding all along.
Daniel Gillies absolutely nails this simmering rage with his eyes. Somehow that man can convey every single emotion without saying a word. When he looks at his family, or a person he cares for, there is this warmth and kindness. But when he looks at a person he is angry at, a person who has hurt someone he cares about, you can see the light almost dim, and his eyes will become cold and dark. You can feel the danger and rage in them. It's a delight to watch.
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Third we have Kol, who is a complicated and messy character. Kol was born into a family that already had a system and a hierarchy, and he was pushed aside and ignored. Nobody's favorite, nobody's first choice. He grew up angry and frustrated, feeling unloved and unheard. He looks to his older brothers and their relationship with control, and takes the proverbial baseball bat to it. If they couldn't love him the way he needed them to, then he would make sure that they would at least remember him. So he becomes the black sheep, the outcast. He's wild and chaotic, doing whatever he can to get attention. He doesn't really care about control, because he never had any growing up. I have always viewed his bloodlust as an allegory for addiction. His response to the violence of his youth is to numb the pain with the rush of adrenaline and power. To take from others what was taken away from him.
His rage is the loudest and the quickest to come to the surface. He's not one to stew, he's quick to fight and fast to burn. Which is why his relationship with Davina is so good for him. She loves him the way he needs, and rightfully calls out his bad behavior. As gross as it sounds, she's kind of the mother figure that his actual mother never was. (IM SORRY I KNOW ITS VERY FREUD OF ME .... BUT AM I WRONG????)
I'm not going to bash any acting... But I think Daniel Sharman captures Kol much better. His complicated relationship with death, control and magic is portrayed beautifully. Especially the scene where he is dancing with Davina before he dies. It shows real growth on his part, no longer the baby brother, no longer the victim and the victimizer. In that moment he's the protector, trying to shield his girl from grief. And it always makes me tear up ...
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(This scene always makes me laugh, I truly believe Elijah is the funniest character)
And last, we have Finn. Who I love to make the butt of the joke here on this blog. But I do have a few things to say about his character.... Which is.... He isn't really a character. But an object.
They drag the poor man out to show the audience what bad thing can happen to an original. First with his death in TVD, teaching everyone about the white oak stake and sirelines. Second in TOG with Lucians deadly bite. He's just... Not written to be liked.. and it's never really explained why they kept him daggered for 900 years.
And with Finn... there is no control or lack thereof, because he has no agency. And his rage comes from the fact that he is a man out of time, with no one who cares about him.. And it makes his character all the more sad and pathetic.
They make him this bitter, angry villain. Trying to kill his niece, and they never justify exactly why. I think fear of Dahlia is a piss poor excuse. I would rather he lean into revenge for being daggered than trying to hold onto his righteous nonsense.
(But lets be so real here... its because the writers didn't want to give him any depth. They didn't want us to get overly attached, so they could use him as a low-stakes original vampire that demonstrates the actual deadliness of a weapon or person)
But!!!! Yusuf Gatewood is the absolute GOAT and his portrayal of Finn and his rage is just delicious. He almost reminds me of like a rabid preacher, the way he spits out his hatred and bitterness. But it's so fun and I enjoy it every time.
Anyways.... Sorry to hijack your message lol.. I just love to psychoanalyze crazy fictional men!
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toptophat · 3 days ago
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Goddamnit, Me!!! Why am I so confusing sometimes 😭😭
I realise I won't be able to wait that long I'd probably give up and do it halfway so when Shadow of A Ranger does pop up it's gonna be the second part!! Because this cyborg cowboy just lives rent free in my head and I don't know if he'll ever move out!!! (Pls don't move out! It's a pleasure to have you!! Just pay the gosh darn rent!!!)
SPOILERS FOR 2.6!!! IF YOU DON'T WANT THAT, SAVE YOURSELF!!!
First things first imma talk about the dreampeek call (which I'm surprised is legal, like what if a dream is too private?? 😅) so yeah, in summary, young Boothill is having dinner with his adoptive parents, the "Harsh Male Voice" confirmed to be Nick and the "Gentle Female Voice" which is most likely Graey. So during said dinner Nick is telling Boothill old cowboy tales to which Boothill would ask "To throw all that away to pursue someone who might not even exist, is it worth it?"
Doesn't that remind you of anyone?
Of course it does, cuz that's the exact kind of person the little Boothill would eventually grow up to be! He replaced his human parts for cyborg parts to evolve and grow stronger to chase an IPC scumbag who remains invisible in all but name. He sacrificed all of his happiness for this because justice needs to be served! I also find it interesting how, even in his dream, he can't bring himself to mention his real name... Almost as if he's punishing himself for being the one to survive, he feels as if he doesn't deserve that beautiful name and should instead embrace his role as the Boothill of his fallen home. He never even wants to think of that name because it's a reminder that his past self failed, that his past self was too weak to stop his home from being destroyed. It's like he feels unworthy of that humanity!And now that he's basically been reborn into the cyborg body, his humanity can no longer hold him back from his hunt!
After the young Boothill raises this question, Nick responds with "There ain't no reason needed for vengeance, only baddies need reasons" and yeah, that's true! Boothill never had to make excuses as to why he hunts the IPC, because his motive was always justified, they killed his family and his whole world, of course he doesn't need an excuse!!! And of course this dreampeek call foreshadows my new favourite Boothill scenes!!
The Assistanana therapy session!!! Or rather what it claimed to be one!! So in Boothill's POV he's asked some questions. One of which while less impactful at first, it makes you think, earlier he ordered 7 glasses of malt juice and drank a bit from each of them, passing it off as a habit, malt juice may not just be his go-to drink as a pass time but a comfort drink as a way to drink his sorrows away, it's one of the only things he has left in the world so he clings to it. And it's clear that he ordered 7 specifically because he always used to drink it with his family back then, perhaps now that they're gone, he drinks from each glass to sort of pretend that they're still here with him for a while? And now the Assistanana is asking him that if he gives up this comfort drink "will this make you worse off?" Giving up maybe the only time of bittersweet comfort he has...
The other question is more specific to his current struggle "For a person who has made revenge their sole purpose in life, what would happen if that hatred were to vanish?" Aside from this being the Assistanana's way of getting to Boothill, it does raise another question... Yeah! Boothill has dedicated his life to hunt down the IPC, if he succeeds in this hunt, what exactly will he do after? Sure, he could continue punishing evil but what is there for him to return to? He'd have no more grudges, sure but everything he ever loved is still gone... He'll have nothing to live for, just an empty shell of himself with no more purpose. I think it was also said that people give into Assistanana's words by choice. So Boothill wanted to give in, he wanted to be free of his burden, he wanted to be human again. He wants to have something to live for again! In fact he wants to be alive again... So he gave in...
And here's when things get bananas!!! March 7th interrupts the "therapy session" and tries to escape, the Assistanana blocks their way revealing that Boothill is still in that trance like state and when asked to shoot March 7th it's also revealed that the session had such an effect on Boothill that it set his mind several years into the past, the past he could never bring himself to share. It was definitely an interesting decision to not show a child Boothill model, and I feel like this works, it isn't the way we're used to seeing Boothill act, he's rough, reckless, loud and extroverted, this man points his gun at people before he even decides to introduce himself, and let's not forget that, if not for the synesthesia beacon, he'd be swearing like a sailor!!
So seeing Boothill in the appearance we recognise juxtaposed with him talking as his past self: more innocent, gentle and polite, it definitely got me in the feels. And it shows that his mind was messed with to the point where it escaped to a place he never thought he'd go to again... And this is also the first time he mentioned "Aeragan-Epharshel" and Nick in years and we obviously know why he'd feel uncomfortable bringing it up! But let's see what the young Boothill says about his home world
"Death is the fairest form of grace" especially in battle, when one dies in the heat of conflict they'll be buried right there in the ol Boot Hill. Our man has been longing for this grace ever since Oswaldo Schneider (istg we better get to kill this ugly "thing" soon!!) took his paradise away. Boothill kept on hoping that he'd enter a permanent rest during the surgery. He feels disgraced from the fact that he lived when it could've been any of his loved ones, even his little girl that just started to walk for the first time, she never got to even experience life to understand death, perhaps it wasn't so fair at that moment, remember, Boothill doesn't consider himself to be completely alive, so maybe this form of death wasn't graceful at all
Hmmm, a part of me feels as if that wasn't just the young Boothill talking in those moments... Think about it, he still knew that the Assistanana couldn't be trusted, after all "only baddies need reasons" how even though he became a much more innocent version of himself, his spirit stays the same, perhaps he's always been in tune with himself, sure, he's much more aggressive as an adult but as much as he tries to hide it, he has a good heart, inspiring people to try new things (Robin), making up for first impressions (Luka) and cheering on friends (Rappa) it's also a nice touch that his younger self (in the image) is seen wearing accessories that our Boothill still wears! I remember seeing somewhere that Boothill may have had the sharky teeth even as a child, if that's so then maybe Boothill is more in sync with himself than he'd prefer to say, perhaps Boothill was even letting down his guard willingly, letting himself be vulnerable for a moment to finally get a clear shot? He definitely wanted that escapism but he knows that it's never gonna be real. Because it seems like the past Boothill and our Boothill aren't so different, it's just that our guy is dead set on his sole mission in life, and he's definitely not gonna let some fake euphoria distract him. Perhaps I was wrong, his old self didn't die on Aeragan-Epharshel, it simply adapted, inhabiting this new body and maintaining the new guy's humanity and kindness!
And then he proceeds to go apeshit on the Assistananas and Slumbernana monkeys!! As payback for trespassing in a place where they absolutely were not welcome! I think that was both Boothills in that moment because seriously, wtf Assistanana leave my boi alone!!!! Truly my favourite part of 2.6, heck even the entire game so far!! (I'm not biased) I'm just obsessed with his journey and I can't wait to see how it gets resolved, especially when all Boothill mains can collectively murder and torture Oswaldo 😁
It's just fun to put down my disorganised interpretation of things!
Edit: HOLY BABY!!! HE DID HAVE HIS SHARKY TEETH AS A CHILD!!!
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mithomite · 7 months ago
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had the most braindead repetitive conversation/argument with my parents. buzz cuts are too masculine but if you dye a design on it it become effeminate which is bad because then you look weak and if youre weak then society falls apart (all societies ever that have fallen apart for any reason are actually because of feminine men) and we start sacrificing babies. and also all mental illness is invented because only 4 people had anxiety in the 90s and covid was made up so that we would all become gay and trans and then the government can control us better and be joe biden's little sex slaves. and also i need to keep my hair long because my father finds it attractive. what
#lolaa.txt#what do i even tag this with . my mother wouldn't let me leave and i kept asking for sources and she kept saying 'i'm your mother!!!'#'i wouldnt lie to you!'#okay. say that to someone maybe who doesnt know you lie to them all the time.#its tiring going around in circles with her.my father is better because at least he admits when he doesnt have a reason for feeling some wa#also what got me. she said 'do you own research if you want!! but im right!!!'#yeahh not seeing anything about anything you just said. i think you made that up.#i have a theory that my mother secretly hates herself because she believes all women are weak and must serve strong men#and my father has so so much trauma and anxiety that he cant be that strong man#so now she feels like shes betraying her very biology when she has to step up.#and also because i am stronger than her now and my hair is long and far far denser than hers and i have a younger face#that she feels that im wasting my precious femininity that she could be using. does that make sense.#shes so miserable trapped in her idea of what makes a man and a woman what they are. once you stop caring about what makes someone somethin#you dont have to worry about anyone else.#im queer because i dont really feel that connection to biological and social ideas of gender that my parents seem to#never really have#im not gonna theorize 'ohh shed be happier nonbinary' or stuff like that because it is up to you and you alone to define who you are#if you spend your whole life trying to fit a box for the sake of fitting the box#then when would you have any space for self discovery#youve invented personality traits to go along with your box. now you can never ever change or grow as a person. congrats#and you know what? one day she will die. and that will be the end of that.#and i will live and i will probably shave my head a thousand times. and come up with new names#and new ways to be a better person that makes me feel happy#and i will dress like a boy because its all made up anyways. who cares.#and if you care? that much about what im wearing or how i look?#then thats your problem and i wont be responsible to maintain your happiness.#SORRY RANT OVER.#im just so flabbergasted. what a sad life someone can lead poisoned by jealously and reactive rhetoric.#tw homophobia#tw transphobes
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hedgehog-moss · 7 months ago
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The great thing about having no internet for a couple of weeks is, you get so much stuff done. I've made great strides in my fight against invasive plants in the pasture!
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^ This large rock used to be lost in a sea of broom, you couldn't even see it.
It's a lot more fastidious now that I'm uprooting plants one by one with the root slayer instead of clearing the whole area with a brushcutter, but hopefully they'll no longer be able to sneakily bide their time underground and then grow back even stronger from their intact root system.
I took some in-progress pictures—don't these invasive plants look like a retreating army?
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We've had a tiny bit of April snow—I don't know if I can call it that, the air just felt icy and wet and tangible, if I opened my mouth I could feel snowflakes fly into it but nothing was actually falling on the ground. It felt like being repeatedly enveloped then dismissed by clouds that had made plans to drop their snowflakes elsewhere.
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But every time I saw Pandolf he looked like a starry night, so there really were snowflakes in the air!
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It felt very satisfying to come home with my face and hands all numb and warm up by stuffing entire wheelbarrows' worth of broom into the wood oven then throwing a match. Ever since I've learnt that this plant attracts ticks, burning it has felt like defeating two enemies at once. I listen to the lovely little crackling sounds of a broomfire and picture hundreds of ticks popping like popcorn.
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My animals didn't enjoy being stuck inside snow clouds all day—I saw the llamas use their shelter for once, and Pandolf politely asked to come in and sit by the fire instead of staying out to collect more snowflakes in his fur, so I think they were all already in spring mode in their minds.
Merricat also (less politely) asked for shelter, but Merricat treats every instance of wet weather like a national scandal that I personally failed to prevent.
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Even the hens wanted to come sit by the fire, and when I said no (you are hens), one of them ignored me and walked in, resolutely, clucking for the younger hen to follow her, like "let me teach you how it's done".
You know when you want to eat a crêpe in a crêpe restaurant in Paris and the waiter looks baffled that you envisage to buy food in his food establishment and he says no that won't possible, and you're like these people over there are having coffee they're almost done we'll just wait inside for their table!, and (with mounting horror) he says no no no if you really insist on giving us your money then you must wait in the street for the privilege, and watch the diners through the window like little orphans, and then your more assertive, confident friend militantly walks in anyway, encouraging you like, come on he's not gonna call the police, we're about to pay 12€ for 1 crêpe I think we can wait inside thank you very much—because a dismissive aristocratic aplomb is the only attitude that'll get you a table in a crêperie in Montparnasse sometimes? It was pretty much this dynamic. Between me and my hens.
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 4 months ago
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You Made A Mess Of Me
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader
Warnings: mentions of sexual activities, angst, but happy ending. I actually love this sm I'm in my Lewis era and I can't stop myself
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The penultimate weekend in June meant only one thing, the Spanish GP. You've been thinking for days whether you should go, after all, too much time has passed since the last time.
You knew that your coming there would cause a huge public reaction and that some people might not be happy to see you, but you couldn't resist. Your curiosity was stronger than you and something you could never fight against.
The last time you attended the GP, you were in a slightly different role than you were now, some would say more important role. That was 2 years ago when you were reputed to be the most popular wag in the paddock. Lewis Hamilton's girlfriend. His greatest support and the woman who he dedicated every victory to.
To Lewis, you were the woman he loved more than life, his everything and more. He proudly presented you to everyone, always mentioned you in interviews, saying that you were his strength and motivation for all his success. When you couldn't attend his races, he was always in a hurry to come back to you, holding you like a drop of water in the palm of his hand.
His love for you could not be described in words. You were the "it couple". Lewis made it well known to everyone that you were his. He really was madly in love with you.
You loved him too. He taught you what love means, he taught you how to love, showed you what love really is. You felt safe next to him and you knew that with him you had everything a woman could want. When you cheered him on at the races, you were the loudest, his most faithful cheerleader who experienced every victory and every defeat together with him.
Everything was perfect until one day when Lewis started hinting that he wanted to take your relationship one step further. Given that you were 25 at the time and he was 37, you knew that he was at the age when he wanted a family and children and he let you know that he wanted that with you.
You panicked, inexplicable anxiety gripped you, you weren't ready to "grow up" completely. You loved him very much, but you also loved yourself and that's why you didn't wanna settle for something you weren't ready for.
