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#i would like to finish this book one day haha
foodiegoogie · 17 hours
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the marauders x you when you unlock a streak with each other on tiktok
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quick lil info! a tiktok streak happens when you message someone for 3 days in a row, and a streak badge (🔥) appears on the chat. then, hence the name ‘streak,’ it grows as you continue to exchange messages and tiktoks with e/o :]
note: heyyy 😋 it's been a hot minute since i posted anything worth of a read,, i was fighting for my life, finishing schoolwork HAHA but anyway, plz enjoy these headcannons in the meantime as i accomplish the requests rotting in my inbox, and continue my wips :P
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"babe, are you okay? because our streak isn't. i need you to hold your end of the deal here!"
𓄃 let's be real.. james would be SO dramatic abt it. mans is devoted and loyal in every way, shape, and form—tiktok streak included!
𓄃 so when it does happen, he would never let you hear the end of it. ever. if he sees the lil fire badge on ur chat in grey and not orange? trust that he'll remind you to reply so the streak continues (indefinitely, in his preference)
𓄃 would send you the most unhinged of tiktoks; ranging from silly dances ("we should do this!!!" he would say), wholesome reminders of his love for you, and the whole shebang!!!!
𓄃 "haha this is so u" and it can either be smth super sweet n cute or smth he thought was funny but it isnt to u (in a funny way btw :3)
𓄃 but even tho our boy is a lil obnoxious most of the time, he understands ofc that realistically, the streak will have to die down for a few days :(
𓄃 but that's alright, no biggie! james is in love with u, enough to forgive u for not continuing the streak–
"are u mad at me?"
"what? no! jamie- no."
"okay :)"
(pregnant pause)
"baby?"
"yeah?"
"...our streak?"
"(sighs in fond exasperation)"
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"dove, we need to talk about your screen time. yes, yes– i know, i'm a hypocrite for saying that. but my point still stands–"
☾ remus lupin is a total grandpa. in theory? nay. in essence and style? thru and thru baby!
☾ honestly i can imagine that at the beginning of ur relationship orrr myb the honeymoon phase, remus only has tiktok installed cuz a) u told him to bcoz u need him to see the stuff that comes up in ur fyp and b) it's the 21st century? it's basically this generation's newspaper now. get with the times!
☾ when a streak happens between u guys tho, it's him that accidentally unlocks it. why? oh! cuz he makes sure to reply and react to each and every single message and tiktok u send him!!! TEEHEE
☾ "oh look love!!! this is so us 🥺💞" and then 10 seconds (or less) later a notif pops up, rjlupin reacted with ❤ to your message
☾ he may follow up a reply of either "i love you" or a "ur so cheesy 😂"
☾ once remus gets the hang of it tho, he would absoluuuutely be committed to the streak.
☾ all he ever sends u is date ideas and book recs (coming from solid booktok accs btw, he isnt stupid) and those really wholesome hopecore tiktoks or slideshows of rly hard-hitting quotes that he thought was nice and thinks u should see as well :((
☾ but he's highly aware (as the quote above this hc suggests) that keeping this streak up is a team effort, and he's aware that u guys r similar in the way that ur both sleep-deprived 😭 and are prone to staying up late at night, doom scrolling on whatever socmed app or stuck inside a gripping chapter of a book :>
☾ it’s even gotten to the point where he just knows ur up at the same time he is, especially late at night. and so when the clock strikes midnight:
dove, u need to sleep. goodnight ❤️ no, YOU need to sleep ❤️ goodnight ily i love u too 🥰 but seriously, go to sleep. but our streak 🥺 it wont die. anw, im facetiming u so i know ur sleeping
☾ BONUS HC OMG ?! he would so totally be one of those bfs who would video call u as u guys r going 2 sleep and OFCCCC IT ENDS UP BEING U FALLING ASLEEP FIRST AND HIM SMILING CUZ HE FINDS U SO ADORABLE LIKE THIS AAAAA
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“seriously, love? you know my love for you goes beyond sending you tiktoks every day, right?”
✶ sirius black, the nation's "bad boy", would actually be so bewildered by the whole thing LMAO he'd tease u endlessly my dude. Endlessly.
✶ but at the same time, he would secretly be kind of excited abt the whole thing :3 like what? he gets to spam u on tiktok with purpose now ???? he would (NOT) like to apologize for the nuisance he's about to become, actually
✶ the tiktoks that sirius sends u are mostly of biggg fashion accs showing off their wardrobe and doing mix n matches of diff clothing n stuff,, bcoz Duh !
✶ OH and he also sends u those rly well-made typography edits of lyrics from 70s to 80s songs because, again, DUH !
✶ he would soooooo send you those tiktoks that go "send this to ur friend and ask which berry u are!" and act all nonchalant abt it but would literally complain abt how u think of him as a raspberry, of all berries. i mean:
BUT BLACKBERRY WAS RIGHT THERE?? HOW COULD U MISS SUCH AN OPPORTUNITY??? then why did u even bother to send me this siri.... OH IM SORRY I GUESS IT WAS WRONG FOR ME TO EXPECT THAT WE'D BOTH THINK THAT I'D BE A BLACKBERRY sirius.... bffr dont 'bffr' me rn, im literally named Sirius??? treat my name w/ respect u brat!!??
✶ usually tho along with the fashion tiktoks, he'd send u the weirdest kind of shit ever. like corecore?? trippy skits??? creepy animations?? u name it, sirius will probably share it with u!
✶ if u somehow get suspiciously unresponsive in ur chat w/ him tho, which threatens the streak, he would worry loadssss like, "baby, you didn't reply to that tiktok i sent you earlier today. did i do something wrong?"
✶ ^^ kinda similar with james in a way HAHAHAH
✶ BONUS HC AS WELLLL but sirius would totally, absolutely post thirst traps of himself on tiktok.
✶ but then he'd always post them under the privacy setting of 'friends only,' and then tag u SPECIFICALLY in the captions bcoz "oh this? this is for your eyes only, love."
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AHHHH OMG this is my first time doing hcs!! i hope this format was ok w u guys hue hue :3 thanks 4 reading as alwayz 🫶
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https://www.tumblr.com/cheekinpermission/746227919612936192?source=share
Hope not late! 25 , 5 and 28👀👀
Nope not late at all!!
25. Which character(s) would you actively avoid? Personally, you would not see me anywhere near Vil, Rook or Sebek.
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I can appreciate Vil's efforts to have people more self-confident in their own image however I absolutely despise how forceful he goes about it, especially with Epel and the dance troupe. If I EVER caught him trying to change parts of myself that I'm proud of (my australian accent, my nerdy sense of fashion, etc.) it would be ON SIGHT- (Can you tell I'm still not over Book 5?)
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For Rook, i can say I..... respect his dedication and loyalty to his beliefs. However? That man... he scares me... Also, i'm still extremely salty over the VDC/SDC results WE SHOULD HAVE WON THAT AND WE LOST TO THE TWST EQUIVILANT OF BABY SHARK- Rook, i don't care about your reasonings for why we weren't at our best, I've seen the video performance AND THE NRC TRIBE FUCKING NAILED IT!!!
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And then our croccy boi- Now don't get me wrong, I do love Sebek as a member of the first year gang of idiots. I also don't know a lot about him personally since I've only known him in events and havent started Book 7 yet. From what I have seen, he does annoy me a lot with his blatant disregard and disrespect to anyone who isn't Malleus or Lilia. His ego and his racism also really piss me off and make me wanna slap some sense into him. I understand it comes from a place of self-loathing but dude, PLEASE read the room for once and not screech our ears off. I'm certain that I would eventually befriend him but if we actually met face to face, it would be a miracle for me to not punch him 1 minute after his insults.
5. If you could have any unique magic / signature spell in the game, which would you choose and why?
Ooooh I've never thought about that until now actually. Personally, i would want something that would be useful and practical both in a day to day life or in a fight since I'm not very physically strong. Going with that idea, i'd more than likely pick either Split Card or Paint The Roses/Doodle Suit. Multiple me's to help me do chores around the house or distract someone in a fight? YES PLEASE!! I also have a lot of sensory issues so I feel like Paint the Roses would really help me eat the things i need to or make a certain texture that feels funny to me turn comfortable. We've also seen how useful it can be in a fight during Riddle's Overblot when Trey turned the rosebush into cards and saved us.
If just for fun though, I'd love to try out any of Savanaclaw's UM's/SS's. Now THAT would be chaotic heheh.
28. What is the TWST related content that you've produced that you are most proud of?
I personally really love my HTTYD x TWST fic that i've been writing. Knowing myself, I probably wont ever finish/post it so I'll have what I've written linked here for anyone who's interested in my favourite brainworm lol. Bella is a very special oc near and dear to my heart as she's the first one that I've enjoyed writing for since being kicked out of home over a year ago. She gave me back my creativity and I couldn't be more thankful for it.
Right now, I've even been imagine a Fairly OddParents x TWST fic in my head which I think would be a BLAST to write, where my Twisted version of Timmy Turner (a girl called Izzy) would use their rule free wish to be a part of Wanda, Cosmo and Poof/Peri's family as their bio daughter when they're no longer her godparents and becomes a half-fairy hybrid in the process. The idea of a "magicless" girl at NRC who out of nowhere suddenly can not only make but GRANT wishes that bend the laws of reality around her is absolutely hilarious to me. Haha take that you pricks, you thought I was weak? BOOM you're a hedgehog, now you really are a prick. Rewatching FOP and seeing how Timmy can be such a menace/pos really makes me think he would fit in GREAT amongst NRC lol.
I'm also really proud of the Card edits I've done for other people where I turn their OC's into different rated cards so it looks like it's from the game. Seeing all the different kinds of OC's and hearing about their characters is so amazing.
Feel free to send in any more asks or questions!! I love interacting with the Twst Community <3
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drawnecromancy · 1 year
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Ohhh I am thinking about Hélianthe and Atropa again. I really do want them to be able to be soft with each other and just hang out and be in love or something.
I'm. I still have to put them through so much shit
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k1ngpin42 · 7 months
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POV: 𝘼𝙗𝙗𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧r- (mini fic)
Warnings: Dating, public 18+, dominant Abby, fingering
You, Abby, Mel, Manny and Whitney are sitting at a table in the WLF base. You and Abby aren’t allowed to be paired together on patrols anymore after Mel snitched about the time she caught you two fucking while on duty. To be fair, though, the door of the room you two were in had been locked from the outside, it wasn’t your fault Mel didn’t knock. 
Anyway, not being able to see her throughout the day was fucking with you. Images of what you two would do the night and morning before you’d go on patrol, things you two used to do at any available moment on away missions. Against the wall when the other soldiers turned their back, on the floor, against an old car,  on the table where you and the others would plan routes around seraphite camps, one time you even fucked while in a room full of clickers. (It was the most terrifying orgasm you had ever experienced if you’re being honest with yourself. Still amazing though.)
She sits down and the tension is immediate, you’d let her take you right here and now if she asked.
“Hey love, how were your assignments today?” She asks. Fuck. You didn’t know what was up with you today cause you were fucking wet at the site of her.
“What? Oh, yeah, it was alright…” You say, eyes scanning her body. You hear the others talk indistinctly and your gaze immediately drops to her hands.
“Did you really have to invite the game nerd?” You hear Mel whisper. You roll your eyes.
“Whitney’s my friend, Mel, don’t be a dick.” You tell her bluntly, and Whitney looks up at this. Mel looks at her with a guilty expression.
“Whitney I didn’t mean….”
“Oh it’s okay Mel. I can just sit by myself like I usually do.”
“Nonsense, you’re with us.” Manny reassures.
Once this drama clears up, Abby and Mel start telling the others stories about their mission today. Various jokes and exaggerations. None of this was relevant to you, though, cause for the love of everything holy, you couldn’t focus.
You watched as she enhanced her story with hand movements, her laugh was a melody in your ears, her voice a chorus. The veins on her hands were still prominent, she must have had to beat up some form of enemy, usually runners. Or maybe she had been lifting something heavy.
A smile smile pressed your lips at the thought of that. The thought of her big arms straining, she would groan slightly before the metal crate behind a door would move and she’d let out another satisfied sigh. Fuck. Those arms, those hands, you needed them inside you, on you, you didn’t care which. 
“He grabs the EMPTY gun and points it at the woman. She’s got a fuckin club or something and he says….well, something in Spanish.” Abby explains to the group who have been intently listening, making you feel slightly bad for zoning out.
“ Estás acabado, cabron. You are finished, asshole.” 
“Haha…nice.” Abby replies, taking a bite of her food. She looks over at you, who is still too focused on the way the vein on her right hand is more prominent than on her left. When she notices this, she smirks. That same cocky fucking smirk when she knows that, once again, she’s read you like a book.
“Hey so, that new training manual you read, what was it again?” She asks you as she slips a hand on your thigh. You’re wearing baggy blue jeans and even with them on you feel heat trickle down your spine.
“Oh the one about long guns? Well…the main premise is about rounds.” She moves her hand so it’s cupping your cunt through the fabric. 
“I-“ You clear your throat. “Each gun has a unique gear that allows the rounds to move more fl-“ Abby cautiously unzips the jeans. “Fluidly.” You explain. She starts teasing your pussy with her index fingers and painting your clit with slick.
“Have you tested it out on a gun? The upgrade?” Abby asks, watching you with an amused expression as she increases the pace.
“Wh-at…oh um, yeah.” You stumble over your words.
“Ah well you can come improve my weapon, do you know how many times this gun has been stepped on? I’m surprised I can put new rounds in at all.” Manny laughs. Your eyelids flutter as she puts her two middle fingers inside you and circles your clit with her thumb. She does all this with her left hand, not even taking her eyes off of the group, she doesn’t have to. 
How does this not make her uncomfortable? How does the fact that our whole friend group will watch you cum work for her in any way?
“Only if you gi-mm~” You stifle your moan with your hand.
“You okay?” Mel asks you. You nod.
“Just tired, I was gonna say, only if you give me a….ah~ a good gun too since he always hogs them all.”
“I do not.” He laughs. 
