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#overall so many familiar faces
the-lefthanded-fate · 6 months
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Just finished rewatching enola holmes, now it is time for the customary "what have I seen that British actor in before?"
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displayheartcode · 9 months
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your friend got married on new years eve??? That fucking slaps. God I'm so jealous
It was also the anniversary of their first date!
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springtyme · 4 months
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𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 ♡ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏
𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖! 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈
Simon catching baby fever, but you’re only roommates...
141 masterlist (there'll be a part two of this)
Before you, the only time Simon really left his flat when he was home on leave was to go to the gym or to go get groceries. 
He was content with this routine, he found comfort in the familiarity of it, and enjoyed the peace and quiet of his own space. Or at least that is what he told himself. This way of life had been sufficient for him for a long time, but as time went on he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. 
That is when Simon found himself considering the idea of getting a flatmate. He thought about it for a while, weighing the pros and cons in his mind. On one hand, he enjoyed his independence and privacy. On the other hand, having someone else around the flat could be a good thing, and he does have an extra bedroom in the flat that’s just collecting dust. Maybe it would be a good idea… Maybe.
After much contemplation, Simon finally decided to take the plunge and start looking. He posted an ad online, and waited for responses to come in. To his surprise, he received a good handful, he had actually not anticipated that that many, if any, would be interested in sharing his space. It is a little overwhelming, and as he goes through the applications he starts to doubt whether he had made the right decision. 
What if he didn’t get along with any of them? What if they were messy or loud or just generally annoying? It was a dumb idea to begin with, he thought to himself, but then as he looked through the last application, something caught his eye.You. 
You seemed responsible, tidy, and overall like someone he could get along with. But there was something more about you that intrigued him. Maybe it was the way you wrote about your love for cooking and how you were looking for a quiet and peaceful place to call home. Or maybe it was the photo you attached to your application, a warm smile on your face that made Simon feel at ease. 
Maybe this could work out after all. 
And work out it did, maybe a little too well. It has now been a little over a year since you moved in, and despite Simon being gone on deployment more often than not the two of you have become very close. You cook meals together. You watch movies on lazy nights, where you will sometimes fall asleep on the couch, your lashes kissing your cheek as the soft glow of the tv illuminates your face, and Simon can’t help but feel a warmth in his heart as he tucks the fluffy blanket, that you had brought with you when you moved in, over your sleeping form.
After you moved in, his flat feels more like a home than it ever had before. It’s like you were always meant to be there, filling up the empty space in his life that he didn’t even realise was there. 
There is something so oddly domestic about all the small things you do together – sharing a cup of tea in the evenings as you talk about your day, or even playfully arguing over who gets to do the dishes that night, even though he secretly never actually minds doing them. 
Pushing the trolley down the aisles of the supermarket as the two of you do the big shop together on Sundays are one of his favourites, though. Because he knows what it looks like from the outside – just a couple doing their weekly grocery shopping. The only thing that would make the scene even more picturesque would be with a little baby in the trolley, a perfect blend of the two of you, giggling and reaching out to try and grab for the items on the shelves as you both laugh and try to keep them entertained.
These thoughts will sometimes sneak into Simon’s mind, and he will quickly shake them away, reminding himself that it is just his imagination running wild. He can’t think like that, it isn’t fair to you or to himself. But still, the idea lingers in the back of his mind, growing stronger with each passing day.
It has started to get harder and harder to ignore these thoughts, these feelings. He tries to push them away, to bury them deep down, but they keep resurfacing. He never really expected to feel this way about you, about anyone, really. But now that he has you in his life, so close yet so far from what he actually wants to be he can’t help but dream about a different life, to have a family, a future, a life outside of the military and his flat.
Suddenly, Simon starts to notice more and more babies around him. Whether it’s at the park when he is on his runs, in Tesco, or even on TV, they seem to be everywhere. And each time he sees a baby, his heart aches with longing. It doesn’t help that your neighbours just had a baby, and he has to watch you coo over the little boy every chance you get. It is like a knife twisting in his chest, knowing that he will never have that with you.
It has always been a secret desire of his, a wish he knew he would never be worthy of having fulfilled. And yet, it linger in the depths of his heart, elusive and shimmering like a mirage in the desert. The dream of someday having a family of his own, of doing things right, of breaking the cycle he had grown up in. After meeting you, his dreams became more vivid, more concrete. 
He has fallen in love with you, and that scares the living daylights out of him. He never thought he would be in this situation, especially after all the sick shit he has been through. But here you are, filling up the empty space in his heart, making him yearn for a life he never thought he could have.
But Simon is good at keeping his emotions in check, so he continues to play his part, to act like everything is okay, like he doesn’t feel this overwhelming love for you that threatens to consume him. 
But late at night, Simon lies awake in bed, when he is sure you’re sleeping and he is staring at the ceiling, his heart feels heavy with the weight of his unspoken feelings. 
And when he tries to decompress, by fisting his aching cock in his hand, guilty thoughts of you will flood his mind, making him ache with longing. 
He knows it’s wrong, he knows he shouldn’t be thinking of you in that way. But the images of you, of your smile, of your laughter, of your kindness, they linger in his mind, fueling his desires. The way you smile and laugh and light up his life in ways he never thought possible, it fuels a fire within him so all consuming, so intense, that he can’t help but give in to it, even if just in the confines of his own mind.
And as he strokes himself, he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have you in his bed, to feel your touch, to hear your moans of pleasure. He imagines what it would be like to hold you close, to feel your warmth against his skin, to hear you whisper words of love and affection in his ear. To have you beg for him to fill your womb and mark himself as yours. He would love it – to pump you so full with his cum, for it to take root, to see your body change with his child, to create a life with you, to have a family of his own. 
He will have to bite down on his own hand to stifle his groans and to stop himself from moaning your name out loud. It’s a dangerous game he plays in the silence of the night, as he knows that these feelings, these desires, can never be acted upon. But still, he can’t help but indulge in these fantasies, in these dreams of a life that he may never have.
And as he lies in his bed after, spent and worn, a sense of guilt wash over him. He knows that it’s wrong to have these thoughts about you. But he can’t help it, he can’t control it, and as he lies in the darkness of his bedroom, he can’t help but feel the sting of longing in his chest, knowing that you lie in your own bed just down the hall, so close yet so far away.
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malereadermaniac · 4 months
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Betrothed ~ Alpha FireLord Zuko x Omega male reader
Even after his father had been overruled, Zuko couldn't experience true freedom; bound by his duty as firelord Part of that duty was of course, as an Alpha, to find a mate and continue the lineage of the fire nation But when the firelord is brought a familiar face by the royal matchmaker, he's put at ease word count: 3.1k Sfw & Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI
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Zuko felt uncomfortable - both physically and emotionally. Physically, the firelord was uncomfortable from the head to toe firelord get-up; his advisors insisting he wears traditional Alphan fire lord clothing to his matchmaking appointment. He was deemed one of the luckiest men in the world, an Alpha born into not only wealth but royalty, but those blessings came with their own limitations. Zuko wanted to choose his partner, he wouldn't care of their secondary gender or status, the alpha just wanted the real love he had been deprived of all his life - and that was the root of his emotional discomfort. But nonetheless, as FireLord, he had a duty to his people and his honor, so Zuko was willing to go through with whatever was about to come.
As the matchmaker walks into the arranged meeting room, Zuko's nerves turn 10 fold - but he, of course, doesn't let that show, a simple chill running up his spine instead. He watches as the evidently Beta woman places down her folder and a packet of scent patches, sneaking a peak at her notes when she opens her folder; many graphs of scent compatibility catch Zuko's eyes along with his profile, clearly this woman takes her job seriously. After the matchmaker introduces herself, she hands out scent patches to any Alphas or Omegas in the room, allowing for Zuko to only be able to smell his soon-to-be mate and as to not overwhelm the Omega - afterwards, the woman starts to give a brief rundown of what will occur. Zuko listens attentively as he fidgets with his fingers beneath the table: the omega will walk in, she will read his brief information, the two will greet and scent each others wrists, if Zuko accepts the Omega then any advisors and herself will leave the room for the two to talk. It felt like the woman was talking forever, the FireLord's heart beating quicker and quicker by the second, but once she finally stopped, Zuko's head snapped to look at the door as the matchmaker stood up to let his future mate into the room. The last thing Zuko expected to see was his childhood friend - you, (y/n) (l/n).
"(Y/n)?!" Zuko stutters out, going to stand up but his advisors easing him to sit back down
"Ah! Zuk-..." you stopped yourself when you saw the matchmakers face, procedures had to be followed to a tee according to her. You make you way to the table Zuko was sat at and bow with grace
"FireLord Zuko, it's an honor"
Holy shit, your voice had such an immense effect on Zuko, the title of FireLord rolling off of your tongue perfectly. You were dressed in traditional clothing, ridiculously adorned with fire nation accessories, the sleeves of your clothing long enough to cover your hands as you nod and bow - you looked enthralling. Zuko had never seen you in this light, his contact with you having been cut before your secondary gender had shown itself, but man, did you really grow into a full Omega. Your scent was surprisingly the last thing the Alpha had noticed, but once he took a note of it, it was all the man could think of; a soft smell of flowers and cotton, it reminded Zuko of the happy portion of his childhood, but most of all it made his inner Alpha flare up like mad. The matchmaker starts to read off your information as you sit down in front of the royal, the both if you fighting smiles.
"(Y/n) of the affluent fire nation family of (L/n). Overall healthy with a blood type and astrological match with the FireLord. Most importantly, a 98% match between their pheromones. His fire bending is passable, but he passed top of his class in fire-healing. He has etiquette training, cooking, cleaning, and even medicinal skills as well as a fertility of 0.7 - one of the highest in the nation."
You cringed at all of your personal, embarrassing details were read off and watched as Zuko's advisors checked off on their little clipboards - but all of your negative emotions vanish when you catch Zuko's eyes, the warm smile on his face putting you at ease immediately. His scent was not only calming and anything but overwhelming, but it also felt like it was perfect for you, it was like gold was running through your veins every time you took a breath. The two of you snapped out of your infatuated dazes from the matchmaker coughing to draw attention. Zuko's advisors mumbled amongst themselves and then one whispered to Zuko, which resulted in a smile from the handsome Alpha which was followed by a nod - then, the next thing you knew, Zuko was holding out his wrist.
"May I scent you, (y/n)?" Zuko asked, initiating the scenting with his voice smooth like silk. You immediately agree and rub the scent gland on your wrist against Zuko's, your muscles instantly fully relaxing as his scent sticks to your gland. The two of you watch as all surrounding people leave the two of you alone and sit in a brief silence; that is until Zuko softly breaks it. Usual small talk turns into friendly catching up, Zuko interested in your life after the two of you were forced apart by life - you'd both talked about missing and thinking about each other and how you'd even witnessed Zuko's Agni-kai with his father. Over the half an hour that the two of you talked, your hands slowly crept closer together until Zuko's strong hand had its slender fingers intertwined with yours. Just before his advisors interrupted the two of you, Zuko had asked a question that shocked you
"Do you want to be my mate?"
Zuko knew the two of you had no choice in the matter, but because of his history with you, his previous and current soft-spot for you, he would want anything but to keep you in a forced relationship for his own benefit. After a short silence, a soft nod from you put Zuko's heart at ease; but that peace was only shortly lived until his advisors walked in and had you two follow along, the life of royalty barely giving the Alpha a chance to breathe. The two of you walked behind Zuko's head advisor, his other few trailing behind you both - and even they couldn't help but notice how right you two looked walking next to one another. After being escorted to your new shared bedroom, Zuko's advisors planned to take Zuko away to further discuss your relationship; however a wrench had been thrown into their plans when Zuko immediately disagreed, demanding that a discuss that surrounds you should include you. The way that the Alpha stood up for you made you beam internally, a small smile making its way onto your face, and with no room for argument, you left the room with Zuko and his advisors towards the meeting room. Passing by the throne room, the two of you notice some workers build you a throne as they did for Zuko - those advisors work really quick it seems - the both of you take into account how Zuko's is taller and positioned just a little higher than yous...
"We propose that the wedding happens by the end of the month" the lead advisor begins the discussion. The scene isn't necessarily foreign to you, your father having you sit in on meeting with the previous FireLord in this very room, a large table sits in the middle of the room, Zuko is positioned at the head with you next to him (kneeling in the floor) as his advisors sit at the opposite end.
"Isn't that a little too soon? Can't we have it by the end of the year?" Zuko argues, clearly not wanting to rush a delicate process
"One month is quite generous already, Lord Zuko... You must pull your nation together, a royal wedding is the type of celebration you need - the sooner the better, ten months is far too long" another advisor pops up
"One month isn't even enough time for me to properly court (y/n)" Zuko fights back, a calm demeanor on his face as he looks towards you and smiles
"My Lord, the Omega isn't the priority at this point in time, keep in mind you also need to provide an heir" the main advisor explains
"An heir? I understand the wedding, but the throne will receive an heir when the two of us so wish!" Zuko's tone shifts, clearly offended at the suggestion that your purpose in this marriage is to pop out pups
"Why don't we compromise to five months?" You pipe up, fidgeting with your sleeves as you look at the advisors
A short silence fills the room
"Don't speak during meeting, Omega" one of Zuko's advisors says to break the silence. All of then were thinking it, he was just stupid enough to say it
"I beg your pardon? Leave" Zuko demands, his tone devoid of emotion, and when the advisor protests, one look towards his guards has them remove the advisor from Zuko's meeting room.
"U-Uhm- Five months is acceptable, thank you" the lead advisor acknowledges your point, the first time you'd even been looked in the eyes by one of Zuko's trusted men
After the awkward meeting that surrounded your near and far future, the rest of your day reflected the whirlwind prior, sorting out royal duties and meeting Palace staff. But as the sun began to set and you made your way back to your room, Zuko stopped you
"Yes, my Lord?" You ask, looking up into Zuko's eyes with soft, tired eyes
"Y'know you can just call me Zuko..." the alpha blushes, the title really affecting him only when it came from your soft lips
"Haha... sorry, guess my training really did work" you chuckle
"Hmhm... was it really that intense?" Zuko asks as he starts to walk with you to the royal bedroom
"I mean... if you'd say 4 hours of etiquette training and 3 hours of learning how to please an Alpha a day is intense then yeah" you say with a sly smirk, the sarcasm in your voice evident
"Wow... I didn't even know... I've only ever had the regular royalty lessons" Zuko mumbles, closing the door behind you
"Yeah... even if I come from an affluent family, my secondary gender makes me get treated like a mutt" you say with a smile
"Well I promise you... I won't let that happen around here if I can help it." Zuko says sincerely, holding your hand in his firmly. The sweet gesture makes you blush, your words failing to come out of your mouth; your scent glands running rampant from receiving basic respect for once in your life! After a few minuets of silence, looking into each others eyes while blushing and breathing in each other's scents, Zuko suggests the two of you get to bed. You have to rip your eyes away from the Alpha as he let's his hair down, stripping off his heavy attire to his bare chest.
"Ah! Sorry! I'll step into the bathroom if you need" Zuko says with a worried look on his face as your insane scent snaps him out of his thoughts; your blushed face and eyes fixed on his toned body really giving away that your instincts were taking over.
"No! Sorry! Oh my, I'm so sorry!" You shout, tearing your eyes away and turning around embarrassed. Zuko chuckles and continues to change, but the same ordeal repeats when you begin to change - however, it was even more intense as the Alpha was practically drooling at the sight of your bare skin.
Sleep was very needed after such a chaotic day, and after a chaotic week, and a chaotic month. At some point, Zuko asked for your permission to court you, proposing with the crown given to the FireLord's mate; and of course, you agreed. Life started to seem less chaotic after that. Zuko would shower you with gifts every day and ensure to spend at least 4 hours a day with you, taking you out on dates to prestigious restaurants and on smaller dates in the Palace Gardens; it was enjoyable, it was the secondary school experience the two of you never had, having either been in private tutoring or single gender private school. It was also very evident that the two of you had never had your firsts in everything, of course, because of valid reasons; Zuko had been exiled near the time his secondary gender had come through! And you were under strict orders to stay untouched until you were mated, being collared for most of your life. But still, it was very evident that you two were massive virgins.
Point A: When Zuko proposed to court you with the priceless, beautiful artifact of the Royal family, you hugged him. The way that the Alpha turned red within seconds, his pheromones suffocating you, Zuko desperate to keep you in his touch as he scented you. It was clear that the young FireLord had never had even physical contact with an Omega.
Point B: The first kiss that the two of you shared. On a small picnic date in the gardens of the Palace under the moonlight a month into the alpha courting you, Zuko asked to kiss you. And holy shit when he did, the two of you were inseparable. Your lips were stuck to Zuko's for an entire half an hour, his tongue devouring your mouth as Zuko was taken over by his inner Alpha, pushing you gently to the ground and hovering above you. Your pheromones and his were running rampant, mixing in the air to make a stunning aroma, your moans were music to the Alpha's ears as your stomach did flips just from kissing Zuko. You could feel how hard Zuko was as he was grinding against you, desperate to feel you, desperate to have whatever he's been craving since he presented. Luckily, some guards stopped the two of you from doing anything that would get you into trouble.
Point C: Zuko is only 20, jealously is understandable. So when Sokka paid a visit to the Palace and required you healing after doing something stupid, Zuko had never felt what he felt in those few minutes. You, seeing another Alpha naked, touching his body to heal him with your fire, you'd never done that for Zuko! His pheromones were sour and his chest hurt, and once Sokka made his way to the guest room and you and Zuko to your own room, the Alpha demanded to know if you were infatuated by his water tribe friend. It was so evident that even seeing someone else's naked body was a high level of intimacy to Zuko, and even to you, it was at the time. But after kissing for the whole night, the Alpha's hands roaming your body gently, his jealousy faded away.
Eventually, the two of you made it official, Zuko's advisors already scheduling the wedding for the end of that week. The nation was ecstatic, hundreds of thousands of people either showed up or read about your wedding and mating to the FireLord. And that night, after finally getting permission from his advisors, Zuko set his eyes on marking you...
That night was intense, and it went on for ages, so here's a brief recap:
Once the two of you were basically locked in your bedroom by your advisors, Zuko decided to initiate
He held you against the door, and after gaining permission from you, looked down into your fucking sexy eyes, held your chin up to him and quickly started to kiss you
The Alpha held your waist and you chin, his tongue dominating you along with his insanely powerful and attractive scent
The two of you made your way to the king-sized bed without breaking the kiss once - Zuko on top of you as he undresses you
Once the two of you were naked, all hell broke loose
Your legs were placed onto the Alpha's broad shoulders, his two slender fingers immediately going to your slick-leaking hole
Moans filled the grand room along with a rich aroma of your scent mixed with Zuko's
You had cum already just from Zuko's fingers, and once he had licked up all of your sweet, sterile cum, Zuko aimed his huge Alphan cock at the entrance of your hole
The two of you went at it for what felt like hours, your bodies covered in sweat and scent glands releasing so many pheromones that they were beginning to liquefy and pool by your glands
Your hole had been stretched long ago, taking the shape of Zuko's huge, veiny dick
Eventually, Zuko couldn't hold back anymore, knotting you and cumming in unison with his Omega - the two of you taking the opportunity to fulfill your duty and mark each other
With that out of the way, the two of you spent the rest of the night making passionate love to one another, pleasuring each other in so many ways that your combined orgasm count for the night was 17! Luckily you two are literally built to have shit tons of sex!
