#AT THE TIME I HONEST TO GOD THOUGHT I HAD REACHED MY PEAK ART AND STYLE
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I KEEP LOOKING AT MY 2018 ART AND JUST BEING LIKE "WHY DID IT LOOK LIKE THAAAAAAT 😭"
#I APPRECIATE EVERYONE WHO LOVED MY ART BACK THEN OR EVEN STILL THINK IT LOOKS GOOD !!!#i respect ur opinion even if i wholly disagree with it <3#i dont mean to make anyone feel bad if they think that art is still really good. i dont mean to if thats the case#but god it hurts me to look at. LOL. because like#not only did it just. not look good#but i THOUGHT IT WAS MY PEAK YEAR??????#AT THE TIME I HONEST TO GOD THOUGHT I HAD REACHED MY PEAK ART AND STYLE#JUST KNOWING THAT HURTS LIKE. GIRL? FR? YOU THOUGHT /THAT/ WAS IT?#good lord. it just baffles me how far ive come but im also SO thankful lol
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happy early birthday Lizzi!
Can I get a bouquet of hyacinths? <3
What's your favorite chapter from the show and why?
And could you tell us a little bit more about your writing process? I really love your writing style and the way you portray Matt.
Thank you so much, nonnie!
You ask and you shall receive.
I’m a Season 3 girlie through and through! Matt’s crisis of faith, the grief of getting Elektra back—and he did love her in a way he never loved anyone before—just to lose her again, not to speak of how well Charlie portrayed the depression aspects of it all, it’s just peak cinema for me.
I relate to Matt in so many ways. Being beaten down (metaphorically), feeling detached from myself and just… struggling, if you know what I mean. Matt, too, was broken in S3 and had to claw his way out of that hole just to get his life back. Get his friends back. The friends he thought he’d already lost. Because he pushed them away and continued to push them away until the very end. He had to walk through hell to find back to himself—yes, his own behavior is also a reason for why some of the shit that happened actually happened, but to me, it just shows how human he is. And after the last episode, I like to think he finally reached a stage of acceptance. As much as I love seeing that dark and broody side of him, I also just want this man to be happy.
As for my writing process, I had to really think about that one. I’m not really a planner, to be honest. Or, I like to write things down but most of my stories take a form of their own once I actually start writing, and then I just roll with it.
My thought process with my shorter fics is almost always ‘Oh, I have an idea! Let me write an awful first draft and then edit the shit out of it!’ It’s either that or I end up posting the first draft and let Tumblr decide if they like it or not. I also like to write while watching Daredevil (I pick the season by the version of Matt I’m imagining).
For my longer fics, however, like Do No Harm and Foreigner’s God, I plan. Like, a lot. When I first started writing Foreigner’s God, I didn’t plan a thing (and I personally think that’s noticeable), but now I’m actually putting in the time and work to build a series that makes sense. The same goes for every other ongoing work I have; if it takes a long time, I’m planning, and since I can’t always plan ahead, I sometimes take a break from certain works to get the story straight in my head.
With Do No Harm I had Olivia’s entire backstory planned before I even started writing. That’s the first fic I really planned out from top to bottom. I wrote down even the smallest plot points I could think of and started planning the chapters accordingly. I also take notes on the episodes I’m watching to make sure I stick to my timeline while still defying the canon.
What I also do before writing is create a Pinterest board and a Spotify playlist to listen to while I plan and write. The aesthetic I pick sets the tone. Like angst, fluff, or smut, you name it. The songs I listen to help me get into the heads of my characters. It helps me build their personalities. Using other forms of art like music or looking at photographs is actually a great way to get inspiration.
Names and stuff like that are all the product of hours spent on baby name websites and me trying to get rid of the ads trying to sell me baby stuff because Google’s convinced I’m pregnant, but that again is restricted to my longer fics. One Shots don’t require that much research, just all of my focus to get the point across without getting carried away. Like descriptive writing and dialogue and adding plot without being too overbearing, depending on the word count I have in mind.
And then I just continue to dissociate and live out the scenes I want to write instead of actually writing them until I finally manage to put down a coherent sentence. That’s about it.
Anyway. That was fun. And a lot.
Nonnie, yours is the only hyacinth bouquet I received and I am so happy you chose to request that. Thank you 🤍
#every authors has their own way of writing and i loved sharing mine!#Lizzi’s birthday bouquets 2025!#lizzi talks#daredevil#matt murdock#fic writing#writing process
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11/30/23
Hi all. This is just a little prologue for my last poem of November. It's a long one.
First, thank y'all for all the likes and follows. I honestly wasn't expecting any of this to be seen. I appreciate y'all joining me in this poem writing journey.
Today is the last day of November, and the last day of my challenge. Although I may not write a poem everyday anymore, I'll still try to write one when I feel inspired. Maybe every other day. Maybe every week. Not sure yet. However, I will be keeping this account active.
I also want to use this Tumblr to post some of my art. I've had a Wacom tablet collecting dust for years now, and I'd like to use it to finally make the stories I've cooked up in my head come to life.
Please enjoy my last poem. To be honest..... I'm not even sure if this counts as one? It's quite long, and actually the first one I wrote. I'd like to make edits, but figured I'd post it as is. I wrote it at around 2am. Bear with me.
Poem 30
Nov. 30, 2023
I grieve for people I have not yet lost
For tragedies that have not yet passed
For stories that have not yet closed
For pain that has yet to be realized
Hellbent on hurting myself before the universe has the opportunity
Maybe it's to soften the blow?
I’m simply grieving the inevitable, no?
If my fantasies are indeed more tragic that my realities
The latter cannot hurt me
If my mind can be more cruel than fate
I have nothing to fear
Night after night I dream of the worst scenarios
Obsess over what could go wrong
Fight peace
Sleep with ghosts
Weighed down by the things I’m too weak to tell you
Death looms over me
An adversary of my own construction
I’ve looked into death’s eyes
And saw nothing
Absolutely devoid of meaning
Of emotion
No love
No malice
Not as though it could distinguish the two, anyway
The thought itself is suffocating
I miss you but you’re still here
I loathe the thought of the world spinning in my absence
I may choke on my own thoughts
I’d hate to make you worry over nothing
But what if it’s not nothing this time?
What if it’s NOT nothing this time?
Your reassurance does nothing to quell my fears
It’s not rational
I know it’s not
Something awoke inside me that day
That simply cannot be put back to rest
So I lie with it
Night after night
Even our happy times are now tinged with sadness
I am consumed by the realization that this cannot last forever
That one night will be the last night you’ll rest beside me
That, try as I might, I can’t hold onto this forever
Is it selfish to ask you to stay here?
To stay chained to me forever?
To follow me for eternity?
To drown with me?
I desperately want you to make promises to me that you can’t keep
The small voice in the back of my head has become loud and incessant
I want you to have the peace I can’t seem to find
Truth is
I will never be satisfied
No matter the amount of time I cherish with you
I’ll be bitter over the time missed
Ten days
Ten years
Ten decades
It makes no difference to me
Anything less than an eternity is a slight
So I soak in my bitterness
Night after night
I ache thinking of what you’d do
If I left this realm before you
How your feeling for me may fade
How one day you’ll seldom think of me
How the void I left may one day be filled
How you may one day forget how I made you complete
How many true loves can you have in one lifetime?
For my own sake
I hope to God
It’s only one
May no one else ever pour into your well
I admit
I hope you suffer in my absence
I hope my memory consumes you
I hope my ghost haunts you
That our paths end at the same point
That you may never quite reach the peaks you did with me
That you can be content, but never truly happy again
That you carry me with you forever
That you act as if I’m still there
That you still love me
That you can never escape me
I don’t want you to love anyone else
The way you love me
How deranged, right?
Your love inspires me to be incredibly selfish
To want the worst for you
Because it works best for me
So I revel in my hateful thoughts
Night after night
Praying to none
That you never recognize
The darkness sat beside you
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I have the moon
Warnings: Quick ish Smut, 18+
Info : It’s Ellie and readers first night at their new house, that used to be Joel’s.
A/n: srry if it’s terrible, i’ve been busy and just not in the mood to write if i’m being honest but yeahhh also I would love to have requests that obviously fit within the story line because I’m getting a bit dry :))
•
The boxes were full and ready to go. It took about a month to pack up and completely move into Joel’s farmhouse.
It was strange seeing your apartment empty. You had lived here on your own for so many years before Ellie came along. The furniture had changed over the years, and pretty much everything did due to Ellie moving in, having dogs, they suddenly die, having cats, and they suddenly died as well. But this time, it was finally empty, it looked like it did when you had first bought it. It looked like you kept it the same all these years.
You handed the key to your landlord, Britt, she was always fun and kept you company before Ellie, when you were depressed about your job, or anything really. It was hard seeing you go and you felt the same of course. She held you in the tightest hug and it felt like a stab in your heart. But you wanted this, so you weren’t really worried about how you’d feel in a few days.
Ellie waited for you in the car. When you got inside, you immediately noticed the constant smile on her face, she would try hiding it but you could tell, and god that made you feel so good.
It was a long month. From the wedding, to Joel dying, and now this, moving five hours from the city into a rural town where you two would be basically separated from everything, it was a lot. Now you were ready to get to your new home and nap it all off.
•
Jesse, Dina, Tommy, and Maria had all helped move us in throughout the week, and make things comfortable for us. Dina couldn’t get over the countryside and Jesse was irritated by her constantly whining to move closer to us as their baby, JJ, spilled his juice everywhere and made a mess. You were ready for them to leave. Reaching over to pull JJ away, from potentially making another huge mess, Dina calls you to the kitchen.
You were close to losing your temper but instead just ignored it, maybe Ellie will do something.
“Yea?”
“I love these counters, I have a friend if you guys ever need a renovator.” Dina told you as she took out something from the oven, your attention immediately going there.
“Yea I know, What’s that in the oven?”
“My special banana bread, so you can think of me when we leave.”
It was literally all you wanted right now.
“Thanks Dina. I’m going to miss you. And that baby of yours.”
•
As for Ellie, she had been fine, for the most part. She hadn’t completely opened up about how she was feeling but you knew it was passing by. Passing by as in, she was accepting that she’ll never talk to Joel again, not that she’s getting over it and forgetting about him- she’ll never forget him, it was her dad. There was a glow that sat beautifully on her face and it was the same glow she had when you two got married, when you two would be in each other’s presence. It seemed that was her way of telling you but not telling you either that she was content and you loved it.
Your head peaked out of the kitchen once again to look at Ellie, JJ and Jesse in the living room. Ellie had been playing with JJ and you couldn’t help but lose your train of thought. It was so cute when she did that.
•
Dina, Jesse, and JJ were finally leaving. You were going to miss your best friend as she wasn’t just down the street anymore, she was five hours away. Her baby was getting older, and soon it was time she would have to start paying full attention to him so the chances of regular communication were getting lower.
You couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken.
•
After everyone left, you devoured the banana bread with a large cup of milk, leaning over the counter, nitpicking everything in your head about this house.
You remembered Ellie had been setting up her art room, it was a nice size and way better than the balcony at the apartment. You cleaned yourself up and walked to the room.
The door was slightly open and the room had been quiet, only Ellie’s humming being heard.
You knocked on the door.
“Come in.” Ellie said softly and you walked in. Shutting the door behind you, trying to not disturb the peacefulness.
“It’s late, do you want to come to bed?” You asked as you watched her draw yet another portrait of Joel.
She yawned and put down her pencil. She didn’t answer your question and instead walked over to you and hugged your waist while kissing down your soft neck. She pulled away, “Let’s go.” She stretched her long arm out for you as she opened the door, leading you to your new bedroom.
The bedroom was large, with a walk in closet, a bathroom and a beautiful large window that wasn’t covered with curtains for the purpose of the countryside view.
The room was obviously empty only with a bed that had pastel yellow sheets Maria had bought. You sat down on the bed as Ellie followed. She sat and watched you take off your pants leaving you only in your underwear and a slightly large shirt, Ellie had done the same only her top half was completely bare.
•
It was the middle of the night in the new house, the first night you two had slept there. It had a creepy feel to it. It was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the large window you had been facing. From the window where you had been lying down, you got a nice view of the farm and the night sky, and also an occasional few cars that would pass by.
It was so hot that you had been fighting with the blankets all night, whether they should be on or off. Looking over at Ellie, she had seemed to be sleeping like a baby. You continue to look at the window while laying down, eyes wandering all over the place. The time was 2:00 a.m. It was going to be a long night.
Sweat begins forming on your back, causing you to pull your shirt off, now only in your undergarments.
“I’m going to go look for a fan. I think he had one in the attic.” Ellie just randomly blurs out causing you to look at her, startled.
“Please, baby it’s so hot.” You say as you lean over to the small chair beside the bed and grab the water bottle, desperately chugging it again. As you did that, Ellie leaves to look for a fan.
•
What had felt like forever, Ellie finally arrives with a fan. It was a decent size and was perfect. As Ellie plugs it in, you unclip your bra and let all of the cool air hit you before lying back in the bed, covering yourself with the blanket.
You hear Ellie rumbling into bed, a lot closer than before, wrapping her arm around your body, pulling you closer. It felt so nice to have her this close, as she really hadn’t been willing to for a few months. Also with the heat, you’d just hate being that close.
Ellie takes her warm and soft lips, and presses it on your neck. Kissing you up and down, you closed your eyes hoping she wasn’t just giving you a goodnights kiss but wanted more.
You pull your blanket down from your face to show her your exposed breasts, ready to be caressed and sucked on (lmfao idk how else to say it).
She looks at you with a slight smile before kissing your temple. “Please..” You whisper, grabbing her head with both of your hands, she knew exactly what you wanted. You adjusted your position, lying on your back, waiting for Ellie to slip under the sheet.
Ellie and you hadn’t been together like this in a while, considering everything she’s been through and the missed honeymoon. You can see it on Ellie’s face, she felt so good at this moment. Her face was lit up and the light coming from the night sky reflected on her face.
Ellie kissing down your neck, you move your hand over to caress her soft, slightly greasy hair. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you whisper, “I love you.” She breaks the kiss, whispering the same back to you before continuing to kiss, getting lower with each one.
At this point, you both knew exactly where this was going, it was one of Ellie’s favorite ways to make you smile. You spread your legs a bit further, allowing Ellie to have some space. You desperately throw the blanket off of the both of you to be able to see her. Her strong hands hold down both of your legs, her eyes lock with yours as she begins licking you right where you wanted her to. Your eyes begin to look drowsy as Ellie begins to pick up the pace. As you moan loudly, you notice Ellie smiling at you making your sounds every once and a while. Seeing her do that made you want more, you loved seeing her that way. You throw your head back into the fluffy, white pillow, grabbing onto anything that was in your region as Ellie relentlessly pleased you with her wet, warm tongue.
you were a mess and by the time you were able to let it all out over Ellie’s sweaty face, you were covered in your own sweat, sitting up on elbows, looking at Ellie get up and move towards you.
Ellie grabbed the blanket nearby and covered you and herself up. You immediately wrap your body around hers, pressing light kisses to her face.
“I forgot how much I love doing that.” Ellie says as you slowly begin to open your eyes.
You propped your head up on your elbow, leaning into Ellie more, caressing your hard, short nails up and down her back. “It looked like you really needed that.”
“Yeah, I think us moving into this house, and getting to do that, makes me feel better.” Ellie struggled to say but it was genuine and you knew she’d be back on her feet again in about another week.
You didn’t know what to say, Ellie’s smile forming on her face effortlessly put you in awe and it left you there once again, staring at her because sometimes that’s all you could do. She appreciated it either way.
.
A/N: I suck at comforting ppl irl and it rlly shows in these stories, and this took me long cuz I can’t bring myself to write smut correctly so i was a little insecure but whatevererrr
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Tales of The Ghost Writer
“You met Xingqiu at Wanwen Bookhouse when delivering a batch of your newly-published book. But as a ghost writer, no one knew it was you that authored such books. Safe to say it was cute watching the noble bookworm fanboy about you in front of you.”
Pairings -> Xingqiu x Author!Reader
Word Count -> 3518
Theme -> Long Fic, Fluff
Series -> #Bonafide specials (100 followers event)
Warnings -> Xingqiu's name might be mispelled at times, also he rambles a lot
Entry Log # 645:
I’ve once again delivered the new batch of books to Wanwen Bookhouse today at 4PM, 30 new books in collection to be sold. That would add up to a total of 420 published books for Legend of the Lone Sword. Despite its old circulation, collectors and avid bookworms still seek out the volumes. In a spur of the moment thought, the 4th volume was finally rereleased for more readers to get a chance to read them. While on my rounds, I’ve met a particularly peculiar fan.
“4th volume?” You nod as you set down the stack of books on the counter where Jifang stood behind with a welcoming smile. “Thank you, everyone has been asking about it for a while now. I don’t understand how people keep missing out on the last volume like so.” There was an exchange of giggles between you continued your idle chatter, busying yourself with recounting the stack to make sure the order placed was exact. Yep, 30.
You picked one up from the top pile as Jifang enters the bookhouse to gather the payment. It wasn't that much of a feat to carry a pile of 30 books when it's only this thick, you thought as you opened the book in the middle and... buried your nose in it, literally. Archons, the scent of freshly printed books had always been such a stress reliever of a kind. The imprints were still fresh as you run your thumb over the pristine white page of page 75, the gravings of the letter bumping it in such an intricate and endearing manner. You suppose it should be prime time you get a copy of your own-
"Ah, the glorious scent fresh books offer are quite irresistible to everyone," your head whipped to the side in a hurry at the embarrassing display. Yet your new company only offered a light-hearted laugh, floaty and flowing swiftly past his lips. You find it enjoyable to listen to. "Fret not, I don't judge such honest guilty pleasure."
His smile was soft and respectful as you return it, watching his hand (wrists largely ruffled) pick up the next book on the pile, his interest shining the more he recognizes the the piece of literature. Such expensive clothing and poise, you thought as you continued to inspect. "I knew Wanwen had a schedule of new releases today, but I was not informed it would be the 4th volume of the Legend of the Lone Sword!"
"A fan?" You mused as you placed back the copy you took, leaning against the counter as you watched him quickly scan the lines of the book. He was intensely staring at every word with such a calculating gaze, that sometimes break when he reads how the character would sometimes reach an impasse, or when a new discovery reaches its peak. His ardent gaze was enough of an answer. When he took a break from reading to pass you his attention, you hadn't realize how red your cheeks had been out of embarrassment. "I've always wanted to get my hands on my own copy of the 4th, yet everytime all bookhouses in Liyue keep running out of stock. Is delivery normally this scarce?" He'd gestured at the not so looming pile.
You nod in response with a forgoing giggle. "Publishing could be running into some... shortness of funds?" Subtle, yet he hums in disappointment at the thought. His little pout, adorable, as he buries his face in the book again. I would gladly fund such glorious writing, you thought you heard past the leather back before the ornate doors past the counter finally opened again.
"Ah sorry it took so long, I couldn't find the exact pouch for the- hey! You again, you've read and been scolded dozens of times already," the woman angrily gestures to the notice board by the table, "Pay first, read later!"
You snorted, thankfully masked by the sudden cry of the caught culprit as he was smacked (hopefully gently) on the head by the owner, forcing him to put back the book to the pile. "Hnghh, but Lady Jifang! You didn't scold her, she was indulging herself with the book just the same," you breathed a fake gasp of astounded betrayal, before you three had laughed in chorus.
The oldest of your trio scoffed in amusement as she placed the bag of Mora unto your waiting hand. "What, her? Why would I scold her, she probably knows every word like the back of her ha-" her rambling was then cut off by a loud smack on her bottom, a book expertly finding its way back to your hand with a perfectly cut smile. Her yelp was not unnoticed by the male as he laughs at the display.
"Let him be, he's really been patiently waiting for the release!" Jifang scoffs at the word patiently as you came to the defense of blunette. You were never really aware of the norm in Wanwen, as you usually come by at a time where you would have been alone. This was a first.
"Quite so! Just the start of the volume had me hooked, setting for the peak of the story climax! The synopsis itself already hinted of another inclusion of a new element into the story I had not expected from this style of a book, surely such a writer would not tread such parallel territory without being an expert teller-" Jifang watched in amusement as her gaze lands on you at the start of the bookworm's rambling, watching the redness touch the tip of your ear with an abashed smile shyly gracing your lips. Behind it she can see the mirth and amusement, something she outwardly shows with her own expression.
"Wow," was the Liyuean woman's only response once the speaker has finished his lengthy speech. His dorkiness stands with pride at his examination.
You cleared your throat before you could mutter your initial words, finally realizing the time. "That was... quite marvelous of an analysis. A-Anywaysss, thank you for your partnership, I hope the books are all sold by tomorrow!"
And with that you swiftly made your exit, wanting to find a place to scream the embarrassment out. Or maybe squeal, just to be subtle.
Entry Log # 15:
As a distant relative to the Guhua clan, the (L/N) clan was not exactly known to be tied closely to the prestigious clan known for their expert martial. However, despite the impure connection, they carry with them still the honor of learning the arts to a meticulous detail.
Your family was one of the living practitioners of the Guhua Arts, twice removed, yet your spotlight was not that obvious as the name would carry. Your father wish to carry a new kind of prestige without relying on the powerful namesake and he had been adamant since birth to grind every teaching and form of the art into his immediate family.
"Misogyny nor feminism will not save you from battle, only your own strength." Something along those lines, was what he said.
Your eldest brother was his main point of reference when scolding you on not taking your lessons properly. A slacker he is, now he lacks not only a means of security but also financial stability, that's what you end up to if you don't treasure the arts of our family. You have no idea how martial arts brings you monetary security, but you can't really state to your own father that his logic was a bit skewed.
Daily during morning and the first touch of evening, you had resigned yourself into training under your father's supervision. As the eldest daughter of the house, you carry with you still a responsibility to be strong. No fraility was accepted, and your mother always argues about your father's ever so masculine lifestyle being imposed on you, a lady that should be taught other customs for means of living.
Yet after every session, at the end of the day under the caress of the lamp by your study table, your hands move with precision and calmness he would have scoffed at in the dojo. The beauty of words and their power to create new worlds effortlessly had drawn you in too easily, ever since you were young you had a knack for the books your mother reads to herself or to you.
Entry Log # 651:
The next time you'd met the Wanwen Bookworm (nickname you gave) was a rare moment when he'd finally looked at you more than the book in his hand. It seemed your little interaction from the bookhouse was attention-grabbing enough to make him seek out your person with a bunch of questions and wonder.
You gulped, patting down your blue skirt before accompanying him. The way he rambles was too dangerous, it was drawing something within you to also do the same, and you feared you may let out something you shouldn't. But a fellow 'reader' is good company, and with the little interactions you had with the same age group with the same interest makes this moment something you can't pass.
"Carrier to the Yae Publishing House?" You nodded calculatedly, after confirming you've said just the right information. "Quite intriguing, especially with such young age to be working in line with the greatest press house in Teyvat." Ohhh, he's surely smart despite the first impression of goofiness.
You giggled as politely as you can remember you should upon the scarce teachings of your mother. "I've always liked literature so I couldn't uhm let the opportunity pass, even if it's insignificant like that." Good, good, piling up the lies. You're grateful you haven't made some contract of friendship and happen upon the wrath of your nation's God. Or Qixing.
"Surely, you must have been in the presence of some of the wordsmiths during your rendezvous! So tell me," there was a dangerous glint in his eyes and you knew exactly what he's gonna ask, "Have you met the legendary Bob Ong?"
