#But I can't even be good enough to make them happy
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
- series : crow choir
"commitment" and pre-moving out reader is an interesting stich i want to add to the story, and a side trait to think about when reading.
the premise is that after the reader's tough time with their sister is ended by her untimely death, they're shuffled around foster homes with barely enough time to get settled, create meaningful relationships, or even say goodbye properly. they're probably in a dull headspace during the whole agenda, having to navigate through a life without their only pillar of support, and without any support at all.
it would subconsciously create an issue with attachment though, not wanting to trust or love others at all in fear that once they eventually leave, as they always do, you'll be left with a little empty pit in your heart again.
hobbies, similarly, are just quick things to occupy yourself with. not something you're actually interested in, or particularly want to do. just something to fill in the empty gaps in time when you're not with your friends or busy with work or shaking hands with a nameless businessman for mr. wayne.
because of this, everything is just... boring. difficult to do, to finish. with your family it's the exact same. wanting to be with them, trust them, love them, is like your hobbies. quick and done with, depending on your mood. it's somewhat natural to have your social battery correlate with your behavior, but with the headspace provided, it's just another cog in a endless wheel of self-pity and loathing.
you'll think miserably; why don't they want to talk to me? while having tensely excusing yourself from a family get-up with a slight grimace just a few hours ago.
that's just the thing. you're not excluded from anything. well, most things, they do sometimes forget about you, but you're not excluded. you don't involve yourself because you're scared of feeling happy with them, but feel terrible when you're all on your own too.
with an emotionally repressed background clawing it's way up from your past with a mostly-busy, mostly-angsty, tough-loving sister, you can't even identify your emotions clearly.
i imagine maybe asking dick to hang out, and he assures you he'll make time with a smile. yeah, he does forget, remembering out of his own volitation only months later, but he does remember, and asks you about the same. but if you're say, in a bad mood, which you happen to be in very often because of your circumstances, you'll probably decline. moping over it later.
there's no good or bad here. reader is not a bad person for this specifically, so to speak. neither is the family. yes, not following up on particular wishes and then blaming others and kicking yourself up over it isn't healthy, it's unfair too. but you can't be blamed. you're still living on the mindset of a little kid waiting for big sister to come home from work, ask to play, and possibly dodging a fist to your face and scrambling away to your room. you're scared.
the family doesn't exclude you, but they could be doing a better job. yes you sit at the dining table with them when you eat, but you don't join into conversations and they don't seem to care. yes you watch your brothers squabble on video games, but only from a cold distance. but they can't be blamed. they're all a little emotionally stunted, and their reasoning does seem to sometimes overpower them. maybe you're so quiet because you don't like to talk? they wouldn't want to impose themselves on you. besides, they don't know you that well either, and you're doing quite a job to make sure they don't, what would you guys even talk about?
that said, the above thoughts are fleeting. thoughts about you are neglected, and pushed into the corner, like you are. after falling out with your friends over... an incident, you grow harshly distant. you no longer fear them, no, you detest them. you begin to hate again. and that little burst of emotion, that hate, is so refreshing in the face of dull existence that you cling onto it. you get attached. it's their fault. some vigilantes they are. saving everyone but you, but your sister, your siblings, your friends, everybody who had the simplest misfortune of being associated with your unmeaning life. maybe it's unreasonable to think this way, but you don't much care.
you grow unreasonable, but you always have been.
if you like the story, i encourage interacting and sending asks, but either way, thank you for the support on the series and for reading!!
#batfam x reader#angst#batfamily#batsis reader#batman fanfiction#bruce wayne x batsis#batfam#tim drake x batsis#dc x reader#neglected reader#x neglected reader#yandere dc#yandere batfam#yandere batman#yandere batboys#yandere dick grayson#batfam x male reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x gn reader
94 notes
·
View notes
Text
black out.
chris takes care of you after you get a little too drunk at his frat ⋆ ★ dealer!reader x client!chris blurb!! pt 2 to your vibes are off :)
Since Chris was actually able to sleep last night, he's able to enjoy this party. He's not a huge fan of parties at his frat back to back, but when it's when of his favorite themes? Hell yeah.
Black Out is the simplest and funniest party theme ever, and since his entire wardrobe is already all black, he never has to go out and buy anything. The biggest thing he did to prepare for this party was trade his usual black shirt for a black tank top.
He was having a good time. Winning a few games of beer pong, losing a few of them, dancing with girls.
Then he saw you. He hates you immensely, really. Your mini black dress and star printed tights brought you so much attention that you might as well have dropped a metal water bottle in a dead silent classroom.
You make him wanna claw his heart out of his chest and blend it up. You, you're different from all the other girls. You give him a feeling that's unrecognizable while a heated kiss or even having sex with a girl does nothing for him. That's annoying as fuck.
He chugs down his beer as he watches you flirt with Aiden, one of his frat brothers. Whatever.
He's starting to think that he's the only one here who has common sense. You're actively stumbling and holding onto the wall to help you walk, and no one's helping you. He knows frat bro's are assholes, but what the hell?
He was going to send Matt to help you since you're friends, or Aiden even. All he is to you is a client, but again. Whatever. He can't find either of them. He hasn't been watching you or anything, but you are insanely hard to miss. He wonders how he failed to see you get this drunk.
He stares at you as you try to stumble to get to your destination. How is he supposed— "Matt?" You slur, turning your head towards him. "I've been looking for you all night." You throw yourself into his arms, he catches you. God, you're wasted. "Chris." He corrects you, staring down at your glittery covered eyelids. "You....you look a lot like Matt... right now." You tilt your head at him, "Triplets, remember?"
The gasp you do is adorable enough to make a smile end up on his face. "Ohhhhhhhhhh," You drag out. "I forgot." He changes the topic. "You're wasted."
"Yeah."
He rolls his eyes. "You come here with anyone?"
"Mh....." He watches as your eyes unfocus. "I.... don't think so." You're unbelievable. "You don't think so, Kid—?"
"Remember...walking here.....I think." You stutter out. He can't believe you're real. "From where?"
"My apartment." You say, giving him an intoxicated smile. "You don't look too happy with me."
"The closest apartments to campus are a ten minute walk. We started this thing at seven o'clock, are you fuckin' stupid? Why would you walk here—" He watches your eyebrows furrow before you drunkly attempt to push him away. He holds onto you harder. "M not stupid." You mumble, "My truck doesn't work."
"You still shouldn't have—"
"N my roommate doesn't like parties, and her boyfriend drives her around every where—" You interrupt, "It's not safe to walk around at night—"
"N, I don't think she really likes me anymore cause' I think she found out that I sell drugs—"
"Kid—"
"M not stupid." He huffs, "Yeah, but it's not—"
"I didn't have a—" He slams his hand over your mouth. "You're not stupid, okay? You're really smart, and you know what really smart girls do? They give me her phone so I can call their roommate and tell them you're staying here tonight." He watches you blink at him. Once, then twice. "Staying.....here?"
"I just got my car cleaned, I'm not giving you the chance to throw up in it."
"Oh...... My phone's dead."
"You remember her number, right?" He removes his left arm, that's wrapped around you to reach into his back pocket for his phone. "She changed her number cause' she was getting too many spam calls n I can't remember it."
What the fuck.
Chris leaves the whole calling your roommate problem for later. Right now, he's focused on you and carrying you to his room. After he's done, he's gonna pray that Matt isn't in the middle of a heated make-out session and can hopefully help him with you.
"You better not throw up." He says, finally opening the door to his room that ends your treacherous journey. "M not, I promise." You mumble, "Off—" You say, starting to slip off the straps of your dress.
He doesn't really understand what you're talking about until he turns around from closing his door, "Woahwoahwoah— Kid—" Luckily, he only sees you start to pull it down. He quickly covers his eyes. "You can't just strip!"
"But I'm uncomfortable!" He hears you whine, "I'll get you something to sleep in, alright?— Just pull your dress back up!" He quickly picks out a hoodie from his closet, when he turns around and finds you face planting on his bed is when he notices the zipper on your dress.
"Kid."
"Mhnfp..?" You let out a noise that gets muffled by his bed sheets. "There's a zipper."
"Oh." He watches you sit up and grab at the back of your dress, attempting to pull at the zipper. "Can't." You whine. "Chris..?"
He swallows and drops the hoodie he picked out for you on his bed. He shifts closer to your spot on the bed, moves your hair out of the way, then unzips your dress. Giving him the perfect view of the mini angel wings you have tattooed on your back.
His heart physically hurts. "Thanks." You mutter, not caring that your dress just fell off your body in front of him, thank God he's facing your back side.
"Hoodie." He reminds you, you slip it on, and turn around towards him. "Gonna go get Matt n were gonna get you water and—" His words die in his throat as you pull off your star tights. "Ah."
"Itchy." Is all you give as an explanation before you're crawling up to where his pillows are and hide yourself under the covers. He's so happy his hoodie covers your ass.
"You're not gonna throw up in my bed, right?" You shake your head into his pillows, "Kid, I swear—"
"I promise!— I'm not gonna throw up in your bed." He watches you curl yourself into a ball, "Night, Chris." You say sleepily, falling asleep immediately.
He observes you for a moment, taking in how cute you look in his hoodie. "Night, Kid."
tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizzzsstuff @sosasturns
#theyluvpeach★#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#sub chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sub matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfic#x reader
94 notes
·
View notes
Note
PLEASE write some stevepop where soda sees steve maybe defending or secretly being kind to ponyboy!
i love steve and ponyboys friendship
AGHH the scream I screamt when I got this request ABSOLUTELY! Adore these boys I am HAPPY to provide! fic under the cut!