And after that night, the two of you couldn't get enough of each other after finally tasting what you had been missing
For now, you were on the most expensive birth control - pills made in the earth kingdom using natural herbs and minerals that are almost 99% effective at keeping you and Zuko from providing an heir a little too early
So with the worries of pups out of the way, you two would go at it like... well... Alpha and Omega
Heats were insane but well spent with Zuko, the Alpha eating you out and fingering you for and hour minimum, making you orgasm plenty of times before satisfying the burn in your stomach with his huge cock
Zuko's ruts were when shit really hit the fan, his advisors would have to leave the palace and have it guarded for the week it lasted - luckily they were more rare than your heats
In summary, your Chambers walls have seen many things: from you worshiping the Alphan firelords body to Zuko letting you, the light of his life his Omega, ride him like a toy without permission to touch you
And in the future, once you two are ready for pups, Zuko can't wait to be the father he never had - and he knows that seeing you as a dad and care for his pups will further awaken something within him he never knew he had before meeting you
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pearlzier · 2 months
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────⠀ ⠀cowboy!matt x farmer's daughter!reader
based off this bot here. cowboy!matt my beloved. warnings / smut, oral (m!receiving), naive!reader, virgin!afab!reader, p in v, pet names (sugar, darlin', sweet girl, baby, pretty baby etc.) i know nothing about horses so like. THIS IS LONG 😭😭 no clue how many words idk long. cum on. ass !!!!!
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"you've got a good heart, darlin'," matt's voice is gentle, warm. characterised by that accent, words oozing out of his mouth like fresh honey. his blue eyes linger on you for a moment, he's trying hard to not rake them over you, to look over your curves beneath the denim of your overalls. you're adorable. the bows on the buttons and all. he's taken a little off guard by the sight of you looking at him with those soft features, his attention grabbed again by your words.
you let out a soft squeak when he grasps at your chin gently, calloused fingers from hard work against your skin. a small smile adorns your lips at the touch, eyes searching his for a moment. matt wishes the absolute best for you, he really does. he wants to ruin you—but maybe also take you away from this shitty farm. "just.. wanted to be nice, 'n' helpful, y'know?" you tell him, rolling your shoulders in a shrug.
"but thank you," you add afterwards, a giggle bubbling from your lips. matt feels that familiar pang of warmth in his heart at the sight and sound of it.
fuck, he's done for.
he notices how quiet you are, seemingly nervous and thinking of something to say. a small smirk adorns his lips for a moment. he goes to speak. however you get to it first—"what's their name?" matt glances over and sees you're staring at his horse. a soft gleam sparkles in his eyes and he's more than happy to tell you whatever you please about his best girl.
the smile on his face grows wider at your interest, and he adjusts his cowboy hat, looking back at his mustang too. "mmh? 'er name's angel, my pretty little mustang, hm?" he lifts a hand to brush over her mane, quiet for a minute before he looks back over to you. "wanna brush her f'me, darlin'?" he asks, already rummaging in his saddle bag for the brush.
your eyes light up instantly, and you're practically finding the brush for him with how excited you are. "yeah, please?" your head nods fervently, fingers fiddling with the straps of your overalls as you eye the brush he comes up with.
there's a soft, breathy laugh that escapes him at your excitement at the prospect of brushing his angel. a soft hum comes from him and he nods his head. he swears he can feel his heart aching in his chest with every glance at you. you're too cute. he's gonna pick you up and never let you go, he swears.
"all yours, sugar," he tells you, smiling as he hands the brush to you. he holds the eye-contact, searching your gaze for a minute. "be real gentle, now," his words are soft, voice warm as he guides you over to angel. "she's a sweet girl, the sweetest, but she'll get antsy if you're too rough. she's a diva like that. got it, baby?"
honestly, you know exactly how to brush a horse since you do it nearly every damn day on your dad's farm, however because he sounds so sweet and is beinf so sweet, plus he called you baby? yeah, you'll pretend like you've bever seen a horse in your entire life. taking the brush, you nod your head, "got it," the feel of his hands on your arms makes a warmth flutter in your stomach.
this is his horse, so you're extra careful with angel, murmuring quietly, "you're really pretty," as if the horse could hear you. this makes matt's heart melt where he is, and his tongue darts out to lick over his bottom lip for a moment. matt leans back against the wooden fence, both hands grasping at the top as he watches you brush angel's sleek coat, his blue eyes fluttering over the two of you. his best girls.
"gettin' all loved up on her, ain't you, sweet girl?" he muses quietly, his words are light hearted, eyes tracking your every movement.
"i love her," you affirm, a smile playing on your lips once more as you look to angel again. she's whinnying and leaning towards your touch, content beneath the brush. when you look back at matt, you murmur, "she's adorable." matt nods in agreement, a soft sigh escaping him.
when you're done, you look the mustang over for a minute, glance back at matt, then back again. you're quiet again, thinking about what it'd be like to ride her, but you shake yourself out of your thoughts soon after. matt's brows cock for a moment. "she's the prettiest, ain't she?" he takes back the brush, putting it onto the fence by where he was before he steps up behind you. he can't help but place his hands on your hips.
he draws you back against him, squeezing at your hips for a moment with draws the line between appropriate and well, inappropriate, a lot closer. "you wanna ride her, don't you, sugar?" he feels you relax against him, almost immediately, and he meets your gaze for a minute. seeing you nod, a soft, amused smile settles on his lips again. "daddy doesn't let me ride our horses," a frown settles on his lips at your words.
another quiet hum rumbles in his chest when he feels you lean against him. matt's grip on your hips tightens, and he's resisting the urge to tug you back against him.
"course can, pretty girl," he says gently, tilting your head up for a minute. "daddy ain't here. i am. so, c'mere, now. let me help you up."
you're practically beaming when he says that. he's so damn sweet, you're realising. maybe you really are into cowboys. and really, you hadn't met many guys before, but regardless, he's so damn sweet. "daddy ain't here, you are," you agree, nodding your head. you can get with that logic.
god damn it, you're sweet.
"atta girl," he murmurs, coaxing you closer to angel. he had to admit he's having some very impure thoughts the moment he gets his hands on you, helping you up onto angel's saddle. he's quiet for a minute. you look so damn good up there, on his mustang. thank god for these cowboy pants because damn, he's straining a little here.
he wanted to settle you somewhere other than the saddle, definitely.
matt hops up too, sitting behind you. his chest comes flush against your back, the urge to run his hands over your body is palpable but he holds off. he sees the way you shiver a little, and he asks, "you doin' good, darlin'?" his words are soft. "not gettin' scared, are you?"
admittedly, yeah, you are. you feel so tall and high up, having never been at this height before. however the feel of angel beneath you, unmoving, not budging, makes you feel better. and matt's hands on you too. "ain't gonna let you fall, baby. i'll take good care of you."
"okay," you nod your head, leaning back against matt. feeling angel start to move beneath you, you grasp onto the reins. the mustang trots beneath the two of you, making some ground as she wanders about a bit. this makes you relax, it isn't as scary as you thought. besides, matt behind you, holding you tight, there's no way you'd get hurt.
matt could barely focus with your body against his, ass flush against his crotch and practically grinding back against him every minute or so. but he knew he had to be responsible and keep you safe, so he tries to calm the thoughts running through his head at that moment. thinking about how he wanted you bent over a hay bale beneath him wasn't exactly a good idea considering he had your safety to focus on. "you like it?"
you can feel matt's hands on your stomach, warm and gentle. his voice is low in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and your hands tightening on angel's reins. "feels good, pretty thing?" he murmurs, and you nod, though unsure whether he was talking about riding around on angel or his touch on your body. albeit, it's definitely both. "yeah," you say quietly to his words, glancing around the field idly for a moment. "daddy shoulda' let me ride horses earlier, this is amazin'."
the farm looked so pretty. the sunset glowing down onto the grass and the two of you, the fruit trees swaying idly and the faint sounds of the animals in the barn only adding to everything. plus, you had a cute cowboy helping you ride his horse. it's the most free you'd been in.. well, ever.
a shiver goes down his spine too at how relaxed you are, how gentle your words are. his mind's spinning, you're so damn soft. it's like you're meant to be against him, your body moulding perfectly into his. he keeps his hand firm against your stomach, before he speaks up again.
"you know.." that gets your attention and you look back at him, "i wanna show you somethin', pretty baby, you trust me?"
despite the fact that that you'd only talked to matt a little bit, this being your first ever proper meeting, you did trust him. perhaps you were naïve (you are) but you were enjoying his company and he radiated warmth. "uh, yeah, alrighty," might also be the warmth of his hands against you clouding your judgement but he does seem genuinely caring and compassionate. "i trust you."
a grin settles on his face the moment he sees your agreement, and he gently encases your hands on angel's reins, bringing his body closer against yours. that's it, you're doing so well.
"s'not far," he assures you, spurring angel forward so she leads the two of you away from the farm. you glance back almost immediately, lashes fluttering against your cheeks. it's getting late out, but you were sure matt'd bring you back before your daddy started to worry, so you settle against angel and continue riding.
you couldn't remember the last time you'd been outside the farm, to be completely honest. and you're sure matt can feel the excitement rolling off of you as angel leads you both further and further from the farm. the sun is setting, slowly but surely, purpley pinks and golden oranges glowing down on you. matt's eyes drift over you, how damn pretty you look under the sun's rays. he's so taken by you. finally, the two of you make it to a little clearing. though, in the centre is an old, worn down barn. how charming.
matt helps you off the horse, hands grasping at your waist as he sets you down onto the grass. "s'got character," you say, finding the nice things in the otherwise.. a tad bit run down exterior. maybe he's thinking too far ahead, he could be, but he could imagine you and him fixing up the place, making it your own one day. the two of you admire it for a moment, the charm and whimsy of it.
he keeps his hands on your waist despite the fact he doesn't need to, his hands smoothing over the denim of your overalls. his grip keeps you against his chest, and he's quiet, just taking you in. "right, c'mere," he says finally, urging you foreard with a nudge of your hips and coaxes you forward with a nod of his head towards the barn. "wanna show you somethin' inside, baby."
you glance up at him, brows cocking with curiosity, "what've you got in an ol' barn like this?" your eyes dart around for a moment, just looking at the surroundings. matt lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, because you're right, an old barn like this? not much going on. but he silently leads you inside, knowing you're completely unaware of his thoughts at that moment. or any of the moments prior.
it's basically pitch black inside despite the flickering rays of fading sunset peeking in from the top windows. you can't see much, if anything at all, eyes having not adjusted to the darkness yet. matt, however, can see perfectly fine at that moment. as a cowboy, he'd seen his fair share of the dark already.
the inside is basically bare, some old couches, hay bales, dirt on the floors and scattered wood, straw too. he can see your mind working in the darkness, and his hands on you are gentle, reassuring that you're fine. he guides you forward slowly, till you bump into a bench, and end up sat down. you try to meet his gaze in the darkness, however it's a little fruitless considering you can't see shit. "matt?" your words are soft, curious.
matt moves directly in front of you, pushing between your legs so that they spread out to accomodate him. now you can see him better, a sliver of light behind him making his figure clearer to your eyes.
"you trust me, sweetheart?" he asks once more, and of course, you nod once more too. his hands come and clasp yours, fingers interlacing with yours. bringing your hands up to his chest, he splays your fingers against him. matt's hot breath fans against your face. "of course you do," he murmurs quietly, smiling gently at the sight of you.
you watch as he slowly leads your hands over his body, hot, warm and firm beneath your hands. matt guides your hands down to his stomach, and you pause there, his blue eyes darting to yours. "keep going," his voice is low and quiet, "lower, honey."
now, your hands ease over him, over his hips to feel the plaid fabric of his shirt end and shift to the cold metal and hot leather of his belt. your fingers brush his belt buckle, and he looks at you once more. "undo it," he coos, "undo my belt."
"i've never.." you go to warn him, but he knows, he knows and he's okay with the fact that you've never done this with a guy before. as he watches you undo his belt, tugging it from the loops, a soft smile settles on his lips. your breathing picks up, chest rising up and down in quickened breaths. it's a good look on you, all breathless and needy.
"that too," he brushes his fingers over your face, touching your skin gently when he sees you undoing his jeans. as soon as he tells you to, you do it, and that makes heat warm his abdomen. matt strokes his thumb over your neck, head tilting to the side. "pull 'em down. there's a girl, that's it," he shivers a little, as do you, as you pull down his jeans, a breeze hitting his thighs.
"you like what you're seein', baby?" he stands above you, wearing his plaid shirt and boxers. matt grasps at your hands once more and he guides them over his bare thighs, a low grunt escaping him.
you had to admit he's good looking. so good looking. you may have been sheltered your entire life but you'd, of course, watched a hell of movies before. and he's like prince charming, the way he treats you, so gently and patiently. "uh-huh," you mutter, shifting your weight where you're sat. "you look.. good."
"just good?"
"uh, really good. like.. woah," that makes him laugh, and he tilts his head for a moment, as he guides your hands now to the waistband of his boxers. curling your fingers into the fabric, he mumbles, "god, you've got such soft hands."
"i do?" feels like you haven't done a single bit of hard labour in your life.
"every part of you's soft, sweet girl," that's true. he knows it, you know it. he squeezes your hands over his boxers, grunting quietly as your palm brushes over the front. he's straining against the fabric already, not wanting to stain them with a wet patch he knows is impending. "pull these down for me," he lets you tug at the elastic, groaning when you finally tug them down.
the way you obey literally instantly, without any hesitation, makes his blood throb. especially as his cock comes free from his boxers, aching and leaking from the tip. precum oozes from the head, and he watches the way your eyes linger on him. "you ever touch a man like that before, sweetheart?"
"no," you shake your head, not sure what to do with your hands now. you're trying so hard not to look down between his legs, but it's practically impossible. a soft smirk settles on his lips and he hums, "never?"
"never," you agree quietly, your chest rising and falling in more picked up breaths. matt's intimidating in a gentle, caring way, if that makes sense. he's so much of those things that it's intimidating.
"m'gonna teach you. y'alright with that, honey? we ain't gotta do nothin' y'don't wanna do."
that makes you relax a lot more and you consider it, "nothin' i don't wanna do?" you confirm, and when he nods, you offer your hand. you notice how his eyes gleam almost instantly, and the speed in which he takes your hand into his. "there y'go," he says quietly, wrapping your hand around his shaft slowly. it twitches in your hand a little, and he lets out a throaty swallow. "wrap that pretty hand around me, that's it."
"like this?" you wanna do this perfectly for him, perfect. your fingers wrap around him, all gentle. he watches you for a minute, before he speaks up again.
"y'know how to give a man pressure, darlin'?" you're quiet for a moment, before you have a spark of confidence and tighten your grip on him ever so slightly, and he lets out a quiet, strangled moan from his throat. "like that?" your head cocks to the side a little, and he nods his head once more.
"just like that," his voice comes out deeper than he means for it to. the moment you start to stroke him, his head tips back a little and his lips part to let out a low sound. "keep at it, baby, just like that.." matt mutters, fingers brushing over your cheek gently.
as you start getting a hang of things, your hand pumps his cock a little faster and more proper. eyes lifting to his, you smile gently, a little proud one. he was proud of you too, really damn proud. "does it.. feel good?" does it feel good? 'course it fucking does.
"you're a natural, sweet," matt agrees quietly, hips stuttering a little towards your warm hand to try chase the pleasure you're giving him. a quiet grunt escapes him and he shifts his weight, chest rising and falling in quickened breaths too. the fact you're so eager makes his heart race, makes even more precum ooze from the tip and onto your hand.
he's quiet for a minute, before he mutters, tone lilted with gentle curiosity. "you wanna try somethin' else, baby? think you'd be a real natural at that too, hm?" he murmurs, an amused sound escaping him.
"mhm?" you look up at him, biting your bottom lip for a moment before you release it as your lips part. you search his gaze, and matt smiles, coaxing you to look at him properly. he looks down at you through his lashes, "open y'mouth for me.. look at you, doin' so well." your lips part, mouth open as soon as he asked.
his thumb drops to your bottom lip, brushing over it. you're so damn pretty, the way he looks you up and down making your stomach flutter almost instantly. he steps infront of you, letting the head of his cock brush against your lips gently. matt wraps his hand around his base, giving himself a few languid strokes. "keep that pretty mouth nice and open," he tells you, words soft.
your eyes fall down to his cock infront of your mouth, feeling his warmth so close to you, and a soft moan escapes you. when your hot breath hits his tip, his hips stutter forward a little bit instinctively. "tongue out," he watches you stick your tongue out and he gives himself a few more strokes, a quiet grunt slipping past his lips. "such a good girl. so damn good."
you look so good down there, eyes soft and curious as they search his. matt bites his lip for a minute, slowly tapping his cock against your inviting tongue. damn it, you look so good. so, so fucking good. letting his free hand come up to the back of your head, he brings you closer to him. "gonna put myself in, alright? don't worry. remember, okay? breathe through your nose, relax your mouth."
he watches as you do what he'd said, relaxing your mouth as best as you can. you're absolutely wracked with nerves, but he's making it easier for you, not as bad as you thought it'd be. matt's dying to feel the inside of your warm mouth. he's quiet for a minute, "don't have to take all of me, alright? take as much as you can," before he starts easing himself into your mouth, a shuddering breath slipping past his lips.
employing what he'd told you immediately, you relax your throat and mouth, starting to breathe through your nose as opposed to your mouth. "that's it, shit, there we go, darlin', pretty, pretty mouth.." you gag the tiniest bit, and he pauses, "you alright? want me to stop?"
"no, no, no, no—" you mumble around his throbbing length, and he lets out a quiet laugh.
"alright, alright, i got you," he eases himself further, till you tell him to stop. "there we go, takin' practically all of me, hm? that's it, relax.. don't wanna hurt you," matt coos, rubbing your cheek for a minute. perfect. you look absolutely perfect with his cock down your throat, and he has half a mind not to start thrusting into your mouth, but he's promised to teach you gently.
when you go to speak, he shakes his head, "ah, ah, no, honey, just.. just feel it for me, make me feel good," he slowly eases himself back, "gonna start moving, okay? tell me if you wanna stop." with that, and your nod which inadvertently bobs your head on him, he starts moving his hips back and forth. the length of his cock disappears between your lips with every thrust, a ring of saliva slowly forming around fhe base of his shaft. "doing so good, got a perfect mouth. never done this before, baby? i'd beg to fuckin' differ, shit.."
any nerves you had prior practically dissipate with how good he's reacting to what you're doing to him. his grip onnthe back of your head tightens, and he's grunting with his every thrust and bob of your head, his own falling back a little. "face of 'n' angel but mouth of a sinner... my god.." he whimpers quietly, his lips parted with his breaths.
if he could keep at this, he would, he really would. he'd use your mouth to get over the edge a million times and he'd cum all over you—your face, your.. he's getting a bit ahead of himself now, he knows. so he gently taps your cheek and pulls himself out for a moment, a grunt escaping him.
you look worried, confused, as if he didn't like it or had some critique. "was i—was i doing it wrong?" you look so genuinely upset that he has to quickly console you that no, he's fine, great, amazing even, and he just wants your warm cunt instead of your mouth.