You felt that you still wanted to develop yourself as a person before marrying someone, you still wanted to travel with your friends, have fun, enjoy life and youth. You knew you didn't want marriage then, but you also didn't want to make Lewis wait for you and suffer in some way. You wanted him to be happy and achieve everything he wanted, even if it wasn't with you.
And so your perfect three-year relationship came to an end. You moved to Spain, disappeared from Lewis's life overnight and he never heard from you again. Despite his best efforts to reach you and find you, he couldn't. You left him completely heartbroken, desperate, lost, he just wasn't the man he used to be. His world has changed since you left his life.
Later, all the pain and hurt he carried inside him turned into immense anger and rage towards you. You even thought he started to hate you. You knew about it because you heard that in one interview he said, when he was asked about y/n, that that name no longer exists for him.
That's why now that you were invited by Tommy Hilfiger as a special guest to the Spanish GP, you doubted whether it was wise to go.
You didn't really care about the public's reaction, but you were a little afraid of Lewis's reaction. You were afraid to see the contempt in his eyes for you. But still, above all, you were a determined, smart and self-confident girl who knew her values ​​and knew what she wanted. And that's why you accepted the invitation.
Everyone's jaws dropped to the floor when you stepped into the paddock wearing black sunglasses in a tight strapless black dress that perfectly accentuated your curves. You caught everyone's eyes.
As well as the eyes of a man who could not forget you.
"Lewis, I don't wanna upset you before the race, but..she's here." Bono said quietly.
"Who is here?" He asked cluelessly with furrowed eyebrows.
"I-I.." Bono stammered.
"Bono, who is here?"
"Y/n..She's in George's garage."
Lewis froze. His heart dropped and legs buckled when Bono said your name. He thought someone was playing a joke on him, so after a minute of standing still without blinking and the initial shock, he had to go see for himself what he heard.
"Lewis, I don't think it's a good idea to-" Bono tried to stop him, but there was no point in trying to do that. Lewis didn't think for a second, he just sprinted towards his teammate's garage, his racing suit half unbuttoned hanging behind him. He had to see you with his own eyes to believe that you were actually there.
The moment he ran into the garage and saw you there, at first he couldn't believe his eyes, but when you took off your glasses and looked at him, everything came back to him in a second, all the memories, but also the anger.
Your legs went numb as well, your heart fluttered, but you didn't dare to approach him or say anything. The whole room fell silent as the two of you looked at each other. Everyone knew about the two of you and there was an awkward silence that was broken by Lewis himself when he left after half a minute of standing still.
It was minutes before Lewis was supposed to get into the car and he barely recovered from seeing you. He couldn't think straight, and the race was about to start. You here, was the last thing he needed.
At first he couldn't focus, all he thought about was you, but somehow he managed to shift his thoughts to the anger and rage he felt towards you and it woke up that beast in him that he was on the track and after a long long time Lewis finished as the winner of the race. And all thanks to you, although not because he was happy that you were there, but because he decided to take out his anger on the track.
You followed the race with folded hands hoping for the best result from Lewis and when you saw that he finished P1, you didn't show it too much, but there was no an end to your happiness. Your eyes watered and you proudly watched him celebrate. For a moment everything was like before, only in reality, nothing was like before.
In the evening you decided to go out with your friends and of course there were also F1 drivers in that same club, among them Lewis of course, who were celebrating his victory.
You wanted to, but you didn't approach him. You decided to have fun with your friends, you danced and basically acted like he wasn't even there even though you could feel his eyes on you the whole night following who was around you. And since this was Lewis' night he had too much to drink and decided to approach you himself the first moment he saw you headed for the toilet.
Before you stepped into the toilet, you felt a strong grip on your arm pulling you out. You turned around only to see Lewis' bloodshot eyes staring at you.
"Lewis? W-what are you doing?" You stammered.
"You better go outside with me if you don't want me to make a scene here in front of everyone." He said sternly through clenched teeth and that's why you decided not to resist. Attracting bad attention was the last thing you needed.
Of course all eyes were on the two of you as Lewis dragged you out of the club, you just couldn't avoid it. Once you stepped out he took you to the place behind the club where there were the fewest people.
"Did you come today to mess with my head or what?" He spat out.
"I was there on business, not because I wanted to" You half lied.
"Please" He scoffed. "How dare you show up after two years and just before the start of the race? How dare you play with my head like that?" He asked what you were most afraid of before coming.
You gulped before starting a sentence, but he cut you off "I-"
"You fucking put me through hell and back when you left and then one day you just decided to come as a guest out of nowhere?"
"Lewis, I-"
"And then you went out knowing that I'll be there, and you decide to dance and have fun with other guys in front of me as if I wasn't there? You have no fucking shame!" He growled. You understood his anger and it hurt you, it almost made you cry, but you knew this was the alcohol in his system talking.
"As far as I remember, we have not been together for two years" You say fighting to keep your voice from cracking.
"Oh yeah, and about that. Do you feel good knowing that you killed me when you left?" He asks. "You fucking disappeared for your own selfish reasons. Do you know what you did to me when you left my life? You fucking ruined me, y/n!" He screamed in your face and it hurt like hell. "How could you do that to me? I was ready to give you everything, I would've taken the stars out of the sky if you had asked me to, and you did what? You fucking left!"
"I am very well aware of what I did and why. You have no idea how hard it was for me to make that decision, but I wasn't ready to give you what you wanted."
"Yeah, you weren't ready because you still wanted to fuck other guys right?" He insulted, but you couldn't let him talk like that about you because that was far from the truth.
"Don't talk to me like that!" You threatened.
"And why not? Because the truth hurts you? Do you even realize that you were everything to me? I was ready to give it all for you, fuck, I lived for you, y/n! We had a perfect relationship, the kind of that many dreamed of and you ruined it all!"
"I knew what you wanted and I wasn't ready to give you that, Lewis! I was too young and I didn't want to make you wait because I saw in your eyes how much you wanted it!" You couldn't take it anymore. You broke into tears right in front of him. "I didn't leave because I stopped loving you, but quite the opposite because I loved you too much to deny you what you want"
"But I wanted it with you, fuck!!" He screamed clutching his head. "If you weren't ready then, I would have waited for you because I didn't want a family with anyone but you! But you didn't even let me explain it to you because you disappeared from the face of the earth!" He spoke breathlessly.
"I'm sorry..I don't know what else to tell you. Hurting you was the worst thing I could do, I realize that." You cried.
He stepped closer to you and put his cupped your cheeks. "I fucking lived for you, y/n, and you made me a mess of a man" He almost sobbed.
"I suffered too, don't think I didn't. Leaving you was the hardest decision I ever had to make."
"And yet you still did. Getting over you was by far the hardest thing ever. I'm Lewis fucking Hamilton. It's not in my mentality to break down over someone that much and let it completely take over my life and yet you managed to do that to me" He allowed his emotions to overwhelm him and now he was crying too while leaning his forehead against yours. "Please, leave. I don't ever wanna see you again."
His words broke you all over again although you could've expected it, somehow you hoped it wouldn't come to that. He released you from his grip, wiped his tears, composed himself and walked back to the club leaving you outside completely broken and in tears.
You had no choice but to go to the hotel where you were staying at. You didn't feel like having fun or anything anymore, you just wanted to get away from everything and cry your heart out in the silence of your room.
You cried quietly in the taxi all the way to the hotel then you continued in your room. It was already 3 in the morning when you found the strength to take off your makeup and lie down in bed.
All you could think about was did you really make such a mistake by leaving Lewis? You knew you hurt him, but you had no idea to what extent. You lay down in bed and prayed to God to take all your pain away because it was unbearable. The fact that it was your fault hurt even more.
After you left and Lewis returned to the club, he continued to drink and think of you. He knew you left crying and despite everything you did, knowing you were in pain made him hurt even more.
Lewis being Lewis, he found his sources and forced them to tell him which hotel you were staying at. He couldn't help himself, he needed to see you. After all, you were the love of his life. He knew there was no one else for him except for you and that's why he headed towards your hotel and after many threats at the reception he finally got your room number.
You weren't sleeping, you were lying and looking at the ceiling when you heard knocking on your door. At first you were scared, but approached the door anyway asking who it was.
"It's me. Open the door." Lewis said leaning his forehead against the door.
You opened the door not expecting him at all. You couldn't believe he was right there in front of you. You didn't know how he got to you, but at that moment you didn't even care. All you cared about was that he was there.
"Lewis?" You asked quietly as you opened the door. "What are you doing here?"
"To be completely honest, I have no fucking idea." He spoke. "I knew you left crying, and even though you didn't deserve it, I couldn't take it." He stepped in closing the door behind him. You smiled softly through your tears and he moved closer until your back touched the wall behind you.
"I'm here because I still can't wrap my head around the fact that you're not mine" He said.
"If only you knew how much I'm still yours, Lewis"
"Well, unfortunately I don't know, because you haven't done anything for two years to show me that" He slurred putting your cheeks between his hands once again. "But I do know that you're gonna be the death of me" You squeezed your eyes shut at his words.
"Tell me if you have ever found someone who loved you more than me?" He asked.
"I haven't.." There was no point in lying to him. "I wasn't even looking for someone"
"Yeah you didn't and you know why? Because that's not fucking possible." He stated. "Nor have I found anyone who made me feel the things I felt with you. Remember how I always used to hold you close to me while I was fucking you? How I made you look me in the eyes when you were about to cum? How I used to hug your shaking body and press my head against your chest to feel your heartbeat? Do you?"
"I do." You nodded squeezing your thighs a little. Even though you were hurting you couldn't help but get turned on by the things he was saying. Your relationship was full of passion and the sex was the best you ever had. You missed it, you have to admit.
"I can't even call it fucking because I was making love to you." His lips were only inches away from yours and all your attention was focused on them. Your eyes begged him to kiss you.
"I thought I was over you and I could live without you, but then you came back into my life and you messed with my mind once again. You can't do that shit anymore, y/n" He said moving his hands from your face down to your hips tightly gripping them.
"You don't have to live without me anymore because I swear I'm ready to give you everything I couldn't before." You say wrapping your arms around his neck. "I was so wrong, Lew. I miss you. I miss your touch, I miss what we had"
He didn't say anything but finally connected his lips with yours. He kissed you so passionately, so eagerly it brought life back to both of you. He gripped your butt and made you jump up wrapping your arms around his torso. Without breaking the kiss he led you towards the bed gently lying you down, him being on top of you.
"Please, don't make me regret this" He said exhaling in short breaths.
"I'm yours, baby. I've always been." You said breathlessly. "It’s just the two of us I promise..”
816 notes · View notes
moonreader1010 · 4 months ago
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Pac: how people perceive you<3
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Note: 1. take what resonates.
2. Take a deep breath. Ask your spirit guides to help you choose the pile and choose the one that calls out to you.
3. Pictures used are from Pinterest. All rights go to the original owner.
Pile 1:
She'll put you in a trance at first glance
Don't wanna fall in love, but I'll take a chance
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straight up I got vision of this one picture that I saw on Pinterest a while back. It was a rabbit in an armour with some sort of spikey weapon and it said “soft but not available for mistreatment”. Very do not harm but take no shit vibes. I see major cancer placements. You can tame anyone. I keep getting beauty and the beast vibes. Like, you know how to tame people. People listen to you but I don’t see and boss employee kind of relationship but more like a goddess and her followers kind of relationship. I see you being hurt in the past. Was growing up difficult baby? Did someone hurt you? I wanna hug you right now. You are an inspiration. You are a warrior and you are so so strong and wise. I feel like we are getting away from the actual question of the reading but I feel like someone wanted me to tell you this hahah. So onto the question that how people perceive you, I think they can tell that you have been through something that changed you. Made you stronger and wiser. People definitely see you as someone who will nail the trope of “taming the bad boy” haha. But ofcourse remember that it’s not your job to fix anyone and I feel like you already know this. People see you as someone who dances in the rain, confident (lots of cards show me the theme of confidence actually), hopeful. They also see you as this boss lady (gender neutral). They see you as someone who is busy building empires.
Additional: student, business, garden, summer dresses, flowers.
Song: Dangerous woman by Wieland
Pile 2: You wear that cast so cool
And I'm in awe
A face like you've never seen before
Around
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people see you as someone who is constantly moving(it could be traveling or you know, making moves generally) you are not a still entity. You are always doing something. People see you as someone who is very private and mysterious. It’s hard to know anything about you. Moon seems to be really significant for some reason. People also see you as someone who cuts people of very quickly. No bullshit kinda person. You can deal with absence but won’t take disrespect. You are an achiever. People see you as someone who is constantly trying to learn something. You are open to experiences. You walk away from a situation that doesn’t serve you and that’s what many people admire about you. Young hear and old soul is what I keep hearing. People feel like they can come to you for help and also see you as someone who is very sensible.
Additional: wood, earth signs, moon, 3, heart on your sleeves, white flowers, driving far away.
Songs for you: Ever (foreign sleep) by team sleep.
Pile 3: Baby, this is what you came for
Lightning strikes every time she moves
And everybody's watchin' her
But she's lookin' at you,
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people see you as someone who works really hard. They see you as someone who is very responsible and completes tasks like a pro. They see you as a leader. Is acts of services you love language? People feel like they can always count on you. You are always there to help people. You honestly are a great leader you know? Some people seem to see you as a rival. A competition. You make people competitive pile 3. People see you as someone who is very faithful. You are almost untouchable to people. You seem to be on an entire different level that they cannot reach. People see you as someone who is smart and has a way with words. You seem like someone who would do great in negotiations and business exchange lol.
Additional: ships, sea, commerce, green,
Song for you: this is what you came for by Calvin Harris and Rihanna. (Very Rihanna energy lol)
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surielstea · 5 months ago
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Desperate Males
1k celebration request!
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Pairing: Poly!Batboys x Fem!Reader
Summary: Morrigan convinces Reader to indulge in her fantasies with the three winged Illyrians, the ones that the reader resents for the way they treat her home court, the hewn city.
Warnings: smut | minors dni | 18+ only | p in v | riding | mating press | multi-orgasm | dirty talk | foursome (f, m, m, m) | and probably a lot others
A. Note: Thank you my lovely Lex (@lexluvswriting) for helping me finish this because I was STRUGGLING but I’m happy with how it turned out in the end :)
8.1k words .. half of it’s smut, whoops.
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Rita's was packed full of lusting fae and grinding figures, every single body in the pleasure hall was glistening with sweat beneath the dim lighting as they continued to rut against each other.
I was sat in the corner of the building, at a small booth I was sharing with Morrigan, gossiping about our relationship issues over a few too many glasses of wine.
Mor was one of the only people I could tolerate ever since Rhys dragged me out of the Court of Nightmares and to Velaris. I hadn't had much of a choice, the moment he found out I was his mate, he felt some form of entitlement to me, he was fortunate he wasn't ripping me away from anything special, less fortunate when he realized I held the mating bond with his two best friends as well. All three of them, sanctioned to me, a female who had no intention of ever accepting any of their bonds.
Mor was from the hewn city as well, born and raised in that wretched court. It made it easier to talk to her, she understood what I meant when I said it felt like I was living a lie, too good to be true and she knew what I meant when I tried to explain my fear of the ever-imposing threat that it'd be ripped out right from under me at any moment. No one could truly understand the way she could, and though my resentment towards the inner circle was much stronger than hers, she made an effort to relate and be there for me.
"So, how are the boys?" Mor grins suggestively before taking a sip from her drink. I groan, slumping into my seat as I think about the three very annoying males she was referring to.
"Desperate," I grumble and she chuckles into her glass.
"How so?" She smiles, leaning onto her hand propped up by her elbow. "Give me some examples," She urges.
I shake my head with an eye roll, saying, "I don't have any." She gives me an undefeated look, a raise of her brows telling me she was waiting for me to go on. "The stories are too long," I argue but she still remains unwavering.
"Good thing we've got time," She leans back in her seat, getting comfortable as if she was prepared to stay in the pleasure hall with me all night. "Start with Rhys."
Rhysand had a tendency of showing up to the house of wind unannounced, quite a lot. So much so that the male has probably been in this house more than his own. To be fair, he was the one paying for it so I suppose this was just as much his house as any of his other residences, but ever since I started living here his visits began to grow personal. I've only been residing in Velaris for a few months now but he still made it his mission to see me at least every other day. Each time he welcomed himself into the large house he'd have some sort of gift with him, tonight was no exception.
I didn't startle when I heard the front door open, and I barely even flinched when his baritone voice crooned from the direction of the couch as I entered the sitting room. He had his long legs stretched across the couch, his head tilted back against the armrest, and his arms crossed over his chest.