"Ponyboy get your ass out here or I'm leavin' you!" Steve slams on the horn 'n Darry appears in the kitchen window to shake his head firmly. Ah, it was seven thirty in the mornin'. Steve had forgotten. Pony ducks past the open screen door to flip him off 'n Steve has to fight the urge to throw the door open 'n drag the kid out by his hair.
"I'm gonna kill that kid. I swear to God." Steve hmphs, kicks a foot on the dash.
Soda leans through the rolled down window 'n chuckles to himself. "Glory, Steve, ain't there bigger things in the world to be mad at? The injustices 'n all are a tad more serious then a bitchy kid brother, dig?" Soda snorts 'n Steve rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, well, the injustices aren't about to make me fuckin' late!" Steve hollers 'n Pony makes an indignant noise from somewhere in the house. Soda cracks up. "You comin' to school today?"
Soda tilts his head to the side, opens his mouth but before he can say anythin' Darry cuts in from the porch, "He better be takin' his lil' ass or I'm gonna bust it." Soda hoots a laugh 'n wiggles his hips from where he's bent down to talk to Steve from outside the car.
"Well, I think the decision's been made for the safety of both me 'n my ass." Darry rolls his eyes, grabs Soda by the back of the shirt 'n hoists him up, plantin' a kiss to the top of his ruthlessly messy waves. He releases him 'n turns to climb into his truck.
He's halfway in when he stops 'n turns. "Pony come out yet?"
"Fuckin' no-" The screen door slams 'n Pony leaps off the stairs, hair ungreased 'n curlin' around his eyes, backpack slung over one shoulder 'n unzipped, a piece of burnt toast bit between his teeth.
He skids to a stop to let Darry drop a kiss to his temple 'n then whack him one up the back of his head. He whines wordlessly, mostly 'cause if he tried to speak he'd lose his breakfast, 'n rips open the back door to Steve's beater, crawlin' into the back seat.
"If you get crumbs in my car I'm gonna kick your ass." Steve twists around 'n Pony takes his toast from his mouth just to stick his tongue out.
Soda takes one good leap 'n slides across the roof of the beater to get to the passenger side, slammin' the door shut 'n kickin' his feet up on the dash. He idly flips the radio station until Jimmy Gilmer and The Fireballs Sugar Shack starts playin' 'n he grins 'n cranks the volume.
Pony groans 'n leans over the seat to change it 'n Steve puts an elbow up 'n shoves him back into his seat. "Shotgun picks the music 'n last time I checked you weren't even in the front, brat."
Pony narrows his eyes, scowls, 'n breaks off the crumbliest end of the bread, grindin' it into Steve's carpet where he can't see. "You don't even like this song!"
Soda twists around, throws a hand out the window, grins with his whole mouth. "Nuh uh, Pone. This is Stevie's favorite song. Know why?" Pony stops scowlin' just long enough to look confused.
"Why?"
"'Cause it's mine 'n Steve loves to please- OW!" Steve howls 'n jabs Soda in the ribs. Soda jumps, whoops 'n scrambles to the side to avoid Steve's fingers. Pony groans theatrically 'n drops his head to the window.
A horn blares 'n all three of them look up 'n realize their still blockin' Darry in the driveway. Darry leans out the window with an exasperated sigh, "Steven Thomas, I thought you were so worried about bein' late!"
...
Steve rolls into the parkin' lot goin' so fast he nearly spins out, throwin' the car into the first empty spot he finds. The clock on the dash reads seven fifty- already twenty minutes late.
"Pony move your ass." Steve snatches the keys from the ignition, spinnin' to grab his bag from the back. Pony flips him off again but wiggles out, draggin' his stuff across the seat. Soda jumps out, not even a pencil on his person.
Once they're out of the car, however, none of them hustle across the lot. It was the principle. You couldn't look too eager headed into a school buildin'. They had a rep to protect.
"C'mon." Soda leans around the corner when they get to the top of the steps, watchin' for the lady at the front to turn her back. "Pony go." Pony skids through the door, squats down low under the desk 'n tries to slip by.
So, of course, the woman takes that exact moment to look up.
"Excuse me, young man, you're late. Do you have a note or a parent with you?" Pony freezes like a deer in the headlights 'n both Soda 'n Steve groan.
"Uh-"
"Sorry, Mrs. Baker." Steve doesn't stop to think, just hoists his bag up on his shoulder 'n strolls over to grab Pony by the shoulder. "I gave him a ride today. Him 'n Soda. Sodapop Curtis, that is." He turns around to jerk his head at Soda. Pony looks back at him, frown lines of confusion knittin' between his brow.
"Ok." The woman folds long fingers together 'n looks at him expectantly. "Do you have a note?'
"Naw, I'm just sayin' it ain't their faults. I was-" He grits his teeth together, digs his fingers into Pony's shoulder, "runnin' a little late today. My fault. Traffic was a real bit- uh mess." He offers his best charmin' smile 'n wishes he had Soda's stupid big eyes 'n innocent long lashes that could let him blink his way outta anythin'. Maybe he shoulda thrown Soda under the bus. She raises one thin eyebrow but sighs.
"Well, alright then. I'll write them passes. You, however, will have to get a mark on your record." Steve does his best to look apologetic, waits 'til she turns, 'n flips her off. Soda snorts 'n tries to, poorly, hide it behind a cough. The woman glances over her shoulder 'n Soda lets his dimple show.
He definitely should have let him take the fall.
She tears two slips off a pad 'n hands them across to Pony 'n Soda. Soda shoots him a little apologetic grin 'n Pony begrudgingly mutters his thanks. Steve flicks him in the forehead 'n before Pony can open his mouth 'n say somethin' smart, Soda grabs him 'n pulls him along.
"Name?" Steve frowns, watches as Soda 'n Pony horse around, splittin' at the end of the hall to go to their respective classes. Steve has a sudden pit in his stomach.
"Huh?"
"Your name, hon?"
"Sorry, uh, Randle. Steve." She makes quick work of the papers, handin' Steve over his own pass.
"Alright, Mr.Randle," Steve cringes internally but doesn't let it show, "get to class, now. 'N don't let me see you again, today."
...
Steve's supposed to be skippin' third period with Soda but the knucklehead hadn't shown where they had agreed. Steve had hung around the bleachers for as long as he dared before sighin', concedin' he wasn't gonna show.
He pushes off the rail he'd been leanin' on, debatin' his options. He could head straight out to the beater 'n call the day a wash, come back for Soda 'n Pony when school let out. But Pony, the little shit, was just as likely to tattle as he was to keep it to himself. Plus he was supposed to have fourth with Soda, assumin' he showed.
He hesitates a moment more, hedges his bets, 'n figures he might as well just head to class 'n beg off bein' late. His English teacher was a real doll, she might even turn a blind eye.
He slips the back door open 'n ducks his head through, lettin' his eyes adjust. The hall's deserted, though he can hear some kinda ruckus bein' kicked up somewhere nearby. Some real brawl by the sounds of it.
He creeps the rest of the way in, easin' the door shut. Steve turns the opposite way as the noise, figurin' they were bound to get busted 'n if he was anywhere nearby so would he. He's just creakin' the door to the stairs open, idly listenin' when he catches somethin' that makes his pulse rocket up.
"How do you like that, huh, Curtis?" Steve doesn't even bother to catch the slam the door makes as it shuts. He's movin' before he can think, down in the direction of the voice. Someone groans 'n Steve picks up the pace.
The voices sound too young to be Steve 'n Soda's age. Which really only left-
Steve rounds the corner fast, slidin' a little on the tile 'n the scene he comes up on has him clenchin' his fists so hard half moons carve into his palms. Oh, Jesus.
Here's the thing. Pony ain't half bad in a scrap. Somethin' about growin' up with two brothers 'n a house full of boys made you either sink or swim when it came to gettin' pounded. 'N maybe the boys currently beatin' the ever-lovin' hell outta the kid knew that. Considerin' it was five on one 'n Pony was still on his feet.
Steve doesn't hesitate. One of 'em has Pony's arms pinned behind his back, Pony writhin' 'n strugglin' for all he's worth, 'n another is sluggin' the hell out of him. Landin' sloppy, wide punches along the kid's ribs.
Pony groans at each one but nothin' more. God, maybe the kid was tougher than Steve gave him credit for. When he wasn't bein' a baby.
"Hey, asshole." Steve catches the wrist of the kid sluggin' Pony 'n for a second both of them just blink at Steve in surprise. "Leave my fuckin' kid brother alone, yeah?" Then Steve cracks his fist across the kid's face 'n he goes down, hard.
Pony wriggles out, immediately turns to swing on the boy behind him. Steve catches his shoulder, gives him a hard shove. "Beat it."
Pony freezes, chest heavin', blood tricklin' down his temple that makes Steve want to put whoever did that's head through a goddamn wall. "No!"
One of the others steps up, lands a punch under Steve's elbow 'n Steve jams his palm into the kid's nose. "I'm not havin' a fuckin' conversation go." Pony scowls 'n a kid goes to sock him one. Steve grabs him by the shirt front, easily sends him careenin' into the wall.
"Fine." Pony hesitates a moment more 'n Steve gives him another push. He whips around 'n vanishes down the hall 'n around the corner.
Steve's losin' track of who's who 'n where's what, throwin' punches 'n easily manhandlin' the younger boys steadily backward. "Look at the baby run!" Steve's vision goes red 'n he grabs the boy by the hair 'n slams his head into the goddamn lockers. Tears instantly spring to his eyes 'n Steve yanks him close.