"no, no, you're doing perfectly," you really are, he feels so fucking good. he fists his cock a few times, a shiver running down his spine before he gestures to you. "take those overalls off for me, alright?" you're so eager to, you practically rip off the buttons. you slip your overalls off your body and you know for a fact that matt likes the look of you, the sight of your lacy little bra and dainty panties clinging to your hips.
"c'mere, come.. c'mere," matt growls, practically lifting you from where you're sat as he looks around for somewhere to bend you over. he finds a hay bale, in which he unbuttons his shirt and lays it out so you don't get scratched up all that much by the hay. in seconds, he's got you bent over.
"wait, wait—" your words cause matt to stop instantly, fingers releasing the elastic of your panties. his eyes dart to yours, and he looks worried that he'd hurt you or something. "be gentle, please?" he relaxes almost instantly, and he smiles, "i got you, baby. i'll be gentle."
his hand smoothes over your ass, squeezing at it for a minute before he mumbles, "can i take this pretty pair off you, baby?" he sees how you're quiet for a minute before you nod, and he grins as he eases them off your soft thighs. the sight of your pretty, puffy pussy makes his dick throb between his thighs once more, twitching. a string of your arousal clings to your panties from your hole, and that only serves to make him want you more.
"please," you say quietly, weakly. matt hums quietly, letting his fingers ghost over your folds. he swipes a finger through your wetness, seeing whether he'd need to loosen you up for him. he knew you'd be tight but you were wet enough he could probably push right in without much resistance, if any at all. "yeah? need me?" he coos quietly, his hand slowly wrapping back around his cock as he slowly rubs himself against your cunt. the quiet, wet sounds your core makes makes him groan.
"hold on tight, okay? real tight for me," you grasp at the hay as best as you can, feeling it scratch at your hands a little. but the pleasure he's about to give you outweighs any thoughts of getting your hands a little scuffed. the feel of his tip pushing into your wet hole has your knees buckling beneath you, and he slides his free hand underneath you to hold you up. "matt," you whine out, quietly, and he coos, "i know, i know. feels big, huh? you feel tight, honey, so tight 'n' warm."
he pushes in slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you anymore than you already are. matt's eyes flutter shut for a second along with your own, when he bottoms out, and he grasps at your hips tightly with an almost bruising grip. "can i—"
"yeah, please, oh.. please.." well, if you're that eager. he rocks his hips back before he pushes himself back into you. you gasp out, grip on the hay tightening. he's so big, having to practically bully his cock into your pussy, because you're so damn tight too. matt's quiet but still vocal, grunting, groaning and faintly whimpering with every thrust of his hips.
you hiccup softly, "so good, oh, oh god," your chest rises and falls in heavy breaths, tits shaking beneath your sweet little bra, spilling from the lace. this catches matt's eyes immediately, and he smirks, sliding his hand under your chest and squeezing to hold you up. he swallows thickly, "you like that? yeah? feels good, i know, baby, mmh, yeah.." he squeezes your chest again, before he slides his hand down your side to hold onto your hips and squeeze again.
matt's thrusts pick up, hips smacking against yours with the sound of skin against skin echoing throughout the barn. the way you cry out, legs trembling, god, you're gorgeous. so, so damn pretty. "matt! matt, oh my god, mmh—ah.." he can tell you're getting closer from how the trembling in your legs picks up, and how your inner walls clench around him. he swallows hard, "you gonna come? yeah? all over me? that's it, give it to me, wanna feel it, fuck."
you're squealing, grasping tighter at the hay bale beneath you. his words only throw you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. he gasps shakily, feeling the way you squeeze around him so tight. he feels your release ooze down your thighs, and his too, and he growls shakily with each buck of his hips now. "gonna come, fuck, hold on, baby, hold on," he slowly pulls out of you, his fist flying to his cock as he pumps his hand quickly, whimpering under his breath with every stroke. "m'comin', shit, my god—that's it, yeah.." his abdomen tightens and eventually hot, white ropes of cum spurt out from his tip and coat your ass, dripping down your soft skin.
you look so pretty like that.
"you okay, baby? he asks gently, eyes meeting yours as he grasps at the hay bale, chest rising and falling in picked up breaths. when you glance up at him, all wide eyed and hazy, nodding, he knows you're okay, and wanting more. "feel so good," you admit, and you glance away for a second before meeting his gaze again. "want.. more."
"more?" matt's eyes rake over you for a second, and he nods, a hum escaping him. "turn around, i got you, honey. always got you."
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taglist / ⋆ ۪ @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @pettydollie, @dayzeandhaze, @dqzzlingsummer, @slut4chriss, @pillwebb, @https--roman, @amaris444, @yutafairy, @theognatster, @v33angel, @fxlklorelover, @mattsturnswhore, @sturncakez, @flouvela, @mattsdolll, @ifwdominicfike, @httqvi, @imyesterdaysproblem (some tags. didnt work my bad pooks)
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neiptune · 1 month
Text
to hell with the stars, keep shooting for the moon
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cw: 3k wc, female reader, established relationship, suggestive if you squint, reader is a gymnast, my entry for the super fun summer olympics collab by @tetzoro! hope you'll enjoy the little surprise i squeezed in hehe
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“For the last time, I’m not having sex with you on one of those cardboard beds”.
Atsumu isn’t the least bit discouraged by your exasperated scowl, which is met with a pout.
“But babe-”
“I don’t care how many times Tobio’s done it, ‘Tsumu” you click your tongue.
“It’s just so fucking bizarre that he gets so much action, the guy doesn’t even do anything! Shoyo agrees, we discussed it and still couldn’t find a reason” the blond, excessively petulant Miya who makes it a point to be the bane of your existence, keeps listing all the reasons why he believes his teammate shouldn’t be getting laid in the olympic village. Or anywhere else ever, for the matter.
The heated arguments float through a distant hemisphere of your brain, where they dissolve before you can quite catch their meaning and soon enough become simple sounds you’re passively absorbing, thoughts too preoccupied with something entirely different.
The choreographies you put together with your trainer have been playing in the back of your mind ever since last night, after the all-around individual qualification round. You are part of the 10 gymnasts with the highest scores, four performances with each apparatus earning a fairly decent ranking and good enough points. Well, they’re certainly good enough, given that you get to represent Japan at the individual final. But you just know they could be better. Your feet should’ve been firmer, hands less sweaty around the clubs, you should’ve stretched for at least 50 minutes prior to the routine instead of the usual 40 ones.
Pulse picks up in pace, heart thrumming faster against your ribcage, dizziness clouds your mind for a moment as different moves chase each other in rapid succession: the penché comes first, then follows the elbow stand, front walkover, one forward roll, a chest stand-
Gentle, calloused fingers grasp your chin and tilt your head upwards in silent demand. Look at me.
“Get out of there and talk to me, sugar” the fondness in his chocolate gaze is a balm that instantly soothes the churning sensation sabotaging your stomach.
“I won’t make it” it’s blunt, raw in its honesty “I’m too scared”.
“Ya worked your ass off the past four years. Your entire life actually”.
“I know”.
“And whatever happens, you’re one of the best ten gymnasts in the world”.
“I know”.
Atsumu gets closer as his hands hold your face now, gentle but firm, an all too familiar flame starts dancing in feverish eyes.
“But?”.
You recognize that gaze, the raging, febrile determination taking over. He gets it on his side of the net, where he gets to run the show. And oh, isn’t that always a sight for sore eyes? It certainly was at the olympics too, when the entire world got to witness what Japan is already used to. The game against Argentina was nothing short of glorious, the way Atsumu coordinated his team’s offense, established the entire tempo and overall built the confidence in his passers had the crowds chanting his name over and over again. By the evening, you’re positive at least a hundred new Miya Atsumu fan accounts had started following you on instagram.
And yet he doesn’t take any of it for granted. Atsumu always gives his very best, at the olympics or during regular training with his friends. Whether Tobio is going to play or not. That passion simply sets his soul ablaze at all times, with no exception. He’s the man you love and the only one who can truly understand how you feel, the one person who is ignited with the same delirious resolve currently burning in the pit of your stomach.
“But I really want that fucking medal” you whisper. Not to prove him that you have it in you just like he does: truth is you’re the only person who needs additional convincing.
Sharp canines make their appearance when Atsumu smiles widely.
“Then go get it. The hell are you scared of? That medal belongs to you”.
Your eyelids flutter as they fall shut, a deep breath filling your lungs with fresh air. When you open your eyes again, you feel your heart filling up with something else too.
“I love you”.
His eyes soften at that, affection pools within crinkles by the eyes as a confident grin morphs into a warm smile.
“Love ya more, champion” Atsumu kisses your forehead with tenderness, lingers for a moment too long with lips pressing to your skin with intention. Then he lets go of your face but not before searching for any remnants of self-doubt. His chest swells with pride when all he can find in your eyes is that determination he adores.
“Will you be there?” you ask because you can’t help it. It’s perfectly understandable that he might not be able to, his schedule is just as busy as yours and Japan’s final game is just two days away. It’s not entirely fair to ask and someone else might’ve rolled their eyes with a sigh, reminded you that they don’t get to decide that. But not Atsumu. He takes one of your hands and brings it to his lips to kiss each knuckle.
“I’ll do everything I can to be there”.
“Thank you” you lightly pinch his nose with an infatuated smile and he fakes a groan “see you later”.
“I love you!” he shouts as you run away, loud and obnoxious and passionate, just like his affection always is. Once again, Atsumu’s love is thrown over your shoulders like a comforting blanket that weighs just right.
Back at the beginning of your relationship, you had to unlearn a very specific thought process that posed the risk of ending something that still hadn’t had the chance to fully start. It was your first time dating another pro athlete, a very talented and quite renowned one no less. You were first introduced to him at a party, he had no idea who you were but of course you were all too familiar with his name and accomplishments.
Miya Atsumu was a pro volleyball player, known for his exceptional flair and fierce passion ever since high school. His reputation made you believe that, as an athlete yourself, you had to prove him that you were just as good in your own sport. Wasn’t that all he’d be interested in? Dating someone who wouldn’t embarrass him with their mediocrity, someone who wouldn’t stain his polished reputation?
Turns out, by no means Atsumu was interested in all that. He asked if it was okay for him to come watch one of your competitions, coincidentally one of your worst ones. You were all too aware of how badly you had competed, nerves and a recent flu contributing to a terrible performance, yet at the end of it Atsumu greeted you with stars in his eyes. He couldn’t stop talking about how elegant yet strong you looked, going as far as describing your choreographies as breathtaking. With a nervous chuckle, he half-jokingly said he couldn’t believe you’d let him date you. 
That’s when you kissed him for the first time, fiery and feverish in a way that would’ve probably scared anyone else off. Not Atsumu, though. He wrapped his arms around you without so much as an ounce of hesitation, kissed you back like it was the last action he was allowed to perform on this earth. And you knew: he didn’t need you to be a winner, to be shiny at all times, to feel proud. To love you. Whether you end up bringing the medal home or not, he will still be your biggest fan and loudest supporter.
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The intensity of the crowd doesn’t bother you at all: given your anxious nature, Chisaka-san has been adamant about training you with headphones and loud tapes for years. Music, cheers, booing, clapping, national anthems, you’re used to it all by now.
You observe the ukrainian gymnast, the way she moves so elegantly with her colorful ribbon. It looks like she’s flying, hopping on invisible steps made of air, sparkly leotard catching the light just right. Yours cost a fortune: handmade, sewn in Italy, a triumph of colorful stretch mesh, thermal crystals and sew-on rhinestones in various sizes and shapes.
As Chisaka-san helps you practice the usual deep breaths with a hand pressed to your chest, your eyes are still glued to your opponent. The podium is yours, unless you fuck up so badly even the bronze slips away. Daryna currently has the highest score and it’s certain she will protect the lead at the end of her final routine. Then follows Bulgaria’s Katerina, but you’re hardly worried about her: she finished her last exercise without catching the ribbon, a penalty you can easily overcome if luck and nerves are on your side.
When after an impeccable Daryna your name is announced at last, your trainer gives your butt a friendly, encouraging pat. She believed in you more than anyone else, more than yourself. She knew you’d qualify for the olympics and would be flying to Paris before you could even dream of such an achievement. And now you get to honor her trust, you get to prove that Paris is where you belong. The podium is yours because like hell you’re allowing it to slip away. But you want more, you want that gold.
The crowd seems louder now, flags raised in flashes of white and red in your peripheral as you smile radiantly and position yourself to start the routine. You don’t check if Atsumu was able to make it, don’t allow yourself to think of anything but the way your feet and legs and arms and hands are supposed to move.
The longest 85 seconds of your life begin along with the music, Piazzolla’s libertango but with a modern, energetic arrangement. The ribbon is not as scary as the hoop, it moves with you like an old friend, seamless and reliable. You throw the handle into the air and perform two forward rolls before catching it again in one fluid motion, lips perpetually stretched into a confident smile. The crowd erupts in deafening cheers at your backscale pivot, the more you keep cutting through the air with precision, control and passion, the more your smile grows. Yes, this is where you belong, this is what you love and were made to do.
There’s your signature move, difficult and risky and one Chisaka-san always attempts to talk you out of: a technical element, Bessonova’s swan, while simultaneously kicking the ribbon into the air with your foot once more. You catch it one last time, perform an aerial cartwheel and then a perfectly balanced backward somersault, wrap yourself in the colorful shades of your apparatus and gracefully conclude the routine on the floor.
The crowd is ear-splitting in their support and you don’t have to wait for the score to know: it was perfect. It’s the best you ever did and the tension finally melts into hot tears as you wave and smile and foolishly attempt to wipe the wetness from your cheeks at the same time. Chisaka-san wraps you up in her comforting embrace and you hide your face in her white uniform, ears ringing, blood scorching in veins throbbing with adrenaline.
“I can’t look” you whisper into her shoulder and she gently guides you to the bench, all emotional murmurs and soft touches. She sits next to you, holds your hand as you force a quivering smile to the camera, peace sign held high. And then you can barely catch a glimpse of your scores before Chisaka-san forces you into her arms and against her chest again, right as fresh tears stain your cheeks. She lets you have this moment, shields your first reaction from the world and the prying eyes of cameras that are on you once more because holy shit, Daryna has a 140.60 but you have a 142.850. They gave you a difficulty score of 19.300 and an execution one of 8.550.
“I knew it!” Chisaka-san is the only thing keeping you grounded because it truly feels as if you’re floating. It doesn’t matter how badly you wanted it, how much you fought for it, the moment doesn’t feel real. Not even as the other gymnasts come to hug you and you congratulate them in turn, it’s a whirlwind of all-encompassing love and support and mutual happiness. Moments like this make your sport truly special, they remind you that fierce competition only feels right when balanced by appreciation for your opponents’ efforts and individual journeys.
The crowd erupts in new, loud cheering and you catch a glimpse of the different face the cameras are now focusing on. A handsome face with suspicious dampness glistening on cheeks and a smile so warm, beaming with pride. You can’t help but smile back as your legs move on autopilot, a bottle of water dropped to the floor as you sprint towards the bleachers. Atsumu is in the front row and he easily catches you right as you jump onto him, arms wrapped around his neck.
“Told ya. It belongs to you” he whispers in your ear and you almost start crying again at the trembling in his voice, so many overwhelming emotions swarming in your chest at once.
“Thank you for believing in me” you mutter and pull back to look at him, because even in a venue packed with people and cameras and journalists he still manages to be the brightest, the one thing you could look at forever without ever growing tired of it.
“Always” Atsumu grins, eyes glazed with defiant tears “you did so well. Look at ya, my girl’s an olympic medalist!”.
And because you know he won’t do it, god forbid he takes the most special moment of your life away from you, you kiss him. It’s brief, two pecks that linger just enough before he lets you go, urges you to go back out there and celebrate. You don’t care that videos of this moment are probably going to be flooding every social media platform in a matter of minutes, similarly to how Atsumu hardly gives a damn about all the phones and cameras he has in his face when he runs to you after a game, whether his team wins or not.
It’s hard not to tear up again as the japanese national anthem echoes through the building, so many people singing along as you stand on the podium you have dreamed of every single day of your life. You smile, proud and big, take selfies with the other two medalists and make sure you hug every single gymnast you come across goodbye before walking out of the venue, a promise to catch up with your trainer in the evening.
Atsumu waits for you outside, he doesn’t have any additional training left for the day and you want nothing more than to walk back to the village with him, lovesick smile growing in size when you spot him underneath the afternoon sun, golden light caught beautifully in that honey blond hair.
“There she comes, the girl of my dreams” he coos and you roll your eyes with affection “I hear she’s now the greatest gymnast in the world, too!”.
“Corny” you murmur against his lips as he pulls you in for a real kiss, one of those you’re never willing to give him in front of the cameras.
“About those cardboard beds…” it’s a faint whisper into his mouth but it’s enough for Atsumu to pick you up and twirl until you’re both laughing between kisses, until someone clearing their throat prompts you to abruptly pull back and force your feet onto the ground again.
When you turn around, the embarrassed smile quickly grows into a surprised grin. The stranger is looking back at you with the faintest hint of a smirk and Atsumu isn’t entirely sure he loves the way you take a tentative step toward him.
“Congrats. It was a good routine, not your best though”.
“Oh my god” you chuckle, astonished, and Atsumu is now certain he doesn’t enjoy watching you run to hug this weird, 6’1 stranger with dark hair and teal eyes. He definitely doesn’t enjoy the way the stranger wraps his arms around you with a sigh.
“I should’ve known you’d be here! How long has it been? Look at you, all grown up!” you let him go, still smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
“Too long” he concedes and if the stranger wasn’t still all caught up in old, familiar patterns of stubborn coldness, maybe he would be able to utter the truth about how much he’s missed one of his oldest friends.
“I missed you” as usual, you take it upon yourself to fill the spaces left empty by his obstinacy with warmth. His eyes soften and you smile again as you turn to look at your boyfriend.
“’Tsumu, c’mere!” you’re holding out a hand, an impatient invitation “come meet Rin!”
Atsumu is openly wary of your friend, one you’re obviously close enough to address by his first name. As he shakes his hand with a fake megawatt smile, Rin seems to be equally skeptical and does nothing to hide it.
“He’s your boyfriend?” he asks, briefly scanning Atsumu from head to toe with an openly dubious gaze “came all the way here just to support you?”
“Atsumu is a pro volleyball player, he’s in the national team just like you!”
“Volleyball, huh?” Rin cocks his head “doesn’t really interest me. I find it to be overrated”.
“I mean…”.
“And what would your sport be, Itoshi?” Atsumu can feel a vein throb on his forehead as he politely interrupts you.
“Soccer”.
“Oh!” a seemingly friendly laugh bubbles up from his throat but you recognize the petulant vibration to it “soccer! I think there’s only so long you can watch a player throw himself on the ground because he stubbed his toe on the grass or, I don’t know, try the same failed corner kick for the millionth time”.
You uncomfortably clear your throat and Rin directs his attention to you once more. Isn’t that what being a mature adult is all about? Ignoring pretentious assholes he doesn’t even know?
“I mean it, by the way. You deserve that gold more than anyone else I know”.
“C’mon, say it” you chuckle “I know you noticed”.
He mirrors your smile, pleased that the familiarity strengthened by years of friendship is still here.
“Barely catched that ribbon in the end, could’ve made that front walkover less stiff. Good job overall, though”.
Atsumu wants to punch him in the goddamn face, especially as you laugh once more.