Fuck, Abby’s hands rubbing you feels fucking insatiable but you need to be alone with her, you can’t stand how embarrassing this feels. You want her to fuck you till you can’t breathe, not tease you in front of people you have to interact with on the regular.
“I might go to bed early.” You say, attempting to push Abbys hands away. She grabs your arm tightly and gives you a warning look.
“Aw don’t be silly, we’ll go when you’re finished.” She pauses. “…Eating.” Abby adds, increasing her pace as well as the pressure on your clit. Fuck, you could scream at how good it feels. You want to scream. 
“Who were you with today baby?” Abby asks. Fuck you could kick her right now. She’s clearly doing this on purpose to hear you make a fool of yourself in front of her your friends. It won’t work, you try to convince yourself.
“Um, I don’t know, it was me, two guys and a girl. The girl was dating one of the guys so me and the other guy did most of the patrolling while they probably, I don’t even know, did each other or something.” You explain, enjoying the feeling of her thick, warm fingers. Fuuuuuuck.
Mel looked guilty again. She always did, maybe this is just her resting face?
“I’m sorry that you and Abby can’t go on patrols anymore.” Mel utters, quietly. You roll your eyes but before you can even think to be annoyed at her, Abby pushes just the right place and you let out a gush of satisfied air.
“Agh~ all good.” You say, keeping your composure fairly well. Abby rewards this by easing up slightly and you instinctively buck your hips forward. 
“Do you prefer hot places or cold?” Abby asked, and at this point you’re forcing your eyes open. 
“What?” You ask, bitterly. Fuck you’re painfully close, you’re so gonna hit her when this is over. 
“Abby…” You whisper to her, her smirk widens, cocky prick.
“Did you say something baby?” You sigh and poke at some of the food on your plate. 
“Hot. I don’t like the cold or the rain, snow’s the only…f….um, exception.” You breathe out. Abby can tell by the look on your face that you’re cumming and she tilts her head, admiring you.
“I prefer the heat too. It’s always hot in Mexico.” Manny says, his voice just a murmer as you see colours through your eyelids. Holy fuck, you’d give anything to let out a loud moan right now. 
“I’m actually pretty tired too, I think we’re gonna turn in early.” Abby explains to the others. Mel nods and Manny looks mildly disappointed, but doesn’t say anything. 
“Have a good night.” Whitney says with a warm smile. You nod and Abby helps pull you up. You bite back a wince at how sensitive it feels to have your legs together and you hurry with Abby out of the hall.
“Abigail fucking Anderson.” You warn, simply. She smiles, kissing you playfully on the cheek.
“Yeah?” She asks. You punch her arm lightly. 
“Do you like making a fool of me? All our friends saw-“
“Did you like it?” She asks, that seductive and almost arrogant smirk still evident on her pretty fucking face. You roll your eyes. She kisses your neck and leans in to your ear.
“I bet you were thinking about it. My hands, my fingers, I was just giving you what you want.” 
“Yeah but…I mean at dinner? That’s just torture.” 
“Aw.” She says with fake sympathy. “Want me to make it up to you?”
°..·°¯°·._.· 🎀 >.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°🎀 >-.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯
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jokingmisfit · 5 months
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Read You Like A Book
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Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Prompt- “You have blood on your face.”
Prompt- “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”
Warning-Cunnilingus, I didn't actually finish it cause I gave up.
You lay calmly with black silk hiding your skin. A moment of peace as you wait for your “target”. A fun game you plan on ending tonight. Your lips turn into a content smile at the thought. As much as you enjoyed the fun of flirting you were sure it’ll be just the same if not better when you two actually start dating. And he didn’t seem to take notice of any of your hints so you figured you’d spell it out for him.
The door to the room opens and Jason comes in. A confident stride reduced to a pretend exhaustion. You watch calmly as he lays his duffle bag on a chair in the corner of the room. There's a breath of silence.
“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” He asks you with a tired voice; clearly a fake one.
A pretend pout plays on your lips. “Aww, I thought you’d be happy to see me.” You say, pout disappearing and turning into upturned bitten lips.
“As nice as that sounds, Imma a bit tired after dealing with Bruce all day.” He says with a scowl.
“Oh?” You question. “Did Buce beat you up?”
“What?! No, why would you say that?” He asked with panicked frustration.
You raise your eyebrows and move across the bed. Ending at the edge you stand on your knees and use one arm to hold the sheet up while the other ushers the man over. Even now, though it’s not surprising, he looms over you. You look up and try to bite back a laugh as you lay a hand gently on his face.
“You have blood on your face,” You say, swiping it off with your finger. “Red Hood.”
You pull your hand back a bit while he stares at you in disbelief. A laugh comes quietly from you. You tilt your head at Jason with a smile. Suddenly his face goes from surprise to deadpan.
“How long have you known?” He asks in defeat.
“Hmm… About a month. Not to be cliche, Jase, but you’re like an open book, at least to me.” You say smiling at him.
Jason curses as he leans his head down onto your shoulder. As much as he was faking the exhaustion he wasn’t faking the tension. The way he relaxed so suddenly as he sighed was enough evidence of that.
“Sooo,” You begin as you pull his face away. “That blood isn’t yours right? ‘Cause if you’re hurt we definitely can’t do what I planned on doing tonight.” You say gesturing to yourself with a flirtatious smile.
A smirk broke across the man's face, a smile that was purely that of a predator’s.
“Hmm, so that’s what you wanted from me this whole time, huh? Learn my secret just for this?” He teases.
“Oh believe me,” You bit back. “I only wanted to do this after I learned it.”
“You are an evil woman sweetheart.” Jason glares playfully.
“And yet you still think I’m sweet.” You answer back.
Your own playful smile is broken by the man as he grabs your jaw. Pulling you in and sucking the air from your lungs and into his own. A clear line of restraint as he holds you. Restraint you weren’t wanting him to use.
So you dropped the dark fabric. For a moment you can tell he didn’t notice. His mind and body were still too occupied with the kiss. Until he moves his left hand down. Trailing just for a second before he stops dead in his tracks. Where he thought he’d touch soft silk he meets warm soft skin.
He looks back, mind reeling at the sight in front of him. Your body is completely exposed. Sheets loosely fallen now sit at your knees. Everything in almost perfect view. Keyword almost. He has to swallow a breath when he looks at your face. A faux innocence and lust glazed eyes. His will to hold back severed by your simple action. His eyes raked your chest, your stomach, your thighs, everything he could see.
“Oh no…” He whispered out with a laugh. “You- haha… God damn, baby.”
Another breath and you were being moved. Jason slams you into the mattress harshly. His teeth bite at your neck. He sucks on every part of you his mouth can touch. He’s everywhere and so quickly you have no time to keep up with him.
So quickly he is moving down lower and lower. You’re left staring at him as he maneuvers your body like it’s his own. Hands pulling your glossy lips apart and rubbing at what's in between. You can’t stop your breathing from going haywire or the new sounds that slip from your mouth.
Speaking of mouths his is chuckling as he leans his face lower to your hole. A wet tongue escapes his lips. He nips and sucks at your clit. You shiver and shake as warm breath and saliva coat your mound.
“Fuck…” He rasps against you. “You taste so fucking good Angel.”
You moan out a plea. Begging him for something, you aren’t sure what. Jason moves back up your body. Trailing with his lips all the way up. Your impatience gets the better of you and you pull his head up to yours. Heated lips fighting for power you know you won’t get.
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tadpolesonalgae · 1 year
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Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You
Azriel x Third-oldest-archeron-sibling!reader
a/n: I was in the mood for a writing a heated argument that turns into an even hotter make-out session, but then it got slightly depressing so…
warning: slight angst but not much because I can’t take that emotionally :’)
word count: 3,888
-Part 2[*]-
“How was she today?”
You fight the urge to clench your jaw. The harsh snapping of your book is the limit to how far you’ll allow the leash on your anger to slip. Jealousy? Frustration? Whatever complicated nonsense he’s gotten you tangled up in.
“No hello? What about a how are you today?” You ask tersely. So much for keeping your emotions on a tight leash. His brow narrows a little—you don’t usually bubble over when he asks how your older sister is doing. “You weren’t practically bed-ridden for months,” he replies slowly, gauging your response carefully.
Instantly, guilt weighs in the pit of your stomach, and you look away quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you soothe hastily. Gods, why did you say that to him? You’re trying to gain his favour, not make him think you’re an ungrateful, self-absorbed sister. “She was fine. We did some baking—well, Elain did some baking, I was reading something. It’s a new book, actually! Because I finished the last one, which was actually pretty good, but this one I think is set in the last war and…” you trail off when you notice the patient smile he’s giving you.
Right. He’s not interested in what book you’re reading, or how you spent the day. He’s not interested in you full stop. He’s interested in Elain. You fight the way disappointment wants to twist the edges of your mouth, instead plastering on a smile that you hope he reads as oops, look at me! There I go again, haha.
“Well,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “she made some cupcakes—I think they were vanilla, and she put something that looked like jam inside. Really good. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to try one—if you ask,” you smile, adding in the details he wants to hear. For the Spymaster, he’s surprisingly open about his interest in Elain to you. But maybe that’s because you’re always so willing to answer any question you can for him.
“I’m glad,” he says, something glimmering in his hazel eyes. “And there were no silent spots? No abrupt changes?” You return your attention to the book in your hands, fingers running over the bound edges, “she was fine all the way. You never would have guessed everything she’s been through.” He hums, pleased with her progress. It’s a sound of contentment, from the back of his throat that you’re certain rumbles throughout his chest. It’s an effort to keep your attention on the book.
It’s been more than two years since the three of you were tossed into the Cauldron. Feyre and Rhysand are happy, Nesta’s made progress on healing herself and is now alarming in love with Cassian, Elain’s taking large steps in a good direction, too. You remember vividly the time when she would hardly utter a word for days, hardly shift her gaze from a strange spot in the middle-distance, how worried she made you and Nesta. And Feyre, obviously, but things were a little…strange at the time. They always had been.
You spent the first few months struggling to hold a meal down, often being wracked with spasms of anxiety and flushes of hot and cold. There was a time you would black out if you stood up too fast, and now you can hold down three meals a day without needing to run to the nearest latrine provided you don’t eat too quickly. You feel like yourself again, but fresher. You know you aren’t the same as you were, though. Not after the Cauldron, but you had no choice but to adapt. With eternity ahead of you, you couldn’t stand the thought of spending it weakened and frail—hardly capable of standing without feeling dizzy.
Maybe you are a little jealous that Elain’s getting all the attention. She’d always been the centre of Nesta’s attention, and while you were on fairly good terms with your oldest sister throughout your childhood, you were no competition for her sharp mind and sharper tongue. Feyre was the wild one, Elain the pretty one, Nesta the cunning one—then there was you.
What’s your place in your dysfunctional family?
“It’s good she seems to be steadily improving,” Azriel says, breaking you from your inner thoughts. You nod dutifully, agreeing with him. “She smiled for most of it, too,” you add, remembering how pleased she’d been when they came out how she wanted—after numerous attempts. “Though she was covered in flour—her hair was practically white!” You laugh fondly, covering your mouth with your hand.
A faint smile appears on his lips and, for just a moment, you let yourself pretend he’s smiling at the sound of your laugh.
But that’s all you have to report back to him, and even if you’ve pleased him, he’ll be finding an excuse to slip off now that he knows she’s been fine. You’ll admit, it’s difficult to remember she’s your sister when he so clearly would choose her over you. It’s not even a competition.
So you swallow your nerves, tuck your hands behind your back and peer up at him. “Hey, you read right?” You ask, keeping a pleasant smile on your lips—lest he think you’re too eager. He blinks out of whatever thought he was having, clearing his gaze as he looks down at you, then nods. “I’ve been known to pick up a book from time to time,” he answers. He’s in a good mood, it seems.
“Do you have a favourite?” You ask, tipping your head at a slight angle, appearing to look at the books stacked on the shelves. “I feel like I’ve been rereading the same story over and over again and want to try something else.”
“You’re asking me to pick just one?” He replies, quirking his brow. The smile that comes to your mouth isn’t as fake, or as controlled as you would like—it stretches your lips thin, showing the gaps either side of the top row of your teeth.
“Okay, give me a couple to have a nose at. So if one bores me to tears, I can pick up another,” you laugh gently, pulling the book tight to your chest, worried you’re showing too much. Does he know how your days often centre around whether he’ll seek you out? The too-short conversations that often revolve around your sister?
“Does Elain read?” He asks, tentatively, and it’s like a stone to your cheek. You clutch the book tighter to your chest, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “I can ask her? Subtly, of course,” you force a smile, fingers digging into the spine of the book. He shakes his head, “I’ll do it. I’d like to see how she’s doing for myself.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, “to be fair, she might be sick of them for how long she was in here last year. They might be an eyesore by now,” you laugh softly. But instead he frowns disapprovingly, like you shouldn’t be making jokes at her expense. And suddenly that urge appears, the urge to confront him about his behaviour—why he never talks to you for you.
“Azriel…?” You say, the smile slipping from your lips, though your make sure your eyes still sparkle a little, keeping them partially crinkled. But then you bite the inside of your lip, and the rest of the mask fades, leaving you raw, and more than a bit scared. If you overthink it, it’ll never get done.
“Why do you…I don’t feel like you ever…like we ever talk. Us,” you say, then flush at the word—so intimate. Us. “What do you mean?” He asks, standing sturdy before you. A seed of frustration sprouts within, but you push the irritation away. “I just…You’re always asking me about Elain.” His brow narrows a bit, and you want to take the words back.
“What else?”
You look up at him, all beauty and classical grace, and such unearthly, ethereal lines and angles to him you wish you knew how to paint like Feyre. “What do you mean, ‘what else’?” You ask, a little hurt.
“I mean, is there something else you want to talk about?” He asks, gently. Carefully.
My book would be nice. I’d like you to ask how I’m doing today, how I’m feeling, what I want to do.
