#like their whole personality was forced to be locked away and everything they loved was considered a flaw that needed to be erased

[solbaby7]

I love the blurb bar idea and I loved the pina colada one, how about a neat gin n tonic with a salt rim?

[ forced proximity: “you can’t seriously be insinuating that i should sit on your lap.” + smut + az ]

guys i got carried away 🫣🤭 but at least it’s finished and has minimal spelling errors 🤍🩷

-> BLURB BAR <-

To put it quite frankly, you and Azriel didn’t really get along.

It seemed almost easy for everyone else in the Inner Circle to latch onto him; to gravitate towards him and all his shadowy mysteriousness—but not you. Between his victim complex, lack of self-control and the inability to properly communicate his feelings like a normal person, you’d lost your patience for him long ago.

Maybe that’s why you laugh right in Rhysand’s face after he lays down the guidelines for your temporary deployment to the Steppes. Everything sounds perfectly normal up until the end when Rhysand’s lips form the words, “—and you’ll be going with Azriel; he’s already been briefed.”

“Very funny,” Shoulders shake through your laughter, tickled from the joke. “But, you don’t have to go to such lengths just to make me laugh Rhys.”

Your grin fades comically fast and the deep frown that takes it place doesn’t falter long after you’ve left the High Lord’s office and scrounged back to your own chambers to pack. Every move is mechanical, clothes being folded and stuffed away a little rougher than necessary as you try not to think about having to spend seven whole days holed up in a creaky cabin with some brooding bat.

To be fair, Azriel seems no happier than you about the situation, his signature brood securely in place when you meet on the balcony at the witching hour with bag in hand. “Come—let’s get this over with.”

You refrain from commenting on his attitude; hold yourself back from snapping when he snatches your duffle from your grasp just to watch it disappear in a puff of sentient shadow. They’d almost be cute—Azriel’s shadows—if they weren’t so fucking useless. Capable of procuring intel and acting as camouflage but can’t manage to hold two fae long enough to get them to the Illyrian mountains.

No, instead you were subjected to this. Close contact and his fucking hands holding onto your body as he flies on a route you’re unfamiliar with. You eye his wings cautiously, trying to be subtle when you peek over the strong line of his shoulder but being this close? He can feel every beat of your heart against your sternum. Every squirm and twitch of a limb as you try to find a more comfortable place to put your arm. “Will you stop moving?”

“I can’t help it,” Hips shift once more, one leg hitching just a little higher on his hip. “Your fucking daggers keep poking me.”

Azriel tenses up, muscles locking and suddenly you’re being moved how he pleases—both legs wrapped around his waist and a firm forearm clasped around the base of your spine. “Stay.” His voice is rougher than your used to, his blunt nails biting into the sliver of skin exposed to the elements. “Don’t move, we’re almost there.”

That was a lie—it would take hours to make it to the Steppes but the gruff command is surprisingly easy to follow. And while you’ll never verbally admit it, the secure bracketing of his arms around your body was more of a comfort than a nuisance. It’s all too easy to ease into his grasp, allowing sleep to take over until the journeys over and you swear you can feel him cradle you in closer, his nose ghosting over the crown of your head.

He makes absolutely no comment on it when you finally arrive with your hair ruffled, clothes crinkled and the imprint of Azriel’s syphon on your cheek other than a chuffed out, “You snore.”

Instinct screams at you to make some snappy comment back but reason doesn’t allow it to be voiced—not here. Here, you and Azriel would have to appear as a united front, for the males raised in this terrain were bred to sniff out any and all weaknesses to exploit. Only here do you allow the hand that permanently glues itself to the dip of your back, pushing you past rabid animals swollen with pride and snarling with hatred.

Slurs are spat from their lips but Azriel doesn’t pay them any mind, so you don’t either.

He walks through the camps as if he owns them, spine straight and shoulders square. Strong wings stand proudly behind him, shadows guarding your flank until the unforgiving chill is replaced by the stuffy warmth of a mess hall. It’s cramped—a little dirty and smells like a mixture of male and tobacco but either way you’re given a warm meal and fresh water to drink.

The vulgar comments grow more frequent, mutterings of their unwanted appreciation towards your body so sickening that your appetite threatens to scurry away. “They’re disgusting.” You scoff, setting down your tray of food, one hand curled around the chair.

It doesn’t give. Azriel’s boot curled around the leg holds it in place. Arched brows furrow at him, nose scrunching under the effort it takes not to kick him in his shin but there’s something about his body language that make you stop. “They’ll keep doing that shit if they think you’re free game.” Every syllable is clipped; laced with a wildness you’re unfamiliar with—almost as if he’s insinuating that it’s your fault that such brutish males were salivating at the sight of you. Darkness cloaks the hazel tones of his eyes when he meets your own and you nearly miss the gesture he makes.

One hand patting twice at his lap.

“Absolutely not.” Azriel’s boot shoves the seat away completely when you make a move to sit down on it once more. He settles deeper in his own, thick thighs manspreading as deft hands adjust the positioning of his holsters, guiding sharpened weapons away from the area of space he frees up for you. “You can’t seriously be insinuating that I should sit on your lap?”

“I’m not insinuating anything, this is me telling you—sit down.”

You pray he doesn’t see the blush that burns against your cheeks when you take a seat in his lap, his hands resting along the sides of your hips. He keeps eating as if nothing is new. As if he doesn’t realize the way his touch has you squirming against solid muscle through thick leathers, legs subconsciously parting to make more room for the wandering fingers that slide down your thighs, digging into sensitive inner thighs. “What are you doing?” You ask, barely able to grab at the food before you with the way your hands shake.

“I’m sending a message.”

Breath catches when you feel Azriel’s thigh flex between your legs, pressing against your sex in such a way that you’re certain it’s impossible that he hadn’t felt the way you clench in response. “What kind of message?”

“The kind that says someone already owns you.” People are looking, that much you know—can feel their eyes tracking every move. Azriel’s hand splayed over your stomach, his head tucked in the curve of your shoulder as his free hand spies its way through your breeches. There’s a pause, one where you’re time to push him away, to declare that this was entirely too far and smack him clear across his face.

That doesn’t happen. Your legs only part further, making more room for needy fingers to shove past your panties.

It’s a foolish decision, you can feel it the second you make it. As if you’d just unconsciously confirmed the ridiculous notion that you were one of Azriel’s possessions. To do as he pleased. To sit there splayed out across his lap like some puppet and allow him to take the reins and show off all your tricks until you’re boneless and drooling.

He’s too good with his hands. Too slick with the sly filth he mutters into your ear as he fondles at your clit under the table, pressing firm circles into the bundle of nerves until you’re panting like a bitch in heat.

You barely remember how much you hate him when he touches you like this. Until the orgasm fades and your consciousness clears and even though the way you lean into the dip of his neck appears like some typical lovers embrace—bystanders fail to hear the sharp way you sneer, “Tell anyone about this ever and I’ll fucking kill you.”

[littlebullofblythe]

ALASTOR NSFW ALPHABET

Disclaimer: this is my first time doing an NSFW alphabet but I thought it would be fun to do in between my other drafts. Feel like doing more of these so feel free to send in requests for other Hazbin characters!

Warnings : fem reader, mentioned somnophilia + breeding

A — Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Insanely gentle. You swear half the time this isn’t even the same man, and he must be an imposter. The moment you’ve wrapped up your session, he’s delicately dressing you in your nightgown (red, of course), tucking you into bed and locking his arms around you, cradling you close to him and humming until you fall asleep, all while running his fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead, cheeks and lips.

B — Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and their partners) His fingers, and your thighs. Nothing satisfies him more than seeing you a shaking, whimpering mess while he fingerfucks you into your bed, or seeing the bruises from his hands tightly gripping your thighs the next morning. A little reminder that you belong to him.

C — Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically) Nothing makes the crackle of static or his antlers grow as much as the thought of, let alone actually getting to, fucking you so full of cum that you have no choice but to clean the sheets the next morning. He won’t finish anywhere but inside your cunt, not even in your mouth.

D — Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs) He’s stolen your panties before - and he is convinced that you have no idea, but you know. Will you tell him? Absolutely not.

E — Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) He claims to have been a virgin until you, that he’s never touched another person intimately before, but the way he pounds you into the surface you’re against, making sure he hits every weak point with each thrust, how eagerly he eats you out while teasing you with his fingers, there’s no way it’s true. And if it is, he must have watched some insane videos.

F — Favorite Position (This goes without saying) He loves having you on your side, one leg draped over his shoulder, with his hand cupping your chin and forcing you to look up at him. The height difference only makes it sweeter, the position giving him the ability to hit as deep inside of you as he can, and feel your legs tremble against him as he ruins you, loving the sight of tears and your makeup running down your face.

G — Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc.) There isn’t much time for him to joke around in between his growling, and the praise he whispers to you. Occasionally, he’ll slow down and crack a joke, watching you giggle before resuming his standard pace, enjoying the startled noises that leave you every time.

H — Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.) He shaves as often as he has to, which is fairly often, and opts to just shave his whole body, save for a patch of red and black fur along his collar and chest, and little tufts of fur on his elbows, wrists and ankles. He knows how much you enjoy running your fingers through his fur, so he tries to leave some areas just fluffy enough for you, and you alone.

I — Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect) It doesn’t matter if you’re having a gentle, passionate session or if he’s pounding into you with reckless abandon, he’ll always lean down just enough to kiss you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how much he loves you and how perfect and gorgeous you are, how he couldn’t dream of being with anyone other than you, how you’re his everything.

J — Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) The only times he’ll ever get himself off are if he’s in his rut season, and you are nowhere to be found. That being said, if he sees you, and you aren’t in the middle of something important, you’re being whisked away to the bedroom and not being seen for a few hours at least.

K — Kink (One or more of their kinks) Breeding - he adores watching how overstimulated and loud you become as he fucks another load into your tight cunt, cupping your cheek and whispering in your ear about how good of a mother you’re going to be. Somnophilia - initially, it was experimental - you’d given him permission to fuck you while you slept one night, just to see how it was, and now one of his favourite activities is watching your eyes widen and your cheeks go dark red when you wake up to his cock buried inside you. You’ve come up with a system — if he finds you asleep without panties, it’s fair game for him to do whatever he wants with you. Biting - oh, how he loves biting you, leaving dark bruises all along your neck, chest and thighs from his sharp fangs, and seeing the aftermath the next day, dark bruises peeking up from the collar of your shirt.

L — Location (Favorite places to do the do) The bedroom, as basic as that is. He adores being able to fuck you silly, and then spoon with you until you both fall asleep.

M — Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) Seeing you bite your lip, especially when it’s directed to him. It’s become your subtle way of informing him just how needy you are when in a crowd full of people.

N — No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Threesomes / group sex. He doesn’t want to share you - you’re all his, no one else will get a chance to lay their hands on you the way he has. And anyone who does will be sorry.

O — Oral (Preferences in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He isn’t on the receiving end often. He finds it far too difficult to pull his cock from your mouth before he cums, and he won’t let himself finish anywhere but inside of you. When it’s the other way around, you have to physically force his head back from you before you pass out from overstimulation. He could eat you out with that long tongue of his for hours if you would let him (and you have! Once, but never again. You passed out towards the end and slept for the whole day afterwards.)

P — Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.) It depends entirely on his mood - which most of the time, means you’re getting violently pounded into the bed - it’s a wonder you’re even able to walk afterwards.

Q — Quickie (Their opinion on quickies, how often, etc.) He pretends he isn’t a fan of quickies - but how quickly he fucks up into you before he begins a broadcast and how often, says otherwise.

R — Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.) He’s probably the riskiest man you’ve met. He’ll have you firmly sat in his lap, buried inside you, occasionally rocking his hips to see you try and stifle a moan to not alert anybody - whether it be in the hotel parlor during an activity, or while he’s on air.

S — Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?) Technically, he could go for as long as he wanted, he enjoys seeing your tears of overstimulation and hearing your desperate moans far more than he should, but usually taps out after round three or four, maybe five if he really wants to see you a mess.

T — Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) He doesn’t bother with toys. Why would he, when you’re right there?

U — Unfair (How much they like to tease) He’ll tease you for hours if he feels like it, ghosting his fingers over your body, toying with your clit until you’re just about to cum, before pulling his hands away and going back to tracing little patterns against your skin.

V — Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) He’s not exactly loud, but not exactly quiet either. He’ll lean down just to growl in your ear. Often times he’ll trap you in a kiss in order to quiet you down.

W — Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character) Scratching the base of his ears or tail is enough stimulation to have him whimpering and desperately grinding against you. Having the base of his knot teased while he’s inside you is an easy way to have his pace suddenly grow more aggressive, making you see stars.

X — X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) His body is slightly fuzzy - he can’t get all the fur when he shaves, so there’s a slight fuzzy texture to his skin that you don’t mind at all. Various scars, across his chest, legs and arms, and a particularly nasty one over his chest from the fight with Adam. He enjoys you running your fingers along the edges of each scar.

Y — Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) The only time his sex drive would be considered high is during his mating season, which you are more than happy to help with. Otherwise, he’s got a relatively standard sex drive. 

Z — Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He can fall asleep in minutes with you cuddled up against his chest, especially if you’re playing with his hair. Your presence and touch soothes him enough to sleep.

Taglist (comment to be added!) : @angeldhd @ziankenvirus

[jolapeno]

there's nothing blue about you

javier peña x f!reader | masterlist

summary: javier peña's dreams are haunted by shades of blue, blending his fears into nightmarish landscapes. only his lover's touch anchors him, transforming his dreams into hues of something else.

warnings: 18+ smut, p in v. overuse of the colour blue, like by a lot. this whole this is an angsty bitch, with hopeful/hea. leans close to gothic horror in some ways but not quite, honestly? unsure how to describe what in the hell I've written. third-person reader (she/her). no descriptions, no y/n. an: written for @studioghibelli's fic challenge. (the moodboard is at the end of the fic). i think i leaned very much into painting and blue, and I'm not sure if that at all was what was asked of me. thanks: i'd have likely scrapped this if not for @goodwithcheese who took my weird-poetic-ness and called it lyrical and somehow it made it worth how long I've agonised over this. i hope she knows i love her, and if not, i hope this very public declaration confirms it. shoutout @pedgito who urged me to do this. wc: 2.7k

Javier Peña dreams in blue.