“How come he’s so familiar with gymnastics?” he asks instead.
“Rin used to come watch my training sessions back in high school, although it’s insane to me that he still remembers!”.
“She never missed any of my trainings either” Rin smirks once more, gaze locked to the man in front of him.
“Speaking of!” you lightly smack his arm “when are you guys playing?”.
“Tomorrow. I can arrange special seats if you want”.
“Oh, I’d love to come! We should totally go, ‘Tsumu!”.
“Yeah, totally” Atsumu forces another smile onto his lips.
That night, as you’re cuddled against his chest on that infuriatingly uncomfortable cardboard bed, he believes it’s of the utmost importance to share the picture of you with an adorable smile and the medal around your neck as you stand proudly on that podium, followed by the two of you kissing right after your win.
miyatsumu the most hardworking person I know. my golden girl, now an olympic champion ❤️🥇
He thinks it’s a good caption and, as you softly snore in the quiet of the dark room, Atsumu also believes he’s in a mood good enough to decide not to block Shoyo on the spot after receiving his stupidly enthusiastic text about befriending some super nice dude on the national soccer team.
Whoever the hell Isagi Yoichi is anyway.
364 notes · View notes
little-lost-lamb · 5 months
Text
The Sting of Envy
CW: GN!MC, hurt/comfort, angst, occult practice, fluff, mention of kids (kinda?), Demons Being Overall Taller Than Humans On Average, Asmo's part is suggestive, and - of course - jealousy. Please let me know if there is anything I didn't think to add!
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Of course you moved in with Solomon when you went back to the human realm. It only made sense; it’s a big realm after all, and you needed to be close to your teacher. To your demons, however, it was a decision that they did not like to think about. Would Solomon try something funny? What did you do together? Did you enjoy a level of domestic human bliss your demons could only dream of? Or were you largely independent of each other?
They’d probably be delusional if they thought this wasn’t right, that this isn’t where you actually belong. Safe, happy, with other humans. With Solomon. But your demons miss you desperately.
So when you invite everyone to a Beltane party to break in yours and Solomon’s new place together, even Barbatos arranges to ensure he and Diavolo can attend. No one would dare turn it down. Even if it results in envy eating away the very muscle of their hearts.
_____________________________________________________________
Lucifer
His head is swimming from glass number…2…3? He had lost count of how many glasses of red wine he had drunk at this point, but certainly more than intended. How could he not? He had to drink to try to quell the emptiness he felt seeing you thrive here, without him. Don’t get him wrong, there’s pride in this as well - he’s always proud of you. So Proud. How independent you are here. You’re so capable, so strong. You don’t need him to protect you like he did in the Devildom.
As much as he would never admit it, he adored that dependency you had with him. But not here. This is your home, your domain. What hurts the most is that, if you do need help here, you won’t be summoning him - not unless it’s something very important. You’ll call Solomon. Your roommate. He can’t bear to think of this arrangement as anything but plutonic. But he wants you to know you can lean on him for anything.
The alcohol impedes his ability to bury these emotions in the backyard of his brain. They’re inescapable. He feels the familiar sting of tears threatening to form on his lash line. You don’t need him.
“Lucifer, I need you!” 
What? 
“Can you come here for a moment? I can’t reach this serving dish.” 
He stumbles slightly from the wine as he shuffles into your kitchen and watches as you balance unsteadily on one foot, reaching helplessly and futilely at a dish perched on the top shelf. Lucifer’s eyes flit back to Solomon, his nose in his own wine glass, chuckling obliviously at some joke form Asmodeus. He saunters to your side, almost huffing. 
“Why don’t you ask Solomon? It is his home after all.” he says, more pointedly than intended.
“Huh? Are you kidding? Look at this cabinet! He’s taller than I am, but he’s still an average-sized human. He can’t reach up here either. We usually have to get a ladder or use magic. I know you can reach it easily though. C’mon, or are you really going to make me go get the ladder when you’re right here?”
Lucifer sighs and shakes his head, but he can’t hide the prideful curve of his lips. He approaches you from behind, softly resting one hand on your  waist  as he effortlessly grabs the dish and sets it gently down on the counter in front of you.
“Besides,” You lean your weight back into him, craning your neck back to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “I would rather you be the one to help me. I’ll always come to you for help when I need it.”
He blinks rapidly a few times, fighting the sting of his lash line once more as he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the warmth of your neck
“Say it again.”
Mammon
“I have a little Beltane gift for you, MC.” Mammon’s ear perks up as overhears Solomon talking about gifts. It had better not be cooler than mine, he thinks, thumbing over his own gift for you hidden in his pocket. 
He can’t help but to peek around the corner to check out this inferior gift of Solomon’s. Mammon immediately feels put to shame by the presentation alone. The box is wrapped in brown paper, twine, and pressed human realm wildflowers, probably picked by Solomon himself. Fuck.
“Oh, no, I wish I had known!” Your brow furrows as you look up at Solomon. “I...didn’t get you anything.”
“Unnecessary.” Solomon assures you. “It��s nothing big, just something I noticed you needed.”
You smile at him and shyly open the gift, carefully handling the flowers and setting them aside to keep. Instead of an expression of delight at the box’s contents, your face falls into an expression that can best be described as guilt. 
“Solomon, I…this is so nice. Too nice. I couldn’t possibly accept something like this without having gotten you anything!” 
Humble as ever, Mammon thought, as you pulled out a new pair of leather boots. They seemed cool, well-made, designer. Not that you ever really cared about that stuff. You were modest and practical, and Mammon admired you for it. He wished he could be like you in this way. Of course, he could never turn down free designer boots. 
“MC. I have had 3000 years for my fortune to collect interest. I can absolutely afford to replace your boots - which you have worn the soles out of, by the way. Don’t think I didn’t notice. You needed new ones. Please allow me this.” Solomon softly grasped your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Mammon felt like he had been punched in the gut. “Interest” is a concept barely comprehensible to him. More familiar concepts are: “debt,” and “overdraft.” Broke. He wished he could give you anything - everything. He would spend every cent he had to adorn you in the most stylish clothes, the comfiest shoes, the shiniest jewels. He'd take you on luxurious vacations, just the two of you, to the most romantic locations in the demon realm. He would spoil you rotten. But he couldn’t - not like Solomon could. Solomon, who lives here, in this modest home with you, living like he doesn’t have a royal fortune on reserve somewhere (somewhere Mammon desperately wished he could get his hands on.) Solomon, who doesn’t waste every grimm he has gambling and splurging until he is broke enough to wait tables in a seductive bunny outfit and appease giggling, gawking beings who are not you.
Suddenly, the baggy in his pocket felt like a boulder. In actuality, the baggie’s contents are lightweight, small, and…free. But he’ll be damned to the circles before he gives up an opportunity to spoil you. 
He waits for a rare moment when you are alone, preparing something in the kitchen for the party, then he makes his move.
“MC.” 
You turn to him as he calls you, your face lighting up by his mere presence. And of course you would be happy by the presence of the Great Mammon, your first man. And maybe that would count for something when you open his gift, paling in comparison to the one just presented by Solomon. His cheeks tinge as he holds out the bag, rubbing the back of his neck shyly with his free hand. 
“Here. For you. Think of it as a gift for the host.”
“Oh, Mamms! You didn’t have to do thi-...” You’re rendered silent as you pull out a delicate, homemade bracelet. Your smile again drops, but this time it morphs into an expression of awe. You inspect it closer, sliding the colorful beads of a friendship bracelet until you reach letters.
T - R - E - A - S - U - R - E
“Mammon…”
“I-It ain’t  much! I know it ain’t, not what ya deserve, but… My luck was lousy at the track this weekend. I didn’t have much left, but I still wanted to get ya somethin’. Borrowed some stuff from Levi. He makes things like this for his “faves, waifus, husbandos,” or whatever, and he wears ‘em to think about ‘em.  I thought maybe…you could do that t-...”
Suddenly the wind is knocked from his lungs as you throw yourself at him, flinging your arms tight around his waist.
“I love it. I love it so much. I’m going to wear it every day we’re apart. Would you put it on for me?”
Mammon makes no effort to hide his satisfied grin. He slides on your homemade friendship bracelet, made with all the love in his heart, while the expensive new boots Solomon gifted you lay untouched in the box next to your shoe rack.
Leviathan
It’s too much. It’s all too much. Levi groans and clenches his stomach, the discomfort on his face apparent.
“I…ugh…I’ll be back. Where’s the bathroom?” Levi quickly darts in the direction Solomon casually points as Asmodeus calls after him, frustration in his tone. “I told you not to eat the leftover rainbow pizza when you knew we were about to come here to eat!”
“Yeah,” chimed Beel, “I wanted it to tide me over until dinner.” Beel clenched his own stomach, though likely feeling a different kind of discomfort than Leviathan. Levi doesn’t look back as he storms into the bathroom and slams the door behind him.
“Hey! Easy!” he hears Solomon’s muffled scorn, but he doesn’t care. Not when he is in so much agony. 
“It hurts, fuck…” He clenches the lip of the sink, desperately trying to control himself. And it would be so much easier if everyone else could get it together. Every one of them, he felt all of it; every one of them, all at once, seething with envy. The air was practically miasmic with it, and he had to feel the envy of all. of. them. His own was unbearable enough. He raised his face to the mirror, examining his red-tinged sclera and furrowed brows. Then something more interesting catches his tearing eyes.
No. No no no. Are you kidding him? Toothbrushes. Two toothbrushes, one no doubt Solomon’s…and one yours. The mug they’re in, is that…a Disney World cup? Did he take you to DISNEY WORLD?? The cute, fantastical mouse-themed amusement park in the human world? Where you wear matching outfits and hold hands and ride ridES AND BUY MERCH AND EAT JUNK FOOD AND…
He could feel himself hyperventilating until he finally lost control of his human form, his tailing unfurling and his horns erupting from his messy hair. 
He wanted to go to the mouse park with you! HIM! He wanted to share a toothbrush cup and home and host a dinner for his family with you! IT SHOULD BE HIM!!! 
Before his mind even knew what his body was doing, he found himself curling pathetically up into your bathtub. He spotted a pink bottle of something on the edge, and as he rested his head against the porcelain, he caught a whiff of the gloopy substance inside. It was shampoo. It smelled like you. And Solomon got to smell it every day.
It was the last thing he needed to send him over the edge. The anger of the envy he felt fizzled up all at once, leaving nothing but the despair. He choked out a muffled sob, one he futilely tried to catch with his hand before it fell through his fingers. He curled up tighter around himself and sobbed softly, just begging that no one hear him.
Knock knock knock knock.
He ignores it. That is, until he hears the door gently open. He seriously forgot to lock the door?! Way to go, Levi!
“Levi.” You step in and close the door behind you, looking at him sympathetically. There isn’t an ounce of surprise on your visage seeing him curled up in the tub. “What’s going on?”
He hides his face again, hoping you didn’t see his tear stained cheeks. Suddenly, he feels you step into the porcelain, lay down, and wrap yourself around him.
“I’m sorry it’s not very clean in here. I didn’t really expect any of you to go into the tub.” You squeeze him ever so much tighter. “You’re hurting me, did you realize that?”
“I…what?”
He flinches as you curl down the waist of your pants - just enough for his pact mark to peak out from the waistband. The skin around the sigil is red and agitated, as if it had been freshly branded onto you all over again. His mark, as he knew well, was the biggest you had, enveloping your hip and thigh. After Mammon greedily claimed the space over your heart, his jealousy made sure his was the biggest one you’d ever have. He watches you wince slightly as you pull the band back up over your stomach and feather your fingers over your thigh. 
“It’s hurting my heart too. To feel you hurting like this.”
“Disney.”
“…Disney?”
Levi sighs and hesitantly glances at you from his periphery.
“Everyone is so jealous right now. All of them. Even Barbatos! It’s suffocating me. They’re probably jealous of you being here, living with Solomon, and him having you all to himself. He’s shady, who knows what he’ll try! And I’m jealous too, you know! Of course I am! And then…then I saw your toothbrushes. And your cup. You must have gone together. And I want to go with you…” 
His voice fades to a whisper, every ounce of his energy sapped by the envy radiating within the house. You are quiet for a moment.
“Do you know why he took me?”
 Levi barely cared, but he listened anyway. 
“Barbatos stopped by one day. He had some kind of business with Three Crows and took the opportunity to say hello. He mentioned that Diavolo and you guys were all at Devilcat Land that day. After Barb left, I was so sad, wishing I could have been there with everyone. With you.”
This got Levi’s attention, and he huffs out a short burst of disbelieving laughter.
“We had to leave early because I started crying on the teacups. It made me think about that time,” you interrupt yourself with an involuntary chuckle, "that you spun our cup so fast that Lucifer threw up! The Avatar of Pride! Spun a little too fast and threw up in a Devilcat trash can!” 
Levi softens, laughing with you, his grip around you tightening.
“Don’t be jealous.” You press a soft, sweet kiss against his lips, wet with tears. “Because I miss you every day.”
Satan
He knew he must have mirrored Lucifer’s body language, brooding over his glass of red wine, but he was too mad to care. Maybe “mad” wasn't precise. His eyes went to Levi, his face contorted with some sort of discomfort and clutching his stomach. Asmodeus made  a comment about Levi’s upset stomach, but Satan was too emotionally intelligent to believe it was his lunch from earlier that ails him: he must be overwhelmed by everyone’s envy.  Levi’s. The rest of his brothers’. Satan’s.
Satan kept it hidden well, of course. It was what he did constantly and what he did best - keeping his emotions in check. His expression had yet to falter and his tail remained concealed as he perused the selection of your bookshelf. He allowed himself a subtle smile, seeing some of the books he had loaned you. He spies a few books that seem like human realm bestsellers he didn’t recognize, but he hoped you’d loan him later if they were any good. He trusted your taste in literature. A few magical reference books, and…oh please… The Lesser Key of Solomon. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. How pompous to have a copy of your own book in your own house. He could feel his irritation rising.
“MEOW.”
His head immediately snaps to the source of the familiar sound. A small, adorable, yellow cat prances right up Solomon, nuzzling his precious fluffy face on his leg. Solomon shifts his attention to the cat and scritches his chin. “Oh! There you are.”
Satan’s head goes fuzzy, his ears buzz, and his heart practically drops into his feet. This was it.  He felt the barbs of his tail flick against his ankle and fortunately had the wherewithal to wrap it around his leg before it hurt someone. He stares, jaw hanging, mouth agape. You have a cat together.
“You…have a cat together…” His tone is somewhere between a question and a statement. The displeasure is now apparent on his face. 
They have a cat together.
“No!”  Satan is grounded by your cry and the thunder of legs pattering down the stairs. “He was supposed to be a surprise!” You hurry down in a frazzled state and scoop the cat up into your arms.
“Tch. He’s not my cat.” Solomon finally teases. “He’s mostly MC’s. We found him wandering outside soon after we moved in here. Ask MC what they named him. I wanted to name him Abraham.” 
Still, Solomon stares fondly at the cat, and holds his paw between his thumb and index fingers. For a moment, it almost sounded like Solomon’s tone had a hint of jealousy of its own. You carry the bundle of fluff over to Satan. You give the kitty a loving kiss on the forehead before passing him to Satan’s oh-so-eager arms. Satan runs a finger over the cat’s green collar until he finds the name tag. He flips over the little silver fish to reveal the cat’s name.
Satan Jr.
The flush on Satan’s cheeks creep across his entire face, ears and all. 
“I know Lucifer won’t let you keep one, not after the incident. I thought, maybe…he could be our cat. And, you know, mostly live with me. But still!”
Satan peered down wide-eyed at the bundle of fluff, already so comfortable in his arms. Satan Jr.? Theirs?? It felt almost like…this cat was their child. In an instant, every ounce of fury that had built up in his body was transmuted to bliss. He arranged Satan Jr. in his arms so he was pressed against his chest, caressing him like he might his own spawn.
“Then I suppose we have a cat together.”
He tried to play it cool, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the unbridled joy on his face and the brightness in his smile.
Asmodeus
He is definitely seeing something he shouldn’t - but he can’t look away.
It’s perhaps one of the most beautifully surreal scenes he’s witnessed since his time in the Celestial Realm, yet it’s so unapologetically human.
He had initially been drawn to the sound of your sweet voice, singing as clear as crystal rims in the echoes of the kitchen while you watched over the honey cakes in the oven. He was pulled in as if it were a siren’s song, but it wasn’t. It was beautiful you. 
He stopped himself from joining you when he heard Solomon’s voice, equally beautiful and equally moving, begin to duet your own. 
Perhaps the song had started one day as one of you overhearing the other, recognizing the melody, and clumsily singing along. Now, however, it was like some kind of hauntingly beautiful mating call between two human lovers. Your voices were intertwined, complimenting each other, rehearsed. You two must have sung this together often.
Asmodeus couldn’t help but peek at his two favorite humans in the kitchen, but now he almost wishes he hadn’t. 
Because what he sees when he peers in is the two of you, dancing slowly and softly together as you sing your beautiful melody to each other. Solomon smiles and stares lovingly into your eyes as your cheeks flush and you sing your line. The adoration in Solomon’s gaze is unmistakable. His hand in your hand, Solomon softly rocks you to the music the two of you create together. The golden hour sun lights up every single color on your irises and peppers your skin with the rainbows from the suncatchers you’ve hung in the kitchen window. 
From the open window pours a warm spring breeze that lifts your hair to dance in the currents, and assaults Asmodeus’ face with the sweet scent of spring flowers and…you. 
It is ethereal. 
To see such beauty completely removed from himself begins to arouse envy in his chest. This kind of beauty is unique to humanity, and he cannot be a part of it. But it is not you he is envious of.
Asmodeus loved Solomon. He did. But he had felt the kind of love he feels with Solomon before and will likely feel it again. You, though. You. You made him experience that agony and euphoria of being in love. A feeling he thought he was completely incapable of. Until you.
But if his favorite humans were mates, then…that made sense right? You make sense together. And Asmodeus could have his pick of anyone else in the three realms. Maybe he could even convince the two of you to let him in on things. So why did it hurt so much?
“Apologies, darling apprentice, but I saw your grimoire open this morning. You’re working on a Beltane ritual, yes?”
The singing stopped, but Solomon’s grip on you remained. Asmo could still hear Solomon’s voice despite his hushed tone, because he could pick up the tone of seduction anywhere. While ordinarily Asmodeus would appreciate the game, the honey in Solomon’s words to you made him sick. 
Even as a human realm holiday, Asmodeus had heard of Baltane. This one, after all, was adjacent to his domain: a holiday of flames, fertility, and…
“I could help, if you’d like me too. We can even jump over the flame together this year. Wouldn’t that be fun? Then, once we prepare, we can perform the ritual.” Though Solomon whispers against your ear, Asmodeus can faintly make out Solomon purring, “Sex magic is very powerful.”
And with that, Asmodeus was gone. He’d already seen too much. 
After dinner, as Asmo shoved his arm through the white, leather sleeve of his jacket to leave, he wondered how he could distract himself from yours and Solomon’s…ritual…later. Perhaps he could find someone at The Fall to drown his sorrows in. After all, it’s not like you and Asmo were exclusive. You could fuck whoever you wanted and he wouldn’t care, he lied to himself. He’s shaken from his jealous slurry of thoughts by a warm hand on his forearm.
“Asmo, wait!”