"What are you gonna do? Cry?" He throws him down 'n the kid crawls back 'n away from him, runnin' a hand over his face.
Before he can go for him again, someone's got a hand around his wrist, jerkin' him backward. Fully on instinct, he swings around to slug them one before he realizes its a teacher.
He shakes his head to clear it, bares his teeth at the group of kids now clustered together. The fight's over now 'n it's fuckin' clear who won. But Steve can't help but dig his heels in 'n lean toward them again.
"If I ever hear about you goddamn punks layin' another finger on Ponyboy, you're not gonna be able to walk your pantywaist asses home to your mama's. Got it?"
The last thing he sees before he's dragged off to, presumably, the office, is the blood drain from their faces 'n the flash of a familiar form duckin' through the crowd.
...
Steve rubs a hand idly over his achin' knuckles 'n sighs. He was acutely familiar with the view from the hall outside the office. He'd spent enough hours there they should probably put his name on a seat permanently.
He can hear the Principal as he calls Darry, hell it's quiet enough he can hear Darry's irritation from behind the shut door. Steve sighs again, picks at his cuticles. There was a good chance Darry wouldn't be mad about this, considerin' the circumstances, but he'd be spittin' nails about it until he could get him the full story. 'N he wasn't particularly lookin' forward to it.
"Fancy meetin' you here, Randle." Steve jars 'n whips his head up, but it's just Soda. He plops down in the chair beside him, sprawlin' his legs out in front of him.
"Yeah, real rare sight." Steve scoffs, dryly.
"Heard you got into some fight, huh?" And here's the thing. Maybe, maybe, Steve gave a shit about the goddamn brat that was Ponyboy Michael Curtis. But he had no interest in admittin' that. Hell, he wouldn't even be tellin' Darry if he thought he could get around bein' whooped without it. So he's not real interested in tellin' Soda. No matter how stupid it probably sounds.
"Yeah. Somethin' like that." Soda rolls his eyes, produces a folded paper frog from somewhere 'n flicks it at the wall.
"Man, aren't you just Michelangelo this afternoon." Steve shoots him a confused look from the side of his eye 'n Soda huffs. "Full of words."
"You mean like, Alan Ginsberg or somethin'."
"I'll call ya Romeo if it means you spill what happened." Soda blinks his stupid big eyes at him 'n Steve feels his ears go red.
"Nothin' happened. Just a lil' scrap. Some assholes said the wrong thing 'n so I beat their asses. End of story. Sorry to disappoint, sweetheart." Steve ribs him back 'n Soda just giggles, the bastard.
"Yeah, didn't take you for a child beater, though." Soda cackles to himself 'n Steve shoves him hard in the shoulder. "I heard they were Pony's age." Somethin' in Soda's sharp eyes gives Steve the impression he knows more than he's lettin' on.
"Yeah, what about it? Do I need an age limit on lettin' someone be a dick?"
"Nah, I'm just sayin'. You know. Kids can be cruel. To each other." Steve narrows his eyes 'n Soda just grins. "All I'm sayin' is I saw Pony. 'N I was wonderin' if you had." Steve opens his mouth to answer 'n the door bangs open, the principal takin' a long stride out into the hall.
"Steven Randle?" He catches one look at Soda 'n his shoulders drop a little lower. Soda just beams at him. "Sodapop Curtis, what are you in my hall for?"
"Well, no reason. But now that we're all here I figure you'll wanna send me to the office for skippin'. Say, think you can get ol' Dar back on the phone or d'ya think twice in one day is excessive?"
...
Darry couldn't get off for the remainder of the day so the principal elected to let him stay in the office for the final period. Fourty-five minutes had never felt so long.
Steve was nearly tearin' his hair out by the final bell. He jumps up immediately, swingin' his bag over his shoulder 'n jettin' out to the parkin' lot. Pony's already there, leanin' against the car, dejectedly.
"Hey, Pone. You ok?" Steve goes to push his bangs back from the spot on his temple that had been bleedin' 'n Pony bats his hand angrily away. "Jesus, kid, what's the problem?"
"I don't wanna fuckin' talk about it." Steve feels a hot rush of anger slips through his veins 'n he clenches his fists.
"Fine. Whatever, kid. Get in the fuckin' car." He unlocks the door 'n Pony practically throws himself into the back seat with a huff.
Ohh, he was never goin' down for that kid ever again.
Soda comes bouncin' across the lot just as Steve's lightin' a kool, nearly snappin' the match in two with short, angry movements. "Well, hey good lookin'." Soda shoots him a questionin' look 'n Steve waves a hand dismissively.
"Hey, Pep. C'mon, let's go." He ducks into the driver's seat 'n Soda climbs into the shot gun. He twists to look at Pony, the backseat clouded up with Pony's own smoke.
"Hey, Pone, how was your day?" Pony scowls 'n shoots daggers at the back of Steve's head.
"Why don'cha ask him." Soda cranks the window down 'n sticks his head out.
"Well, glory, aren't the two of you just a blast."
...
Soda's got a shift down at the DX, a rare one Steve's not on. Though, he's got an inklin' that's on purpose. They had a habit of havin' too good of a time when they got shifts together. Though, it never stopped the one not workin' from boppin' on down to bug the other, work or no.
Steve floors it so he has time to take the back roads with the farms. Soda always loved to see the horses out in the field 'n Steve had no problem obligin' him. Usually, he would hit the hills goin' fast enough to make your stomach flip just so Pone could stick his stupid head out 'n whoop but he's sulkin' too hard to notice.
Whatever. Soda still points out each 'n every horse 'n that's good enough for Steve.
When they pull up to the DX Soda jumps out before the cars even come to a stop 'n Pony tries to slip out behind him. Steve slams a hand down on the lock 'n so Pony's just yankin' on the handle.
"C'mon Steve. Let me the hell out." Steve resolutely pretends he doesn't see him.
"See ya, Soda. D'ya want a ride home later?" Soda leans through the window again 'n snatches his DX shirt from the seat.
"Sure, Stevie." He raises his eyebrows 'n jerks his head at Pony, not subtly at all. "Assumin' you two haven't killed each other by this afternoon."
"I dunno. This afternoon ain't a lot of time to work with. Maybe tonight?" Pony scowls 'n Steve makes a face at him in the rearview mirror.
"Alright, you two. I'll catcha on the flip." Soda winks at Pony through the back window 'n Pony stops lookin' like the most put-out kid in the world to grin back at him. The second Soda's turned around Pony sinks back into his seat 'n goes back to poutin'. Good God.
Steve waits for the DX door to close behind Soda, 'n then he floors it again. "Where are we goin'?" Pony's sunk so low Steve has to stretch to see him in the mirror.
"Home, dumbass. You got some shit to say. Clearly." Pony hmphs but falls silent.
Darry's trucks not in the driveway when they pull up, to be expected. Pony snatches his stuff off the seat 'n marches inside without a word, slammin' the car door behind him. Steve has to force himself to take a long, slow breath to keep himself from finishin' the job those goddamn kids had started 'n cavin' in Pony's skull.
Glory, Darry must be wearin' off on him.
After a moment, he pulls the keys out of the ignition 'n trudges into the house behind Pony. When he gets through the front door, Ponyboy's already standin' in the livin' room, spine pulled taught, jaw all set like he's bracin' for a fight.
Steve has to fight the urge not to scoff at him. He's got a bandaid over his temple 'n bruises along his ribs that make him huff every time he moves 'n he thinks Steve is gonna square up with him. God. The kid was smart but he was also incredibly stupid sometimes.
"Well, c'mon. Out with it. What's with the attitude?" Pony bristles 'n scowls, clenchin' his fists up at his sides.
"I don't have a goddamn attitude."
"Yeah," Steve rolls his eyes 'n Pony makes a low, angry noise in the back of his throat. "Sure. None at all."
"Why can't you ever mind your own fuckin' business, Steve?"
"You are my business you fuckin' idiot." Steve can feel himself gettin' pissed off, he's clingin' to his patience by his fuckin' fingernails. "So this is what I get for stoppin' some assholes for stompin' you into the curb?"
"They weren't!" Pony explodes, stamps his foot so hard into the carpet the picture frames quake. "This may surprise you, Steve, but I can handle myself. I don't need you treatin' me like a goddamn kid."
For a moment, all Steve can do is blink at him. Then he feels the last shred of understandin' slip straight out of his head. "Pony are you stupid? You know what? Sure. You can handle yourself. Handle yourself so well you end up with a busted eye 'n a broken rib you idiot-"
"It wasn't that ba-"
"Sure!" Steve throws his hands up in exasperation. "It wasn't that bad. But it was about to be! Since when do you not want backup in a fight?"
"It's not that!" Pony's red in the face now, hair floppin' down in his eyes, knuckles white.
"So what the hell is-" Oh. Oh, alright. "Is this 'cause I didn't let you stay?"
Pony's wicked glare tells him all he needs to know. Glory God almighty.
"Pony. Look. I know you're smart. Give me one good reason why I wouldn't want you to stick around." Holy fuck, Darry really had been rubbin' off on him. He gives an involuntary shake.
"Because you're an asshole." And you know what? Darry was a fuckin' saint for not stranglin' the kid years ago.
"Yeah. A huge asshole who was coverin' for your ass. Pony think. If you had been there when that fight was busted up how the fuck do you think Darry would have reacted?"
Pony bites down hard on his lip. "I-"
"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't start it. But you couldn't have gotten into it at all if you had been in class. Y'know. Where you were meant to be."