Thick strokes of azure, cerulean, and navy smear the world, forcing it to twist around him. Smearing the world, forcing it to twist around him. Knocking it all on its axis—allowing the horrors to blend into fairytales and happiness to shift into nightmares.

Shifting, changing. His worst fears come alive with brushwork, forcing scenarios to swallow hopeful desires.

Each blot spreads out like tendrils, drawing their tales in wide, brisk strokes, in shades of melancholy and yellow. The latter is a beacon—a spark of hope in a sea of nothing; a beam that guides him back to reality. To being awake, where his heart squeezes tight. Eyes open, struggling for breath before the sun has even risen. Sometimes, even before the stars have stopped sparkling and glittering. Sweat beads at his temple, palm to his chest—gasping, struggling to breathe as he drags his hand down his face, swiping the hair above his lip.

Then, anxiousness embroils. That same hand patting, sliding, eyes blinking furiously as he banishes shadows and forces them to shift back to non-threatening inanimate objects.

He’s able to breathe when he feels her. Alive, asleep.

Blissfully unaware of his nightly torture as her chest rises and falls—soft breaths mingling with ragged ones. Curling close, inhaling her scent, listening to the steady way her heart forces blood around her veins.

Hoping, praying, that when he closes his eyes he dreams of nothing, but knows they’ll be worse now. They always are when he wakes and reaches for her. As though by touching her, they spill to her, ruining her too. Wrap their fingers around her, change her skin to deep shades of blue in his hands as he falls through landscapes and lands in hell.

Then she sobs, pleads; tight little balled-up fists hammering at his chest as she shakes everything in him until she rips like paper, leaving him alone, just like he envisions he should be.

But then, he’d choose those over the ones where his hands are stained in her crimson, blotched, unable to be washed, little beads on his clothes and then a rainfall. Her split in his hand, eyes fading from light to dark. Those haunt him for longer when he wakes and he sits opposite her over breakfast and tries to force a smile.

Sometimes, he worries that his dreams have become the thing she adores. Reminding him of the poster she’s framed in her place—the one with swirls of a night sky.

She stares at it often, loses herself in it—escapes. Javi envies her for it. For being able to lock away the things that plague her, evading them, not to be tormented by them in fields that shift and flutter around him. He thinks it’s because she carves out the parts that make bags appear under her eyes through painting. Inspired, thriving, transforming wicked things into light, taking something that weighs her to something that makes her smile. Each drag of her paintbrush was like a spell, like magic.

“It helps.”

“How so?” he replied, leaning against the wall, arms folded, admiring.

Shrugging, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand before dabbing the brush into the murky water. “Just does.”

He wishes she’d run the brush over him. Run the synthetic filaments over every part of his skin.

But then, if he was asked, Javi would choose not to have the dreams at all. Would rather not be lost in a labyrinth of blues, where a lantern flickers and tries to guide. Instead, they cast ochre-shaded shadows that appear like shape-shifting failures. Each of them dancing, whispering secrets, finding all he can do is follow. Trust in it, hopeful it takes him to her, like his real life.

An accidental meeting, a connection that soothed his bones. One that had him smiling when he sat back in his truck, had him thinking when the darkness smothered the backyard and had him wishing for second meetings.

But, unlike his reality, the path is never straight, always winding, always shifting.

Sometimes, he sees her in the distance, her figure bathed in moonlight, a silhouette against the swirling sky. Sheet falling, curves and all on show. He reaches out, only for her to fade, dissolving into the night, leaving him grasping at the air like he’s chasing a ghost. A thing conjured, never real.

But, she’s real now.

His arm is behind his head when he hears the faint groan as she stretches before a palm slides over the soft curve of his stomach. Her breath fans over his lips, a whispered morning before they press to his. Smooth, velvety, gentle—addled with sleep, yet dripping in need. His name is punctuation in the sentence when she says, want you.

He never squanders the chance to remind himself of actuality. Moving her until she’s on her back, until she’s as bare as she is in his dreams—nothing blue, nothing midnight, cobalt or sapphire. Feeling her, taking the time to as he kneads her breast and grazes his teeth over the bud that hardens against his tongue as her nails scrape red along the olive of his skin.

There’s no making up the way she feels between her thighs, warm, slick, and inviting—or the gasp she emits when he curls two fingers inside of her and her back arches at the intrusion.

A blessing. That’s how he’d describe her when he’d been caught smiling, wearing smitten like an accessory. Questioning on the second date if she could be the sun to his night. Bright, luminous, radiant. The type he’d somehow expect to find shopping in town in a movie, but not in Laredo.

Too perfect—

Made only more so when she’d slid her underwear into his pocket on their third date. Before the mains, after the starters. Too much of the meal to go before he could make an excuse that’d allow him to hear if she moaned as pretty as he had thought.

It’s too pretty the noises she makes. Another thing he yearns for. She emits them in varying shades, but they’re always cried with his name—whether he fucks her rough or gentle, whether he takes his time or bends her over the couch decorated in plush cushions and creased blankets.

She welcomes it, when he hikes her dress up or when he pushes her panties to the side; when his mouth is pressed to her spine or when it’s crashing to her lips. Use me, she says, suave, sultry—each letter wrapped in intoxication as she leaves dye only he can see on his skin and he leaves bruises that he’ll look to replace in a few days.

He remembers when she painted him.

When she made him beautiful on white canvas—saw him, immortalised him with finger marks and paint strokes.

Do you like it?

He answered only by sliding down onto his knees, by pulling the shorts she paints in down her glorious thighs and answering yes against her pussy. His tongue explained it better than words could. His fingers had dug into the flesh of her rear as his nose bordered her swollen clit, her thigh rested on his shoulder and her palms pressed into her workbench, leaning back, for leverage as he fucked her with his tongue, as he drank up every drop she’d give him—as though it healed him, fixed him.

When he can, Javi likes bending her over around her paints—taking her. Likes that sometimes an open can or a left-out brush stains him in a way he can see. Rich oranges and deep greens. He enjoys spreading her out on her workbench as he makes her whine his name which makes all other ways his name is spoken seem obsolete. That there’s more than her sweat on his skin, her scent digging into his bones—evidence, proof of existence.

He has all the evidence now as he slowly slides his cock inside of her. As he swallows her whine, her moan—a gasp tinged with thankfulness. Feeling her stretch around him, take him in one smooth movement as allows himself to glance down and see where they meet. Then, he drags his eyes up, and sees how she smiles, how her fingers are reaching for him, grabbing for him. Needing, desperate, wanting.

But not just for his body, for what lived inside of his jeans. But for him.

Not just the daytime, but the blue version that drapes over him when things get too quiet and his mind gets too loud. No question asked, but an offering of comfort. Like when she had slid across his lap, when she pulled his head to her chest, brushed fingers into his hair. And he wonders like he did then and only ever to himself, how cruel it is that he cannot be something more for her. How unfair it feels for such sunshine to be surrounded by a storm.

He had smiled, though. Half-assed and minimal. Pulled her closer, so she sat more comfortably across his thighs. The grin barely reached his cheeks, never mind his eyes. “How strange, to dream of you even when I am wide awake.”

Her snort loud had punched the air. “Poet now, are we?”

“For you, I’ll be anything.”

More words had surrounded it, not spoken, but there. I’ll do anything, be anything. I’ll try, I’ll—

Unsure how else he could keep such a thing, unsure how he can keep perfection curled up against him, who’ll remind him his demons are only self-inflicted.

“Maybe just be you. You, are plenty enough.”

He had sneered, chin dipped, shame blooming.

“Hey,” she says urgently, fingers hooking under his chin as she drags his eyes to hers. “You are, Javi. And I’ll be reminding you of that until I have no words left in my mouth.”

“Be a while then, with how much you talk.”

Even as she pinched him, he pressed how he didn’t deserve her against her lips, against her cheek, neck and collarbone. Not that she took them. Ripped them instead, shredded them.

“You don’t have to pretend with me.” Her fingers then glided across the back of his neck, head rested against his. “Because, you know, Javi, there’s nowhere or no one else I’d rather be sat on…”

A beat passed, one he waited for, fingers brushing over her skin. “…crushing.”

He laughed then. 

Because she always pulls laughs from him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he’s a soul full of joy, happy. Like he wasn’t a man who had spent a decade around destruction, misery and streets filled with scarlet, weighed down by it. 

She makes it lighter. In the same way, she calms him at night and he thanks her for it in the morning.

Like he’s doing now. Licking his thumb before he presses it to her clit, swirling, forcing her pussy to draw around him, to hold his cock as tightly as he needs, sucking him in, gasping for more as her breasts bob with each thrust, and her mouth falls open in a silent moan—

“Close, m’close, Javi. Fuck, baby—”

He presses his mouth to the juncture of her neck, feeling her attempt at vocalisation. Letting it vibrate against his lips, tingle. Proof that he’s awake, that this is real, that in any moment things won’t turn—

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he groans, pressing kisses, dotting them in a pattern like stars in the sky. “Feel so good around me...”

She whines. A noise he banks in his mind, a jar full now—one that sparkles and shimmers.

“You feel good too.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, hands sliding around his neck, digging into the hair at the base of his neck. “Always make me feel good,” she slurs.

Javi hooks her leg over his waist. A new angle, one that drives him deeper, as she clenches and he snaps his hips to hers. Feeling her close to snapping, her thighs already shaking, trembling. His chest heaving, her ribs expanding, copious breaths to still the dizziness she inflicts on him—just by being, just by existing.

It’s building, that fire in his veins, the fever that spreads out of him when he releases inside of her and she tugs him close as she comes down from her high. His hips stuttering, his name a symphony that erodes all other noises from his dreams.

And, there’s nothing blue about this. Nothing despairing, melancholy about this, about her.

Not when she flutters and arches when she comes and uncoils. Her fingers dig into whatever part of him she can get to before he smears himself inside of her, groaning into her neck as he spills and thinks of nothing but how much he adores her.

How much he loves her. Because he does. He loves her, he loves her, he loves her.

“I love you too,” she whispers from underneath him, his head pulling from her neck—elbows on either side of her face.

Finding seriousness staring back, her fingers skating over the sweat sliding down his forehead, wiping it on the sheets she lies on.

“Unless you hadn’t meant to say it. Then I take it back.”

He blinks. Thinking of the summer’s day when he’d first seen her; the first rainfall two months later when his arms had wrapped over her front, pressed her back to his chest and they felt the cooling air slide over their warm skin. He remembers the night he’d told her everything, and the new candles that had become stumps as she listened; the stormy afternoon turned night when he’d taken her out of town, and how her hand had slid over his and thanked him.

“I meant it.”

Her lips slide into her cheek, palm pressing to his chest. “Good.”

He wonders over morning coffee, when she glances at him and smiles if his dreams are merely a reflection of his fears—rather than anything that could come true. A manifestation of his fears of losing her, fearing the day when the blues will no longer be just dreams. Because good things don’t always, least of all to those who don’t deserve it.

He blinks them away when she tells him she has something to show him, hearing her bare feet on the floor until he doesn’t, counting, reaching twenty, before she appears, a new canvas in hand.

And when she turns it, letting it face him, his breath is stolen—feet forcing him to stand.

Her hand held it, the brightest shades that could ever be. Mixed brushstrokes into something that heals a crack in him, one that he’s never asked for. Because in every shade but blue is him and Pop outside the ranch, a place that had never felt like home, but now feels like the only place he could ever call such.

“Where are you?”

She blinks, the slightest frown in her brows. “What… what do you mean?”

“You belong there too, cariño.”

And if she hadn’t believed him in bed, in the things he’s not said, he thinks she believes them now. Leaning the canvas against the counter, feet padding towards him before her mouth is on his—different, more necessary, as his arms slip around her waist.

Something else slid back into place, able to fill his lungs a little easier.

Not a shade of blue in sight, not indigo, powder or sky.

And he worries it’s temporary—a thing that’ll change come nighttime. But he smiles all the same, right against her hairline when he presses a kiss there too. Feeling her hand sliding around his waist, becoming an anchor, a rock, a crutch.

He loves that about her too, that she does that for him. But he’ll tell her that tomorrow.

A silent promise, one beginning to stitch with a smile. And, then, when nightfall comes, and the painting rests against the wall of his room, Javier Peña finds—for the first night since he’s been back—that he doesn’t dream in blue.

Instead, he dreams in yellow. In honey, citrus and sunshine.

[gavisimmaculaterizz]

— bother II / jude bellingham.

summary: after a long tortuous night, jude finally decides to apologize. (part 1 here)

special thanks to @stephiii29 for the inspiration 🤍

warnings: none

masterlist

jude was not the type of person to be confrontational, and so were you. the night was cold and aloof, it felt heavy and suffocating to say the least.

jude couldn’t sleep knowing he messed up real big, which was letting his anger out on you. he knew that he shouldn’t project his anger out on you, but your question made him snap, losing his consciousness and not thinking straight. all night he twisted and turned, hoping the sun rose soon to apologize to you.

he knew it’d be difficult to apologize, knowing you were not the person to express feelings. so he put his mind to think on ways to make you forgive him.

meanwhile in the comfort of the living room, you laid in the couch, still sad over the mini “argument” you and jude had earlier. you knew it wasn’t your fault, but you still felt a guilt in your stomach for causing him to snap at you. you really missed his touch, his scent, everything. it was like you were deprived for his touch. when you and him slept together, you felt like he protected you,

like your personal bodyguard.

you shook your thoughts away and checked your phone. you looked at the time and realized it was still early for your liking.

3:49 am

jude usually gets ready at 7, so you forced yourself to sleep, taking meletonin. you knew you were being a brat by trying to avoid jude, but it was the best decision you could make at the moment. you didn’t want to anger jude more, so you thought it’d be better to leave him alone to marinate in his thoughts and go to sleep.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

7:15 am

jude was awoken from his short slumber with an obnoxious alarm, signaling it was time to get ready. he did his usual routine which was showering, changing, brushing his teeth, and combing his gorgeous locks. during his whole routine he couldn’t stop and think how he left you last night, he deeply regretted what he said knowing it hurt you more than him.

he left your shared apartment disappointed. before he left he stopped by the living room and noticed you knocked out. he noticed the little details in your face, especially the dried tears on your face. his heart shattered seeing you broken, all because of his words.

on the way to the ciudad deportiva del real madrid, jude stopped by a local flower shop, placing an order of your favorite flowers to give to you when he came back from practice.

thoughout the training session, his teammates couldn’t help but notice the way he was training. this wasn’t like the jude they knew, did the loss in the bernabéu last night really affect him?