Oh goodness, you felt him caress and pat your back as you tried your best to breathe after the sudden choking on nothing, he was so spot on that you were horrified even if you had an inkling of what he was gonna inquire. "I uhm I don't really know what I'm allowed to say." In the inside you were goddamn screaming.
"You don't have to tell me anything about him, really! It's his mystery that makes his character just the most intriguing." You gulped down hard, this time without choking out of nothing. "I don't really know much about who he is since he's, you know, unknown? No clues whatsoever, he could be anywhere right now, maybe you've talked to him already or no. Yeah?"
He held a convincing hum before taking in the cryptic answer, content, for now you assume. "Not many avid readers of the book can place a name to the unnamed author, but how blind they were to see the cryptic signature at the back of the cover. Truly a wonderous act." Xingqiu, you finally learned his name, had took you out to lunch for the trouble and enjoyment. It wasn't really necessary, but you figured it was probably to keep you with him longer to converse about the books more.
A lot of his... analysis actually coincide with the messages that you lodged between the lines. He understands your way of narration more than you do at times, and you were left wondering just how much he had read of the fourth volume despite only having it for a few days then. When evening once again struck, you had bid each other farewell in the promise of another time to hang.
"It's a literature of love and freedom- disguised as a martial arts novel." Was his parting analysis, and you were left to wonder, was that really what you had projected into your works?
Entry Log # 32:
In your young and hopeful mind, you'd sent your first ever manuscript to Yae Publishing House. It wasn't your first work but it was the one you worked hard on the most, with weeks of furbishing and reworks. Your mother, although not directly informed of your whole plan, had provided you with great feedback and generous suggestions. And soon you created the first manuscript of 'String of Pearls'.
With a generous note and what you hoped is enough mora to at least publish a book, your package was sent to Inazuma.
You waited for days, of which turned to weeks, and then to months. You thought by the end of it all, you had been swindled but as young as you still hoped for the best of its outcome.
And then one day, as you were sweeping the outside of your gates in preparation for your father's return from some business in the harbor, a lone man of Inazuman style found its way to your humble abode. He calls himself Mr. Nine, and in his arms cradled two similar looking books, with a familiar envelope.
That was when you had been given the opportunity to write for the greatest Publishing House under the guise of a pseudonym. The great Nine was astounded by your ripeness paired with your prowess in writing. You hid behind Bob Ong, a protection from being belittled as a young child and a woman, to prevent being traced by your father if ever.
Yet you remained as subtle still. Even if your name was not written on the covers themselves, within your heart you were still the writers of those books. You've placed anagrams and mysterious puzzles revealing your name but it was part of the intrigue of the story that they had not thought much about it.
One day, you lost your book when you had gone out to eat. It was the second copy, as you carried the first one in your room, yet it still held a special place in your heart.
Xingqiu was a master novelist too, as you'd expect from someone so enthusiastic on the art of literature too. You'd long since become friends and found out soon enough his true identity. The heir to the Feiyun Commerce Guild, master practitioner of the Guhua Clan Arts, soon to be novelist. He was in every aspect the better half between you two.
One day in his daily reading breaks where he would happen upon you, he had found his eyes wafting over your notebook that you always carry. It was designed to look like a hard bound book specially tailored to your tastes, but it was nothing but mere keepers of your notes and musings.
Your newest page had in it a brand new draft for a brand new story you wanted to flesh out before the success of Legend of the Lone Sword diminishes. Mr. Nine still praised you for the success of your first major publishing and had assured you that there's no need to immediately compensate with another work so early, but your mind was already so eager to work. Your friend had never seen you so- flamed and passionate as the paper caves to the intense pressure your pencil places on it.
So he leans on your shoulder slightly (glad you were still distracted) as he quietly reads the words that articulates on the paper. The more Xingqiu reads, the more he craves, just the same vigor he felt everytime he had read his favorite works when each chapter invigorates him to continue to the end.
"Such a great outline," the blunette breathes out as he leans his cheek at the crown of your head. You let out a cute squeak when you'd finally come to, and turned your head to face him- "I didn't know you were into romance, my liege. Tell me, just where do you get such inspirations?" Your nose softly collided against the smoothness of his cheek, your lips ghosting over the line that is his jaw.
You scrambled backwards to direction opposite of his, yet with his body weight leaning on you, his center of balance quickly shifted on your weight like a net being pulled against the sides of a boat. You both toppled over.
"My, my, I didn't expect such abrupt resistance from you," Xingqiu's arms caged you as it holds him up against the grassland on either side of you. There was a certain mischievous glint in the ocean that is his eyes, which only meant one thing. "No need to be shy," you closed your eyes shut as his face leans in closer to yours, fanning over the frame of your face as he lets out a warm yet teasing exhale, "I'm sure we've gone past our personal bubbles in this relationship." You felt his chest against yours and braced for the inevitable-
as he finally licked your nose(?).
What.
"X-XINGQIUUUUU!" And then a cry of pain after a particularly harmful blow.
Entry Log # 659:
Xingqiu had always been a man of great words despite his chicken scratch of a penmanship. Vivid tales of his manuscript that I'm sure the Publishing House would take great value for, his years of memorizing numerous works in his arsenal. He told me that if I were to one day publish the manuscript, he wants to get the first copy and the first to get it signed. However Xingqiu has one glaring weakness when it comes to the art of words. When I asked him what would be a good title for the manuscript I made, he simply said, "Tales of the Writer!" And he sent a goofy smile. I thought he was joking, and I asked again, this time of what his work would be named. He replied:
"Why, Legend of Sword, of course!" He really sucks at titles.
Entry Log # 660:
Upon returning home with my new work ready to be shipped off for mass publishing, I've finally confronted my father. I had with me the final volume of my first work and offered it to him as first a gift of reconciliation, and my father took it with a mirthful glint in his eyes. He said he has been looking for the last volume of the series he'd been wanting to complete. I... I didn't know father was a fan.
The climax of my entire double-life ended so peacefully and tragically meh. I was expecting a martial arts fight of honor that will go down in history, but instead I ended up signing my own book as my father gushed about how nicely I illustrated the martial arts teaching we had during our sessions. I did not sleep well that night.
October 9th was a day celebrated by others more than the young master Xingqiu. The pavilion was mixed in with people from different walks of life and of faces he doesn't necessarily recognize. He lingers by the open window that shows the grandeur balcony, beckoning him outside. Today was a scheduled new release for Wanwen Bookhouse, and he had heard several chatters from the citizens that a new series would be published hailing from Yae Publishing House once again.
And the virtuoso of literature cannot attend such important matter himself because of his own birthday. How irking, you weren't even there to help appease his grumbling, you should have been here by now upon his invitation.
Suddenly the master of invitations bellowed out a familiar name, as his job to announce the entrance of the invited guests to the banquet. When he looks up, you were already walking down the grand staircase in your creme and blue Hanfu garb, accompanied by a tall man of a different wear—
"(Y/N), M-Mr. Nine-!" He bowed politely to the man as you curtsied at his presence. You looked absolutely dashing yet the man towered your form easily. "It's my honor to finally meet you, sire."
"Happy birthday, Xingqiu, I've heard many great things about you," the blunette opened his hands to receive the book gifted by the man. It had a familiar cover and title to it, Legend of Sword, "Great things, in fact, that there would too be great things to discuss later on." The Inazuman graced him a smile and he almost teared up at the implications, if not for when the author suddenly nudged you forward from your demure state.
Tales of the Ghost Writer
"X-Xingqiu, happy birthday! This is uhm, I've always wanted to- I wanted to give you this myself, I know you'd miss the first batch of releases," an unfamiliar book sits on his palm now. A plume and sword adorning its cover but no title, he shifts his hand to open it to the first page, "You said you wanted its first copy be signed, and I thought it appropriate to be given now at such a special occasion."
There in fresh print and ink he'd finally been revealed the mysteries he had long been searching for.
Against the translucent paper it was written and signed,
Tales of The Ghost Writer
Bob Ong, (Y/N)
@creation-magician @your-local-venti-simp @boxofteenageideas @indigodreamtime47
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact xingqiu#xingqui x reader#xingqiu x reader#Bonafide specials#exile.flower#accidentally posted again but okay#female reader
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seven-three (part 3)
pairing: nanami x f!reader
themes/rating: explicit, 18+, clubs, bars, masquerade parties, rough sex
tw: daddy kink, spitting, sex toys, dirty talk, creampie, cockwarming, anal, voyerism(ish), squirting
wc: 9.5k
ao3 | part 1 | part 2 | part 3
Nanami Kento had a hardened shell surrounding his personal life. Clocking out at five ‘o’clock on the dot every day, he left little to no room for others to get to know him better— leaving him as an unsolvable mystery amongst the office.
Likewise, you too aimed to clock out at five ‘o’ clock. You preferred routine during the workday, finding comfort in maintaining equilibrium and peace and wanting to do nothing more or nothing less than what was required of you.
Little did you know the two of you shared an interesting weekend hobby.
a/n : hi all! thank you for waiting so patiently. this chapter is a personal favourite of mine (of all time), and i'm so excited to finally share it with you all. i originally wanted to make this a one shot smut, but i’ve been wanting to expand it into a mini fic. not sure if tumblr is the place for uploading that type of content, but please let me know if it’s something you would be interested in reading!!
anyways, enjoy this nastyyy chapter!!
An absolute masterpiece— that’s what Nanami thinks you are. A magnificent work of art, somehow misplaced and laid out on the bed in front of him instead of an exhibit in some renowned museum.
Every inch of you is enticing to him. From the strands of hair sprayed across the pillow case caressing the back of your head, your chest that rises up and down in anticipation, the glistening sheen of sweat of your body illuminated under the peaking moonlight from the windows, and his favourite, your legs that are propped open just enough for him to see droplets of your juice threatening to leak on to the bedsheets below— he’s mesmerized by it all . By no means was he an intensely religious man, but in the moment he couldn’t be more thankful for God’s utmost greatest and most beautiful creation— women .
He considers himself to be a good and honest man, yet nowhere close to a saint to be deserving of what God had offered and placed right in front of him. Nanami thinks it has to be a dream— and just maybe the best damn dream he’s ever had. You just look too good to be real, splayed across the bed naked with nothing but desire in your eyes, waiting only for him.
But when his hands roam to explore the soft flesh of your bare skin, feeling you shudder slightly under his touch alongside the tiny whimpers leaving your lips, Nanami knows— and silently thanks God— it’s real. You were real.
His gaze on your body is intense with hunger, so much so you could practically feel his eyes digging into the depths of your skin, and you begin to think it’s deep enough to reach even into the surface of your soul. Mixed with the grazes of his fingers, it’s an alluring sensation despite the minimal touch on the areas most needy, causing you to let out a louder whine and roll your hips just the slightest into the mattress in the search of any sort of physical relief.
“Please…” Your voice comes out shaky, pupils directly looking into his above yours. “...I need you.”
Unable to hold back, a low, nearly inaudible grumble vibrates in his throat at your actions and words. Perhaps he’s the one who saved a nation in his past life, something remarkable of that sort to be lucky enough to be alive and present in this very moment. Or he truly really was just one lucky ass bastard, somehow having a Goddess of a woman practically begging him to fuck her right underneath him.
True, you were the one granting him a wish, but by no means did that mean he couldn’t help grant a few of your own wishes at the same time. Alongside the original, he now had an additional goal that was simple: give you the experience like none other so no other partner could ever compare to him. And of course, Nanami is nothing but confident he’ll be able to achieve just that. Failure was never an option in his books— especially not now.
“Patience, pretty girl.” Nanami whispers, fingers softly caressing the side of your jawline. “First, open your mouth again for me.”
You oblige without hesitation, mind still partially woozy from your second orgasm minutes ago. Nanami grins at the view of your semi dazed expression, tongue hanging out before his instructions to even do so. Gently, he allows a string of saliva to fall from his mouth and into yours, watching the glob of foreign liquid pool onto the pad of your tongue.
“Stay just like that, and don’t move an inch until I say so.”
You do just as he commands, remaining still the best you can for the few seconds you can feel him shuffling on the bed to reach into the bedside drawers. Despite being clouded in the aftermath of your orgasmic high, when you hear the cluttering of his hands rummaging through the contents of the drawer your mind wanders to the possibilities of what Nanami was searching for. Lube? Condoms?
It then instantly dawns on you what else it could be. The rustling of a cardboard box being opened is enough of a signal to confirm your thoughts even seconds before Nanami returns with the suspected item in hand. A sex toy, replicating the shape of a generous sized penis and colored in a translucent purple hue dangles above your eyes, causing them to widen once more.
“It’s nowhere as good as my cock, of course...” Nanami begins, leaving another soft, comforting kiss in the crook of your neck. “...but we need to get that sweet little hole of yours ready for me, don’t we?”
He doesn’t wait for your reply, a trend of his throughout the night thus far, placing the tip of the dildo on the surface of your tongue. A satisfied hum vibrates in his throat when he watches your lips wrap around the rest of the toy, taking it deeper into your mouth while keeping your eyes locked onto his.
You work your tongue up and down the rubber surface, tracing the ridges and coating the surface with as much saliva as you could. Nanami can’t help but to silently watch in awe your head bob up and down the toy, a part of him almost becoming jealous that it isn’t his dick back in your mouth instead.
After a few more rounds of making sure the toy was properly lubed and ready, Nanami pulls the toy away from your puckered lips. He smirks at your disappointed whine at the sudden retraction, bringing a hand to caress the top of your head in reassurance.
“No more, you’re making me start to get jealous of a fucking piece of rubber.” Nanami whispers, continuing to stroke your hair and soon after leaving a gentle kiss on the edge of your forehead. His hands halt their movements moments later, moving to tilt your chin up towards him forcing you to see the coy grin now spread across his lips.
“Tell me, are you ready to get fucked stupid, doll? To have that pretty little mind of yours be filled with nothing but my cock?”
Watching the string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to the tip of the now glistening rubber tip of the toy break off, you nod your head frantically. You were more than ready, desperate in desire for more. Even without saying a single word, it was written all over you— in that moment there was nothing more you wanted in the world than him .
Lucky for you, Nanami was fluent in reading the writing of the unwritten plea of a girl searching for the remedy for her lustful trance. He was an intelligent man, after all. Yet, no matter how incredibly alluring you were to him, somehow at the same time you were just as cute, eyes wide blinking up towards him just like an actual doll. He thinks only an insane, evil man would be crazy enough to leave someone as cute as you in the distress you were in.
Thankfully, Nanami considered himself a good man— once again, not a saint of any sorts, but simply a good man. And as a good man, he wouldn’t let you suffer any longer.
Nanami shifts his body, moving to crouch in between your spread legs. You’re so wet, pussy glistening with a layer of the sweet sheen he just couldn’t get enough of, holding himself back from licking it all up then and there. Perhaps he didn’t even need you to prep the toy with your joint saliva— you had more than enough lube naturally already, and you could feel it too.
So you’re shocked when you feel him spit on your cunt— and you're even more surprised when you feel his fingers spread the mixture of liquids from your cunt down to your ass, and slip a finger teasingly into your hole. You can’t help but let out a loud moan at the sudden unexpected intrusion, feeling a bit shy at the position yet already immensely satisfied with the bare minimum of a touch.
“Oh, darling,” Nanami grins, watching your sudden jerk in movements at his actions, pussy clenching at nothing in front of his eyes. “You like that, don’t you?”
You did, you really did— and there was no reason to lie and say you didn’t.
“Yes… please give me more.”
“Where do you want it, doll? In here?” Nanami asks, removing his finger and hovering the tip of the dildo by the entrance of your cunt, before slowly bringing it down to graze over your ass instead. “Or maybe here?”
It’s almost like a game to him, perhaps his new favourite game, seeing just how far he could tease you and watch you whine and wriggle in desire.
“Anywhere…”
Yet, it’s a game Nanami was running out of will for him to continue to play.
His body adjusts once more to hover above yours again, cupping the side of your cheek to bring your lips upwards into a kiss. It’s another gentle kiss, calming and reassuring in nature, feeling the warmth of his body on yours that makes you wonder if time could be kind enough to stop right then and there forever.
But your wonder shifts back into reality, reverting to what you really were desiring at the moment when you feel the tip of the dildo finally sink inside you, breaking the kiss and replacing it with a moan into his mouth. Your hands come up to grip the blades of his broad shoulders, head tilting back in pure relief.
“Oh god …”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
All you can do is whimper out a wordless response, nodding your head instead. It’s good— so fucking good, to finally get your aching hole tended too, yet you still feel as though something is missing. You know all too well what it is, and Nanami chuckles because of course, even though your face twinges in pleasure and soft moans escape your lips the deeper he pushes the dildo in, he too already knows.
He thinks maybe in a previous life he had already explored you, well aware of every single area you were most sensitive in and how to make you feel good because it’s almost scary how he knows you all too well already. Despite never having laid a single finger on you before tonight, he’s already fluent in reading the language of your body and what you’re truly wanting long before you even muster the strength to say it.
So he could give you what you want right then and there. But he also could keep his favourite game going— just a little bit longer than he planned too.
“Yes… so fucking good… but… I-I want… you.”
“You want me?” Nanami asks, almost too nonchalantly compared to the twitching of his hard cock at your plea. “The toy in your ass isn’t enough for my slutty girl?”
“No…I want your cock… inside me.”
A dildo now deep in your ass was more than pleasurable and nice, but the both of you knew feeling his pulsating cock in your aching cunt is what you desired even more . To feel him, all eleven inches throbbing inside of you, fucking your tight hole senseless.
And he’ll give up his favourite game and give you just that. Nanami is a good man, after all.
“I’ll share your mouth and ass with this toy— but from here on out your pussy is mine and only mine.”
Nanami moves in an instant, roughly spreading your legs just a bit further with his own, pushing your knees apart in order to fixate himself properly in between. A shudder travels up your spine once more feeling the hot flesh of his cock against your bare skin, the length caressed and rubbing in between your cunt up and down while the tip grazes just teasingly against your swollen clit.
“You’ve been so good for me, sweet girl.” Nanami leans forward on his forearms beside each side of your head and murmurs into your ear, breath hot against your skin. “Now it’s my turn to make you feel so fucking good.”
It’s the last bit of words you could properly understand and digest before your mind melts into mush, turning into nothing but putty right into the palm of his hands. The room fills with nothing but the sound of two harmonious moans when the head of his cock finally dips inside your cunt, the nails of your fingers digging deeper into his shoulders in desperate search of something to grab onto.
“Breathe baby.” Nanami whispers. “You can take it all.”
He’s big — so big it’s a mystery to both you and him on how he’s able to continue to push into you inch by inch, your cunt squeezing him tighter the deeper and deeper he goes. Alongside the dildo deep inside your hole, it’s already too intense— and when the last inch of his cock finds its way inside you it breaks the last sheer remainder of strength you have left. Your mind becomes woozy once more, back arching off the bed while your hands roam to grip the back of his hair as your body twitches on his cock, releasing a loud moan that overpowers his simultaneous one and echoes throughout the room.
Nanami’s eyes widen in realization in the aftermath, watching your body loosen and relax onto the bed, fingers loosely locked behind his neck.
“Already?”
You feel your face turn warm, and once again you're thankful for the mask that partially covers the redness of your embarrassed cheeks. Yet, you think it’s still not enough to hide behind, releasing your fingers from behind him and raising up both your hands to conceal your face instead.
“Shut up…”
“No, don’t be embarrassed.” Nanami chuckles, reaching for one of your hands to pry them away from your face and bringing it to his lips to leave a kiss on the inside of your wrist instead. “I’m glad I can make you feel that good… not to mention it’s was also extremely fucking sexy watching you cum on my cock.”
You begin to think it’s truly a hidden talent of his you were lucky to see. He seemed to just have the right words everytime to put you in such a lust filled trance again and again— and you just couldn’t get enough.
“You have to make me do that again at least five more times, daddy .”
A cheeky grin creeps up on Nanami’s face. You wonder if it’s because of the flirtatious manner of your words, or if it's the soft moan you let out instantly when you feel his cock twitch inside of you that serves as a silent response to your words itself.
“It’ll be my pleasure to watch you cum, darling.” Nanami pins your wrist in his hand down above your head and into the mattress, kissing your lips with his in between his words. “Over and over , again and again until you can’t take it anymore.”
There’s a part of you that wonders if his lips had some sort of transparent chemicals difficult for the human eye to see. You were beginning to find yourself already addicted to the feeling of them, especially against your own. Soft like previously or hot and passionate like now, his kisses were nothing but hypnotic, drawing you effortlessly faster and deeper into the abyss of Nanami Kento.
You’re only snapped out of the trance of his kiss when it’s broken once again with a moan escaping your lips, feeling the length of his cock slowly slip out of you. The sudden emptiness leaves you aching for something more, clenching against nothing in the hopes of hugging even just an inch of him from escaping you.
“No…” You whisper, your free hand coming up to grip the back of his shoulder in an effort to push his body closer to you. “Put it back in…”
Your efforts show no successful action, his frame much too broad and built to be waived by the strength of just one of your arms. But your plea yields different results, a low, rumbling groan vibrating in his throat and the head of his cock sinking back inside your pulsating walls.
His movements are slow and gentle at first, allowing you to feel and grip every inch of his cock enter and leave your cunt. Rhythmic in pattern, Nanami’s hips work in what feels like matches the beat of your heart, filling you up and emptying you again and again, his soft grunts of pleasure quiet and low, but loud enough to sound like a subtle melody to your ears.
Gradually, the pace of his hips thrusting into you increases the more he feels your cunt adjust and mould into the shape of him, alongside the sound of your moans filling the room increasing in volume. The tips of your fingers can’t help but curl against his back with the rising pleasure, digging into his skin and scratching the surface, surely bound to leave marks to serve as a momento for the night later on.
You think maybe Nanami is angry momentarily at your markings on his skin, his hand that pinned yours down into the mattress above your head releasing for only a second to roughly grab yours behind his shoulder. Bringing that hand to join your other, Nanami now held both your hands down by the wrist, restricting you from freely moving.
“Bad girl. That’s gonna hurt later.”
The now familiar smirk reappearing on his face hovered over yours was more than enough to tell you he wasn’t angry at all. It was the opposite in actuality— the stinging pain would just remind him later on how he fucked you just that good, and his cock throbs just merely at the thought already.
“Punish me then.” You spit out. “Don’t be gentle like you do with good girls— fuck me like bad girls deserve.”
Nanami lets out another groan, and you can feel his cock twitch mid thrust inside of you. Somehow, he was more turned on than he already was— his vision shifting you from the complying, good girl you were in his eyes to the slutty, needy fuck doll you wanted to be.
He readjusts to sit partially upright, releasing his weight holding him up by his forearm and instead using that arm to grip onto the meat of the back of your thigh. Pushing your leg upwards his arm wraps around your thigh, spreading you open more and tossing your leg above his shoulder.
“I’ll fuck you just like a bad girl then.” Nanami mumbles, the grip on your wrists becoming stronger. “I’ll fuck you like you’re a little slut that knows nothing but getting stuffed with cock.”
You can’t help but clench your cunt at his words, feeling yourself get wetter in response. Nanami feels it too, your excitement squeezing his cock even tighter, and he flashes you a quick tiny, knowing grin that lasts only for a few seconds, before roughly snapping his hips back into you.