“Something that doesn’t involve my sister, would be nice,” you laugh, giving him a smile that reads, can you really blame me for not wanting to talk about Elain all the time? He doesn’t smile like you’d hoped, but frowns. “Do you not like her?” He asks instead, “did something happen between you two?”
“No,” you say hurriedly. “No—nothing happened, we’re fine. Right as rain. It’s just…you always ask after her, and I feel like that’s the only reason you approach me.” You swallow, having begin to put the truth out there for him. “You seem fine talking about other things with Feyre and Nesta, but I can’t remember the last time we talked about something that wasn’t my sister, and I… I don’t really…” You trail off, watching him nervously.
His frown only deepens as he takes you in. “I’m asking out of concern for her well-being, you understand that, don’t you?” He asks.
“I know, I know, but…are you?” You reply, managing to reign in your wince at the blunt question. When he only looks at you without response, you push forward. “I mean, you…you like her, don’t you? That’s why you ask all these questions? Why you care more than the others do?” You say, fighting to keep your voice even as the words come out. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” you quickly amend, “but, you know, it would be nice to talk to you for you. And you for me. And, you know, she does have a…mate, so, I just thought—”
“What did you think?”
You blink at the sharp tone, his eyes colder than before, more sealed off. Still, you square your shoulders, keeping the book tucked tight against your front. “Well, that, maybe, it would be better to try somewhere else? Instead of investing in someone who’s practically already taken?”
“She doesn’t love him.”
“I know she says that, but—”
“But nothing,” he says, brow narrowing. “The mating bond can’t force someone to fall in love. If she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t have to have him.”
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet beneath his penetrating gaze. “Feyre and Rhys worked out,” you manage, eyes flitting away from his, focusing on the book in your hands. “And she didn’t love him at first.” The paper’s old and crisp—worn with age. “Then Nesta and Cassian also got together, too,” you add, the pads of your fingers dragging over the pages, “and you saw what Nesta was like. How badly she was struggling. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere but destruction, but—”
“Are you done with the nosey speculation into other people’s relationships, or is that how you’ve found yourself filling your time?”
Again you blink at him, caught off guard by the ice in his tone. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pursue her, Azriel,” you appease—try to. “I’m just saying maybe you could try looking…elsewhere, you know? Maybe try something with someone else? That won’t end badly?”
“You don’t know it will end badly,” he replies, all former warmth gone, no trace of it in his beautifully designed features. “It will for someone. Even if you and Elain do somehow end up together, what about Lucien? If it were Feyre and Rhys, or Nesta and Cass, would you think it okay for someone to try and separate them? When they were chosen to be together?”
“Bad pairings happen. Rhys’ parents are a fine example.”
“Yes, but they’re rather suited for one another, don’t you think?” You ask, pushing forward, “Elain’s always excelled at social events. She easily settles into the flow of conversation—she knows what to say, and how to act to put people at ease around her. And Lucien does the same. He knows how to draw ties between people where there seem to be none, just like her. He knows how to keep conversation flowing without pushing it, how to keep things at the right pace, just like her.”
“While you…” you pause, and his jaw tightens.
“Go on,” he says icily, “tell me why think I’m undeserving of her.”
“I don’t think its a case of deserving, Azriel,” you say quickly. “But you…well, you try to blend into any corner you can when there are more than three people in the room.”
His brow narrows, “I didn’t realise you’d been keeping tabs on me.”
“Yes, well, you’re the only one I’m interested in, so.” Your voice is soft, bladed, honed. Resigned. You lips press into a thin line as your eyes flicker away from his, too embarrassed to look even in his general vicinity. You had never anticipated laying your heart to bare to be so…scary? Terrifying?
Anti-climactic.
Admitted in such a quiet, understated way. As if he isn’t the first one you’ve ever felt so strongly for. As if he isn’t the first one who’s given you a vague understanding of why some women were so happy to do whatever their husbands told them. Why they were so happy to live in subservience, and why that’s not what it was.
“You think you’re deserving of me?” He asks, coldly. Shame and embarrassment heat your features, but you manage to shoot back, “do you think you’re deserving of her?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to prevent yourself from being intimidated by his height, and muscle, and beauty, and overall damned attractiveness that makes you weak in the knees.
His upper lip twitches in a repressed snarl, anxiety spiking in your chest. “Answer my question,” he says, softly, an edge to his voice. You swallow, “answer mine.” You’ve never demanded something from someone before, but it’s out there now, and it feels surprisingly good to insist on something for yourself.
He regards you silently, and it takes a remarkable strength to stand still beneath his icy gaze—knowing that he’s judging what he’s seeing. Weighing if you’re worth his answer.
“I think I gave a hint of my interest for her,” he says, eyes glittering with something cold that you’re unaccustomed to have turned on yourself. “And she reciprocated with her own signs.” He stares you down, unyielding, and powerful, and you want to run and hide. “What about you?”
You purse your lips to keep them from trembling as heat crawls beneath your skin with humiliation. But—no. Get over it. Make it through. Survive something else. “I think I’m tired, and hurt from knowing that you only talk to me because you want to know how my sister is doing,” you confess, voice wobbling. “I think it’s cruel to continue asking after her when I so obviously answer every question you have just so you might pay me a little more attention.”
There’s no bite to your words, and they come out softer and weaker than you had expected. You feel tired, and drained. Eyelids heavy and heart rate spiking every other beat, numerous crescent shaped indentations on the heel of your palms.
“Maybe you’d be better off turning your affections somewhere they’d be appreciated,” he says, icily. Your heart aches, and it takes a few humiliating moments for you to gather yourself enough that you won’t burst into tears when you again find your voice. “That’s all you have to say?” You manage, fingers trembling behind your back.
“Maybe if you were even half the female she is, I’d be tempted to show a little interest,” he snarls softly, eyes glittering with cold rage.
It feels like a smack to the face, a punch to your stomach. Your eyes go wide, then blur, hot pressure building steadily. You dig your nails into the binding of your book, and move to walk past him—at least preserve what little dignity is still intact by refusing to let him see you cry. He already barely sees you as a woman, you won’t win any points with your blubbering. He wants a female, not a girl.
But he seems to realise what he’s said and turns, gripping your upper arm to keep you from leaving. You allow him to stop you, if only because demanding he let you go would show your tears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly, and you can hear the pity in his voice. “I spoke in anger, I did not mean to upset—”
“Get those hands off me,” you snarl, turning on him with defensive ire blazing in your pupils. Rage fresh from the forges.
He recoils as if you burned him. Retreats a step.
“Not nice, is it? Targeting someone’s insecurity—rubbing salt into an open wound?” You snap, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm back to yourself. “Don’t come asking me for updates on Elain again. I don’t want to talk to you if your only interest is in getting between her legs.”
He’s silent for a moment, and you debate just running from the library—you can feel the storm in him brewing, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him. But he doesn’t wait for you to decide, because the storm breaks right then and there. “At least she has someone interested in getting her into bed,” he says softly, hazel piercing into you. “Can you say the same?”
Mortification flushes your skin, mouth parting in humiliation. “I—…This is inappropriate,” you hiss to hide your burning shame. Because no, it’s always been Elain and Nesta to be pursued. His eyes gleam, reading your thoughts clear as day in your expression. “Thought not.”
Pain twists viciously across your chest, heart strings being plucked within an inch of snapping—pulled taught around your throat. “If I’ve never taken a man to bed, it is not because I am unwanted. Rather that I would not waste my self nor my time on someone I was not sure about. That I did not want with everything I have,” you whisper hoarsely—the final layer stripped bare for him to slice and dissect.
But then he steps forward, and without thinking, you yield a step. He’s not perturbed, and takes another. “You admit you have no experience in bed, yet think you could handle me?” He snarls softly, wings flaring ever so slightly at his back, shadows thickening. “I don’t think it’s a matter of handling you, Azriel.” His name is a little more than a whisper from your mouth. One he tracks eagerly.
“No?” He asks, stepping forward again, slowly herding you. “Then what?” You swallow, trying to stand your ground, but the sense of him is so overpowering, he threatens to obliterate every ounce of your own self. “I think it would be a matter of learning. And if you think I’m unprepared, then Elain is definitely no better off, so that clearly isn’t your issue.”
“At least she’s shared the bed of a man before, at least she would know what to do.” You don’t correct him that you have, in fact, shared a bed with a male before. A few in fact, by this point. Nesta’s the bad influence. He steps forward again, and he’s towering over you, hazel glittering between his shadows. “At least she wouldn’t lose her head over the slightest touch.”
And then his hands have landed softly on your hips, and your head is silent. Only his touch on your body, his warmth on your skin, seeping into your clothes. Does he find your shape pleasing? Is he feeling this mind-numbing shock? The tingling at his fingertips where they’re pressing into you?
For a too-long moment you just stare at him, thoughts eddying about without a destination, floating throughout your conscious.
“Still in there?” He taunts quietly, pushing you back, turning you gently as he feels the heat radiating from your skin, the stiffness to your body beneath his touch. It’s only when a hard, wooden shelf digs into the base of your spine that you realise he’s pushed you against the case. You open your mouth—to say what, you don’t know. He beats you to it either way. “You want to prove you haven’t already lost your mind?” He says softly, voice like a lover’s touch. You can do nothing but stare at him, panting softly, completely at his mercy. “Tell me to stop, or I’ll keep going. Say no, and it finishes,” he murmurs, keeping you pressed tight between his hips and the book case. “But I think you’ve already lost.”
You blink up at him, hardly a thought behind your eyes.
In the back of your mind, you’re struggling frantically to decode his words, translate them into something that makes sense. And then his challenge clicks, and you take a sudden, deep breath. You need to tell him to stop, to show him you’re still in control of yourself—that you haven’t lost your head over the slightest touch.
But then his mouth latches over yours, tongue prying your lips apart, and your efforts of rebellion are washed away. You go all warm, and soft, and pliable in his hands, melting like butter as you coat him. His piercing hazel eyes lock with yours as his mouth slants, one hand rising to the curve of your spine, pulling you against his front.
How are you supposed to stand against him when he annihilates everything that you are with the softest brush of his fingers—fingers that are now tracing up the path of your spine, reaching that final notch as they tangle with delicious pressure in your hair. His gaze cuts into you as his tongue drags across your own, flicking at the roof of your mouth.
He’s utterly unruffled, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting into flame right there, setting him ablaze in the process.
But then you’re again subverting his expectations, your hands flying over his shoulders as you tilt your head to allow him deeper. The only sign of surprise he allows is a blink of his eyes, but you’re already lifting onto your tiptoes—the swell of your breasts dragging over his chest in a way you must’ve learned males like. But where would you have learned?
Your arms tighten, then your hips are pressing against him, and—you’re fighting back, he realises. And for the first time in a long, long time, he feels excitement flare deep inside him as you stride to meet him. No matter that you aren’t Elain: he’s hungry, and you can make your own decisions. If you want him to stop, you need only say the word, and he’ll be off you. But if you don’t…well, he’s not going to be the one who backs out first.
He has a damn point to prove—that you have no idea what you’re getting into with him.
Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb
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dustofthedailylife · 2 years
Text
A Gift For You
→ Masterlist || → Taglist
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Pairing: Alhaitham, Cyno, Heizou x (gn!) Reader
Summary: They plan to give you something for White Day (Info: White Day is the counterpart to Valentine's Day where you usually get the person who got you something, something in return.)
Tags: Fluff, best friends to lovers, pining, mild cursing, very slight angst for Heizou and Cyno at first but also not really, they have good intentions haha!
A/N: This is my White Day gift for @feeblescholarmyass! I hope you like it :3
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ALHAITHAM
Two knocks on the door of your office snapped you out of your work-induced haze. 
You’ve been working non-stop on this project for the Akademiya for months now and have only been allowing yourself breaks to eat or sleep. Well, to be fair, sleep was negligible too, seeing as you only got around three hours of it per night for a couple of weeks now. 
What didn’t help was that you just couldn’t get a hold of a super rare edition of a book that was practically essential for this paper. However, the physical copy was lost to the void of the library as it was never returned. And since the Akasha terminal no longer worked you also couldn’t fall back on that.
“Come in.” you answer, rubbing your eyes quickly in a futile attempt to make yourself look less tired. But deep down you knew there was nothing that could hide the deep purple eye bags you’d been carrying around like a designer accessory the past couple of weeks.
You continued to read through one of the many books on your desk as the door was opened quietly and you heard long strides approach your desk.
“Are you seriously still working on this?” a familiar voice asked reprimandingly.
You looked up into the face of Alhaitham who looked down at you in a less than amused and almost accusatory way. You genuinely didn’t have time for this now, as much as you would rather spend every free minute you had with him instead.
“Well yes, I am. Things have been going slower than I had planned and the deadline is breathing down my neck.” you sighed burying your head into the book you had been skimming through prior. “What did you want?”
“You are going to take a break.” Alhaitham remarks. This wasn’t a plea, he was leaving no room for protest. He snatched the book out of your hand and placed it on a table out of your reach.
“Hey! Alhaitham! You can’t do that. I need to finish this.”
“Yes, I can. And I will.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “When was the last time you ate?”
Well, damn. There was nothing you could hide from him, was there? He always saw right through you. Always had. One of the perks of being friends with a genius, you thought to yourself. And your silence following his question seemed to confirm his suspicions once again.
“Come on. Let’s go to the Tavern, I’ll treat you to lunch.”
You knew there was no point in resisting so you tagged along and unsurprisingly as always, he was right. Getting out of your cramped office and breathing in some fresh air was balm for your soul.
You sat down outside of the Tavern, both ordering a meal and talking about some recent research you both were interested in. Well, it was mostly just you ranting about your project and the sheer stress the lack of one certain book was causing you, but he listened to everything attentively. 
You once again came to realize what an incredibly calming effect talking to him had on you. Despite how fast your heart started drumming inside of your chest every single time without fail. You suspected that he likely would never be interested in you beyond the friendly relationship you had with him and you didn’t mean to destroy what you both had by laying your feelings for him bare. So you simply kept them locked within your heart and simply basked in his presence whenever you could.