He takes a deep breath before turning to face you. “I had a great time tonight, hun, thanks for inviting us! I have to get going, but-“
“I need your help with a ritual tonight!” 
Your cheeks flush and your eyes sparkle as you look at him. You’re projecting an air of shyness, but Asmodeus can smell it in your pheromones, no mistake. Lust. You were simply adorable. “P-please.”
Ah, interesting. So the ritual wasn’t meant to be performed with Solomon. It never was. How embarrassing for Solomon. Amusement dances in his eyes thinking about you rejecting his advance mere moments after he had walked away. Solomon would be spending the night of Beltane alone, while Asmo…
The corners of Asmodeus’ mouth curl into a dangerous smile and he gently pulls you into him by your hips.
“It’s Beltane, is it not? What kind of ritual could you need me for, darling?”
You’re silent a moment, the blush dusting your cheeks deepening by the second. “It’s Beltane.” You respond.
“Well, well…” You could practically see the hearts in his eyes just before he gently pulled your mouth to his, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. He murmurs against your lips in a deep, seductive tone, “Blessed Beltane.”
Part 2 ->
414 notes · View notes
crxshed-skxlls · 1 year
Note
Hiiii I'm being anon since I've never done a request before and I'm mildly embarrassed about it KJHFUIOG
do you think you could do something with eyeless jack? either just nsfw hcs or even a fic! i guess to add any suggestions for a fic maybe ej breaking into the reader's home? Could also have dub-con and breeding elements to it if you'd like! Though you can do whatever! ^^ (also gn reader if that's ok!)
OVERALL THOUGH I've been enjoying reading your content n stuff so far and ty for reading this even if you don't do the idea! :D
Word count:
Ooo very intriguing request. Don't worry Anon, your sins are my command 🙏 (my apologies if this isn't the best; it's my first time writing with a gn!reader)
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— ❝ Home Invasion
Eyeless Jack x Gn!reader
Word count: 2k+
Plot: You were having an ordinary night, slowly slipping into your bed to a sweet slumber. Little did you know, an unwelcoming visitor gives you a sinful surprise.
NSFW tags: Dubcon, breeding, mating press, knife play, primal elements, bloodplay, biting, implied voyuerism, praise, Masochism elements
Credits for MDNI divider
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It was a dark, brisk night. The cold air of the night tickles for body as you lay in your bed. You lay peacefully bliss to your surroundings as you slip into a slumber, your breathing slow as you sigh. You had a long day, and you were ready to get some shut-eye. However, you had been tossing and turning from the uncomfortable chill of the room. You feel a subtle presence in your room, like prying eyes watched you, but you thought it was your anxieties about the dark night. It took a little while, but you finally slip out of consciousness, eyes fluttering shut as you slip away. 
Though, your gut told you right. A dark figure lurked out your window, careful not to draw attention to him. His features muted except for his cobalt blue mask with signature black eye holes. He watches you toss and turn, only for you to lose consciousness. He licked his lips as he prowls, silently opening your window you so obliviously forgot to lock. He lifts the frame with a click sound, quietly stepping into your room. You flinch in your sleep as you hear the subtle shift of your window closing, turning to where your back pressed into your mattress. 
Jack looks around, silently slipping to your bed. He looks down at you, his soulless sockets peering onto your sleeping form. He grabs the corner of your plush blanket, slipping the cloth off of your form. You mumble something in your slumber, shifting in your sleep. Jack has watched you many times before, knowing how much of a heavy sleeper you are. The noirette continued his prowl, getting on top of you gently. He straddles your hips, looking down at your figure with a small grunt. He licks the dried blood from his stained teeth as he slips your shirt up slightly, revealing your abdomen with ease.
You shutter under the taller being, humming as his hand traces your stomach. Jack soon takes out his knife, examining the thin blade made for incisions. Jack groans quietly as his stomach fills with a familiar warmth, the uncomfortable fabric sticking to his growing member. The uttered thought of watching you so vulnerable made his head reel with sinful thoughts. It wasn't long before your eyes start to flutter, which made Jack tense. Your eyes open quickly as you see the unwanted stranger, though there was a sharp feeling to your neck before you dare utter a word. Jack keeps his knife to your throat, leaning in to your face slightly. Your adrenaline made you wide awake as he traces the blade faintly on your skin, making tears prick your terrified eyes. 
Jack smirks at your body's reactions, his head tilting to the side. You watch as his soulless eyes prey upon your form. You shiver, closing your eyes. He let's out a small a chuckle, tracing the blade down to your chest. You don't dare utter a word, the silence filling up the air. It wasn't long until his grim voice spoke, his voice in a rough tone. 
" You're pretty for prey, don't you know? "
He breathes, letting the blade snag at your shirt. He watches as some of the cloth rips under the blade, making you shiver under his grasp. You feel your body become a little flush under the compliment, his rough voice melting at your scared thoughts. You want to shake him off, tell him to stop, but this was something you had been anticipating for a while. It was a weird fantasy of yours that not a lot of people understood, but you thought it was arousing with the unexpectedness that lingered around the thought of a break in. Jack interrupts your thoughts as you hear a tear sound, noticing the blade tear halfway down your shirt. It revealed your collarbones and part of your chest, making the man bite his lip under his mask.
" You're body structure is in great proportions, you know? Great for me to take in.. "
" Why are you doing this? "
You say in a hushed whisper, your soft voice ringing in his ears. It wasn't long until you realized the surprise in Jack's pants however, feeling it throb against his clothing. He pauses his movements, looking at your face. It wasn't long before he lifts a part of his mask with a dark chuckle. Your eyes widen at the inhuman features, his sharp teeth visible in his grin. His grayish features shimmered in the moonlight, dried blood visible on his face. Your hands ball into fists as he leans into your neck.
" Simple. You caught my eye from a greater distance, love. Ever since, it's been hard not to think about how lovely you would look tainted in your own blood. "
His soft tone as he explains to you was both frightening and arousing. The way his words coaxed you in an uncomfortable arousal left you to whimper under him. You never knew such an intruder that had a soft side to his words. You gasp as you feel his tongue lap at your neck, pressing in all the right places.
" Be good for me.. And you might walk off with your organs in tact. Understood? "
" M- mhm.. "
You nod and stiffen under his words, letting out a hushed moan as his tongue traces your collarbones. Jack grunts as he gets between your legs, hungrily nipping at your neck with his teeth. You moan out as you feel his erection press against your sensitive crotch, making him smile on your neck. You yelp suddenly as you feel a sharp pain signal down your spine. Your hands instinctively tug at Jack's back, feeling his sharp teeth bite harshly into your soft skin. He moans at your cries, listening curiously as they turn into moans. As his teeth release from your neck, he laps out the thick blood that spilled out.
It wasn't deep enough to hit an artery or anything, but it definitely was deep. You moan at the twinges of pain, gripping the figure's Hoodie. Jack moans as well, pulling up slightly. Your tear glazed eyes were able to make out the messy blood on Jack's lips, making your face flush a little red. Jack grins at your figure, licking his lips. You shiver tenderly as you watch him lick the blood off his lips.
" I didn't realize you were a such a masochist now.. After all, there's only so much I can see from your windows. "
You gulp as tears spill from your face, panting from the twinges of want and need. You knew this was crazy, the back of your mind berated you for wanting such a monster. However your body clouded any sane thought your brain could come up with. The way he teased and admitted to watching you made you squirm slightly, feeling a little more nervous if anything. You soon get snapped into reality as Jack takes off your pants, along with your undergarments. You squirm more, your hands shifting to Jack's chest as you slightly push. Jack let's out a guttural growl, his eyes piercing into your gaze. You gulp as you watch his blade come up to your neck again, making you whimper out as your hands fall down onto your mattress.
" What happened to being good, huh? "
Jack comments, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. You shiver with uncertainty, but as soon as Jack makes a small incision on your chest makes you moan out in surprise. You hiss from the twinge of pain, but Jack just chuckles at you. He licks at the small cut, making you moan out again in a more pleasurable tone. You soon hear an unzipping sound, making you tremble slightly under Jack. You knew what was coming, and there was no point for your aching body to fight back. You feel as Jack sighs in a somewhat relief, letting his member spring from his denim jeans. You audibly gasp as his cock hits your abdomen teasingly, looking at the sheer size made you flush a deep red. 
" Awwh, like what you see darling? "
Jack snickers at your actions as you watch his cock twitch. He soon positions himself to your hole, pressing the tip to your ass. You look up at Jack with a doe eyed expression, earning a groan from the man. You soon yelp out as you feel Jack slam into you with one strong push, causing twinges of pain and pleasure to fill your body. Jack growls as you clench to his length, using one of his hands to stabilize himself. You feel him slowly pull about halfway out of you, just for him to thrust back into you. You both moan out as he sets a rough pace.
" F- fuck- "
" Yeeah, tha- hah- that's right. Take it. "
You hear Jack mutter out loud as you feel his  dick press into all your sweet areas, causing you to shamelessly moan. He growls almost animalistically as he slams into you, moving to your neck to bite into the same mark he left on your skin. You yell out with breathy moans and pleas for more, but Jack continues to lick and suck at the blood that taints your tender skin. You tremble under him as you feel your body reaching a climax, whimpering out as he thrusts into you. You hitch your breath as Jack hooks your shaky legs to his shoulders, borrowing his dick deep inside of you. You let out moans and mewls as he aims for all your sweet spots, your back arching as you press against him. It wasn't long before you end up coming onto him, choking out more moans. Jack groans as your body tenses around him, earning you a stifled laugh from him.
" Awwh f- uck– you really think were- ngh- done yet? "
Jack grins into your skin as he slams into you, hearing your sultry moans and slapping sounds from his movements. You shake under him as he keeps going, holding you in this mating press as he growls and bites at your skin. You feel as if your ascending as your stomach bubbles and prepares for another climax. You give him choked out pleas, begs but none were answered. You hear Jack muttering in your ears about all the things he could do to you, possessive statements ringing through your body.
" Sh- shit– get ready doll.. I'll make sure you'll– haah– be mine. "
He hisses in your ears as he chases his climax. You let your arms fly up to grasp at his Hoodie again, whimpering as you both chase your orgasms. Jack groans as he slams his dick all the way in your poor hole, his hips sputtering as he splashes white ropes inside of you. You tremble from your final orgasm, spasming as his hips sputter for a final time. The room once filled with slapping and moaning sounds is now filled with pants and breathy moans. Your legs tremble against Jack before he peacefully rests your legs back down to your bed. Jack bites his lip as he pulls out of you, watching as some of his semen dribble out of your cute hole. 
You pant as you feel a sudden tiredness flood over you from all the midnight activity. Jack pulls you in for a bittersweet kiss, making you taste a mixture of himself and your blood. You whimper in his mouth as you feel his sharp teeth as he explores your mouth. He soon breaks the wet kiss with a smirk, a beaded mixture of your salivas connected together. The string breaks as he pulls himself up, getting out from between your legs as you weakly watch. He gets off your bed, watching your limp body as its covered in bodily fluids. Soon, in a timid manner almost, Jack pulls up the covers for you. 
He tucks you in, giving you a warm sensation as your eyes droop in and out of your tired focus. He kisses your forehead, slipping his mask into place as he stands beside your bed. You look at the figure shining in the moonlight, his blue features vibrant. He has a soft gaze on you as you tiredly close your eyes, slipping into your polite slumber again.
" You did so well, angel… Sweet dreams. "
The last mumbles of praise leaves his soft lips as you hear him faintly walk to your window. As he opens the window, you quickly fade into the nonchalant darkness of your subconscious. Your mind echoed his soft words with endearment rather than unsettlment, peacefully passing your subconscious in your sweet dreams. You look at this night in endearment, hoping to see that familiar face again one day..
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moviecritc · 3 months
Text
✦ ˚ : · MEDIA DAYS ⋆ CARLOS SAINZ 🦢
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pairing ☆ carlos sainz x f1 influencer! reader
summary ☆ where after an interview together, carlos is fascinated by you and doesn't miss the chance of hitting on you
warnings ☆ lando hate bc i hate him sm i can't stand him i swear to god i can't with that guy. i used lissie mackintosh as a fc bc she has good material, but i don't support her at all
masterlist | letterboxd
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❛ if they call me a slut, it might be worth it for once❜
yourusername just posted!
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liked by carlossainz55, skysports and 172,031 others
yourusername Can't wait to show you guys all the content this guys and I've been doing
tagged; @/carlossainz55, @/charlesleclerc
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user1 she's living every girl's dream
carlossainz55 Loved to work with you, I had so much fun! 🤞 liked by author
user2 OK I'M JEALOUS user3 oh hi carlos
user4 Leave this work for someone who knows how to do it
user5 go back to your 9 to 5 dickhead user6 🤏
user7 i want to be like her when i grow up (i'm 26)
user8 HAHSHAHA me too girl me too
landonorris now interview me, having dinner with you
yourusername no thanks x user9 LMAOO i just love how much y/n hates lando
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yourusername just posted!
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liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe and 56,873 others
yourusername off the asphalt
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user10 she's soft launching??
lilymhe so many queens on this dump (including cleo, obviously)
yourusername cleo is the queenest of all of us
user11 my goal is soft launching in a yatch out of nowhere
alexandrasaintmleux cleo is the cutest omg!!
yourusername i wish leo and her fall in love, but i think she's a lesbian user12 IJBOL user13 honestly i think too that cleo is a lesbian
user14 that flowers omg
landonorris cool pics
yourusername thanks now leave.
user15 i can't believe she's soft launching
user16 THAT SHOULD BE ME
user17 face card never declines
carlossainz55 cleo has a bit of y/n in her face
user18 ariana what are you doing here user19 this friendship out of nowhere??? user20 wait i knew that hand on the second pic was familiar user21 IS CARLOS?? user22 oh that's not... user23 OF COURSE she's dating a f1 driver
user24 now it makes sense why you got into f1 so easily
carlossainz55 just posted a story!
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[caption: best passenger princess]
replies
user25 so it's official?
user26 carlos wtf
user27 that's cleo lol
user28 you could do so much better
yourusername casually steals my dog
carlossainz55 I'M TAKING HER TO SIGHSEE while her mother is working
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carlossainz55 just posted!
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 451,923 others
carlossainz55 London off the track
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user29 please tell me that's NOT y/n
user30 nah carlos leave y/n alone
user31 i really thought she was trying to make motorsports more visible to girls and she was just trying to be a wag
user32 she's just a gold digger like the others
user33 we lost him guys 😔
user34 we lost her*
user35 wait who's the girl? and why is everybody hating?
user36 everyone thinks is y/n, a journalist and f1 influencer that has been working for introducing more women and girl to the sport. and everyone is hating bc she represented all the women who wanted to have a future in f1, and now we found out that it was only for dating one of the drivers user37 i mean ig it sucks but dating a man doesn't take the fact that she can still do her job user38 but all the message for the girls is gone
user39 hell nah
yourusername just posted!
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liked by carlosssainz55, franciscac.gomes and 98,270 others
yourusername Been reading so many opinions about my own private life and I thought that the best thing I can do is address this because I'd never imagine I could dissapoint so many people just for loving someone.
I've been working really hard making a name in this industry because I love motorsports, not for any other reasons. And I wasn't aware of being a role model until now, which is something I'm still getting used to it. But overall, who I choose to date has nothing to do with my job.
Dating the amazing man that Carlos is was just a perk of working in F1, and even though I'm technically a wag now (it's really weird to worded 😨) I will keep working hard in F1 and other categories for the love I have for this industry.
I'll see you on the next race 💕💕
comments have been limited
carlossainz55 You're the most hard working person I've ever met, I love you hermosa 💕
yourusername I love you too baby 🥹🥹
scuderiaferrari We can't wait to see you on the Ferrari hospitality liked by author
lilymhe I'm obsessed with you btw
landonorris fan of your relationship 😍🫀
yourusername Go away
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☆ request by: anon
Could you do a smau w Carlos falling for an f1 influencer?
a/n: this was so hard somehow?? idk why i had zero inspiration this past week, but here it is. it's a bit short but i like it <3
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mimimarvelingmarvel · 1 month
Text
time bound part seven
pairing: worst wolverine!logan howlett x f!mutant!reader
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Part Seven - Masterlist
summary: Y/n’s life takes a dramatic turn when the Time Variance Authority intervenes, pulling her from a critical moment in her timeline. The TVA sends her to the void where she eventually meets with Deadpool and a very familiar face. With Deadpool's universe in the balance, alongside his reluctant would-be pal, Wolverine, and the enigmatic time-bending mutant known as the Veil, the trio must complete the mission and save Deadpool’s world from an existential threat.
overall warnings: 18+, Fem!Reader, AFAB Reader, Use of Y/N, Her X-Men name is Veil, She/her pronouns, Swearing, Angst, Heavy Violence, Character Death, Deadpool (he’s his own warning), Hurt, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, TVA
word count: 2k
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The road stretches out before us, a seemingly endless ribbon of asphalt cutting through the desolate landscape. The car, a beat-up old muscle car with a purring engine that speaks of too many miles and too many battles, rumbles beneath us. The seats are worn, their once-plush leather now cracked and faded, much like the people riding in them. The air inside is stale, carrying the faint scent of gasoline and sweat, mingled with the metallic tang of blood that seems to cling to everything we touch.
I lean back, my body sinking into the seat as I close my eyes, trying to find a moment of respite. The gentle vibration of the road beneath the tires lulls me into a light, uneasy doze. But it’s not enough—never enough—to ward off the nightmares that wait just beyond the veil of sleep. Images of my world, my friends, everything I’ve ever known, shattered and dying, claw at the edges of my consciousness. The sounds of their screams, the scent of burning flesh, it all lingers, just out of reach, waiting to pounce the moment I let my guard down.
When I open my eyes again, the car is still moving, the road still stretching endlessly ahead. The world outside is a blur, the trees we’ve been driving in continue on for ages, but I can tell we’re close. Inside, the only sound is the soft strains of music playing from the car’s ancient radio, a static-laced tune that feels like a ghost from a time long past. It’s quiet—too quiet—yet I cling to this moment of calm like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.
“You enjoy your power nap, pumpkin?” Wade’s voice slices through the quiet, shattering the fragile peace I’d managed to find. The nickname, as ridiculous as it is, grates on my nerves. I groan, my eyes fluttering shut again, hoping to block him out.
“It was so peaceful before you opened your mouth,” I mumble, my voice thick with irritation. There’s a part of me that just wants to hold onto the silence, to bask in it a little longer before reality comes crashing back in.
Wade’s gaze meets mine in the rearview mirror, his expression playful, as if he’s completely oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface. “I don’t hear Logan complaining.” 
Logan, sitting stoically beside Wade, rolls his eyes. The subtle gesture, the way his knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel, tells me more than words ever could. I chuckle softly, a hollow sound that barely covers the unease gnawing at my insides. 
Then, as if he’s compelled to break the fragile truce, Wade blurts out, “Okay, I’m just gonna ask it. What’s with the suit?”
My gaze drifts to Logan, to the yellow X-Men suit he’s wearing. It’s a jarring sight, one that doesn’t fit the image I have of him—rugged, battle-worn, but never in something so bright, so out of place in this bleak world. The realization hits me hard: I’ve never seen him wear it before.
“The first thing I did when I flamed out, I took mine off,” Wade continues, his tone light, almost mocking, but there’s a sharpness beneath it that makes my skin prickle.