"I was just-"
"Yeah. Sure. Save the I was just goin' to the bathroom, I was just gettin' some water, I, I, I for Darry. You were skippin'."
For a moment, Pony just glares at him. "And you were just playin' hall monitor, right?" Pony mutters, but he doesn't sound mad anymore.
"Yeah, kid. Someone's gotta do a tour to make sure someone's not beatin' your head in." Pony rolls his eyes but Steve just grabs him by his shoulder 'n pulls him in. "Look. I know you can handle yourself, man. You don't need me or Soda or Darry intervenin' for your ass. But just humor me, alright? Im tryin' save us both some grief from the big man."
Pony scuffs his toe in the carpet, runs a hand up the back of his neck. "Yeah. Alright. Deal. But you can't tell Darry I was skippin'."
Steve rolls his eyes. "Tell you what. If you keep my secret, I'll keep yours."
Pony narrows his eyes, hesitates, 'n then drops his head against Steve's shoulder. "Deal."
...
"Stevie! Pony? Any bodies need to be buried?" Soda bounds in, screen door flappin' closed. He sticks his head into the dark living room.
Pony 'n Steve are curled up on the couch, Pony's head in Steve's lap, Steve absently rakin' a hand through Pony's dark hair. The second Soda appears, Steve jars Pony so hard he slides right off the couch 'n onto the floor with an indignant wail.
"Well, hello, you two." Darry follows Soda inside, droppin' his keys on the table with a heavy sigh.
"Soda! What are you doin' home?"
"Darry picked me up." Soda wiggles his eyebrows at Steve 'n Steve hurls a throw pillow at his head.
"Speak of the devil." Darry crosses into the living room, fixes Steve with a stern look. He glances down at Pony, double takes the bandaid, the way he's rubbin' at his ribs. Looks back at Steve's raw knuckles.
"Y'all got somethin' to say? I got a call about a fight." Pony twists to look up at Steve 'n Steve shoots him a little grin.
"Yeah. You know me, Dar. Can't keep me outta trouble." Darry puts a hand on his hip, looks between the two of them, his face softenin'.
"I do." He rolls his eyes 'n turns towards the kitchen. "Glory, I do."
Pony 'n Steve shoot each other a look, bite back on a laugh. "C'mon, you brat. I'm cold. Get up on this couch." Pony kicks him hard in the shin but clambers back up, leanin' his weight on Steve's shoulder 'n fixin' his eyes on the TV.
When Steve looks up again, Soda's watchin' him with a sly little grin. "Hey, Stevie?" He plops down on his other side, yankin' one of the blankets from the back of the sofa. "Pony should make us late more often. It sure puts you in a real sweet mood."
#TYSM for the ask!!#this one was actually so fun to write#pony n steve are probably my favorites to write as far as relationship#they are such assholes#n i love them so much#very much i'd do anythin for you but tell you#hes a good brother when he isnt beating the hell out of pony#anyways#loved the chance to sneak in a bit of stevepop too#those boys are so sweet#i truly think no matter if you ship them or not their relationship is so insane#guys platonic or romantic theyre in love#and i will hear NO words#ANYWAY#someone free darry hes exhausted#the outsiders#sodapop curtis#ponyboy curtis#darry curtis#steve randle#the outsiders 1983#the outsiders fanfiction#my writing#writers on tumblr#stevepop
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
Satan NSFW Alphabet
Well shit You guys really wanted it...
Here you go.
Cw: rough sex, hitting, spanking, mentions of bruises and bleeding.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Am I surprising you, but Satan is actually pretty good with aftercare? Satan will press his lips and look at any injuries he gave you. He'll hold you close and snuggle into your neck. You hear a soft rumble from his body, which he adamantly denies. He becomes incredibly protective and clingy for a while. Any King or not tries to rip you away from his arms we'll have a one-way trip to Lucifer's office. If you try to leave to go to the bathroom or get some water, he will always have his arms around you to the point where he's following you around like a clingy cat.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
As much as he hates to admit it, He agrees with Mammon's obsession with your ass. Tight, pert, and soft; enough flesh to sink his teeth into and leave red with his handprints. He likes the way he jiggles when he slaps it.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Yes. In you, on you, breeding you, in your mouth as long as He gets to empty his balls with his favorite stress toy.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Every demon has at least one dirty secret. Satan is no exception. As much as he likes to take pride in being your protector. He can't ignore his sadistic desires. To really mark your skin red and purple. To see The fear and pain in your eyes as you try to squirm away from him.
How badly he wants to make you bleed and lick up your blood.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
The way his hands clench when he thinks about slapping you across the face when you're sucking him off.
Satan had had lovers before and after he met Solomon. But once he had you, he kind of ghosted all of them. They're pissed, but honestly,, he could care less. You're all that matters to him.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Doggy style, cowgirl, face sitting, Anything that frees his hands to do more.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
No, Satan likes to lose himself during sex; if you break his concentration, he will get mad at you. If you have enough energy to school off with him while he's fucking you then he's not doing his job.
Satan shaves once every month or two and then lets everything grow out.
Personally, I feel like Satan should have more hair than he actually does (happy trail, facial hair, etc.), mainly because depressed people go through episodes where they just don't care about how groomed they are for days on end. He's not like Asmodeus, who purposely doesn't was; sometimes, he just can't bring himself to. If he isn't working, he's destroying his own stuff or killing angels for fun.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He only started to care about grooming when you started living in Gehenna. Depressed Satan starting to grow a beard and mustache because you spent two weeks too long in Hades. Only to shave it all off and be happy as a puppy when He hears you're coming back.
Satan has no idea what intimacy even is. He practically froze up when you cuddled up against his body. Even if you tell him what to do what you probably have to He will be extremely hesitant out of fear of screwing up somehow.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He doesn't jack off; I know it's surprising, but hear me out. He rather just have a body to fuck; He breaks all of his sex toys in minutes when he's using them and his hand just makes him even more pent up and pissed off.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Other than spanking, Satan has a massive sadism/masochism. Kink, You better hurt him like he hurts you. He doesn't want to have it any other way.
A huge brat tamer, if you try to tease him, he'll take that as an invitation, and trust me, you don't want to know what he's about to do to you.
Fucking loves Free Use
One time when you told him how big his cock was, he instantly came; he came so fast and so hard it bruised his ego, and he was staring at the ceiling thinking about what just happened.
New Kink unlocked🔓 Praise Kink
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere he damn pleases; He's the fucking king. In fact, he'd rather it be in public so he can give a message to other devils to fuck off.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Anger, His anger feels him up so full that it goes straight to his dick.
Teasing, he'll take it as a challenge. Satan always takes the bait, hook, line, and sinker. He can't help himself. You send one obscure image of yourself; he doesn't care where he is, in the middle of a war or in a meeting. He will be there in 10 minutes, approaching your location rapidly.
Satan 🤝 Levi jealous sex
Unlike Levi, Who stews in jealousy before acting; Satan just immediately explodes.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Get that softy fluffy sex shit out of here.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Sit on his face... Don't put 10% of your weight down; sit on it. SIT ON IT! MAKE SURE HE DOESN'T BREATHE!
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Fast and rough till you can still feel him for days.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Anywhere; everywhere; anytime, if he sees that ass and he's horny it's free real estate.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Oh yeah, of course, he'll experiment. It's not that he takes risks; it's that he doesn't care for them.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
As long as he damn pleases. Even if he is sore,, he'll keep going.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
No fuck those pieces of plastic bullshits; if he catches you using one, he'll use it till it breaks and then say. "I'm not replacing shit. You should be using me; I'm your dildo!!"
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Satan doesn't tease, and Satan does not like teasing. Teasing him is considered a challenge. Satan rather just fuck you till you stop pissing him off. If you really want to tease him you have to tie him down and pray the bindings don't break.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He growls like a feral animal; if Asmodeus fucks you like an animal in heat, then Satan fucks you like an animal with rabies; Yes, he does bite.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
As possessive as Satan is he actually doesn't mind sharing you with only a few people.
The kings if he's in a good mood;
Sitri; but he can't touch you; he must sit and watch.
Amy; Sitri must also be there for free entertainment; Satan will happily stir the pot and let Amy touch or fuck you just to watch the Sitri seething in jealousy and anger.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Satan is a shower, not a grower; As pale as mayonnaise, when his cock is hard, his tip flares so red. It's kind of fun to watch.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
His yearning for sex grows with the wrath inside him. You guys can do the math.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Very rarely he will ever feel exhausted enough to fall asleep but usually you guys are doing it all the way till morning.
#smut#Satan definitely has rabies#whb#what in hell is bad#whb x reader#whb satan#whb satan x reader#wihib#what in “hell” is bad?
132 notes
·
View notes
Text
˗ˏˋ Entry : 059 - Lover! HSR Men x Fem! Reader: Period Cramps ♡ ˎˊ˗
꒰ Dan Heng, Aventurine, Caelus, Sunday ꒱
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕟𝕘 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
Dan Heng is actually a veteran in taking care of girls during their periods. Why? You have March 7th to thanks for that. His poor friend's cramps are hell so he stepped up to assist whenever he can if Himeko isn' present to soothe her.
So when it comes to you? It's no problem really, he even enjoys the fact that you're relying on him for this since it shows that you trust him entirely.
Does he track your period schedule? Definitely, he has a tracker installed in his phone that he always checks. Periods are tricky and he wants to know incase anything wrong comes your way.
A little overdevoted of him, but you're not complaining. Why would you?