"Evening, darling," He drawls and I look at him with an indifferent expression.
"It's the middle of the night," I grumble, going into the kitchen and grabbing a cup from the cabinet.
"I knew you were awake," He intoned and I rolled my eyes, filling my glass up with cold water.
"I'm about to go to bed," I claim, approaching the sitting room to look at him. He angles his head to meet my gaze, a sloppy smirk on his lips.
"Can I join?" He bats his eyelashes dramatically and I debate splashing my freshly poured water into his face. I decide not to, instead silently turning on my heel and retreating down the hallway. He shuffles off the couch and follows right behind me but I pay him no mind. I push open my bedroom door, leaving it open for his entry, because even if he agitated me it'd be a lie to say I disliked his attention. I was a simple female, and making him chase me like this so successfully was amusing, if not a little cruel.
"I have a gift for you," He informs in a sing-song tune.
"When do you not?" I say, placing my water down onto my nightstand and crawling into my large bed, Rhys had insisted on the size when we went furniture shopping so it could fit his wings, I had ignored his foolish assumption that he would ever sleep in my bed, but let him buy me the most expensive mattress anyway.
He reaches into a pocket dimension and removes a flat, rectangular, velvet box, one made for holding tiaras.
"I don't want your money Rhys," I sigh, watching as he situated himself on my bed, his long legs on either side of my hips, encasing me as I practically sit in his lap. "It's not money," He puts a hand up, waving me off. "I don't want your jewels or crowns either," I huff as he places the velvet box directly in front of me.
"It's not— just open it, will you?" His eyes plead with me more than his words. I stifle a curse and pick the ornate box up. It was heavier than I had been expecting, my brows crease as I slowly tilt the lid open, revealing what was inside. It wasn't money or gems, or even a fancy tiara, but a sleek dagger.
The hilt was solid obsidian, embellished with gold detailing, so well crafted it almost felt wrong to be in my hands. Deep red rubies adorned the top of the hilt in a teardrop shape, pointing up to the blade that's been polished to an impossibly sharp edge, Illyrian steel based upon the rich color of the metal. It was utterly elegant, in such a lethally arresting way.
I take the dagger from its confining box, my touch is delicate as I admire it from all angles, the blade moves so fluidly like the steel morphed into liquid when moving through the air. "You like it?" Rhys' voice breaks me from my trance and I grip the hilt a little tighter, looking up at him with an innocent gaze.
"It's unlike anything I've seen before," I murmur, still entranced by its beauty and the way it moved. He smiled at that, proud of himself for finding a way to impress me.
"It's an heirloom," He confesses and my expression drops, looking up at him.
"I can't take this," I immediately say, attempting to shove the dagger back into his hands.
"Sure you can," He sighs. "I have no use for it, and I heard you have a collection of pretty blades," He says, leaning back on his palms and ignoring the way I was haphazardly thrusting the dagger toward him.
"No, Rhys," I declare and his ears perk at the use of his nickname, he's been only Rhysand specifically for the last few months. "I can't, you're only doing all of this because we're supposed to be mates," I say. "I'm not worthy of your gifts, you're just blinded by the effects of the bond,” I say but my explanation must’ve failed to reach his ears because his smile simply remains.
"Darling, I'm a powerful male, if I didn't want the mating bond to affect me I wouldn't let it," He says cockily and I struggle to keep my eyes from rolling at his pride. "I'm doing this, because I want to, it's that simple," He places his large hands on mine, closing my fingers around the dagger. "But, if you don't want it then—" He starts and I shake my head hurriedly. "No, no I do want it," I grip his hands tighter and his brows raise a fraction. "Perfect," His smile returns, but his hands don't let go of mine and maybe for a moment I let myself indulge in his comforting touch.
"And you're telling me the two of you didn't fuck after that?" Mor questioned, an appalled look on her face as I ended my story about the High Lord.
"He gave me a blade, it wasn't exactly getting me hot and bothered," I scoff and she smirks.
"He could've given you another blade," She murmured under her breath but it wasn't quiet enough for me to miss. "Mor!" I look at her with wide eyes but she only snickers.
"Okay, I'm not totally convinced you dislike him, but tell me about Cass," She urges and I deadpan.
"Are you going to make sex jokes again?" I raise an assuming brow.
"No promises," She croons. "Now tell me about him."
Cassian loved to strut around half-naked. His shirt was often absent when I was around. It was an obvious ploy to swoop me off my feet, to get me drooling over his more than impressive abdomen and his arms that could crush my head in. And perhaps I did drool over him in the solitude of my bedroom, but I'd never let him know that.
I was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying my dinner when I nearly choked on my bite of food as Cassian strolled in, clad in nothing but pants and glistening in sweat from training. His hair was tied up in a messy bun that sat at the back of his head, a sword half the size of me slung over his shoulder in a sheath. I swallow my food with effort, my eyes unable to avert from every expanse of skin starting below his neck.
"Hey sweetheart," He says, kicking the front door shut. I snapped my gaze to his but the smirk on his face made it evident that he caught me staring. "Did you make dinner?" He asked, propping his sword up against the side of the counter. I didn’t make dinner, he knew that, because if I had I would be retroactively accepting the mating bond, he just wanted to put the idea in my head.
"Az did," I say through bites, the shadow singer beside me, silently reading a book, successfully not paying Cassian any mind unlike me.
"Is it any good or do you miss my cooking?" He asks with an amused smile, earning him a glare from the spymaster.
"It's delicious," I say, taking another large bite. I hadn't meant to indirectly compliment Azriel but he slightly smiled at my insult on Cassian, then returning to his reading.
The other male grumbled beneath his breath like a toddler throwing a fit as he made himself a plate that seemed more like a feast fit for a starving man, walking to the table and sitting down directly in front of me.
"You're not going to change?" I ask and he raises a brow and looks down at himself.
"Do you, want me to?" He said, slightly confused.
"Well, what if I started showing up to dinner shirtless?" I cross my arms with a scowl, Cassian's eyes light with amusement and Azriel begins to choke on his own air, muffling his coughs as he stuffed his face into his arms.
"I don't think we'd mind," Cassian winked at me and I looked down at my plate, silently cursing myself for walking right into that one.
"I just think it's bad table manners, is all," I murmur, leaning onto my hand as I roll my food over with my fork, playing with it aimlessly.
"If it has that much of an effect on you, I'll go change," He begins to stand and I whip my gaze up, staring at him with creased brows, not wanting him to think I was entirely bothered by it.
"It doesn't have an effect on me," I blurt out and a smirk curves his lips.
"Then I won't change," He sits back down.
"Fine," I say.
"Fine," He agrees.
Dinner went on a regularity from there, that was until I was clearly done with my food and I hadn't retreated to my room like usual, instead, I was far too distracted analyzing all the scars on Cassian's tanned skin, the ones that had stories behind them that I'd most likely never hear, the ones I would've never seen if he hadn't come home without a shirt.
His chest was on full display, rippling in muscle, a tight abdomen that would have me lying if I said my mouth wasn't watering when I stared at it for a moment too long. And gods, his arms made my thoughts wander beyond just arousal, it was more than a craving. My hands were practically shaking in my lap and I was just grateful they were beneath the table.
My eyes snag on a particular scar cutting across his ribs and up to his sternum, it must've been a mess of blood and gore when he got it, only for it to heal over as a simple line slightly darker than his skin tone, beautiful.
"I got it in a duel," Cassian said and I whipped my head up, locking eyes with him.
"What?" I say, my back ramrod straight, visibly embarrassed by the fact that I was just caught for staring so unabashedly.
"My scar," He places a hand over it, tracing two fingers down the raised skin with a practiced, rehearsed movement like he's down it thousands of times before. "It was from an angry husband, his wife neglected to mention she was married and he took some offense towards our, familiarity." He explained. "Insisted on a duel," He shrugged, and I blinked in slight shock.
"You, lost a duel?" I said like the idea was obscene. "Aren't you considered one of the best swordsmen on the continent?" I raised a brow and he shrugged.
"Seemed like the right thing to do," He flashed a charming smile that's guaranteed to have dropped panties before. "You're ridiculous," I said, standing up and grabbing my plate, walking into the kitchen to place my dishes in the sink. The Illyrian followed after me with his own plate, reaching over me and placing it in the basin beside mine.
I whirl around, which turned out to be admittedly a mistake. His bare chest was so close to my face that it was an effort to crane my neck up, keeping eye contact and not letting myself crumble beneath his gaze. "What do you think?" He asks and my eyes regrettably flick down to the scar, and I can't help myself as I reach forward, my fingers brushing over the rough line of skin and I swear for a moment both of us stop breathing. I tentatively pull my hand away, looking up at him with a smirk.
"I think you have enough testosterone to fuel an army," I hum, patting his chest before pushing past him and removing myself from the kitchen, attempting to ignore the way my hand remembered the feel of his skin against it.
Cassian turned to Azriel as soon as I was out of earshot. "That's a good thing, right?" The male mutters with a line between his brows. Azriel's eyes flick up from his novel to look at his brother. "I don't think so, no." He shakes his head, then returns to his page while Cassian's shoulders slump in defeat and he retreats to his room to find a shirt.
"You're telling me, you had your hand on Cassian, the male pushing seven feet, skin to skin and you didn't immediately surrender?" Morrigan says, her brows creased as she grows increasingly worried about my well-being. "Are you sick or something?" She reaches over the table, pressing a hand to my forehead and I scoff, the annoyed sound turning into a laugh as I push her hand away.
"I'm not sick," I claim. "Just a female who has no interest in large, muscular, beautiful, tan males," I grumble, taking a sip from my glass, my voice trailing off as I go on about how truly magnificent they are.
"Right," She settles back into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, unconvinced. "So," She smirks. "I know you've been saving the best for last," She leans forward, her grin uncontrollable as she rests her elbows on the table while she insists, "Tell me about Azriel."
My experience in Velaris so far was enjoyable— despite the three winged males, the people were kind here, the men didn't stare, the children weren't sickly, and the women held more value than the curvature of their bodies. It was nice here, like some false paradise.
A small part of me would forever hate Rhys and all the others living in his secret city for blindly living their perfect lives, while innocent people dreaded waking up every morning— because the best time they spent was unconscious, in their horrid city just below the mountain, only a short trip away. Such a drastic shift of atmosphere.
Sometimes when my guilt of being happy began to grow too unbearable I found myself in the library. The first and only place so far I've felt entirely safe. It was quiet here, enough to clear my thoughts, but not enough for unwanted ones to creep in. Priestesses bustled around the building with carts and stacks of books, keeping the tenor lively and welcoming.
So it was a shock when my safe space was suddenly and harshly ripped away from me when I saw a familiar winged Illyrian sitting in the spot I always chose. It wasn't mine by any means, but the bastard must've known this was the alcove I selected every time I came here, there was no way he just so happened to favor this spot as well with the amount of floors alone this place had.
"Move," I was particularly upset this morning due to lack of sleep from incessant nightmares. He only smirks, his eyes slow as they left the book he was so engrossed with, and dragged up to my features. Hazel pools flickering with amusement as he meets my gaze.
"Oh? Is this your spot?" He tilts his head mockingly and I grip my book harder.
I disliked Rhys for how he acts in the Hewn City, and Cassian for his overtly boisterous and arrogant behavior, but Azriel— no one quite got under my skin like Azriel. I couldn't exactly pin down why he made me so frustrated, perhaps it was because he would be the easiest to like, or maybe it was because I always thought he was the prettiest whenever they'd make their annual appearance in my home court, something about that particular fact made me hot with both rage and excitation.
"Well, I haven't exactly seen you sitting here before," I argue, clutching my book to my chest with furrowed brows.
"Fair point," He hums while scooting over and offering me a few more inches of space. It wasn't exactly the largest amount of seating area but he was kind enough to move, and I was far too tired to continue arguing. So I settled in beside him.
The spot I favored over all the others was nestled in a carved-out alcove, hidden from any peering eyes, located between shelves full of various hardback spines. The only viewpoint was from the balcony upstairs, or straight ahead. It felt safe, and I've yet to find any other place I liked as much as this one, so I was open to sharing as long as he kept to his book and I kept to mine, silently.
But the olive green couch wasn't big enough for the both of us and I quietly cursed his insanely large wings for taking up the entire area, one of the dark limbs spread out behind me while the other hung off the edge of the couch, the one behind my back however forced me closer to him, my side pressed against his, and my legs that I had pressed to my chest leaning onto his lap, so much so that I might as well have just been sitting in it, we must've looked ridiculous.
Nevertheless, he opened his book back up and offered me the peaceful quiet I craved. I did the same, cracking my book and finding the page I was on.
It was nice for a moment, the awkward silence morphing into something more comfortable as it grew familiar between us. I had even gotten a few chapters in before I reached a much more, graphic, chapter. The descriptions were downright erotic, and suddenly everything the male did stopped mattering because I was now entirely consumed by the book I had randomly picked off the shelves this morning.
"What are you reading?" He was so very close to my ear that I felt his breath against it, and I snapped my book shut, the sound echoing off the shelves of the quiet library.
"None of your business," I retort, whipping my head to him with stern brows, he narrows his at me suspiciously. "What about you?" I jerk my head towards his closed book like it's been neglected for more than just a few seconds. "Is it a guide on how to kill your brothers? Because I might be interested in reading that one next," I say with a smirk and he mirrors it.
"I wish, Cass practically kicked me out this morning with his atrocious singing while he made himself lunch," He grumbled and my lip quivered upward, my amusement unmanageable at the scene he put in my head, and I cursed myself because, of course, he notices.
"Oh, you think I'm funny?" He says and he was so damned close that one inch closer would result in noses brushing.
"Shh." I press my pointer finger to his soft lips. "No talking in the library." I smirk at him teasingly, removing my touch from his sensuous lips, dragging the bottom one down only for it to spring back up when I let go in an oddly satisfying way.
"We don't have to talk," He suggests, catching my hand before it can fall to my lap. My cheeks grow hot as he interlaces our fingers, palms pressing together, soft skin against scars. He notices my blush and moves that lethal inch closer, the tip of his nose ghosting against mine. "You want to kiss me so badly," He continues his taunts and I scowl, but I don't dare move away.
"Shut up," I bite back.
"Are you going to make me?" He arches a perfect brow and I grit my teeth, deciding I won't play his stupid games. I detangle our hands and turn away from him, but I can still feel his eyes on me.
"You're just as bad as your brothers," I claim, opening my book again.
"You wound me," He gasps in faux pain and I roll my eyes.
"Aren't you supposed to be the quiet one?" I huff, attempting to find the page I was on.
"Just because they're loud doesn't mean I don't speak too," He states, resting his chin on my shoulder.
"Whatever," I grumble, and his wing curls around me a little tighter. He stayed silent for a moment, just a moment of relieving peace, but it was over as soon as it began and I was grateful for the second, but the opposite of gratitude came over me when he spoke again.
"This is filthy, love," He runs his finger down the edge of my book and I close the novel again, this time quietly so it doesn't reverberate throughout the library again.
"I'm not shaming you," His voice is deep and seductive as he speaks, so very close to my ear I swear with every word I could feel it vibrate down my spine. "Just wanted to let you know I'm open to recreating it," He suggested and I sighed, deciding I'd had enough of his banter, and stood up, clutching my book to my chest as I looked back to him.
"You're relentless," I say and he shrugs with a coy smile.
"No goodbye kiss?" He hums and I only shake my head and storm out of the alcove, leaving the library more frustrated than I was when I arrived.
"And?" Mor gestures her hands, demanding more.
"That was it," I shrug.
"You didn't go back and make out with him?" She creased her brows like I was insane.
"No, because I don't need a male to enjoy my life," I say. "You are one to understand that," I suggest with my brows raising and she simply rolls her eyes with dissatisfaction.
"Yeah, but— that doesn't mean you should strip yourself the pleasure of having all three of them," She wiggles her brows and my cheeks grow hot. "Or you could just pick one and miss out with the rest," She adds, before taking a sip from her glass, the liquid inside nearly gone.
I thought it might've been impossible to just pick one. They all had their own personalities and unique qualities, and what if I somehow chose wrong? What if my decision came between the three of them? Then again why can't I just have all three of them? They're all so kind to me, and they're funny, and so very gorgeous, and— "Oh gods, I'm in love," I gasp quietly, my hand cupping over my mouth at the devastating recognition.
Morrigan only nods with a wide grin, like she's been waiting for me to realize since we sat down in this booth. "What do I do?" Suddenly I don't know how to think, or how to act.