Logan’s response is immediate, his voice low and edged with warning. “Drop it.”
But Wade, relentless as ever, presses on. “It’s not that ugly.”
“Stop talking about the suit,” Logan snaps, his irritation growing palpable in the confined space of the car.
Wade, ever oblivious to danger or perhaps simply indifferent to it, persists. “Did you make it yourself? Been there.”
Logan’s tone darkens, a growl rumbling in his chest. “Quit now.”
But Wade doesn’t quit. He never does. “The X-Men make you wear it? Those sons of fucking bitches. They are not your friends, I’ll tell you that. Friends don’t let friends leave the house looking like they fight crime for the Los Angeles Rams.”
The words hang in the air, and I feel the tension coiling tighter, a noose around my throat. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the mention of friends—our friends—who are no longer here, no longer anything but ghosts in a broken world.
“Shut the fuck up about the suit,” Logan’s voice is a razor, slicing through the air. It’s ice-cold, and for a moment, I flinch at the intensity of it.
Wade raises his hands in mock surrender, but there’s a seriousness to his tone that wasn’t there before. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Watch your frown lines, angel baby. I’m just trying to bond a little bit.”
“Yeah, well then talk about something else,” Logan’s patience is fraying, each word a thread pulled taut, ready to snap.
“Fine.” Wade’s voice shifts, losing its edge. “If they can fix your world, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get out of here? Rubbing alcohol shots? Maybe a wiper fluid chaser?”
The word “If” lodges itself in my mind like a splinter, unraveling the fragile grip I have on my emotions. My ears start ringing, and suddenly, I’m not in the car anymore. The world blurs, and I see it—Wade, punching Logan in the face. The vision is jarring, disorienting, and then, just as quickly, I’m yanked back to the present.
“What did you say?” Logan’s voice is sharp, pulling me out of the haze, grounding me in the here and now.
Wade, his confusion plain, repeats himself. “So when you get back, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do?”
“No, no, no, before that,” Logan insists, his eyes narrowing, his suspicion flaring.
Wade hesitates, and I can see the moment he realizes his mistake. “If… they can fix your world?”
Logan’s expression hardens, anger and betrayal flashing in his eyes. Without warning, he slams on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt. The sudden stop jolts me forward, but it’s the look on Logan’s face that makes my heart skip a beat. “What do you mean if?”
“I mean…” Wade falters, his bravado crumbling as he struggles to find the right words.
Logan’s voice is a dangerous growl, the kind that makes your blood run cold. “You lied to me. You don’t have a fucking clue if they can help me fix things, do you?”
“No, I mean… No, fuck! Fuck!” Wade stammers, but it’s too late. The truth is out, and Logan’s claws are already extending, a deadly promise in his eyes. Before Wade can react, Logan stabs him in the leg.
Wade yelps, the pain clear in his voice. “I didn’t lie!”
“You lied,” Logan hisses, his voice as cold as the steel in his hands.
I sit in the back, overwhelmed by a tidal wave of guilt and the crushing realization that there’s no undoing what’s already been done. I could have stopped this. I should have stopped this. But it’s too late now—too late to change anything.
Wade, his tone desperate, tries to explain. “No, I made an educated wish. Because I need you.” He pulls out a photo, his hands shaking slightly as he holds it out for Logan to see. “This, this is why. Right here. Because if we don’t do something, they die. I don’t know anything about saving worlds. Why would I even care? Because my entire world is right here in this picture. It’s only nine people, and I have no idea how to save it alone. I know how to fuck people up for money, but you, you know how to save them. At least the other Wolverine did.”
Wade’s voice cracks, a rare moment of vulnerability slipping through his usual bravado. “Oh, fuck!” Logan twists his wrist. “I guess I’m stuck with the worst one.”
Logan’s eyes narrow, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Did you say you made an educated fucking wish?”
“They call me the Merc with the Mouth,” Wade tries to regain his usual humor, but it falls flat. “They don’t call me Truthful Timmy, the blowjob queen of Saskatoon.”
Logan’s hand twitches, his control slipping. “One more,” he demands, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “Please, give me one.”
Wade, ever the joker, tries to lighten the mood. “Gubernatorial.”
But Logan is beyond reason now. He goes to stab Wade again, but Wade screams, the sound tearing through the car, reverberating off the walls of my mind. I’m sitting in the back, too shocked to move, too numb to process what’s happening. There’s no saving what I’ve done. No changing the hurt I could have stopped.
Logan turns to Wade, his voice dripping with contempt, his words a knife twisting in the wound. “You know what, you’re a fucking joke. No wonder the Avengers didn’t take you. Or the X-Men—they’ll take fucking anyone. I mean, you are a ridiculous, immature, half-wit moron. I have never met a sadder, more attention-starved, jabbering little prick in my entire life. And that says a lot because I’ve been alive for more than 200 fucking years. I’ll tell ya, that bald chick was right. You will never save the world. You couldn’t even save a relationship with a goddamn stripper. Motherfucker, I wish I could say you’d die alone, but it’s one of God’s best jokes that you can’t die, except that’s on all of us!” He slams his fist on the top of the car, the metal groaning under the force, and I flinch, my heart skipping a beat. The tension in the air is so thick it feels like it’s suffocating me, wrapping around my throat and squeezing until I can hardly breathe.
Logan stares at him, his eyes filled with a mix of pity and disgust. “You got nothing to say, Mouth?”
Wade flinches, the words cutting deeper than any blade ever could. His usual bravado crumbles, and for a moment, he looks like a lost child, the weight of everything finally breaking through the armor he’s built around himself. He looks away, his eyes dull, and when he speaks, his voice is barely a whisper. “I’m gonna fight you now.”
Logan chuckles darkly, the sound devoid of humor, and I feel my stomach churn, the dread pooling in the pit of my gut. The vision hits me again—flashes of blood, violence, and something far worse waiting just beyond the edges of my mind. My hands start to tremble, and I know I can’t stay in the car. I push the door open and step out, the cool air hitting my face like a slap. My legs feel like jelly, but I force myself to move, taking a few shaky steps away from the car.
Behind me, the fight erupts with a sudden, violent force. The car jolts as their bodies slam against it, and I hear the sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh, the wet splatter of blood as it sprays across the ground. The smell of iron fills the air, sharp and acrid, mixing with the earthy scent of the forest. My stomach turns, and I barely manage to keep myself upright as I stagger over to a tree and collapse against it, sliding down until I’m sitting on the ground.
I curl up, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to block out the sounds of their fight, the horrible, animalistic grunts and growls that seem to echo in my head. But it’s no use. The vision is getting stronger, more vivid. Bright, flashing lights sear across my mind, and I hear a scream ripping through the vision—a scream that’s mine, raw and terrified.
And then, as if the world itself is breaking apart, there’s a loud crash. Logan is shot through the front window of the car, his body flying through the air before crashing to the ground with a bone-jarring thud. He rolls past me, his body leaving a trail of blood in the dirt. I tuck my legs closer, curling into a tighter ball, trying to protect myself from the onslaught of sensations that are threatening to tear me apart.
The vision crescendos, a blinding storm of light and sound, and then, just as suddenly as it began, everything goes dark. There’s nothing left—no sound, no pain, no fear. Just an endless, consuming void.
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Next Part
A/N: I’m so tired, I need sleep updates will probs be slow.
taglist: @oscarissac2099 @somiaw @100percentlazybonez @obsessedwthdilfs @sun7lowxr @corvid007
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alotofpockets · 8 months
Text
Jealousy | Mary Earps
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Pairing: Mary Earps x Reader
Summary: Mary introduces you to a few of your teammates but ends up getting jealous when you get along with them well.
Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k
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After a few months of dating Mary, she invited you over to her place to meet some of her England teammates. Since the girls played all over, you hadn't met many of them. You had already met her teammates at United on a few occasions, as you loved going to watch Mary play. So, the only familiar face next to your girlfriend’s would be her United teammate Ella Toone.
You ring Mary’s doorbell, and the girl opens the door with a big smile plastered on her face, “Hi baby.” She pulls you into a hug, and closes the door behind you. “How are you feeling?” You were sitting on the couch now, with Mary’s arm across the back of it. “I'm a little nervous about meeting your friends but overall I am doing well. How about you?” Mary’s arm wraps around your shoulder, “I’m doing good, and you don’t have to be nervous, they are going to love you.” Mary had just finished her sentence when the doorbell rang. 
A cheery Beth walked into the house, “Hi mate, it’s good to see you.” She hugged Mary at the door. Mary walked her in and introduced the two of you right away. You held out your hand for Beth to shake but the girl greeted you with a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mary has been talking my ears off about you, and that says a lot as I am usually the talkative one.” The blonde jokes. “All good things I hope.” Beth places a hand on your shoulder, “Only good things, don’t you worry. Mary is heads over heels for you.” You blush at the words, hearing that Mary talked about you so highly to her friends meant a lot. 
You continue your conversation with Beth, getting to know each other a little better, while Mary heads to the door again. Leah walks in next and greets you with a hug, similar to Beth. “It’s good to meet you, y/n.” You smile at the girl, “Likewise.” Before Mary can sit down, the doorbell rings again. “So, the both of you play for the same club, right?” You ask Beth and Leah, who are now sitting with you on the couch. “Oh yeah, Beth and I go way back.” 
“Y/n!” Ella yells your way, as she rushes to give you a hug. “It’s so good to see you again. We missed you at the game on Sunday.” You heard a chuckle from behind Ella, “You’ve gotta at least let her breathe if you want her to let you know why she wasn’t there.” Ella realises then that she’s still hugging you tightly, ‘Right, sorry, I got too excited.” Alessia stepped forward and gave you a quick hug, “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Alessia. Don’t mind Tooney here, sometimes she forgets that people have lives outside of watching us play football.” The comment earns the girl a playful hit on the arm by none other than Ella herself. 
You were having a blast getting to know your girlfriend's teammates, the girls were very easy to like, and the conversation flowed easily. Alessia helped Mary in the kitchen with cooking, while Leah helped you set the table. Beth and Ella were deep into a discussion that no one was interested in interrupting. 
When the table is set, you walk into the kitchen to check if everything is going well. “You seem tense, darling.” Your hands instantly reach for Mary’s shoulders and you massage them slightly. “I forgot to buy the sauce for the pasta, and we have nothing in the pantry to make sauce with.” She says, letting out a frustrated sigh. “No worries, I will go to the store and get some right away.” You quickly peck her cheek, and head back to the living room. “Hey, I’m heading to the store really quick.” You tell Leah, “Do you want to tag along?” You subtly nod in Beth and Ella’s direction, who are still having a heated discussion. “Yes, please.” The girl jokes back to you.
The trip to the store was short, as the grocery store was right around the corner. You had asked Leah about her family, and she told you all about her little brother that was currently living in Australia. You could tell that she loved her family very much, and it was a joy to listen to her talk about them. The conversation was still going when you had arrived back at Mary's apartment. Leah follows you into the kitchen, so your conversation doesn’t need to stop. “Here you go, darling.” You say as you hand Mary the jar. You give her a quick kiss on her cheek, before you head back to the living room with Leah. 
Mary looks after you with a feeling a way she hadn’t felt before. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was either, so she decided to put her focus back on the food. When Mary and Alessia had plated the food, and set the plates down on the table, you and Leah were still deep in conversation. Of course, you stopped for a moment to thank the girls for the food, and for a quick toast, but you soon fell back into easy conversation with the striker. 
Unbeknownst to you, Mary kept glaring at you and Leah. You were too deep into the conversation to notice the change in her behaviour at first, but when your attention was pulled to the conversations around the table, you noticed that Mary wasn’t really joining in on the conversation. You place your hand down on her thigh, but unlike the usual smile or her hand meeting yours, the gesture was met with a stoic look. You made a mental note to ask her about it later, not wanting to get into anything while her teammates were over. 
The food was amazing, you thanked both Alessia and Mary again for their efforts in the kitchen. Everyone helped clean up, and soon after they were getting ready to head back home. Leah hands you her phone, “Here, put your number in, and I’ll send you those links.” You quickly type in your contact info, before handing her phone back, and hugging her goodbye. You also hug the rest of the girls, and thank everyone for a great night.
You wanted to cuddle up to your girlfriend the moment that the front door closed, but Mary walked away and sat down at the dinner table before you could. Taking a seat beside her, you put your hand on her knee. “What’s going on, darling?” She shrugs, “Why don’t you ask Leah?” Confusion takes over your face. “Why would I ask Leah, what’s going on with you?” You had never seen Mary like this before, and it worried you. “You’re clearly into her as the two of you talked the whole day, and I even saw you exchange phone numbers.”
It started to click for you then. “You’re jealous of Leah?” Her eyes shot up to yours. “Darling, I’ve been talking with Leah because I love you, you goober. I was just trying to get to know your friends. And for the number exchange, we were talking about some places we have travelled to, and she was going to recommend some places, so I could take you there. I’m sorry if it looked differently, darling. I promise that I only have eyes for you.” Mary’s demeanour changed when she realised that her jealousy was misplaced. 
“Oh, thank god.” She exhales and brings you in for a hug. “I was so scared you’d like her more, and that we would be over.” You shake your head. “Never going to happen, I have everything I’ve ever wanted with you by my side.” Hearing those words did Mary good. She connected your lips in a passionate kiss. Her previous jealousy meant that she wanted to show you how much she loved you. 
-----
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alectothinker · 1 year
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the unwanted guest reference compilation (revised, thank u tltblr!) (scroll down for additions)
every day i thank tamsyn muir for her planet sized brain (and the new short story). will be quoting heavily from TUG so spoilers under the cut!
woo this is a long one. (will probably miss stuff, im a non-western zoomer) 
References are in the order that they appear in TUG ->
Pal’s mask being a reference to his shattered and glued-back-together skull:
“This is PALAMEDES SEXTUS, whose mask is distinguished by being plain, of shattered wood clumsily taped or glued back together.” (page 480)
Pain (slight pain) (jk. pretty good amount of pain)
2. An Inspector Calls by JB Priestly: 
“IANTHE Oh — Inspector. How terribly good of you to call so late.” (page 483)
Ok there are so many other parallels to AIC in this story (the setting, the stage play format, overall message) and I’ve written briefly about it here
3. This better not awaken anything in me [original clip from community thank u @what3ver]
“[Ianthe gayly describing infinite strip poker with harrow] Yuck. I hope that hasn’t awakened anything in me.” (p492) 
(she’s tucking the image away in her mind palace as we speak)
4. Ace attorney (i LAUGHED)
"Palamedes slams both hands down flat on the lid of the upper coffin, then thrusts his arm out to point an accusing finger at Ianthe. PALAMEDES you're avoiding the question!” (p493) 
Insert ace attorney OBJECTION dot gif here 
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5. and right after ace attorney, Monty Python:
“IANTHE No. It's a fair cop, guv'nor. But, in this instance, society really is to blame.” (p493)
Probably a reference to Monty Python's Flying Circus, "Church Police". Quote taken from tvtropes: 
Man: All right, it's a fair cop, but society's to blame. Church Policeman: Right, we'll arrest them instead.
6. Looney tunes: 
“IANTHE (Brightly) That’s all, folks! Back after the break.” (p495)
Here’s a clip of porky pig saying it bc why not: That's All Folks HD
7. Hamlet
“VOICE ‘Use every man after his desert, and who should ‘scape whipping?’” (p500)
Original quote:
“Use every man according to his desert and who should 'scape whipping? Use them after your own honor and dignity, the less they deserve ... the more merit in your bounty.”
notes: very hot of dulcie to know shakespeare
8. Haters meme (?)
does this even count as a meme at this point. Idk but i love that dulcie said it. 
“VOICE Truly, wonderful news for my haters.” (p501)
9. The bible (ofc)
“PALAMEDES (as if reciting) ‘And her body was like the chrysolite, and her face as the appearance of lighting, and her eyes as a burning lamp; and her arms, and all downward to the feet, like in appearance to glittering brass.’” (p502)
Palamedes quotes Daniel 10:6 when Dulcie reveals (?) herself to him. I'm not super familiar with the bible, but depending on dif sources from google (lol), the original quote describes either Christ or the angel Gabriel appearing to Daniel:
"And his body was like the chrysolite, and his face as the appearance of lightning, and his eyes as a burning lamp: and his arms, and all downward even to the feet, like in appearance to glittering brass: and the voice of his word like the voice of a multitude." (from the Douay-Rheims Bible)
ok finally stuff that might be a reference but I havent been able to figure out a lot has been figured out! additions from tltblr here:
p481 
> probably nothing, but any significance re pal’s calling card being the skeleton hand?  probably a reference to the skele hand harrow made him in htn (via @guyrunsbackwards)
p482
The Almond Room?? Is this anything. It seems so weirdly specific lol
 “IANTHE the master will see you in the Almond Room, sir.”
crowdsourced possibilities:
the almond room representing babs' borrowed amygdala, which is involved in processing memory, decision making, and emotional response; would make sense for the investigation/interrogation to take place here (via @confusedbyinterface)
may be a reference to the game Clue, where the individual rooms in which the mystery happens have specific names (via @the-light-of-stars);
a reference to cyanide, which smells like almonds (@the-light-of-stars, @satans-poptarts); + @winged mentioned that in a lot of early 20th century whodunnits, someone has a revelation about the real conclusion when they smell almond somewhere it shouldn't be (vs pal and ianthe having their revelations about babs' soul in the almond room)
p487
"IANTHE False things have a piquancy which the real can never match.  PALAMEDES     is that from something? IANTHE      Everything's from something.”
• ianthe is this actually from something. google yielded no straightforward results :(
p503
"IANTHE You look to me like a small boy holding a tail when he doesn’t even know where the donkey is.”
Nothing in particular just the image of tiny pal playing pin the tail on the donkey is so. He’s baby. Also he probably found a way to be very good at it via psychometry lol
@mayasaura: Under the circumstances, the donkey thing also reminded me of Buddhist parable of the blind men and the elephant, about the limits of perception in understanding the true nature of being. Or, to quote Wikipedia: "The moral of the parable is that humans have a tendency to claim absolute truth based on their limited, subjective experience" <- ianthe turbo roasting pal, love to see it
Miscellaneous / theatre techniques:
> What's up with the coffins?
@tangelotime: the coffins might be a black box theater technique, using boxes to represent certain settings rather than faithfully recreating them on the stage; @the-light-of-stars mentioned that the arrangement of the coffins depends on Pal's questions:
first he asks a philosophical question thus the arrangement in the style of a greek symposion - their style of dialogue also is in reference to Plato's work 'Symposion', as well as Ianthe offering Pal wine and the servants placing velvet cushions. The next question is about Babs' murder thus arrangement in style of a courtroom. Then a question about Gideon, the cavalier, thus arrangement in the style of a fencing ring. The last arrangement follow a question about Ianthe's motives for Corona and they are playing cards- both a classic trope symbolizing a battle of wits and a metaphor for Ianthe holding secrets (cards) that she has to reveal one by one (via @the-light-of-stars)
@transbutchbluess, @gwydionmisha also ID'd the greek symposium scene as a parody of a socratic/platonic dialogue, which "presents a discussion of moral and philosophical problems between two or more individuals illustrating the application of the Socratic method." (via wikipedia)
> continuing with the theme of theatre, @valence-positive also mentioned that the servants thumping the coffins at the same time after each question may be a theatre technique to underscore Pal's question; @winged made the connection to bells/gavels/gongs, which are often used for judgement (which occurs during the discussion of Babs' murder and Ianthe's intent/endgame.)
the coffin thumping might also be a reference to the bell toll in A Christmas Carol (via @winged again, you have a huge brain); it's also implied that Pal's visits parallel the three ghosts who visit Scrooge and induce a moral awakening:
"IANTHE Five minutes to midnight, I'd say. You can't last much longer, and we both know it. PAL You said that three visits ago." (p483)
vs the original novella by Charles Dickens (taken from sparknotes again):
“You (scrooge) will be haunted… by Three Spirits… Without their visits,” said the Ghost, “you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. Expect the first tomorrow, when the bell tolls One…. “Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third, upon the next night when the last stroke of Twelve has ceased to vibrate. Look to see me no more; and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us!”