He has everything prepared a week advanced before your period.
Heating pads? Check. Extra napkins? Check. Snacks? Check. Chocolates? Check. Medicine for cramps? Check. Plushies? Washed and ready.
"Is your stomach acting up? No?" Dan Heng asks as he secures the blanket over you after placing a heating pad on your belly.
"I hate being a girl..." You complain, curling up further beside him for comfort.
"I know, but just for a few more days, it'll be alright" He says, stroking your head lovingly. "How about a movie? There are a bunch of new movies I managed to download."
"Okay..."
You actually passed out halfways into the movie, which Dan heng of course predicted already since he had the lights in his room already turned off. He changed the heating pad on your stomach first before tucking himself back in.
"Goodnight," Dan heng mumbles, placing a peck on your forehead before pulling you in for a cuddle.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔸𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
"There we go" Aventurine gently settles you down on the bed after placing an extra towel on it. "Is that better, love?"
You nod, cuddling the teddy bear he bought you just because you're on your monthly hell.
Your period week is strictly a no-gambling and no-business-trips time for Aventurine. Even if his bosses and the other stonehearts decide to bug him into doing stuff.
He values your happiness and comfort above all else, even work. So to hell with them if the ipc blows up out of nowhere during your menstruation. Aventurine will just throw a middle finger at them and laugh at their misery.
Aventurine was so dedicated he spent hours reading books about periods and even goes so far to research good napkin brands that wont make you itch.
He wants nothing more than the highest of qualities for his beloved who is going through a lot just because a woman's body decided to evolve suffering like this. he even has some doctors on stand by just incase anything goes wrong.
Of course, we can't forget his philanthropic side— this peacock man needs to spend his money on you even for the littlest things. You'll be having brand new jewelry, cosmetics and perfumes coming in rapid succession for you as well as a barrage of kisses to go along with it.
"My poor princess, are you sure you don't need anything else?" He asks, kissing each and every one of your fingers. "Should I order some shortcakes for you? Or should I call the doctor to check on you?"
"Vasha... I'm not bedridden..." You say.
"I know, but I would rather not risk anything happening bad, so if anything hurts too much you must tell me" Aventurine simply smiles.
"Your kisses are more than enough"
"Who am I to say no to that?"
And with that, he dives in to pepper your precious and pretty face with pecks.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ ℂ𝕒𝕖𝕝𝕦𝕤 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
"Okay, everything is settled" Caelus nods to himself after making a makeshift pillow fort in his bed for you to snuggle in.
The plushies he had ordered just arrived in time with your menstrual cycle. He made sure to ask March 7th about this just to be sure too. He can't screw this up—
Yeah, he's acting like he's about to go through something major or something. What an idiot.
Your lovable idiot atleast.
"Cae? I'm back" You say, walking out of the bathroom after changing your napkin. "???"
"Ah... Well" Your boyfriend sheepishly scrtaches the back of his head as you glance at the makeshift fort he managed to make during your time in the bathroom. "I figured I should make a fort so we could snuggle up more?... I don't know"
"You're cute" You laugh, kissing his cheek before crawling into the fort he made. "I like the fort, maybe you should keep it"
"I'll order more pillows and a canopy for my bed then" He grins before going in after you. "I'm not really good at taking care of you, my bad"
"It's fine, just you being with me is more than enough and I'd much rather cuddle with you" You wrap your arms affectionately around his waist. "Just be you as usual, that's more than enough."
"I should be the one comforting you" Caelus pouts, rubbing your cheeks together just so he can elicit a sweet giggle from your lips. "If there is is anything I can do, please just tell me what you need and I'll do my best"
"You're really like a puppy" You muse, kissing his cheek lovingly.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
Just like Dan Heng, Sunday is a veteran at this. His mother died before his sister had her very first menstrual cycle. And although there were servants around to assist— he still took the initiative to help Robin himself because he was her brother.
The result of that? He's absolutely good at taking care of you during your period. Much like Dan Heng, he has a period tracker on his phone and prepares everything in advance the week before your period starts.
But of course, Sunday actually memorized your cycle dates, he just prefers to be more organized and to fouble(triple) check everything
It's much more important for him to be assured that eveything is ready.
"Not like that, you'll make your stomach hurt even more, dear" Sunday says, putting down the book he was reading and reaches out to rub firm but gentle circles around your tummy. "I know it's different for each woman, but this is the method I used on my sister when her cramps are bad. Is that better?"
"Yes..." You nod weakly, melting into his massages quickly. "You're really good at this"
"it's only because I took care of my baby sister a lot" Sunday replies, keeping his gentle pace to help ease your pain.
"Robin must miss you" You mumble.
"It's alright" He shook his head, smiling bitterly. "I miss her too, but one day we will reunite. But right now you're the main character. You need me since your cramps as especially bad during the first few days of your cycle."
"What did I even do to deserve you?" You whisper, slowly drifting off to sleep the further he massaged you.
Sunday wouldn't reply until you finally gave in to the call of sleep.
"I need you more than you need me" He finally says, replying to your unconcious state while pressing his lips on your forehead. "So let me do this, it's the least I can do since you never gave up on me"
꒰ 🪼 A/N: This one is a bad fic but I'm really deep in writer's block. I'll try to get it in my next one. For now please be patient with me qwq. I hope you guys understand huhu. I'll try to make more comprehensive and better fics:3 ꒱
ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .。✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.
#‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆— kyunnie's writings#aventurine honkai star rail#dan heng honkai star rail#sunday honkai star rail#caelus honkai star rail#caelus hsr#dan heng hsr#aventurine hsr#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#Aventurine x reader#Aventurine x you#Dan Heng x reader#Dan Heng x you#Aventurine x reader fluff#Dan Heng x reader fluff#Sunday x reader#sunday x you#sunday x reader fluff#caelus x reader#caelus x you#caelus x reader fluff#trailblazer x reader#Trailblazer x you#hsr x y/n#dan heng x y/n#aventurine x y/n#sunday x y/n#caelus x y/n
138 notes
·
View notes
Text
Deny! Deny! Deny! - Part I
Azriel x Priestess!Fem!OC
Azriel knows Thea is just as attracted to him as he is to her. He's content to only think about her when he's in bed and he's happy to know that she's doing the same. They can spar and meet up in the training ring secretly when they can't sleep. They can talk about sex and revenge and whatever they're reading at the moment like they're things two friends just discuss at the same time. Unfortunately, an external problem forces them to be confined in the House of Wind together, with only a certain Eris Vanserra as temporary company. So, naturally, he ruins everything. [4.5k words]
warnings: explicit sexual content from the very start, masturbation, azriel being a horny mf, various sexual fantasies, swearing
Prefer to read on Ao3?
Azriel’s at his desk in the House of Wind, working, reading reports and writing little notes to himself in red ink along the margins. It’s taking him twice as long to sort through the useful parts because he keeps letting his mind wander to what it he imagines it’s like to come in Thea’s mouth. His shadows are thoroughly banished to the corners of his office, since they tend to whisper things like: when she touches herself, she whispers your name, she needs you, she’s dripping just for you, shadowsinger, wants your tongue and your hands and your… in his ear and they aren’t supposed to be eavesdropping on her. In fact, he’s ordered them not to. Explicitly. Who or what Thea thinks about in bed is not his business and he doesn’t want it to be, even if it’s him.
Because it isn’t really him, it’s just a fantasy of what she thinks he’ll be like. Same way that when he thinks of her, it isn’t her. He doesn’t know what her moans sound like or how intoxicating her skin tastes or what pretty colour her nipples are. He’s content never to find out too. His imagination is good enough.
By the time Rhys pulls that thread in the back of his mind to let him know he wants to talk, he’s this close to coming in his trousers and nowhere near hitting the very high work quota that he sets himself.
Not a good time, Rhys, he says along the thread, and curses himself. He sounds breathy even in his head.
A dark chuckle comes back at him. Am I interrupting?
Technically, no, but Az is about to palm himself through his underwear until he spills with Thea’s name caught in his throat. When he does that, he’ll need time to clean himself up. He’s not walking into Rhys’ office smelling like he’s been in a pleasure hall in the middle of the day—though, it would get Rhys off his back about Elain finally, and then he half-considers the idea before he snaps himself out of it. So, he supposes, Rhys is interrupting, and Az isn’t available to him until he deals with his straining cock.
What do you want? he grits out, kind of like his teeth are stuck together.
Rhys hedges, his tone annoying, Just a friendly little chit-chat between brothers, nothing hugely importan—
You’re an asshole, Az deadpans, I’m not in the mood. The heat curling in his stomach is starting to burn. Shifting in his seat makes him tense just from the friction of the fabric moving against his skin. He’s a fool, he thinks, for not just taking a break and rubbing one out earlier to get his concentration back, but there’s something delicious about clamping his jaw shut so no one hears him groaning if they pass by the door while he gets himself off in here. Maybe Cassian’s right to call him a freak in bed. Or out of bed, as the case may be.
Just finish who you’re doing and meet me in the river house once you’ve had a bath, Rhys says. We’ve had an interesting proposal.
…Damn his curiosity.
From who? he asks.
For the moment his brother hesitates, Az thinks he’s going to fob him off and not tell him anything at all, but then, very carefully, Rhys says, That’ll definitely ruin your afternoon. And whoever it is you have with you. He lets out a huff of frustration that isn’t just because he’s been hard for twenty minutes now when Rhys retreats from the bond and leaves his head. Cryptic bullshit. Makes him anxious. Not great for maintaining a hard-on.