“tío, are you still angered over the loss yesterday?”, asked modric.

jude couldn’t help but stare deeply into the croatian’s eyes, shaking his head, signaling it wasn’t about that.

the croatian took it as a sign to not further bother the british.

as practice finally ended, jude quickly got ready and stopped by the flower shop to pick up the flowers he got you. he couldn’t also forget to stop by your favorite fast food restaurant. he knew you like the back of his palm, he knew every nook and cranny about you that it felt like you two have known each other since birth.

1:05 pm

apon arriving at your shared apartment, jude prepared his apology, making sure to not forget why he’s apologizing.

he fixed his shirt nervously, slowly opening the door to your shared apartment, trying not to make any noise.

you were in the kitchen, cleaning up the remaining mess you left from last night, forgetting to clean the dishes up from when dinner was served. you heard his footsteps behind you, your heart beating faster than ever.

“hi my love.”, jude said softly. you couldn’t help but mentally fold because he called you my love, you always fell more in love with him when he used that pet name.

“hey..”, you said softly, copying his tone, trying to sound put together. upon your words, jude immediately hugged you.

“please forgive me for what i caused you last night y/n. i let my emotions get to me, i never meant to make you feel sad or guilty over what happened last night. please just forgive me…”, he said nervously. you couldn’t help but smile at his apology. immediately accepting it by giving him a kiss.

“apology accepted.”, you said sheepishly. he immediately gave you a kiss, later then showing you what he bought you.

you couldn’t lie, he was such a sweet person when it came to apologizing. you could apologize to him right on the spot because of his gorgeous looks.

after all you weren’t a bother to him..

a/n: ty guys so much for the support on my first fic! i really appreciate it 😞❤️!! also this is really rushed bc im kinda busy 🥲

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Handprints |

18+ Minors DNI

✧Pairing✧ Hugh Ransom Drysdale x Fiancé Reader (F)

✧Warnings✧ Soft Rannie, Jealousy, Some lil bitch flirting with what’s yours, Insecurities, Wow Ransom knows comfort??, Drinking, Crying, Assault (deserved), Unprotected PinV, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Aftercare King — This is pretty tame for me but if I’ve missed any warnings please don’t be afraid to let me know

✧Word Count✧ 1.4K

✧Author Note✧ Everyone say frick you to this man because I ain’t been able to get things done thanks to his stupidly handsome face and my brain hyperfixating on it. Fr tho I have WIPs, ideas and everything inbetween all left to rot because this son of a bitch is plaguing my mind. He’s so hot tho….

Also big thx to my homegirlies @samodivaa @delicatebarness for reading my filth and coming up with the title 🫶

You didn’t want to go out with Ransom tonight. You had your evening all planned out; sex in the shower, snuggling in bed, sex there too — the whole shebang. But of course, Ransom found himself invited to a dinner party with some old friends that he was excited to introduce you to, so your evening was cut short to merely sharing the shower with him and fleeting kisses between tellings of his long day — he didn’t even have time to make you cum.

The night was enjoyable; most of your fiancé's friends were just like him so you could deal with them. Until she arrived, her curves wrapped in a beautiful floor-length golden gown, her incredibly blonde locks curled to perfection and her eyes predatory.

“Oh my god Rannie!!” She squealed at the sight of your incredibly handsome man, outstretching her perfect little arms and pulling him in for a tight hug.

“Hey Charlotte” Ransom smiled wide, perfect pearly white teeth directed at the stunning lady “This is my fiancé” he said, reaching a large ringed hand out to envelop yours.

Charlotte turned, that cute little lady act dropping to a sneer when she turned her attention to you. Jealously oozed out of her, jealously and bewilderment. Her scrutinising glare made you feel ugly and small.

“Hey,” she forced, spitting your name back at you. Her hand squeezed Ransom’s bicep “Wow Ran you’ve gotten big…” her eyes flickered to him before returning to you “Did you see him in high school, he was so scrawny, skinny little arms and a big bobblehead. Bet you get a lot of girls' attention now hm?”

God you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“Maybe but I’ve only got my eyes on one” Your betrothed looked upon you with sparkling blue orbs, squeezing your hand tight. For a moment the party faded leaving you both staring into each other's adoring eyes until Charcuterie cut it short with a fake ‘awww’.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it then,” she says, giving Ransom a bright, man-killing smile and you a much duller, green eyed glare.

“Well that went well.”

“Huh?” Ransom turns, pulling you close by your waist and laying a soft kiss on your forehead.

“She likes you,”

“Yuh huh?”

“And she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you” he guffawed, his eyes scrunching up until the blue was barely visible.

“She does, she’s jealous” you argued, pushing him away slightly.

“I think you’re projecting pretty girl” he joked, quickly reining in his laugh when he noticed how upset you looked. Ransom put on a more serious look, hooking a finger under your chin with his free hand “Baby, you’re the only person I want. I only love you” You knew that. There was just something in that girl's gorgeous eyes that made your whole mind thrum with insecurity.

“I know” You pouted and he kissed you with a coo.

“Of course you do, look at the size of that rock on your finger” For effect he clasped your left hand, shoving the massive crystal into your eyeline.

The rest of the night you tried to let the situation with Charlotte go. You stuck around your fiancé most of the evening, stealing his warmth while listening to his old college football teammate drum on and on about how good of a quarterback Ransom once was.

“I remember one game he got rushed to hospital trying to challenge this mountain of a man. He was on his ass and there was blood pouring out of his head.”

“That must’ve been why he thought it was a good idea to settle for someone like her, y’know with the head injury.” A loud laugh came from behind your small huddle, you knew who it was before you even turned.

“That was out of order Charlotte” a girl in your group chastised, glaring at the now very drunk woman.

“Oh I don’t care, you lot sugarcoat everything. Ransom you could do so much better than…that” Her ringed hand failed in your direction, and a growl settled on her lips at the mere sight of you. It was enough to push you over the edge.

Shoving Ransom’s arm off your shoulders you darted away, heading straight for the car you came here in. You had to get out of the crowd, you were thoroughly embarrassed and angry at the whole situation, fat tears falling down your face by the time you swung the passenger door open.

You don’t know how long it took Ransom to settle in the seat beside you, not too long anyway. Instantly his arms were around you, a hand cradling your head into his neck while the other rubbed up and down your spine.

“I'm so sorry baby, I’m so fucking sorry” His words were thick with remorse, his fingers tightening around you “We shouldn’t have come here.”

He let you cry until you ran out of tears, his arms wrapped around you tightly until you pulled away, sighing at the wet patch on his tan jacket.

“I’m sorry” you whispered in a low voice, rubbing a sleeve over his wet shoulder in a feeble attempt to dry it off.

“Don’t apologise, pretty girl, that's what I’m here for. For letting you cry on me…and for slapping whoever disrespects what’s mine.”

“What?” You gawked, red eyes wide at his words.

“I smacked the shit outta her, she’ll think twice about saying shit like that again.” He looked so nonchalant about the whole thing, a pout of sheer unconcern pulling on his lips.

You tried to look appalled at your man’s actions, letting your jaw hang low in astonishment, but it quickly dissolved, a smile breaking out and a shocked laugh bubbling forth.

“Oh my god Hugh Drysdale!!” You smacked his arm softly, giggling freely at just the thought of that blonde’s face with Ransom’s handprint on the side of it. “We gotta get out of here before she calls the cops.”

“Agreed.” He hummed, starting the engine and setting off down the road, singing away to your shared playlist.

“Fuck baby, fucking hell…”

There was a distinct schlick schlick sound coming from the ajar door of the massive house leaving a tiny part of your brain silently thankful for its size. The rest of you doesn’t give a flying fuck.

Ransom laid out on his back beneath you, face and chest flushed and his hair awry thanks to your wandering hands. His hands gripped at your hips, helping you bounce on his thick length, chasing your third orgasm of the night. Somewhere along the journey home your insecurities and jealousy fizzled into raw desire, your hands groping at Ransom while he drove. You barely made it through the front door before you jumped his bones, shoving him into the wall and swallowing his length with ease only experience would get you. Charlotte could never.

“Taking me like such a good girl—fuckkkk—yes baby squeeze my dick” Not only was he a mess physically, his brain had short-circuited after you straddled his body, ripping the belt from the loops of his pants.

“So full Rannie” you whimpered, collapsing onto your hands. Sweat dripped off your forehead and onto his body, you fucked him ferally like two people with nothing on the brain except each other — which wasn’t far from the truth.

“That’s it, good girl, gimme one more baby I know you can” Ransom urged, pushing himself into a sit and using the last of his brainpower to sink a hand between your joined bodies to rub tight circles over your puffy clit.

“She could never make you feel this good could she?��� you gripped at his locks, moaning into his open mouth. Ransom’s head shook violently in your grasp, muttering out how you were the only woman in the world that could make him feel this euphoric. Your orgasm was approaching quicker and quicker, jumping over each mental hurdle until all that was left for your brain to think of was the man filling you to the brim.

“Fuck shit m’fucking close baby, gonna fill you up again, you want that huh? Want my cum in that messy little cunt?”

His words hooked your release between their clawed fingers and hurtled it into your body. Your world went white, your body stiffening and your walls milking the man below you for all he was worth. He spilt the last of what he could offer right against your cervix, holding you tight as he shouted like a madman.

The room settled, the only sounds being your mixed breaths gasping for air.

“That was good” Ransom chuckled, pulling out of your with a hiss and flipping you over “might need to make you jealous more.”

“Don’t you dare” you warned with a glare, sealing your lips with his when he leaned down, cleaning up the mess between your legs before dealing with his own.

“I really am sorry about tonight baby, you didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that” The brunette broke the silence that had overcome you both, his fingers massaging down your spine.

“It’s alright, she got what she deserved.”

“Yes” Ransom nodded, resting his weight against your back “and you got what you did too.”

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except on this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes & Asks are always appreciated, although if you liked this fic please consider reblogging so it can reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what you read and give me motivation to write more.

Thanks for reading~

[cybersunnie]

✶ : PRIZED POSSESSION

CORIOLANUS SNOW x F!READER nsfw (18+ / MDNI), smut, piv, cannibalism metaphors

Coriolanus sunk his teeth into everything that was his. 

And you were his prized possession, but you were difficult to tame.

You considered yourself independent; Coriolanus considered you stubborn. He had to stop himself from scoffing when you insisted you didn't need him at every waking moment. You hated how he didn't give you any space. You hated how he breathed down your neck.

What a bunch of nonsense.

He deserved to know where you were at every waking moment. Who you spoke to, hung out with. You were his, were you not? That was his right. Why would you ever need to be alone? Unless you were hiding something from him. Another man—or woman—perhaps?

But Coriolanus learned to ignore his paranoid thoughts. It would get him nowhere. He knew he couldn't force it upon you. You would retaliate, stray further from his clutches. He needed to be patient. He needed to help you understand. He needed to spoon-feed you little by little until it finally stuck.

And slowly but surely, you understood. Coriolanus knew you would eventually, his sweet girl. 

His stupid, sweet girl.

It made it all the easier for him to lull you under his control. You offered your heart to him on a silver platter, asking him to lock it away in the pit of his belly where it would be safe. And he consumed that heart of yours gladly, greedily. That independence you so desperately craved no longer fulfilled you like he did. He was the only one you could trust. The only person you could confide in. You refused to leave his side like an obedient little pet. You were a part of him. You were born to be his. 

And who were you to question the intentions of your loving, doting Coryo?

Now you had nowhere to run—nowhere to hide. 

But you didn’t seem to mind that sentiment. No, especially not when Coriolanus had his cock buried deep inside of you. 

For someone so sweet, you were filthy. But he liked it. In moments like these, you were truly his. You were vulnerable. Docile. He loved how easy you were when lust coursed through your veins. He loved it when your mind was lost in a hazy blizzard, barely able to think straight. And there you were, naked and pinned to his mattress, taking him like the good girl he taught you to be. His touch was rough, fingers digging into your flesh. He held you tightly, roughly, hard enough to leave bruises because he loved you. 

Coriolanus loved you, didn’t he?

"Your pussy's so fucking wet," Coriolanus taunted, breath hot against your ear. He felt you shiver, heard you whine, and he laughed, mean and dirty. "My sweet girl—fuck, she's crying for me." 

You called out his name. A meek whimper. An unutterable prayer. He grinned at the sound of it. “Oh, poor thing,” he cooed, pecking your lips. “Can’t handle too much teasing, huh? S’okay, you’re doing so good.”

He believed he did—love you, that was. Coriolanus felt like a starved man around you. He wanted to split you open, pry his fingers through your flesh and bones, and devour you whole. The feeling was unexplainable, all-consuming. That had to be love.

It must be.

He stared into your eyes, those helpless, glassy eyes as you clung to him. What a sweet little thing you were. Your nails dug into his back, adorning his scarred skin with red lines and crescent indents, but he didn’t mind. Or, more accurately, he didn’t notice. Coriolanus was too busy admiring how your face crumbled with ecstasy every time his hips snapped forward to meet yours. The way your brows knitted together and your mouth hung open when he hit the right spot. 

You were so beautiful like this.

Mine. 

And every thrust made you hold him closer, not wanting him far.

Mine. 

You were completely his like this. 

Mine. 

“You’re mine, yeah?” Coriolanus whispered, his pupils blown wide. You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. “Tell me you’re mine. C’mon, wanna hear you say it. Wanna hear your pretty voice.” 

He hated how needy he sounded, but how could he not when your walls fluttered around his cock so deliciously.

“I’m yours,” you gasped wetly, voice weak and trembling. He tutted and gripped your chin, a signal you knew very well meant he wasn’t pleased. “I’m yours, Coryo,” you said with more conviction. “Only need you, no one else.”

He groaned, his hands moving to the back of your head. “You mean that?”

“Always.”