"Put them out of their misery and feed those poor bastards," She proposed and I groaned with defiance.
“I’ve been working so hard to ignore their pathetic acts for the last five months, I can’t just give in now.” I practically melt onto the table, my head falling into my arms dramatically.
“Hey, listen to me,” She grabs me by the face, smushing my cheeks as she emphasizes every word. “Do you want them to fuck you senseless?” She asks and I sigh, but inevitably nod with a pitying frown. “Then go." She releases my face and shoos me with her hands and I smile as I stand up. “You’re the best Morrigan,” I claim and she winks at me. “I know,” She shrugs and I blow her a kiss before winnowing to where the tether between the three men felt the strongest.
Which landed me in a cabin I'd never been in before, the sitting room warmed by the crackling fire in the hearth.
Whatever conversation the three males were having halted when I showed up. They all looked at me with analyzing eyes, raking up and down my figure, still in my party dress from Rita's, the material tight, hugging every curve and dip of my body and ending high on my thighs, showing off the entirety of my legs and an obscene amount of cleavage, which the males definitely didn't miss.
Cassian and Rhys were sat on a sofa in front of the fire, Azriel was situated in a large leather chair that he claimed like some sort of king, distanced from the fire I notice. All three of them had short crystal glasses, a matching decanter sat on the coffee table halfway filled with an amber liquid.
"Hey, sweetheart," Cassian was the first to speak. "What brings you here?" He hums and I clench my jaw. What was I doing here? Silently I whirl on my heel and walk towards the kitchen, finding a bowl of fruit situated on the counter. I grabbed an orange from the variety, taking my time to peel the rind off, the three of them staring at me curiously as I approached them again, splitting the pieces of the fruit into thirds, handing each of them a slice without a single word.
"Are oranges supposed to pair well with whiskey?" Rhys held the fruit up, staring at it confused as if the High Lord truly didn't understand what was going on. He wasn't seriously going to make me say it, was he?
"Eat," I demand but they only stare at me with blank eyes and I sigh, my shoulders sagging. "Whoever's orange is gone first I'll make out with," I say and within the blink of an eye all three of their slices of fruit were gone, but I caught Azriel swallowing first so I approach him and take the liberty of sliding over his lap.
He wastes no time before putting his hands on me and pulling me into him, his lips immediately finding mine.
I smile at the citrusy taste still ghosting his tongue as he pushes it into my mouth, tasting every inch he can find like a starved animal, craving more. My hand goes into his hair while his scarred ones slowly slip beneath my dress, gripping me tightly and pinning me down onto his hips, allowing me to feel just how hard he was beneath me.
Desperate, indeed.
"Az," I whine softly and he groans at the sound, his kisses turning sloppy as he loses himself entirely in the taste of me.
"Alright," Cassian's voice calls, familiar, large hands coming to my waist and pulling me off of Azriel's lap with ease, throwing me over a broad shoulder.
"Is this what it's going to be like mated to you three?" I say, still upside down as Cassian's hands roam the backs of my thighs, then higher. "Passed around between you three like some doll?" I say, secretly not minding the idea.
"If you don't want to be passed around," He tosses me down onto a large bed. "We can always share at once," He hums and I had an unshakable feeling that I would be split in half if I took all of them for the first time, at once.
"No, I like being passed around," I say with bright red cheeks and he smirks, guiding me up onto the bed, my head meeting the pillows.
"Then who do you want first?" He hums, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
"Rhys," I look to the high lord. "I want Rhys," I say and the violet-eyed male raised a brow, his smirk uncontrollable as he approached the bedside. Cassian moved off of me and Rhys took his place over me, his lips finding mine with ease.
He kisses softly at first but that only last so long before he's leaving my mouth and beginning to nip and suck on my neck, licking over it to soothe the marks. I writhe beneath him, my hands in his dark hair as I ache for more. I reach for his pants, unbuckling his belt with one hand before moving to the ties confining his hardened bulge.
"No darling, you're going to ride me," He says breathily into my neck and my hand halts on his pants. He smirked at my reaction and flipped us over so I was on top. He unzips the back of my dress with ease, helps me slip it off with gentle hands as I straddle over his hips, now completely bare for all three of them, but it was only Rhys' eyes I was focused on at the moment.
I rut my hips down over the imprint in his pants, releasing a soft sigh as the action puts friction on my clit. He smiled up at me and how needy I was for him already.
He takes his pants the rest of the way off, his boxers along with it and I can't help but smile at the sight of him, his tip pulsing and red, and the length of him was intimidating enough on its own. "You think you're ready for me?" He asks, ripping my panties off with an ease I marveled at, but before I could reply to his question he swiped his fingers through my folds and my breath hitched at the stimulation, my arousal soaking his fingers, he pulls them back for me to see and I flush in embarrassment at how wet I already was.
"Oh, darling I've barely touched you," he smirks and I look away from his eyes, attempting to get my blush under control. "There's no need to be shy," He guides my face back to look at him. "Be good and take all of me, yeah?" He arches a dark brow and I nod, placing my hands on his chest as I rise on my knees while he helps align himself with my entrance.
He looks at me pointedly and I nod, then sink myself down onto him, ever so slowly.
"That's it," He grunts out as my cunt swallows around the head of his cock. He throws his head back into the pillows as I sink deeper, reaching the halfway point and clenching around him hard.
My nails scratched down his chest as the unfamiliar stretched, his eyes gleaming with pure lust until eventually my hips pressed against his and I let out a sinful moan as he brushed up against that bundle of nerves deep inside of me, kissing it softly.
"Rhys," I sigh, my nails digging into his abdomen as my cunt twitched around him. His hands come to my hips, slowly guiding me back and forth, manually making me grind on him.
"Fuck, taking me so well," He grits between his teeth, already restraining himself.
My back involuntarily arches as he kisses up against that sensitive spot again, moans tumbling from my lips as I begin to bounce myself up and down on his cock. He smiles hazily, his hands leaving my waist in favor of cupping my breasts, rubbing his calloused thumbs over my peaked nipples. My breath hitched at the sensation, clenching around him tighter as he groped them, tweaking them between his fingers, making my release barrel closer.
"So good for me, getting yourself off on my cock," He admires and I nod, a whimper slipping from my lips as I pull myself out to his tip then let gravity slam me back down onto him, the head of his length pounding into my sacred spot, making me release a lewd moan, screaming out his name as I clamp around the width of him, a ring of white forming around the base of his cock.
"Feels so, so good darling," He says breathlessly. "Such a good girl," He murmurs and I throw my head back at the praise.
"I'm close— Rhys, I can't," I pant out, unable to catch my breath with the way he relentlessly pounded into my cunt. "Me too, fuck— keep doing that," He grunted. "Keep squeezing me so tight, just like that," He instructs and I nod, my pussy taking all of him as he twitches deep inside of me, signaling that he was close.
I go faster, my thighs burning with the movement but I ignore the pain, delighting in the pleasure he was giving me. He pounds into me relentlessly, both of us teetering along that edge, and the moment his hands find my nipples again I'm left helpless, and suddenly I rise to my climax, coming to a crescendo as I meet my peak of pleasure.
I gasp as his warm cum seeps into my cunt, spurting out of his cock with one last clench of my core and he released a thick white liquid. "Gods, such a good girl," He sighs out, his large hands groping my breasts one last time before they dip down to my waist, and help guide me off of his length, laying me back into the bed.
"Cass," I murmured, keeping my legs together in order to hold Rhys' release inside of me. "Cassian, I want you next," I pant out, still not entirely over the high that Rhys left me with but I already wanted more, and lucky for me the male was there quickly, switching with Rhys as he hovers over me, his pants already absent and his cock leaking a milky substance, the sight making my mouth water. He was noticeably wider than Rhys, and I debated whether or not he'd tear me in two.
"Flip around, wanna feel your pretty pussy from behind," He hums and I do as he says, turning onto my stomach and hiking up onto my knees. His calloused hands find my hips, helping me guide them up higher, my back forming a perfect crescent as I keep my face in the pillows and maximize my arch.
"You ready for more sweetheart?" He asks and I nod, tears welling in my eyes as his heavy cock slaps against my soaking folds, my arousal dripping onto him as Rhys' release cascaded down my thighs. He lathers himself in my liquids, his pre-cum adding to the mixture.
"Want you, Cass," I murmur. "Don't hold back," I add and I can practically feel the way he was smirking. His tip prodding against my pulsing entrance.
"Tell me if it's too much alright?" He kisses my shoulder softly, his rough voice gentle as it meets my ear. I nod, but before any more words are spoken he grips my hips tighter and thrusts inside of me.
I gasp, breath being lost on me as I fist the sheets beneath me. "Cass," I cry out, the width of him stretching against my walls, molding me to him.
"Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me," He sighs out and I gripe, writhing beneath him as he pushes deeper and deeper, forcing my legs wider so he could enter more comfortably.
My breathing is labored as his hips finally snap against my ass. He groans at the feeling of his cock entirely sheathed inside of my cunt, stretching me beyond capacity like a sleeve made just for him.
"Please, Cass," I whine and he leans over me, my back bowing against his chest, his lips coming beside my ear.
"We only just started, sweetheart," He taunted, nipping at my shoulder.
Ever so slowly he pulls out, removing himself only about halfway before slamming back into me with an outmatched force. I screamed at the switch of pace, his thrusts coming quickly, pushing me up the bed.
I reached forward, gripping the headboard to stop my body from unconsciously running away from him. He drove his hips forward harshly, his balls slapping against my folds. His hands left my hips in favor of my ass, handling me roughly as I arched beneath him, feeling his width deeper the lower into the pillows I went.
"Good girl.” He throws his head back, sweat glistening as it rolls down his chest, into the groves of his abdomen. I mewl loudly, incapable of forming words as he fucks me beyond sentences.
"Such pretty noises you're making for me," He hums, his lips ghosting against the shell of my ear. "Am I making you feel good?" He whispers and I swallow thickly, tears brimming my eyes as I nod helplessly, defenseless under him like this. He smirks at my unsolicited actions as I grip around his shaft tighter, delighting in how good it feels as he stretches me.
His hands returned to the curve of my ass, gripping the plush skin in his large hands, loving the way it left red imprints, marking me as his, as theirs.
"Pull my hair," I murmur.
"What was that, pretty girl?" He leans over me and I flush shyly, I knew he heard me the first time.
"Pull my hair," I repeat and he smiles.
"Yeah? You want that?" He wraps his hand around my locks, gripping the back of my skull before tugging on it and I moan, my release catching up to me as he manhandles me, just how I wanted. His grip tightens as I squeeze around his cock, his heavy balls continuing to clap against my neglected folds. "That's it, baby, just like that," He assures, watching as I lose myself in the heat, fire blooming over my skin as my release barrels closer and closer.
"Please," Tears slip down my cheeks. "Let me cum, I’m close," I mewl, gripping the headboard tighter, my nails denting the wood.
"Already?" He teased and I nod, pushing myself back onto his cock and he grunts, twitching inside of me and brushing against my elastic walls. "Go ahead, make a mess sweetheart," He allows and I immediately follow his order, my orgasm ripping through me for the second time tonight, his following soon after, shooting his load of cum into me, filling my every crevice and mixing with Rhysand's inside of me.
I grip at the sheets as he pumps into me one last time and I clamp down on him, milking his cock as he slowly removes himself from me and collapses down onto the bed beside me.
My legs ache as I sink back down into the mattress, my intense high slowly fading away as I flip over onto my back.
I jolt as a cold sensation runs up my thighs, skidding across my waist and meeting my breasts, shadows swirling around the peaks of my nipples, slowly tightening and beginning to tweak the hardened buds.
"Az," I sigh, shaking my head. "I can't," I murmur, far too overstimulated to even think about taking another round.
"You can." He comes between my legs, shadows forming at my thighs and prying them open, forcing them to stay even when I try to close them. I can make out the way Cassian's cum seeps out of my cunt and down my ass, the feeling making my mouth water for Azriel's cum too, wanted all of their release to mix in my womb.
"There's so many things I've wanted to do to you," He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my collarbone. "Things I've imagined doing to you," He confesses, beginning to place soft pecks up the side of my neck, to my jaw. "Which one of us do you think of when you touch yourself?" He asks, his lips ghosting over mine and my brows bunch because it'd be a lie if I said I ever thought about just one of them.
"I asked you a question," He purrs, his hands coming to my wrists, gathering them up above my head. "Be a good girl and answer it for me." The tip of his nose runs along the side of my neck before his lips make contact with the side of my throat, teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh.
"All of you," I confess, pulling slightly at my wrists as he lets go but shadows have them pinned down too.
"Yeah? Do you like to imagine all three of us ruining all your pretty, wet holes at once?" He croons, his mouth just beside my ear and I writhe, unable to even grind against my own thighs since his shadows were holding me open, leaving me desperate and vulnerable for his own pleasure.
"Az," I whine.
"Tell me," He demands. "Tell me what you think about when your fingers are stuffed in your needy cunt," He hums and my brows crease at how humiliating this all was.
"I think about all three of you, fucking all my pretty holes," I confess and he smiles proudly.
"Yeah? Does that get you off?" He hums and I nod with a whimper, murmuring a pathetic, "Mhm."
His fingers are barely there as he drags them up my figure, then back down to my hips, keeping me restrained as I clench around nothing.
"I need you inside of me, please," I beg and he manically grins, kissing along my jaw, nipping at it as I continue to pull against his shadows.
"Such a needy little thing aren't you?" He taunts and I nod, agreeing with whatever he wants me to as long as he pushes himself inside of me. "Yeah? Don't worry baby, I'm going to ruin you." He said, his grip tightening on my hips as he pressed his tip to my entrance, and without another warning, pushed inside of me.
I screamed his name loudly at the intense feeling, he didn't waste time and he most definitely wasn't gentle like Rhys, or kind like Cassian, he was fucking me like an animal, and I loved every second of it.
Maybe it was because I was overstimulated but he felt so fucking long inside of me, and when his length was fully sheathed in my cunt I swore he was up against my cervix.
Shadows released my thighs for only a moment so that he could adjust my legs, pulling them up to my sides and putting me into a mating press.
"Gods, you're taking me so well," He admires, staring down at me with low-lidded eyes as I let him withdraw everything he wants from me, his cock nestled deep inside of me as I take him deeper and deeper while he fucked me into the mattress, unrelenting and so very stimulating.
"That's it, so fucking good," He throws his head back at the feeling of my puffy cunt squeezing around him torturously tight. "Gods, I'm going to fuck this wet pussy until you beg me to stop," He groans and I moan at his lewd words, and the sounds of his hips slapping against the backs of my thighs, his full balls smacking into my ass as he continued his rough pace.
He looks down at me, sweat lining my forehead and a permanent blush over my cheeks, tears running down the sides of my face as he uses me.
"You look so pretty tied up like this," He smirks, analyzing my every breath, as if needing to remember this for later.
My mouth is open, moans escaping the base of my throat with each of his thrusts, the head of his long cock kissing my cervix and I scream, my nails digging into my palms as I fight off my orgasm, feeling my encroaching climax grow closer and closer.
"Az—" I start, barely able to get his name out before I'm cut off by another moan. "I have to—" I can't even say it, tears blurring my vision as he continues to pummel into me and I deflect my third release. "You already have to cum baby?" He smirks down at me and I nod, so grateful he understood but my gratitude dwindled away with his next words. "You wanna cum? You think you've earned it?"
I nod fervently, my body aching at the position he had me stuck in. I convulse around the base thick of his cock, the back of my head buried in the pillows as I plead for my climax but he wasn't allowing it until he came too.
I force my legs open wider and he hits into me deeper, earning a grunt of pleasure from him.
"I can't Az," I plead. "I promise, I'll be a good girl just, let me cum," I say and he groans at how I sounded begging for my own release, the sounds of my moans pushing him closer to that edge.
"Alright baby, go ahead, come all over my cock," He commands and I obey without another thought, my release slamming into me hard, resulting in me shaking beneath him, my legs jolting as he slowly unpins them and lets me wrap my legs around his torso, riding out my high as he presses into my cervix and with one last harsh thrust he grunts and releases his seed into my womb, mixing it with Rhysand's and Cassian's.
My cunt is left red and swollen as he removes himself from my entrance, I close my legs as soon as he was gone, not letting any of their releases escape me, keeping it tucked inside. The mating bond affected me so much that I wanted to feel this fucked out all the time, have them fill me at every moment, drunk on their cocks.