His pace is fast, still rhythmic but now much faster— pounding your cunt at a speed that makes it difficult for you to even catch your breath. Your leg held up and on his shoulder spread your cunt even further than before, allowing him to reach deeper inside of your cunt and just barely hitting your most sensitive area, causing you to cry out every time his cock mercilessly pounded deep into you.
Seeing your eyes roll back, Nanami moans at the feeling of your pussy clench around his cock even tighter. It’s a sign he’s familiar with— you were close, and he thinks it's the perfect moment to release his grip from your wrists. Your hands instantly curl into fists, gripping at nothing in pleasure while with his now free hand, he brings it to tend to your swollen clit, rubbing the bud with the pads of his fingers.
“Fuck… if you do that I’ll… I’m…”
“You’re what?” Nanami groans, his fingers pressing harder circles onto your clit. “Say it clearly.”
“I’m gonna cum.” You whine, arching your back off the mattress and grinding on his cock the best you could. “I’m gonna fucking cum…”
It’s overwhelming. You’re sensitive to the touch, already overstimulated with his cock pounding your pussy, fingers rubbing your clit, and dildo still shoved in your ass. But it feels so damn good that the familiar knot in your stomach releases once more, curling your toes and sending you into bliss.
Nanami curses under his breath, slowing the movements of his hips before pulling completely out to watch your body relax on the bed once more. Your breaths come out in haggered pants, struggling to catch your breath, and you feel the Nanami’s weight sink into the bed beside you, the callousness of his hands soon after rubbing up and down the skin of your legs in an attempt to soothe the shaking of them down.
“You’re so gorgeous when you cum.” Nanami murmurs, breath warm against the shell of your ear with his body now laying beside you on his side. “So. Fucking. Gorgeous.”
His hands find their way to inch upwards from your legs to your hips, gently turning you around to face your body towards his. Fingers instantly find themselves in their habitual spot, just underneath the surface of your chin, lifting up your lips and trapping them into another fiery kiss with him.
The kiss breaks when Nanami pulls away with a smirk, releasing his hands from your body to lean backwards onto the mattress on his backside. A hand holds the back of his head propped upon a pillow behind him that leans against the headboard of the bed, legs spread and open in a way that almost serves to proudly display his fully erected cock, his other hand pumping the shaft covered with a sheen of your liquid.
A lump forms in your throat at the sight, a reaction formed as a result of a mix of nervousness, embarrassment and excitement. You still had no idea just how he was able to pound into you with something of that caliber, and how now he was suggesting now you were supposed to fuck yourself on it. Yet, the glistening liquid belonging to you coating his cock— a tad embarrassing in retrospect— was a clear indication that he was in fact able to fit it all inside you, and the pleasure was that you’ve never experienced before.
Despite growing increasingly exhausted and tired, you still wanted him again. Again and again, you wanted nothing more than him .
You feel your cunt throb at the thought, biting your bottom lip down in the hopes of holding back the drool you might just let escape, hungry for more of him. And you would be a complete fool to think Nanami doesn’t notice your entranced expression, the tiny smirk on his face transforming into a larger, smug grin instead.
“Doll.” Nanami calls, a single finger rising into the air gesturing to you to come closer towards him. “Why don’t you come here and ride my cock?”
It’s a request you're more than willing to fulfill, finding your body moving on its own accord onto your hands and knees, slowly crawling forward towards him. Your palms rest flat on top of his chiseled abdomen when you finally reach close enough to touch him, utilizing the surface to balance yourself on to your knees to straddle both sides of his body.
Nanami’s hand pumping his cock retracts, joining his other supporting his head against the headboard when your hands travel to wrap around his length. Gathering another pool of saliva in your mouth, you let the trail spit drop down to the head, using your hands to twist and jerk his cock, coating the surface with the liquid.
“Oh fuck .” Nanami hisses, face suddenly wincing when one of your hands roam just a touch lower, squeezing on his balls. “You’re a little minx.”
A staggered groan escapes his lips watching you drop your body lower, beginning to grind your wet cunt onto the shaft of his cock. You feel one particular vein, perhaps the same protruding one from earlier throb at the warmth of your cunt rubbing back and forth on his, causing the corner of your lip to hitch upwards.
“What are you going to do after tonight?” You ask with a small grin, continuing to grind yourself on him. “You won’t be able to stop thinking about me.”
Nanami chuckles, instantly shooting you a confident smile back.
“Darling, what a ridiculous question. I thought you knew your pussy was going to be mine and only mine after tonight.”
In an instant, his body swiftly sits upright, giving you little time to react and forcing you to abruptly halt your movement. Your eyes widen, letting out a startled gasp when you feel an arm snake around your waist from behind, pulling your body close enough towards him so his chest was now pressed up against yours.
“I’m greedy, you know. I want to keep you to myself, and I don’t like sharing what’s mine.” He begins, voice low and fingers coming to grip your chin to lock your gaze onto him. “And I also know you won’t be able to stop thinking about me either, so this works for us well, doesn’t it?”
Nanami leans forward, trapping your lips with his into a sensual kiss, serving as almost a metaphorical action in sealing the deal to his words that were nothing but truthful in nature.
A part of you completely agreed that in hindsight it was a rather ridiculous claim to be so hooked onto the other so quickly. You could more than understand the foolishness in agreeing to only reserve your bodies for one another after merely a single sexual encounter.
Yet you already could imagine how lackluster any other partner would be in comparison to the sex you experienced with Nanami thus far, only becoming better and better with each passing second. And as much as part of you screams internally of how uncharacteristically weak you were to him, falling right into the palm of his hand exactly how he wanted you, you just couldn’t help it. If it wasn’t already so painfully crystal clear before, Nanami Kento was definitely not your ordinary hook up at all— he was much more enticing, luring you every bit through whatever spell he had casted onto you.
Gojo would have to wait for his threesome longer than anticipated— you had signed the dotted lines on the metaphoric contract, returning the kiss with just as much passion and lust.
“There’s some truth to that, I suppose.” You give him a tiny grin against his lips and a wink when you pull away, and Nanami answers in a hearty chuckle.
“That’s a good enough response for me.”
“Is it really? Somehow I don’t buy that.”
“Words don’t hold the entire amount of truth— I’m a firm believer that actions speak louder instead.”
You let out a startled gasp, feeling Nanami’s large hands suddenly snake down your body, roughly grasping onto the curves of your ass.
“And what I’m saying is I’d rather see you start bouncing on my cock— only if you really agree, gorgeous.”
Nanami releases his hands from your body, falling back onto the mattress with his hands returning against the headboard. Holding the back of his head, he’s arguably waiting almost too calmly for your next move. He had given all the power in your court, allowing you to choose the next course of action.
And when he watches your body readjust, steadily gripping onto his cock and angling it to sit yourself on top of it, he can’t help but let out a wide grin, silently celebrating his victory.
“Hold on baby. I want you to turn around and ride it— show me how you can bounce that ass.”
You do just that with no hesitation, turning yourself swiftly around, straddling him with your backside faced towards him. The new position itself makes your cheeks grow warm in both excitement and embarrassment, all your most intimate places now on full display for him to see.
It takes every ounce of strength in Nanami’s entire body to hold back from letting his cock bust right then and there as soon as he watches you slowly lower yourself and take him in, your soft moans once more breaking the silence in the room. The sight is so lewd and erotic to him, focused on nothing but how his cock continues to disappear inch by inch inside you, tightly gripping him as if you were holding on to dear life and the purple dildo still sticking out of your ass.
“Oh my god, baby .” You moan when the final inch slides in, now balls deep on top of him. “You’re so fucking big, baby… filling me up so good.”
Nanami’s mind begins to teeter violently at the combination of it all, your words, the lewd sight and sounds, and he’s no longer confident in how much longer he can hold back from reaching his peak. And when you begin to move, allowing yourself to bounce up and down his cock, he knows he's a goner sooner than later.
His hands reach forward to grip onto either side of your hips, simultaneously grinding his upwards in sync with yours helping you reach the deepest parts of your cunt with every bounce increasing in both intensity and speed. The head of his cock brushes past your most sensitive area, feeling him just right in the pit of your stomach that makes you cry out a moan that echoes the entire room and clench onto him even tighter.
The purple toy glides teasing in and out of your ass with every assisted bounce on his cock, and the view is almost taunting to Nanami, becoming embarrassingly jealous once more at the inanimate object. But it also leaves him curious just how much more you could take, so much so his hands move quicker than his brain, wrapping his fingers around the toy and beginning to pump it in and out inside of you.
Curses drop from underneath your tongue, falling partially forward on the palms of your hands, fingers gripping onto Nanami’s legs in overwhelming pleasure coming from both your holes now getting fucked. Yet you find it impossible to stop yourself from moving your hips up and down, not wanting the pleasure to end even for a second, continuing to take now both his cock and dildo inside of you.
“Fuck… I can’t…it’s so much… filling me up.”
“Yes you can, baby. You’re doing so good, taking it all in... I can feel you getting so much wetter and tighter just for me.”
You’ve grown even wetter now, becoming even more drunk on lust the moment your second hole became another slutty little hole, with the temporary only purpose to be used for pleasure purposes. Nanami also grows more and more drunk on lust seeing your body react, watching the way you squeeze on both his cock and the dildo, your own slick now dripping out of your cunt and down your thighs. The movement of his hips become increasingly sporadic and less rhythmic, mind clouded with nothing but the need to continue to fuck you senseless.
“Say it, you like getting both of your holes fucked by me, don’t you?”
“I love getting both my holes fucked by your big cock.”
“You want to be filled with my cum, don’t you, dirty girl?”
“Yes...please fill my slutty hole with your cum...”
You’re a moaning mess, the air around you filled with nothing but the lewd squelching noises, Nanami’s grunts pounding into you, and your cries of pleasure. With one final thrust of his throbbing cock, you feel the hot load of Nanami’s cum shoot inside your cunt, a shiver traveling up your spine as you simultaneously reach your own orgasm at the sensation.
A moment of serenity envelops the room; you have collapsed fully now onto his legs, Nanami unmoving, cock still deep buried inside you with his cum now trickling out of your cunt and onto his cock. Only the sounds of panting can be heard from the both of you, blissfully recovering from your post orgasm high.
But of course, it lasts for just a moment. Nanami wasn’t one to let things last longer than necessary, after all.
“I didn’t get to see you cum.” Nanami states, shattering the silence in the air. “Do it again.”
You can’t help but blink a few times, turning your head slightly back to look at the man behind you.
“ What ?” Surely you heard wrong, right?
You didn’t. It was exactly as you heard, confirmed when Nanami flashes you another half grin, just a peek of the whites of his teeth showing through.
“You heard me. I missed seeing you cum, so sit on my cock facing me and do it again.”
“You’re crazy.” You let out a small scoff in disbelief, only to transition into the corner of your lips tugged upwards in an excited smirk you fail to hold yourself back from hiding.
“Am I?” Nanami questions, reaching forward to teasingly squeeze the meaty flesh of your ass that triggers you to release a whimper at the touch. “Your little pussy that just throbbed on my cock is telling me differently— you like this idea too.”
His hands move once more, slowly pulling the dildo out of your ass that in return brings about another soft groan to rumble from your throat. Nanami is already a sucker to the sound, growing incredibly weak to it mixed with the sight in front of him of both your cunt and asshole clenching at the sudden loss, instinctively gripping whatever you could to remain filled up. His dick hardens once more at the sensation and sight, twitching against your walls again.
“Guess actions really do speak louder than words, huh?” You grin, your words come out in between breathy moans, eyeing him from just over your shoulder.
“Exactly, you’re one to catch on quickly.”
Nanami’s hands roam again, tossing the purple dildo to the side of the bed and placing his hands to grip either side of your hips. When you feel them gently squeeze your skin, you take it as a sign to readjust your position, briefly lifting yourself off of him, only to sit back down on his cock when you turn back around to now face him.
You lean forward, both your hands softly grasping either side of his neck to pull him in for another kiss, both sloppy and needy in nature. It only breaks when Nanami lets out a low moan, feeling you teasingly clench your cunt around his cock.
“Fuck, stop doing that.”
“Why should I?” You ask, grinning once more. “Maybe I want to see you cum too.”
“If you keep doing that, you definitely will.”
You let out a gentle laugh against his lips, bringing your lips back onto his. Nanami’s hands find refuge on the sides of your hip once more, sitting back upright to deepen the kiss, further exploring your mouth with his tongue.
One hand slowly begins to dip from the side of your hip, on to your thighs, his fingertips trickling skillfully back and forth in the inner part of your upper legs. It’s only when his fingers suddenly move upwards to caress the swollen bud of your clit in steady circles you interrupt the kiss once more, tilting your head back and letting a breathy moan escape.
“Feels good…”
Nanami catches sight of the skin of your neck, the smooth and soft surface now fully inviting him the more you tilt your head back. Similar to a magnetic pull, his body is drawn instantly, lips finding themselves attacking the sensitive skin.
“It does, doesn’t it?” His words come out muffled, in between the kisses against your neck. “Especially when your clit is extra sensitive from getting fucked so hard.”
Your fingers curl once more against the blades of his shoulders, feeling the hand remaining on your hip beginning to guide you in moving back and forth.
“You make me feel so good too darling, knowing you’re just filled with my cum, and warming my cock so good just like this.”
You’re immensely spoiled. At least, that’s the thought that races throughout your mind feeling Nanami work carefully on all the most sensitive areas of your body. As rough as he could be, Nanami concurrently treated your body as if it was a sacred possession tending attentively to all the areas that could give you the most pleasure, in return making you feel as if you were on cloud nine with every kiss, nip and touch. And when the pressure of his fingers against your clit grows harder, and the large, firm hand on your hip directs your hips to grind on his cock faster, the all too familiar pressure in your stomach builds once more.
It arrives faster than Nanami thinks— he too is already fully aware of your little whimpers and increased movements that indicate your upcoming release. But he really isn’t surprised, you were only growing more and more sensitive and overstimulated with every second passing that now perhaps even the tiniest bits of effort from him were enough to make you clench your cunt around him just the way he liked it.
This time, Nanami makes sure to watch your face thoroughly, drinking in every twinge in your face, bite to your lower lip, and moan that drops from your mouth. It’s a shame to him the mask of yours, as pretty as it is, covers him from seeing the entirety of your face just on the edge of cumming, but Nanami prefers to think you make it up in other ways. The shaking of your legs growing weaker despite hips moving faster, the bouncing of your breasts with every movement, and his personal favourite in contrary to his slight teasing for it earlier— your nails that scratch up and down his back, desperately clawing away in the hopes of reaching for something— he’s enthralled by it all, how the gorgeous, well put together woman he saw hours before at the bar was the same as the one in his arms on the verge of her sixth orgasam of the night.
So when you finally do cum once again, letting the more than familiar build up knot in your stomach loose once more, Nanami is of course, mesmerized by it all, filling the air with his own moans at the feeling of your cunt clenching around him tighter than ever before. Yet, not a single ounce of how turned on you made him dwindle, somehow only intensifying— especially amplified at the hint of the sunrise beginning to seep into the room past the sheer curtains of the window beside the bed, reminding him of a little promise he had made to you earlier in the night.
He doesn’t give you much time to think about it, a few mere seconds at most if you were truly to keep record. Although a fan of foreplay and buildup, he was already far too lost in lust and desire to wait any longer. Your body slumped against his chest, head on his shoulder, breaths heavy and arms wrapped around his neck is the perfect position for him to lift you from the back of your thighs up almost too effortlessly, a startled yelp leaving your mouth at the sudden movement.
“Hush, it’s okay baby.” Nanami soothes, a tiny chuckle following, feeling your arms strength and your legs wrap instictintly around him. “You did so good, and now I just wanted to show you what I promised you earlier.”
A sudden jolt of coldness attacks your backside, sending a shiver to run down your spine. You let out another gasp at the abruptness of it all, only to be responded with the tiny grin on Nanami’s lips, ushering you to turn around and look behind you.
“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”
His grip behind your legs loosening and steady hands resting on yours hips once more gently assisting your weak legs in standing up. There were zero lies in his words, confirmed when you turn around and see the view for yourself peeking through the partially opened curtains of the floor to ceiling windows.
The familiar city before you was now blanketed with an orange hue matching the color of the sun rising from a distance away. The current time remains a mystery to you, but what you could gather was that it was the hour of the day where the city just began to stir awake, the sounds of traffic and humans minimal, and only the true early birds of the world awake and roaming the streets. It was tranquility at its finest, rare to see in the normally bustling city you called home, and a spectacular view that makes you stop and stare in awe.
“It is.” You whisper. “I forgot this city can look this gorg—”
You’re unable to finish the sentence, abruptly cut off midway through. A loud moan replaces it instead, your body falling forward and both your hands flat against the glass in front of you for support when you suddenly feel the head of Nanami’s cock slide back in from behind you unexpectedly, cursing under your breath at the sensation.
“I wasn’t talking about the city.” Nanami smirks, fully aware you’re eyeing his every move through the subtle reflection of the glass. “I was talking about you . This sexy body, this pretty face, this ass, and this pussy… this fucking pussy … words couldn’t describe how it makes me go crazy… my god .”
You let out a louder moan, fingers curling against the window feeling Nanami’s thick and long cock quickly filling you up balls deep. Contrary to before, this time he spent little time teasing you, going slow and making sure you felt every single inch. You had already become accustomed to his body, and Nanami had been accustomed to yours— Nanami no longer had the patience to wait to fuck you senseless once more.
His hands briefly leave your sides, reaching up towards the curtains instead. Grabbing each one on either side of your bodies, Nanami pulls the fabric away, allowing more light to enter the room, and more of the window exposed from the protection of the curtains to the outside. Your eyes widen at the realization, but when Nanami’s hands grip at your waist once more, pulling his cock out and then slamming back in, words of argument become difficult to formulate.
“Wait… there could be people outside…” You manage to mumble in between the mewls releasing at the sensation of his cock slowly sliding in and out of you. “What if they see… that’s embarrassing…”
“I said I’d fuck you so everyone could see, didn’t I?” Nanami hisses, thrusts beginning to increase in speed. “And even though you say that your pussy throbbing on me is telling me you like the idea of people seeing you get fucked up against this window, don’t you?”
He knows you too well. And as scary as it should be for someone whom you practically just met to know you this well, to you the rush of it all is more overpowering— all you can do is let out a tiny grin because he was right. Something about him railing you against the window of a penthouse hotel room, in full view during the sunrise of a beautiful morning for anyone at the right place and time to see was enthralling.
“You’re right, baby, it turns me on so much that someone might be able to watch me get fucked hard by your big cock.” You moan, feeling the tip of his cock brushing against your womb. “Everyone watching me get used as your little slutty fuck doll makes me so wet.”
Nanami does nothing but groan loudly at your words, serving more than enough as a response. His hands ghosts upwards to reach to tangle into the back of your hair, fingers gripping the strands and pulling them back rough enough your entire body follows suit. With your back against his chest, Nanami takes a step forward, pushing your breasts and the side of your face against the window, and all your hands can do is still support his rough movements by clawing away at the window.
“Whose pussy is this? Tell me if you want me to fuck you harder.”
“Yours, It belongs to you!”
“That’s my girl.” Nanami coos, grip on your hair becoming stronger. “My slutty girl.”
The sound of skin slapping and moans echoes throughout the room, Nanami’s hips snapping into you harder with every passing second, pushing you back and forth against the window. Your knees buckle instantly when Nanami’s cock brushes past your most sensitive spot, releasing a moan that comes straight from the depths of your lungs.
“Right there,” You gasp, eyes fluttering shut, too overwhelmed with pleasure. “Oh my god, right fucking there—!”
Nanami grins, knowing he’s found the spot that makes your toes curl in pleasure, eyes roll to the back of your head, and legs shake, threatening to give out at any moment. And when his thrusts pinpoint that specific spot, rhythmically hitting on beat to a silent song that makes your head spin once more, both you and him know all too well what’s to come next.
“It feels so fucking good,” You cry out, endless strings of moans and curses dropping from your lips. “I can’t… I’m gonna—”
“Don’t hold back. Cum baby, cum all over my cock.”
You don’t— not even in the slightest bit. You let your mind grow numb, the high of the orgasm riding your entire body, allowing Nanami to give his last few thrusts, only an unworldly noise leaving your throat. Your body jolts in a way you’ve never experienced before, so much so Nanami has to snake an arm around your waist, holding you steady upright from collapsing from your now completely weakened knees.
“Baby, look at me.” Nanami calls, voice soft with a twinge of startled concern. “Are you tired? We can stop now if you want.”
His movements cease, slowly pulling his length from you emitting a groan from both of you. You muster up the strength you have remaining once more to stand upright, looking behind your shoulder and give him a small, reassuring smile, shaking your head side to side.
“No… I’m still okay, thank you for asking.” A hand reaches backwards, latching on to the side of his neck to bring him down for a brief and comforting kiss. “You’re actually such a sweetie, you know?”
Nanami shrugs his shoulders when you let him go, clearing his throat and reaching to scratch at the back of his neck. His actions were uncharacteristically bashful compared to what he had shown you throughout the night thus far, and it was both intimate and refreshing to you to see another side of him you haven’t seen before.
You wanted to know more about him, effortlessly encapsulated by the growing enigma that was him — Nanami Kento. The more you learnt about him, the more you wondered what other side of him he could possibly surprise you further with.
However, for now, there was another issue present to solve in the current moment. The feeling of Nanami’s rock hard cock, long and stiff looming over your backside, reminded you that he had pleased you so well up until now, and it was now his turn to be absolutely spoiled by you.
You lean forward once more, bending fully over to display your ass towards him. Looking over your shoulder once more, a small grin forms upon your face watching Nanami’s stunned expression, eyes fixated right on your assets showcased in front of him.
“I can’t let you just stay this hard, baby.” You whisper, your hands reaching behind you to spread both of your cheeks open. “I want you to let it all out inside here.”
“Fuck,” Nanami curses, watching you wriggle your ass back and forth against his cock. “How did I get so fucking lucky with you?”
“Because you’re a good man… with a blessed cock to follow. Now hurry up and fuck my ass.”
The once cold glass of the window had now turned warm, condensation coating the surface of the glass with droplets of water— except for where the silhouette of your body that was pressed up against the window was not too long ago. The sight is erotic and incredibly lewd, and a part of Nanami wonders if he even had the strength to make it inside you.
But he does nonetheless, moving slowly to allow the tighter hole to adjust to his impressive length and girth. You weren’t a stranger to anal at all, but you definitely weren’t accustomed to someone of Nanami’s size, slightly wincing in the initial discomfort. Nanami takes notice of this, gently soothing the sides of your body in encouragement.
“Baby… you’re taking me so good. Let me know when you’re ready for me to move.”
A few more moments is all it takes, the discomfort quickly dwindling and pleasure replacing its spot. When a breathless moan parts from your lips, fingers scratching the surface of the window in front of you once more in search of more pleasure, you start to move your hips slightly, taking in the rest of his length.
Nanami’s hands grip the sides of your waist once more, beginning to guide your hips up and down his cock. You squeeze him tighter than ever before, Nanami watching the inches of his cock disappear, stretching the tiny hole more than you could take.
“ Fuck. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight, darling.”
A new pool of wetness forms from your cunt, and mixed with creaminess of Nanami’s cum inside from earlier you feel the liquids begin to drip in between your legs, running down the insides of your thighs. Removing one hand from the window, you dip your hand in between your legs, examining the slick in between the folds of your cunt. Bringing the fingers back up to your mouth, you make sure to look at Nanami over your shoulder before sticking your tongue out, humming in satisfaction while licking the liquids off your fingers.