And, like the starved man he was, Coriolanus dipped his head down and sunk his teeth in you.

author's note: "alexa how do you write smut?" use cannibalism metaphors!

anyway, happy new year everybody!! decided to start off 2024 with... whatever this is! coryo is a sick man. HE'S DISGUSTING! i need him, actually.

[fandomhcs]

dating frank castle would include:

frank castle doesn’t do anything half assed. that includes a relationship. you may have a hell of a time actually getting him into one, but once he is he’ll never waver.

he would struggle between being the punisher and being frank, the man who loves you. though he fully understands that you can that care of yourself, he wants to keep his life as the punisher far away from you. of course its not always possible, but he wants to keep you as safe he can. rest assured, as long as he’s there nothing can touch you. he’d stop anything, give up anything, to keep you safe. 

losing maria and the kids changed him, broke him apart and forced him to scramble to gather any pieces he could. losing you now, after facing all of that loss and all that pain? no way he could handle that. 

and so he’s overprotective, he’s paranoid, he’ll check and double check the locks on your windows and doors until you drag him to bed. while the two of you don’t leave the house together too often, when you do he makes sure to keep you no more than an arm’s length away at all times.

his paranoia is the biggest source of fights in your relationship. he isn’t one for conflict, despite being the punsiher and all. fighting with you is different, and he doesn’t like it when it happens. often times you’ll have it out with each other only for him to go quiet, swallow his pride and take some time to calm down before he can come talk out the problem with you.

but outside of the danger, when things are quiet and peaceful between the two of you there is no sweeter man than frank castle. he’s head over heels for you, it’s easy to see. in his eyes you are everything he never thought he’d have again. sure, he may not have the whole wife, kids, white fence type of life with you. he may never be ready for that, but being with you feels like coming home. it scares him how good it feels to have a place, a person, he can call home again.

movies nights and television marathons are a must. the second you are both home for the night he’ll wrap you up in his arms and drag you to the couch for cuddles. though he isn’t too big on pda, in the privacy of your home he just can’t help himself. 

he lives for the small touches. holding your hand, forehead kisses, fingers grazing your shoulders as he passes by you. its a reminder, every time he feels your skin under his fingertips. a reminder that you are there, with him, safe and sound and alive.

you make him smile. force him to watch stupid comedies or over dramatic soap operas that you both get waaayy too invested in. he makes you try your coffee black, does the dishes for you before you get up in the mornings, keeps you trapped in his arms whenever you try to get up for food. 

he cooks for you sometimes. a lovely surprise that comes out of nowhere. the big bad punisher? popping out with restaurant quality meals all because you’d had a shitty day at work and needed a pick-me-up? that’s art. he doesn’t cook often, but when he does it is magical.

though as far as your cooking, he’ll eat literally anything. you could burn it to coal and he’ll eat it with a smile. he might make fun of you for it, but you’ll see him finish his plate no matter what. he’s a dork like that.

you both whisper your secrets underneath warm sheets with one of his hands tapping a chaotic rhythm on your shoulder and the other gripping your fingers tight. he tells you their names. maria. lisa. frank jr. he tells you of their laughter, their toys, their lives. and he tells you of their deaths, tears spilling from his eyes as he breaks into your arms. your heart breaks with him, but being able to share them with someone who loves him, and by extension loves and respects them too, is such a weight off his shoulders.

they’re ghosts, but not the kind that haunt. the kind that leave your chest aching but also a soft smile on your face. they don’t plague him anymore, he is finally able to think of them without his world going dark. they’ll always be in his heart, he’ll never allow himself to forget them, but you help him realize that he can have happiness once again. 

life is perfectly boring with frank, something he forgot just how much he’d missed. you bring peace into his life, even though he never wanted you to. but he’ll be forever grateful that you did. this man will love you with a passion and an intensity that you’ll find nowhere else.

that is, if you can handle his snoring.

[cabinette]

A Chilshi Selkie AU I have been thinking about for a while. (by A While i mean like 3 hours)

assorted thoughts below ! (QUITE unorganised lol)

I like to think chilchucks already formed something of a surface life. and he's so so enthralled by things like beer and alcohol and indulgence but he has to deny himself of so many things because he's utterly convinced that no one will look at him the same if he reveals he's a selkie. he keeps a lock on his heart because. he LITERALLY has such an insane secret to keep

people think that he's just an ass who doesnt like talking about himself(or a closeted queer of some kind but you didnt hear that from me ;)) and it doesnt matter if he always leaves first when at the bar. it doesn't matter that he never seems to be anywhere but the beach. it doesn't matter because he's never going to tell you and you're never going to believe him

he's left behind the life he could have possibly lived in the ocean among his friends, his family, he's still in contact with them but…. He's more in touch with his facade than his selkie form. yknow ?

and now he's got this stupid man who found out everything he was trying to hide on, what, a silly little fishing trip? His life is going to be ruined ! (he's eating nice hot fish soup and feeling the warmth in his bones. he's experiencing the understanding and acceptance of a stranger. he can't paint himself as a bad person because somehow they already know he's just a sad, lonely selkie seeking companionship far above the shallows. and how his life is going to be "ruined" because this mackrel soup tastes so good and he doesn't know how he's going to hold himself back if this is how good it can be.)

Senshi's just a guy who goes fishing sometimes :-) And he's a struggler bcause he doesnt usually socialise- people joke about him being an ocean man, yknow? Never really leaves the sea, and so he's become sort of… isolated from the people he used to know. And you know, he has his reasonings. Incidents concerning his friends that happened far too long ago and guilt that spreads him too thin, but he still loves the sea. He still loves her for all her storms and her peace and her cruelty and her kindness. When you're a lonely man there's no better place to hide than the wide blue, you know ? So what happens when he meets someone who's so intrinsically connected to the sea, who's whole life is based around the sea?

Chilchuck knows the sea. knows how dangerous it can be and how to manoeuvre it. He doesn't necessarily love it but he's very in tune with it, he knows where the current is strongest and that you'll be swept away if you're not careful, but Senshi just loves the sea because... it's the sea. he helps fish that are stuck in rocks and he thinks. oh yeah. the sea is my friend. it may have caused him pain but he knows his way around it too. Only half-accepting the sad fact that the sea isn't yknow, a person but still a very much massive thing, a force to be reckoned with, and as he learns more about Chilchuck he too learns more about the sea, and having to sort of fully accept that he's never going to know it as a friend, or an acquaintance. His love for the ocean can never be staved but it can also. never be reciprocated.

guh. but even if the sea isnt his friend he can still feel the connections he makes. he can still learn and grow and and and and and anwlihsbdjk23wbearkudwhgjA#BEUKFJHGUKAEFH theres something THERE I CANT WORD IT!!! BIUT ITS THERE

[storytowrite]

|Crossing the line| ~ Lee Felix

----------

Paring: Lee Felix x reader

Genre: little angsry but smut

Word count: 5675

Warnings: 18+; nonprotection; blood

----------

You and Felix have always had your secrets, little secrets that required a bond between you. You knew things about each other that even your closest ones had no idea about. However, this one secret that you hid from him seemed too big to reveal. You were friends since the sandbox, but for some time Felix began to awaken feelings in you that you feared the most. You weren't sure if it was just a momentary infatuation or maybe something deeper. 

 Finally, the day of your birthday came, you loved celebrating it, because Felix always invited you to your secret, charming place that only you knew about and prepared a handmade cake. It was the same today, in the morning you got an invitation from Felix. You quickly went to get ready, put on your favorite white, airy dress and did light make-up. This was the day when you were going to confess your feelings to Felix, you couldn't keep it to yourself anymore. When you were ready, you went to the lake in the middle of the forest, covered by huge willows. Every step along the sandy path brought back waves of childhood memories. This place was your shelter from the world, a refuge where you could be yourself, and all your worries would disappear.  

When you got there, your heart was beating like crazy with excitement. You uncovered the lush willow leaves with your hand and your heart froze when, apart from Felix, you saw another person next to him. It was a beautiful, petite girl with light hair waving in the wind and eyes shining like sapphires. Her smile was wide and full of warmth.  

"Happy birthday Y/n. I'm so glad we can spend this special day together again." Felix said, approaching you, with a big smile on his face, a smile that was reserved only for you and for special occasions.  

You managed to force a fake smile on your face, although deep down you were hiding a huge disappointment. The unknown girl approached Felix and intertwined their fingers together. You couldn't hide the fact that you noticed it right away and knew what was coming.  

"Oh Y/n I'm sorry it's so sudden, but I wanted you to meet as soon as possible. This is Eva, my girlfriend."  

His words were like a punch to the heart for you. You felt like your heart was breaking into millions of pieces. At first, you were frozen, you couldn't gather your thoughts. However, when the whole situation hit you, you couldn't hold back your tears. 

 "How could you...?" Your voice was shaking, and tears were running down your cheeks, leaving a wet trail behind them.  

"Y/n, what's wrong? I hoped you'd be happy." Felix looked at you confused.  "This was our place." You whispered, unable to bear the pain any longer. "Only ours."  

Before Felix could answer anything, you turned around and started running forward, tears running faster and faster down your cheeks. 

 "Y/n wait!" Felix called after you, but you couldn't, didn't want to hear.

You ran through the forest until your legs started to hurt and your lungs burned from the effort. Finally, you stopped, hoping that Felix had run after you and would hug you, apologize and explain everything. You stood there looking at the exit from the forest, your heart pounding. You waited with hope, but time flew by and Felix didn't come. With each passing moment, hope diminished until it finally disappeared completely when you realized that the boy wouldn't show up. Desperate and broken, you decided to go home.

Walking through the crowded streets, you felt your heart bleeding. You wondered if you hadn't waited too long to confess your feelings to Felix and now you wouldn't have a chance. You wondered if you would be able to forget about him, if you would learn to live with the thought that Felix wouldn't be yours, or maybe it would completely destroy you.

When you reached your apartment, you locked yourself in your room, threw yourself on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Thoughts were still swirling in your head, and your heart ached like never before. You were angry at yourself, you were angry at Felix, and you were angry at this new girl.

Since you got home, your phone had been ringing non-stop, but you didn't have the strength or desire to answer it at this moment. You knew it was your friends calling you to wish you a happy birthday. Even though it was your birthday, during which Felix did everything to make you feel special, this time you felt lonelier than ever.

Finally, after hours spent crying and the constantly ringing phone, you decided to answer it when you noticed Binnie's name on the screen. His cheerful voice sounded through the receiver, but as soon as he heard your tears, he immediately stopped joking.

"Y/n what's going on?" He asked worriedly.

"Nothing, just...it doesn't matter." You said, choking on your tears.

"Don't worry. I'm on my way to your place, so you can complain to me." Changbin replied, not waiting for your protests.

Literally after a few minutes you heard the doorbell. You slowly dragged yourself out of bed and walked up to the door. As it turned out, Changbin and Chan were standing in front of the door, whom you reluctantly let in. The sight of your tearful and swollen face made the boys freeze.

"What happened, our sun?" Chan asked, sitting down next to you on the couch and taking your hand in his.

You took a deep breath and told them about Felix and his girlfriend, about how he took her to your special place. Both of them were surprised by your words, they had no idea that Felix had a girlfriend.

"Lix didn't say anything about any girl, and we've never seen him with any other girl than you." Changbin said, looking at Chan in disbelief.

"We know Felix very well, and you know him very well too, and you know that he wouldn't do anything to hurt you. I think there's something more here, something none of us know about." Chan added, stroking your hand. Both boys did their best to comfort you and not let you think about the whole situation. You were in their arms the whole time, which gave you an extra sense of security and warmth that you needed so much right now. After long talks, when they were sure that you were already in a better mental state, they said goodbye to you and went back to their place.

You closed the door behind them and all the negative feelings you didn't want to show them came back. You turned towards the mirror that hung by the door and noticed the pendant that Felix had given you long ago as a symbol of your eternal friendship around your neck. You looked at it for a moment and then in a surge of emotion, you ripped it off your neck, bursting into even more tears.

For the rest of the day and the whole night you cried, you couldn't get the image of that girl intertwining her arms with Felix out of your head. Finally, flooded with tears, you cry yourself to sleep, holding the broken pendant in your hand, which has now lost its importance to you.

You never liked drama, but after the last action with Felix you decided to cut yourself off from the world for a while and organize your thoughts. Although you knew that such a withdrawal was not good for you, you had no other choice. Felix called you several times, but every time you rejected his calls. You also saw his messages in which he asked you to meet up, but you didn't answer them. You were hurt by what he did and you needed time to heal your wounds.

Finally, on his birthday, Minho invited all his friends to a restaurant. You really didn't want to go because you knew Felix would be there too, but your conscience wouldn't let you ignore the invitation. You dressed nicely, femininely, slightly sexy and went to the restaurant.

When you entered, you saw Felix with his new girlfriend. Your heart beat faster, and the old wounds started bleeding again. However, you decided not to make a scene and put on a happy mask. You greeted everyone gathered, skillfully avoiding Felix and Eva, with whom you didn't even want to exchange a word.

Felix was of course surprised by your cold attitude. He was sad, but he didn't want to show it.

"Hi Y/n, I wrote and called you but you didn't answer. Did something happen?" Felix asked worriedly, approaching you.

You just rolled your eyes and joined Seungmin and Hyunjin's conversation. You did everything you could to have the best time at Minho's birthday. You laughed, talked to others, but you could still feel Felix's eyes on you, who wasn't the smiling, cheerful boy he always was today.

After the conversations, everyone decided to sit down to eat, which was just arriving at the table. Unfortunately for you, the only empty seat that was left was opposite Felix and Eve. You reluctantly took your seat and you all started eating. Unfortunately for you, when you raised your head, you made eye contact with Eva. Seeing your look, the girl smiled maliciously and without taking her eyes off you, as if she was watching your reaction, she kissed Felix.

Everyone at the table, including Felix, was shocked by what had just happened. You felt like someone had ripped your heart out of your chest, and tears quickly welled up in your eyes. Not wanting to give Eva the satisfaction, you ran out of the restaurant before tears could run down your cheeks. Han immediately followed you. He found you on a bench next to the restaurant. You were curled up in a ball and crying, shaking with the overwhelming emotions that were boiling in your heart.

"What happened Y/n?" He asked gently, sitting down next to you.