“Oh, since we’re on the topic. I bought something the other day. This is for you.” Alhaitham suddenly pulled a book out of his bag and slid it across the table. You only had to glance at the cover briefly before you realized what it was and your eyes became as wide as saucers.
“Th-this is… the super rare copy of Ancient Nomad Language and Symbolism! How did you–?”
You were awestruck. You had no idea how he managed to get his hands on a copy. It was as if this book had vanished from the face of the earth. Aside from the fact that you could no longer buy it either or just for an extremely inflated price. How in the world did he get his hands on this?
“Let’s just say, I have my methods.” he replied with a hint of a smug smile painted across his lips.
“How much did you pay for this? I promise I’m going to pay it back–”
“No need.” he shook his head to deny your offer. “Consider it a gift.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much! You have no idea how happy this makes me.” you blurt out, almost brought to tears by this act of kindness. With this, your project was saved, and after so long you could finally see a light at the end of the tunnel.
“Well, in fact, I do. Considering that you didn’t shut up about this book for the better half of a month now and everyone you spoke to knew how much you wanted it.” he stated factually.
“Hey! No need to get all snarky with me now, when I just want to express my gratitude!” you chuckle and playfully roll your eyes, prompting him to smile smugly in a barely noticeable way once more.
“It was my pleasure. Besides, today is White Day, so it was only logical to get you something.” he remarks and he continued to drink his coffee entirely unbothered as if he didn’t just insinuate the most unbelievable thing you had ever heard. He surely misunderstood something here, right?
“Uhh–” you pause. “You know what this day is for right?”
“Naturally.”
You felt like your heart was about to jump right out of your chest any second. What did he mean naturally?! Was what you deemed impossible actually true and…
“Do you… like me?” you whisper, too scared and unable to speak any louder because it felt like all air had been knocked out of your lungs.
“Looks like you’ve finally caught on as well. I thought you’d never realize.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why do you think I repeatedly asked you out for lunch or dinner? Or why do you think I keep returning your books for you if you’re very capable of doing so yourself? Amongst other things.” he enumerated.
“Well yes, but that’s what friends do.” you retorted confusedly.
“Then let me spell it out for you.”
He put his cup down on the table and leaned forward. He stared deeply into your eyes before ushering three words you’ve always, deep down, longed to hear from his lips.
“I love you.”
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CYNO
Three Matra ringing on your door at 10 in the morning was not what you had expected to see today, but here you were nonetheless. They had arrived just as you were about to head to the Akademiya for work but effectually canceled all plans you had made.
“Good morning?” you questioningly asked, raising an eyebrow at them. “Can I help you?”
“We would like to ask you to accompany us back to the Akademiya.”, they plainly stated, signaling you to follow them.
You quickly grabbed your keys and tracked behind them with unease pooling at the pit of your stomach and a violently beating heart. 
What could the Matra possibly want from you? Did you conduct some illegal research? Did someone turn you in for plagiarism to save their own skin? Or did it have something to do with academic funds? As far as you were aware, the answers to all of these questions were no.
You didn't commit any serious academic offense to your knowledge and never planned to do so in the first place. But being called in by the Matra always had something to do with that, so naturally, you had a very bad feeling about this and couldn’t help but desperately try to find the answer to it in your head before you’d arrive.
You knew your best and long-time friend Cyno, was the General Mahamatra but even he wouldn’t show mercy if you seriously screwed something up. You knew he didn’t take academic offenses lightly - it didn’t matter who it was who committed them. He dealt out punishment equally.
The way to the office seemed like it was taking forever and many people along the way to the Akademiya threw you pitiful glances and were whispering as you were escorted by the Matra.
Once you arrived at your destination you were led into the General Mahamatra’s office. The Matra who had escorted you were bowing their head down once before they left you and Cyno, who was standing behind his desk, alone.
“There you are!” he stated, sounding surprisingly cheerful. Well, at least compared to usual anyway. He certainly didn’t seem sinister or as if he was out for your head.
He walked around his desk and came to a halt just in front of you. You slightly twitched as he put one hand on your shoulder and looked right into your eyes. This entire situation was odd, to say the least.
What didn’t help was that the warmth that radiated off his hand on your shoulder was entirely distracting to you right now and made the blood rush to your cheeks and your heart skitter in your chest.
“U-uhhh…” you stammered, unsure what to say or do.
“Do you still remember the special animated Genius Invokation card of Tighnari you got me last month?”
What? Was something wrong with it?
“Uhm… yes, of course, I do.” you reply, uncertain as to where this was leading.
He nodded as his lips curved into a small smile. “Follow me.”
You trailed behind him out of the Akademiya and along the streets towards the outskirts of Sumeru city. You remained silent the entire way, intimidated and unsure about his intentions. You couldn’t help but wonder where he was taking you and whether he was intending to exercise his judgment where no one was able to bear witness to it.
He came to a halt next to a small, run-down house at the border of the city and leaned against the fence there, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing below himself. You cautiously came to a halt as well, making sure you maintained some distance from him.
“So… w-what did I do?” you carefully inquired.
“Well,” Cyno cleared his throat as if he was struggling to find the right words. He stepped a little closer to you once again, taking your slightly trembling hands in his. “You stole something.”
“What? I did n–”
“You stole my heart.” he interrupted both your words and ability to form clear thoughts.
You parted your lips with the intention to say something but every word seemed to have died in your throat. You knew he was one to often speak cryptically so you were uncertain about the true meaning behind his words.
“What?”
He took a deep breath as if he was preparing to say something impacting before pointing toward the fence he had been leaning on with a dead-serious face.
“I fence-y you!”
At this point, you couldn’t help but chuckle. The hilarity of this entire situation was unbelievable. Not only did he have you worried sick he also chose to confess to you after years of pining with some stupid pun.
“Did you seriously lead me here just because there is a fence here?”
“Curses. I feared you would not understand… see fence-y sounds like fancy which means I–”
You quickly pulled him in by his neck and pressed your lips softly against his, successfully stopping him from explaining his joke. The feeling of his lips on yours was something you had dreamed of for so long. When he slung his arms around your waist the endorphins rushing through your bloodstream made your head swim and you felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest. You wondered if he felt the same.
“That was supposed to be my gift to you,” he remarked with a smile, leaning his forehead against yours. “but you beat me to it.”
You playfully punched his chest with a chuckle. “Idiot. You have no idea how much you had me scared to death with this entire scheme of yours. I fence-y you, too”
“Allow me to make it up to you again. Do you like raisins?”
You questioningly raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was up to this time.
“No? How about a date, then?”
Someone seriously needed to remind you again why you fell for this guy.
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HEIZOU
You were walking through the streets of Hanamizaka to run some errands when you bumped into your long-time friend aka. the best detective in town. Or maybe even in the entirety of Inazuma.
“Would you look who it is!” you perceived the familiar voice coming from your right.
You turned your head only to spot the familiar tuft of auburn locks and the pair of mischievous green eyes that always made their owner look like he was up to no good.
“Heizou!” you cheered, hugging him tightly.
“It’s a good thing I run into you actually. I’m onto something and you’re just the person who could help me out.” he remarked.
“Oh, is that so?” you asked stemming your hands on your hips proudly, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Indeed.”
“So, what do you need from me, Mr. Detective?” you tease.
“Alright. So, as you may or may not know it’s White Day. I’m looking for a present for someone since I’m going on a date, and I want to get something for them.” he explained. 
You had to try your hardest to not drop your smile. It almost faltered just now, but you couldn’t let your disappointment show. He didn’t know you had feelings for him, so to him, you were still nothing more than his best friend. Obviously, he would come to you with something like this. It’s also on you for not telling him about your feelings for him, too.
As much as your heart ached while thinking about it, you simply had to try to be a supportive friend in this situation. Even if it would most likely prove to be a challenge. Both for your heart and also to hide your dislike about this from him, since he was generally very perceptive. It was in the job description after all and he was one of the best in his field.
“So what do you say?” he interrupted your train of thought. “Will you help me?”
“Sure!” you agree, faking a smile. 
You followed him through the streets of Inazuma City walking past several restaurants and storefronts continually catching yourself getting lost in your own thoughts while he was talking. 
Your mind was way too occupied with reproaching yourself for not opening up about your feelings. Would you still be able to look him in the eyes when you soon saw him with someone else by his side? Or would you be strong enough to still be as close to him as you are now, despite your aching heart? These were questions the future you would have to eventually find answers to, but for now, you decided you should focus on helping him.
“Which restaurant would be a good option for a dinner date?” he pondered tapping his chin with his index finger.
“Well, I do like Uyuu Restaurant just across the bridge from here. But then again, it tends to be rather crowded on holidays. So maybe Kiminami Restaurant instead? And quite honestly, the food is also better there in my opinion.” you advised.
“I see. Great!” Heizou cheered writing some things down in his notebook.
“So…” he began again after he was done taking notes. “Now for the present. I have no clue what to get them, yet.”
“Well, what a lousy detective you are if you can’t even sneakily ask them about what they would want.” you teased.
He raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his chest, acting playfully offended at your remark.
“Hey now! No need to get personal! Besides, that would only be the last resort! Anyway, hypothetically speaking. Imagine I’d get you something for White Day. What present would you want?”
For Archon’s sake, did he really have to have you imagine that? Getting a present from him on White Day would be a dream come true so he could practically get you anything and you would be head over heels for him all over again. But naturally, you couldn’t just outright say that.
“I don’t think this should be about what I would want. You should consider what they could want instead.”
“Hmm. I see your point. I could just ask them directly, I suppose?” he proposed tapping his chin as if deep in thought.
“No numbnuts! That’s not something you just ask them. It’s supposed to be a surprise, you know?”
“But then it may be even more important if you could give me an idea knowing what you would want. To gather some… inspiration, basically. I have to consider all possibilities after all.” he lightly bumped his finger on your forehead and smirked slyly. “So what would you want… jewelry? books? something to decorate your home with perhaps? Or maybe–”
“I fear I may not be of much help. I genuinely wouldn’t know what I would want.” you quickly interrupted.
Aside from wishing to be the object of affection of the man in front of you. But it was probably better if you buried that hope alongside your feelings for him once and for all.
What you were dying to say to him for a long time, had died in your throat the moment he told you he was going on a date. And as much as you honestly wanted to help him with this, you couldn’t recommend him something in good faith when it made your heart painfully throb the way it did right now.
“Hmmm.” he pondered looking at the ground with crossed arms. “That’s a shame, I’d immediately know what I’d want.”
“Oh? And what would that be, Detective?” you replied cheekily, quickly trying to distract yourself from the aching feeling in your chest.
“You.”
“What?” you falter.
“Do you happen to be free later?”
“Y-you–?”, you stammered.
“I set you up? Hmm, I suppose you could say I did. Sorry about that, but I had to find something out first.” he hummed, leaning in a little closer with a smug smile before whispering in your ear. “And I’m pretty sure I connected all the dots by now, did I not, sweetheart?”
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Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.
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meiieiri · 1 year
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STOLEN MOMENTS WITH THEM [FT. JUJUTSU KAISEN]
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❁—CHARACTERS: suguru geto, gojo satoru, nanami kento
warnings: suggestive themes in gojo’s part (bc why not haha), mentions of canon-typical violence
a/n: i’m so sorry for all this tooth-rotting fluff, i’m sad rn so hehe :’>> song inspo: you are in love (taylor swift). am accepting requests/prompts btw, just shoot me a message-
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༊*·˚ SUGURU GETO
winter afternoons cooped inside your one bedroom apartment are always special days, commonly consisting of freshly-brewed piping hot tea sitting peacefully on your small living room side table, a good book, and the warmth of a knitted throw blanket. snowflakes fall entrancingly from the sky and make a feather-like landing on the glass windows that peek into your home.
suguru geto was lounging silently on the couch with you, your head on his strong lap as he gently combs his fingers through your hair, a leather bound book in his free hand, his eyes leisurely skimming the yellowed pages trying to make sense of the decadent shakespearean sonnets that liken love to that of honey and flowers. you were just about to fall asleep when suguru’s melodic baritone caresses your ear.
“don’t you think he’s so full of shit?” he asks suddenly. how could one speak with such vulgar words and still make it sound like poetry?
“shakespeare?” you sit up and you readjust yourselves so that you can rest your head on his shoulder, peeking over it to inspect sonnet 55. his arms comes up to pull you closer to him, tucking you into the warmth of his chest in a bid to keep you warm. “i thought you liked his work,” you take the offending book into your hands, scanning through the words.
“i do,” he clarifies, tracing shapes on your shoulder, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he waits for you to finish reading through the passage.
when you look up from the book, you are surprised when his lips abruptly yet softly meet yours in a loving peck. his hand moves to cup your cheek as he deepens the kiss, your lips moving together in a perpetual waltz, your heartbeats in total sync. you thought the kiss would last forever, and you and suguru wouldn’t give a flying fuck, but he pulls away teasingly, his forehead resting against your own, his nose lovingly bumping yours as you both come down from your respective highs.
“not as much as i like you, though.”
you shake your head, rose blush tinting your cheeks, hopelessly in love. he truly was the light of your life, the lighthouse that brings you to safe waters.
༊*·˚ GOJO SATORU
despite the horrors that have long plagued the grounds of jujutsu tech, the school, being tucked away in a remote location deep in tokyo’s forgotten countryside, was actually quite beautiful. the backdrop of the tall cedar-wood and red maple trees in the forest adjacent to the teachers’ dormitories that served as a protective cover from unwanted prying eyes is a particularly wonderful sight and in an autumn evening such as this one, emitted a fresh aroma of sweet cherries and almonds.
“i was wondering where you were,” gojo satoru walks in the teachers lounge just as the electric kettle automatically switches off. he woke up in a panic when he noticed you’d gone missing, your side of the bed having lost all its warmth, indicating you must have been out of bed for a good while now. it didn’t help his nerves to see your bedstand digital clock display the time: 1:58 AM in bright neon green on its screen.
he moves behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your dainty figure as you busy yourself pouring the boiling hot water into the two instant ramen cups you had prepared. “that for me?”