“You and I taste so good together.” You grin as best as you can, eyes partially closed and brain fucked out to the core, bringing your hand out behind you towards him in offering. “Don’t we?”
Nanami groans loudly, rejecting your offering. Instead, you feel the palm of his hand pushing the small of your back down once more, forcing you to look forward once more and to hold back onto the window. His hips pick up, increasing its speed entering in and out of you, but this time you feel his chest against your back, a hand snaking forward and fingers rubbing your clit back and forth.
“You’re gonna fucking be the death of me princess.” Nanami whispers, breath heavy against your ear. “But I can play against you and your little minx ways.”
His body moves faster, an outburst of the last bit of his remaining stamina bursting in both his hips thrusting into you, and his fingers moving against your clit frantically back and forth. Numbness clouds your mind once more, eyes shutting close and rolling to the back of your head.
“That’s fucking right baby doll, you tease me like that and I’ll make that pretty little brain of yours turn stupid with nothing but cock on your mind.”
It was too much. In your overstimulated, over sensitive current state, the combination of everything was just too much. The tension in the pit of your stomach grows, this time differently than previous— more intense, striking you in a way you’ve only felt just a few times in your life.
“Oh my god—” You cry out, eyes shut closed so tight you can feel the formation of a few tears in the corners of your eyes. “No— I’m gonna—”
The synchronization is almost artistic. The way your body convulses underneath his, liquid squirting from your cunt across the lower part of the window and onto the floor below, joined merely seconds later by the drips of Nanami’s cum painting your insides that overflow outwards onto the floor below. Your knees finally give in, falling onto the ground in exhaustion and Nanami finds himself accompanying you in an instance, the last of his stamina escaping him and fatigue overwhelming him.
It’s arguably messy. Definitely to most not the most desired situation, laying on the cold, marble floor surrounded by the physical fragments of both your orgasms. But when you turn around to face Nanami, softly panting in an attempt to recollect his breath from his high, the back of his hand resting on his forehead in exhaustion, you can’t help but let out a small, weak laugh. And when Nanami’s eyes flicker towards you at the sound of your laughter, he can’t help but join in as well, fully understanding the beauty of the moment.
Something about it was almost ironic. You were in the most luxurious penthouse suite, experiencing the most sexy, alluring nearly dream-like night with a man almost too good to be true. This part now was most likely the most realistic portion of the dream-like night, yet, it was your favourite.
It was perfect. Imperfectly perfect. You wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“I’m going to wash up. Care to join me?”
“You know that’s not gonna work.” You reply, pointing up at your mask. “We can’t keep these on in the shower.”
“I don’t care anymore, you’re more than just a quick fuck to me now.” Nanami smiles, a hand reaching forward to tangle with yours.“I already know you’re gorgeous, but I want to see your entire face for myself.”
You wanted to. You really did. But the reality looming over you was too strong to ignore. Despite being your prince for the night, in reality, he still remained your colleague in the office. You knew mixing pleasure with work was never a good idea, and you knew the responsible choice was to remain keeping the two separate.
“Not yet.” Your hand squeezes his back. “Let’s keep up the mystery a little longer.”
—
“Marlboro’s? These are impossible to find here, how’d you get your hands on this?”
You climb back onto the bed, shaking a towel into your damp hair with one hand in an attempt to dry your hair, nudging at the red cardboard box that laid on top of Nanami’s lap. Nanami shrugs, taking two cigarettes out of the box, placing one in his mouth and offering the other in your direction.
“Connections.”
Taking the cigarette, you toss the damp towel onto the armrest of the nearby chair. You join Nanami under the covers of the duvet, and when you situate yourself to mimic him in leaning against the headboard, he reaches over his bedside table for the metallic lighter.
“What, did I just fuck some wanted gangster or something?”
“Not at all,” Nanami chuckles, finding humour in your accusation. “I’m just a regular salaryman… with an interesting part time job.”
He lights the tip of your cigarette first, lighting his own shortly after. A short silence fills the air when the both of you simultaneously take the first drag, seeping in the bitter flavor.
“I won’t ask.” You wink at him, and Nanami rolls his eyes in response. “Keeps you more sexy, like a mystery, you know?”
“What do you smoke then?”
“Blackstones.”
“Awful.” Nanami scrunches his nose in a cringe, instantly tossing the red cardboard box onto your lap covered with the duvet. “Take this pack on me, and treat yourself to something not garbage once in a while.”
“Cigarettes are garbage in general. Literally poison killing you slowly— but for some reason I can’t stop.
Nanami nods in agreement, taking another drag.
“I could never give up — especially cigarettes after sex. Something about ending the night with a good cigarette is the cherry on top.”
“Blackstones taste like cherry, so that could be literal if you wanted it to be.”
“Huh, makes sense.” Nanami pauses, turning to you with a cheeky smile. “You kind of tasted like cherries and tobacco when I first kissed you.”
“Really?” Your eyebrows raise, reciprocating his coy smile back “What about now?”
Nanami leans forward, his free hand reaching to cup the side of your neck, lifting your face upwards towards him. Your eyes flutter closed when your lips meet his, gently caressing with yours and delicately exploring you, drinking in every single flavour he could.
“A mix of tobacco,” Nanami grins against your lips. “And a little bit of me.”
#Nanami#nanami kento#nanami fanfic#nanami smut#nanami reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#nanami jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk x you#smut
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Dark Minx: Training the Asset
Pairing: Winter Soldier x OFC (Larisa Antonov)
Summary: Larisa Antonov, a lifelong servant to Hydra, had one purpose: to seduce. She trained Hydra agents, male and female alike, in the art of seduction. Specifically, how to use it against anyone in the field. Those above her had recently deemed her worthy of the highest honor: training The Winter Soldier.
Warning(s): winter soldier angst, dirty talk, (kind of) degradation kink, dominant!OFC, submissive!Winter Soldier, blowjob, glimpse of dominant!Winter Soldier
Word Count: 2k
The Winter Soldier’s confinement chamber was cold and bare, making it unsuitable for the job. So they did it in Larisa’s chamber instead, which consisted of nothing more than a plush bed and a desk, but was more than enough to get the job done.
Larisa Antonov, a lifelong servant to Hydra, had one purpose: to seduce. She trained Hydra agents, male and female alike, in the art of seduction. Specifically, how to use it against anyone in the field. Those above her had recently deemed her worthy of the highest honor: training The Winter Soldier.
Little did she know that it would be so hard. Or that the world-renowned assassin would be so… shy.
“You can look at me,” Larisa spoke softly as he entered her room, scanning his surroundings for any sign of threat and completely avoiding her gaze. “In fact, the simplest form of seduction comes through eye contact.”
The Winter Soldier said nothing. He obeyed her, though the wariness in his eyes as he locked gazes with her told her he wasn’t listening because he wanted to, but simply because the only thing The Winter Soldier knew how to do was comply.
She rose from the bed, her black lingerie set twisting with her movements. The only sound in the room was her feet padding across the marble floor as she closed the distance between them. She placed a hand on his cheek. He flinched at the movement, and something about that tugged at something inside of her. He stayed stiff and uncomfortable as she touched his cheek, rough with his stubble.
“Do you not want me to touch you?” she asked.
He said nothing.
“It’s important to use your words when being intimate with someone,” Larisa told him. “Pleasure finds its peak when both people get what they want. Tell me what you want. It’s okay; it’s just the two of us here.”
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Larisa stayed silent, giving him however long he needed.
“I want…” His voice was hoarse, and she found herself wondering how many days he had gone since speaking. How long it had been since he had been allowed to speak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I want to leave.”
Part of her wanted to tell him that that wasn’t an option for either of them, that they would both be punished if he left. If she failed to teach him something today.
But she saw the fear in his eyes, and the vulnerability. How long had it been since he’d been honest enough to admit what he wanted? That look in his eyes… it was like looking into a mirror. Larisa recognized those feelings all too well.
So she let him leave.
…
The next day, he lasted a little longer.
She was smart enough to start their training off by asking, “Do you want me to touch you today?”
He was hesitant, but eventually gave a single shake of his head. No.
She nodded. “Okay. I’ll keep my hands to myself. But I’ll need you to touch me.”
Something flashed in his eyes, something Larisa couldn’t place. But he stepped towards her. Slowly. As if he was calculating each step. But even when the distance between them was less than a foot, he didn’t touch her. His hands opened and closed at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them.
“Have you ever touched a woman before?” Larisa wondered.
He frowned. “I… I don’t remember.”
“It’s okay,” she assured. “I can show you how.”
She reached for his hand, then stopped. He didn’t want to be touched. So she changed tactics. She brought her hands to her neck and slowly lowered them, trailing her fingers over the skin between her breasts, around her hips, on her waist.
“When you’re seducing someone,” Larisa began, “think of their body as a canvas, and your hands, your mouth, your tongue—they’re the paintbrush. Touch her softly, slowly, teasingly. You don’t need to go anywhere near her sensitive parts to make her writhe for you.”
She finished her demonstration and lowered her hands to her sides.
“Why don’t you try?” she offered.
He swallowed. But, after a minute of hesitation, he touched her. The leather covering his metal hand felt strange against her skin. His gaze was focused on his hands as they trailed down the curves of her body, touching her the way she had showed him. All the while, Larisa found herself wondering what it would feel like to be touched by the cool metal of his bionic arm. She watched his face closely, scanning for the slightest change in expression, scanning for any sign that he was actually enjoying this.
She found nothing but fear in those blue eyes.
He dropped his hands suddenly. Took a step back, away from her. And said, “I want to leave.”
Again, she found herself wanting to protest. Not only because they would be punished if the people above them found out he wasn’t learning as fast as he should be, but because… Because suddenly her heart was racing. And everywhere he had touched her, her skin now burned.
She wanted him to stay because she wanted him.
But she knew that fear in his eyes, and so she let him leave once again.
…
“Do you want me to touch you today?” Larisa asked as she had everyday for the last week. She asked the question more out of habit now. He had never once said yes to her, and she soon stopped expecting him to.
But today, finally, she watched him nod. “Yes,” he added when she just stared at him in disbelief. “I want you to touch me.”
She moved towards him slowly, giving him enough time to change his mind. But he never did. She searched his face for any sign of uncertainty. There was none. He just held her gaze, unblinking, unafraid. Her face burned as she realized she was probably the first person he’d ever dared to look at like that since… since before he became The Winter Soldier.
He tensed when she brought her hands to his face. The look in his eyes exposed his struggle to relax. How long had it been since someone had touched him gently like this? She didn’t let herself think about it, not as she dragged her hands down his chest. He was thick with muscle, and she found herself wanting to know what he looked like without the layers of clothes. He gasped as her hands trailed down lower, just beneath his navel.
“Is this okay…?” Larisa frowned. “Um, I just realized I don’t know what to call you.”
He frowned too. “I think… I think my name is James.”
“Is this okay, James? Me touching here?”
He was silent as he genuinely thought about his answer. “I want you to touch me somewhere else.”
It was so innocent, the way he said it, but it made Larisa’s core burn all the same. God, she wanted to touch him too.
She brought her mouth to his ear to whisper seductively, “With my hands?” To give him a taste, she brought her hand down to his manhood, palming him over his pants. “Or my tongue?” She licked a stripe up his throat to let him imagine what it would feel like when she did that to his cock. “Or something else?”
He groaned—the most heavenly sound she’d ever heard. It drew the breath from her lungs. She would do whatever it took to elicit that groan from him again.
James moved his hands to her hips. He’d never touched her so willingly before and she wondered if he was even aware he was doing it, or if it was simply instinct, a reaction to his arousal.
“I want your hands,” he said finally. “And I want your tongue. Can I have both?”
“Sweet boy,” she murmured against the soft skin of his throat, “of course you can have both. Will you lie on the bed for me? I think it will maximize your pleasure if you lie down.”
They moved to the bed. Larisa was slow to lower his pants, teasing him with her words and the look in her eyes. The evidence of James’s growing arousal was found not just in his lengthening cock but in the look on his face, in the way his pupils dilated and his mouth parted with quick, shaky breaths.
“I want you to touch me,” James said, his voice shaking.
She smirked down at him. “I know, baby. The need is building, isn’t it? You just need me to touch your cock, don’t you?”
He gave her a desperate look. “Please.”
“Patience is key to seduction,” Larisa explained as she moved between his legs and began kissing along his navel, getting close to his cock but not quite touching it.
James released shaking breaths with every teasing kiss and lick she gave him. She basked in it; in the power this gave her. He was already writhing and desperate and she hadn’t even really touched him yet.
Larisa was slow to wrap a hand around the base of his thick cock. The velvety-smooth skin was warm, the thin vein pulsing. She wanted to put him in her mouth as badly as he did, but she still had to teach him a lesson. One of the rules of seduction was that pleasure needed to be withheld until the last possible moment to extract whatever information one needed from their target. So she kept her hand wrapped around his shaft without moving it, teasing him with the promise of jerking him off but not yet delivering.
“Touch me.” The voice he spoke in now was different. It was dominant, demanding. It was fucking hot. The voice of The Winter Soldier. As arousing as it was terrifying.
Larisa smirked down at him. “And if I don’t?”
He hesitated, not knowing how to answer.
“When you’re in the bedroom, you take the reins,” Larisa told him, holding his gaze so he would know how important this was. “You’re the one in control, not your lover. If you want me to touch you with my mouth, you tell me to do that. Most people love to be dominated, and the more verbal you are with what you want, the better.”
“I want your mouth on me,” he replied, the desperation darkening his eyes.
Larisa smiled and lowered her mouth to his cock, licking a stripe up the side of his shaft. He let out another pornographic moan that made her thighs clench together. She wanted him to make that sound when he fucked her. She bobbed her head up and down his shaft a few times before pulling away.
“You can guide me, move my head how you want,” she offered before going back to sucking his cock.
A second later his fingers were grasping her hair. He pushed her down his length until his cock brushed the back of her throat. She gagged around him, and he finally released her with a pleasurable sigh. They continued like that for several moments—her bobbing her head along his shaft a few times before he would force her to take all of him, only letting go when she signaled that she could no longer breathe. Drool and tears fell down her face by the time his hips began to buck up with his rising climax.
He muttered something in a language Larisa didn’t recognize, and then he was spilling his warm, salty seed down her throat. She eagerly licked up every drop. His body shook even after she finished lapping up his cum.
“How was that?” she asked him.
He just smiled.
“What are you thinking right now?” She wanted to know the thoughts running through his head.
He said, “I’m pissed that I didn’t ask you to do that sooner.”
...
Tag Squad:
@thereisa8ella @geralt-of-baevia @the-soot-sprite @bitchyikes @captainsy-cookiemonster
#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#the winter soldier smut#the winter solider fanfiction#the winter soldier
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crash
so, here i am with a new one shot.
so before anyone asks if i’m gonna be posting frequently again or anything, i process things by writing about them. if something is running through my mind over and over and i can’t think through it on my own in my mind, writing about it generally helps me. this past weekend was supposed to be a fun long weekend away w my friends but it quickly ended when i experienced something pretty traumatic. i haven’t been able to sleep at all the past couple nights and so i started working on this. originally it was just going to be something private to help myself w the panic i was feeling then i started adding a muse into it and then i realised i was still writing about corpse without even meaning to, so i guess he’s still got me feeling musey.
anyway, i thought about keeping this private bc i’m still rly shaken up about what happened but idk feels like a shame to just let it sit on my computer.
idk if i’m back to this blog yet, i still feel indifferent about it. i’m signed out on my phone and was signed out on my laptop until just now and haven’t opened my inbox.
anyway. here’s the one shot.
word count: 1666 words (i’m not kidding)
trigger warning: car crash, panic attack
__________________________________________________
crash
Wake up. Wake up. Wake up wake up wake up.
The words repeated over and over in your head. You’d had dreams about crashing your car before, but usually you woke up just before the point of impact. This time you didn’t.
This couldn’t of happened, this can’t be real, this is a a dream, I’ve got to wake up.
But you were already very much awake, this was very much real.
The colour had already drained from your face, tears were welling up in your eyes and your heart had already sunk. Your hands were trembling, your chest was completely still, you weren’t breathing in that moment. Your body had reacted before your mind had completely caught up.
“Fuck.” Was all you managed to say as realisation had hit you. You’d gotten into a car crash.
You looked around you, wondering how the others cars on the road were still moving when it felt like your world had just come to a stop when your car had its collision. You heard your dad’s voice in your head, all the things he’d told you when he taught you how to drive, had - god forbid - you ever ended up in a situation like this.
You went through the motions as well as you could. You were in a state of shock and physically, you were definitely there, but mentally, you really weren’t present. You were having an out of body feeling in the most terrifying way, it was a defence from the panic that had overwhelmed you.
-
Corpse felt a surge of anxiety. He had no idea why, either. All he was doing was looking through fan art on twitter, he hadn’t seen anything that usually would make him feel like that. It just throttled its way into himself seemingly out of no where.
It was especially odd seeing that today had been such a good day. Waking up beside was usually something that put him in a good head space.
So he started to call you, you always made him feel better. But then he remembered you were driving and you were a cautious driver, you never answered your phone when you were behind the wheel. You’d told him in the past how tenacious your dad had been as a driving teacher and it had really stuck with you.
Just as he was about to hang up, knowing you weren’t going to answer, you did.
“Hello?” Something was off. Corpse heard it right away in just that one greeting from you.
“Are you okay?” He didn’t even greet you back, he already had anxiety running through him and the unsettling tone of your answer of the phone had only made it increase.
“I think so.” You were so monotoned. Corpse had never heard you speak this way. You were a lot of things, but monotone was not one. You were expressive, bright and dramatic.
“You think so?” He repeated in a questioning way, wanting to know what was wrong.
“Yeah.” You responded so plainly again. Corpse almost wanted to ask you who was he speaking to right now, because surely this couldn’t have been you. This person had your voice, but this was a person he did not know right now.
“What’s going on?”
“I crashed my car.” You said it to him so simply. There was no emotion behind it. His heart thundered as if a terrible hail storm had just broken out.
“What?!”
“I crashed my car.” You repeated. Once again so eerily unemotional.
“Where are you?!”
-
Corpse shouldn’t have been driving in the state he was in, but he needed to get to you. His emotions were running so high and he couldn’t comprehend why yours weren’t.
After what felt like the longest drive of his life, he reached the crash site. His panic peaked when he spotted the ambulance, immediately thinking the worst. But then he saw you standing to the side of it. You were up and talking to the paramedics, that was at least a good sign you weren’t seriously injured.
“(Y/N),” He called for you as he got out of his own car. And just like your voice on the phone, your movements were so robotic.
You were normally so open with your emotions, you were such a readable and honest person. When you were happy, you shined, when you were mad, you yelled red, when you were sad, you cried oceans. But Corpse had never seen you in a true state of shock. He’d never seen your fight or flight response. And apparently it was a stillness and unresponsive, the complete opposite to how you were normally.
“Are you okay?” He knew you probably weren’t, but he couldn’t find any clue to how you were feeling. Until his footsteps brought him closer to you.
You didn’t respond to him at all. Even words felt like too much right now. As he neared you, though, he spotted the signs of fear your body displayed that your words did not. Your hands and arms were trembling, your shoulders were slumped, your face was completely pale, sweat dotted all over your forehead despite it not being a hot day, tears were slowly spilling from your eyes one by one, your chest was moving unevenly as you struggled to breathe properly.
“Baby, c’mere.” Corpse didn’t hesitate to gather you in his arms. Holding you so tenderly against him. That’s when he felt that it was more than just your arms and hands that were trembling, your entire body had a slight shake to it. He knew you were experiencing true terror in that moment.
-
The time between your banged up car getting placed onto a tow truck and arriving back at your apartment felt like a blur.
You’d just gotten off the phone with your insurance provider when you’d heard Corpse.
“Are you in any pain?”
"What?” You’d heard him perfectly but you hadn’t once thought about how this had affected you physically.
“Are you in any pain?” He repeated himself.
“I’m not sure.” And you weren’t, but the paramedics had said that adrenaline would be coursing through you right now and adrenaline was the biggest distraction from pain. “I’m gonna go have a shower.”
“Okay.” Corpse watched you with concerned eyes until you disappeared behind your bathroom door. He so badly wanted to help, wanted to make you feel better, break you out of this state you were in that he was so not used to.
-
You didn’t know how much time you’d spent in the shower. But it was long enough that the sky had grown darker and the moon had replaced the sun by the time you emerged. Once you’d gotten dressed, you made slow steps towards your bedroom. Your hands were trembling more violently than before and your breathing was speeding up.
The shock was finally wearing off and reality was getting ready to slap you hard across the face.
“Corpse...” Your voice was so silent, almost as if you couldn’t form a word due to the air that seemed harder and harder to breathe as a panic attack started to take control of you.
Corpse might not have even heard you had he not been on such high alert for you right now. But he was, and so he did he hear you and when he saw the state you were in, he instantly got up from his spot on your bed where he was waiting for you and was wrapping you up tight.
You were hyperventilating so dangerously, your heart felt like it was being encased in treacherous clouds that tightened with every intake of air you struggled to get.
You couldn’t remember the last time you had cried this way. You were breaking down.
Corpse was completely holding you up. Had it not been for him, you would be a crumbled heap on the floor.
-
The both of you didn’t sleep that night.
Every time you were close to drifting off, the crash would replay in your mind on an insufferable loop and you would jolt awake and the panic would restart all over.
And every time, Corpse was right there to hold you through it. He didn’t sleep due to how concerned he was about you.
-
The next day was a little easier mentally, but a lot harder physically. You’d gotten so much emotion out the night before that now the pain could have your attention.
Everything from your hips up felt sore, stiff and tense. Every time you moved your neck was scary because it felt like it was about to snap. But worst of all was your chest. It was hard and painful to breathe. The paramedics had warned you about this. The impact to your chest was going to take the longest to recover from. You kept your breathing shallow, any other kind of breathing made you wince and Corpse noticed.
“You’re hurting.” It wasn’t a question, he was stating what he noticed. He’d known the signs of someone in pain. Plus he had also taken note of the bruises that had appeared on your skin, the colouring of them looking like a painting of a galaxy, all purple and blue.
“A little bit.”
“Mhm.” He knew it was more than a little bit, but he wasn’t about to argue with you. He looked over you laying beside him, grateful that you were still here, you were alive. A car could be replaced, but you could not.
You were flat on your back because that was really only the current position that felt even the tiniest bit comfortable right now. Corpse was on his side, one of his hands supporting his head as he leaned over you. His other hand began to soothingly run his fingers through your hair and you let your eyes flutter close at the touch.
“Tired?”
“Yeah.” You mumbled back, keeping your eyes shut and feeling exhaustion take over you.
“Try sleeping, baby. I’ll be right here.”
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“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 3, Chp. 9″
youtube
"Black Butterfly, sail across the waters Tell your sons and daughters what the struggle brings Black Butterfly, set the skies on fire Rise up even higher So the ageless winds of time can catch your wings"
Deniece Williams – "Black Butterfly"
Disa spotted Pamela in the middle of the floor.
The moment the beat hit her ears, Pamela threw her head back and tossed her ass in a circle letting Disa know it was good to go.
The beginning was always the difficult part of her sets when she was trying to create a montage of feelings through sound. There were peaks and valleys she had to hit in order to hold the audience hostage. She almost lost it halfway through Zana High Life when the host shouted out DJ Geechee Dan standing on the side of the stage. Disa had been trying to find him up in the VIP section and he was right there, less than twenty feet from her watching her cut up a live mix.