"You did so well for us," Azriel hums, sinking into the bed beside me, my ass up against him as I flip onto my side and face Cassian, his lips finding mine, biting at my lower one while Rhys' hands fondle my oversensitive breasts. "Poor baby, she thinks we're done," Azriel hums, his cock hardening again, pressing to my ass.
"Please," I whimper but none of them stop their movements.
"It's time to take us all at once, darling," Rhys said and I gasped as I felt his hand cup my heat.
"You ready, sweetheart?" Cass asks and I can only nod helplessly.
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mrsshabana · 13 days ago
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𝐙𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐄!𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 ⛧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄
꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Gyutaro's become obsessed with pleasing you. So much so that it seems like his only purpose for living. And those feelings will only get stronger when his memories of you come flooding back. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, gore, body horror, fingering, oral, master/slave, masochism, sadism, praise kink ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.7k words. Thank you to @misskaorii for helping me brainstorm for this chapter!! ♡
༺ Art ༻
⇢ Chapter one ⇢ Chapter two ⇢ Kinktober Masterlist
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After that night, Gyutaro seems a lot happier than he was before. And he's getting better at controlling himself too.
Always going around your apartment, cleaning up or preparing things for you. It's kind of surprising honestly. At first you thought the whole master thing was just a kink of his. But no, he literally does see you as his master.
After doing more research you discovered that when a witch resurrects a human they have an inseparable bond. Kind of like a contract. Where the resurrected person feels an undeniable urge to protect and serve their summoner.
It took some getting used to at first, but now you don't mind it. It's nice having someone always by your side to protect you and help you whenever you need. Though, you do wish he would relax more often. And stop calling you master too. You try to get him to call you by your name, but he can't help it.
It seems as the days pass, his undying servitude towards you grows more and more. And the feeling is mutual. You enjoy taking care of him and having him around. Even getting so close that you can understand what he's trying to say even when only mumbles and groans leave his mouth.
The hardest part has been keeping him a secret from your coven. If Lady Tamayo found out she'd be pissed. Probably enough to force you to live at the coven again. And you just gained your independence so you can't mess it up now!
It's difficult to keep Gyutaro a secret from all of your friends but you know you don't have a choice. You know you'll have to come clean eventually, but for now you're content coming home to your sweet zombie boy every day after your lessons.
"Gyutaro, I'm home!" You shout as you enter your apartment, closing the door behind you.
As soon as you kick off your shoes you hear something rummaging around in your kitchen. So you hurriedly follow the sound, fully expecting to see Gyutaro getting into some kind of trouble.
And that's exactly what you see. Him standing over the counter with a jug of milk. Why he feels like he needs to drink milk, you have no idea. He has a habit of seeing you do things and he tries to mimic you because he thinks that'll make you proud. It's cute but it often ends in a mess.
As you enter the kitchen you watch as he shakily tries to pour the milk into a glass cup. His clumsy hands spilling most of the milk on the floor and the countertop, barely getting inside of the glass. But he seems to think he did a good job as he happily hands the glass to you with a smile.
"F-For you," he smiles.
"Thank you, Gyu," you force an exhausted smile and take the glass. It's awfully sweet of him to try and you do appreciate it, but you can't help but feel tired. Knowing that you're going to have to get on your hands and knees to clean up this mess.
And Gyutaro can tell from your facial expression that you aren't pleased.
"Gyutaro... bad?" he frowns, looking hurt.
"No no! You aren't bad, honey!" You immediately try to reassure him, "You made a little bit of a mess but that's ok. You're learning!"
He shakes his head and gets on his knees, "Punish! Please!" he whimpers as he bows before you, "P-Punish Gyutaro f-for making mess..."
Your eyes widen as you watch his display of submission.
"Gyutaro, please stand up," you gently pet his hair, "You don't deserve to be punished. You aren't in trouble, ok?"
"No! I-I... I did bad thing. So punish, yes," he looks up at you with pleading eyes almost as if he wants to be punished.
And when you look further down, you see that this actually excites him. The obvious erection between his legs tells you just how much he wants this. It may be called a punishment, but if he enjoys it this much then it must be a reward. And you're more than happy to reward your sweet zombie boy.
"Fine, you're right. You do deserve to be punished," you proclaim as you grab a fistful of his hair and tug.
A needy moan leaves his lips, "Y-Yes master..."
"You were a very bad boy, Gyu," you pull harder, forcing him to look up at you, "Look at all that milk you wasted."
"M'sorry," he gasps, joyful tears flowing from his eyes, "I m-make it up to... to you."
His eyes dart to under your skirt, then back to your eyes.
You smirk, getting what he's hinting at. "If you try really hard, then maybe, just maybe I'll forgive you."
He bites his lip and lifts your skirt, "Won't s-stop until you forgive..."
Your face heats up as you watch him slide your panties down. His eyes widen as he sees your pretty pussy. Just the sight of it makes him so excited, thinking about how good he's going to make you feel.
He's sloppy and doesn't completely know what he's doing, but his eagerness to please you more than enough makes up for it. Starting by kissing your clit, then licking up and down your slit. Paying attention to how your body reacts and to the sounds you make. His observations pay off, and it doesn't take him too long to find a combination of tongue movements that you like.
Quickly getting you wet enough to slide his fingers inside.
"A-Ah Gyu!" You moan, grabbing onto his hair for support. He can't help but groan as you roll your fingers through his hair and moan his name.
He's slower with his fingers than he is with his tongue, as he's nervous about hurting you. But once he finds that spongy spot that makes your thighs tremble and your eyes roll back, he speeds up. Using two fingers, sliding in and out of you, pressing his rough fingertips on that spot that makes you scream his name.
He's not sure what feels better. The way your walls clench around his fingers, or the way your hands tightly grip his head and push him harder against your cunt. Begging for him to keep going.
He fucking loves it. Nothing feels as good as pleasing his master. Involuntarily rutting his hips against the fabric of his pants, he feels like he could cum any minute now just from pleasing you.
As your nails rake against his scalp and your palms massage his head, he begins to feel a strange sensation in his brain. Like your touch is bringing more life into his body. But it's different from last time. His brain tingles as memories begin to flow back to him. Memories of you.
He begins to remember you coming into the store he worked at every week. How he'd get so excited to see you, picking up shifts and changing his schedule just so he could see you more often.
Memories of how beautiful he thought you were but he was too shy to tell you how much he liked you. How he would jerk off almost every night to the thought of you when he'd get home after a long shift.
And how he had planned to finally ask you out. But death took him the day before he could do so.
It all comes back to him. And he can't believe that his face is actually between your legs right now. The girl he's crushed on and obsessed over for more than a year.
He doesn't have to imagine eating you out while stroking his dick late at night anymore. Because now he gets to live it. He may be a zombie now but he doesn't care, as long as he gets to love his favorite girl then he's happy.
"Y/N... Y/N..." he moans your name, barely audible as his mouth is still buried between your thighs.
"G-Gyutaro!" you shout as you reach your climax. Your walls tightening around his fingers, your fists pulling his hair, and your legs almost giving out.
He groans and can't stop himself from cumming too, staining the front of his pants until they're soaked. But that doesn't stop him from continuing. His fingers still slide in and out of you as his tongue circles around your clit.
"Ah! Ok-ok! I forgive you, I forgive you," you plead as the overstimulation gets to be too much. But he doesn't care, he doesn't let up until you're licked clean.
Once he's satisfied he moves his face away and looks up at you with a satisfied yet cocky grin on his face.
It's unusual, something about him seems different. But you don't think about it for too long as you sit on the floor, your back resting against the fridge as you catch your breath.
"That was... so good," you pant, "You did a great job Gyu. Good boy," you smile weakly.
He smirks and looks down between your legs.
Something is... off.
You see him sitting on the floor a few feet in front of you, yet you still feel his fingers inside of you.
His wrist, no it's his hand. It's not attached to his wrist.
You look down with wide eyes to see his detached hand still fingering you.
With an amused chuckle, Gyutaro's hand crawls back to him, and he reattaches it to his wrist.
"Sorry," he blushes, "F-Feels too good being inside you..."
You're at a loss for words. Never did you expect him to do that, but knowing that he can just detach parts of himself and control them freely is kind of exciting.
"I-It's ok," you pull your panties up and try to compose yourself.
All of those feelings he once felt for you when he was alive come flooding back to him. "I... I remember," he mumbles as he crawls over to you and wraps his arms around you. Holding you close and kissing the top of your head.
"What do you remember?" You ask as you lean into him.
"H-How much... I loved you."
It's surreal to him the life he's living now. His death, his resurrection, and his new romance. But it was all worth it to be with you.
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zzencat · 2 months ago
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Why Am I So Hard On Myself? - Timeless ⏳
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Breathe and choose. Left to right.
Kinda doing this one on a whim but figured it could help anyone who needs to be heard and have their doubts or feelings validated. You’re not alone. Does it say anything else about you?
TO ENHANCE ACCURACY BEFORE CHOOSING: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.
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Pile 1 | “no matter how hard i try…”
somehow, something always goes wrong. you always try to salvage what you can, picking up the pieces and trying to make the most of the situation, but maybe the timing is shit, or it isn’t met up to standard. plans ruined, connections gone, opportunities lost. even when all you do is try and try. you might even think “why is this even happening? im only breathing”
small note: while shuffling, it was going pretty nicely then cards started flying out of my hands like fliers on a windy day. it’s a small thing, but to me, it has to do with having constant roadblocks and inconveniences, and that maybe you feel like you’re at your last straw sometimes
you want to be seen for your efforts. at least some acknowledgment that someone knows, sees, and understands that you’re trying. someone to hear you out for once and take you seriously, even if none of what you’d done or contributed has worked before. just acknowledgment would be enough. maybe you’re the only one who recognizes your efforts.
i think you struggle with maintaining career, friendships, or really anything, in general. the foundations laid out might’ve been risky or unstable to begin with so you could question why things don’t last for you. a part of you expects the heartbreak to happen.
it’s crazy bc in this pile, there’s so much…optimism and hope (that might be dying out or feels like it has already) that one day something will work out
your heart isn’t completely closed and you’ll still have it open to accept things, even when you think it shouldn’t. this is what makes you a stronger person. it opens a wide range of doors for you, whether you know it or not. don’t give up.
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Pile 2 | “look out!”
you’re so used to prioritizing others and putting yourself last. bc of this, you could’ve missed out on many things and lost opportunities
you have a big heart and hella good energy — an abundance of it — but for some reason, it’s rarely spent on yourself
you feel like it’s your responsibility, all of it — to run or lead things, as if it’s all in your hands. to take over when things are about to fall apart. who made it your responsibility to carry the burdens of others? what happens then if they don’t reciprocate or return the same generosity?
all of this energy is being redirected to the wrong places when you should be thinking about yourself too. how can you help others when you can’t even help yourself? how about your own dreams and goals? you’re human too, so you need the care and support as well. your energy doesn’t just grow on trees. put yourself high on your own list. make yourself a priority for once. book a spa day and have someone else take over for the day.
——————————————————————————————————-
Pile 3 | *whistling*
for this pile, it seems to be more family related, where your pursuits, outlooks, or the way you treat yourself is how you were treated growing up. there’s some connection to pile 2 as well, so there could be some messages in pile 2 for you if it caught your eye
parent(s)/caretakers put a lot of pressure on you with crazy expectations or nitpicking, sometimes maybe even emotional manipulation like guilt tripping
there’s a need to take more charge in your life, especially in the creative and emotional corners of it, and also to create more meaningful and deep connections
some people in this pile might be easily defensive as well too. in this lifetime, you’re gonna learn to put your guard down, bc perhaps you’d grown up feeling trapped and forced into a mold you didn’t belong in
you could struggle with emotional commitment or generally sticking to one thing. there are probably too many things you wanna do or end up trying at least once. relationships might not last too long. there could even be a subconscious fear that you won’t be able to meet someone else’s emotional needs or standards.
you’re very spontaneous and prob get bored easily. also prob struggled academically (ex: having a hard time understand in subjects, sticking to one thing/constantly changing interests or majors, feeling trapped, giving up)
you’re lowkey a perfectionist. perhaps you’re never satisfied bc you grew up with that kind of dissatisfaction on yourself, likely by adults or maybe just things you’d picked up from adolescence
at some point, you might reflect back and feel disappointed in yourself, even if you’d just had the time of your life. it seems like this pile indulges in more superficial activities/substances to fill in the void in that chest
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ending teddy note: hey guys! been a while but here’s a pac for ya!! i think this is a great pac if you don’t have someone to acknowledge the potential issues going on in your life. thank you for taking the time to read this and i really hope you enjoy it! rmr to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. ciao!! :P
i would appreciate the feedback! lemme know what you got or think in the comments or reblogs 🦾
- The Tedster
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bad268 · 2 months ago
Text
The Light Behind Your Eyes (Logan Sargeant X Kirkwood! Reader!)
Fandom: RPF/F1
Requested: Nope (inspired by MCR) Was gonna post this Saturday, but it seems fitting now.
Warnings: mentions Williams being a shitty team
POV: Second Person (You/your)
W.C. 1338
Summary: Logan's eyes seem a little darker this season...
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
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~~(^Pinterest)
You hated what this was becoming. Formula 1 was Logan’s dream. It’s always been to get to Formula 1 ever since he was a child and you two met at a karting track. You were there because your brother and Logan raced together. Kyle definitely told Logan he wasn’t allowed to date you, but who listens to that? Yeah, not Logan.
Now, he was happy you were with Logan. Logan told Kyle more about the Williams situation than you simply because 1) Kyle is his best friend and 2) because he knew you would say something. Kyle is usually just there for Logan to vent.
What Logan didn’t know was that Kyle has loose lips and can’t keep his mouth shut. You asked Kyle one time if he was planning to meet up with Logan anytime soon and he spilled everything. You didn’t even pry! Kyle just let everything out.
How alone Logan felt on the grid to how the mistreatment and lack of confidence from his own team have been beating down on him negatively. Kyle also told you about how Logan didn’t want you involved because he did not want to hurt your feelings or make you feel like you weren't enough. 
Of course, you were going to take it into your own hands at this point. You decided to talk with some people who happened to be looking for a new driver for 2025, and you may or may not have planted an idea in their heads. It actually did not take too much convincing since they were already thinking about it.
One day, after another bad race where the team made him switch places with Alex when Logan was on course to get points, you decided to talk to Logan about it.
“Logs?” You asked as you peeked into the bedroom. You two had made it back to the hotel, and you left him alone for a few minutes just to calm down a little before this talk. “Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah, sure,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes harshly before sitting up and making room for you. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m worried,” You started as you sat in front of him and held his hands. “You’re not telling me everything.”
“What do you mean? I’m fine,” Logan dismissed without making eye contact. “It was just a bad race-”
“No, it’s a bad team and a bad season,” You interrupted, moving your hands up to his face. You looked into his stormy eyes as they glossed over. “I can see it in your eyes. Logan, you’re losing the light in your eyes. You’re not having fun racing anymore, and it’s killing me just watching you force yourself. You don’t have to go through this alone. Please let me help you.”
“I don't know what else I can do, babe,” He muttered, trying to regain his composure. “They’ve made it pretty fucking clear that they don’t trust me. They take any opportunity to tear me down and bring up the fact that they have replacements on standby. I don’t know what else there is for me to do.”
“You don't have to have the answer, Logs,” You comforted as you ran your fingers through his blonde hair.  “Just let me take care of you for once. I can’t have them take the light behind your eyes.”
“I just-” He hesitated, but you encouraged him to go on.
“You can be honest, Logs,” You prompted as you moved to seat yourself on his lap to hold him in your arms. “I’m here to listen.”
“I don’t know who I am without racing,” Logan whispered as his voice cracked. He pulled back a little to look you in the eyes, and almost all of the light was gone. This was all because of one team. “I don’t know where else I can go if I don’t have a place in F1.”
“Sometimes we must grow stronger, and you can’t be strong in the dark. Williams is proving to be the darkest cave, and they’re pulling you deeper every time they degrade you,” you ranted before stopping to take a deep breath. “When I’m here, you can always lean on me. Let me take some of the burden because I’m here for you, Logs. I have a plan, but we need to work as a team, and you need to trust me on this. Even if it means abandoning a contract.”
“You’re plan is for me to leave F1?” Logan asked, not as shocked as you thought he would be, but genuinely curious nonetheless. 
“I have something lined up, but I’m waiting to hear a final decision,” You answered vaguely.
“Can I know what series or team?”
“All I’ll say is you should go back to your roots,” You answered again just as vaguely. 
It wasn’t for another month that you heard anything back, and it was not from your contact. 