“nope,” you shrug. “it’s for nanami.”
that was obviously a lie — he looks at the label of the ramen cup and scoffs when he sees the indicated flavor: seafood curry, his favorite, now, if that wasn’t enough to convince him, he has to remind himself that his adorable blonde junior hates instant crap like this. but still, you found it endearingly funny to see your husband pouting like some kicked dog when you push past him to bring the two cups over to the nearby dining table. “i’m kidding,” you chortle, beckoning him to join you.
“you meanie,” he sticks out his bottom lip as he follows you to the table. he sits down, his elbows resting on the table as his hands come up to cradle his chin, mirroring the image of a child who’d been told “no” by his parent. “i think i want a divorce now,” he sulks.
you feign guilt, playing along with him. you stand up to take a seat next to him. “i’m sorry, baby,” you tell him. he only responds by pointing to his cheek, silently telling you to “kiss it better” if you really were sincere in your apology. you reach up to place a loving kiss on his cheek and a smile spreads across his lips. “better?” you chuckle when he lets out an amused breath.
having made peace, you move to retrieve your cup of ramen when without warning, he pulls you by the hand, crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, his teeth needily sucking at your bottom lip, the heat of the kiss seemingly warming up the entire room that had been filled with the chill of the autumn night breeze. your arms move to rest on his shoulders, as he effortlessly pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on the small of your back. it’s only when you need to take a steadying breath of air that he breaks the kiss.
“all better,” he winks, the ramen having gone cold, utterly forgotten, as the night peacefully went on.
༊*·˚ NANAMI KENTO
“i knew i should have brought an umbrella,” nanami kento sheepishly rubs the back of his head.
“i’m sorry,” his shoulders slump when a low rumble of a thunderclap suddenly goes off, lightning illuminating the sky in a brilliant glow. the date had gone so well — you visited the best art galleries in tokyo, even saw a performance at one of those cozy hidden gem jazz clubs — kento had thought that his luck would hold out ‘till you got home.
but the universe seems to have decided otherwise. now, here you were taking shelter, stranded under the fiberglass roof of a deserted bus stop’s waiting shed. “kento,” your gentle voice quells the dread in his chest, chipping away at the block of anxiety forming in his throat. “it’s okay,” you scoot over, patting the spot next to you, silently telling him to sit down.
reluctantly, he takes a seat, keeping himself at a reasonable distance from you, thinking that you would, at the very least, be upset at him for this slight mishap. “sorry,” he repeats the apology like a broken record, and a compassionate smile forms on your lips.
you slowly scoot on over next to him, closing the gap between the two of you, your pinky finger reaching for his own, as if you were asking for permission. kento notices the gesture instantly, and takes your hand in his, his thumb rubbing your knuckles comfortingly. “…today was fun, kento,” you tell him, a genuine grin on your face, “seriously. what’s a little rain?”
a burden seems to have been lifted from his shoulders. kento nanami was not a man who put much value into love, with how dangerous his profession is, fighting the lurking malevolence hiding in the world’s darkest shadows, he didn’t have time for the childishness of falling in and out of love. it was inconvenient, and troublesome.
at least, that’s what he used to believe before you came crashing into his life and touched the heartstrings he has long resigned to keep under lock and key with your delicate hands.
he silently takes off his overcoat then to wrap it around your shoulders like the gentleman he was (he wasn’t about to let the love of his life get drenched in the rain), resisting the urge to grin when he sees just how small you look in it. the next few minutes pass by in absolute silence, the sound of your breaths being the only conceivable sound for a long while.
“…i’m glad you had fun,” he looks up at the stormy sky again. “i did, too.”
“next time, let’s be sure to check the weather forecast ahead of time,” you giggle. he joins your laughter, bringing your hand to his lips, his warm breath tickling your skin, as he lets his lips touch your flesh in a quintessentially classic affectionate kiss on the back of your hand like they do in those vintage hollywood movies. he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “i know how much you hate the rain.”
“…i think i can make an exception,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
the decibels of his tenor fight against the loud pitter patter of raindrops crash landing on the fiberglass roof of the waiting shed. but you hear his lyrical confession of love anyway, with your heart’s ear perhaps.
“i have the sun with me all the time, anyway,” kento says, planting a soft kiss on your forehead as the rain washes the remnants of his old world away.
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angelofsmalldeaath · 3 months
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Hi!! I hope you’re doing well love! 🥰 just imagine staying in with Andrew and cuddling all day with him playing with your hair. Little kisses happen here and there, but nothing too steamy. Just laying with each other perfectly content.
sorry i've been gone for so long but i have some free time today. it rained all day and this request is speaking to me very much haha because i would have loved to spend the whole day in bed (with andrew) alas... there is work
cw: sappy as always!!!
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“do you think we could have one day utterly undisturbed?” he poses the question as soon as he’s awake. well, alert at least. beside him, i turn, still half-asleep, and bury my face in his chest. 
he’s sleep-warm and soft, yet to move and disturb our perfect little cocoon. 
“i am not the famous one here,” i snicker and feel him exhale. 
his fingers trail up my arm. it’s not intentional, i realise, he’s deep in thought. if i were to open my eyes (a herculean task) and look up at him right now, i’d see that all-too-familiar expression on his face—brows pinched, lip caught between his teeth, eyes faraway. 
“darling boy—”
“we should have a day,” he interrupts, and i crack an eye open, coming face to face with his white t-shirt. “to ourselves, i mean. you and me.”
“and your phone callls?”
“i’ll turn it off!”
“would you?” i smile at him lazily, finally open my eyes too. 
he looks exactly as i’d predicted, with the addition of soft sunlight on his face, lightening his green eyes some more. the red in his hair looks gorgeous like this—messy and unkempt. without much thought, i thread my fingers through it. he closes his eyes and smiles. 
“for you?”
“no,” i thumb over the crinkles around his eyes, “for you.”
he wrinkles his nose, like a child being told to finish his vegetables. “things feel better when i do them for you.”
“alright, then,” i relent and continue threading my fingers through his hair. it’s a languid movement, and yet he leans into it. “would you turn it off for me?”
“but it’s all the way over there!” he almost whines, pointing somewhere behind his back, at his phone that’s barely a foot away. 
i laugh. “and if it rings?”
“you have my full permission to chuck it out the window,” he declares, pulling me closer until we are one tangled entity, limbs intertwined—his leg between mine and my face tucked in the crook of his neck and his chin on top of my head. 
“what should we do then?” i giggle. it’s funny how much he doesn’t want to get out bed today, not to make coffee or use the loo, not to get a book to read and pass the time, not even to think about having breakfast. i let it be. it’s not often we have this. 
“stay like this?”
“for how long?”
“hmmm,” the vibrations from his voice pass through my whole body and send tingles down my spine, “the entire day maybe, the night too. i don’t know, forever.”
sluggishly he shifts, until his hand is right by my head, fingers weaving through my hair. it’s gentle, tender, so much so that i feel sleep coming over me once again, but i strain my eyes and stay awake. 
“i could get behind that,” i speak into his chest, voice muffled. a moment later, he tilts my chin up for a kiss—featherlight, barely-there, and yet it leaves goosebumps in its wake.
it doesn’t go unnoticed either. a moment later, he lets go of my lips and trails kisses up my arm—sweet, chaste kisses that somehow do the opposite of what he intends. or perhaps this is exactly what he intends. 
“and what happens when we get hungry, hmm?”
“is my love not enough for you?!” he grumbles and i snort, unable to keep it in at his exasperated tone. it takes more effort than i’m happy with, but when i kiss his nose in response, he smiles again. 
we stay quiet after that—maybe for a minute, maybe for an hour—but when i open my eyes, he’s already staring at me. 
“hi,” i giggle.
“hi,” he copies my tone. 
i feel a little shy then. there’s no reason for it. we have done this before—stolen mornings and tiny moments rescued from the clutches of busy afternoons, swamped evenings that still somehow hold pockets of quiet for the two of us—but he’s right here now, holding me so close like he never intends on letting go. 
i hope he doesn’t.
“sounds like a good day in my head,” i confess in a whispered voice, “to be here with you and do nothing.”
he nods and kisses me again, a little longer this time, a little more fierce. “sounds perfect to me too.”
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snapscube · 4 months
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are there any ways to make ffxiv level grinding easier? i'm trying conjurer at the moment and i find the level grinding to be very tedious at times
im going to assume you’re asking cause conjurer/whm isn’t ur main and u don’t have access to the MSQ experience, which would be my first suggestion for anyone looking to level up of course. just play the MSQ. but since, again, im assuming this is an alt job, here are some tips (you should be doing these anyway tbh)
1. buy a shit ton of boiled eggs cheap from any city’s food vendor and always have ur food buff on, that 3% exp bonus adds up
2. get ur hands on accessories that give u an exp buff on top of that. this includes things like the “brand new ring” or if you’ve preordered dawntrail you can use the azeyma’s earrings for an exp buff lasting all the way to 90
3. if you’re in a free company, use company actions to have “the heat of battle” running in the background as you level, which is a company-wide exp bonus. if you’re not in a free company, then by leveling up your grand company squadron (the little AI bot characters u can take into ARR dungeons) u can unlock “squadron missions”. one of these missions will reward you with a set of scrolls that give you the same exp bonus as the heat of battle, no free company needed, but it only lasts a couple hours as opposed to the heat of battle’s 12+. u can stock up as many as u want though, it just takes a bit for the bots to run the mission.
4. DO YOUR ROULETTES. the roulettes that are going to give you the absolute best bang for your buck in terms of leveling are: leveling (duh), main scenario roulette, frontline (this one is very easy to ignore but you really shouldn’t, it’s a TON of exp), and alliance raid. these should get you at least a full level or two every day at higher levels, and sometimes way more if you’re early enough. but half of them don’t unlock until 50.
5. do wondrous tails! if you’ve finished heavensward and you have idyllshire unlocked, you can also unlock wondrous tails! wondrous tails is a book with a weekly checklist of duties to take part in, and each one grants you a sticker. if you get all 9 stickers from doing any duties in the set, you can then turn the book into rewards. this is the important part: a finished wondrous tales book will give you EXACTLY HALF of the exp required for your next level up, no matter what number it is. and this exp bonus will apply to whatever job you TURN THE BOOK IN on. doesn’t matter how or as what job you did the duties themselves as, just equip the job right before you turn your book in and viola. free half a level. you do this every week, it’s very easy!
6. leveling white mage (or any healer) specifically, your main focus if you’ve run out of roulettes and are just wanting to get the absolute best exp bang for your buck in the shortest amount of time possible: do dungeons. just run your most recently available dungeons as much as possible. dungeons give a TON of exp, and healers have easily the shortest queue times of any role in the game. repeat ur most recent dungeon unless the level number ends in a 0. level 50, 60, 70, 80, and 90 dungeons give crap exp because they were designed with level caps in mind. they give other good rewards sometimes, but while you’re focused on leveling, avoid those.
i hope this was at all helpful haha. other readers feel free to post more leveling tips in the replies if i missed anything.
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billskeis · 3 months
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hi can you do Tom smut where he is dating reader and she likes reading and he just like tells her to read for him while he is fucking her and she just like struggles to talk and he is just kinda chuckling and listening to her
˖ ࣪ ⟢ tom’s personal bookworm
lol haha hi so imagine tom kaulitz, considered the sexiest guitarist in germany right now as tokio hotel rises up to the top as rockstars with a bookworm reader. never really goes to their concerts because she enjoys her alone time but however will support from the other side of the screen as their concerts are constantly being streamed.
you were never the type to be upset about not being able to spend actual time with tom knowing his packed schedule, understanding and content with just being able to see him from afar.
reader loves book. and i mean, LOVES books. her whole room is filled with them. her parents were concerned for her every passing day because all she did was spend her allowance on books. not that they’re complaining because at the end of the day she was smart, humble, quiet. never really got herself into trouble since she would spend most of her days reading.
they’ve always wondered how she got a boyfriend that’s the total opposite of her.. mr popular who has thousands of girls just waiting for him to court them, is dating a nerdy nobody who only spends her free time reading? i guess you can say opposites really do attract.
tom now has been making more frequent visits to his girlfriend’s humble abode to catch her often stuck in a book that she’s been raving about the day before. rambling on how exciting it is to be able to start a fresh new book after just finishing one. it could only really take her a day to finish a thick novel that she had just purchased long ago, head in the clouds of true crime, thriller and fantasy. tom wishes his girlfriend would pay more attention to him now that he’s off tour and can finally spend time with her. ohoh, he’s jealous. jealous of a fucking book, or books, lol.
and all of a sudden, the new books that you have recently bought have been collecting dust, stuck on the same book for a week now.
tom had asked you to read out the dialogue between the main protagonist and the villain, sliding himself inside of you as he slowly fucks your soaking walls sitting on the ottoman stood at the end of your bed. “oh fuck, you’re tight.. ‘s been a while huh schatzi?” a firm grip on your ass as he holds your body upright, sitting in his lap as you hold a book in-front of you like a teacher standing at a podium. “t-tom, i can’t concentrate like this.”