It was Erik that saved her from bumbling her set as she focused on him moving instead of Geechie Dan being so near her. He came out of nowhere and she had no idea he could dance so well. The boy showed out and Pamela tried to keep up. It brought a smile to her lips to see him grab her homegirl and dance Pamela around. No one had ever been able to hang with her, and Erik pushed the woman to go all out.
Disa reeled everyone back in when she let Erik's voice quote "Beloved" over the music. He matched the tone of the syncopated beats. It sounded romantic. Dreamy. She took a respite and let the mix play as she watched him dance. So fluid. Like water. She knew he practiced capoeira and decided to go off script and freestyle her set. Dragging down some berimabau sounds, she cued up a Brazilian jam and dropped it on top of her own drumming in time to the stringed instrument. It struck like a thunderbolt on Erik and it shocked her to see him backflip and hold his body in a handstand as his legs moved in slow motion before he crouched on the floor low and swayed to the ancient sounds.
The boy was bad.
Loose hips and expressive arm movement fooled everyone into thinking he was just jamming instead of showing off a martial art. Disa was in awe and almost missed her next transition cue because she was so mesmerized by him. How could that brainy, standoffish, and arrogant man-child turn into a snake-hipped God of the dance?
Pamela jumped back on him and Disa played with them both by skipping her planned closing and taking the two of them to the Black Queer spaces she roamed with Pamela and friends. Punching up the voice of the icon Selvin Mizrahi, aka MC Debra, Disa brought in ballroom beats.
"That shouldn't have been the question," echoed about the space and Pamela stopped dancing with Erik and pointed a finger at Disa.
"Don't play with me, bitch!" Pamela shouted before she dropped to the floor and duck walked like the diva she was. This attracted their other homegirl Tatum who dipped several times making Yamilet stand aside with weak knees. Pamela played with Tatum in a simulated ballroom battle over Erik's attention until Tatum pushed Pamela aside and twirled around the youngster capturing his attention. The audience roared when Erik dropped into his own duck walk challenging Tatum. Erik's friends howled and the entire venue lost it when he dipped three times in front of Tatum making her storm off in a pretend huff as he duck walked after her before spinning on his back and shoulders. He grabbed Tatum's hand and ground on her ass with the closing notes of Disa's set. Loud whistles and claps erupted, and she waved to the crowd before the lights switched over to the next DJ who looked frightened at the prospect of following up after her.
Tatum rushed over to her swiping back long strands of crimped and twisty hair.
"Girl, your lil man was out here giving what he was supposed to give! Is he…?"
"Erik? No, I don't believe so."
"He was putting that thang on me like he wanted a piece of the good, Sis. He grab on me again like that and I'll let him get a taste."
Tatum's dark brown eyes were glossy from drinking and she followed Disa as she carried her crate of vinyl to the green room.
"He's not the type to turn mean if he knows….y'now…" Tatum said.
"He's very open. I don't think he'd trip to know you're Trans."
"Good. Cuz he could get it from any of these women out here. Did you see him move? I know Pamela is butt hurt that she was not the center of the dance universe tonight."
Tatum watched her tuck her crate under a covered table and push them far back with her jacket on top of it with her computer bag.
"I liked how you closed out your set."
"People liked it, yeah?"
"Yeah, but I worry cuz you know how these niggas be wildin' if you bring in the Fam in hetero spaces. Everybody turns into homophobe and kills the vibe for everybody."
Disa's cell buzzed. She pulled it from her back pocket.
"Yamilet and them. She's out by the car now."
Disa dragged her crate back out and Tatum carried her computer bag for her. They headed outside to the parking lot. Yamilet was there with Pamela, and Essie. She opened her trunk and Disa dumped her stuff. The women gave her joyous hugs and high fives before they traipsed back in to catch the other DJs.
Erik ran up to her breathless.
"Hey! I thought you were leaving!"
Disa patted his arm.
"No, just putting my gear away. Erik, these are my friends…"
She introduced everyone, and Erik shook their hands. Tatum and Pamela gave him big hugs and Yamilet snapped her fingers at him.
"Geechie… Hey! Geechie Dan, hold up!" Erik shouted.
Disa's heart dropped in her belly. Erik shook her idol's hand and brought him over to Disa.
"This is Disa Abdullah-Woods, your biggest fan," Erik said.
"My dear, sweet, woman, you are a master class of gifts. That set was-"
Geechie Dan kissed his fingers to end his praise.
Disa held out a trembling hand to him.
"No, that's not gonna do, Buttafly. Bring it in," he said opening his arms wide.
Disa burst into tears.
"Hey, I'm nobody to cry over," he whispered.
Geechie Dan gave Disa a big hug, and she stood there like a blubbering baby. The years that she spent practicing what she would say to the man if she ever met him in person went straight out the window. She used to laugh at people who became overly emotional meeting celebrities, but now she totally understood the overwhelming feeling that surged through her.
She wiped her eyes and Erik rubbed her back with gentle circles.
"I've been a fan since I was a little kid," she stammered out.
"Erik here told me. I told him how much I enjoyed his dancing and he just went in about you."
A crowd surrounded Geechie Dan, but he ignored them, his twinkling eyes on her.
"It has been a long time since I've seen a DJ create a set with so much intention behind it. You have something special in you, young lady. Never lose that gift."
Disa's mouth seemed to lose all ability to work. All the things she wanted to say stalled in her throat. He was there in the flesh. Standing in front of her.
"Disa has a radio show you should go on," Erik suggested.
"Oh yeah? Give me your number. I'll call you up and we can chop it up."
Geechie Dan pulled out his cell and Disa gave him her number, her voice a soft shell of its usual assertive tone.
"When I get some free time, I'll hit you up. Excuse me, they want me back up on stage. Amazing set, Disa. Keep spinning!"
The man shook her hand with both of his and his entourage and promoters swept him away.
"She's still in shock," Yamilet said waving her hand in Disa's face.
Erik's bright smile attracted her attention. Had he not spoken to the man, Disa may very well have missed her opportunity to meet him, let alone remember to ask the man for a radio interview. Her mind floated with the surreal nature of the experience. Her cell buzzed.
Here's my number. I'll be in New York in a few weeks, would be open to an in-person radio interview.
Geechee Dan's personal cell number. She had it. In her palm.
Disa reached out and grabbed Erik's shoulders. She planted a big fat kiss on his lips.
"Damn, what was that for?" he said.
"Being here," she said.
He wiped his lips and smiled.
"Erik…"
Chloe slinked up and slipped her arm in Erik's, tugging him towards the dance floor. Disa watched him enter the thick crowd of swaying bodies to dance once more.
###
Her night was a dreamy success.
Disa stayed in a popular hotel with her friends, and they hung out in the bar. Erik strolled into the lobby with his friends. In a tipsy stupor, Disa walked over to him with a fresh drink in her hand. "Didn't know you were staying here too," she said.
He took the drink from her and sipped it down.
"Hey… you can't drink this here out in the open, you're underage!"
She snatched it away from his lips.
"Nah, it's after midnight… I'm twenty-one now," he said.
"Oh, shit. It's your birthday? Today?"
"Yep."
"Happy Birthday, Erik!"
She hugged him tight and gave him the glass of liquor.
"Enjoy," she said.
"What room are we in?" Jace asked.
Erik's dorm companion looked sleepy along with two other guys.
"301," Erik said handing Jace a key card.
Disa's friends called for her to return to the bar counter.
"Come celebrate with us," she said pointing to her group.
"I'm beat, to be honest. Thanks for asking me though."
"If you change your mind, we'll be down here."
"Good to know."
"Thanks for everything, Erik. Tonight was really special and meant a lot to me. Especially with you hooking me up with Geechie Dan."
"Glad to make your dream come true."
His eyes penetrated hers.
"Okay grown-ass man, go to bed," she said pushing on his arm playfully.
"You're drunk," he teased.
"A happy one at that," she said stumbling off to join her girls.
Three more drinks later, after a heated discussion with a group of men who hovered around them trying to interject their unwanted opinions about dating, Disa leaned over the bar counter and asked for a special birthday cocktail for Erik. She went to the lobby restroom, collected the drink afterward, and excused herself from her friends. She took the elevator to the third floor and found Erik's room. The fruity exotic drink had a lot of strong liquor in it. Knocking on the door, she waited for someone to answer. She could hear a tv on and talking going on inside.
Kelvin, a cute nerdy string bean answered the door.
"Is Erik up?" she asked.
Kelvin's eyes nearly popped out looking at her.
"You were so good," he yelped.
"Thank you… um… Erik?"
"He's not here."
"Not here? Did he go out?"
"No, he's in that room," Kelvin said pointing across the hall to room 302.
"Thanks," she said.
Kelvin closed the door and Disa did a one-eighty and rapped her knuckles on the new door. She toyed with the blue umbrella and pineapple garnish on his drink. Erik answered. Shirtless and wearing tight gray boxers.
"Hey," she said.
"Um… Hi. 'sup?"
"Birthday drink. A proper one."
She thrust it out to him and tried to brush past him, but he held an arm up in the door jamb blocking her. Her brain failed to register that he didn't want her inside, and she bumped against him, her breasts touching his chest.
"I can't come in?"
"I have someone here," he said.
Her eyes cut behind him. Chloe was draped in nothing but a sheet, the tops of her breasts threatening to spill over her arm that clutched the covers.
"Oh, snap. I'm sorry. I thought you were staying with the guys over there. Didn't realize you had your own room. Here, enjoy the drink," she said.
Erik took the bulbous glass, and his expression was full of embarrassment. He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. Disa stepped back from him and fumbled with her hands.
"Handle your business. It's time for me to get to bed myself… get some sleep. Have fun!"
She tried to sound jovial, but something in the back of her throat made her voice accusatory. As if she caught him doing something behind her back. For months she thought of Erik as her little pet. He was her loyal puppy, and she had to admit she enjoyed all the fawning he did over her. But he was also a young man with needs. She tried not to look at the package that was hanging in his underwear. The outline of it was showing off. God forbid if he was a grower too.
"Me and Chloe kinda got this thing going on now…"
"New girlfriend and good birthday sex is a blessing. Night Erik."
She turned to leave and pivoted back to him.
"Can I put on a birthday dinner for you and your family? I know you're planning on eating at Toulouse, but I would love to host your birthday party at my place."
"That's too much Disa. I have a lot of people coming in from all over."
"How many?"
"Fifteen—"
"Pfft, boy, you've been to my dinner parties, you know how I get down. Fifteen is nothing for me."
"The cost alone will be crazy—"
"Let me handle that. You deserve a special day. You made my night amazing, let me show my appreciation. What would you like to eat?"
Erik's eyes grew thoughtful, they dropped to look at his drink.
"I love your Confit de Canard,"
"Aw, I see. I finally got you to give in to duck meat."
"It's gonna be hella expensive."
"Don't worry about it. Let's say six sharp on Saturday, three courses and Turkish coffee with a birthday cake."
His eyes lit up.
"I'll let my people know."
"Tell them to dress up. I'll plan a splendid evening with games afterward."
Erik grabbed her hand and pulled her in close.
"Thank you," he said.
"Better get back to Chloe. Don't want her chewing my head off for keeping all of this out of the bed."
She smirked at him and wandered down the hall.
###
Chloe had a frown n her face when Erik walked back into the hotel room.
"What did she want?"
"Birthday gift," he said holding up the fancy drink.
He sipped it, and the liquor was too strong for his tastes. It would knock him out before he had a chance to smash Chloe. He put the glass on the nightstand and pulled off his boxers. His dick was already at half-mast.
"Why is your dick like that already?"
Chloe sat up, and the frown on her face deepened.
"Looking at you gets me excited," he countered.
Hopping into the bed, he pulled back the sheets and swiped her nipples with his tongue.
"You're attracted to her."
"Disa? That's my homegirl—"
"Everyone knows you have a crush on her. You turn into a puddle whenever she's around."
Chloe folded her arms over her breasts blocking his access.
"If your dick is getting hard for her, maybe you should get some birthday sex from her instead!"
"Chloe. Stop trippin'. I'm giving this dick to you."
He rubbed the hardening length against her thigh. She slapped it.
"Wanna play rough?" he said.
"Was your dick hard for that Trans chick too?"
"What?"
"Disa's friend. The one with the long fluffy hair. You didn't know?"
"No. She fine as fuck though."
"You'd fuck a Trans woman?"
There was disgust on her face.
Erik sat up. He'd been around Trans women and Trans men all his life, especially in Brazil. He had a Trans play uncle in Sao Paulo who used to babysit him and his play cousin Marisol.
"A woman is a woman. She got titties I can play with and a hole I can fuck, I don't see a problem—"
"Ohmigod! You really would fuck her."
"That ass was amazing."
"I can't believe you're serious!"
"Are you a queerphobe? Cuz if you are, that's not gonna work for me."
"No… I just… I can't picture you being like that."
"Like what?"
"Accepting. You're like a man's man—"
"A Transphobe? I wasn't raised like that. My mother would never let me treat people like shit who didn't deserve it."
Chloe stared down at her hands.
"I'm glad to hear that, actually."
"Yeah? Why?"
Her eyes welled up.
"My sister… she's transitioning… he's becoming my brother and I worry about him going up against guys like you."
"Guys like me?"
"Y'know overly masculine. He's coming to visit me in a few weeks and I wanted you to meet him since he's interested in capoeira."
Her eyes met his.
"I didn't mean to be accusatory about Disa's friend. She's beautiful. Prettier than me."
"You're the prettiest woman in this room right now."
She slapped his hand and smiled.
"But you do like Disa. Right?"
"She's my friend. I had a big crush on her when I first arrived on campus, but now… she's like a mentor… a big sister. We're close and she teaches all kinds of cool stuff. I probably do act all goofy when I'm around her—"
"It's cute… really. I just… let's forget about it."
He kissed her. With guilt. Disa meant more to him than just a big sister or a mentor. She was the ultimate woman. But she would never see him as a man.
Chloe wrapped her lips around his dick and rolled a condom on his shaft after she plumped him up to complete hardness. She presented her backside to him and he sank into her walls and pumped, enjoying her soft sighs and cries of passion. He took off the condom much later as she allowed him to fuck her raw in the ass and dump a hot load in her anal walls. She kept his mind off of Disa and those lush breasts that truly made his dick thicken and visibly tell Chloe the truth. Disa was his dream girl. Everyone could see it.
###
The large package arrived at Disa's house the day before Erik's birthday party. She called him on his phone to tell them that a big box with a D.C. return address and B. Dunduza written in black block letters was sitting in her living room.
He drove over to her house, and Disa watched him tear it open. There was a note on top of the bubble wrap.
"Kept these in storage for you. We wanted to wait until you turned twenty-one to have them. Cherish them as we cherish you."
Uncle Bakari and Auntie Shavonne both signed it.
Erik removed the layer of bubble wrap and his heart nearly stopped.
He fingered the old dark brown leather, and a breath shuddered out of him.
"Erik? You alright?" Disa asked.
She put a hand on his shoulder as he lifted the leather-bound journal from the box.
"These are my father's journals," he whispered.
Opening the first journal, he recognized the careful Wakandan script written by his father's powerful hand. They taped a small piece of bubble wrap on the page. Erik unraveled it and gasped before falling on his backside.
"What is it?" Disa asked, rising concern coloring her voice
Opening his fingers, Erik stared at the wondrous gift.
His Baba's ring. Attached to the chain his mother bought for him as an anniversary gift. The chain his father wore the night he was killed by King T'Chaka.
His family birthright.
Now his.
Chapter 10 HERE
###
Tag List:
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#Black Boys Bloom Thorns First#Volume 3#Killmonger Fanfiction#Killmonger Fanfic#Black Panther Fanfiction#Uzumaki Rebellion#N'Jobu
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Okay I don’t really post a lot on here but I really wanted to put in my two cents on Gang of Secrets (Yes, I know I’m two days late) OH MY GOD, GUYS! Thomas Astruc and the gang promised that this would be an emotional season but GOS absolutely went above and beyond all of my expectations, and trust me: they were high. I thought Chat Blanc was the peak of Angst and Fluff and then we’re hit with this episode! Every single time I thought that it had reached the best part, something even better happened! Here comes a rant
CAUTION: Gang of Secrets spoilers below
LADYNOIR MOVIE DATE LADYNOIR MOVIE DATE LADYNOIR MOVIE DATE!!!
Adrien really out and tried the oldest move in the book with that stretch arm around her thing and I adore him for that
Also can we PLEASE talk about Adrien's character development? Yeah, he was putting the moves on Ladybug as always because he didn't know about her breakup or pain. The SECOND he realized something was really wrong, he stopped and was there for her, recognizing her heartbreak. Can we please stop giving him shit for flirting? He didn't show a hint of jealousy or pride that now she's single and can date him or something like that. He was a perfect gentleman and even better A GOOD FRIEND TO HER.
Marinette using Ladybug as an escapism tactic, hiding away from her own life by staying in Ladybug. That hurt and also felt like a personal attack on my own escapism tactics.
Trixx was so sweet, trying to encourage Marinette to call the girls back and taking down the pictures that made her sad. We need more Trixx content!!!
We're all talking about Juleka taking the 4k close-up of Luka but are we just gonna graze over the fact that Alya has countless pictures of Marinette being Marinette™ in front of Adrien?
also, JULEKA SAW HER DEPRESSED BROTHER AND HER FIRST INSTINCT WAS TO TAKE A PICTURE AND I WOULD SELL A KIDNEY TO SEE THAT SCENE IN CANON (But I'm living for all the art of if)
Rose leaning on Juleka's shoulder, Juleka calling Rose "Princess," My sapphic heart can't handle this
Marinette... Do you keep those glasses on you at all times? Why was she wearing them while sobbing in a bathroom stall? Why is everyone just glossing over this? I have so many questions about a 5-second scene.
Mylene: Let's do this cool ritual I saw ancient tribes do in an old magazine! Alix: Or we could just bring her juice and do something normal? Everyone: Looks at Alix like SHE'S the crazy one
THE ANIMATION MADE THIS EPISODE SO MUCH MORE HEARTBREAKING! IT'S SO SMOOTH AND CINEMATIC AND THE DETAIL OF THE RED PUFFINESS OF MARINETTE'S EYES!
The symbolism of the dollhouse that she used to hide the Miraculous box
Did Marinette really out and build this wholeass fake sewing box with a specific secret button sequence on the thread spools in like 10 minutes? "Welp, that cardboard dollhouse didn't work. Onto Plan B" WHAT
All kwamis are canonically aroace and yes, my Plikki heart sobs, but the REPRESENTATION FOR MY AROACES OUT THERE!
Eiffel tower go woooo
Ladybug trusted Chat to go and fight FOUR villains ON HIS OWN
AND HE DID
ALYA BROKE FREE FROM THE AKUMATIZATION
I REPEAT
ALYA BROKE FREE ON HER OWN BECAUSE SHE TRUSTED LADYBUG
Ladybug told Alya about being the guardian which is a secret that is better left unknown for her own safety as well as that of the sidekicks (I believe this is when she made up her mind to tell Alya, but I'll talk about that more in a future post)
Alya promised not to say a word about Ladybug being the guardian or look into it anymore despite it being her biggest scoop up to that point.
FINALLY SOME MORE RENA ROGUE
Alya is here for the MariChat shippers and for that we are eternally grateful
Chat calling Rena and Ladybug "My ladies"
Ladybug calling Chat "My kitty"
I'm sobbing
Ladybug trusted Chat and Rena so much that she let herself get captured by the four villains, despite being one of the two most powerful miraculous holders and also the gaurdian
Rose looking into Ladybug's eyes and clearly admiring her form when she catches her. Super heterosexual
Ladybug was upset seeing her friends hugging and then Rena offered her her fist and she saw her two partners and felt happy again
The girls really came through for Marinette and even though she yelled and tried to push them away, they forgave her and offered her their support as she'd done so many times for each of them in the past. The girls deserve all the joy in the world
Alya could tell that Marinette was putting up a front to everyone and still wasn't telling them everything because best friends know all. Sorry Alya salters
"If you don't want to tell me what's happening, that's your right." Alya is so understanding that Marinette, the girl who had always been so open and honest and bubbly, is keeping something to herself that's weighing her down. And she doesn't push her to talk about it. Just offers her support. What a wonderful day to stan Alya Cesaire.
"If it's too heavy, we'll be two to carry it" I'M SOBBING
Marinette really set it up like she was about to come out to Alya and I'm wheezing
THE REVEAL
THE REVEAL
Alya didn't freak out or ask Marinette to prove it or even ask any questions. She was surprised for a moment and then immediately thought about the overwhelming pressure those responsibilities were putting on her best friend and set aside all of her own thoughts and reactions to comfort her. She is such an amazing person and amazing friend and I'm loving watching the Alya salters pout about this episode.
Miraculous has taken over tumblr and the trending and I say to that that it's about damn time. WE RISE
#What a wonderful time to be a multishipper#gang of secrets#ml season 4#ml spoilers#mlb#mlb spoilers#GOS#miraculous ladybug#miraculous#miraculoushub#luka couffaine#marinette#marichat#alyanette#ladynoir#adrienette#tikki#plagg#wobble eiffel tower#trixx#rena rogue#alya cesaire#miraculous ladybug rant#gang of secrets rant#gang of secrets spoilers
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A change in fate
a maribat fanfic
Chapter 02
Along with the changes to her room, Marinette had also changed her wardrobe. She now wore a cropped baby blue hoodie over a grey-purple shirt, that matched her leggings. Over her leggings she wore a high waisted demin coloured skirt with matching heeled ankle boots. A new larger purse, more a satchel really, hung from her shoulder. It allowed her to carry her sketchbook and other tools more easily. Her hair now mostly hung lose over her shoulders with two braids coming from the sides and connecting at the back of her head.
Once she was ready Marinette walked at an easy pace to the agreed meeting spot. Duusu Had taken to hiding within her hood, so that they could drink in all of the sights. Being both not used for a hundred or so years and being broken, made this a real treat for the little peafowl. Marinette could practically feel the little god vibrating with joy, to be outside in the world again.
The sun was shining through the clouds and a soft breeze made the early autumn leaves rustle in the trees, as the two reached the park. Marinette could already spot the red-haired omega sitting on a bench close to the pond in the shade of a willow tree. He was fidgeting with a pencil and his sketch book lay on his lap. His posture looked tense.
By the look of it he too had a wardrobe change. Marinette was gonna bet that Marc had helped with the ensemble. Those two were inseparable. He wore a white long-sleeved turtleneck shirt with grey stripes on his chest. Faded navy pants and a jacked tied around his waist. A black and white backpack with rainbow details sat beside him.
“Hey, Nathaniel,” Marinette called out, gaining said boy’s attention as she neared.
“Hey, Marinette,” Nathaniel greeted, his shoulders losing the smallest amount of tension. “Glad you could come. I hope you weren’t too busy.”
“Circumstances made it so that I had nothing scheduled today. But I do hope you were not lying about it being important. Otherwise I will send the Fury’s of art upon thee,” The blue-eyed girl exclaimed in a posh voice. Marinette hoped that it would lighten some of the tension that was flowing through the air and it seemed to work. There was no need for an Akuma today.
“Oh, I beg mercy of thee. Do not condemn me to such a fate, for I would not dare to break my vow,” Nathaniel exclaimed in kind, placing his hand on his heart. It made both of the omegas chuckle and the hidden kwami purr softly.