The irritation quickly disappears when he undoes the ties at his crotch and squeezes his cock the same way he thinks Thea will clench around him when she’s close. It’s languid and needy and he’s panting quietly at his fucking desk of all places while he smears the pre-cum thats leaking from his tip all over himself so it’s easier to tug just the way he likes it. He grips the edge of his desk when his wings start to twitch and tighten. His abs ache from the tension that keeps him from bucking up into his own hand; that’s just embarrassing. It’s probably a lewd sight, and the thought of Thea watching him whine is what gets him to come so hard on his stomach that he actually sees stars.
Bliss, that’s what he calls it. Euphoria is reserved for the real thing.
Thea being the subject of what gets him off doesn’t factor into the post-climax guilt he feels. She knows he thinks about her like this; she asked him one time up in the training ring, he answered honestly, and she didn’t tell him not to. She laughed at him for it, coyly, and he thinks about the sound of that too. So it’s fine.
What does get him to second-guess himself is the fact that both Rhys and Mor will skin him alive for thinking about a priestess like that, regardless of whether Thea likes it or not. They’re like that. Principles apply without context. That, and he’s made an utter mess of himself, and this particular shirt, pair of trousers, and boxers are now ruined.
A few minutes having been taken to just be, recovering, his shadows aren’t picky about taking him from this room to his bedroom, where he strips, throws his clothes on the floor (where the House vanishes them. He’s not sure he wants to know where it puts things like that), washes, and redresses himself all in the space of five minutes. They fuss at his shoulders, but know better than to start talking again. He’d sooner fly to the river house alone than listen to them spoil Thea’s preferences. Though a comfort, they’re unnecessarily involved in trying to provide him with more company than they can give. Feminine temptation, they know as well as he does, is an effective way to make him crack.
But not when it comes to Thea.
He lands in the back gardens of the river house where the edge of the land runs off into the Sidra. Rhys and Feyre have a little pier down here where, he doesn’t know, they fish with Nyx or something. It’s all very domestic. Perfect for a kid. He’s happy for them. Really, really happy for them. Sure, the bitter, acidic envy roiling in his chest says otherwise, but he’s not listening to that right now. Or ever, if he can help it.
He strolls in through the backdoor with his shadows curling around his figure softly, barely visible in the natural Summer sunlight that streams through the windows of the house. It’s good lighting for painting, Feyre had been telling him. The stairs up to Rhys’ office are short work, he takes them two at a time, and he passes by the portraits on the walls that he’s seen a hundred times in the same way he always does, in awe. Such detail in the brush marks that the ones he can see have to be deliberate, dragging the paint for a specific effect. Az doesn’t know enough about art to know if what Feyre does is common, but he knows what he likes, and he likes what his High Lady paints.
He knocks, but Rhys calls him in before he’s finished and the metallic taste of High Fae magic hits his tongue as the door flicks open of its own accord. Soft, perfect laughter wafts through the threshold before he can take another step, and now he considers if the Mother has been conspiring against him today, because he knows that laugh.
“Ah, decided to finally grace us with your presence, Az?” It’s Mor who’s talking, a bit impatiently, but Azriel’s still snagging on who’s sitting opposite Rhys, eyeing him over her shoulder while she puts down her tea with a clink.
It shouldn’t surprise him that Thea leaves the library sometimes. Her idiosyncrasies stretch further than that, he would assume. It doesn’t surprise him that she’s wearing that wrap of blue fabric that hugs her thighs and around her ankles so that it’s more of a bodysuit than a dress, despite the flowing silk which is draped around her shoulders. The way the light bounces off her terra-cotta skin and makes the bronze in her dark curls shimmer doesn’t shock him either—he’s entirely aware of the fact that she can rival Helion for looking like the sun personified at times, and he knows that sounds romantic but it isn’t. It’s factual. Completely objective.
However, the gold foil, very intentionally flecked on the apples of her cheeks in little scraps which follow the curve of her eyes like stars, that gets him. And now he has a new way to imagine her gasping for him. Why in the world has she done that and how in the hell does it frame her face so well?
…Bad thoughts. He’s blocking them out.
Her being in Rhys’ office, that is what he needs to focus on.
“I…” he starts as he falters into the room, ripping his gaze off of Thea before it can get suspicious and onto Mor, who’s lounging by the window which looks out into the city, “...was busy.” Neither she nor Rhys give him the usual sly, snide comments at the insinuation of that. He directs his question at his brother, letting himself glance at Thea only to nod at her in greeting, like he hasn’t just had a mind-blowing orgasm at the idea of her tittering at him when he whimpers for her, before he sits down in the chair next to her. “What’s going to ruin my afternoon?”
“This is.”
Rhys grimaces before Az turns to Thea. Between her index finger and her middle finger, she clasps a letter written on yellow-ish paper, its red seal already broken, and the page unfolded. She looks at him and tilts her head, a small smile quirking on her lips like she thinks this is funny, and he gently takes the letter from her hand. He ignores it when his fingers brush against hers.
When he sees what’s stamped on the seal, he feels his blood run cold: baying dogs amongst fire. The feeling doesn’t stop until he’s finished reading every single word that’s scrawled in that fucking handwriting on that fucking paper.
“This is addressed to you, Thea. Directly addressed to you,” he says, raking his eyes over the word Hemithea at the top of the page. If Az's familiarity with her strikes Rhys or Mor as odd, they don’t mention it, and he’s too hyperfocused on the letter to notice if they make faces or if their breathing changes. He snaps his head up to her and makes sure she’s looking at him before he asks, “Why is Eris Vanserra addressing letters about…?” He searches for the term on the paper.
“Dissociative stimulants?” she offers, but the look he gives her makes her go quiet and he realises he’s angry. Furious, even. It’s not the cold anger that he only lets Rhys see, not the icy rage that comes over him when he needs to release it. And it’s not with her, never, but with the situation, and he’s not doing a good job at pushing that at anything but her. There’s no fear on her face, thankfully, she just seems taken aback by the strength of his feeling about it. So is he, if he’s honest, but having his friend offer advice to one of his mortal enemies wasn’t what he had on the cards for today.
“Yes,” he bites out. “Those. Why is he asking you about those?”
“Azriel,” Rhys warns lowly. He slides his gaze over to his brother for a second, before it settles back on Thea and he waits.
“It’s fine,” she says to Rhys, waving him off, and then her sole attention is on him and Az can feel the wind get kicked out from under him as she fixes him still. “Eris—” hearing the prick’s name come out of her mouth puts him on edge, “—asked Rhys for information on a certain plant that his father has begun using, and Rhys directed him to me because that’s what I research—”
He cuts her off. “I know what you research, Thea.” Of course he does. He can sit and watch her smash training dummy after training dummy with her impeccable blade skills on those sleepless nights of theirs and happily listen to her talk about medicines and hallucinogens for hours on end. It’s not only useful for when he needs to apply a bit more pressure in the dungeons of the Hewn City, but it’s truly fascinating and the passion in her voice when she speaks is more soothing than any kind of tea Madja has ever given him for headaches. “Why are we providing Eris with access to our scholars?” Her face softens when he calls her that. Scholar. The sight relaxes him, but not enough.
“We aren’t,” Mor says firmly from behind him, still lounging and looking out of the window.
“Mor—” Thea begins, but Rhys stops her softly.
He addresses both Mor and Az plainly. “I want to know what Beron is doing beyond what Az’s spies can tell us.” It’s not meant as an insult, but it hurts like one, and Rhys sends him an apologetic look. Not a reflection on you, brother. Even Az knows that there are limits to what someone paid to betray their home Court is willing, or able, to provide. “If he’s found a substitute for faebane now that we’re inoculated, we need to be prepared. Eris is giving us information about that whether he thinks he is or not.”
Realisation dawns on Azriel so quickly he’s certain the rest of the room can feel it. He has to shut his jaw before it hangs open for too long. “You’re tricking him.”
Thea, again smiling at him, nods. “In a way, yes.”
Is that pride blooming in his chest?
“I’ve been plying him for as much information as I can get. Obviously, he knows we’re gaining from what he’s telling us, but he thinks the details I’m asking for are just out of curiosity.”
Then… why is this an issue?
He hadn’t said a word, but Mor answers his question anyway. “If you let him into the city,” she snaps, “he wins. You do get that, don’t you?” In her voice is the wet rage of a person who cares too much. It’s righteous rage, after everything that happened to her.
Wait.
Double take.
“Let him into the city? ” he snarls at Rhys, who’s watching for his reaction with a kind of impassive, neutral face.
Thea sighs beside him. “If we want to understand what it is this plant does,” she says coolly, “I need to see the physical effects of it on the body. Eris is capable of giving me that, and I’m not leaving Velaris to get it.”
The admission knocks him out of his anger so completely that his spiking shadows drop flat to the floor before they whirl up to his shoulders again. Gods, of course she won’t leave the city. Eris has to come to her. She’s a scholar, but a priestess too. The library is her sanctuary and he knows exactly what happened to her for it to have become that. Only he, Mor, and Rhys are aware of the story, Mor actively being the one to bring her to Velaris, and the other two don’t even know that Thea told him one night in the House of Wind. Leaving the library to come here is bravery enough; he’ll physically stop Mor pushing that boundary if he has to.
“Then get someone else to meet with him,” Mor says, and Az understands. Thea, knowing her, will too. It’s an unfair scenario, but he’s already shaking his head at the notion. No one else understands this substance like Thea does, and try as he might to comprehend all of the things she tells him, she’s the expert. The depth of her knowledge would take years to teach someone else so they could perform whatever study she needs to, and by then, Beron might be using this stimulant for something nefarious. They can’t have that.