“c’mon, read to me baby.” moving your hips up and down his length, slowly and agonizing, your cunt feels every inch and vein of his cock, the stretch just right as he presses kisses to your cervix with his tip.
you huffed in defeat, biting your lip before speaking, “a-and so.. you e-either—mmgh.. surrender to me or, o-or.. ah!” yelping as the curve of his dick presses against your velvety walls in a new angle, pleasure shooting through your body as legs threaten to shake. tom can only laugh at you, a throaty groan while he continues to move your body at a rhythm that satiates the both of you. he indulges in controlling how you ride him, a soft and pliable body made for him to fuck and distract her from what she loves the second most, him coming in first after all.
you hold onto your book for dear life, stuttering words as they struggle to fall off your lips, drool coming out more instead as you grind your hips on tom.
he silently watches you, watches how you fail to get a complete sentence out without choking on a moan or a whimper, chuckling as he is completely enamoured with your being. how pretty you are in his lap riding his cock as you attempt to fill out his request of storytelling one of your current reads.
but he listens. he listens as you break it down to him on how the superhero and the villain instead come to redeem themselves as lovers rather than enemies. and it’s quite sweet, isn’t it? how people on the opposite sides of the universe can just come together as one, quite ironic if you ask me. but he absolutely adores the way you read to him, even if it involves shoving his cock into your cunt, over, and over again.
as a hand holds your waist, he uses his other hand to rub your clit in front of him, your body jolts from the overstimulation as you leak onto his pelvic moan, juices spilling to seep onto the suede chair.
feeling overwhelmed, your book almost slips from your grasp as you wrap your arms around tom’s neck, complaining that it’s ‘too much’ and you ‘can’t take it,’ but he doesn’t listen, he can only press a kiss to your cheek and tell you “you’re doing good baby, just a few more pages mkay?” his hands massaging your waist as he bounces you on his cock. you swallow your words instead, incapable to recite the dialogue as you cried out in pleasure.
with a smirk plastered on his lips, tom takes the book from your hand and throws it to the bed behind you, he can’t risk in damaging your goods now! your struggle for speech was quickly replaced with the creak of the ottoman inside your bedroom, your back arching as your chest is now flush to tom’s clinging onto the body that bullies you as eyes roll back.
your head rests on tom as tears roll off your face and tongue lolls out onto his shoulder, you babble ‘sorries’ to tom, as you now realized that despite his time off, you prioritized the books you read 24/7 over your own boyfriend.
“s’okay.. i can—ugh, have my smart girlfriend all t’myself now, yea?”
so i didn’t proofread this lol >_<
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anyways , i’m off to disappear for another couple days (maybe)
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art · 2 years
Photo
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Creator Spotlight: @velinxi​
Hello! I’m Xiao Tong Kong, better known as “Velinxi.” I’m the creator of the webcomic Countdown to Countdown and have been doing freelance artwork since I was a teenager. I love telling stories with my illustrations! Tumblr was where I first got my start as an artist, specifically a small fandom artist as a hobby… and now I’m somehow here! When I’m not trying my best to stay awake in front of my tablets, I’m usually cooking, gaming, or sleeping. Sometimes all three, in my dreams.
Check out our interview with Velinxi below!
Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?
Yeah! I’ve basically been on track to become an artist since I was a child. I went to a middle school with an emphasis on arts and a high school specializing in it. I went to SVA briefly for computer arts but dropped out to pursue freelance and webcomics after my first year.
Over the years as an artist, what or who were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?
My biggest inspirations growing up were Yuumei and Shilin Huang, two titans on DeviantArt back in the day. They still inspire me today, but the list of inspirations has grown exponentially over the years, including artists, movies, entire art movements, etc.
What was your thought process behind the creation of your webcomic, Countdown to Countdown?
Well, Countdown to Countdown started as a passion project back when I was 15, in high school, and pretty depressed. I just wanted to draw whatever story I thought was cool, inspired by my favorite media at the time. There was a very loose beginning and outline, but I was truly just writing as I drew the story. That’s why I had to stop the comic in 2018 and restart from scratch the year after. Now, the story has a set story and a clear outline. It still has similar roots, characters, and themes of neglect, abuse, and escape—but I think the story is a lot easier to follow now. It’s got an artstyle I can actually keep up with in the long run. The origin of why CTC exists also remains the same: I simply wanted to make a story I wanted to read for myself. Which happens to be about two dumb boys with superpowers navigating a hostile world that wants them dead or caged—together.
Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?
Oh, all the time. It’s part of the process. Personally, though—I just have to draw through it. Every month on my Patreon, I have my patrons vote on a theme I have to draw by the end of the month, and I try my best to make it as interesting as possible. I draw quite a few—tens even, of doodles or compositions for each of these themes to try to make something that tells a story while still being aesthetically pleasing and clear. I think pushing myself like this helps with art block, really. I also do remember to take breaks and simply consume other media I like! It gets the inspiration juices flowing.
Advice you would give to an aspiring creator?
If you do one—your first webcomic should be a short, fun, messy thing. It’s not often you can get it right the first time, but you’ll certainly learn a lot through sheer experience. This goes for a lot of things in art, to be honest.
What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
3D Animation. I briefly learned it at SVA, and I think that’s enough of that tech for me. I accept that there are some things that are truly beautiful if done right, and I am too simple and lazy for it.
What is your goal for the rest of this year?
Get Countdown to Countdown book 2 finished! And live HAHA
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
@yuumei-art on Tumblr, still! They’ve been a huge inspiration for digital artists and storytellers online for years. I have no doubt that many digital artists of my generation have been influenced by them, and they’re still here, making beautiful art and stories. It’s a thing to behold.
Thanks for stopping by, Velinxi! If you haven’t seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. You can also follow her for more amazing art over at her Tumblr, @velinxi!
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iwantkirkhammett · 1 month
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reader works at a comic book shop, kirk visits every now and then and they’ve been sharing glances… one day he comes by after closing and they fuck out the back 🤭🤭🤭
details beyond that are up to you but make it HOT HOT HOT
this is my first post guys bear with me plz
tw: smut, sex, oral (f receiving)!
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𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟐
I sighed, groaning in annoyance as the night went on with my work shift. The night seemed to be dragging on and on, the clock ticking by so slow as customers occasionally came to buy a variety of comics and movies, sometimes music. Every time I heard the store door open, I perked up hoping it was this certain someone I had my eyes on for a while now, this certain someone going by Kirk Hammett. He came in once or twice a week, buying loads of monster collectibles, horror comics, lots of geeky nerdy stuff in general, but he had to be the most attractive man I ever met.
He was so handsome, long, dark curls going just past his shoulders, dark brown doe eyes that I couldn’t help but adore every time we had a conversation, he was so polite but also flirty and suggestive, and I had fallen head over heels for this man and he doesn’t even know me. We occasionally talked about our days when he would come during slower hours, talking about the progress of his band or how the work shift was going, but I couldn’t help but notice the tension and suggestive glances between us that became more apparent and intense every time Kirk came.
The night eventually finished up, a small feeling of sadness weighing on my shoulders while I locked the doors to finish up my closing duties, feeling disappointed I didn’t get to see the curly haired guitarist, especially considering this was my last shift for the week. I sighed, going around and fixing misplaced items, counting the register amongst other things before a soft tap at the glass was heard, and I looked up, my heart leaping as I saw the man I had been waiting for all night.
I knew I wasn’t supposed to do it, this was completely against protocol, letting a customer in after close, but how could I say no? I had to see him, even if just for a quick check out. I opened the door, and an amused smile appeared on Kirk’s face, I honestly melted at the sight.
“Damn sweetheart, thought you were never gonna let me in.” He teased, walking in and towering over me a bit, staring down at me with intense dark eyes. I smiled, getting a bit flustered, quickly rambling together a sentence. “Yeah…thought I could make an exception considering you’re one of our most loyal customers. I left a few comics towards the front that I think you’d like.” I said softly.
He looked down at me again after glancing at the counter, grabbing my chin and making me make eye contact with him. “Yeah? That’s so sweet of you…so thoughtful…” He mumbled, adoring into my gaze. “You know…what would you do if I told you I don’t just come here for the comics?” He said, his tone almost suggestive.
I gulped thickly, quickly getting flustered and struggling to form a response. “Th-The comics? Of course that’s what you come for haha, you’re here all the time-“, but he cut me off before I even finished, forcing me to maintain eye contact. “Nah, the comics are just a side perk. I just love coming so I can look at the pretty girl you are sweetheart, coming to talk to you.” He said, inching closer to my face. I gulped, desire already going between my legs, but I quickly forced that feeling away despite the butterflies going insane inside my stomach right now. “I feel the same way…” I blurted out flustered. “I get excited every time you come in, I even hope the customers are you…” I nervously admitted, and Kirk cocked up an eyebrow, a low chuckle escaping his throat.
“You know, you even get me all worked up…wearing that tight shirt with your fucking cleavage out…your shirt skirt that barely covers your ass, it’s like you’re just trying to tease me baby.” He said, pushing my hair out of my face. My heart rate quickened, gasping a bit as I heard the words leave his mouth. I started to melt at his touch, feeling his obvious hard on poke against my thigh, my legs shaky and panties already soaked with need. I thought for a moment, before suddenly speaking up and breaking the silence. “You know…I have a few comics in the back of the store I’ve been wanting to show you, exclusives.” I said with a smirk, immediately following with Kirk giving me a lustful and suggestive glance.
Then, before I knew it, he had me thrown on the table, pushing the comics off as he quickly pulled down my skirt, revealing the lacy thongs I wore and earning a hiss of satisfaction from Kirk. “God baby….you’re trying to kill me here…” He groaned out, reaching up to gently massage my clothed breast and earning a soft moan from me while Kirk admired the sight below him. He then tore my shirt off onto the floor, my bra following shortly after. He took a step back, adoring my body and the sight in front of him, his boner painfully obvious in his pants. God he was so big, and I haven’t even seen it yet.
He started by slowly nipping and kissing at my neck, softly playing with my nipples and sucking at them, leaving bruises and bites everywhere, before looking up at me and smirking against my neck. “I can feel how wet you already are sweetheart…I’ve barely even touched you, that needy for me huh?” He grumbled out, earning a soft and desperate whine from me as he slowly grazed against my clothed cunt. “K-Kirk…oh my god…please…” I whimpered out, so worked up I could barely even form sentences, it was almost embarrassing the control and power this man had over my body. He got down between my legs, pulling my panties off with his teeth and chuckling at the sight of my now completely exposed, dripping cunt.
“God…you’re gonna make me go fucking crazy sweetheart…” He tore his shirt off, now leaving him in just his black jeans and stared up at me. “C’mon…you know what to do sweet girl…” I bit my lip, whining a bit in frustration and groaning at his words. “Please Kirk….please just hurry…please just eat me out I wanna feel you please!” I desperately gasped out, earning a satisfied chuckle before he immediately dived between my legs, mercilessly licking and sucking at my aching cunt, slurping up all the juices and lapping and sucking at my clit.
I moaned loudly, arching my back and hips up into his mouth, gripping his thick curls tightly and earning a harsh hand forcing me back down, and the other hand suddenly plunging two fingers inside of me and curling, immediately moving at a quick and fast pace, the wet squelching sounds of my pussy filling the room. I moaned out even louder, squirming against his grip. “Kirk! H-Holy shit…!” I moaned, already in pure ecstasy from the few seconds of this mans tongue. I pulled and closed my legs thighs his head, and he chuckled, talking against my clit and sending a pleasurable amount of vibrations through me, pulling off. He grinned up at me with a face covered in my juices, licking his lips. “God…you taste so fucking good…driving me crazy you know that? So damn needy too.” He said, standing up and unbuckling his belt. “Turn around.” He demanded.
I quickly obeyed, flipping over with an overwhelming amount of need, arching my back and looking at him. “Please Kirk, please I need you so bad…” I whined, almost embarrassed for how desperate I was for this man’s cock. I quickly gasped in surprise as he snatched my wrists and tied them above my head with his belt, putting his shirt under my head as a makeshift pillow on the table.
“You gotta be specific baby, I don’t know what you need if you won’t tell me.” He teased, pulling his cock out of his boxers, and I turned around, mouth dropping in awe. He was so huge, a solid 9 inches, veiny and a perfect light tip at the end, already dripping with pre-cum. He gently rubbed it against my soaking wet cunt, hissing in pleasure before he repeated himself. “You gonna tell me what you want or do I gotta make you beg for it more?” He chuckled, positioning himself. I moaned out at the feeling of him against my clit, tears of pleasure welling up in my eyes. “Please Kirk! Please fuck me! Please!” I cried out, and was suddenly met with the plunging feeling of his cock, and immediately melted into the table, letting out a loud, satisfied moan. He slowly began at a steady pace, chuckling softly. “You’ve kept this to yourself all- oh fuck…all this time baby? You’re so fucking tight, so good…” He said, picking up his pace, still holding my wrists with his belt. I moaned loudly, gasping and rocking my hips against his pace, moaning even louder as he hit that one spot. “K-Kirk! Please! Faster oh-oh!! Ah!” I moaned out, and he let out a possessive growl and picked up the pace. He kept abusing that one sensitive spot inside me, and he groaned in pleasure as I clenched and tightened around him more and more.
“You-You’re so fucking pretty when you’re getting fucked you know that? T-Taking it all like such a good girl, taking all of this dick aren’t you? Such-such a pretty girl-Oh fuck!” He hissed in pleasure, squeezing my hips tightly as he pounded into me relentlessly.
I moaned in ecstasy, tears welling in my eyes and screaming and pleading in pleasure, rambling on moans and curses as he fucked me, a familiar knot forming in my stomach. “I’m close Kirk! I’m so close! Please! I’m gonna cum please go faster!” I begged, and was immediately met with a hand covering my mouth to suppress my moans.
“G-Gotta keep quiet baby…I know how good it feels but gotta keep it down before someone hears us yeah?” He groaned, picking up his already merciless pace. “You’re so close huh? Fuck I can feel it- fuck I’m close too baby…want me to cum inside? Fill you up?” He growled out, and I desperately nodded and kept moaning into his hand, my mascara running down my cheeks from the pleasure. “Kirk I’m cumming!” I moaned into his hand, finally my release as the familiar feeling of pleasure overwhelmed my body. Kirk groaned out. “Shit me too baby…I’m gonna fill you up so much-“ and he cut himself off, thick ropes of cum filling my insides as we both let out loud groans and moans, before he pulled out, admiring the thick cum pouring out of me and onto the table.
We both panted, enjoying the after glow before he gently untied my wrist, buckling up his jeans again, smirking down at me and helping me sit up. I let out a soft moan of satisfaction, my pussy still dripping and pulsating.
“Guess I should visit you more often, huh? Or maybe even invite you to one of my shows?” He chuckled, snatching my panties and shoving them in his pocket. “And these? These are a parting gift for me, sweetheart.” He said, kissing me and then finishing off our night.
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imfinereallyy · 1 year
Text
celebrate softly
it my birthday today so here’s a lil gift from me to you (yes I know that’s not how this works haha) I made a bunch of little things is celebration, i probably won’t post these till later in the day so sorry if you get a bunch at once.