"Felix..." You started, choking on your tears. "I love him, Han. I've loved him for a long time, but he found someone else. She...she did it on purpose to hurt me."

Han put his arm around you, rubbing small circles on your shoulder.

"I don't know what to say Y/n. Felix surprised us all, and Eva came out of nowhere. We've never heard of her or seen her before. The only thing I'm sure of is that Felix definitely cares about you. He doesn't stop talking about you when he's with us. I have a feeling that Eva is just a passing infatuation that will disappear quickly. You don't have to worry, let alone waste the best moment of your life because of him." His words gave you some comfort, you needed just that kind of support. "Now, chin up and let's go back to the restaurant to have some more fun." He wiped your tears and helped you get up from the bench.

In better spirits, you went back to the restaurant where everyone was waiting for you. The first thing you noticed was that Eva wasn't at the table. Felix, seeing you, jumped up from his chair and approached you, holding out his hand.

"Y/N, we need to talk." He started, but you pushed his hand away and went to the bathroom without a word.

You locked yourself in the stall, trying to calm down a bit. You leaned against the stall door, trying to take a deep breath. You knew you would have to deal with all this, but you needed a moment to gather your strength.

However, through the thin door you heard a phone call that caught your attention. Felix's girlfriend's voice was clearly audible. Apparently Eva didn't realize that you were right next to her.

"No, honey, don't worry. I have him wrapped around my finger. He's so naive." She said with an ironic smile. "I'm only with Felix for the money, that's obvious. The only thing that bothers me is his friend. She's so stupid and Felix keeps talking about her. I'm sick of her and I have to get rid of her somehow. "

You froze, holding your breath, not wanting to reveal that you were in the cabin. Your heart was pounding with anger.

"Yeah, of course no one guesses. It's only a matter of time before I get what I want and then I disappear." Eva continued.

Fury raged inside you. When the conversation ended, you ran out of the bathroom, unable to contain your anger. Eva stood in front of you with her phone in her hand, surprised by your sudden appearance.

"You bitch, what did you just say!?" You screamed, feeling the rage filling you from the inside. "Who do you think you are to talk about Felix like that!?"

Eva smiled maliciously "And what are you jealous of that I have him all to myself and you can only look? "

You couldn't stand her contempt any longer. You threw yourself at her, pulling her arms and hair. Eva defended herself, screaming and pulling you. Your struggle led you back to the restaurant, where everyone was shocked to see you in such situation.

The boys, including Felix, immediately jumped up from their chairs and tried to calm the whole situation down.

"Stop it!" Felix shouted, pushing you away from Eva.

Unfortunately, you lost your balance and hit your head on the sharp edge of the table. The pain was sudden and piercing. You felt warm blood running down your temple. Lix paled, seeing what had happened. He wanted to go over to help you, but Eva stopped him, holding his arm.

"I'm so scared Lix, she threw herself at me. She's probably jealous." Eva made herself the victim.

"Of course it's all my fault. Let your little lady tell you that she's using you for your money." Your words shocked everyone.

“Don't listen to her, honey, she wants to divide us.” Eva pulled his gaze away from you.

You looked at Lix, expecting him to break down, to take your side. But he hesitated, letting Eva dictate the moves. Disappointed and hurt, you gathered your strength to get up.

“Let him believe his girl, not his best friend.” You left through clenched teeth, looking him straight in the eye.

You turned around and headed towards the door, ignoring the pain and blood that was flooding your eye. However, after taking a few steps, you felt dizzy and almost fell to the ground, but at the last moment Jeongin caught you and sat you down on the couch.

Immediately, 7 of your friends gathered around you. The only thing missing was Felix, whom you noticed Eva drag out of the restaurant, although he really wanted to check on you. You were afraid that you had lost not only your friend but also your faith in what connected you.

You were in tatters for a few days. Every morning you wake up slowly, and you, with heavy eyelids and aversion to the world, lay in your bed, not having the strength to even do the simplest things. A barely noticeable light fell through the window, which barely cut through the thick curtains, reminding you of the existence of the outside world, which you wanted nothing to do with. If it weren't for Minho and Chan's home-cooked meals that the boys brought, you probably wouldn't eat anything. Every day someone else visited you to check on you, but none of these meetings brought you relief.

On the third day, Hyunjin came, bringing news that shook you to the core. He looked at you with sympathy, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"He broke up with Eva." He said quietly. "He caught her cheating on him and he feels really bad that he didn't believe you earlier. He really wants to apologize to you."

These words brought you some relief, because you finally didn't have to worry about that horrible girl, but at the same time you felt anger and disappointment. You didn't want to see Felix. Not after what he did to you.

For the next four days you didn't answer his phone, and even when he came to your door to apologize, you didn't open it. You pretended you weren't there, hiding under the blanket, listening to his pleading words.

"Please, open the door. Let's talk for at least 5 minutes. I beg you, I need to see your face. I'm sorry, I really am. I realized how much I hurt you. Please, give me a chance to fix this. You're so fucking important to me and I can't stand the thought of losing you." His voice trembled and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, but you couldn't bring yourself to let him in. There was turmoil in your heart, a mixture of anger, regret and sadness.

One day, when Seungmin came to your place with dinner, he brought Felix's brownie, which he forbade anyone from touching because it was for you.

"He made it especially for you." Seungmin said, placing the plate on the kitchen table. "He almost killed us when we tried to even try a piece."

Unable to stop yourself, you tasted a piece of cake, which immediately melted in your mouth. Your taste buds were going crazy from the strong taste of chocolate. The taste was amazing as always, and your pleasant memories of making brownies with Felix came back. Even for a split second, a smile found its way to yours.

The whole week, the boys had been telling you something about how much this whole situation had affected Felix, but you pretended not to listen. You knew it had affected you too. It wasn't until the seventh day that Han came. His face was serious, his eyes full of concern.

"Felix looks awful." He said, sitting down across from you. "We're really worried about him. We're afraid he'll do something to himself. He knows he screwed up completely, but he wants to fix it and begs for another chance."

His words broke through your wall of indifference. Your heart clenched with pain at the thought of Felix doing something to himself. Despite everything, you still cared about him.

"What do I do, Han?" You asked, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. "That idiot could really do something to himself. Fuck, Han, why is it so hard?"

“I know Y/n that it's not easy, but he's really hurting. He knows that there's a small chance that you'll forgive him, but agree to meet with him. At least for 5 minutes.” Han replied quietly.

After much persuasion and internal struggle, you agreed. As soon as Han left, you pulled out your phone and opened a chat with Felix. You looked at the keyboard for a long time before you decided to write.

“Let's meet at my place tomorrow evening.” That's all you managed to write, that's all you could think of.

You spent the night in suspense, unable to sleep, thinking about what to say, how to behave when you meet again.

The next day, Felix came to you, just like you told him. When you opened the door, you saw a gigantic bouquet of a hundred roses and a box of chocolates. Only then did you notice Felix, who didn't look too good. His skin was pale, and there were dark bags under his eyes. Without a word, he fell to his knees and began begging for forgiveness.

“I'm sorry, I'm an idiot.” His voice trembled and his eyes filled with tears. “I made the biggest mistake of my life. I can't lose you, you're the most important person in the world to me. I can't stand being without you, I'd rather die than think that you won't be with me.”

His words hit you straight in the heart. You felt a wave of emotions go through your body - anger, sadness, longing, but most of all love. You knelt down next to him, your hands gently touching his face, and your thumbs wiping away his tears.

“Felix... “ You started quietly, looking deep into his eyes. “I can't imagine life without you either.”

His eyes lit up, as if he had finally found hope.

“Thank you.” He whispered, taking your hands. “I promise I'll never let you down again.”

You hugged him tightly, feeling his warmth fill your heart. For a moment you stayed silent, savoring the closeness that both of you missed so much. Finally, you pulled away from each other and sat down on the couch. You immediately started talking to each other about everything and nothing. It wasn't until a few hours later that Felix dropped the subject of the conversation.

"Maybe we should order something to eat?" Felix suggested.

"Yeah, that's a good idea." You agreed. "And maybe some alcohol?"

Felix smiled broadly, nodding to your idea.

"Yeah, we definitely need alcohol."

You ordered your favorite food and a lot of alcohol, which disappeared pretty quickly. With each next glass, you laughed louder and louder, forgetting for a moment about the problems that were tormenting you. You felt the bond between you, which was so strong before, rekindled.

"Do you remember the first time we met after moving in at that coffee shop on the corner?" Felix asked, his eyes shining with memories.

"How could I forget?" You replied with a smile. "You were so clumsy that you spilled coffee on my new coat."

“And instead of getting mad, you started laughing.” He added. “That’s when I knew you were special.”

You talked for a long time, immersing yourself in memories and plans for the future. The alcohol made the conversation more open, but the topic of Eva still remained untouched.

"Felix..." You started, interrupting your laughter. "We need to talk about Eva."

The silence that fell was thick and heavy. Felix lowered his gaze, and his face became sad again.

"I know." He said quietly. "But not tonight, please. Give me one more night to enjoy you without this burden."

You realized that you both needed this moment of peace. You hugged him tightly, and he hugged you back. You stayed like that for a moment, when your heart started beating faster. You don't know if it was because of the alcohol or what, but you felt a huge urge to get even closer to him.

You raised your gaze and looked at his sweet lips, his freckles emphasizing his cheekbones, his shiny eyes and his lips again. You unconsciously bit your lips and lifted yourself up on your hands. Before you knew it, you connected your lips in a short kiss. However, as quickly as you connected them, you separated them.

“Omg… I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me… No…” However, Felix didn't let you finish and connected your lips again, but this time the kiss was more passionate.

All your deeply hidden emotions exploded at that moment. You threw your arms around his neck and completely surrendered to the kisses. Every touch was a desperate cry, every moment full of deep longing. Your hands wandered over your bodies, looking for confirmation that it was all real, that what you felt was not just a dream.

Felix buried his fingers in your hair, pulling you even closer. You sat astride him, eliminating unnecessary distance. The boy kissed you passionately, as if every second was the last. His lips were hot, and his breathing heavy, as your kisses became more and more intense, deeper. You responded with equal passion, forgetting about everything except this moment.

Time ceased to exist, the world outside of you disappeared. There were only you, your desire, your love, which now exploded with the force of a hurricane. The kisses were wild and untamed, full of feelings accumulated over the years. Your bodies trembled, your hearts beat in one, feverish rhythm.

When you finally broke away from each other, you were both out of breath, your faces burning. In Felix's eyes you saw the reflection of your own emotions - love, desire, and something more, something that made her heart beat even faster.

Felix grabbed your buttocks and lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and started placing small kisses on his neck. Lix couldn't control himself and before he could reach the bedroom, he leaned your back against the wall in the hallway. Now he took the initiative and slid your shirt off your shoulder, revealing your collarbone.

His lips quickly found their way to your bare skin, leaving more and more red marks on it. Every movement of his gave you great pleasure, a pleasure you had never felt before. You felt yourself slowly getting wet, and arousal was starting to replace other emotions. You wanted him, you wanted closeness.

"Felix..." You whispered straight into his ear, biting his earlobe.

Felix knew perfectly well what you meant. You didn't have to say anything, your movements said everything. Felix, connecting your lips again in a French kiss, led you to the bedroom, where he gently laid you on the bed. You watched him carefully as he slowly took off his shirt, and then his pants, leaving only in his boxers. A visible bulge was visible through his panties.

Unable to hide fact that you enjoy what you were seeing, you bit your lip, you felt a wave of heat flooding your body, creating a raspberry blush on your face. You also took off your shirt and pants, also remaining in only your underwear. You were glad you wore a set this time.

Seeing your breasts surrounded by the thin material of your bra, he smiled gently and immediately climbed onto the bed as well. His knee was between your legs, gently pressing on your crotch. The first moan of pleasure escaped your lips, which turned Felix on even more.

The boy leaned over you and slowly placed kisses on your body, starting from your neck and going lower and lower. Wet traces trailed down your breasts, all the way to the elastic of your thong. Goosebumps ran through your body when you felt his tongue return under your panties. However, it was only when his mouth was on your thighs that you felt that you were about to go crazy, you needed him inside you.

You threw your arms around his neck again and pulled him closer to you.

"More..." You whispered, demanding closeness.

Felix immediately went into action and with one hand unfastened your bra. Your breasts immediately fell out of it, revealing your erect nipples. A moment later you were also stripped of your panties. Felix also pulled down his boxers, revealing his firmly erect penis. The sight of his penis made you lick your lips unconsciously and throw yourself at him.

Now you towered over him, but it didn't bother him, on the contrary, he directed you towards himself, so that now you were sitting astride him. His hard penis was under your pussy. Feeling his throbbing penis, you started moving your hips, perfectly taking advantage of how wet you were at that moment. His penis slid perfectly between your folds, giving you a huge amount of pleasure. You could hardly stop yourself from screaming out loud.

Your head was going crazy with emotions, you were in a trance, and your heart was pounding like crazy.

"Y/n do you have a condom?" He asked in his low voice.

However, you nodded your head. You haven't had a boyfriend for so long that you didn't need condoms. The corner of Felix's mouth lifted.

"Do you want to try without protection?" You sensed hope in his voice that you would agree.

You were surprised by his proposal, but you were so excited that you didn't want to stop now and you agreed. Felix, having your permission, immediately directed his penis to your hole and lifted his hips, slid into you. He immediately hit your sweet spot, which sent pleasant shivers through your body.

You matched your pace of movement with your heavy breaths. His penis entered and exited you, teasing your walls. Your eyes rolled back from the amount of pleasure that filled your body. The feeling of it filling up more and more flooded your body. You wanted more and more.

You sped up your movements, feeling that you were about to come and you guessed that Felix must feel the same way too, because he also started moving his hips, going even deeper.

“Y/n I'm about to come.” He grabbed your hips, stopping your movements.

“Cum inside. I'm so close.” You said, letting yourself get carried away by the emotions.

Felix didn't hesitate again and sped up his movements, you sped up yours as well and you moved at an equal pace, giving you both immense pleasure. A few movements later you felt a wave of pleasure flood your body. You shook and tensed with a force you had never experienced before. Orgasm flooded your entire body, you dug your fingers into his chest, trying to control your body.