Pal makes Ianthe realise that Babs' soul has been slowly fusing with hers all along, which is similar what the third ghost does in ACC:
"The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come leads Scrooge through a sequence of mysterious scenes relating to an unnamed man's recent death...Scrooge, anxious to learn the lesson of his latest visitor, begs to know the name of the dead man. After pleading with the ghost, Scrooge finds himself in a churchyard, the spirit pointing to a grave. Scrooge looks at the headstone and is shocked to read his own name."
Finally, like other references in TUG (An Inspector Calls, Dulcie's Hamlet quote), A Christmas Carol criticises the treatment of a disadvantaged class. AIC and ACC both end with the characters faced with the morality of their actions. (intertextuality! delicious)
I also thought the thumping was similar to the synchronisation thing we see in ntn:
"[Ianthe] flounced up the dais, threw herself back into her chair—the dead bodies jerked their left hips convulsively, all in unison" (Nona the Ninth, p335)
Ok that’s it thank u for reading the whole thing ???? And thank you so much for contributing guys! Feel free to leave a reply or dm me if you have any additions <3
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vampiricgf · 1 month
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— g. satoru | FAMILY MATTERS
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warnings : dead dove do not eat, dark content, pseudocest (stepdad/stepdaughter), noncon, restraints, slapping, oral, fingering, dacryphilia, pet names (honey, sweetheart, pumpkin, baby), creampie, emotional manipulation, use of daddy, underwear stealing
wc : 3.5k+
if you choose to expand the work and read it, it's your responsibility. I have made sure to use the proper warnings and kept everything beneath a read more for a reason! also sorry for any errors it's not edited
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Coming back home wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
If you’re being honest with yourself you weren’t sure what exactly it was supposed to feel like, but you did know enough to recognize your childhood home shouldn’t feel like a mausoleum. Maybe that was due in part to the overall bitterness of having to come back at all, a failed bid for independence left a lingering sour taste washing across your tongue. It didn’t help your guilt either, guilt for having left your stepfather behind while chasing all the fury of youth. 
You mom was long gone, mostly a faded memory now and it was him, Satoru, who had taken care of you through your adolescence in the aftermath of her disappearance. You would always be grateful to him on some level for that, especially since it would’ve been just as easy for him to toss you out on your ass with a good luck, kid. But he didn’t. Even with the long hours at Jujutsu Tech and the missions you knew he tried to keep secret from you, he still tried. Although you mostly found the overly affectionate displays embarrassing when you were younger, you would be a liar if you said it didn’t provide a certain level of comfort.
Or at least, it did. You knew better, knew that even as an adult yourself you were still explicitly forbidden from entering his study. Wished so hard you physically squeezed every muscle in your body taught that you hadn’t gone nosing for moms things. It had been natural to assume though that if he would keep anything of hers it would be in the study, not out in the main house anywhere. 
You’d just wanted to feel closer to her in a low moment, not pludge even further down in free fall. 
In the small closet inside that room you’d found it. Thought it was just a small box of maybe her jewelry or something like that.
Not a box of trophies. 
Bile rose quick and acidic as you recalled what had been inside that box, fingers gripping the edge of your mattress as you tried to control your breathing. 
Various pairs of womens underwear. So many it was beyond inconceivable, and all carefully folded to fit inside the wooden confines, clearly precious to whomever had placed them there. 
What was worse is that you spotted a familiar set tucked away in the midst of the array of colors and materials. Your own fucking stepfather had stolen a pair of your underwear.
Tears rolled down your face as your breathing spiralled out of control. 
Every interaction since coming home was now colored differently in your racing mind, bearing a more sinister undertone now than any of the warmth you usually felt when it came to the man you looked at like a father. 
But he would be home soon, you needed to get yourself under control and you needed to do it now. He would be expecting you to be ready to go through the usual evening routine you had fallen into: cooking dinner in comfortable silence, occasional chatter about his workday, the familial domesticity of sharing the work of cleaning up before spending the rest of your time either together in the living room or in your separate spaces. You in your bedroom, him in his study. 
Your skin crawled, feeling like something damp and slimy was wrapping around you in a vise grip, like a cobra made of all this sickness swimming around inside your head and your gut. 
The thought of cooking side by side, cleaning up and feeling him wrap you in a hug was enough to make you feel ready to expel everything inside your body. 
The clicking and thudding coming from further down the hall sent chills running down your back as you sprung up, frantically rubbing your eyes with your sleeves. Oh fuck. You cringe, knwoing that he’ll be able to clock it immediately that you’d been crying and you couldn’t stomach the idea of him comforting you right now. But time was rapidly ticking down, marked by the sounds of him tossing his keys in the little ceramic bowl you’d made as a kid, the sliding of a jacket against the metal hook on the wall, the solid thumps of shoes being removed and hitting the wood floor. 
“Hey, sweetheart, are you home?” The question drifted through the house, reaching your now hyper aware ears. 
After taking a few seconds to steady yourself you padded out of your bedroom, arms wrapped around yourself like a shield. “Hey, dad. How was work?”
Before he can answer he looks up at you, instantly his features are awash in concern and you shrink away automatically, before you can catch yourself. 
“Something happen today?” His crystal blue eyes moved methodically over your face, making you feel hot all over and suddenly gripped by fear, like pinpricks of ice punched into your heart. 
“No, just… Just feeling sad. A little bit.” Your voice is stilted and awkward but he seems to buy it, giving you a little aw sound before pulling you in for a hug. 
“S’alright baby. Hey how about we make your favorite tonight, yeah?” He gives you a kiss on the temple and it makes you squirm, the barely contained urge to break out of his hold and take off at a breakneck speed back to your room surging through your head, but you stuff it down. 
Shyly you back up, trying your best to give him a wobbly smile. “Sure, that sounds good.” 
~
Dinner was mostly uneventlful, thank god. Because of the sheer stress and anxiety the actual act of cooking and doing dishes passed by in a blur, and you didn’t have the ability to choke back much food but he seemed to chalk it up to your low mood and didn’t pry. 
Except that now, as you laid in bed in the dark of your room, your every thought focused on the fact that he was shut away in that study. What was he doing in there? Going through the box, relishing in the feeling of all those things in his hands? Or was he zeroed in on yours, face pressed to the silky material with deep inhales, getting rock hard like a fucking freak? 
Fresh tears gathered in your waterline, spilling over and rolling down your cheeks, puddling in your ears but you couldn’t care less. 
You’d never wshed more in your life to be a sorcerer. Maybe then you could feel more confident, if not in confronting him than at least in fleeing. At least you’d have some ability, no matter how small, to protect yourself and shove him out of your life. But instead you were just a sniffling, regular person. At an extreme disadvantage against someone like him. Pathetic. 
You curled up on your side, squeezing your eyes shut against the overwhelming thoughts and the sheer disgust pooling in your belly. 
As you gave all your focus to your breathing you could feel yourself slipping away, exhaustion setting in after hours of being wound so taut you were like a string ready to snap in two. 
You locked your bedroom door, certainly. 
~
It’s dark when your eyes crack open, a different sort of darkness than when you had initially fallen asleep, the sort thats thick as molasses and just as difficult to rid yourself of. It doesn’t register until you try to stretch onto your side, a tug of resistance against some kind of binding. Immediately your eyes snap open fully, heartbeat thrumming as adrenaline shoots through your veins at light speed. 
You thrash, twisting and noticing with a sickliness that someone changed your clothes, or rather removed them and left you in only a pair of underwear. 
Immediately the room turns cold, as if you’ve been transported to the Arctic circle in the blink of an eye. All you can do is whimper as your eyes adjust and your movements come to a halt. It’s then that you catch sight of a familiar shade of white blonde, shining even in the darkness. 
Your stepfather is leaned against the dresser across from your bed, body language lax and lazy, like a cat thats been stretching in the sun after a good meal. You find his eyes, that shocking blue shade no longer familiar as he pins you with the weight of them. His small smile is seemingly meant to convey bashfulness but you see through it, catch sight of the predatory glint of his canines as he pushes off the piece of furniture and walks around to the side you’ve turned your head towards. 
“Hey pumpkin, we should probably talk huh?” You flinch, pushing your body back against the mattress as if you could put any distance between yourself and him. The restraints looped around the rods of your headboard thoroughly prevent that.
“Now, don’t be so high strung. I had to make sure we could have this conversation, you get that right? Now listen, I don’t know what you think you saw-”
“You’re a fucking freak,” you spit, full of vitriol as you glare at him, breathing heavily now. You forget to be afraid, forget the vulnerability of your current position. All that matters now is making sure he knows you think he’s beyond disgusting, a man no longer your step father but a bizarre monster. 
In a split second his hand cracks across your cheek, making you yelp as your head snaps to the opposite side. Immediately a sob bursts from your lips, the sting already setting in. It’s so shocking that you can only gape at him as you face him once again, an odd feeling of betrayal setting in. Not even when you were on your worst behavior did he ever so much as raise a hand to you, barely ever raised his voice even. The man crouching down next to you is unrecognizable. 
“C’mon, I’m trying to have a real conversation with you, don’t be a brat.” You bite your bottom lip, hard enough to wince, but you don’t cry out and you don’t interrupt him.
“Now, you’re a smart girl. Always have been, so you should be smart enough to know that sometimes a mans just gonna have urges, sweetheart.” His long fingers sweep against your burning cheek, making your breathe seize in your throat painfully. 
“You’re sick,” you croak out, his face becoming blurry as tears fall anew. 
You can hear him laugh humorlessly. “Yeah, maybe so. But I’m also a good man, a good dad. Coulda just threw you out, you know. Thought about it. But your mom was just so sweet, I figured whats the harm in keeping a little of that sweetness around.” 
His words make you feel like you could vomit, the implications speeding through your head are enough to make you dizzy and you briefly wonder if he hit you hard enough to cause some kind of brain damage. You don’t get long to ruminate on it though, his thumb rubbing around your lips in slow, steady circles drags you back to the present moment. 
“You look just like her, I ever tell you that? I wonder if you taste the same too.” 
That makes your heart drop all the way to your ass, blubbering pathetically as his hand creeps down your chest now, stopping to squeeze at your breasts and twist your nipple harshly. 
“Really, your dads not a bad guy honey. We could’ve gone our whole lives without anything like this, but you just had to be nosy huh?” You’re not sure if he’s really talking to you or talking to himself and you don’t truly care, all you want is for this to stop. 
“Please dad, you don’t have to,” you get cut off by his hand slipping down the front of your underwear, long index finger stroking against your wetness and its with horror that you realize yes, you are wet right now. It makes you choke on your own spit, renewed vigor in your movements as you start tugging against the restraint again. 
He seemingly lets you tire yourself out, hand never withdrawing, just continuing to stroke you before his fingers connect with your clit and you bite back a groan. 
You hear his grin more than see it as he speaks again. “Let yourself relax pumpkin, it doesn’t have to be so bad.”
You whine, low in your throat, but find yourself complying. Your body stills, your breathing the only sound beside the soft slick noises of his fingers playing with your pussy. With your eyes shut you can almost forget that it’s your own stepfather doing it, can pretend you're just sexually exploring with someone else, anyone else. 
But his other hand grips your face, squishing your cheeks together and forcing you to open your eyes. “Nu-uh, you gotta keep those pretty eyes open for me baby.” You cry out feeling his thumb press hard against your clit, feeling a pulsing like a second heartbeat reverberating from your cunt. “You know, I’m kind of glad you find that stuff. Been thinking about this for a long time.”
You let his words wash over you, hating the way they make your pussy clench around nothing. Are you so fucked up that you’re getting off right now? You decide it doesn’t matter, none of this matters. Just a bad dream from start to finish. Thats all.
“M’sorry dad,” you say, voice breaking and you hear him coo at you before letting go of your cheeks, shifting to lean back on his knees before you can feel him working to slide your underwear off. You don’t kick or thrash, eyes trained on the shadowy ceiling. 
“It’s okay honey, you know everythings okay.” He breathes the words against the flesh of your inner thighs as he slides down onto his belly between your legs. “I love you.”
You can’t answer before he places a kiss to your puffy clit, making your legs jerk and your breathing hitch in your chest. His lips wrap around the sensitive little bud and begin sucking, light and rhythmic and desire wraps its fingers around your mind. You moan openly, hands twisting against the soft fabric binding them. He hums into your soaked cunt, dragging his tongue up and down through your folds, fingers prodding at your entrance before pushing against the ring of muscle, sliding inside you and making your head spin all over again. 
You don’t realize you’re bucking your hips against his hand, greedily trying to take more of his fingers inside as your walls reshape to accommodate the intrusion. His fingers are perfectly slender, long enough to reach the spots you’ve never been able to get yourself and making your vision swim. 
His nose bumps against your clit in just the right way, making you cry out for more, a sort of delirium settling into your very bones an dhe obliges your unspoken need with his tongue.
“Please daddy, please,” you blubber, barely coherent, “love you- I love you-”
With a garbled cry you feel yourself coming undone, your muscles flexing so tightly your back raises off the bed, legs screaming from the strain as you cum. 
On the comedown he never stops rubbing your pussy, making you sob from the prolonged contact and your own sensitivity post orgasm. As you cry you can hear the soft shushing of fabric moving, being discarded, thankful for the momentary break in physical contact. 
“There she is,” he murmurs, voice gentle as you feel the head of his cock bump against your clit, push through your mess of arousal and cum to coat his dick. You feel conflicting horror and excitment at the feeling, horror at yourself for being excited at the though of him pushing inside you fully. 
You don’t get the chance to respond before he was doing exactly that, the head of his cock sitting heavy inside you as he gave a few shallow thrusts that made you pant and wince. He felt heavy inside you already, but you weren’t given much of a grace period for adjustment before he was pushing in once more, clearly relishing in the way your gasped and arched upward once more. 
The sheer girth of him was astounding, coupled with the length reaching impossibly far up inside you and in a sickening way you felt jealous that other girls had felt his cock before you did. He was your dad, didn’t it just make sense? 
“Knew you’d take it so well, pussy was made for me, yeah?” He grunts out as he bottoms completely, hips nearly flush with yours and hands pressing your thighs down firmly to open you as wide as possible. And it all felt impossibly good, better than anything you’d ever had before. 
You nod your head dumbly, still thick with the pain from his slap and the afterglow of your earlier orgasm. 
He doesn’t start with a soft pace, not that you really expected him too. Clearly it had worked him up, the time he’d spent lavishing your cunt with attention and the thought made you feel strangely proud at having been the reason your stepfather was painfully hard and fucking you into the mattress with abandon. The pace was so brutal all you could do was hang on to the restraint, feeling your breasts bouncing wildly as he gripped your legs so hard it would definitely leave bruises in the morning. 
“You take it so much better than any of the others,” his voice is strained, probably from the way your clamping down around him and the way your walls are massaging his cock frantically, as if you need his load or you’ll die. 
A thought pops into your mind and you squeak it out before you can stop yourself. “Your favorite, dad?” 
“Ah fuck, yeah you’re my favorite baby.” His head tips back as he lets go of your legs to grab your hips, yanking you up a bit more than what your current position allows but the pain of it feels delicious in tandem with the way his cock rams against your cervix, another round of tears falling as your mouth drops open in a silent wail.
The way hes holding you open makes you feel like you’ll snap into a million pieces, it’s all so suddenly overwhelming and you don’t notice the way his thrusts become sloppier, his moans more unintelligable as he pushes even deeper inside you with every internal push. And suddenly hes caging you, gripping your face again but not to squish your cheeks it’s clearly to force you to look at him and you do, eyes blown wide and still wet with saltwater. His own fairytale blue eyes lock with yours before his lips crash against your own, all clicking teeth and sliding tongues, uncaring towards the spit leaking from the corners of your mouth as you squeal into the surprise kiss. 
Whats more shocking is how good it feels, as if what you needed to completely tip you over that insane edge was his kiss, all consuming and blotting out any lingering thoughts of how wrong this all was. And it worked, suddenly you had no qualms about chanting his name like a prayer as he rubbed our clit once more, desperately trying to get you over the edge with him again. 
As that coil snaps inside your body and the rush of endorphins flood your brain you’re struck by the thought that nobody could ever make you cum like he has, and how even though he hasn’t even pulled out yet you already want him to do it again. 
And its then that you feel it, that thick gooey warmth spreading inside your pussy as he gives one last thrust, as if he could shove all of himself inside you. Between kisses and the grinding of his hips, like he wanted to keep fucking his cum inside you, something shifts fully. An irreparable rearrangement of your mind. Of course looking through his things was wrong, any parent punishes their child for being naughty no matter how old they are. And really, your lucky your dad cares so much about you that he let you cum twice, let you feel his cock stretch you out and kissed you while you cried. 
He even came inside you, so you can be good for him now, right? 
Apparently you’d been speaking aloud as he rubbed his hand over your tummy, pressing down slightly as he pulled out to watch the way his cum oozed out of your exhausted pussy. 
“That’s right honey, see you are my smart girl. And if you’re real good daddy can fill you up again, would you like that?” 
You nod blearily, feeling utterly boneless against the rumpled sweat soaked sheets. 
“I know you’ll behave, my good girl. Better than your mom, anyway.” He says offhandedly as he rises, grabbing his hastily tossed clothes, and you can’t help the way you shiver at that. The vague threat tugs at your mind but for now you decide to shove it away. 
All that matters is being as good as possible. 
And maybe getting on birth control. 
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yuoimia · 10 months
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DAY 3: IT’S JUST THE TWO OF US ❅⋆⍋
summary: a cozy vacation spent in another nation
characters: neuvillette, xiao, baizhu, wanderer, ayato, kaeya, childe, lyney, albedo, zhongli, wriothesley, venti, diluc, alhaitham, kazuha.
notes: locations handpicked by me!! these are general days in another nation, you’re not really doing anything too exhilarating, total wc: 1.8k.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist
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mondstadt, starfell lake - neuvillette, xiao, baizhu
Breezy and wide plains on the tops of jagged mountains, carrying a sweet breeze of berries and dandelions. Mondstadt, the nation of freedom, stole the hearts of numerous travelers, with its homely and cozy atmosphere, frolicking the winds all around Teyvat and coaxing the interest of many.
It was Mondstadt’s virtue that first drew him in. Freedom, peace, and comfort, the only things he has ever hoped, wished, yearned with every fibre of his being. Mondstadt sounded like a long-awaited exhalation of air, to finally breathe in a new breath of fresh opportunities and beginnings.
The earliest beams of sunshine crept through the sheer curtains.
If it were any other day, you’d let out a vexed groan before rolling to the other side. But today, today was another day in Mondstadt, and you’d be stupid to let any of the time go to waste.