“So, what is it you wanted to talk about?” Marinette asked, as nonchalant as possible. As she sat down on the bench and pulled out a thermos from her satchel. Which held the gods elixir, coffee. “It sounded quite urgent from your text.”
“Yeah, it is,” Nathaniel said sheepishly, scratching his neck. “But it is not an easy subject to start a conversation with. Or to talk about in general, I believe. So, let me first ask you how you are feeling. I know you have probably had this question asked to many times already. But I know what it is like to be akumatized and of the nightmares that follow so don’t try to say that all is just hunky-dory great.”
Marinette hummed at his words, raising an amused eyebrow at the last bit. Before turning her gaze away from the redhead. Her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings for any uninvited guests. While she knew Nathaniel would keep to his word the scent anxiety kept her slightly on edge. Paranoia had settled deep into her over the past few years. Only the little hidden kwami’s presence was what kept her calm. For Duusu would inform her if someone with bad intentions was to come close.
After a moment of thought Marinette answered. “I was a bit shaken after the whole event, who wouldn’t? All considered though, I think I am doing pretty good.”
After the whole reveal of her being a true soul, Duusu had helped sort out her emotions. They had given her a few suggestions on how to more healthily coupe with the more negative ones. Who knew writing your problems down on a slip of paper and then watching it burn could be so therapeutic.
She turned her gaze back to Nathaniel. “As for the subject of our meeting. Just be blunt about and we will go from there. Keeping it bottled up and it will only stress you out over time and I really don’t wanna deal with an akuma right now,” She accentuated the last part of her statement.
“Yeah, that would really kill the mood wouldn’t it,” Nathaniel sighed. He took a small breath to collect his courage as Marinette took another sip of her coffee. Then Nathaniel bluntly stated: “I know that you are the original ladybug.”
Cue spit-take from Marinette. Mental panic has reached its peak! Abort!! ABORT!!!
“Uhm…I don’t know wha-”
“Don’t even try Marinette. The amount of times I saw ladybug land on your balcony only for you to leave through the front door and vice versa. Was a big enough give away. After that your physiques just matched up,” Nathaniel boldly interrupted. Leaving Marinette in a stunned wide-eyed stare. “Hey, I might not be a fashion designer, but I am an artist and have an eye for these details just like you.” He said quickly with a small stutter. Since he was feeling a little unnerved at her wide-eyed stare. It was as if she was staring into his soul.
“How long have you known?” The female omega asked tentively, her scent spiked with anxiety. Her body language screamed that she was ready to bolt.
“For maybe seven months now,” Nathaniel replied carefully.
“Did you tell anyone?” Marinette asked further, the tension not leaving her.
“I told no one, not even Marc. I know of the importance and reasons behind a hero’s secret identity,” Nathaniel told her sincerely, allowing Marinette to breathe a small sigh of relief. The redhead then let out a small growl of annoyance. “Unlike a certain tabloid reporter and two-faced liar.” Now that that really got the noir haired girl’s attention even more than him knowing her secret.
“The spell broke,” Marinette whispered as his words settled into her brain as her eyes widened even more, if that was even possible, in surprise. While she had been frightened at the fact of him knowing her secret, but he had not told anyone. She could tell that he was honest in the fact that he had not told anyone. Since otherwise her identity would have probably been public news by now. Secrets like this would spread around like wildfire with the slightest slip off the tongue.
So, she was now more interested in the fact that he called Rossi a liar. It meant that he had broken through her spell and she wanted to know how he came to this revelation. Had it come after he had fond out about her hidden I.D. or was it something else. She was practically vibrating with a curious need to know and asked him about it.
Nathaniel turned his eyes to the sky, several emotions running trough them. Most prominent was the look of shame and pain. “It did weaken her hold over me, but what really made me realise she was a liar was when she promised to introduce me to one of my idols. One I know to have passed away. I won’t say their name, but that really broke the illusion for me,” He spoke bitterly.
Marinette let out a pained hiss at that. Knowing how painful it is to have someone disrespect your inspirational idols in that manner. She softly rubbed his shoulder in comfort and gave a small apology. Nathaniel let out a gloomy laugh and turned his eyes to the ground. “You have nothing to apologize for Marinette. I should be the one to apologize. For never mastering up the courage to stand up for you even after I realized Lie-la’s grandeur was nothing more than empty words. And I am truly sorry for that. Because after everything you have helped me with, I really should have.”
Marinette felt her heart flutter at his apology and then he just kept on rambling about how he should have stood up for her. How he should have trusted her. Making her feel hot tears gather in her eyes. She had waited so long to have one of her friends back and here was one. Trying his best to make amends and unlike the rest of her class, he had never hurt her in the same way the others had. He always remained kind to her even before he knew of her secret. He may have been afraid to stand up but did not try to ruin her life like the others. So, she had no trouble pulling him into a hug. At first it shocked the boy, but he gratefully returned the gesture.
“Don’t blame yourself. You did not do anything wrong. You did not turn your back to me like the others did. I don’t blame you for not standing up against Rossi. You would have only painted a target on your back, and she would have made you feel miserable. Like with me,” Marinette whispered. “And I need to thank you for keeping my secret all this time. It means the world to me.” Nathaniel tightened his hold on the girl as a few tears of relief and gratitude fell from his eyes, as the words left her mouth. Duusu nuzzled against her neck in comfort. A feeling of pride washing over the kwami of emotion at his little bird.
_____________________________________________________________________
After they let go of each other they settled back into more comfortable sitting positions. The atmosphere feeling lighter than it had been around them for a long while.
“If it is okay to ask,” Nathaniel spoke carefully. “Is the new ladybug permanent? Because if I am being honest, I don’t really trust her.”
Marinette let outa pained sigh. “I made a grave mistake and because of that this new ladybug has the ladybug miraculous. I don’t know how to rectify this mistake, but I will find a way. That is a promise.”
“You always find a way,” Nathaniel assured. “I’ll keep my eyes open as well. I might not be the bravest, but I want to help. After everything I need to help. Even the tiniest bit.” Marinette wanted to say he did not have to. He did not let her say it. “You have forgiven me, but now I need to forgive myself. So let me help. Paris is my home to.”
It made Marinette smile as she felt the sincere emotion and determination flood of her fellow omega. “Now if only I knew how Lie-la is capable of keeping our classmates and others at her bag and call. That might help take bit of stress of my back,” She sighed. Her eyes scanning the sky, hoping it held the answers.
This made Nathaniel scratch his neck again sheepishly. “Marc and I may have a theory on how she keeps everyone under her spell, actually,” He mumbled off.
Marinette whipped around so fast it was a wonder she did not get any whiplash. She grabbed the redhead’s shoulders and looked straight into his turquoise eyes. Her own silvery blue crystal eyes were ablaze with a cold fire. “Please explain how that two-faced bitch is killing all the fucking braincells of the people around us and turning them into fucking sheep,” Her voice had an icy chill to it that sent shivers up the Nathaniel’s spine.
“I didn’t know you could curse,” Nathaniel said trying to curl away from the internally raging female omega.
It resulted in Marinette raising an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Trust me when I say Chloe can swear like a bloody sailor. So, I learned a few things from her,” She huffed a small smirk on her face. She then let go of his shoulders, giving the redhead some room to breath, as a curios gaze replaced the once cold fire. “Please share. My curiosity is going to kill me.”
Before Nathaniel could start telling her about the theory however, a loud explosion penetrated the air. Both omegas turned to the source of the sound. A good distance away they saw a person a top a glider. They cackled madly as they threw loud explosives around.
Really Hawkmoth, can’t they have one day of peace?
The answer: Nope.
“How about we continue this conversation tomorrow over lunch. Chloe and Marc can join in on the theory. I do believe Chloe will be thrilled to know how Lie-la is capable of maintaining the utterly ridiculous situation at school,” Marinette proposed. Her eyes never leaving the new akuma.
“You are going to investigate, aren’t you?” Nathaniel asked nervously. Marinette simply nodded not looking at him. He sighed, “I won’t be able to change your mind, will I? How can I help?”
“It would be best for you to get to safety,” Marinette advised. Turning to look him directly in the eye and stopping him from objecting. “You have no need to worry about me. I still have an ace up my sleeve. So, trust me,” She assured with a mischievous look in her eyes.
Nathaniel stared uneasily at his fellow omega before nodding. “Alright but be careful, okay, I better see you at school tomorrow.” Was the last thing he said before grabbing his stuff and turning away to go to one of the akuma shelters. Leaving Marinette alone.
Taking a quick survey of her surroundings, to make sure the coast was clear, she asked Duusu to come out. “Are you ready?” the little god asked. Marinette smirked in reply. Let’s see what they were capable of.
“Duusu, Spread my Feathers”
Authors note: hey i hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. a few people have been asking me about adding them to my taglist and being honest i am not sure of how to do that. i am still very new with tumblr, but once i finally stop being dumb i'll be sure to do that. i hope you will stick around to the rest of the story. stay save.
#maribat#timari#timinette#marinette dupain cheng#nathaniel kurtzberg#ml duusu#duusu#miraculous ladybug#peacock miraculous#miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir
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Okay it seems like they’re gone for the time being so 👀
Part 2&3 of Sander in NYC ‘verse ⬇️
The clock strikes midnight on his bedside table while Robbe is stretched on his bed, head propped on his hand as he’s staring at his computer screen, weariness coursing through his body. He stifles a big yawn and tries to blink the sleep away, but it doesn’t do much to erase the feeling of what seems to be yet another longest day he’s had. Wiggling his butt to find a more comfortable position, he reaches for his phone and opens instagram to kill time. After scrolling for a few minutes he gives up, the app failing to distract him from his heavy thoughts and only making him more irritated in the process.
He tosses the phone on the mattress with frustration, sighing deeply. Staring mindlessly at the ceiling doesn’t make the clock tick any faster so he allows himself to close his eyes.
Just for a little, just for a moment. Long enough so he can pretend he can feel a dip in the mattress and that there’s a certain someone lying by his side, only mere millimeters separating their bodies instead of 5,870 kilometers.
In the end, it makes him feel even worse than he has the whole day. Because there is no one next to him when his fingers venture out tentatively, grazing the sheets on the side of the bed that has been Sander’s since that November night.
The memory makes him smile a little, albeit involuntarily. But how can he not when he remembers the boy’s pouty face, petulance in his voice when he refused to sleep on the left side, stubborn like a bratty five-year-old, and Robbe would have laughed at his expression if he hadn’t been gazing at him like a fool in love the entire night. So he of course granted him HIS own preferred side, getting an abundance of kisses all over his face in gratitude and tickles that almost woke the whole house up.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Not then, and not many times later. What’s the point of choosing sides when most of the time they would sleep on each other’s chest anyway, head tucked in the crook of the other’s neck, nose squished into the underside of the jaw despite the tickling sensation of barely there stubble? Or, during other nights, curled into each other in spooning position, no space between them.
The incoming messenger call rudely disrupts his musings, preventing him from almost falling asleep, and he pushes himself up a bit and scrubs his face, fingers running quickly through his hair to make it look at least a little more presentable.
The face that greets him after he answers the call makes his eyes sting but he blames it on exhaustion.
“Hey, cutie.”
Beautiful. He looks so beautiful. Hair in disarray, cheeks rosy and he’s positively glowing, grinning at him with the same adoration and love he always has and Robbe’s heart is bursting with how much it hurts not to be able to cup his cheek right now.
They haven’t talked since last Thursday, both of them so busy with college work. The fact that there are 6 hours between them isn’t exactly helping. They have been messaging back and forth a lot, but it wasn’t the same.
Lately, Robbe has been feeling like a crucial part of him was ripped off and boarded the plane to New York along with Sander. It’s been a struggle without him here and not letting Sander notice how much he's hurting has been a struggle on its own.
“You’re okay?”
Robbe must’ve been staring without a word for longer than he thought because when he focuses properly he notices a small frown on Sander’s forehead.
He plasters a fake smile on his face. “Yeah! Sorry, just tired.”
He shrugs in hopes it will help to sell his cheeriness better, but the way Sander regards him with concern makes him doubt it.
“Robbe…”
Cutting him off quickly, he starts rambling. “So how was that school trip yesterday, huh? Still not bored of MoMA? I mean, you’ve been there like a hundred times by now,” Robbe ends on a teasing note, eyebrows wiggling for a better effect, anything to not let him notice he’s not okay.
It works, Sander’s face partially offended, partially scandalized at such outrageous suggestion, and he breathes out with relief.
“Excuse me, skater boy, some of us have enough taste to appreciate modern art for its greatness-”
“Yeah, art nerds.”
Sander’s jaw drops comically at his triumphant expression. “Oh my god, you’re such a brat!” He shakes his head in faux-disapproval, but the smile doesn’t disappear from his eyes as he easily gets into their usual banter. “Wish I was there to snog you into submission,” he adds, chuckling, unaware of the turmoil inside Robbe, who’s trying to hold on for dear life, blinking the tears away.
This time though, his smile fails to be convincing enough. Sander’s laughter dies out, his eyes searching Robbe’s for answers.
“Baby, what’s going on?”
Robbe squeezes his lips together to keep the emotions at bay and lowers his eyes so Sander couldn’t read him like an open book. He squirms on the bed, trying to give himself time so make sure his voice won’t quiver and that he can sell this thing.
“Nothing.”
“But that’s not true, I can see that.” He’s speaking so gentle, so soothingly.
It doesn’t make him raise his head, eyes still glued to the mattress as he’s twisting his fingers hoping Sander will just let it go.
Cause he doesn’t want him to know. That he’s a mess. That he’s not doing that good.
He doesn’t need to know he’s been watching his wandelingen videos on repeat. That he misses him so much he created a TikTok account to ‘stalk’ his new classmates accounts to catch a glimpse of him laughing and having fun when they’re hanging out, having picnics in Central Park despite low temperatures or drinking coffee and acting like dumbasses at Union Square.
He doesn’t need to know the reality hit Robbe hard and that he’s not the best at coping.
That he’s anxious because the texts between them aren’t as frequent as they used to be in the beginning.
That he had a serious fallout with Jens after already losing touch with Moyo and Aaron.
That he feels lonely.
And that’s missing him like a limb.
He doesn’t want him to know because Sander’s going to worry about him and that’s not why he went away to New York for five months. Correction, six months.
Yeah, that lovely update didn’t exactly make his mood lift when he found out a week ago about Sander having to extend his stay to be able to participate in the February art show his school holds.
There’s still three and a half months before he can bury his face in the crook of his neck and taste his lips. Touch is Robbe's love language so to say he misses the way Sander's hands feel on him would be an understatement of the year. And they both know by now Sander’s not coming back for Christmas despite his promise he’ll try.
“Please talk to me, please, baby.”
One shaky breath after another and Robbe feels wetness on his cheeks, mortification filing him when he realizes it’s tears, and Sander now has a clear view of the situation.
Still, he tries to deflect one more time, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve surreptitiously.
“It’s nothing, really… I’m okay, just miss you.” Another unconvincing smile.
He knows Sander is watching him like a hawk, confused and worried, he can feel it without even lifting his eyes to the screen. When he peaks just for a moment, he sees the desperate look on his face.
“I miss you too, so much, you have no idea,” he pauses, shifting closer to the screen like he wants to physically be closer to him, somehow. “But I know that’s not all, so please tell me what’s wrong so I can help you. Did something happen? Is your mom okay?”
Robbe nods because thankfully, everything has been going smoothly in that area. His mom’s been doing better than he could have hoped for, actually.
“Then what is it?” he keeps pressing, stubbornly, adamant to figure it out, but Robbe really doesn’t feel like talking about it.
“Look, it’s not a big deal, I just had a rough few days, okay? Can we talk about something else?” he pleads, but to no avail.
“No, we can’t because I don’t understand why you don’t want me to help you, Robbe.”
There’s a hint of annoyance in his voice, the confusion getting to him, and Robbe feels even worse, curling a little into himself.
“I just- I don’t wanna bother you-”
“What?” Sander sounds stunned. “Bother me- what the hell?”
“I just want you to have fun there, I’m gonna be fine.”
When Robbe glances back at the screen, he’s met with Sander’s eyes boring holes into him, quietly assessing him, and he knows it’s far from over.
But he’s just so tired. With this week, and his school work, with his emotional state and lonely nights. He’s just really tired.
On the screen, Sander sighs, scrubbing his face with his hand, his silver ring glinting in the computer light. A while passes before he finally speaks, quietly, looking back at him.
“You know, I feel like you think our skype calls are like chores for me that I keep in my calendar and can’t wait to tick off and be done with.”
Robbe opens his mouth, but no words come out, his sleep-fogged brain taking its time to sort through Sander’s word.
“Wow, you really think that?” Robbe hates himself for the hurt lacing Sander’s words. “You really think I don’t miss you? That I don’t count days until I can see you again for real, are you serious, Robbe?”
“Don’t get mad at me,” he asks in a small voice, biting his lip to keep it from wobbling.
“I’m not-”, Sander cuts off, lacing his fingers on the back of his lowered head, clearly frustrated and at loss of what to say next. “I just thought we were honest with each other, that we were communicating.”
The comment stings, even if it wasn’t meant to, and Robbe swallows the bile rising in his throat. Sander’s disappointed, he can see that, but he’s honestly not in the right state of mind right now for long talks about his feelings and insecurities.
“I should go.”
Sander's head shots right up at that. "Robbe, wait-"
"Don't worry about me." He sends him a forced smile before shutting his laptop and pushing it away from himself, breathing shakily as he hides his face in his hands.
Several notifications ping on his phone, but he ignores them all, knowing they're from Sander.
It's funny how this morning he thought he couldn't feel worse.
***
Friday 6:20 pm EST from Sander
Please pick up so we can talk
Or text me
Robbe?
I'm so worried
Friday 6:45 pm EST from Sander
I love you okay? ❤
Friday 8:03 pm EST from Sander
It's 2 am at yours so I hope you're asleep but I just need you to know that I love you and whatever it is you're going through we'll deal with it together okay?
Friday 8:07 pm EST from Sander
I think about you everyday and I miss you everyday
And it doesn't matter my trip here was supposed to be fun or whatever
I'm still your boyfriend and me being away doesn't change the fact that I want to be there for you
You should know that by now
You're not some kind of duty for me, it breaks my heart you'd think that
Your problems matter to me
I'm here, always, remember?
Please text me when you wake up ❤
Ik zie u graag Robin ❤❤❤😘
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Helios and Morpheus
A/N: Here is my part of our collaboration for the Durin’s Day Gift Exchange for @linane-art ! Thank you for brainstorming with me and being so supportive and patient. You made this even more exciting than I thought it would be, and let me tell YOU, I was thrilled about it all in the first place. I hope you enjoy it. I am so excited to share it! :)
This is somewhat loosely based on Greek Mythology, AKA it’s an Alternate Universe! Rated Gen. Get ready for some LONGING and some FLUFF.
LOOOOOKKKKKKKK AT @linane-art ‘s ARTTTT LOOOOOK AT THE PERFECT BOYSSS!!!! Thank you for giving us SUCH gorgeous works.
The link for Fili is HERE!! And Kili is HERE!! Please go give @linane-art some love!!!!!!
Helios and Morpheus
Tell us of the impossible lovers, O Muse. Those who defied Fates, Furies, and Almighty Zeus, Who found forever hidden in distance between, Paradise more perfect than Elysian serene.
Tell us of Helios, the God of Golden Sun Who rides in his chariot before night’s begun. His radiance shines as he watches and he waits For God of Dreams, Morpheus, to fly from his gates.
Perfumed with his poppies and directives to spare, Roused only by his One with the rays in his hair, Morpheus stars in dreams prophetic and divine, Telling his love in sleep, “You are mine, you’re all mine.”
One alone rules the day as sky’s singular light. Another’s domain lies in the darkness of night. As stubborn as star-crossed, fierce as Cronus, they were, Bridging the cosmos for a love that was most sure.
Book I
To those below and above, he was known as Morpheus. To those around him, however- to his parents and his brothers, the Oneiroi- he was Kíli. To himself, he was a dreamer.
One could suppose that’s how it all began.
From very early on in his eternal life, he was known around the cosmos for his talent of deceit. But the true-hearted Kíli only deluded with his physical appearance. With a bit of concentration and a blink of time, he could shift from his godlike form into any other imaginable. Those below often said that no other was more skilled than he in representing the gait, the features and the speech of men, but little did they realize, Kíli could manifest as much more. Truthfully, he just thought the world of men had very tiny imaginations, even in their dreams.
And so, his talents were put to use. Zeus commended him and dubbed him the leader of the dream makers, called the Oneiroi. He was to spend his nights flying through the world of men, delivering messages from the gods to their pupils through their dreams. Instead of using his skills for amusement, for playing pretend and hiding from his brothers, Kíli- Morpheus- would exhaust himself and his power by playing messenger boy for the King of the Gods.
Still, Kíli learned to have his fun.
You see, though Kíli was explicitly told what message to send to whom, the how was entirely up to him. He could morph into a towering cyclops and poke the belly of his recipient until he listened. He could make a pit stop in the sweetest dream of the prettiest semi-divine woman and make her fall in love with him just before night’s end. He could even visit Hades to make ghost children into brave soldiers, or Hephestus to take a lesson in sword forging. As long as he delivered his messages on time, he had the power to do whatever he wanted.
But it all ended with the rosy-fingered dawn.
Every night had its end. For others, that was a hopeful thought, even a prophetic one, but for Kíli, it just meant he’s run out of time. His freedom was stripped away by the clouds painted orange. For a long while, some thousands of years, he stomped back through his gates like a tantrum struck child, furious at his forced time-out. He’d grunt at the guards and leap over the Rivers of Forgetfulness and Oblivion, and lock himself in his cave to sleep among the poppy seeds until he received the orders for his next outing.
In the recent millennia, however, he’d been risking everything to hide behind the lock of his ivory gate and watch the black night sky lift and glow indigo, then violet. He’d wait to see the golden chariot cross the cosmos, pulling aside the curtain of night to reveal the bright blue day behind it. He’d heard the stories all his life. He knew what happened in the universe that took his time away from him and turned it into day. But he only recently saw the phenomenon for himself and since then, he never wanted to miss the show.
It wasn’t the glittering coat or glistening mane of the thundering horse that he was interested in. It was the one inside the solid gold chariot that first caught his eye. It was Helios, God of Sun, he wanted to watch because, though he was almost blinded by the sunny halo every morning, Kíli was sure Helios was smiling at him.
Book II
Helios was happy. Though others often wondered how he could be.
Those above pitied him for his status. It was unjust for the God of Sun- the deity of something as important as creation, light, and life- to be considered a minor god. He would never see the world below from the peak of Mount Olympus. He couldn’t watch the measly humans through the silver, puffy clouds. Sure, he had his own clouds to peer through way up there on his own throne, but they weren’t as pretty as the ones that surrounded Mount Olympus. Not at all. Helios only had regular clouds. What a shame.
It may have been that those below pitied him even more than the Olympians. Helios was alone. Yes, he had power, eternal youth and breathtaking beauty, but he’d never share any of it with anyone. How sad! To spend the light of day watching the world below, only to be so distant from it. Poor, lonely Helios.
Solitary and depressed, but never forgotten. For who could forget the sun?