“Y/n your walls are closing in on me. Ugh…Y/n.” That was all he managed to say before he shot inside you.

You felt the warm liquid filling you from the inside. The boy held you tightly so that you wouldn’t get up from him until he finished his wonderful orgasm. Only after a moment, when the power of your fulfillment decreased a bit, did you collapse on him, exhausted. He was also breathing loudly, barely catching his breath. You stayed like that for a while before Lix pulled out of you, and you felt his cum flowing out of you.

“That was wonderful Y/n.” The boy said, kissing you tenderly on the forehead.

You smiled at the boy and snuggled tightly into his chest. You lay there for a while longer, cuddling, when sleepiness finally hit you. You decided to take a bath and tidied up the bed, so that you could go to dreamland together.

The morning light gently poured through the curtains, putting warm reflections on your intertwined hands. The awakening was gentle, as if reality wanted to give you a moment to get used to your new state. Your heart was beating calmly but intensely, as if every cell in your body was repeating one word: love. Felix lay next to you, his face relaxed, as if the previous night had washed away all his worries. You looked at him for a long moment, memorizing every feature, every detail, as if you had never had the opportunity to look at him like this before. It was a feeling full of relief, but also uncertainty. Wasn't what happened last night just a dream?

You carefully pulled away so as not to disturb his sleep, but Felix stirred and opened his eyes. Your gazes met - his warm, brown eyes were full of tenderness you hadn't noticed before.

"Hello." He whispered, and you sensed uncertainty in his voice, as if he still didn't quite believe you were here.

"Hello...Felix I have to tell you something...I love you." You pulled yourself together as quickly as possible, wanting to throw those words out.

Felix looked at you intensely, as if he wanted to pick out every note of truth from your confession.

"I love you too." He said quietly. "And for a long time."

Your heart began to beat faster. What you heard sounded like a dream come true, but at the same time it reminded you of the pain you had gone through.

"Why didn't you say anything?" You asked, trying to understand his silence.

Felix sighed deeply, as if he was preparing for a difficult confession.

"I was afraid... I was afraid that if I confessed my feelings to you, everything we had would be ruined. Our friendship was everything to me, and the risk of losing it... was too great. That's why... I found myself a girlfriend to forget about you. But... it didn't work. I couldn't stop thinking about you, not even for a moment."

You felt a pang in your heart at the mention of Eva. You remembered how Felix had distanced himself from you, and his relationship with her had felt like a sudden blow that you were supposed to survive alone.

"Eva manipulated me." He admitted, his voice quiet and full of regret. "I was an idiot to believe her. She made me into a toy, and I... I was too blinded to notice. But... there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of you, that I don't regret letting her affect me like that."

You looked at him for a moment, feeling a mixture of anger and sympathy.

“Indeed, you were an idiot.” You finally said, and Felix winced slightly. “But... you were my idiot.” A spark of hope appeared in his eyes.

“And now?” he asked carefully, as if every word could reawaken old wounds. “Will you be... my girlfriend now?”

You thought for a moment, but you knew that your heart had already made up its mind.

“Yes, Felix. I want to be your girlfriend.” The smile that appeared on his face was like the rising sun after a long, stormy night. He took your hand and squeezed it gently, as if to reassure himself that this was all real.

“We’ll start over.” He said in a confident voice. “I’ll do anything to rebuild what was between us. You deserve to be happy, and I want to be the one to make you happy.”

You looked at him, feeling the weight of past mistakes starting to lift. You were on the threshold of a new stage, ready to experience each day together. What was broken began to heal, and your relationship had the chance to become stronger than ever before.

Masterlist

[mothwingwritings]

Hrnnnngh because the whole Yujiro stepdad mindset will never leave me, I keep getting possessed with this thought: What if Baki and Jack had misguided feelings for their little step sis just like their father does???

(Warning for stepcest and noncon mentions, proceed w/caution)

Baki would be in deep denial over it. His feelings over you are natural. He just wants to protect you. That’s why he fantasizes and plots about luring you over and caging you in in his underground training room. He knows firsthand how threatening the outside world is, how much danger lurks around each corner, and now that Yujiro is seeking you out specifically, that just makes everything THAT much more dangerous.

You’re so pretty and kind, trusting of people even when they don’t deserve it. He was an absolute idiot for not seeing the dangers that put you in earlier. Living with him you would be safe and cared for, gluing himself to your side to personally assure that. He could barely contain himself when he thought of you nestled in his arms each night, snuggling close, so incredibly thankful to have such a loving and strong brother to protect you. With how much you revere and care for him, surely you’d have no objections to his hands roaming your body, or his lips stealing a kiss as a small show of thanks. You’re so sweet and he loves you so much that all he wants to do is give that affection back to you tenfold, even if you struggle to accept it.

Jack is much more cognizant that his feelings towards you are abnormal, but he warps it in his head to fool himself into believing that his intentions towards you are just that of a loving (albeit overprotective) older brother. Though not by blood, you are still his little sister. It’s natural for you look to him for protection and guidance, and truly that is all he is trying to provide. And as your elder brother he knows best, so you really shouldn’t be questioning just how much he hovers and inserts himself into your personal affairs. How else would you have known that that guy you were crushing on was a complete asshole, or those friends of yours were talking about you behind your back? No need to hurt yourself further by looking into his claims, just believe what your big brother says. He would never betray you like that.

He loves you and would never want to cause you intentional harm or discomfort… But when he thinks of another man touching you, holding you, kissing you, fucking you it sends him into a spiraling rage of all consuming jealousy. No one loves you like he does, no one can protect and provide for you like he can, and he’ll be damned if he lets someone else try and take you from him. The world isn’t deserving of the light you bring to it, and he’ll do whatever it takes to lock you away from the cruelties of the world, even if that makes him an even crueler person in the process.

And when Baki and Jack find out what Yujiro had done to you, how he had staked his claim and had his way with you while they remained none the wiser… Enraged doesn’t even cover it. How DARE he assault you, their precious and perfect little sister? How dare he ravage you, rip you apart in a torrent of carnal desire, violating you and forcing you to the brink of unwanted pleasure… It made their heads spin, their skin crawl.

There was no doubt that the sins their father had committed against you made them furious, delirious with hatred over how he had hurt you. But more than anything the distress they felt stemmed from the single sickening belief they both shared-that instead of Yujiro that night forcing himself inside you, fucking you to oblivion, it should have been them.

[rotten-pomegranate]

Good morning 🌞, since requests are open, can I please get head cannon ask for how the adult trio with feitan, shalnark and phinks would react if reader successfully escaped them for years. Please I want reader to win just once 😭🙏🏾

Yes you can 💪🏻

I wasn’t sure if they were supposed to catch you in the end but I made like that

Warnings: mentions of torture, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of rape

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Feitan

Feitans gonna be pissed and offended that you have so little respect for him you escaped and when he finds you it’s hell

you should have killed yourself when you got away because the things he’s gonna do to you and Any friends you made along the way will make death seem like the better option by a lot

You don’t get any privileges your always chained up and you only get enough food and water to survive

He was being nice before, holding himself back, but not anymore now he does anything and everything he wants

Shalnark

He’s gonna be sad he knows he wasn’t the best but was he that bad?

He’s gonna track you down eventually, probably one of the quickest to find you, I’m talking three years or so

When he finds you he just mocks you, like you really thought he wouldn’t find you how cute

He’s gonna stick you with antenna a lot more often to make you do stuff you would never willingly do and he’s gonna make sure you remember every bit of it

Phinks

He’s heartbroken, you didn’t love him? Sure he kidnapped you but he was so nice, he got you gifts, fed you, never forced you to do anything and he let you do whatever you wanted in the fairly big house (he’s a but Delusional)

He’s a close second to shalnark when it comes to finding you in sense of time give or take about three and a half years

When he does find you he’s not gonna be as nice as he was before, your not gonna get sweet little gifts or the privilege to go around the house freely and he’s not gonna brush off your attitude anymore, from now on your getting locked away when you give him any sass

Chrollo

even though he tried his hardest to prevent it He knew it would happen eventually, he let his guard slip gave you to much freedom

It’s gonna take him about five years to find you because he has to focus on other stuff such as the troupe

When he gets you back your never gonna see the light of day again, your locked I and chained In his basement from now on and while it’s a nice basement with carpeted floors, a nice bathroom and a big bed with lots of fluffy blankets that he often joins you in your only there for his pleasure now

He regularly pins you down and forces you to do stuff that he didn’t make you do before whispering how it Could be different the whole time

Illumi

Illumi is savage, has every person in the zoldyck manor out looking for you and that intensity doesn’t go down if anything it gets worse the longer it takes to find you

It’ll take him about four years to find you and when he does your in for it

First he’s gonna beat you black and blue, he’s gonna break both you legs in the process and that’s the only thing you’ll be allowed to see a doctor about

He’s gonna try and get you pregnant as soon as he can and if you where kicking and screaming before he would have stopped but not anymore now your getting tied to the bed frame and having a gag in your mouth

Hisoka

He’s the calmest out of all of them, he knew it would happen, he’s not happy about it but he’s not a total mess like some of these guys

It’s not his top priority to find you but it is up there, so it’s gonna take him about seven years to find you

When he finds you your getting the beating of a life time, I’m talking broken ribs, and kicked out teeth, he will pay machi to come fix you up but he might do it again if you annoy him

He didn’t hit you before but he does now, oh you dropped a glass worth ten bucks? Your getting smacked up side the head

And lastly from now on when you sleep it’s on the cold ground with a chain leash attached to his bed frame around your neck no more comfortable pillows

©rotten-pomegranate- All rights reserved, don’t steal, translate, copy, plagiarize, claim my work as your own or post it on other platforms.

[syluscore]

I HAVE A REQUEST PLEASEE MAKE ONE WHERE LEON AND READER ARE ENEMIES TO LOVERS AND HAVE A SIMILAR SCENE WHERE LEON AND MARIA ARE FIGHTING IN DEATH ISLAND. I HOPE IT MAKES SENSE.

PLEASE YOU CAN IGNORE THIS IF YOU DONT WANT TO DO IT BUT PLEASEE IM BEGGING YOUUU

Demolition Lovers

~DI! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Leon and beloved Reader are our demolition lovers. Make sure you give that song by MCR a listen. I was worried about this one, but I fucking looooved writing it.

Word count: 2138

Content warnings: the girlies are fighting-physically and vocally, traumatized reader, villain reader, talk of death, attempted murder, knives, blood, strangling, choking, crying, screaming, angst, smut, sexual content, kissing, p in v sex, reader is riding, creampie, unprotected sex

!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!

“Do you always have to get in the fucking way of everything, Kennedy?”

Leon scoffs at your remark. “What am I supposed to do? Let you end the world for some personal vendetta? Is that it?”

You laugh as you step further into the giant lab, having caught Leon meddling in your plans again. The man never fucking stops, does he? He’s been in your business, getting his hands dirty with your mess for years now.

It’s funny how much he still tries to protect you, keeping your treacherous actions a secret, regardless of how many times you come back to attempt the same thing. Somehow still believing there’s a good person inside of you, perhaps a person who could still empathize with him. Maybe if you coped with the trauma, your need for revenge would subside. You’re tired of his wishy-washy bullshit.

You’ll never be satisfied until the whole world knows your pain. Knows what it feels like to lose control of yourself no matter how hard you try to fight it. To watch the world from your own fucking eyes and being locked away somewhere inside your own head. A mere spectator as your hands are controlled by something else entirely.

Every last person left on the planet after everything is said and done will know what it feels like to watch your own hands kill the people you love while there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. 

You shake your head at him. “I’m sorry I have to kill you. It’s nothing personal, I promise.”

“I wish you’d been more creative. You guys always try to end the world. It’s getting repetitive if I’m being honest.”

You laugh loudly, your hand quickly grabbing the knife strapped to your leg and tossing it at the man’s forehead.

Your distraction is not nearly enough to stop Leon from dodging the hit.

He throws himself out of the way of your flying knife and you charge him, unsheathing another knife strapped to your chest.

You’re in front of him in an instant. You kick your leg up in an attempt to knock him off his balance again, but he grabs your ankle and pushes you around.

You recover quickly, spinning around until you’re back face to face with him. Your hand swings the knife towards his neck, but he grabs your wrist.

He goes to kick your feet out from under you, but you quickly jump, kneeing him hard in the abdomen. 

You both recover before either of you can even blink, both back in stable stances instantly. 

You fake out a hit to his face. When he reaches up to stop the blow, your other hand is jolting the knife towards his stomach.

His forearm stops your punch from connecting, while his free hand bashes down into your wrist brandishing the knife, forcing it to fall to the ground with a loud clang.

You pull your now knifeless fist back and go to connect with his jaw, but he arches his back, moving his face back from harm’s way.

In your frustration, you get sloppy, giving Leon the perfect opportunity to pounce.

He straightens his back as you lean down to grab your knife. When your back is curved down, he kicks his leg straight out, swinging it over top of you. His thigh connects with the back of your neck and sends your body crashing to the floor.

Before he can pin you to the floor, you quickly flip onto your back. You dig your nails into his thigh, allowing yourself to slide out from under him as his leg goes stiff. 

As you slide out, you pull his calf roughly, causing his leg to straighten out and him to lose his balance.

Before his chest can even make contact with the floor, you’re on his back. Your hands grab a fistfull of his hair and yank it back as he hits the floor.

You wrap your legs around his neck, locking your legs together as they cross at the front of his neck. 

You bring one of your forearms below his chin, pulling him up at an uncomfortable angle.

“It didn’t have to be like this, Leon.” You say in a fake empathetic voice.

He grunts and his voice comes out strained, “You’re a fucking puppet!”

“So are you!” You yell out. You can’t help but shake your head, “I guess we do have something in common after all.”

Leon flings his body, flipping you over.

Your back crashes into the ground as he straddles your abdomen, trapping your hands at your hips.

“I’m trying to fucking help you.” He gets out through gritted teeth.

Leon feels his irritation growing impossibly larger as you laugh, once again, “I didn’t ask for your help. You put yourself into this shit, that isn’t my fault.”

He stares into your eyes with a death glare and you send one of your own right back at him. 

You can feel one of your knives beneath your thigh. If you can just strain your arm enough, you could pull it closer with the tips of your fingers until you can get a proper grip on it. He’ll just think you’re trying to wiggle out, if you just stretch your fingers enough… there it is! 