“Tell me how you got Logan on the grid,” Kyle cornered you as soon as you walked into your family home.
“Hello. Good afternoon. Wonderful day we’re having. How are you? I haven't seen you in a while, What’s happened to your manners, Kirkwood?” You said sarcastically as you brushed past him to greet the rest of your family.
“Hello, oh favorite sibling of mine, how are you on this fine day when Logan Sargeant announced he was leaving Williams immediately and signed with Prema for next year in Indycar,” Kyle said sarcastically at first before dissolving into shouts.
“Oh, did he already sign?” You asked confused before muttering to yourself, “Last I heard, they were still discussing.”
“So you do admit that was your plan?” Kyle pointed out as he followed you around the kitchen. “How did you convince him?”
“I technically didn’t,” You admitted. “I asked him to let me help and he never really answered, but I had already talked to Rene about it. He was already planning on talking to Logan about it. I just kinda pushed it to happen sooner rather than later. On the bright side, Logan and I can go with you to the last few races of the season.”
“I don't want to see my sibling and best friend making out in my garage,” Kyle cringed as he walked up beside you and threw his arm over your shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for him though. Maybe being home will be better.”
“Being home? I also thought about him knowing more than one person on the grid,” You chuckled.
When St. Petersberg came around, energy was high again, and Logan was looking like his old self again. He was happy to be around Kyle more often. He got back in touch with Pietro Fittipaldi, Marcus Armstrong, Callum Ilott, Christian Lundgaard, and Theo Pourchaire since he knew them back in F2 and F3. 
As the pre-race was heating up, you stood on the track beside Logan while the national anthem played. You glanced at his face, and he looked so much more relaxed and relieved than he did a mere six months ago. Things were finally looking up for him.
After the flyover, you moved about and helped Logan get ready for the race. You quickly grabbed his helmet and Hans device, assisting him in putting them on. 
“Any last pieces of encouragement you have for me?” Logan smirked as he put in his headphones and balaclava.
“Race hard, have fun, and never let them take the light behind your eyes, you hear me?” You jokingly commanded as you helped him put his helmet on, your new engagement ring shining in the sunlight. The broadcast got a clear shot of that.
“I hear you loud and clear,” He responded with a smirk. “Thank you, I’ll win this for you. I love you.”
“As long as you’re safe, I’ll be proud,” You patted his helmet and headed over to the box as Logan got situated in the car and prepared to start his engine for the next chapter.
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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dfortrafalgar · 6 months ago
Note
Hi, saw that your request were open so I was thinking on asking you for Law X fem reader where law has a crush on reader and starts hanging out and sees that one of reader’s guy friends is being way too touchy and starts touching her butt, he is also being mean to her and at one point even hits her in the head.
How would he react, I was thinking of a fluff ending.
thank you so much for your request anon!!! i really loved this one, it was super fun to write! it was definitely a bit of a struggle though, as much as i enjoy writing heavier topics, physical abuse is tricky for me to deal with, but i hope the fluff at the end delivered some resolutions <3
also, i actually really really like Bellamy as a character. i think he's super cool, but i couldnt think of anyone else who could really fit in the role he's playing in this fic LOL
Rectify
Law x Fem Reader
Law’s feelings for you are forced to clash with a loathsome person in your life.
Warnings: descriptions of brief physical abuse, implications of past abuse, very mild suggestive language, modern setting, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending
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By the time Law realized his crush on you had surpassed its normal, healthy limit, it was far too late for him.  It certainly didn’t help to see you sitting next to Bellamy, tossing joking remarks back and forth.  All of you were in the same friend group, so it was truly impossible to avoid your interactions with the much larger, stronger, arguably more handsome man.  And the thought began to make Law’s blood boil.
Because Bellamy was everything Law wasn’t.
You and Law had been friends since childhood, growing up in the same neighborhood and running with the same crowd.  You were familiar with his best friends and his dad, just as Law was familiar with your closest peers.  Law liked to think that, as the years went on, the two of you grew closer and closer.  You were always far nicer to Law during his awkward teenage years, and there were a few times where the raven-haired boy grew hopeful that you might one day return his budding feelings for you, but that day never came.  And then you started college… and then you met Bellamy.
On the contrary to the black-haired medical student, the blonde was known around the entire campus as ‘The Hyena,’ and for good reason.  He was ruthless in every sport he played, a malicious, sadistic grin constantly pulling at his thin lips striking fear into the hearts of his opponents.  He was strong, freakishly so, with muscles that could rival that of an Olympic weightlifter.  His blonde hair was a hit with the ladies, and partnered with his darker skin tone and his assortment of badass tattoos, it seemed like a no brainer that women would be falling all over him.
Law just internally hated that one of those women seemed to be you.
Despite you having confirmed on multiple occasions that you and Bellamy were simply friends that you met in one of your classes, and that you truly had no interest in men like him, Law couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his chest.
Bellamy certainly seemed to like you.  A lot.
Law watched from across the room, a plastic cup still completely full of an unidentified cocktail in his tattooed hand and the large group of friends you shared laughing and chattering around you in the living room of the house party, as one of Bellamy’s large, strong hands began to circle around your waist, gripping the soft flesh of your ass through your pants.  The sensation made you jump, trying to scurry away from him with a nervous smile on your soft lips as you awkwardly laughed at the feeling, but Bellamy tried to pull you in closer.  The couch cushions sunk under his weight, creating a deep divot that made it hard to stand up.
You lightly shoved Bellamy’s chest, mumbling something about standing to get another drink, before you were finally able to haul yourself up from the warm sofa and make your way toward the kitchen in the back of the house.  Law stood from his metal folding chair, abandoning his cup on a random end table.  He followed you diligently into the kitchen.
“Hey,” he muttered.
“Oh, hey, Law!” you returned his greeting, mild surprise filling your eyes.  “I didn’t hear you behind me!”
The man shrugged, leaning against the counter.  You awkwardly fiddled with a glass bottle of beer, using the edge of the counter to pop open the metal cap.  Law eyed you suspiciously.
“You don’t drink beer,” he stated, watching as you simply held the chilled bottle in your hands without making a move to drink it.
You smiled in response, but the gesture didn’t reach your eyes like it normally did.  “I know… I just needed to get some air away from the living room for a little bit.”
Law couldn’t hold back the question fighting on his tongue.  “Is Bellamy bothering you?”
Pointed stares were shared between the two of you before you finally, lightly, shook your head.  “No.”
“Are you sure?”  Something told him you were lying to his face.
“Yes, I’m sure,” you groaned.  “Law… I know you don’t like him… but he’s really not that bad.”
“You didn’t seem to like it when he touched your ass,” the med student grumbled.
“Law, I don’t want to fight,” you retorted, firmly.  “I don’t like it when Bellamy touches me, anywhere.  I know he’s into me but I’m not into him, but I don’t want to cause a scene at a party I was graciously invited to.”
You had a point.  Liquor was running as free as tap water within the stale, stuffy walls of the house, and saying or doing something that could potentially cause a fight wouldn’t be ideal.  Especially since the police had already been called multiple times to a house just a few steps down the sidewalk from this one.
Law wished he could open his mouth and just tell you, tell you everything that had been on his mind, how he realized just recently (and yet somehow far too late for his liking) that he’s madly in love with you, how he doesn’t want to see you be treated poorly by someone who you call a friend, how he wished so desperately that you would see him in the same way, how he longed for your touch.  But instead, he stayed silent, watching as you anxiously eyed the brown glass of the untouched beer bottle you still gripped in your hand, as if the bottle was the only thing keeping you glued to reality.
“I’m fine, Law,” you blurted.  He hadn’t said anything more.  With your eyes cast down to the floor, you left your beer bottle sitting open on the countertop before retreating back into the thick of the party.
The raven-haired student waited a few moments before returning as well, his metal folding chair unfortunately having been taken by two sweaty economics students locked in a very passionate, very inappropriate, makeout session.  He pushed his way through the mingling crowd back toward the couch where he spotted you perched on the arm of the sofa this time, Bellamy practically flush against your body on the end cushion, his palm on your ass, fingers squeezing intermittently.  The blonde was locked in an intense conversation with the man in front of him, and the look on your face screamed uncomfortable.  Law felt his stomach flip over.  Your eyes caught him again, and you frowned.  A frown so deep that it left shadows under the creases of your lips.  You looked… aged.  Stressed.  Afraid.
But Law kept his distance.
You didn’t want a scene to break out.  You could handle yourself on your own.
Bellamy’s hand trailed from your ass down your thigh, your skin still protected by the rough denim of your jeans, but that didn’t stop his fingers from crawling around the front of your body and dipping between your thighs.  The feeling of his intense hand trying to pull you apart in front of another man, without your consent, made you visibly tense up and pull away from him.  Your motions finally made the blonde’s attention snap to you, his dark eyes narrowing and somehow becoming even more villainous.
“Don’t run off,” he snapped.  “You’re sitting right here with me, all pretty like that.”
You steeled yourself.  “Then I don’t want you touching me like that.  We’re not an item, Bellamy.”
“I don’t care,” he huffed back.  “I’ll touch you however I want.”
The music of the party, the chattering voices slurred with alcohol, faded completely around Law as he watched the argument unfold before his eyes.  The only sounds entering his ear drums were the disgusting words leaving Bellamy’s mouth, the demands, the insults.  The dim lights of the living room did very little to hide the way your face contorted in discomfort, trying to pull away from the blonde athlete even more.
“Bellamy, I said no,” you snapped.  
No one seemed to be paying any attention to what was happening, all eyes everywhere but where they should have been.  When you were being closed in on by a man much larger than you, no one was looking.  You were alone.
And Law was somehow so far away.
“I don’t remember ever needing to listen to you,” the hyena chortled, his voice gravelly and nasally.  “You should be lucky that you have a guy like me who’s into you.  You’ll never be able to do better than me.”
You opened your mouth once more to shout a retort, but you were cut short.  Bellamy’s clenched fist connected with your lower jaw, swiftly knocking you to the ground in a stunned shock.  You fell like a lead brick, hitting the ground with a force that Law somehow felt through the soles of his shoes, rattling his bones and making his head spin.  Your hands blindly scraped against the floor searching for your bearings, completely disoriented from the blow that had just met your bone.  You brought one of your hands to your mouth, cupping your palm over your lips as your eyes closed, trying to block out every overwhelming color and sound filling your brain with a nuclear buzz.
And yet.  No one.  Noticed.
Law cleared the floor in an instant, just as Bellamy was yelling something about your worth being determined by your partnership with him.  The fist inked with DEATH clocked the blonde in the temple, the short, stubbly blonde hairs leaving phantom singing pain on Law’s fingers.  The hyena stumbled backward, catching himself on the arm of the sofa you were previously sitting on.
For a brief moment, the med student was gloatingly proud of himself.  His father was a retired marine after all.  Law knew a thing or two about a good punch.  His thoughts were quickly retired, however, as he crossed the crowded floor to your side, quickly helping you to your feet and pushing through the crowd with you hunched over in his arms, tripping over your heels as he rapidly escorted you to the door.
Don’t cause a scene.
Bellamy didn’t follow, and Law counted his blessings.  “Hey, your apartment’s on this street, right?”
With a hand still cupped over your mouth, you nodded.  Your eyes were barely keeping themselves open, what was visible of your face contorted in a muted agony.
If Law was any less collected, he would’ve stomped that hyena’s face in with the heel of his boot.
The two of you were barely getting anywhere with your afflicted state.  Law scooped you into his embrace, your legs wrapping around his hips and free hand clenching the soft fabric of his shirt as he carried you back to your apartment with one of his arms carefully supporting your rump.  Thank goodness you lived so close, in a converted townhouse on the corner of the same street.  Law still lived in on-campus housing across town, which was less than ideal for his tastes.  He helped you fish your key from the pocket of your pants, keeping you in his grasp while he pushed the door open and entered the narrow entryway of your home.  Your roommate was gone for the week visiting family on the other side of the country, so your place was completely dark and quiet.
Law flipped the light switch on just in time to watch you scurry to the first floor bathroom as soon as your feet touched the hard wooden floor, leaving the door open as the light in the smaller space flicked on as well.  He quickly followed, standing in the doorway as you finally pulled your hand away from your mouth.
A few droplets of blood were dotting your palm, but when you opened your mouth, a worryingly large glob of bright crimson exited past your lips and splattered in the white porcelain of the sink.  Law’s stomach lurched as he watched you try in vain to spit out the metallic liquid, your entire face scrunching up as the nauseating sensation and taste.  Your shoulders shuddered with the feeling of your gag reflex bobbing in the back of your throat, forcing your stomach to hold its contents as you released drops of bright red into the white porcelain of the wash basin.
The med student’s first thought was that one or more of your teeth had been knocked loose or even came out permanently, but nothing solid landed in the sink.  As you began to calm down from your spitting into the basin, your eyes began to well with overwhelmed tears.  You gazed at Law in the mirror, his golden eyes locked on yours as a small dribble of blood and spit slid down the skin of your chin.
Wordlessly, your friend stepped into the bathroom with you, grabbing a wad of toilet paper and wetting it with warm water from the tap, wiping away the bloody drool that left your lips.
“I know it hurts, but I need you to open for me,” he muttered, gently holding your cheek in his hand as the other one balled up the toilet paper and discarded it into the open toilet bowl.
When you opened, Law reached into the back pocket of his speckled jeans and procured his phone, clicking on the flashlight without looking at his screen.  He shined the light into your mouth and, to his relief, didn’t see any chipped, broken, or missing teeth.  He did, however, see a substantial gash on the side of your tongue.  You must have clamped down hard on the muscle with your teeth thanks to the force of the punch.  The thought made a silent rage build in Law’s gut.  He turned you around and closed the toilet lid, sitting you down and proceeding to rummage through your medicine cabinet.  
He handed you two pieces of gauze wrap from below your sink.  “I need you to hold these against the cut on your tongue, okay?  Don’t remove them until I say so.”
You diligently followed his orders, taking the dry cloth from him and inserting it painfully into your mouth to rest on the stinging wound that cut your muscle.  You watched as he continued to rummage through your supplies, pushing aside boxes of tampons and toilet cleaning chemicals and finally finding what he was hoping he would see- a brown plastic bottle.  He stood from his crouching position, the bottle in his firm grasp.  He spun the item around to gaze at its expiration date and hummed approvingly under his breath.  He quickly exited the bathroom, leaving you alone for a few fleeting moments.
While he was gone, you were able to take a better look at your face.  While one of your cheeks was puffed up slightly with the clump of gauze against your tongue, you could still make out the swelling of your skin on the same side.  A large, black and blue bruise was quickly blooming along your jaw and up your cheek, your fractured capillaries leaking into your epidermis.
Law finally returned, a very small cup in his right hand and a bottle of diluted bleach in his left from the kitchen.  You watched as he poured a small amount of clear liquid from the brown bottle into the small cup before running the sink tap and filling it the rest of the way with plain water.  He handed the cup to you with no instructions before lightly spritzing the porcelain basin with the diluted chemical, running the tap once more and washing your blood away, making sure to scrub the entire bowl.  He finally turned around to face you.
“I need you to swish that in your mouth for a few seconds, and then spit it out in the sink,” he directed.  “It might taste kind of bitter.”
You carefully pulled the gauze out of your mouth, wincing as some of the light fibers pulled against your wounded muscle, but followed his directions and tossed the contents of the small cup back into your mouth, swishing with your cheeks puffed, trying to focus the liquid onto your wound.  Just as Law warned, the taste was bitter, vaguely salty, but definitely not pleasant.  Law finally stepped aside from the sink after a long 30 seconds and let you spit.  Both the gauze and the clear solution you rinsed your mouth with were lacking blood, meaning your wound was already on the clotting and healing path.
After sputtering for a few moments, the faint smell of diluted bleach filling your nose from the sink, you placed the cup down on the counter and gazed at Law, who watched you with a keen eye.  “What was that?”
“Hydrogen peroxide and water,” he uttered.  “To disinfect your tongue.  Luckily, peoples’ mouths tend to heal much faster than other body parts, so after a day or two of discomfort, you should be back to normal.”
Cleaned and disinfected, you finally started to let your mind sink on the gravity of the situation, your heart rate increasing and your eyes once again growing heavy and blurry with impending tears.  You watched as Law, avoiding your gaze with a deep frown on his lips, grabbed your rinse cup from the counter and turned to head back to your kitchen.  You quickly grabbed the fabric of his shirt sleeve to stop him in his tracks, the fuzziness of your vision causing the colors of his form in front of you to waver and warp, but that didn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around his lean torso in a hug, the warm wetness from your eyes soaking the cotton of his clothing.