In return for his service and out of their pity, the gods above gave him the most beautiful land to shine on and watch over. Artemis kept her trees tall and her meadows vast so long as Helios kept them green. Demeter graced the farmlands, encouraging crops to grow up to the light of his rays. Even Poseidon, grateful for the glimmer of warmth Helios left on his sea, returned the favor and controlled his waves whenever the halo of sun crossed the sky at day’s end. And sometimes, Zeus would throw some thunderbolts and give Helios a day of rest when he especially deserved it after weeks and weeks of impeccable radiation.
Helios was the only being who couldn’t understand the world’s view of him. Between those generous gifts from the higher gods and the worship and prayers from the humans below, how could Helios ever be unhappy? In his opinion, he had it made.
Because he was a minor god, he didn’t have to deal with the problems of Olympus. He was glad the fabricated kidnappings, adulterous adventures, and cannibal snacking rituals were kept way over there on that mountain and his warm, serene hours were spent way over here on his very own throne. He shined his brightest on his own.
Still, that didn’t mean he disliked watching the humans from afar. On the contrary, he adored them.
He smiled down on them as they wept in his name. He peeked through the dreary, grey clouds and gave them warmth as they built his temples stone by stone. Attentively, he watched as they danced and sang for him, begged him for his blessings and thanked him for his creation. In their words, he was gracious. He brought joy to mortals. Again, their words, not his.
He was given all this simply for being beautiful. He was pure light. He ruled the sky for thousands of years and was grateful, never wanting any change.
Then, as randomly as an autumn leaf falls to the ground, his lands brought him something new. Or rather, someone. As Helios crossed the sky and brought the dawn, he looked down on his endless estate and spotted this someone watching him. It was not a farmer, nor a thief or human forced to wake before the day.
Instead, it was clear this Dark One enjoyed the night. He stood unshrinking from the black sky and smiled at Helios, clearing any blame for his bringing the sun. This someone, this Dark One was happy to make his sacrifice to Helios- a ritual the Sun God had never enjoyed until now. Now, it was a gift.
Never in his eternal life had Helios pulled on his steed’s reins to slow the sunrise. It wouldn’t work. His chariot would plow on with its duty with time warping speed, never paying a hair’s attention to the Dark One in the shadows. There was no time. Dawn must come.
With that, Helios crossed the sky, eventually losing sight of his someone below. When he leapt from the gold to gold, from the chariot to his throne, he searched for the Dark One, but his own light stole the shadows and his someone was nowhere to be found. His passing eras slowed to hours. During the time of his reign, he watched the humans find Aphrodite, Hestia, and Hera and when the night came, he himself found his Dark One waiting for him every morning.
Book III
Morpheus had the ability to enter the dreams of any and all. He could punish the dastardly with nightmares so garish and haunting, his victims would change their ways in the morning. Or he could gift the selfless with visions of peace and profit, the lonely with companionship, or the sick with health. Over the span of his existence, he’d delivered messages and prophecies to billions- humans and gods alike.
Tartarus, he could even sneak into Zues’ dreams and feel the power of the King’s Thunder if he felt like it. But Kíli valued his immortality too much for such a thing.
Bottom line: Kíli could visit all who dreamed. Which was everyone. Or so he thought.
It was really just his luck that the one he so wanted to meet- and even eavesdrop on if Kíli was honest- was out of his reach. Contrary to popular belief, the sun never slept and neither did the god who powered it.
He didn’t understand why. What did Helios have to do during the night? Where did the Sun God even go when darkness came? Wasn’t there time for the Golden One to rest?
Kíli was determined to find out.
When darkness came on the Winter Solstice, the longest night, Kíli flew as fast as he could to the dreamers through the lower lands. He delivered a curse here, and a revelation there. Then, dressed in his best disguises, he climbed up to Mount Olympus to greet the two gods he was meant to visit. His foretellings were clear and concise. There was no time for any mix ups or confusions which, despite Kíli’s best intentions, were a common occurrence with drowsy recipients.
After all his duties were finished, he tumbled down to his gate with time to spare. There, hanging onto the delicately etched ivory pillars, he waited alone. The night hours he so treasured ticked slowly past- slower than ever before. More than once he leapt from the ground, wings waving and flapping when he was sure he saw a speck of light coming from the east. But he realized his eyes were only playing tricks on him in his anticipation, and eventual boredom.
Still, he didn’t leave his post.
The sky remained dark for so long, Kíli was sure he’d gone blind trying to make the smallest stars into the golden halo he longed to see. He wondered why nothing was happening, why the blanket above wasn’t lifting to indigo, then violet in preparation for Helios. Had something happened to the Golden One?
He panicked.
It was unbelievable.
For ages, Kíli wished for eternal night and cursed the morning Sun, and now all he wished for was the scalding rays to burn his skin. He’d welcome such a painful end if he could see the Sun God one last time.
Then, there was light.
Real light, nothing Kíli’s eyes or drowsy mind could create. This was it.
His waving wings let him hover just above the ground, his bare toes dipping into the tall grass. He had to be careful, he had to time it right if he wanted a chance to speak to Helios as he crossed the sky and brought the dawn. If his actions weren’t perfect, his flesh would sizzle and leave his bones unsheltered to melt in a matter of seconds. Helios’ light was his end. So he must stay in the shadows.
After such darkness, Kíli could only see a white blur crossing the sky, but after years and years of watching the sunrise, he knew well how Helios’ shining steed cut through the night like a rapier. He raced up to meet it, his every muscle jolting in tandem to flap his wings with enough speed and precision to shoot him to a height that took his breath from his body. There, on the level, he waited.
That was his mistake.
The chariot barreled toward him with such graceful speed, its very own wind left Kíli reeling through the air.
“What are you doing?” He heard.
He found his balance and his rhythm and darted from the heat on his back. It singed the very tip of his wing, but with the breeze of his flight, the fire and pain didn’t travel upwards. So he flew on, grabbing hold of the chariot’s edge.
“No!”
Kíli realized, but it was too late. Of course the gold of the chariot would be as blazing as an open flame. He hissed in pain, but flew on until he matched Helios in his flight.
He called the Sun God’s name, letting it grace his lips for the first time. “Helios!”
“Are you daft?” Helios cried, yanking on his reins with a force that turned his knuckles white, but the horse didn’t slow.
“I’m Morpheus!”
Helios laughed. His eyes sparkled, glittering like the brightest stars in the sky, like the loudest, most dazzling thunderbolt Zues ever threw had been captured inside the golden head of this god.
Kíli knew Helios was beautiful. He knew of the creamy skin, the aureate halo, and the smile as curved and irresistible as cumulus clouds. But he didn’t know of the blue eyes. They struck him and slowed him down.
Still, before he burned, before he circled back and raced to his gates, flying through without a look back, he heard Helios yell something to him. He saw Helios smile at him, as he’d seen every morning for hundreds of years. But this time, his Sun was close enough to touch.
Book IV
Helios’ days were all the same. It was clockwork and routine- the paths he took to and from the farthest corners of Poseidon's ocean, how long the trek took, when and where he’d begin and end. He knew what he’d see along the way. There were never any surprises because nothing was ever different.
At least that was the case until Morpheus loomed by his gate for the first time. His first appearance had been unusual and indeed gave Helios pause at first, but even that had become something expected after thousands of years of his Dark One’s presence.
Morpheus flying to his chariot before dawn, however, that was unexpected. A surprise. Even a fright to Helios that jarred him like nothing else he’d ever experienced. It left him with so many questions. Helios wasn’t used to having any such thing. He was the Sun. He had all the answers. He was the steadiest thing in the cosmos. He was arguably the most dependable god.
But now that Morpheus had flown to him, Helios was unsure. He sat in his throne and glowed dimly over the day, diverting most of his energy to all the questions now crowding his headspace.
Why, he asked.
He’d spent his eternity thus far watching all beings under his light. They were predictable. He was never surprised by their actions. And yet, Morpheus, God of Dreams, left him flabbergasted without a single answer as to why he’d risk his life to speak to a god in the opposite domain. What was the point? What did he want to say? Wasn’t he terrified?
But Helios’ most important question was: Had Morpheus heard him?
He hoped so. For when he wasn’t wondering and pondering, Helios was dreaming. Well, he guessed he was dreaming. He’d heard his humans talk about it in his temples, running to his altar after a night of his blessing their sleep and revealing himself to them in a vision. It was as if they’d truly seen the god, Helios, and had even spoken to him, though it was obvious such a thing was impossible. Helios never strayed from his post.
But he dreamed on with his eyes open and his rays shining. Just before his mind’s eyes were wings twice the size of Morpheus’ body and black as the fur of Cerberus. He even went inside his fantasy and touched the wings with his fingertips, leaving them with what he hoped was a pleasant warmth. As his dream Morpheus leaned into his touch, even closed his eyes to it, Helios’ halo shone ever brighter to the lands below.
Then, as if clouds filled the sky, more questions would clog Helios’ mind and his rays would dim as he asked himself why.
So the day went on, sunlight ebbing and flowing until his steed grew agitated. Sparkling hooves stomped into the ground, the glistening tail swished and the impatient head bobbed, strong neck arching tight in anticipation. Dusk was approaching, as was Helios’ long ride. But even after his exhausting day, he leapt into his chariot, ready to work through until dawn when he’d see his Dark One again.
“Come to me tomorrow,” he’d said.
He hoped it with every glittering speck of himself.
The reflection of his chariot shimmered in the ocean below as he passed through the sky. His steed took him past mount Olympus and over the thatched roofs of Corinth, then Larissa. He passed wide meadows and gentle creeks, waiting patiently for the chance to fly over Morpheus’ gates. Though the Dream World spanned much of the Underworld, Helios knew exactly where the horn entrance would appear at the break of dawn. He knew where Morpheus would be.
Morpheus.
It left the great Sun God trembling, for he was aware of the danger his Dark One faced. If all didn’t unfold perfectly, Morpheus would be no more. And it would be Helios’ fault. Even in all his uncertainty, he was sure of that.
Leaning over the side of his chariot, Helios kept his eyes glued to the ground. He stayed low, remained as dim and cool as he could without giving himself a mortal chill. He waited. All things familiar glowed underneath him until the horn gates of Morpheus’ Dream World glittered in his rays. But Morpheus wasn’t leaning on the post. Instead, he was already flying through the air to meet the chariot. Helios’ gut sunk. His Dark One was wasting his energy. He should have waited!
It was too late now.
As Helios’ golden horse loped on, quickly surpassing Morpheus’ own swift speed, Helios reached out with a cool hand and dragged his Dark One safely into the seat of his chariot. Then he slid to the opposite side, pulling his limbs as far from Morpheus as the chariot allowed.
The two gods stared at each other. Morpheus was squinting at him, even in Helios’ dim light.
“You told me to come back to you,” Morpheus said. “You told me to return at dawn.”
“Yes,” Helios said.
Morpheus scooted closer to him, moving his hand to the back ledge of the chariot to pull himself along. “Why-”
“Don’t!” Helios cried, dragging his Dark One’s hands into his own. “Don’t touch the chariot. It will burn you.”
Morpheus latched onto him. “But you’re not burning me. How is that?”
“It’s only dawn. My rays aren’t as powerful now.”
Morpheus was watching him through narrowed eyes, taking in his every feature as if he’d never seen another being before. Like he’d only ever dreamed them, and never actually saw or touched. It took every bit of Helios’ power not to shrink from his gaze. No one had ever looked so closely at the sun.
Morpheus reached for him and ran his icy fingers around Helios’ ear, tucking his shining hair around it. “You’re so warm.”
“Sorry.”
“No,” Morpheus was quick to say. “It’s pleasant. You feel wonderful.”
Just below them was the shore of the western ocean. Dawn would soon pass into full morning. They didn’t have much time.
“Why did you come? It was dangerous for you,” Helios said. He shifted in his seat to shelter Morpheus from the light creeping up to his back. They were close now, closer than any two opposing gods had ever been.
“I’ve spent so long in the shadows,” Morpheus said. “I wanted to feel your light.”
Helios grinned. Everyone in the cosmos wanted to feel the light of the sun. But he’d keep himself from all the world, he’d let it all freeze over if it meant he could safely shine on his Dark One for the rest of his eternity. Just for a moment, he leaned closer to imagine what it would feel like.
“I wanted to see you, but you don’t sleep!” Morpheus said, bumping the tip of his nose to Helios’ cheek. He jerked away and hissed, rubbing his sizzling face. “You heat up quick,” he laughed.
“You must leave,” Helios said with a wince. “I can’t slow the dawn.”
“I know. But here, take this.” Morpheus reached to the nape of his neck and untied the sticky stem of a single poppy from his hair. He placed it in Helios’ hand and folded his fingers around it. “Tomorrow when the moon rises, I want you to smell this. It’s one of mine. Bring it up to your nose and take a deep breath. Think of me and I will come to you in your dreams.”
“I’ve never dreamt anything before. I’ve never even slept.”
Morpheus reached for him, but stopped himself before he could touch Helios’ scalding skin. He closed his eyes to the blinding shine. “Then I’ll fly to your chariot every day at dawn.”
“No. It’s not safe for you.” The poppy was wilting in Helios’ hand without its maker. “I’ll do as you said. As long as you will come to me.”
“I swear it. There’s no place else I’d rather be.” One eye creaked open and Morpheus smiled before it clamped shut again. “You sure are bright.”
“You must go.”
His black wings rose above the chariot and opened like wide wooden doors before Morpheus blindly leapt from Helios’ side and dove to his gates. There, he disappeared before Helios’ own rays could burn his flesh.
As the Sun God was delivered to his throne, he held tight to his poppy and dreamed with his eyes open about what the night would bring.
Book V
It was rumored Morpheus’ wings had the strength of a thousand soldiers. Though the feathers were lush and silky, the arching bones crowning the tops- extensions of his own spine- were not to be trifled with. How else would he fly through the cosmos from city to city and even to Mount Olympus to deliver himself to the dreams of his recipients? The wings were so robust, so legendary, and yet his flight was as silent as an owl’s, for what good were they if they woke his dreamers?
Tonight, however, his wings were still. He had his scroll, his list of messages to deliver and beings to visit, but instead of rushing out of his gates to tend to his duties, he stood just past the lock to his Dream World. For the first time in his endless existence, he didn’t know where to go.
His most important dreamer didn’t have a regular resting place. As far as Kíli knew, Helios traveled in his chariot all through the night, distributing his light around the universe. It would be impossible to pinpoint his exact location, never mind catch up with the soaring chariot. The only thing Kíli could do was wait to be summoned.
Still, Kíli couldn’t even be sure Helios would be able to dream, or even sleep for that matter. His poppies worked wonders on ailing humans, but he’d never offered one to a god before. It was forbidden by Zues. As was his and Helios’ affair. He knew they were treading a very dangerous path.
Usually, Kíli would be terrified of Zues. He would hide in the shadows of his Dream World, only emerging from it to take orders from the King of the Gods. He’d take his notes with his head down and wings wilted, never quite looking the Maker of Thunder in the eye. Every interaction made him quiver down to his soles.
Now, however, with Helios in his sights, he wasn’t scared. It was as if he had a secret weapon that left him powerful and fearless against anyone who stood in the way of him finding his very own Sun. Nothing mattered beyond his One who glowed and lit up the sky, bringing hope to all in his domain. Kíli felt that now.
So he stood at his gates, daring Zues to threaten him or his love and hoping with every inch of himself that his poppy would work. He waited for Helios’ call.
He closed his eyes to listen.
The wind rustled in the grass and tickled his feet. A cat yowled in the dark. The warm stuffy silence of night muddled his mind.
Then all was clear. When he opened his eyes, Helios was in his arms, asleep.
His plan had worked.
As expected, the Sun God was warm. Kíli had felt this kind of residual heat before when he entered the dreams of sleeping humans who were wrapped up in too many quilts during the night. However, this kind of warmth wasn’t so oppressive. Instead, it was a balmy comfort that washed over his lap and up his arms. Kíli, the God of Dreams who only came out at night, was feeling the Sun for the first time.
Meanwhile, Helios, who never slept and never left his post, conquered his fears and did so for Kíli. He was peaceful. The poppy had worked and it had given him rest. That knowledge only added to the rush Kíli was feeling in his chest as he pulled Helios closer, protecting him, lest he regret placing his trust in his Dark One.
Though Helios was not shining, not even glowing, Kíli was still stunned by his beauty. It wasn’t dull or dimmed in the night, but magnified. This close and without his rays, Kíli could see his true beauty- the lines in his lips from his own heat and those around his eyes left by his gleaming grin. Even now, in sleep, Helios smiled and Kíli didn’t miss the dimples in his cheeks and how the left one was deep enough to cradle the tip of his forefinger.
Kíli took this chance to touch the god, not to take advantage of him, but to appreciate him while there was time to be had, while he was unwatched. He ran his fingers through the silky golden hair, down the strong neck and over the proud, smooth shoulders. It electrified him like the night air never could. Then, after what felt like hours of staring and contemplation, Kíli even dared to kiss his Sun’s head. His lips lingered over the warm skin as he held Helios tight to his chest.
With that, Helios sighed. “Where am I?” he asked, working to focus his gaze on the one above him.
“You are in the arms of Morpheus,” Kíli said, smiling down on him. “Which is to say, you are asleep.”
“Morpheus.” Helios wriggled closer, wrapping his arms around any part of Kíli he could reach. “If this is a dream, then let it never end. There’s nowhere else I wish to be.”
Kíli hummed. “You’ve come over to the dark side then, hm?”
“If that’s where you are, yes. I’ll follow you there.”
Like most things in the world of the gods, Kíli’s flowers affected all beings differently. He was happy enough that Helios had fallen asleep at all, so he couldn’t blame the virgin dreamer for his honeyed state. If Kíli was honest with himself, he didn’t at all mind his Sun’s sweet words, though he knew they were coaxed out by the power of his poppy.
Helios sighed again. “I’d follow you anywhere.”
“You’re quite the romantic in your dreams,” Kíli said.
Helios grinned. It was bright enough to make Kíli’s heart soar, but not to blind him as it had when they shared the sky.
“Have I won you over, then?” Helios asked.
“Do you think I’d risk my life just to speak with you if you hadn’t already?”
“Twice!” Helios said with a wagging finger. “You did it twice.”
“Yes, I did. And I’ll do it again every morning hence if it will allow me the privilege of holding you again.”
The Sun God let his head flop on Kíli’s arm. “Now who’s playing the romantic?”
Kíli would do anything to see those blue eyes more clearly, but as Helios talked on, his lids fluttered shut, lashes feathering against his cheeks.
“I must have- had too much of the poppy. I did as you said, but the first… it didn’t do anything. I needed to see you, so I...” He laughed. “And now I can hardly keep my eyes open.”
Kíli caressed his cheek. “It’s all right. You can relax, I’ll be here.”
Immediately, the Sun turned to sand in Kíli’s arms, burying his forehead in his Dark One’s chest. Again, Kíli felt immeasurable pride. One of the most important beings in the cosmos allowed himself to be cradled and cared for by him. It made him return to his earlier wishes of wanting the night to last forever.
“Morpheus-”
“Call me Kíli.” He smoothed the line between Helios’ brows with his thumb as he explained, “It’s the name my mother gave me. Only when Zues gave me the Oneiroi, did he give me the name Morpheus as well.”
“But that’s not who you are.”
“No.”
Helios said his name. His real name. A lazy tongue flicked its way through the consonants and soft lips curled around the sounds with a smile. Then Helios said it again. “Kíli.” He leaned into Kíli’s night-cool touch that grazed the rounds of his golden cheeks and the cliffs of his thick brow. It rumpled as he said, “I don’t remember a time when I didn’t empower the sun. I’ve always been in the sky. Alone.”
“Not anymore,” Kíli said.
Helios hummed and sighed and sank further into Kíli’s arms as if the disease of his loneliness- an ailment he never knew he had- was cured irrevocably. “Kíli. If you are Kíli, then I must be someone as well. Give me a name, Kíli.”
“Your name is perfect just the way it is.”
He opened his eyes. “But it wasn’t given to me by anyone who matters.” For the first time, Helios reached up to Kíli and stroked his cheek. The touch was long overdue, but Kíli could forgive it because of the tenderness it evoked. He leaned into it, distantly listening as Helios continued. “Call me Fíli. Similar and yet opposite, just as we ourselves are. I’ll be your Fíli.”
Kíli snorted. “I should call you ‘Silly’ instead-”
He squeezed Kíli’s arm and chuckled. “Just give me this.”
Kíli wasn’t in a state to deny him anything. He’d fallen too far too quickly for such things. So he nodded.
“Will you give me something else?”
“Anything.”
Ever so gently, Helios- Fíli- led Kíli’s lips down to his own. Kíli gave him his kiss. In one moment everything between them changed. The cosmos parted and opened the way to a new universe of their own, one in which they could live in harmony and without fear, pain, or isolation. After millenia of giving- Fíli giving life and Kíli giving fantasy- they together stole it all for themselves. They gave each other the impossible.
But Kíli felt himself begin to fade.
Fíli held onto him like a stubborn serpent.
“Don’t leave me,” Fíli said against his lips.
“I won’t. It’s you who are leaving me.”
“No.”
Kíli chuckled and his cool air blew over Fíli’s face, making him shiver. “It’s not your fault. You’re waking up.”
“Stop me.”
“I can’t. Not even you can slow the dawn. But we have forever now, Fíli.”
Fíli kissed him again. Even on the edge of his dream, the sun inside him was rising, leaving his flesh hot in Kíli’s arms. He would be untouchable in a matter of minutes.
“Will you come to me again?”
“Every night,” Kíli assured, risking his fingers to feel Fíli’s smoldering cheek once more. “And I will wait at my gates for you every morning.”
“Not for too long, Kíli. I won’t have you scorching your wings again.”
“You’re starting to sound more like yourself,” Kíli said with a scoff.
Fíli smiled. “I’m still your Fíli. And there’s still nowhere else I’d rather be than here in your arms. But you’re right, we both must go.”
Yet Fíli’s only movement was to kiss his Dark One again. Then he watched until Kíli was a blur in the darkness.
Book VI
When Fíli opened his eyes, he was in his chariot. From the look of the waving blue mountains ahead, he could tell his nightly quest was about halfway through, meaning his trusted steed hadn’t even noticed his mind’s absence. After all, the horse knew the route as well as he did. It was an encouraging display that simultaneously left him bitter with disappointment. While it was made clear he’d be able to remain in Kíli’s Dream World for longer nights in the future, it only reminded him how short tonight’s visit had been.
He didn’t want to wait- not for the day to pass or even the night hours to fade before he could see his Dark One again from high above. But alas, even Zues himself suffered from such impatience for not even the King of the Gods could accelerate time.
What did comfort Fíli, however, was Kíli’s love of the night. Though Fíli was bored by its boring darkness, his love- yes, his love- relished his freedom under the starry sky. It was his time to thrive. Fíli could imagine him, dream of him flying through the cosmos as he leaned back in the seat of his chariot. Maybe one night, the two would cross paths, he thought.
But when he wriggled down into his seat, something crunched. It set off a familiar smell. He reached up, startled to feel something in his own hair, and gently pulled at not one, but three poppies that were neatly tied and tangled together. Kíli must have left them in his golden waves just before he faded away from the dream. Rolling the stems in his fingers, Fíli smiled, bringing too high a dawn for the middle of the night. But he couldn’t help it. These were a promise from Kíli for more nights like this one in a universe of their own.
They’d make a life for themselves in the short hours before dawn. Helios and Morpheus, known to only themselves as Fíli and Kíli, would love for eternity.