In the blink of an eye, you wrap your hand around the weapon tightly and bring it up to Leon’s leg, slicing into his thigh. 

He grunts out and flinches at the sudden sting, and of course, you utilize the opportunity.

You push yourself out from underneath him, rising to your feet and he does the same, ignoring the pain in the back of his leg. 

He surges forward, reaching out to grab you. You jump up and grab a low hanging pipe swinging your legs over his shoulders. Your ankles lock behind his head, but he keeps moving forward, forcing you to let go of the pipe.

His arms reach out to try and push you off of him, but you grab onto his forearms to keep yourself from falling.

He continues forward until his hips make contact with a metal table, throwing your back against the cold surface. He wraps his hands around your throat and you pull your leg against your chest, pushing the bottom of your shoe against his face.

This doesn’t help at all, so you come up with another idea.

You wrap your legs around his waist, gripping him tightly between your thighs. His eyes widen in response and his grip on your throat loosens.

You’re able to gain the upperhand, changing positions and pushing Leon back onto the table. His feet leave the floor as you push him further down the cold metal, climbing up after him.

It’s your turn to straddle him and wrap your hands around his throat.

His hands shoot up, gripping tightly around your wrists in an attempt to pull them away from him. Your wrists feel like they’ll break between his hands, but you only allow that to fuel yourself, gripping his throat tighter.

“Why couldn’t you just stay out of my fucking way?” You yell out, frustrated and somehow devastated that it had to end up this way.

His voice is scratchy as he forces words out of his mouth despite his lack of air, “How–could I–do that? This is–just–too much–fun.”

“Just shut the fuck up!” You grit out through your clenched teeth, “I have to do this, Leon. I have to see this through.”

Leon continues to gasp for air, his face growing red and his mouth forced open. His eyelids flutter as he keeps trying to suck in a breath, but you just squeeze tighter. His hands are shaking around your wrists, his grip slowly loosening.

His eyes roll into the back of his head and a desperate, pathetic noise leaves his lips as the lack of oxygen to his brain takes over.

You don’t know what happens. You don’t know what comes over you, but you let him go. You pull your hands away from his throat and he sputters and coughs as he desperately sucks the air into his dry throat.

His eyes focus back on yours and you don’t realize you’re crying until you lick your lips and taste the salty tears on your tongue.

You’re overcome with so many emotions and for some reason, your frustration turns to pure rage. You ball your hands up into tight fists and start pounding them against his chest, hard. Over and over you punch him and he just lets you. 

You scream at the top of your lungs a banshee-like sound that you didn’t know you were capable of making. 

You don’t see him as your fists connect with his chest again and again. You see the people you lost while being controlled by a parasite. The people you loved dying from your finger on the trigger, your hand wrapped around the handle of the knife, your hands wrapped around their throats.

You’re pulled back to the present as Leon wraps his hands around your wrists and stills them. You’re panting, chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. 

His eyes meet yours and you squeeze yours closed, unable to meet him head on. 

“They don’t know the pain. No one knows how I fucking feel.”

Maybe you did lose your humanity to that parasite. Maybe it was too late and you’ll always be this fucked up.

You feel Leon’s warm hands cup your cheeks, “Look at me.”

You slowly open your eyes and see a concerned look in Leon’s eyes. You can’t bare it, can’t bare his worry to be about you. You can’t handle anyone worrying about you anymore. It makes them vulnerable, puts them in danger. Anyone who cares about you is immediately worse off because of the fact.

You just sit there, your face in his hands and your body straddling his hips, lost somewhere deep in your own head.

Your eyes widen when you register what he’s done.

He’s kissing you. Leon Kennedy is fucking kissing you. 

Why is he doing this? Why does it feel so fucking good? Why are you closing your eyes and leaning into the kiss? Why are you bringing your hands up to his hair and tangling your fingers in the strands?

You don’t know what possesses you to reach down between the two of you and palm his hardening cock through his pants. You don’t know what possesses him to reach down between you two as well and hastily undo his belt. You don’t know what possesses either of you and the actions you continue to take, furthering a situation that doesn’t make any fucking sense, but neither of you make any effort to stop. Quite the opposite really. 

He pushes his pants down his hips and you undo the button and zipper on yours and your fingers are shaking so much, fumbling with every move you make and all you know is that you can’t stop.

Not when you’re pushing your own pants and panties down your hips and off of your legs. Not when you grab his underwear and nearly rip them off of his body.

And especially not when you sink your wet heat down onto his hard cock and start bouncing up and down desperately as his fingers dig into your hips and make you go faster.

No. All you can think about is chasing your pleasure and his. It’s the first time in years that your mind has thought of anything besides revenge and forcing others to endure the same pain you feel every single fucking day.

You don’t feel the pain. All you can feel is the way your walls clench around his cock, trying to pull him closer, pull him deeper, until there’s not one single bit of your pussy left that hasn’t been speared on his cock.

And as you throw your head back, screaming out as your climax crashes through you, your mind goes completely foggy. You can’t think at all. All you can do is feel the tingling relief coursing through your body from your powerful release.

You feel his come flood your pussy and it feels so fucking good. Everything feels so good right now. And after nothing feeling good, not even close, for years, you know you’re addicted. 

You don’t have to give your pain to others to somehow release yourself from it. No. You’ve found a way to release it from yourself over and over and fucking over again.

God fucking dammit, Leon Kennedy. Always so determined to find a way to help you and by the grace of God or some other holy intervention, the prick has found it. He’s found it and you’re going to keep giving it to him willingly.

~masterlist~

[spooklies]

# Invincible - Platonic Yandere Mark Grayson (PROFILE)

Type of Yandere: Mark as a platonic yandere would be clingy and overprotective over his sibling. You wanted to go hang out with some friends? Fine, but only if he could tag along. You insist he doesn't come? Then expect a pair of eyes watching you at all times. He'll need to know where you're at, what you're doing, and who you're with. If he doesn't approve of your friend(s) then he'll insist you cut them off. And if you don't? Then your friends will be forced to distance themselves from you after a “talk” with your brother.

Love Language: As a brother, Mark's love language would consist of hugs, ruffling of your hair, and quality time spent with each other. Your his favorite person in the whole world, so he'll want to spend as much time with you as possible!

Their Biggest Fear: Much like the other yandere profile I did for Mark his biggest fear when it came to you would be losing you completely. But the difference here would be losing you because of something he did or failed to prevent. He wouldn't go out of his way to harm you but he may set something up (like a traumatic catastrophic event) to prove to you why you need to keep him close by at all times.

Kidnapping: He wouldn't need to. If you were born into the family then there'd be no point in kidnapping. But if this was a found family situation then he would with some help from the other Grayson's no doubt since they’re also obsessed with you. But again much like the other yandere profile I did for Mark, he wouldn't see it as kidnapping. Just something he had to do out of necessity.

How Easy is it to Escape?: Impossible. Platonic yandere Mark would know your whereabouts at all times which means he's keeping tabs on everything. Who you're talking to, your favorite places to go to, and even information on your friends.

Punishment(s): Mark wouldn't be against locking you in your room no matter how old you were. If you were simply misbehaving and speaking out then he'd be the one to take your phone away, and if things continued to escalate then he'd ban you from seeing your friends and basically keep you isolated until you've apologized and learned what you did wrong.

Difference to Other Yanderes: Mark not only has his overpowered abilities but an even stronger father to help keep you in line if his tactics somehow didn't work. Mark is just a piece of the puzzle with the other Grayson's making the entire picture.

Additional Notes: As an older brother, Mark would take on that paternal vibe with how overprotective he'd get. As a younger brother he'd be overbearing (not to say he isn't if he were older just more so). Platonic Yandere Mark wouldn't want to hurt his younger sibling and if he ever did then he'd do everything he can to make up for it.

[unreliablesnake]

A special kind of therapy (Alex Keller x reader x 141)

Summary: Alex is stressed and frustrated, but you're more than happy to help him with that.

Warning: SMUT, MINORS DNI. Blowjob, unprotected p in v.

Note: I love Alex, my boy deserves the world. / Check the barracks bunny fics tag for more. / Follow @unreliablesnakefics if you wanna know when I post new stuff, and hit that get notifications button.

Alex knew Price would take the rest of the team away from the base, and so it would be the two of you working on the pile of documents and maps he brought with him. What he didn't expect was you having no idea what personal space was.

You were always there next to him, little finger not-so-accidentally brushing against his every now and then as you leaned above the table to take a better look at a piece of paper. It was clear you were flirting with him, but he tried to ignore it as long as he could.

"We should keep a break, I can't focus anymore. Maybe some coffee could help. What do you say?" you asked as you rested your hip against the table and turned to look at him through your lashes.

It became difficult to resist because his body automatically reacted to your advances, mirroring your flirting moves, then soon his brain began to make him wonder what it would be like to kiss you. Should he say something to prepare you? Or should he just kiss you without a warning?

He looked down at the map in front of him and gently knocked his fist against the table as he thought. You and Price were close, he had seen that the first time you met all those months ago. It wasn't clear how close, though. He didn't want to cross a line by making a move on you, but something the captain said made him think.

"I'm sure she will be eager to help you with everything," he had said, and there was a smile he didn't understand until now.

Maybe he knew you would do this, maybe you were attracted to him since that time you worked together on a mission, but in all honesty, he had never thought about you this way. Well, until now. Until you made a move on him and made him feel all sorts of things he had been pushing to the back of his mind in the past year or so.

He was alone in this office with you, having more than enough time before the others came back, so why not? Why shouldn't he take the opportunity you were offering? So he finally made up his mind and pulled you closer, his lips crushing into yours in a passionate kiss.

You didn't hesitate to sneak your arms around his neck, pushing your body against his in an attempt to make sure he didn't change his mind. But Alex wasn't about to push you away, after all this one kiss was enough to make him feel like a man again, awakening a primal side that couldn't wait to have you at his mercy.

He felt you unzip his pants, your hands beginning to push it down as you sank to your knees. You gently ran a finger along his cock, causing him to grab a fistful of your hair and pull you a little closer to it, ready to force you to take his aching member between your lips.

"That's how badly you want me?" you asked with a quiet chuckle as you wrapped your fingers around him. "Tell me what you want."

"Open your mouth, baby," he ordered you, barely able to wait any longer. You did as you were told, gently taking him between your lips before he eagerly pushed your head closer to his body, making you gag as the tip hit the back of your throat. "You're such a good little girl for me," Alex praised you, easing his grip to let you do your magic.

After all the time he had spent alone, most of it passing with him dreaming about a woman he couldn't get, it was nice to have you like this. You were clearly happy to please him, letting him fuck your mouth relentlessly, and your eyes were locked with his the whole time that made the whole experience even better.

By the time he had you bent over the table, buried deep inside you, he could barely think straight. He was pussy drunk, there was no other way to describe it, but he didn't mind the way your tight cunt could take his mind off his problems. Your satisfied moans were like music to his ears, encouraging him to keep going, to keep fucking you through your orgasm.

Alex wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up against his chest. "You okay?" he asked you, whispering into your ear before playfully biting on your earlobe.

You were a slurring mess by then, but you still managed to say yes, sweetly begging him to keep going and fuck you harder. Who was he to say no to that? So he went on a quest to make you reach another high, all while going after his own climax this time.

He wanted to pull out. He fucking swore himself to pull out in time because he didn't want to take any risks, but he couldn't stop himself. Feeling you come again, your body shaking in his arms made it hard to stay focused.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

As if you knew what his problem was, you reached for his hand and threw your head back against his shoulder. "It's okay, don't worry."

"You sure?"

With a short laugh you turned your head to kiss him softly, silently telling him everything was fine. "Don't stress too much about it, Alex. Did you have fun?" He hummed in agreement before placing a soft kiss on your temple. "Good. That was the plan."

[violettduchess]

A/N: I am so happy to be able to share my gift for the lovely @ikeromantic 💜 A deep dive into your blog told me you love AUs as much as I do so I was so happy to create one for our favorite Lelouchian.

Thank you to @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen for hosting and for being supportive, accommodating and all-around superstars. 💜

Clavis x Emma

Magic AU, Soulmates AU, First Kiss, Enemies to Lovers

WC: ~2k

The sun is glowing a bright lemon-yellow as Emma closes the wooden door to her shop. It’s a beautiful door, made of dark walnut and decorated with silvery moons and stars. Across the top, the words “Belle Magie” are etched into the hard wood. At night, the lettering glows a soft gold. Humming to herself, she wraps her free hand around the ornate brass doorknob and a subtle, warm orange glow emanates from her fingertips. The moons and stars flash once and she hears a satisfying, soft whoosh of magic. The door to her shop is now locked via enchantment and no one except Emma will be able to enter and poke around at all the treasures that line her shelves and counters.

Smoothing down her ochre and black robes, she carefully makes her way across the cobblestone street to the shop that is literally across from hers. Her nose wrinkles at the sign that hangs above the wooden door: “Lelouchian Enchantments” written in swirling, silver lettering that she would say is barely legible. His note, written in the same dizzying writing, is clutched tightly in her hand as she pushes open the lavender-colored door with a celestial design nearly identical to her own. But that is where the similarity ends.

Whereas Emma’s shop is neat, organized by ingredients, everything with its own place and labeled in her own very careful handwriting, his is a gigantic explosion of almost anything one can imagine. Bottles filled with liquids of all colors and bottles with questionable things floating in them, dried herbs and seeds in pots and packets, a whole section of plants that bite anyone who comes near them, not to mention odd gemstones, vibrant powders, paints and feathers. She ducks underneath the silver vines that have wrapped themselves around the wooden ceiling beams, ignoring the way they contract and rustle their leaves at her, and approaches the counter where she finds Clavis himself, carefully sorting what looks like glittery kidney beans.

“I got your missive. I believe it broke in through my window in order to deliver itself.”

At the sound of her voice, he turns, golden eyes gleaming like copper in sunlight. He wipes his hands on the folds of his pale lavender robes, grinning slowly. She is forced to admit to herself for the millionth time that Clavis is hardly unpleasant to look at, per say. But oh, how he irks her, with his smooth words, flamboyant personality and flashy enchantments. 