Steve wanted to like his birthday.
No, really, he truly did. He knew that birthdays were the one time of year you get to be a little selfish. The people you loved gathered around you to celebrate another year of you.
It was just that Steve was also used to disappointment.
Over the years, his birthday has consisted of either his parents parading him around at business dinners or the empty silence of a house that wasn’t ever a home.
His old friends were never around. It was a holiday weekend; he didn’t expect them to stick around. Even if they had, Steve was almost sure they would have made him throw a party, where they would have pressured him to get drunk and sleep with someone, and…
Yea, Steve wasn’t interested.
The one birthday he spent with Nancy had been okay. She had to go on a family trip, her parents attempt at getting their kids to cheer up over the loss of their friends, and she was going to leave the morning of his birthday. But at midnight of July 2nd, she had snuck into his window even though she could have walked through the front door. Nancy had brought him a cupcake, a small present, and a soft smile. Steve had wanted to kiss her, but he knew it wasn’t what she wanted then. He wanted to be respectful, so he held her hand instead.
Nancy hadn’t brought a candle, said she didn’t want to risk burning the Harrington Household down. Steve had laughed, saying that would be the best birthday present ever, but she hadn’t laughed back.
The present had been a book. Which wasn’t a terrible gift per se, Steve liked reading it was just he had difficulty doing it. He couldn’t focus long enough, or he would have to reread sentences over and over again.
It just didn’t feel worth the frustration.
But it was sweet of her to get him something, so he tried reading it. It took him months to finish it, even though it was small. It was boring, and Steve had found the main character whiny, and Steve had begun to wonder if Nancy was trying to tell him something.
Then the Upside Down round two had happened, Steve got his ass kicked again and learned that Catcher in the Rye was Jonathan’s favorite book.
Steve had thrown out the book amongst his bloody bandages.
Steve was only slightly hopeful to have a good birthday last year. He had good friends (sure, one was his ex, and the other were children, but he still counted them); Dustin would be home from camp, and even though he had work, he got to spend the whole day bothering Robin, which brought him a special kind of joy.
But then they were cracking Russian code, getting tortured, and watching Max’s Stepbrother die, all within the days of his birthday.
So Steve didn’t have high expectations this year. Sure, people knew it was his birthday, it was hard to hide when he was friends with the nosiest people, but most of them were spending the entire weekend staying with Max, and he would have been too if Max hadn’t thrown a remote at him when he suggested it.
So Steve had conceded to having a quiet but lonely July 2nd.
But then at 7 am there was a knock on his front door.
A knock was putting it lightly, there was pounding echoing in the Harrington Household.
When Steve walked up to the door, he was prepared to drive away some bigots who had been trying to “repent Hawkins.” They had been going around the richer neighborhoods recently, saying we needed to clean up the streets of the sinners and the queers.
Yea, they were knocking on the wrong door.
Steve hadn’t expect Eddie Munson, notorious night owl, to be crowding his doorway at 7 am.
“Harrington, have I ever told you how absolutely ugly your house is? Like for how wealthy your parents are, they chose an absolute nightmare of a layout! It makes no sense.” Eddie budged his way past Steve with his arms full of bags.
“I’ve been telling him that for a year, Eddie, and every time he just shrugs!” Steve turned to find Robin bullying her way through him as well. She had a handful of videos in her hands.
“Sure, come in, I guess,” Steve mumbled. He shut the door and turned toward his intruders. “Not that I don’t love a surprise appearance at—“ Steve checked his watch “—7:03 am, but is there a reason why you are awake before the birds are even chirping?”
Eddie snorted and just gave him a look instead of answering. Robin shook her head, “What doofus hear is trying to convey with a noise, Jesus Eds, I know you’re not a morning, but words please, is that we are obviously here for your birthday. You, Steven Alison Harrington—“
“Not my middle name.”
“—we’re born at exactly 7:07 am on July 2nd. So we had to be here to say happy birthday officially!”
“How do you even know the time? I don’t even know that.”
“She snuck a look at your file last time Owen’s was in town.” Eddie smirked.
Robin hit him upside the head, “Don’t tell him that asshole, he already thinks I’m crazy enough. And don’t act like this wasn’t your idea!”
Eddie rubbed the back his head in dramatic fashion then yelled, “Snitch!” through hissed teeth.
Steve felt himself unthaw at the idea that these two weirdos woke up this early for him. “Ah, well, thanks, guys.” A blush rose on his cheeks, “Well, thanks for stopping by; you guys can go home and sleep if you want.”
“Stevie, did you think we brought all this to just leave? On your birthday. Oh no, no, no. We are having a whole movie and snack day! I brought weed, and chips, and we can order a pizza later in the day. And just be lazy weirdos in your fancy living room.” Eddie hopped up on his coffee table, startling a laugh from Steve.
“That sounds like a typically Friday for us, what’s so special about it?” Steve teased.
“Well we brought all of your favorite movies! Grease, Top Gun, Karate Kid, Indiana Jones...wait I think I'm noticing a theme here—“
“Robin!” Steve screeched, his blush coming back with vengeance. He didn’t want her to reveal there very obvious, and embarrassing pattern to his favorite films.
“And!” Eddie said from atop his place on the coffee table, unfazed by the two of them, “We are paying for the pizza.” His voice oozed with pride at that. Steve was sure he had come up with the idea.
“Wow I’m a spoiled prince. Maybe ever think I wanted to stay in bed?” Steve raised a single eyebrow.
“Oh but my sweet prince, we know you rather spend this glorious day with us.” Eddie was confident, with confidence came the damn nicknames, and Jesus Christ—this blush of his was never going away. “Besides what else could you wish for!”
A kiss from you. Steve thought quickly.
Steve sighed deeply before saying, “Alright. Get down.”
Eddie seemed taken aback, like he hadn’t expected the rejection. “Oh yea man, of course. We will get out of your hair.” He scrambled off the table.
Steve giggled, “No Eds. I’m moving the coffee table. This couch is a pullout. We can all just lay on it while we watch movies.”
Eddie’s face lit up while Robin yelled, “Oh thank god, I’m exhausted.”
An hour later, when the sun was still barely risen and Grease blared in the background, Robin was bundled up in the blankets they dragged from his room, out like a light.
Eddie and Steve huddled close, but didn’t touch. The anticipation and want sat between them. “I actually have something for you.” Eddie whispered.
Robin snored beside them; Steve looked at her fondly. “You don’t have to whisper; she’s a heavy sleeper. Learned that the hard way.”
“Ah well, I have a present for you.”
Steve knows he should say that Eddie shouldn’t have, or insist he returns it. He knew it was the polite thing to do. He couldn’t find it in himself to do it, though. The idea that Eddie even thought to get him something beyond the amazing day they had planned (truly Steve couldn’t ask for a better day), but Eddie had spent his time to get something for Steve.
It was nice to have someone who would do something nice for you just because they can, not because they should. So, Steve waited patiently as Eddie reached into his bag beside the couch.
“Here.” Eddie spoke, placing the roughly wrapped package in his lap.
There was a tiny notecard with Eddie’s chicken scratch on it; Steve decided to read that first.
Stevie,
No adventure is the same without you, and this is the only one I have taken without you by my side. Thought it was about time we changed that. Hopefully we are not forever partners in crime (we’ve had enough of that) but instead, adventurers taking on then great unknown.
Together.
Yours,
Eddie Munson ッ
Steve smoothed over the card and tried not to cry. The poorly drawn smiley face stared up at him from the piece of parchment. Steve tucked it into his pocket for safe keeping; he might even frame it.
Eddie looked at Steve eagerly as he tried to open the package. He does it slowly to tease Eddie; his frustrated little growl made butterflies in Steve’s stomach.
Inside the package is a worn-out book, one he would recognize anywhere, considering he saw it every day on Eddie’s bookshelf. “Eds, this is your copy of Lord of the Rings. I can’t take this.”
Eddie put his hair in front of his mouth, suddenly shy, “Well, it wouldn’t be exactly yours. It’s just I thought it would be fun to, ya know, read it together? Like we take turns reading to each other. I know the kids always bug you to read it, and I noticed that it’s hard for you to focus sometimes, and I get that, so it might be easier if we like make it a thing? I know it’s probably not your interest; it’s my favorite book, not yours, so you know what? This is stupid—“
Steve cut him off by pulling him into a hug. Steve buried himself into Eddie’s neck before saying, “Thank you. It’s the best birthday present.”
“Really?” Eddie pulled back to look at Steve’s face. Whatever he found there must settle him, because he relaxed his shoulders. “I know it’s silly, but I guess I wanted to share this piece of myself with you…and maybe spend some more time together.”
Steve didn’t mention how they spent almost every day together, didn’t think he had to either. They both knew.
Steve decided to be bold instead. He pushed Eddie back into the couch and settled his back into Eddie’s chest. He snuggled into the warmth of his arms.
Steve put the book in Eddie’s hand. “Okay, you read first.”
Eddie laughed; Steve could feel the vibrations from under his skin. It was delightful; it was delicious. “Oh, you want to start now?”
Steve made an indignant noise while Eddie laughed again at him. His hands settled at the back of Steve’s neck as he played with hair that brushed it.
“When Mr Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventyifirst birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was …”
And once again, hours later, when Steve woke up, after drifting to Eddie’s soft, deep voice, Steve felt something settle in him. He felt Eddie lightly snoring beneath him, one hand still tangled in his hair. He felt Robin’s hand wrapped around his ankle, grounding the both of them. And there, between all of them, was the fallen book with no bookmark, signaling they would have to start again.
Maybe, sometimes. Steve thinks, birthdays could be good.
***
projecting. projecting. projecting. that’s me.
I hope you guys liked this one :) I did use my own bday for him, but the time he was born at is different than mine lol. I had a lot of fun writing it, it was just the softness I needed.
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thelov3lybookworm · 7 months
Text
Love Needs No Voice (Part 1)
Summary: The famous guy is a little too stubborn for Y/n's liking.
•○●⛦●○•
A/n: The reader in this fic is mute. I just want to warn everyone, I have no experience or know anyone who has experience with muteness, so everything i write is based off of my research over the internet. If I write something that might offend anyone, please let me know so I can rectify my mistake. Its not my intention to hurt anyone.
That said, Enjoy!
•○🌑○•
The timer Y/n and Nesta had set rang, signalling the end of the hour, and some people from the table nearby looked over before returning to their conversation.
Finally. Y/n heard her best friend whisper from next to her, relief evident in the way Nesta cracked her back.
Y/n simply smiled at her friend from childhood, stretching her back as she clenched and unclenched her fist, sighing when her body relaxed after an hour of no movement.
It was saturday today, meaning most students of the university were either exploring London, sleeping in, or sitting in the cafe near the campus, completing notes and assignments.
Y/n had had nothing else to do, and she wanted to finish all her assignments, so she had planned to come to the cafe, and Nesta had insisted to come along.
And even though it had been her decision to tag along, Nesta had been fussy the whole morning, whining about wanting to do something else, but not wanting to leave Y/n either. They had both settled on studying for three hours and then going out.
Nesta stood up, bending this way and that before sighing. "Let's go get something to eat." She mumbled.
Y/n thought about it for a second, then shook her head as the image of the famous boy flashed in her mind. She glanced around a little, then gestured at Nesta to go by herself.
"You're not hungry?"
Y/n again shook her head.
Nesta shrugged. "I'll bring you something."
Y/n waved, then turned back to her book, continuing to scribble her notes across it.
Y/n watched her friend make her way through the crowd of students toward the line that led to the cafe counter, leaning back in the cushioned seat she currently occupied.
The scrape of a boot caught Y/n's attention, and she stiffened a little, hoping it was not who she knew it was.
Alas, the fates were not kind to Y/n on some days, and today was most probably one of those days, considering she'd stubbed her toe almost over five times now.
The handsome boy that all the girls from the university fawned over dropped into the seat next to Y/n, a huge smile on his face.
Y/n suppressed her sigh.
Y/n should have known there was a chance she would encounter him today, considering one of his friends worked as a barista in this exact cafe.
The violet eyed boy had never noticed her until a month ago, and Y/n had used to believe herself lucky to be out of sight of the boy that basically smelled of money, who wore clothes that practically screamed My father is rich, haha, you losers.
But then on that fateful day a month ago, Y/n had decided to stay in the library finishing up some of her literature assignments, and that had probably been one of the worse decisions of her life.
Nesta had her cheerleader practice that day, and then she had been too tired to study, so Y/n had told her to go home. To go and get some rest, that Y/n could handle by herself.
How wrong she'd been.
After two hours of study, the sky had begun to darken in the distance, rain clouds gathering, promising heavy rain. Y/n looked out the window, and decided it was time to call it a day. She gathered all her supplies and notebooks, placing them neatly into her bag. Y/n was never one for messiness, and her mother and Nesta liked to joke that her need for organising everything perfectly will bite her in the ass one day.
That day, Y/n understood what they meant.
Y/n meticulously stored everything away, arranging her books in the order she wanted, all the while glancing out the window and hoping it wouldn't rain anytime soon.
After she was finally done, she raced towards the exit, finding another student standing there, staring out over the grounds, now wet with the heavy rain that began pouring. He wore a simple black vest and grey sweatpants, his dark hair tousled, his neck gleaming with sweat.
Y/n skid to a stop, her shoulders slumping in disappointment. She was too busy wondering how she would go back to the small rented apartment she shared with Nesta, not realising the person next to her was none other than the Rhysand.
Y/n frowned when she felt eyes on her, and she glanced from the corner of her eye to find the boy staring at her. She turned her eyes to the small puddle quickly forming a little distance away, glaring at it, a blush climbing up her neck at the intensity with which he stared at her.
"Hey. I'm Rhysand." He waited for a few moments, and when it was clear Y/n would not reply, he continued awkwardly. "Is anyone coming to pick you up?"
Y/n blinked, looking at the guy. She stared at him for a moment, then glanced behind her, checking to make sure no one was standing behind her and that he really was talking to her. He rose a brow at her actions, and she quickly shook her head no.