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Archangels sneak peak chapter 25 - Without shedding of blood is no remission
Betty knew her husband needed his space, but she was just worried.
So she opened the door.
He was kneeling in front of the bed and praying. But it seemed more intense then other times. He waved himself back and forth and she heard his intense murmur.
She stepped closer just to see if he's alright. Gladly – or unfortunately – he didn't noticed her.
She watched him for a moment, and felt her heart clenched by every second that past. He rested his forehead on his folded hands, praying and pleading in agony. Words she have read a couple times in the bible.
But the most heartwrenching was that it wasn't just a prayer. It was a desperate plea to forgive him, his contrition and penance for sins he didn't even commit. And she was sure, god saw it... god had to see it because, because he always what within our hear and she knows that her husband was nothing but good, just and gracious.
On an instinct she knelt beside him and folded her hands to a prayer to join him. Praying with the same desperation as he did. But pleading for different things.
She thought if it was just a despondent trial to get closer to her husband, because she felt him slipping away further and further. There was nothing that could stop it.
But actually, it wasn't blaspheme, it was honest. She felt tremendous and generous pain for her husband and just pleaded for his healing.
She prayed that God would give her the power and ability to show him what she sees in him, and what she was sure god saw in him to. It was a silent moment of communion and somehow even comfort.
Betty heard the words fall from Jugheads lips and couldn't help as tears fell down her cheeks, because every words contained so much despair and pain.
Her tears fell onto the pure white blanket, moistening in with compassion and empathy.
Then she noticed the red besides the rather invisible ones.
She looked up and saw that Jughead was far too gone within his prayer.
“O my God, I cry unto thee with the prodigal: Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. But now, O God, give me true sorrow of heart for my many sins whereby I have grieved thee, and enable me to make a full confession to thy priest, that I may receive perfect remission of them, through thine infinite goodness. Amen. O God, I am very sorry that I have sinned against thee who art so good. Forgive me for Jesus' sake, and I will try to sin no more. Amen. O God, I love thee with my whole heart and above all things and am heartily sorry that I have offended thee. May I never offend thee any more. Oh, may I love thee without ceasing, and make it my delight to do in all things thy most holy will. Amen.”
He murmured over and over again, kissing every pearl of the rosary.
Betty reached for him, tried to stop him gently, but it didn't worked.
“Jug. Please stop you hurt yourself.” She pleaded and tried to grab for his hands.
At that he clenched the rosary even more, waved himself forth and back while murmuring his penance and shaking his head frantically.
O God, I am very sorry that I have sinned against thee who art so good. Forgive me for Jesus' sake, and I will try to sin no more. Amen. O God, I am very sorry that I have sinned against thee who art so good. Forgive me for Jesus' sake, and I will try to sin no more. Amen. “Jug. Jug stop please. Please. You’re bleeding.” She begged him desperately and couldn't the tears from falling.
They mixed with his own on his folded hands.
“He forgives and he loves you. He loves you.” She whispered and thought: Just like I do.
Jughead finally looked up at her, his eyes vulnerable, reflecting the pain and sorrow of his cracked soul, presenting itself in front of her, waiting for punishment and abandons.
“Please Jug, let me help you.” She asked him and noticed that a couple drops of blood had also fell onto his bare feet.
Jughead just shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut.
Betty didn't listen and took his hand in his. But instead of opening them first, she brought them to her lips and placed tiny kisses onto them, praising her devotion and forgiveness to him.
“I don't deserve you.” Jughead whispered quietly, slowly coming to his senses again.
“Yes you do. Let me help you Jug. Please.” She asked again and waited for his answer. A brief moment has passed.
Tears were still shining in his ocean blue eyes, when he finally spoke his permission and surrendered.
Betty stood up and went into the bathroom
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Coming this week on AO3
Until then catch up here
#bughead fic#bughead au#bughead fanfiction#Bughead#Boondock saints inspired au#kinda peaky blinders AU But just slightly#Tommy Shelby and Jughead Jones have just a great dynamic in my head#jughead and sweet pea are twin brothers#Irish Sweet Pea#irish jughead#southside betty#southside jughead#protective jughead jones#journalist Betty#mutual pining#friends to lovers#bystander effect#morality conflicts#grey moral area#religious#Christianity#Coming This Week#chapter twenty five#sneak peek#archangels#ao3#My writing#my wips#betty cooper x jughead jones#betty x jughead
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Painted Flaws - Colossus/Piotr Rasputin x villian!Reader
Part 13
A/N: send an ask if you wanna be added to the taglist! Lmk how you feel about this series!
Summary: You’re a villian with a moral grey area. You meet Piotr at an art exhibit, but both of you are there for completely different reasons. Though the attraction was inevitable, will it be enough? A growing passionate love wrought with secrecy, both of you try to move through this maze. But when the ball drops, what will you choose?
-
The harsh cold air rushes into Piotr’s lungs as he maneuvers his way through the bustling streets.
People with umbrellas and raincoats filled the lively pathway – now turned into a night market of sorts. His own agitation was palpable in the cheery atmosphere as he tried his best to move through the crowd.
Your apartment was right up ahead, but he was later than late. He was the kind of late that you made you think that he wasn’t coming.
And who could blame him? This had been the routine for the past few weeks.
Last-minute cancelled plans due to emergencies – missed called, family issues, got stuck in the office with a buttload of paperwork – and surprisingly, most of the excuses came from him.
It made you feel better.
And yet somehow worse.
Am I not important?
But you knew better than to keep up the charade. This change in pace, this friction between the both of you caused by his ‘’firefighting duties’’ – who was he kidding, he was out there saving the world – it was the perfect scape goat to be used as an excuse for a breakup.
This time though, you sent him the text before he could come up with an excuse –
[Hey. Look, if this thing between us is too much on your plate right now, I’m totally cool with it. Just let me know. You don’t have to make up any more excuses if you don’t really want to see me. I don’t work that way, and it’s a terrible waste of both our times. See you when I see you.] Read 11:27PM
The typing icon danced on your screen on his chat window, but you didn’t want to bother with your feelings. There was too much work to focus on, and you didn’t want to think about him either. You threw your phone onto the bed and let yourself fall onto the pillows next to it.
It was a good few months, with what was the best sex of your life. No man has ever been that good at oral. Sure, some of them say they know their way around, but the way Piotr did it was… peak pleasure. Of course, you didn’t leave him lonely either. You returned the favour almost as well as he did.
He was a great reprise from your life. But you knew from the start that it wasn’t meant to last – even before you knew he was Colossus.
You look out the window as the headlights of the cars passing by cast moving shadows of the window panes onto the walls of your pitch black room – the sound of tires lifting off of the slippery wet tarmac and pattering gravel filtering through into the room.
There’s an urgent knocking at the door that breaks the willowing silence – and you knew just who it was.
When you open the door, he doesn’t even wait for you invite him in, and hurries into the apartment in a frantic move.
‘’Piotr! What are you doing?’’
He was panting, as his chest heaved to catch his breath – no doubt from having had run to your apartment.
Your heart sinks at the sight of him – trying to make things right, trying to make things better. It hurt to know, even moreso, that his benevolent and kind and warm heart could do nothing for you, or the life that you led.
You knew you had to be harsh; it was the only way to keep him safe and away from you.
‘’I am sorry for not being available. I have been busy with my duties and I wanted nothing more than to–‘’
‘’Your duties as an X-Man?’’
Piotr’s eyebrows raise, eyes lowering to the floor.
‘’Please, Y/N – I just wanted it to be normal. I wanted to tell you! I promise,’’ he takes you hand in his hands – almost in a plea for you to hear him out.
You slide your hand away from his, looking away as you make your case.
‘’It wasn’t just that you lied, Piotr… I think I have to be honest with you too.’’
You make sure to look at him as you say the next words – no matter how much it pained you to say them – and you made sure you sounded as nonchalant as you could.
You pinch your forehead, as if deep in thought, then with a deep sigh –
‘’I don’t think I loved you. I thought I did, but I have to be honest. I was lonely, and you were there. You made it too easy for me too.’’
Piotr’s form straightens up, his eyebrows knitted in disbelief.
‘’Surely that is not –‘’
‘’It is. And now that I know you’ve been lying to me, I guess it served me right to ever think I could trust anyone.’’
Your voice almost cracks, but you turn away just as you felt your convictions wavering. Your hands nervously rub the hem of your night dress – hoping and praying to whatever God that Piotr doesn’t resent you for what you were about to do.
Your stomach lurched at the thought of him knowing the real you – he’d have thought you an abomination – and this was miles better in comparison.
It was better this way.
Piotr’s voice, heavy and pronounced, questions you.
‘’But all this to you was just about sex? No. I do not believe that. It is only what you think you needed it to be. You think that if you pretended that it was nothing more, you will be protected,’’ he steps forward, lifting your chin up to him with a finger, ‘’But I know you, Y/N. You want more. And I want more also. I want you. I want us. Whatever is keeping you away from me, I would like to know. We will get through this toget–‘’
You flinch away from his touch. ‘’Stop, Piotr. You’re wrong.’’
You don’t dare face him, turning away for fear that he will see through your masquerade. You felt a chainlink tighten around your throat; but you knew what you needed to do.
‘’This… I can’t do this anymore… You and I… We want different things.’’
‘’Do you truly not love me anymore, lyubímaya?’’
My beloved?
You’re taken back to the first time he called you that.
An unusually chilly morning wakes you up. A cold breeze floats into the room, and tickles your exposed toes. You open your eyes to the chirping of birds outside as they wake you up to the new day.
You feel the embrace of Piotrs’ arm around you. Big and strong and warm. You felt safe from everything in life. You haven’t had a nightmare since he started spending nights with you, and even if he couldn’t, he would always text or call – which made you feel assured – and that alone was enough.
You slowly turn your head to see Piotr next to you, sleeping soundly. His breathing calm and rhythmic, punctuated by the softest snores you’ve ever heard. You watch him, your heart filling with warmth and love, just at the sight of him. You let your fingertips graze his forehead, pushing aside some stray strands of his shiny jet-black hair. The birds continue chirping as the sun rises and the world begins, but here you were – with the love... of your life.
You could never admit it to yourself. It was too risky to get close but –
The sunlight was now perfectly angled against Piotr’s face, and he takes a deep breath, his eyes fluttering open and straining against the bright light. You move your hand away, and immediately pretend to stare at something past him. But his striking blues capture your tender gaze as it falls back onto them, and they were now looking back at you, as his lips curl into a smile.
‘’Were you waiting for me too long, lyubímaya?’’
‘’I wasn’t waiting–‘’ you notice the same strand of hair, and you bring your fingers up to trace his face again; from his forehead – brushing it away – down to his chin, absent-mindedly brushing against his prickly stubble with your thumb; it was irresistible to you ‘’No, I wasn’t waiting for too long… What does lyubímaya mean?’’ You breathed.
‘’It means ‘my beloved.’ As you are.’’
You grin at him, before thrusting a pillow to his face, and him flipping over onto you – embracing you with tickles as you both wrestle each other – as your laughter carried out onto the street down below.
You’re jilted back into the present as you feel your eyes – burning and red-hot – tears stinging the edges of your eyelids.
Piotr takes a few steps in your direction, a hand reaching out to your shoulder.
You turn away from him – and that small action makes him stop in his tracks.
He sighs a silent, resigned breath.
‘’I… I am sorry for having lied to you, lyubímaya. I only wanted you to be safe, and not to be worried. I know now that it was not right. But… it pains me… I know that you are angry. And I will not try to be pushy. But I love you – more than I’ve loved anyone else. I dream about the days when I can finally come see you – a smile always waiting for me, even when you had a bad day… I want you to know that I will do anything in my power to make things right. There is nothing more that I want, Y/N.’’
There was sincerity on his tongue that a blind man could see.
Before you could respond, you feel his large arms swathing gently over your waist, pulling you close against his chest – his head craning down, chiseled against your collarbone – ‘’You are my whole life, Y/N. Please do not leave me.’’
You feel the strain of his eyes, squinting to keep them closed, as your own tears were burning your eyes.
You squirm out of his hug, a faux look of discomfort and resignation on your face.
‘’You should go.’’
You walk to the front door, and open it wide for him to leave – your eyes not once leaving the ground.
He takes a moment, his eyes showing a hurt you didn’t want to witness.
The seconds stretched out, before long heavy strides made their way towards the door, and as he passes you, he stops, looking over at you.
‘’I will wait for you by the sea – the one we went to last. But… if you truly…. do not want to be with me anymore… I… I will understand.’’
Piotr’s throat was wrung into tightness by what could only have been steel pipes. His eyes were red and swollen, but there was little he could do or say to make things better.
You shut the door behind him, as quickly as you possibly could.
You ran into the shower, seeking refugee from the onslaught of grief that would no doubt have remained where Piotr used to be.
***
“My, my. Dominic King. You’ve grown since I last saw you.”
D.K. stiffens up, his mind ringing a million alarm bells as he turns around to face Demetrius; sat comfortably against his study chair – with one leg over the other.
D.K. immediately turns around to dash to the door, but he crashes into a tall, brawny chest – as two men grab hold of D.K. as he struggles against their grasp. Demetrius walks up to D.K., waggling his finger.
“Ah ah, you should know better than to try and run away from me again,” Demetrius laughs.
D.K. spits onto Demetrius’ face – who instinctively closed his eyes at the spray of fluid. He stood straight faced as he reached into his pocket for his kerchief - wiping spit away from his face before folding it neatly back into his pocket. Demetrius turns his back towards D.K.
D.K. looks up at the goons, when in one swift motion, he gets knocked across the floor by a stiff hard punch square on his cheek.
He breathes through his teeth, trying not to groan or show pain.
There’s a stinging that raises from his cheek. D.K. raises a hand to touch it, greeted by a bright red splotch of blood on his fingertips.
‘’You should’ve known better than to leave your keys laying around,’’ Demetrius shakes D.K.’s keys coyly in his hand as his voice gets gritted and hard, ‘’and your sneaky guardian should’ve known better than to go behind my back and try to destroy everything I’ve spent my life’s work on.’’
He tugs D.K.’s collar, forcing D.K. up on his feet.
D.K. swings his head back in full force, knocking Demetrius back with a pained scowl as he falls with a dull heavy thud.
Demetrius’ goons spring to his defense.
And with one instant solid blow to D.K.’s head, he’s left with no more thoughts.
--
Taglist!
@emma-frxst @chromecutie @fluffymadamina @master-sass-blast@marvelhead17 @onthequill @candle-light-writings @mooleche @starman-thorsus-canos-jock @super-darkcloudstudent
#colossus x reader#piotr rasputin x reader#marvel fanfiction#deadpool fanfiction#colossus imagine#Piotr Rasputin#colossus#painted flaws#painted flaws part 13#part 13
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Artist
It’s @chlonathweek day 5 and we gettin angsty up in here~
***
“No, Chloé. Since Sabrina will be out of town for the rest of the week, you’ll have to pick a different partner for the art project.”
When he was six years old, Nathaniel’s mother had told him that life was about opportunities. Every moment was an opportunity, from the greatest of life’s changes to the smallest of life’s details. Every moment was a choice—a choice of stay or go, a choice of start or stop, a choice of do or don’t. Every choice had its consequences and it was on those consequences that human lives were decided. On those consequences that opportunities were taken.
And it was a simple fact of life, she had told him, that the consequences unknown, the opportunities left untaken, were the ones he would dwell on the most.
Perhaps it was the thought that he was sick of dwelling that brought Nathaniel to take the opportunity presented before him. That brought Nathaniel to raise his hand.
“I’ll do it.”
A general level of friendly chatter had sprouted in the class as students had begun discussing project plans, but conversation eased to halt then. He knew every set of eyes in the room was on him. His eyes were only focused on one.
“No,” she immediately said. She addressed the teacher, but those cold eyes never left him. “Madame Bustier, I’d prefer to do the project on my own.”
He tried not to let his fear show. He tried not to run from that soul-shaking gaze.
“Chloé, that would leave Nathaniel without a partner too. Plus, working with the class artist will be beneficial to your art grade.” In his peripheral, he saw Madame Bustier wave him forward. “Thank you for volunteering, Nathaniel. You can come sit next to Chloé for the rest of class.”
The twitch of her jaw. A look like murder. Then eye contact was broken and in just that split second before she turned to face forward again, Nathaniel swore he saw something more. Something painful.
If he did, it was hidden again by the time he was sitting down next to her. The rest of the class went on with their discussions, though he didn’t miss the glances of Marinette and Nino as they not-so-subtly spectated.
“What the fuck are you doing, Kurtzberg?” Chloé immediately snapped. “What do you want?”
“What’s the matter, Chloé?” he asked absently as he opened his sketch book to a new page. “I thought you’d be happy to have a partner who can do all the work for you.”
Wait. Shit. The words had slipped out almost as if reflex—fighting fire with fire. Except in this case, it was more like fighting a candle with a flamethrower.
Her jaw fell slightly ajar and her brows pinched together in fury. Her eyes though; swimming in her eyes was a splash of genuine hurt.
Chloé pressed her lips together and looked away without another word. She began gathering her supplies and throwing them in her purse. Guilt was an immediate led weight in his stomach and he knew that in his head, he would be kicking himself for many years to come for being rude to his fucking soulmate. Especially when he was actively trying to get closer to her.
“Wait, Chloé, I’m sorry.” He set his hand on her notebook just as she was reaching for it and that fed up look was on him again.
“Look, I don’t know why you wanted to be my partner and I don’t care. You’re right. You can do the project by yourself.” Even though he wasn’t holding the notebook hostage, she made a point to yank it out from under his hand. A moment later, she stood up and the school bell followed her out the door as if on cue.
He scrambled to grab his stuff and rushed out after her. She had a naturally fast walking pace, but she was definitely going faster than usual. “Chloé, wait!” She had already managed to make it to the school’s front door when he caught up to her. “Chloé!”
“Leave me alone, Kurtzberg,” she spat, still not slowing down.
“Wait!” He caught her wrist and the tips of his fingers met the exact mark that had started this all.
She spun to face him. “What!?”
He didn’t let go. He didn’t move. He was paralyzed under that icy gaze and he didn’t think this far and he didn’t know what to say but he needed to say something and, “The first time I ever spoke to you was when I defended Marinette’s floral design against you,” he blurted.
The worst possible combination of confusion and irritation. “So??”
“So…” His heart slammed against the inside walls of his chest and he knew he couldn’t turn back now. “That exact design is tattooed on the back of my left shoulder.”
At first, there was no change in her expression. It was as if her entire being had come to a screeching halt and the only thing her body knew to do was keep breathing. Then the wrinkles in her forehead softened the slightest bit as understanding took confusion’s place. Irritation, however, remained steady.
“Okay, and?”
He blinked. “And? Chloé, we’re—,”
“Soulmates?” she cut him off. “Yeah, I know. Newsflash, Kurtzberg,” she slipped from his grasp and held up her hand, putting his signature on display, “Your art gets spread around the school like wildfire. I’ve known for years.”
Years.
“Why didn’t you—?”
“Tell you? Are you serious? How was I supposed to tell you when you hated me from the start? When I had to watch you date someone else for two years, call someone else your soulmate for two fucking years? How was I supposed to tell you!?”
That cold fury didn’t budge, but now that hint of hurt he had seen earlier was as present as the guilt weighing heavy in his chest. Seeing her then, an avalanche of understanding came crashing down over his head. He doubted the pain he could clearly see now was even half of what she’d been holding inside. He didn’t know. He had no idea. This whole time, his soulmate was in pain because of him and he didn’t know.
“I… I’m sorry,” was all he could think to say but God that didn’t even begin to cover it.
“Yeah,” she said flatly. “Me too.”
With that, she turned to leave, and again, Nathaniel caught her wrist. Heaving a tired sigh of frustration, she faced him once again. “What do you want, Nathaniel?”
He didn’t know, if he was being honest.
In this moment, he wasn’t in love with her. He wasn’t desperately hoping to kiss her, nor did her clear displeasure with his presence make his heart break. His pulse didn’t spike from a look alone and his name on her tongue sounded no different from any other. She was beautiful—he would have to be blind not to see that—but he didn’t find himself sneaking peaks at her during class nor filling his sketchbook with her visage. When he woke in the morning, his first thought wasn’t of her and he didn’t see her face behind closed eyes when he lay down at night.
He didn’t know her favorite color or her favorite song. He couldn’t tell you what her pet peeves were or what tiny joys she found in life. He had no idea if she preferred the books or the movies, the comics or the show. He couldn’t possibly guess what seemingly harmless topic would spark a 10 minute rant, or what activities she secretly loved that she never wanted anyone to know. Did she like pineapple on pizza? Sprinkles on ice cream? Could she walk somewhere without listening to music? Did she take a water bottle with her everywhere? Chapstick? Lip gloss? Did she prefer writing with pen or pencil? Blue or black ink? Coffee or tea? Hot or iced?
He didn’t know. Chloé Bourgeois was, for all intents and purposes, a total and complete stranger. He didn’t even know if she was human.
“I want to know you,” he finally said.
“Why?”
She was listening. Giving him a chance. The anger was fading from her tone and though she sounded tired, for the first time since he saw her tattoo, he felt he might actually have a chance. An opportunity.
His grip on her wrist tightened the slightest bit, as if afraid that if he let go, she would leave and that opportunity would be lost forever. “Because I don’t know about you, but I know that it would be the biggest regret of my life if I never even tried to get to know my soulmate.”
The slight brightening of her eyes. The tiny intake of breath. It was subtle, almost nonexistent, but he didn’t miss it. The reaction to him calling her his soulmate.
“But you hate me,” she argued. He could hear her desire to fight subsiding with every word. “Don’t try to tell me that you don’t, because we both know that isn’t true.”
“Yeah,” he admitted, “I do.” His first impression of her had been awful and what he’d learned from Marinette after that had only made it worse. She was a bully, she was selfish, and with her father being the mayor and the richest man in Paris, she was also untouchable. He had never thought to look any deeper than that, because that was all the reason he’d needed to dislike her. But if she was his soulmate…
He shrugged, giving her the smallest of smiles. “And I’m clearly wrong.”
Chloé didn’t say anything. She stood there, looking back and forth between his eyes with an expression that he could only describe as exhausted and unsure. Eventually, her gaze dropped to where he still held her wrist.
With one last reluctant squeeze, he released her. She cradled the wrist in her other hand and swiped a thumb over the tattoo, staring at it as she thought.
“You’re right,” she finally said, voice low. When she looked up again, her usual air of confidence had returned. “You are wrong.” He couldn’t glean from her expression whether that was good or bad. He swallowed thickly, waiting on her every word. She let out a long breath, and with it, an immense weight seemed to ease off her shoulders. “And I probably am too.”
So…Did that mean…?
She fished her cell phone out of her purse and unlocked it. “Give me your number,” she said as she handed it over.
A flurry of pins and needles washed through him then as sincere blue eyes met his. It was the first time she had ever looked at him like that—ever looked at him with anything but antagonism. It wasn’t a happy look, but it was new. And it wasn’t…cold. Her eyes shined like the first day of spring and he could feel their warmth slowly spreading through him. It was a feat just to look away.
He tried not to let his fingers shake as he typed his information into her phone and handed it back.
“I’ll text you about the art project,” she said, and with one last look over her shoulder, walked away.
#chlonathweek2k19#chlonath#miraculous ladybug#soulmate au#soulmate tattoo#werecreatures au#supernatural creatures au#this is it#angst
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