“Oh dearie me, when I said it was urgent, I suppose that gave it permission to cause destruction. I apologize.”

She bats away several tiny golden motes that have taken an interest in her chestnut hair and Clavis lifts his hand, wiggling his fingers in invitation. The golden pinpricks of light float towards him, circling his wrist and then solidify into a gold bracelet.

Refusing to be distracted by his tricks, she unscrolls his letter and lays it on the counter.

“Well? Where is it?”

“So impatient,” he tuts as he kneels down, lifting an ornate silver box from under the counter. It’s about the size of his hand and she can’t help but watch the way he trails his fingertips over the decorative embellishments. He has such elegant hands.

One brow arches slowly as she crosses her arms, shoving that thought away and burying it in annoyance.. “Well…..are you going to open it….?”

He sighs theatrically. “Some people have no sense of showmanship.”

Her lips quirk into a small, involuntary grin. “I’m not one of the poor suckers who come in here for your tricks and potions, Lelouch. Now open the box.”

He tilts his head, clearly enjoying how much she is trying to hide her curiosity. His hand rests on the lid of the box but doesn’t move.

“Don’t you want to know the story of how I acquired such a treasure? Why, it’s a tale of mighty heroics the likes of-”

“No. No, I do not.”

He pretends to be offended but the light in his eyes gives away the truth. 

“But it involves a goblin merchant from Benitoite and a heartsick wizard from the Jade Forest and-”

“And a dragon and a sea witch and a bloody one-eyed pegasus. Clavis, just open the box!” 

He laughs and it is the needle deflating the balloon of irritation that had overtaken her. She’s never met anyone with a laugh quite like his. It’s almost musical, but in the way of the inviting, simple melody of a children’s song. Something that stays with her, imprinting itself on her mind.

“Such an impatient pumpkin.”

“Don’t call me pumpkin.” The response is automatic, a reflex built over the long while she has known him. The first time Clavis had seen her do magic and seen the yellow-orange glow her magic emanates, he had bestowed her with that aggravating nickname.

Nimble fingers curl over the lid of the box and then he lifts it, revealing a round, milky-white stone nestled into a bed of black velvet. It reminds her immediately of the moon against a starless night sky.

She tilts her head quizzically. “This is the all-power Amor Lapis?” She had imagined something called the “Love Stone” being far more ostentatious, something pink or red and wild with sparkles. Something that would take her breath away. This stone, while pretty in its own way, looks rather ordinary.

“Such a skeptic.” He lifts the stone from its box, holding it in the palm of his hand. “It will only glow when two soulmates have found each other.” He lifts his gaze to her, his smile playful. “Know any perfect couples?”

She rolls her eyes, reaching out to touch the stone. “There’s no such thing as a perfect-” Her fingers brush Clavis’s palm and suddenly, the middle of the white stone begins to brighten, a soft glow radiating out from the center.

She jerks her hand away even as he nearly drops it. Her heart roars to life, knocking wildly around inside her chest.

Neither of them move and then, at the same time they both do, Clavis uncharacteristically fumbling to put the stone back in its box and she taking several steps back, one hand curling into the velvet folds of her cloak.

“It’s broken! It’s clearly defective!” Why does her voice sound just a bit shrill to her ears?

He clears his throat. She’s rarely seen him so rattled.

“It….oh dear…..maybe it is.” He frowns, staring down at the stone, at the dull, cream color of it, no glow to be seen. Then he draws in a breath, one that even she can hear shaking and looks at her. There is something unfamiliar in the depths of his sunrise eyes.

“We should try that again.”

“Try what again, exactly?”

“Touching.”

She should be balking at the very suggestion. 

She should already be halfway out of his crazy shop. 

She shouldn’t be stepping closer again, her gaze jumping from the stone back to him and then back again. 

And she really really should not be saying-

“Alright. To-to prove its deficiency.”

The smooth, dark counter is a barrier between them, one that feels like armor, something that will protect her although what she needs protecting from is uncertain, some nebulous thing forming on the edges of her consciousness, some unknown dream rising from the shadows of slumber.

Clavis then holds out his hand, palm up, his gaze meeting hers. Her heartbeat drums wildly through her veins, a rhythm she has never known before. Slowly she lifts her hand and places it in his. His skin is cool and smooth, soft in a way she would not have expected. Emma can feel his magic just here, flowing through him. It feels shockingly calm, not the wild chaos she thought it might be but soothing, like the scent of lavender, the soft pastels of the sky at sundown. She can feel her own magic responding, warming as it flows through her.

Beneath their joined hands, the Amor Lapis begins glowing again, a soft white light like a tiny flame igniting inside the stone. Her heartbeat roaring in her ears, she slowly withdraws her hand from his and watches as the glow dims and then, when they are no longer touching, winks off like a tiny candle snuffed out by a breeze. When Emma has gathered enough courage, she raises her gaze from the milky-colored stone to Clavis and her heart trips over its own beat. His eyes rival the glow of the stone, something new burning in their golden depths. The light of revelation. The light of truth. The light of desire.

When he finally speaks, his voice sounds soft, breathy in a way that causes Emma to bite the inside of her lip at the sound.

“Dearie me,” he murmurs, his gaze locked with hers, bright with an intensity that feels almost physical. “If that happens when we touch hands, imagine what might happen if we actually kiss.”

The word lingers between them, shimmering in the air like desert heat over sand dunes. Emma unconsciously licks her lips and Clavis’s gaze drops there, fast as quicksilver. His own lips part slightly as he stares at the full curve of her lower lip, the sweet bow of the top. His own voice, his own words, echo like thunder between them. 

….if we actually…..

….kiss….

Emma hasn't moved, hasn’t said a word, her soft eyes wide as a deer’s startled by a sudden, unexpected sound. And then he realizes what he said, what he has actually suggested and shame floods him, a tsunami of embarrassment that washes away the glimmer of hope, the clouds of desire that had overtaken him. 

What the hell was he thinking, talking like that? As if someone like her, someone so intelligent and kind and talented, someone beautiful inside and out, would ever be soulmates with someone like him. Forget soulmates, she doesn’t even like him. 

He hangs in head, soft twilight locks falling across his forehead, his knuckles white as he grips the counter with trembling hands. Stupid. Idiot. Never good enough. Never smart enough. Never ever would he be enough for someone else.

“Nevermind, I lost myself for a moment.” The words are acrid on his tongue and he feels the hot wash of color staining his cheeks and neck. “Obviously, there’s no way–”

Her hands are suddenly gripping those warm cheeks, pulling him towards her, forcing him to lean over the counter, above the stone, where she presses her lips to his. The Amor Lapis explodes with radiance, a tiny supernova encased by smooth stone. Even with closed eyes, Emma notices the brightening of the light but right now, she does not care. Because right now, she is holding Clavis’s face in her hands, and she is falling falling falling into kissing him.

At first he freezes, shock turning his blood to ice water in his veins. But then he realizes her mouth is really there, pressed against his, and then the burst of light automatically closes his eyes and the shock begins to thaw.

Now all he feels is the warmth of her kiss, the tentative movement of her lips and he gasps, reaching across the counter to touch her. Cradling each other’s face, they kiss, at first slowly, drinking in the fragile newness of the sensation, the unveiling of the truth that has been growing in both their hearts, quietly. Steadily. And then novelty slowly turns to pleasure, to desire. He grows bolder, sliding a hand down to the nape of her neck, holding her there so he can part her lips and sink into the sweet taste of her. If this is a dream, may he never wake up.

Emma sighs against him, a sound that echoes the twinkling of diamond-bright stars in a black velvet sky. All this time….all this time she’s been falling in love and never even realized it.

Minutes pass. Or maybe hours. Neither of them can say when they finally pull away from one another. Breathless, light-headed, floating, they both glance down at the Amor Lapis. The stone is luminous, glowing like a tiny moon dropped from the heavens. 

And it will continue to give off its beautiful light, for the rest of their days.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @ikesimpleton @mastering-procrastinating @namine-somebodies-nobody @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381 @bubblexly

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: love letters

pairing: grayson x (first person) reader

synopsis: you and grayson used to but ended on really bad terms. you never thought you’d meet his eyes again, let alone have a conversation… and that conversation changes everything

warning:

a/n: it’s a bit rubbish… sorry… but thanks for reading :)

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @stqrsbythepocketful @lxvebelle @mrs-venus-beaufort @emelia07 @f4iry-bell

I slowly make my way up the grand staircase to the main hall. Fancy dinner parties had never been my scene but as required by my employer I begrudgingly accepted. In a dress I didn’t own, or even intend to own I walk to meet my host.

“So glad you could make it,” she smiles a bit too warmly for my liking.

“Thanks for inviting me,” I reply, with the sort of smile you use when you have to be polite, “where am I?”

“Just between those two ladies there,” she explains, gesturing over the the seat between one young black-haired woman dressed in silks and another older woman in a deep blue.

“Thanks,” I nod at her, giving on last polite smile before my jaw got too tired to do so.

I walk over to my seat and go to sit down when something catches my eye or rather someone. I freezes mid movement, my eyes not being able to detach from the sight in front of me. I’ve never felt such a mix of shock and horror and awe in the entirety of my short life. It can’t be… oh but it is. I’d recognise that blonde hair and tailored suit anywhere.

Grayson Hawthorne.

Never again did I think I’d lock eyes with that piercing grey and never did I think it would feel so cold. I sit down and promise myself this will be the last dinner party I ever attend. I never should have step foot out of the house. I never should have agreed to this. Too little, too late now. There’s an odd sort of comfort when he too looks just as stunned, his eyebrows raised and lips slightly parted. The lips I used to kiss.

He opens his mouth to talk but I immediately look downs, avoiding any more eye contact. Conversation between us tonight would not happen. I wouldn’t let it. Nobody has to know I know him, he doesn’t have to talk to me, we can just pretend we’re strangers.

Strangers… the word repeats in my brain around and around. isn’t that what we are now? People who don’t talk or interact or really know anything about each other. Not anymore.

***

I force my eyes not to look at him throughout the whole dinner. I don’t want to look at him, I don’t want to be lured in again because I know my rational brain will go out of the window when my heart takes over. That stupid organ has too much control.

I seek to leave as soon as I can. Immediately after the three courses are done and there’s a window of opportunity to get away I do. I didn’t want to risk bumping into a certain Hawthorne on the way out. I rush out of the doors and towards my ride home. I’m half way down the staircase when…

“Y/N.”

His voice sent a tingle town my spine still. I stop and stand. Just when I thought I could escape him. I let out a breath and turn him around, letting myself take him in properly this time. He was different than I’d remembered him… something felt off. I tilt my head to the side and take in the man before me, the man who left me, the man who broke me.

“Grayson,” I say. My voice is strong and harsh and hard. He will never know how he hurt me.

He stares. I stare. It’s like a stupid competition and yet neither of us seem to give in. I can’t read what he’s thinking or feeling in this moment, but then again I don’t want to know. I’m done with the pain and I can’t put myself through it again.

“What’s the matter with you?” Grayson asks, his tone somewhere between concern and curiosity and judgment.

“What’s the matter with me?” I scoff, my eyebrows flying to my forehead.

How dare he? How much pride do you have to have to ask a question like that? It’s a joke, some kind of stupid joke the world is playing on me. What did I do to deserve this? Why now, why tonight? Just when my life is running smoothly, things like this seem to come along.

“Why are you being so cold,” he says, his brows furrowed, as if I should be dancing around and shitting rainbows around him.

“I’m not,” I snap quickly.

“You’ve barely looked me in the eye,” he expresses, his voice too full of emotion, too unlike his usual tone.

And suddenly I’m furious, I’m blinded by a sudden surge of anger. He wants me to look him in the eye after all he’s put me through? What so he can shoot me a smile and rub salt deeper into the wound he made?

“And you expect me to?” I yell, letting my rage take hold, “After everything we went through?”

“Well I wasn’t afraid of looking into yours,” Grayson snaps back.

“Oh so now you’ve finally overcome your cowardice,” I say with a smile laced with passive aggression, shaking my head, “too little, too late.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so infuriated by my presence, if anything I should be,” he replies.

“You should be?” I scoff, “well of course you would think that, you were always so self-centred.”

“I gave up everything for you,” he yells, his eyes filled with fire.

Grayson Hawthorne has never yelled at me. Grayson Hawthorne doesn’t yell. But I don’t flinch or back down. I ignore this new version of Grayson and bury it under the version I’d forgotten.

“No you didn’t,” I scream, “you say you did but you didn’t. You loved me and loved me and then-“

I trail off, I forget what I’m going to say and fumble to find the next set of right words.

“And then what?” he asks.

“And then you left,” I laugh bitterly, “and oh you left and never said anything again. So what gives you any right to show up here now.”

I don’t know what I’m saying, I’m angry and anger is all I can see.

“I didn’t just leave,” he spits, a venomous anger on this tongue, “I sent you letter every single day for a year and you didn’t answer a single one.”

“Letters?”

My heart nearly stops. I think it actually skips a beat. My brain stops functioning for a moment and everything is blank. If he sent me letters that means everything changes, that means everything is wrong. What I think of him, how I feel towards him, my whole perception of that relationship and what happened and what didn’t.

But he couldn’t have… he wouldn’t, he didn’t want to, he shouldn’t have wanted to. I refuse to believe it. Because then that means all of those sleepless nights of sobbing, all of those times I thought I meant nothing to him, every single day I looked in the mirror and hated everything about me was for nothing.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, “don’t do that, it’s too cruel.”

“No Grayson,” I say, trying to not let my voice waver, staring at him intently, “what letters are you talking about?”

He’s too in shock to reply. My eyes try to find his, darting around like a mad woman’s. I find myself gripping onto his arms and clinging to them. He finally meets my eyes. The grey that was once my world of precious rare metals, then dead like the wilted flowers I wept over and now… now they’re grey like the every changing storm cloud that can’t decide whether it should rain or not.

“What letters!?” I cry, my tone still thick with desperation.

a/n: tell me why this took me like three days to write?? my motivation was nowhere… but oh well. It’s a bit short and sweet, but I hope you guys enjoyed anyway :) requests are always welcome and let me know if you want to be on the tag list 🤍🤍

credit to @cafekitsune for the divided

TIG masterlist