“He’d stay in the House of Wind, Mor,” Rhys explains kindly. He too gets it, why she’s so irate about it. “He’s not getting anywhere close to the city.”
“Punt him off one of the balconies,” Thea says. “Let me strap him to a table and make him bleed for what he did to you, Mor.” The imagery of that, and Thea being the one to do it, pleases Az more than he cares to admit. “It doesn’t matter to me what happens to him, but only after I’ve wrung every last bit of information out of him. This—” she waves the letter in the air, “—scares me. If it does what I think it does, then we need to know how to combat it as fast as possible.”
Mor swallows, purses her lips, and returns to the window. Az can’t tell if that’s quiet acceptance of Eris’ presence, or angry acceptance of the fact that Rhys is going to let him into the city with or without her approval. Something about that sits uncomfortably in Azriel’s stomach. Willfully ignoring your second-in-command is a bold, if stupid, move.
“What do you think it does?” he asks, noting the real, shaking fear in the way Thea spoke. It’s not something he ever wants to hear again. Even Rhys sits back as he watches her take a breath.
“The classification of it: dissociative stimulant, tells you a lot,” she says. “It stimulates brain function. Makes you forget the limits your body puts your muscles under to stop you tearing yourself in half. Makes you more aggressive, heightens every basic instinct you have. And the dissociative part…”
“You’re out of your mind while it’s affecting you,” he finishes for her.
She makes a little hum of approval. Inappropriately, he stores the sound for a different context. “Hallucinations. Delusions. Totally abnormal emotional responses,” she continues. “Reading between the lines of what Eris says, it has a side effect of making a person more… malleable. Think being controlled by a daemati but you can give it to thousands and thousands of soldiers who won’t feel pain, don’t want to eat, and have no concept of their morals, all without breaking a sweat. Eris—he’s terrified of it.”
Sounds a lot like the Crown, he thinks absently.
Rhys must have caught the thought, because his voice rings in Az’s head. But far worse.
Does Feyre—?
A nod. Thea came here and explained everything to the two of us already. I thought she was going to break the front door off its hinges.
If this weren’t so serious, he’d laugh at the image. Thea went down the ten thousand steps and crossed the city for this, instead of trying to find him or Cassian and ask them to help her. Then again, if she had decided to get him, she’d have found him with his hand around his cock, probably sighing her name, so it’s for the best that she didn’t. Besides, it’s obvious to him that the exertion of the journey hasn’t affected her. She’s wide-eyed. Excited, even. It’s a strange thing to note.
He swallows thickly. Refocuses. He hates everything about this. He hates that Mor is the one who has to bear the brunt of it. He doesn’t want Eris within ten feet, no, ten miles of Thea, and Cassian… Logistically, it doesn’t seem possible. “Cassian will kill him before he even steps foot in the House of Wind. If Eris breathes near Nesta, it’s over before it begins,” he says.
Measured, detached, Rhys replies, “Neither of them will be in the House of Wind when he’s here.”
The plan, Azriel realises, has been set out before he’d even arrived, and he’s just walked Rhys and Thea through it the same way they probably formed it. Clever.
“And you want me to play chaperone,” he concludes, not bothering to ask it as a question. “Again.” Mor perks up at the word, but it’s for Rhys and him to know. “Fine.”
“Fine?” Rhys asks, almost splutters, like he was expecting more pushback.
But it is fine. It’s the only way any of this is fine. If he isn’t there, then Thea has no safety net, and no one would be around to keep Eris in his place. That fucker will try something, he feels it. He’s not about to give Eris unfettered access to her. That sounds like possessiveness, but it isn’t. While they might be training the priestesses in the House of Wind, and though Thea is the best of them, Eris has five-hundred-years of experience and the power of an heir to a Court. So, yeah, he nods, it’s fine. Not good, not okay. Fine.
To Thea, he asks, “How long do you think you’ll need?”
She shrugs. “A few days, maybe more. I don’t know.” At that, Mor huffs and stands abruptly, walking out without a word, and Thea winces. “That doesn’t feel great,” she says.
“She’ll get over it,” Rhys says carefully as he stares after where she’d disappeared behind the door. Thea offers him a weak smile, like she knows that’s a lie. For Mor, this is an unforgivable situation—but the fact that Feyre agreed to it so readily is a marker of how important it is; it’s probably driven a wedge between them. Family dinners are going to go back to being awkward.
“I think I need to go clear my head.” Thea stands, pushes herself up delicately with her fingers pressing into the leather arms of the chair. “I’ll write to Eris once I’m back at the library,” she tells Rhys.
“As soon as he—” Rhys starts, but Thea nods.
“I know the plan, Rhys,” she says. “I’ll see you soon.” And then she’s turning to Az and saying, “You still owe me from this morning.” Over the other side of the desk, Rhys’ eyebrows shoot up.
He owes her ten marks because he bet her that she couldn’t nick him in the neck when they sparred after general training was finished with earlier. Usually, when they practice swordplay, the goal for him isn’t to win, it’s to facilitate Thea practicing her skills and keep her reflexes honed. Her goal is, always, to land a hit that grazes his skin, because she’s the only priestess besides Gwyn who has the control to use a blade with a sharp edge. Training swords, he explained to her once, don’t hold the weight of the real thing. So, he ends every morning training session with another mark on himself, usually on his torso, or his arms, occasionally his thighs, but this time, he challenged her, and she rose to meet it. Illyrian healing has made the cut heal over already, but he and Thea know it’s there.
“Do it again tomorrow. Double or nothing,” he says, ignoring the look Rhys is giving him.
In response, Thea scoffs a laugh. “Deal,” she says, shaking her head at him. “See you later, Az.” She passes by him and her hand twitches like she’s going to run her hands through his hair. She's in the habit of doing that to annoy him, but it doesn't annoy him; he practically keens every time. She restrains herself for Rhys’ benefit and he doesn’t watch her go. When she leaves the room, Az lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.
The silence from his brother grates on him.
“Say whatever it is you want to say, Rhys,” he says calmly.
Rhys flicks his eyes between him and the door. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” Az glowers at him, and he sags back into his chair, the final bit of High Lord in him melting away. “I didn’t know you and Thea were…” He looks away, searching for the word. “...close,” is what he settles on—bitingly disapprovingly, but with some reluctance too.
“She’s my friend,” Az states, because it’s true. His shadows darken around his forearms.
“She’s a priestess,” Rhys says, and it reminds Az of a parent. Now Rhys is a father, he has that stern, paternal tone to him when he’s scolding them like children.
“So?”
He knows what Rhys is getting at, but, pettily, he wants him to say it. Wants him to admit that he thinks he’s incapable of keeping it in his pants.
However, Rhys so rarely gives Az what he wants these days, and changes the subject. The warning has been understood regardless.
“Who were you with earlier?” he asks, smirking. “Do we know her?”
Azriel folds his hands in his lap and crosses his legs. He’s never answered that question before, not even if Mor asked him, and he’s not about to start now. “I don’t need you meddling in my sex life, Rhys,” he says, thinking bitterly to himself that he doesn’t actually have one currently, and he has no plans to change it. It’s not that he can’t get one. He could go to Rita’s tonight, be flooded with offers from males and females alike, and he could easily have two at a time; he’s not naïve of that. He’s just not going to, especially since Rita’s makes him nauseous when he’s there alone.
“Forgive me for being curious,” he says. “Cassian tells me you haven’t taken a lover for years.”
Of course Cassian tells you that. Brotherly love extends a long way and it's the reason Azriel doesn’t wring Cass’ neck for being a busybody. “I don’t need Cassian meddling either.”
Rhys runs his tongue along his teeth and relents, throwing his hands up in surrender. “For what it’s worth,” he says, a feline grin gracing his face, “when you do get another lover, it’ll be gratifying to keep him and Nesta up all night in revenge, no?”
That makes Az exhale a little laugh despite himself, and Rhys clearly takes it as a victory. “Maybe,” he says, shrugging. “I was in the middle of something.” He still has a lot of work to do, and now his previous problem is dealt with, he can get back to being efficient about it.
“Go on,” Rhys says, nodding to the door. “Make sure Thea gets back safe, will you?” he adds, but the warning is back in his tone, as if to say do that and don’t dare do anything else.
On the flight back to the House of Wind, he sends his shadows to find her. She’s in The Rainbow, shopping, chatting with vendors. She doesn’t get back for another couple of hours, and he leaves her be while he works.
let me know if you want to be added to a taglist :)
#azriel#azriel x oc#azriel fanfic#azriel angst#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel smut#eris vanserra#azriel fic#azriel x you#azriel x reader
138 notes
·
View notes
Text
AS SAID BY BELLARA LUTARE - PARTY BANTER * assorted banter from dragon age: the veilguard
trouble ahead.
looks like we're doing this!
we're getting good at this!
let's try to keep quiet and not disturb that thing.
i can't believe this café is hidden inside all the crowds and chaos. i love it!
so many things you could buy. how do you choose?
what was there before? does anyone even remember?
everyone helped out.
you shouldn't worry at all.
wish we had a few of those.
it changes every day.
some get killed, some go missing. some just leave.
you don't see your family or friends?
you must miss them.
i sure didn't expect that.
is that really enough punishment?
i know him. knew him, i mean, when we were kids.
i wonder if there's a basement.
kinda weird, isn't it?
this... changes everything.
nice room you have here.
i can't believe it. we're meeting!
um... what should i call you?
i'll catch up on sleep later.
i have a question. about undead.
that's amazing! and really bad of course.
i think we should prove it.
it feels weird. different. from other magic.
i'm not sure i'd like that.
when i went out there, i could feel it. somewhere.
you won't believe what i found yesterday.
too bad we can't ask.
i'll remember not to ask about that.
what do you think of it?
i'm making progress!
it's mostly a survival thing.
oh, i heard about that.
that would be a nightmare!
i knew you'd catch that.
is this difficult for you?
how do you know literally everyone?
the world must be a little broken, but you can't just erase it to start over.
i was so careful! did i miss a spot?
i have some questions for you!
you both seem pretty happy about it.
you know what? i wish you could, too.
you don't have to answer if you don't want to.
you'd be surprised.
my father taught me about every deadly plant. mostly to keep me from eating them, i think.
i was wondering something.
thanks again for dinner last night.
there's a sequel? have you read it?
i took a lot of notes while you were away.
thank you. really. you're a good friend. a really, really good friend.
old habits die hard.
what kind of traps?
i shouldn't make it anyone else's problem.