"So... do you have an umbrella?"
She again shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself, her blush spreading down her neck when she realised that she was wearing the worst possible outfit ever.
Rhysand opened his mouth to speak again, but just then a sleek, shining black sedan pulled up, and he paused. A man in a full suit stepped out of the driver's side opening an umbrella, walking the few steps towards Rhysand.
The man said nothing, just stood holding the umbrella over Rhysand's head, who turned to Y/n with a cheeky smile. "And that is my very talkative body guard. Very cheery, that man."
Y/n stared blankly, wondering if she was supposed to laugh. His smile faltered, before widening as he stepped towards his car. This guy really was rich.
He made to get in, but turned at the last moment. "If you don't have an umbrella, how are you going to go home?"
Y/n simply shrugged, tugging her jacket tighter around her. A frown appeared on his face. He stood there, studying Y/n for long enough that she had to resist the urge to squirm. "I can give you a ride." He said, matter of factly.
When Y/n shook her head, he silently contemplated something, then turned to his bodyguard. "Give her the umbrella."
The man in the suit didn't even hesitate, simply waited for Rhysand to get settled before shoving the umbrella at her. Y/n stared at him, panicked. He stood unmoving, waiting for her to take the umbrella.
Y/n grabbed it, wishing more than ever that she could talk in that moment. She wished she could tell Rhysand to keep the umbrella, but he obviously would not have learned the sign language and there was no other way she could talk to him, and she didn't have the will to get out a pen and paper.
Rhysand rolled down his window, something like concern and curiosity swimming in his eyes. "You can return it to me tomorrow, if that's why you are so hesitant." Y/n nodded reluctantly, swallowing. He smiled. "Are you sure you don't want me to drop you home?"
Y/n shook her head, then ran off, knowing he would try to continue talking, and then eventually find out about her lack of voice, and then pity her. Then tell the whole university so everyone can make fun of her. That's what usually happened.
She didn't need anyone pitying her out bullying her. She did enough of that herself.
Someone nudged Y/n's shoulder, and she blinked out of her thoughts, turning to find Rhysand smiling at her.
Y/n swallowed, trying not to get lost in his beautiful violet eyes.
"How are you doing?"
Y/n studied him for a moment, then turned back to her notes. She felt him deflate next to her. "Why don't you talk to me? Why do you ignore me?"
Y/n fidgeted with her pen, attempting to block him out. It didn't work. His voice was just that hypnotic. "If you want me to leave you alone, just say the word." He mumbled, his voice sad.
Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, releasing a breath through her nose.
A tense silence descended around the two of them, and Y/n wondered if he had left. When she opened her eyes, she found him studying her intensely. This time, she held eye contact.
A few moments passed, and suddenly, he jolted, his eyes widening in shock. Y/n's brows furrowed, and she turned to glance behind her at the seats behind her, wondering if something was going on.
When she turned back to him, he still looked like he had seen a ghost, though now his eyes swam with emotion.
"You- you... you can't..."
His words did nothing to soothe Y/n's confusion, and she simply blinked at him.
"You can't, can you? I said if you want me to leave you alone, just say the word. You..."
Suddenly, it all clicked for Y/n.
He knew.
Y/n straightened, grabbing all her books and shoving them haphazardly into her bag. A book's cover even folded outward, but Y/n pushed it in, uncaring. All she wanted to do now was to run away, far, far from everyone that knew, from everyone that would soon find out.
Rhysand grabbed her hand as soon as Y/n stood and pulled her bag over her shoulder. Precisely at that moment, Nesta came bounding up to the two of them as he too followed Y/n up, a to go cup of coffee in her hand and a muffin in another. The muffin Y/n loved.
Nesta slowed down, raising a questioning brow at Y/n. Knowing everyone would soon find out, Y/n signed to Nesta.
He knows.
Nesta stiffened, then handed Y/n the muffin so she could sign back. Did you tell him?
Y/n shook her head, walking closer to Nesta and ignoring Rhysand as he called her name. He figured it out.
Nesta glared at Rhysand, then grabbed her bag from Y/n and dragged her best friend away.
Y/n felt eyes on her all the way until she reached the exit, and she turned to look back at the stunned boy once.
What she saw confused her a little, but she could not contemplate on it much as Nesta didn't stop.
He had looked guilty, but also...
Determined.
•○🌑○•
Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe
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livelaughlovesubs · 5 days
Note
for your aniversary can u do aventurine w/ Forcing them to divulge past tramaus or secrets and calling them a mocking name or title?
Oh- being sadistic much aren’t we? (Edit: I went overboard)
Mean!reader x Aventurine (?) - reader is gon
Warning: no smut lul, reader’s real egotistic, bringing up past trauma, dark content (?)
Anniversary event
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Loud and obnoxious, with flashing lights all over the establishment. The quiet lobby music fading in and out of the conversations, with the sound of dice and cards taking the front stage. Occasionally, a cry for help or laughter would break out, or a scream of despair. Indeed, so was the never changing atmosphere of the casino. You sat by the bar counter, clicking the metal rod that came with your drink against the glass. Then, you took a sip of it.
Long have you gotten bored of these simple stimulations, the feeling of life and death being at stake was no where to be found. That’s because you overdid it, you found out all the tricks to success, and now you were waiting for someone else to notice as well, to have a fair and unpredictable game with them. One of the reasons of why you didn’t stop coming to the gamblers house, the other one being it has become a part of your routine.
And, as if your prayers have been heard by the aeons, the day where you’d met such a person really came. It came in the form of a surprising defeat. You stared at the cards of your opponent, glistening sweat rolling down the side of your forehead, hieratic heart beat pounding in your head. “I lost.” A small whisper among all the other noises in the background, then the corners of your mouth twitched upwards.
“Fuck- haha, I really lost huh?” Your tone was a little irritated but all in all amused. Then you turned your gaze to your opponent, eyeing him up and down. A handsome young man with blond hair and fancy clothing, a soft smile plastered on his face. “Sorry, pal, but that’s what it means to gamble.” You shook your head, grinning, “no need to apologise, I should thank you.. erm?” “Aventurine.” “Ahh~ aventurine, from the IPC huh? A big shot, thanks for doing me the honours of playing with you. Seems like the rumours aren’t just rumours this time.”
It was the truth, you weren’t mad in the slightest, no, you were glad you found a new challenge to overcome. Though, this was a difficulty you didn’t expect, because the next time and the time after you did nothing but lose. This was more than skill, there was something else about him that causes him to win. You were sure of it after playing against him so often. That’s why you decided to play dirty.
By the next time you two played, you’ve done some background check on him. Well, not just some, you knew everything about him afterwards. From the smallest things to some high peaks and lows of his life. Once again, you entered the casino, an unusual confidence in your steps as you headed straight for the table where Aven was playing. “Hey Aven! Still on your winning streak aren’t ya?” Due to your many encounters, you’ve grown accustomed to calling each other by a nickname.
“Oh, hey palm still haven’t given up?” The boy asked you, turning his head around to give you a small greeting. He was still in the middle of a game, though he looked unfocused now that you came. “You bet, I won’t stop until I’ve won.” Suddenly, he laughed, pushing his bangs back. “That’s the spirit! Fine, let me finish this one first.” It didn’t take long until he was done, and without doubt, he won. Afterward he pointed at the chair next to him, hinting at you to sit down.
“No, I have something special planned for this match. I booked us a vip room.” You moved your head in the direction of the single rooms, smiling brightly. “Ah? My, you are making me excited, lead the way my friend.” He said, voice rid of any suspicion. After all, even in the worst case scenario, he could still take you in a fight. Your grin widened as you walked over to the rooms, opening a door and making a hand gesture at him, “after you.”
He nodded, as a way of saying thanks, then sat down all comfortable onto the couch. “This room sure is fancier than the rest, even the couch is softer.” You popped onto the armchair opposite of him, taking out the cards, and mixing them. “The atmosphere is so different, it’s so quiet.” Aven stared at your hands, wondering if he should trust you with the task of dealing, “hey, pal, we gon’ switch who’s dealing every turn?” You answered, “of course.”
After you were done with the mixing, you asked him, “what do you want to play?” The Blondie chirped, “your choice, you wanted to challenge me after all.” You hummed in acknowledgment, cooing delighted, “how about hold ‘em?” In return he responded, “bring it on.” While you were busy laying out the cards, he opened a suitcase and took out come chips, commenting, “say, how much do you want to bet?” You glanced at him for a split second, then said, “how about we start with 88 million?” Aven smirked, “sounds good to me.”
A few drinks and quite a few poker games later, the game was finally spiralling towards the end. Playing something like this in a one on one situation was way different than in a big group, it depended a tad more on luck than probability. Even so, his luck seems to be as unfair as ever, with how he was holding almost all of the chips now. “You really don’t disappoint, IPC big shot.” You chuckled, slumping back to carefully think it through.
“Hehe, it’s all a coincidence.” Aventurine said, while raising the stakes by 15 million. “Ah? Why the rush, peacock boy?” He was trying to make you fold or go all in, though were your cards really good enough? “Well it’s getting late. So, what’ll it be, my friend?” You smiled, but it wasn’t just a simple smile, it had something sinister and ugly behind it. “You are really dying to get back to the lion’s den, huh?”
A frown appeared on his pretty face, it was gone as fast as it popped up, and he tried to ignore it, “haha, you didn’t brush me as someone opposed to the IPC.” You shook your head, “no, i’m not, not necessarily so. Rather, I’m wondering what you think about it, former slave Aven?” He clenched his fists, a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face, his usual cheekiness was gone, instead replaced with a sense of dread, “Y/n, you know what I could do to you when you call me with such a detestable title.”
“Oh? Did I hit a nerve there? Please pardon me then, I was simply joking.” You shrugged, then continued with, “or rather, I was intrigued to know if the rumours are true.” Out of nowhere, he leaned over the table and grabbed you by the collar, chips and cards long discarded on the floor. “What rumours?” Your irritating smirk didn’t dissipate, instead you kept your composure and told him, “how you came from an eradicated planet, and was passed around like an object.”
Something shattered inside him, his hand that was grabbing you felt weak. His stomach curled as he remembered all these ancient— long forgotten times he had eradicated from his storybook, his script. Yet somehow, you still found out, and if he could take you by your word, you weren’t the only one who knew. The overwhelming pounding of his hearts beats were almost hurting, he starred at you, are your lips that were moving, but he couldn’t focus.
Your voice rang in his ears, uncomfortably so, loud, obnoxious yet unclear, a high pitched beep was all that reached him before suddenly— all sounds vanished, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. It was quiet, as if he was stuck battling his own consciousness, plagued by memories he tried to seal away. Did you stop talking? Is that why he couldn’t hear a thing? Though your voice made him furious before, now he was in desperate need to hear you, to block out his terrible, horrible thoughts, to overshadow them.
In the midst of it all, you reached a hand out to him, rubbing the tattoo on his neck. “This is proof for your previous life, ain’t it, slave?” Then you stared right into his hypnotising eyes, a bright shade of magenta paired with a piercing royal blue, the most recognisable feature of him. “I guess everyone wanted a piece of those mesmerising eyes of yours.” His back was soaked in cold sweat now, chills ran down his spine while he dreaded your touch. It was awful, it creeped him out, it make his skin crawl, so much that he wished to scratch and rid his skin to shreds.
“Y-y/n, stop this at once, it’s not funny anymore.” He stumbled over his voice, the confidence he once had was long gone, leaving behind this broken and lazily fixed up man who was still showing signs of being worn out. The often times he was used, sold, and played with, you knew all about it, didn’t you? And instead of feeling a shred of pity —something you seemingly didn’t have— you taunted him.
A giggled erupted from you, then two and more to come. “What a lucky dog you are, since you are still standing as of today. Not as sane as before, but we can overlook that.” He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to speak up, uttering quieter than he wanted, “what do you want, y/n?” There wasn’t a hint of conviction in the way he talked, you had caught him on your hook. “Oh no, nothing, really. Just, isn’t it funny? How a slave like you managed to increase your worth by selling yourself? Like that deal you made with-” “shut up. Just- shut up y/n, stop.. please.”
“…oh?”
“Did I go too far? I’m sorry. Though, you did as well, didn’t you? You dirtied your hands and killed your owner.” He laughed in your face, “I don’t have an owner, I’m not a slave anymore.” Suddenly you have a face as if you’ve been waiting for this moment, grinning from ear to ear as you spoke, “Aha! So you aren’t denying my accusations. Then it must be true that the hands of all these filthy men touched and soiled you, no?”
To your surprise, or as you expected, he slammed his fist onto the table and shouted, “y/n, stop it right now with your ridiculous imagination. I don’t know what it is that you want from me, but leave me the fuck alone.” His face was red, with anger probably, but he trembled, he was scared, disgusted, repulsed even.
You sighed disappointed, before saying, “then, let’s finish this game of poker first. Alright slav—ehem— Aven?” He glared at you, he wanted nothing else but to leave, though he couldn’t when there were still money at stake. “Damn it, you played me, you never wanted to win the poker game- you wanted something else.” In response to his statement, you shrugged with your shoulders again, scoffing, “I’m no big, evil mastermind like that. In fact, it’s much more simple. I am chasing the thrill of it, and the high of a win. Though…”
You trailed off, leaned down to the floor to pick up the cards from the boy, then looking up at him, “I want it to feel like life-and-death for the both of us.” After you collected the two cards from him, he was still standing next to the desk, unmoving. But you ignored it, instead explaining, “since you threw them on the ground, I take it you folded? So, my win this time.” Normally he’s argue, obviously, but this time he was still in tumour, his inner conflicts haven’t been solved yet, he could only watch in despicable silence.
“Don’t look at me like that, wasnt I your old pal? Ah, that reminds me, 88 million— is a pretty number, no? It’s said to be a lucky number, and the price of your body during your first auction.”
At this point, his knees gave out, he felt back onto the couch, eyes blank as he stared at you, cursing underneath his breath. This game has been going on for too long, and it was only going to be worse from here on.
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