“Please don’t leave,” you uttered into his chest, your body trembling.  With the adrenaline finally subsiding, the pain radiating from your jaw grew more and more noticeable.  Every movement seemed to irritate your bruised bone, and talking felt like trying to articulate with a lead weight attached to your mandible.  
With your face smushed into his clothing, you didn’t see when Law placed the cup back down on your counter, only hearing the soft tap of the plastic against the linoleum surface.  His arms carefully, as if to not shatter you where you stood, wrapped around your waist, one hand coming to rest comfortably in between your shoulder blades, his fingers sprawling out over your spine before retracting and collecting some of the fabric from your own shirt into his inked fingers.  It felt like his hand was made specifically to bring you comfort.
It took some time for you to calm yourself down enough to relocate from the bathroom doorway to the small living space you typically shared with your roommate when she was home.  You listened with your head resting on a soft pillow and an ice pack nursing your jaw as Law busied himself between your bathroom and kitchen, washing the cup, cleaning off the bathroom counter and sink for a second time, and disposing of the small garbage bag where your bloody gauze had ended up.  Your living room was dark, with the only light coming from the kitchen, just enough to catch glimpses of Law’s shadow moving about the space.  Your face ached from the force of crying against your bruised jaw bone, your eyelids uncomfortably sliding over your corneas, dry and fragile after expelling what was easily the rest of the water in your body.
After what felt like an eternity, Law finally emerged from the kitchen, carefully approaching your laid out form on the couch.  He kneeled in front of you and adjusted the ice pack against your cheek slightly, the tenderness of his fingers ghosting over your own.  Your heart galloped in your chest.
“I’m sorry I dragged you into that mess,” you groaned, forcing your dry eyes closed to avoid Law’s pensive stare.
“You didn’t drag me into anything.  I acted on my own,” he replied stoically, his hand remaining within close proximity to your own.  His tattooed fingers flexed a few times, eager to take your hand in his, but he eventually relented and let his limb fall back to his side.
You shifted uncomfortably on the couch, curling your legs up toward your chest.  “But you could’ve gotten hurt.”
Law bit the inside of his cheek at your words, his own chest clenching in disdain, not for you, but for the hyena that had left you feeling such a way.  “I don’t care if I get hurt if it means you stay safe.”
When your eyes opened, they were small.  Weak.  Like you had been fighting some unknown battle in your skull for as long as you could remember.  You truly looked tired and ragged, and Law wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms until all your life’s woes flushed away like the aftermath of a rainstorm.
“Law…” you began, your mouth opening and closing a few times, at a loss for what to continue with.  “I never really liked Bellamy.”
The man stayed quiet, his lips pulled in a taut line.
“But sometimes, when you get really uncomfortable, all you can do is laugh and smile.  Because you hope that acting friendly and cordial and cute will keep you safe from danger.”  Your voice was so fragile, your words mumbled as you continued to cradle your jaw with the thawing ice pack against your skin.  “I never wanted to hang out with Bellamy, but he scared me so much and I just… didn’t know how to say no.  I didn’t want to get hurt.”
Again.
Law’s own jaw clenched, suppressing a bubbling rage as he relived the blonde’s actions from a few hours prior.  A deep-rooted maniacal side of the medical student wished he could gut the D-1 athlete in his sleep, but what good would that do?  It certainly wouldn’t help you in the way you needed it.  And the fact that your attempts to protect yourself had only led you to getting attacked in the first place made his blood boil in his veins.  But he needed to stay calm for you.  Anger solves no issues.  He learned that from Cora, his best friends, and now you.
A bout of anger got you out of the situation you were stuck in, and now you needed comfort.
“What…” he began, stumbling.  “What do you want from me?  To help you?”
After a few brief moments of silence, the only sound cutting through the darkness being the faint wrrr of your air conditioning unit, you finally spoke up.  “Can you spend the night with me?”
Law blinked once, then twice.  “Here?”
“Yeah.  In my room.”
He gazed at you through the darkness, his golden eyes widened.  “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
You emitted a small gust of air through your nose.  “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”
Fair enough.  “Do you have anywhere you want me to sleep?” he asked, helping you sit up against the couch cushions and carefully easing the ice back off of your jaw.  The swelling had gone down substantially, but it would still take a week or two for the bruise to fully heal.
One of your hands remained planted against his shoulder, gripping the cotton of his shirt.  “In my bed.  I feel safe with you, Law.  It’s really okay.”
After receiving your words of affirmation, Law stood from his crouched position and guided you to stand through the darkness, his hand in yours and the other clutched around the ice pack.  He discarded the item on your kitchen counter to be dealt with in the morning, keen on getting you comfortable under your secure blankets.  You gladly followed him, stepping carefully through the dark home into your bedroom where you blindly navigated to your bedside lamp, pulling down on the cord to activate the light.  The warm orange glow flooded the room, making the two of you squint your eyes.
Law could finally see just how bad your bruise really was.  A large, black and blue swollen welt tinged with red the exact size of a harshly clenched fist was carved across your skin.  The sight of the impact was much more swollen compared to the other side.  You had taken a hit most street thugs hadn’t ever dealt with.
“It’s really bad, isn’t it,” you asked, voice still paper-thin and anxious. 
“It’s… definitely a decent injury,” Law responded bluntly, inwardly cursing himself at his awkward language.
You didn’t hold it against him, however.  Instead, you stripped off your clothes, crawling into bed and leaving the other side open for Law.
“You’re really okay with this?” he asked, one more time.
You nodded.  “Yes.”
Law followed your initial lead, taking off his jeans, followed by his shirt and socks, leaving only his boxers covering him.  He carefully crawled into the space in your blankets you had left open for him, laying on his back like a plank with his hands awkwardly draped over his abdomen.  You pulled down on the cord to your lamp once more and flooded the room with darkness.
The med student felt the mattress dip as you moved closer to him, effortlessly draping yourself over his body, as if you were made to fit into the crevice of his neck.  His hands found their position around your back and waist yet again, surrounding you in the comfort you had been longing for all night.  You nestled your face into the soft skin of his neck, slow, deep breaths setting a hypnotic, drowsy pace for the both of you to fall into slumber.
No words had to be exchanged, not until the morning at least.  Your legs tangled together and your hearts beating in sync did all the talking for now.
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vanteguccir · 3 months ago
Note
chris/matt’s gf confessing she feels anxious and insecure and is worried they’re going to leave her for someone else
── ୨୧ ! a small blurb where you confess your insecurities to Matt
        𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
Y/N sat on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, her fingers nervously twisting a strand of her hair. Matt was in the kitchen, his back to her as he prepared dinner. The rhythmic sound of chopping vegetables should have been soothing, but Y/N's mind was a storm of anxious thoughts.
She had been feeling this way for weeks now, the gnawing fear that Matt would leave her for someone else. It was irrational. She knew that. Matt had never given her a reason to doubt his love, even with all the girls who threw themselves at him for his fame or all the things she read on the internet about him. He was always there for her, always attentive, always caring. But the fear had taken root deep within her, growing stronger with each passing day.
"Hey, dinner's almost ready." Matt called out, turning to flash her a warm smile. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the way they always did when he was genuinely happy. It made Y/N's heart ache with love and fear in equal measure.
She knew she had to tell him. She couldn't keep bottling up her insecurities, letting them fester and poison their relationship. But the thought of voicing her fears made her stomach churn. What if he thought she was being ridiculous? What if he got angry or, worse, decided she was too much trouble and left?
Matt must have sensed something was off because his smile faded, replaced by a look of concern. He walked over to the grey couch, sitting down beside her and taking her hands in his.
"Hey, dove, what's wrong? You seem really tense."
Y/N took a deep breath, her heart pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it.
"Matt, I... I need to talk to you about something. It's been bothering me for a while now."
He squeezed her hands gently, his eyes searching hers, frowning in concern and worry.
"Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right, babe?"
She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes.
"I know, but it's hard..." She paused, taking a deep breath. "I've been feeling really anxious and insecure lately. I can't shake the fear that you're going to leave me for someone else. I don't know..." She lowered her eyes in shame.
Matt's brow furrowed in confusion and concern.
"Why would you think that? I've never given you a reason to doubt me, have I?"
"No, no, you haven't. Never." Y/N said, her voice trembling. "You've always been amazing. But I can't help it. I'm so scared that you'll find someone better, someone who isn't as insecure and anxious as I am. Someone who is at the same level as you're, who's famous and rich... And who looks like a model."
Matt’s brow furrowed with a mix of sadness and worry. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before responding.
"Y/N." He began, his voice gentle yet firm. "You are amazing just the way you are. I don't care about fame, money, or looks. None of that matters to me. What matters is you, the person I fell in love with. Your heart, your kindness, your intelligence. Those are the things that make you special to me."
He paused, making sure she was really listening, his hands still holding hers tightly.
"I'm not interested in someone who’s just a pretty face or has a lot of money. I want someone who understands me, who I can share my life with, and who loves me for who I am. And that's you, Y/N. I don’t want anyone else."
Matt leaned closer, his eyes searching hers for any sign that she was beginning to understand.
"Your insecurities and anxieties don’t make you less to me. They’re part of what makes you human, what makes you real. And I love every part of you, even the parts that you find hard to love yourself. You're not just enough for me; you're everything I’ve ever wanted and more."
He cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down her cheek.
"Please don’t ever think you have to compare yourself to anyone else. You are irreplaceable to me, Y/N. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll face your fears together, one step at a time."
Y/N’s tears flowed freely now. She leaned into Matt's touch, feeling the warmth and sincerity in his words wash over her. She buried her face in his chest, the warmth of his embrace soothing her frayed nerves.
"But what if I push you away with my fears? What if I become too much for you to handle?"
He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes.
"That won't happen. I'm here for the long haul, no matter what. We all have our insecurities, and it's okay to feel the way you do. What's important is that we talk about it, just like we're doing now."
Y/N sniffled, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"You always know just what to say."
Matt chuckled, brushing a tear from her cheek.
"That's because I love you, and I hate seeing you upset. We're a team, remember? We'll get through this together." He repeated.
She nodded, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.
"Thank you, baby. I feel a little better now."
He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin.
"Anytime, love. Now, let's go finish dinner before it burns."
Y/N laughed, the sound light and free. As they stood and walked back to the kitchen hand in hand, she felt a sense of peace settle over her.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year ago
Text
Better Man
Summary:Jason fucks up one to many times, luckily there is Eddie who is happy to pick up the pieces.
Warnings: Older Eddie x Reader. (reader is in her 20's, Eddie is thirty eight) age gap, 18 + Minors shoo! Kinda mean Eddie, then Soft Eddie. Modern fic.
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Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.
❤️
Jason was such a loser. He had been caught flirting with a few girls at the Halloween party they had attended together and you had left him.
Finally.
It had been weeks of making up, breaking up and just a plain, toxic vibe. You deserved better and wanted out.
You went to the one person who you knew would understand. Who could make it better. Who pleasured you, fulfilled you in ways that Jason could never ever do
Eddie.
He opens the door to his trailer and your stomach flips, filling with butterflies at the sight of him.
Fuck, he was so sexy.
His hair is in a messy bun, he's shirtless, wearing slacks and there's a smirk on his face.
"Hey pretty girl" his brown eyes rake over your body and you shiver in excitement.
"Hi" you're breathless with anticipation, knowing what the night entails. Knowing its Eddie you really want and not Jason dickhead Carver.
"The dickhead mess up again?" you nod and feel shy under his scrutinizing gaze. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and cocks his eyebrow.
"We're done"
"The boy can't satisfy you so you coming running to me again princess?" he tsks and you pause, unsure if he wants you here.
Maybe he has another woman over? You weren't exclusive or anything. Even though you had fallen quickly for Eddie, the two of you only started as a casual hook up.
Eddie's uncle was friends with your family, that's how you got to know Eddie. His reputation proceeded him, he was hot as fuck, had women wrapped around his finger and he knew it.
One look in his big doe brown eyes and you found it hard not to melt, you resisted. Just barely.
The thought of someone with him made your stomach ache, your heart clench.
"Do you want me to go? If you have someone with you, I don't want to interrupt" his features soften and he chuckles.
"I see that look in your eyes sweetheart, you jealous of all that shit?" you look away, shrugging and he tugs the waistband of your jeans so your close to him.
"I like when you're jealous sweet girl, gets me all fucking hot" he kisses you before you can respond and leads you to his bedroom.
❤️
Eddie has your arms pinned above your head, there's a mean, mocking smile on his face.
"So Carver couldn't satisfy you princess and you come to me" he teases as he thrusts inside you hard.
"Eddie, please, need you" You moan and he begins to move, slowly.
"You just love when my cock is buried in you huh? Such a greedy, greedy girl" he mocks as he drags his thrusts out until your a mewling mess underneath him.
He wants you to beg, you refuse to give in but the ache you feel is growing stronger.
"Eddie" you whine and he moves a little faster this time.
"Uh, uh princess. You're being so rude. I didn't hear please" he coos and you huff, desperate for release and begin to grind yourself against him, gritting out "please" as you do so.
His eyes fill with lust and he moves faster, hips snapping against yours as you both move together.
"You feel so fucking good sweetheart, tight. Mine"
The sensations going through your body is delicious and by the time you reach your climax, you're screaming into Eddie's shoulder, legs shaking from how intense the orgasm was.
Eddie soon follows, spilling into you. His hand gripping yours and an awed look on his face, he slowly pulls out and lays beside you.
You lay together for a moment before he speaks, his fingers caressing your hair.
"There's no one else princess, not for a while. Only you" it answers your question and at the same time your heart is racing as you think of the implications on what he said.
He presses a kiss to your lips and takes his sweet ass time, kissing every inch of your body as he makes his way down to the apex of your thighs.
Before you can ask about what he said your phone lights up with a call. Ugh. Jason.
Eddie's eyes darken and he glares at the phone.
"Answer it" he tells you and continues teasing near your clit. You pout.
"Do I have to? I think I gave the asshole the message earlier. I wish he'd leave me alone"
Wasn't dumping your drink on him and giving his cocky, condescending face a slap enough of a message? It certainly was a cathartic moment for you.
You answer the phone and immediately Jason is yelling and belittling you, Eddie stills when he hears Jason yelling at you.
"Will you fuck off Jason. I told you we're done for good" You snap at him losing patience.
"Tell him to talk nicer to you or I'll knock his teeth down his throat" Eddie growls and the protectiveness in his tone makes you feel all warm and fuzzy.
"Who's that? You bitch!" Jason yells and Eddie gestures for the phone, which you give to him curious at what he will say.
"Listen here dickhead. She's not interested, Infact, I'm currently between her thighs and making her scream, which is more than a limp dick fuck like you ever could"
Jason goes silent. You can almost picture that agog expression on his face.
"Eddie Munson. She's fucking you?" he squeals and Eddie smiles.
"Let's get this straight here Carver, she is my girl. I don't like to share, fuck off and stop bothering her or I will be very pissed off and have to tell you in person. Wouldn't want you to shit your pants or anything. We clear?"
Jason gulps. "Crystal" Jason hangs up and you dissolve into giggles and sit up, leaning over to kiss Eddie.
"That was kinda hot. Also I'm your girl?" you say teasing him but full of hope and he kisses you, leaving you a little breathless.
"I want to be with you sweetheart. You've gone and stolen my heart. I adore you and I'll treat you better than that Carver idiot ever could"
Thrilled you kiss him, nodding happily and his arms wrap around yours as you cuddle into him and he kisses your forehead.
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dumbseee · 10 months ago
Text
thunder and lightning.
in which, you and jude broke up after a long relationship and you perform the song you wrote for him, in front of him at the ballon d’or ceremony.
jude bellingham x singer!reader.
fc: madison beer.
note: please read this and listen to "thunder and lightning" by serayah. / might turn this into a small serie 🤭
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liked by bellahadid, tatemcrae, sabrinacarpenter and 1 829 000 others.
y/n: my most precious and raw song "thunder and lightning" is now yours 🤍 now it’s time to grow and move on.
_
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_
you were standing in the middle of this big stage. in front of these important people, some of them used to be people you’d hang out with. but breaking up with jude meant saying goodbye to them too, even if it was hard since you made good friendships thanks to your ex. it was too hard to keep contact with them without jude haunting your thoughts, and they understood that. your break up with jude occured a few months ago now, and you thought you were doing better, but being on this stage, about to perform the song you wrote in one hour, the day he broke up with you, sent shivers all over your body. and you even considered running away.
but you were stronger than before, you worked hard on this song and you needed jude to hear it. you looked absolutely stunning in this dress, you tried to put a smile on your face but only pain and anxiety could be seen. you saw all these people looking at you, some with adoration, others with envy and some with sadness because they knew how hurt you were. thunder and lightning started and you closed your eyes before taking a deep breath. you got this.