Shoving the curtains aside, you observe in awe as Starfell Lakes glimmers like a pool of sapphire diamonds or like a flutter of fairies, their pixiedust sprinkling a bit of happiness into your day.
“It really is so beautiful here.”
The abrupt voice startles you for a split second. “Don’t creep up on me like that,” faux disappointment lacing your voice. He mutters a quiet apology before letting out a faint smile, interchangeably switching his gaze from you to the lake.
“Should we go outside?”
You nod in agreement, the excitement rejuvenating you even further. “If it’s this spectacular from afar, can you imagine how majestic it must be up close?”
“Very majestic,” he repeats, leading you both out the door.
liyue, jueyun karst - wanderer, ayato, kaeya
Dizzying peaks and swirling mists convey an atmosphere of grandeur and mystique, alluring visitors and their fascination towards the beauty of Jueyun Karst, rumoured to be the abode of the adepti, typically unreachable by mortals. Yet, there was always an abundance of people willing to test their luck and willpower, returning to tell dramatic tales of exaggerated perils and glory. Even so, there were still facts that none could deny about the quiet abode, namely, the distinctive tranquility fusing within its clouds.
It’s truly hard to believe that you weren’t a figure in a watercolor painting. Soft brushes of orange, yellow, and green leaves dance in the chilly breeze. The sound of approaching footsteps quickly snaps you out of your afternoon reverie as you turn your head towards a familiar face.
He greets you with an unsually innocent, lighthearted wave, accompanied with an intriguing wrapped basket. It doesn’t take much to piece together the pieces and present an overall message, not that he tried very hard to conceal it. Perhaps this vacation has muddled up parts of his cognitive functions.
“How are you feeling?” he inquires, the question evoking some sort of suspicion within you. “Hungry? Bored?” he continues, appearing oblivious to your raised eyebrows.
“…both?” you reply, a little confused and hesitant. “I won’t say no to some lunch.”
“Perfect, I found just the place.”
inazuma, chinju forest & grand narukami shrine - childe, lyney, albedo
Luminous flowers hidden deep in the forests, fragrant cherry blossoms lining the streets of Inazuma—the diverse variation of natural features that Inazuma beholds captivates the interest of those seeking something different, a thirst for something that simply cannot be found anywhere else.
Chinju forest, a secluded area of glowing streams and blooms, far enough from the attention of the city, and close enough to the allure of the grand shrines, a more than ideal option.
In the space of Chinju Forest, day was like night, and night was like day. There was really no hourglass here, where time ambled, the grains of sand dripping one at a time. It unlocked a rare sense of bliss, where no-one was obliged to be anything or do anything.
Despite the strong desire to explore the all-imposing Grand Narukami Shrine, the sheer amount of the flight of stairs that you needed to overcome was already giving you second thoughts.
“…Please don’t tell me…there’s more,” he groans, almost succumbing to his knees and screaming up at the sky. “How many stairs do you think we’ve walked up so far? I’ll say at least two hundred, maybe even two fifty.”
No words leave your mouth; there’s none in your head either; all you feel is a growing agonising pain in your calves and thighs. Short, tired pants take turns exiting your body, and you glance up at the new set of stairs—hopefully the last.
“Yeah, me too,” he replies, nodding understandingly as he recovers and hands you a bottle of chilled water. “Take your time, this is going to be a long one.”
After about ten minutes, you both set off again. To your utter confusion, he seems so energised, sprouting encouraging comments in the midst of silence. You’re thankful for the cheers of reassurance, but all that’s needed is a good night's rest under those glowing flowers and twinkling fireflies.
You don’t even realise for a good minute that you’ve reached the top. The sweat pooling along your clothes is an indicator of your mood—exhausted and sore all over.
Your name rings over the few other people gathered at the shrine as he eagerly hands you a fortune slip.
“Read it out loud; apparently it’s quite accurate.”
Modest Fortune: Clouds cover half the moon and the fog is thick.
Above you is the mood shrouded by cloud. Ahead of you, everything is engulfed by fog.
Though the way ahead seems unclear at the moment, all will become clear when the time comes.
Take this opportunity to improve yourself while waiting for the clouds to clear.
You’re not sure how to feel.
sumeru, port ormos - zhongli, wriothesley, venti
Port Ormos holds everything.
Marketing secrets, priceless treasures, and an aromatic scent of homemade dishes crafted with exotic spices and herbs, carrying through the refreshing winds of nearby seawater. It’s enticing—everything from the cultural architecture to the species of trees. Despite its prominence throughout Teyvat, it’s not as overcrowded as you originally thought it to be. Of course, it’s still busy, but everyone mostly keeps to themselves as they go on with their usual lives. At every new turn, you find yourself enamoured by the great variety of stores, keen to explore every inch of them, no matter how unrealistic that goal may appear.
Someone who’s probably more excited about being in the Port Ormos was probably the person trailing by your side. Out of the blue, he’d point and mutter an interesting fact, or occasionally go up to the store owner with a handful of questions, as you stood awkwardly behind him. It’s quite fine by you, though; the several friendships he’s established with owners have brought in handy discounts and bonuses.
“We should try out that new waterside restaurant,” he says one evening as you walk hand-in-hand by the docks, admiring the warm tones of a summer sunset blending together over the borders of clouds. “One of the vendors told me they have a special on Sundays.”
“Ah, a special,” you hum, amused. “Is that what caught your eye?”
“Special things always catch my eye,” he replies, a mischievous smile spreading on his face. “Would you like an example before we enter?”
You arrive at the entrance of the restaurant, and like mentioned, it boasts a stunning view of the clear and pristine waters, lapping at the edge.
There are floral garlands with small lights slithering across the corners of the ceilings, lit with blazing lamps, soft crackles of the flame add to the intimate atmosphere.
“If you insist, then sure,” you answer to his previous question. Your attention is more focused on searching the restaurant for a waiter to call.
“I think they might be standing right beside me.”
fontaine, elynas - diluc, alhaitham, kazuha
The cosmos present themselves in the elegant fashion of being subtle yet imperial, with millions of sparkling stars sprinkling all across Fontaine’s heavens, effortlessly illuminating the world underneath.
The pale streaks of moonlight gleam down onto the cascading waters and the array of flowers and shrubs, casting a magical afterglow that creates a bewitching sense of enchantment, like you were an illustration in an ancient storybook lost as the ages gone by.
Have you ever tried to paint at night? To become a midnight muse?
Cutting through the stillness were the delicate strokes of brushes on a canvas. It’s a smooth and soft sound, as the colours glide and complement each other.
You’re sitting opposite each other, one the muse of another.
With an air of finality, he looks up at you with a satisfied expression on his face as he begins to pack away the paintbrushes and palettes. Whether he’s content with his product is unknown. Nothing about his face or mannerisms convey an emotion, unless if you count the usual peaceful visage.
“Are you close to finishing?” he asks politely as he packs away the last of his equipment. “It’s alright if you haven't; those mountains aren’t exactly easy to get in the right shape.”
He’s right; the intricacies of Fontaine’s environment are undeniably striking and tedious to replicate, from the very details of the petals to the shade of grass.
You add the last few finishing touches before giving it one last, fleeting look.
“I’m finished.”
As you mutter those two words, something stirs in the air. The world suddenly feels so vastly beautiful, and this particular point in time feels so perfectly sacred that it couldn’t have been a mere coincidence, and you know it’s not.
You know that this very moment, this very vacation, this very night—you know that he must’ve planned this all along.
It was so sweet.
“Show me yours,” you suggest, crossing one leg over the other. Everything feels a thousand times more divine; everything feels so much more meaningful that it's imbedded into your head, in your guts; there's a doubt on whether it will ever leave.
“What’s got you so happy all of a sudden?” he asks lightheartedly. “Don’t raise your expectations too high; I can’t be an exception for everything.”
You’re just smiling, beaming up at the glittering stars, forever grateful for all the light they’ve bestowed upon you, because it’s been a while since you’ve last told them thank you.
Their splendour radiates down to your face; iridescent shimmers twinkle in the tears unknowingly sliding down your face.
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vvallent1ne · 2 months
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Taking What’s Not Yours
sebastian solace x gn reader :))
ehe. the hyperfixation is bad …
i honestly wrote this because a friend asked me to, so thank you to them!! 😊
wc: 1,401
small description: you haven’t seen sebastian in a good long while.
warnings: hugging, sexual innuendo(s)??, just a lot of tension overall tbh, seb is kinda 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, but nothing actually happens besides hugging you FREAKS, seb and reader both love each other 😊, small relationship doubts from reader, honestly just a very anxious reader altogether, seb is tall as fuck, reader is a human prisoner!!, reader is GENDER NEUTRAL !! 👏👏
song that inspired fic: taking what’s not yours by TV Girl !!
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This run around the Blacksite was particularly taxing. You’d been here for hours and you still haven’t gotten past door 45. The entities really seemed to have it out of for this time around, appearing more frequently than usual.
Maybe they were all just cranky today. You understood.
To make matters worse, you had accidentally flashed Eyefestation with your flash beacon out of fear and enraged it. Great. Just what you needed. You had also previously opened a false door out of pure impatience and got a big chunk of your health taken off. You were low on health and patience today.
Luckily, you knew that Sebastian’s room would be coming soon, and this realization brought a heat and hue to your cheeks. You were excited to see him. Him, a monster you once feared, turned into the man you were excited to see. You sighed to yourself, knowing that you were stupidly falling head over heels.
Soon enough, you had walked into room 49 and immediately heard the familiar sound of the metal of Sebastian’s vent hitting the concrete flooring. It used to startle you, but now, it brings you a sense of comfort.
“You know where to find me.” His sirenic voice cooed from inside the vent, practically drawing you in. You could feel your face slipping open with an idiotically happy smile as you began to maneuver down the vent.
“I know where to look.” You responded, your glee evident in your tone. How many days has it been, you wondered, since you had last seen him? Did he miss you, as you missed him? Did he share the same aching of your ribs, the enclosing feeling that you were far from the one you loved? You hoped he did.
You paused at the eye of the vent, right before his office, and furrowed your brows in worry. What if he wasn’t happy to see you? What if he was enjoying his break from you, a “silly human” as he liked to call you.
Were you reading too much into this, or too little?
“Hey now, you know I don’t bite… unless you want me to.” He teased, the last pasty said under his breath, but still heard by you. Your cheeks warmed, questioning if he truly did mean it in that way or not. You shook your disruptive thoughts out of your mind and continued to crawl outside of the vent and into Sebastian’s office.
You turned your body around so that you could land on your feet instead of your face. You had learned from a previous encounter that Sebastian was never going to let you live that down. Hell, even if you died, he wouldn’t let go of it.
“Woah now, don’t hurt that pretty face of yours again.” He chuckled, the memory flooding back into his mind. You noticed the small compliment thrown in with this teasing. Pretty, huh? He should look in a mirror. The realization soon set in that he had called your face … pretty? You felt your entire body heat up once again. Why was he being so flirtatious today?
Throughout you two’s relationship, though only having begun a few weeks ago, Sebastian had never been this charming with his compliments or as… direct with his innuendos. This side of him seemed like a completely different person. What had changed about him since you were gone?
You made a conscious effort to ignore his fluster-inducing compliment and made sure to land securely on your feet. You looked a bit to the right, expecting him to be in his normal place.
Instead, your eyes caught view of him practically right in front of you, his height towering over you like a human to an ant. That was also, coincidentally, how you felt around him as of now. Like a small, crushable ant.
You had to crane your neck all the way up to look him in his three eyes, and you noticed that each of them lingered only on you. It felt weird to have so much of his attention on you all at one time, you were practically squirming under his vice-like gaze.
“Long time no see,” You spoke, trying to alleviate the awkward tension you were feeling. Sebastian, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem with it. You moved around him, heading towards his tail to hopefully be cleared of his stare, but it was of no use. “How’ve you been?” You asked genuinely. You were told once that the best way to get someone’s attention off of you, was to get them to talk about themselves.
However, Sebastian just stared at you, as apathetic as ever. You guessed that he saw through your tactic, and you were now suddenly very nervous. He slithered his tail away from you, right as you were about to buy a first aid kit for your wounds, and came towards you with his upper body.
He lowered himself down as far as he could without discomfort, and his arms were around you in an instant. You stood there, still, unmoving, for at least seven seconds. Your mouth gaped and your eyes shot wide open, not at all expecting his gesture. You eventually snapped out of your dazed state and wrapped your two, music smaller arms, around his neck.
Despite being a combination of a bunch of cold-blooded fish, he was still the warmest thing you’ve ever felt. You practically melted into the hug, and he grasped your waist with two hands to keep you upright. His other hand came to the back of your head, pushing you into his clothed chest and playing with your hair.
So this was heaven, huh?
You’ve never felt so loved, so doted over, so cared for. All of the horrors from outside these four walls faded into a distant memory in the back of your head. That’s what Sebastian did. He protected you, inside and out, and held you like you were the most important thing in the world to him, and you held him the same. Because it was true. You were his world, and he, yours. Any and all of your doubts about him from your time away dispersed the second he touched you, held you, loved you.
In a place where there was no love to be found, he gave you the supply you had been missing. And so did you.
“Cut the small talk, I’ve missed you so.” He spoke in a hushed whisper against the shell of your right ear. You reddened immediately, however you weren’t sure if it was because of his words, or the fact that he was so close to you. Maybe both.
“Really?” You spoke, a teasing lilt in your voice. You hadn’t even realized how sultry it had sounded until it came out of your mouth. Your eyes widened m, fearing his reply, and praying it wouldn’t come with more teasing—you don’t think you could candle any more of it.
“Of course I do, I have no customers as great and pulchritudinous as you.” He replied, every word sounding genuine. You weren’t quite sure what that last adjective was, but you were blushing anyway. Damn him and his attractively wide vocabulary.
“You best not.” You spit back, unbridled jealousy obvious in your tone. You were too tired to try and hide it. Plus, Sebastian figures out everything you seem to be hiding regardless. He seemed to see through you almost, as if you were made of glass.
He gripped your hips tighter at the covetousness dripping from your words, his claws lightly grazing your skin through your diving gear.
“Oh, is that so?” He chuckled before smugly smirking down at your face, buried in his rumbling chest. “My, do you truly believe that anyone else could make me feel the things that you do, mon chéri?” He finished his teasing question by prying your head off his chest, using his third hand to grip your smaller chin, forcing you to look at him when you answered.
“I don’t know how I make you feel…” You trailed off. His eyes on your face, your cheeks, your lips, made you doubt anything you had said. You wanted him to approve of you so, so badly.
He looked down at you with an almost predatory hunger. His eyes became half-lidded as he leaned down to face you head-on.
“Would you like me to show you?”
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k-aay · 4 months
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WHAT... MY GIRL?
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synopsis :: when their friend confesses to liking a certain someone that they are very familiar with. but they cannot do anything since they're supposed to keep the relationship a secret. and it's someone they'll never let go no matter how close they are. so what do they do in that situation? featuring :: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna (part 2/2)
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☆ CHOSO
He sits along the bleachers, watching as you practice with the students and have fun. It's the most beautiful sight: you smiling and laughing while being yourself with others. Seeing that brings a shade of pink to his cheeks, making him feel all warm inside. "Hey," Choso recognizes the voice of his brother beside him. The boy takes a seat beside him, happily admiring the view Choso had seen before. "What's making you so happy today?" Yuji questions. Choso shrugs his shoulders, trying to play cool as he remembers your orders about not telling anyone about your relationship yet. "Nothing."
Being his older brother, Choso noticed everything about Yuji. How he acted when he was embarrassed, upset, happy and as of right now, conflicted. He had something weighing on his mind and Choso spotted that immediately. "What happened?" he breaks the silence, catching Yuji off-guard. He takes a moment to think before sighing. "Okay, you promise you won't tell anyone?" Choso nods his head. "y/n," he speaks, pointing at you. In that moment, the older brother knew what was going on but didn't want to give in to that thought.
He didn't want to admit the fact that his younger sibling had a crush on you. His girlfriend. His partner. "What about her?" he questions, sounding more panicked by the minute. "I like her," Yuji admits. "She's funny, smart and a good person overall!" Of course, Choso knew all of that already. You were everything Yuji described you as and more. He couldn't blame him for falling for you. Even Choso fell head over heels all over again just by the sight of you smiling.
"I know," Choso mumbles shortly after Yuji spoke. "Sorry, I didn't hear you properly. What'd you say?" He could feel a mix of emotions rising but only one of them was clear enough to him: jealousy. "You can't like her. I'm sorry but she's my girlfriend. I don't think I could let go of her so easily."
☆ TOJI
The man watched as his friend, Shiu filled out a few documents lying on the table. Toji knew him well enough that he barely made any mistakes at all. But spilled coffee and papers that were messily completed were all he needed to know to prove that his friend was distracted. Something was on his mind. "The hell is wrong with you?" he asks. "Got a new girlfriend?" Shiu rolls his eyes and continues with his work. "Nothing's wrong with me. And no, I don't have a new girlfriend." Toji lifts his feet and puts them on the nearby coffee table placed in front of him. "Bullshit. Something's wrong."
The sigh that escaped his lips signalled that he was on the edge of venting what was on his mind. "You know the girl that transferred here like a few months ago?" Toji takes a moment to think before something snaps together, "y/n?" Shiu nods his head. "I asked her out the other day but she turned me down and hasn't really spoken to me since." Normally, the man with his feet on the table would've been laughing and teasing his friend about this. This time, seriousness pooled over and left him annoyed and the reason was none other than you. "You asked y/n out?"
Shiu could've been attracted to anyone but of course, it had to be you. With your beautiful face, your intriguing personality and the way you make other people feel. Especially Toji. You made him feel alive in so many different ways no one could ever come close to. "... Yeah?" Shiu answered, causing the other to scoff. "Really, man? You had to ask out my girl?"
"Your girl?" Shiu repeated. "Yes. Don't you ever fucking walk up to her again, alright?"
☆ SUKUNA
He was a lot of things but jealous was never one of them. And he would love to continue that streak. Feeling such a thing for a person he could easily kill? He would rather die himself. You brought him to a party which was, in your opinion, a bad idea now that you really thought about it later on. He was uninterested in everything others did in the crowded place you people called "fun." That's when he saw someone he recognized before while you were chatting with others. They walked up to Sukuna, a blank expression on their face. "Uraume?" he speaks.
"Did you get dragged here too?" they question. Sukuna nods in response, watching as you talk with some guy. "Do you know who that is?" Uraume nods their head, "Yeah. He was running around the entire place earlier and hitting on random women." A feeling within him struck and burned. "Now that I think about it, he did have a thing for y/n." That was more than enough reason to interrupt the chat you were having with this ass. Maybe it was for the reason of your safety, but he couldn't deny the sunken feeling he had in his chest. Jealousy.
It wasn't as bad as he thought. In reality, it gave him a rush. Knowing that you wouldn't dare to be with anyone other than him filled Sukuna with all the reassurance he needed. Also knowing that he could rip off all the limbs of the low-lives who even thought of talking to you to take what was already set as his made his blood boil even more (in a good way?) He stood behind you, placing his arm around your waist.
"Who's your friend here?" he asks carefully, glaring at the so-called "man" in front of him. "Just... someone," you spoke. He lowered his head so his lips reached your ear, "Tell this 'someone' that you have to leave early before he's never seen again."
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