"can't you look at me and see that i love ya? and i’d do anything for ya?" you began, looking at the crowd but your eyes immediately found his. you almost stutter on the lyrics but immediately closed your eyes to refocus. his eyes were glowing and his face was torn with concern and almost regret. ha, too late for that boy. "and i’ll do anything for ya, climb up mount everest without a rope, dive into the bermuda without a boat." because it was true, you could do anything for this boy, anything and everything without thinking it twice. you loved him with your whole soul, it was insane. you could’ve quit music if he asked, and that without a second thought because that’s how loyal and in love you were.
"like thunder and lightning, we were meant to be, wrapped up inside your arms, that's right where i belong." you hit the hook with more vulnerability in your voice, it resonated in the whole room and inside people’s heart. you knew some people in the audience would relate to your situation, girlfriends of footballers who suffered the disrespect of their partner. or even footballers themselves having their heart broken by women who never actually loved them. this song wasn’t just about you and jude, it was about this feeling of despair when you see the person you love, leaving you heartbroken and alone. you saw some old friends bobbing their heads to your song and even sending smiles and thumbs ups to you.
you soon end the song, for a minute the room is frozen in silence, no one moves. and the one to break the ice was jude, he got up and clapped you like no one ever clapped for you. soon enough the whole room followed, giving you a standing ovation. you felt your eyes getting watery as you locked eyes with jude, his expression was unreadable. you were the one to break the eye contact as you bowed to the audience and blowed a kiss to the camera. you left the stage and almost ran backstage to let the tears you kept inside since the beginning of the performance, run down your cheeks. you let yourself fall to the ground, your agent and friend hugged you from behind and kissed the top of your head. "let’s go home now." you whispered between a sob.
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liked by trentarnold66, vinijr, rodrygogoes and 3 729 028 others.
judebellingham: such an honour to win these trophies. making my parents proud and being a good role model for my brother has always been my top priority, thank you for the support and thank you for always being by my side.
_
fan1: CONGRATS KING
fan2: deserved so much more but i’m so happy for him
fan3: making the parents proud >>
fan4: the fact that y/n was there too and probably congratulated him :(
fan5: lmao nah she probably left after the performance, she hates his ass now
fan6: as she should tbh
fan7: y/n deserved way better
vinijr: 🔥🔥🔥
philfoden: congrats mate! keep shinning 💪🏼
fan8: i’m a huge fan but you should be held accountable for how you treated y/n
fan9: DON’T LISTEN TO THE HATERS KING
fan10: the future of football is right there
fan11: keep showing them who’s the boss jude!
fan12: he looked so good tho 🥴
fan13: finally a stylist who does him justice
deuxmoi: hm, being a good role model right? then care to explain why a little bird came to us with receipts about the night she had with you, while you were dating y/n?
fan14: WTF
fan15: WTFFFABSKSKSLDDD WHAT IS THIS
fan16: nah they must be lying jude would NEVER cheat
fan17: deuxmoi isn’t even a reliable source!
fan18: yeah but apparently they got receipts so…
view all comment.
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y/n just posted a story!
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caption: couldn’t relate more.
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mermaidgirl30 · 3 months ago
Text
✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Epilogue✨
Club Owner! Joel Miller x fem! reader
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Series Masterlist
A/N: Thank you to @alltheirdamn for beta reading for me and loving Joel and Angel as much as I do 🥹 This series has meant the world to me, and it’s been so healing to write. I can’t wait to write a whole book about them 🥰
Chapter Summary: As days turn to long months, your love for Joel only grows stronger. And tonight, you’re right back where it all began.
Word Count: 2.1k
Rating: 18+ only MDNI
Tags: Just a lot of fluff and Joel and Angel being in love 🥹
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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Three Months Later
The vibrant colors of pink and shades of ruby reds fill your peripheral vision as you make your way through Club Inferno, which is now called Angel’s Place. A place that’s become like a second home; a place you’ve come to love because this is Joel’s, and he’s made it as much yours as it is his.
As you pass the lit-up bar, you nod to Tommy, who’s standing behind the bar in his black leather jacket, conversing with one of the blonde bartenders. He smiles your way, and that big grin nearly covers his entire face when he lifts a glass of whiskey to you and pushes locks of greasy black hair back into place.
Tommy feels like as much a part of your family as Joel is now, and you can’t imagine not having either of them in your life. They anchored you when you were slipping under the stormy waves, pulling you free from the darkness and impending doom. You won’t ever thank them enough for showing you what a real family feels like but also what stability feels like.
Giving him a friendly wave, you turn and push your way through the rowdy crowd, stepping into the quiet hallway that’s draped with muted pink lights and hanging mirrors. Your heart thunders in your chest the closer you get to Joel’s office, overly excited to see your favorite person in the entire world who’s also the absolute love of your life.
Your love. Yours.
Smiling ridiculously wide to the point where your face hurts, you stand in front of those glossy black doors, the ones that’ll lead you to Joel. When you flick your eyes up, they become a little misty each time you stare at your mark he imprinted on his club.
A sign that’s the color of a light pink blush sparkles on top of the door, and the name takes your breath away every single time your eyes trace over those words. Angel’s Place marks the wall with sparkly wings that hover on the outsides of the name. And it feels like it's yours more and more each time you see it glowing in the hallway.
He told you he put it right over his office because that’s where you belong, with him. And it’s probably one the sweetest things he’s ever done. No one has ever gone through this much effort for you, but Joel did. In fact, he gave you the entire world.
God. You love this man with every fiber of your being, and you don’t think you’ll ever stop. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted.
Latching your hand against the large door handle, you turn it and step through the heavy doors, immediately met with the smell of spearmint, whiskey, and scents of freshly chopped wood. Joel’s signature scents. Your favorite smells. You waft in his presence and lean against the now closed door, your eyes staring straight into the center of the room at your man.
He’s wearing one of his favorite green flannels, sleeves rolled up to the elbows to expose those thick, veiny arms you love to get wrapped up in. His tousled dark locks are slicked back by some expensive gel, and you can’t help but smile at how gorgeous he looks under the dim lighting of his office. Even with his nose stuck in some paperwork, you think he’s the handsomest man you’ve ever seen. And you just can’t believe he’s yours.
He sighs and flips over a stack of white papers, groaning into the air. “Tommy, not right now. I said I’m…”
“I’m not Tommy,” you giggle.
Joel looks up from his piled up paperwork, and a wide grin slowly spreads over his plush mouth. The mouth you love to kiss. “You sure as hell ain’t, sweetheart.”
“You busy?” you ask sweetly, letting your hand linger on the painted door as you pull away and start to head toward his mahogany desk.
“Never too busy for my girl. C’mere.” He throws the stack of papers out of his hands, not even caring that some fly over the desk onto the floor. Pushing his leather office chair back, he coaxes you forward, curling his thick fingers in a come hither motion until you’re close enough to where he can reach you. He snatches your hips and pulls you onto his lap, his strong arms circling your waist until you’re face to face with him.
“Hi,” he smiles, pushing a loose strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.
“Hi,” you purr back, your hands locking around his neck. “I missed you today.”
“Not as much as I missed you, Angel. Been dreamin’ about kissin’ those pretty red lips of yours all damn day,” he says, his fingertips trailing down your skin and lingering on your cheek, making you blush from the affection that’s slipping from his glistening brown eyes.
“Well, now you can, handsome.” You part your full lips and give him a big smile, and he just can’t stop staring in awe, like you’re a diamond in the rough. You’re his diamond.
“C’mere then, babygirl.” He tugs you flush to his chest and presses his lips against yours, eliciting a deep sigh when his mouth melds to yours. He tastes like whiskey and smells like an autumn day, out in the woods where pine trees and chestnuts permeate throughout the cool air.
He smells like your favorite scent, and you want to bottle it up and keep it forever. Maybe make your own perfume so you can smell like him every time you’re apart.
He’s got you hooked, and you’ll never be able to let go.
“God, I’ll never get tired of kissin’ you. You’re sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted before,” he pants out through messy kisses, reeling you back in to lick inside your mouth.
You open wider, allowing him to swallow your moans whole with every stroke of his tongue, hands roaming through his tousled hair, making him groan into your mouth while his fingers press further into your hips. It’s like the room is on fire, and both of your bodies are the center of the heated flames.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Angel,” he mouths, nipping at your bottom lip and teasing you on.
“Oh, Joel. Stop. You’re making me blush,” you giggle, nuzzling your nose against his in an affectionate way.
“Well, s’true. You’re the sweetest thing that’s ever walked into my life. And I want you to know, you make me the happiest man in the world.” He smiles and kisses your cheek, his lips dragging along the shell of your ear, nipping and teasing as he elicits another giggle from your lips.
“And you, Joel Miller, make me the happiest woman. I love you.” You curl your fingers over the soft material of his green collar and stare into beautiful brown eyes.
“Not as much as I love you, Angel. You really know how to make a man’s life light up with that beautiful smile of yours.” He pushes your hair to the side and slowly plays with the strands like they’re guitar strings, his fingers expertly working as they drag along the back of your head.
Another groan and you’re tugging him forward. “Come here, handsome.” Your mouths meet again, hot and fiery like the first night you met him, simmering sparks flying across the warm air as your lips lock together. There’s a hunger in his kiss, like he wants to devour you whole, but he’s also so gentle, and you think he’s the perfect combination. He’s dominant and soft. So very soft.
When your lips break apart and your ragged breaths fill the air, he cups your cheeks in his large palms and a soft smile curls against his mouth. “Why don’t we take this in the back, where it all began.”
You smile and crawl off his lap, locking your fingers with his as you tug him forward. “Take me to the back then, Mr. Club Owner.”
He chuckles and licks his bottom lip, pulling you out of his office and back into the dark hallway, back where it all began. “Follow me then, Angel.”
You gladly follow after him, your glittery heels clicking against the polished floor, his eyes dark and dangerous, a smirk curled against his mouth. His eyes flick back and forth between you and the last door in the hallway, and your heart pounds impossibly fast at the possibilities of tonight.
You haven’t been back in this room in weeks, but tonight is your lucky night. Because this room right here is where everything began. It’s where you found all-consuming pleasure, where you found this dominant yet gentle man, where you fell in love with those big sappy brown eyes you want to drown in, and now he’s all yours. Now you’re free. Free to love, to be vulnerable, to express your feelings without any consequences.
Joel freed you from your dark shades; now you’re just a swirl of vibrant, glittering colors that paint the sky bright hues of pinks and violets.
He tugs you through the sleek doors and leads you across the shiny floor, past the embers of the crackling fireplace, right to the felt-topped pool table. Wrapping his arms around your waist tight, he picks you up and lays you down against the soft velvety material and crawls over you, your legs splayed wide as he hovers over you, his lips brushing softly against yours.
His arms cage you in, his broad body crowding your space until you can’t smell anything but him crashing against you like a rolling wave. Your body hums with electricity, the blood pumping through your veins violently, and your center is already slick for him, ready to take on anything he has for you.
“Look at us, right back where it all started,” he hums, the pads of his fingers brushing locks of hair behind your ear, trailing them down down down until he’s hiking the skirt of your dress up, teasing you slowly and gently.
“Look at us,” you whisper back, eyes glistening like gold when he tips his head down and looks at you with those soft, sappy brown eyes you just can’t get enough of. If you had an option, you’d fall right into them, let him drown you until all you can see is him.
He’s all you ever want to see. Forever.
His lips brush against yours as light as a feather, and you melt into the pool table, letting your fingernails trace against his greying scruff, tangling your other hand at the back of his neck in those smooth curls that feel like silk.
“You gonna be mine forever, Angel?” he smiles, leaving a trail of kisses down your cheek and ending at the base of your neck.
“Mmm, yes. I’m yours, Joel. Forever and ever. I’ve always been yours.”
His lips crash into yours like a tidal wave, everything else in the room fading to black. It’s just you and Joel, your pink shades mixing with his dark reds, colliding into mere bliss as the kiss envelops you fully.
He pulls off just enough to mutter those three words you love to hear repeatedly. “I love you, Angel. Always have and always will.”
“And I love you, handsome. You’re my forevermore.”
His lips fall back on yours, and then the night fades away while he makes passionate love to you on top of the pool table. But this time it’s not just lust. No. It’s a beautiful, everlasting love that can move mountains.
Your love for Joel is infinite, as is his. You had to go through the dark times to find the light, and Joel showed you that light. He lit every single spotlight he could find and pulled you out of the dark pits of despair. He saved you in every way a girl would want to be saved.
He was the reason you found love again. He was your savior, and he gave you wings so you could fly. He showed you what it was like to be fully loved, and it was beautiful like a brand new pair of white wings.
And when you couldn’t fly; he caught you and taught you how to fly again. He was your safety net, and you finally knew what it felt like to be loved.
Joel is love, and he’s everything you’ll ever need.
This club, this room is a sacred place. It’s Joel’s and yours. And it’s where your love will continue to grow, forever.
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blueparadis · 2 years ago
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+ cw. —› ex-husband aizen souske x (fem)reader, headcanon format, yan!behaviour, smût, angst undertones, marking, jealousy, mentions of breeding kink & baby-trapping | +wc. —0.7kish
+ notes. —› i was listening to cherry waves by deftones ( for the first time ) & this happened. maybe I'll pull this into a fic but for now, have this, please || redirect to blog navigation.
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+. ex!husband aizen souske who feels his throat dry, lips corrosive against his favorite drink when he sees you in a cheap restaurant with another guy, considerably younger to y/n, who is alluded in her charms like he was when he first saw her walking down the aisle; when he casually stopped by, at that cheap bar after a long day at work.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who makes sure that from now on he will pay a visit to you and his beloved daughters every weekend so that she does not have to look for affection at some cheap bars and restaurants. This way at least he can ask her if she is actually planning for her second innings or not.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who calls you at ungodly hours: on a warm afternoon or in the dead of night just to let remind you that he will be coming to pick you up after work tomorrow for a weekly visit with his daughters just so his other meetings do not get delayed but all he wants to do is to keep you on watch as much as possible.
+. ex!husband aizen souske occasionally sends gifts to his daughters in order to send his ex-wife expensive presents with personal notes, as if he will return to this home after his work as if he never left.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who checks you out when you're unaware and yet tells you in that familiar deep husky tone: how much those colors suit her that he hated once, how much she looks charming and beautiful, how much she changed since he left and maybe divorce looks good on her : independent and elegant like a free bird.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who thinks her new young boyfriend is not good enough for you, always ends up going to the same restaurants and hotels where he used to take her, just remembering those good old memories.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who wants you back can not just let this opportunity slide, that is, him visiting you when the daughters are not home; so he just asks if you ever regret it or not as if he still can, as if he owns you. And, when he is responded with the same question right back at him he secretly congratulates himself for getting under your skin.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who knows your weak points lets you walk away knowing very well that you will turn around to have a last glance at him. So, all he would do is not turn his gaze when you have already walked passed by him, so that when you turn around all he has to do is to grab your wrists above her head saying, “Answer me. I asked you a question. Do you or do you not regret it?”
+. ex!husband aizen souske who is currently inches apart from you, staring right into your eyes while you squirm and look away but his hold on you grows only stronger when he sees your beautiful eyes glistening more than it usually does, perhaps he scared you a bit, cocks his head to a side, in the dip of your neck inhaling her scent murmuring, “Still wearing that perfume I gifted you, huh ?”
+. ex!husband aizen souske who is absorbed in the good old memories of you, your scent, and what he used to do whenever you used to cry and look sad is now slowly curling his arms around your waist while his lips drag from the corner of your lips to the neckline and then on to collar bones.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who smirks the moment he hears you moaning, even if it's feeble he lets go of her hands so that you can rest them over his shoulders while he could carry her to the nearby cupboard top to make you feel less lonely. He has fucked her there, made babies with her and he can do it again.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who could already feel you gripping the collar of his suit while he presses his hard-on against your entrance is already marking all the way up your exposed neckline so that whenever you meet with your new young boyfriend, he would take the hint right away. There is no way he is losing to a mere boy like Gin Ichimaru. He has to be the better one.
– @tokyometronetwork & @underratedcharactercorner
@semisgroupie & @sailewhoremoon ( cuz you two like himmm ... that's why I tagged?! )
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