#rp meme#mcflymemes#dragon age the veilguard#bellara lutare#rp prompt#rp memes#roleplay memes#rp starters#ask meme#roleplay prompt#ask memes#roleplay meme#roleplay inbox prompts#rp inbox meme#inbox prompt#inbox meme#sentence starter prompt#sentence starters#sentence starter
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sinners - heejake (+18)
Summary: just heejake fucking instead of attending their weekly mass.
gender: Smut, church boy, Delinquent, Degradation, BDSM, Knife Play, but there's no blood, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, ass eating, blowjob, Top Lee Heeseung (ENHYPEN), Bottom Sim Jaeyun | Jake (ENHYPEN), Face-Fucking, Troublemaker - Freeform
Ethan's family asked Jaeyun to take Ethan to the church in hopes of their son's change, but little did they know that Jaeyun hides something sinful beneath his angelic smile.
"Dad, what the actual fuck? I am not a kid for you to ask someone to look out for me!" Ethan shouted hysterically. Just the thought of someone guarding him irks him.
"I already told you that one more trouble and I'm gonna force you to change! I am a man of my words Ethan, and it's either you follow my orders or you'll end up with nothing on the streets." His Dad said sternly.
Ethan was left with no choice but to obey. He couldn't risk his great life. Also, it's just for 6 months, and after that, he could go back to making trouble again.
He flopped his body on his bed and closed his eyes. He's still annoyed from earlier, but there is a growing feeling of curiosity and excitement emerging in his chest.
"Who is that Jaeyun? And How is he supposed to help me? My parents are fucking crazy for thinking that a mere boy could change me to something better."
The next day came by so fast. Ethan was getting ready for Sunday's morning mass. There is a wrinkle in between his eyebrows as his hands harshly fix his necktie. He is wearing a powder blue button-down which is very unusual in his everyday outfit, which is any dark oversize tee and black ripped jeans.
"I look like a… good boy." He muttered as he grimaced at himself. He is not used to seeing himself like this: hair neatly brushed up, clothes well-ironed, and no excessive accessories hanging on his body.
He went down, and as he steps his foot towards their living room, the voices get louder and clearer. Ethan caught everyone's attention inside the room, including the pretty boy standing in front of their ancestral piano, which was owned by his late late late late late late grandfather.
"Oh My, Son! You looked good!" His mom said proudly; happiness danced in her orbs as she scanned her eyes on his only son.
"Ethan," his Dad called, "–this is Jaeyun, Jaeyun this is my son Ethan." His Dad pushed him gently towards Jaeyun, and Ethan couldn't help but be starstruck.
He never saw someone– particularly a guy– this pretty. Jaeyun is the total opposite of the normal Ethan; his whole being screams purity and decency– far from Ethan's impurity. His eyes scanned Jaeyun's divine features, from those dainty eyes that seemed to sparkle like those animated characters he watches online; those apple cheeks that are dusted with pinkish hues, and those saccharine smiles that took Ethan's breath away.
"Hello, my name's Jaeyun and I'll be your acquaintance for 6 months." even his voice is laced with purity. It is so endearing to Ethan's ears that he couldn't help but gape at the pretty boy standing timidly, arms tucked behind his back, in front of him as he gives Ethan the sweetest smile he has seen in his entire life.
"Enough with the introduction! You two will know more about each other in those six months. You guys can't miss the mass." his mother interrupted.
Ethan's parents guided the two to the door, his Dad whispering to his ears to drive slowly, and his Mom reminding him to act right and be kind to Jaeyun. Ethan only nodded to his parents' words as his mind was still clouded with Jaeyun's ethereal beauty.
"Ethan, listen to the priest's sermon."
"Yeah, Mom…" Ethan answered, his eyes rolling a bit.
The two hopped in the car. Jaeyun sat on the shotgun seat while Ethan sat in the driver's seat. None of them said something on the whole ride; they were just painfully silent throughout their way to the church. Jaeyun's fiddling his fingers as he waits for Ethan to park the car properly. He didn't waste a second getting out of the car once it was settled on the space because the tension inside was too much that he felt suffocated.
They sat in the backmost part of the church as to Ethan's request. He couldn't fathom sitting near the priest and the altar. Ethan was obviously ignorant the whole ceremony, contrasting with Jaeyun, who seems to know everything about the church.
Ethan sighed in relief when the mass ended. The both of them decided to wait till the waves of people who attended the ceremony abated. The growing tension between them once again suffocates Jaeyun, like a clamp squeezing his airway.
"The mass ended earlier than usual, we can have a cup of tea in my apartment if you want to," Jaeyun said hesitantly, afraid that Ethan would reject him, as they made their way towards the car.
"Sounds good," Ethan answered, which got Jaeyun's knees weak.
They arrived at Jaeyun's apartment after 40 minutes since Ethan doesn't know the way and he is driving very slowly. Jaeyun led Ethan to his living room and made the older sit on his two-seater couch as he prepared their tea.
The entire room was silent and the only sound that could be heard was the Black Oolong tea gushing out of the white teapot's nozzle. Before sitting beside Ethan, Jaeyun switched on his TV to lessen the awkwardness spreading around the four-cornered room. Because of their proximity, Jaeyun's captivating scent brushes his nostrils.
Even his smell is divine. Jaeyun smells like a whole-ass garden filled with fragrant flowers.
Ethan's lips slowly formed a smirk when he noticed Jaeyun's sideway glances. He had heeded the stolen gazes Jaeyun was giving him earlier, but he disregarded it. But it's piercing his soul, so, to confirm his assumptions, Ethan manspreaded and elevated his hips, showing the prominent bulge on his crotch (not because he's already hard, but because there is a monster hiding underneath the thin fabric of his pants). He let out an amused chuckle that caught Jaeyun's attention when he saw how Jaeyun's adam's apple bobbed up and down as he watched Ethan's move earlier.
He placed the tea cup on the table in front of them, creating a thud sound when the ceramic bottom of the cup met the wooden table.
"I can see you glancing, Jaeyunie, is there any problem?"
Jaeyunie… Jaeyunie… Jaeyunie
The nickname made his mind whirl. His breathing staggered as he noticed the playfulness laced in Ethan's voice.
He gets it. Jaeyun gets it.
And within a blink, Jaeyun switched into something– someone– that regaled Ethan.
Gone is the innocence in his eyes. Gone is the gentleness in his voice. Gone is the purity in his smile.
Everything about him is now entwined with sinfulness.
"You did so well earlier, Hyung. You listened obediently to the priest and I wanna make you feel good as my reward. D'you want that?" Jaeyun seductively said as he slowly crawled down towards the gap of Ethan's thighs.
Ethan was surprised. Who would've thought that the renowned angel in their town hides something filthy.
"Mhm. Let's see how good my reward is." After Ethan said that, Jaeyun scrambled in his place as he eagerly unbuckled Ethan's belt. His fingers held the waistband of Ethan's pants and boxers and pulled it down. His jaw fell as the long, girthy, and veiny cock of Ethan was displayed right in front of his eyes.
"Are you gonna suck it or– ugh." Ethan groaned midway as Jaeyun licked his rosy tip. His neck slacked on the headrest of the couch as Jaeyun continued playing the slit on his shaft.
He fondled his balls like those mushy toys you can buy in the market, along with the long strokes of his tongue on Ethan's cock. He is teasing the older with his warm tiny tongue, lips slightly tracing the thin skin. There is a sly smile on his face as he watches Ethan lose his mind. His eyes lingered on the vein on Ethan's slender neck as the older tried hard to control himself.
Jaeyun let out a gagging noise when Ethan pushed his cock all the way in his mouth, the tip poking the back of his throat. It was painful, but it's the kind of pain that Jaeyun would surrender again and again to. Ethan didn't let Jaeyun recover from the sudden push and just fucked the younger's mouth to his content, until there is white spurts of cum drizzling Jaeyun's throat.
"Fuck…" Ethan mutters along with an amused chuckle as he watches Jaeyun swallow every drop of his cum, not letting anything go into waste. "You did so good too, Angel. Do you perhaps want a reward too?"
And like an eager dog wanting to have a treat, he nodded his head hastily.
"Bend over the table, Angel." Jaeyun immediately followed and positioned half of his body above the wooden table as he perched his ass high up.
"Oh!" Jaeyun moaned when Ethan slapped his ass, red marks immediately appeared on his delicate skin.
Jaeyun dreamt about this every night for so long. He would play with himself all night, dreaming that it was Ethan giving him the pleasure; That it was his cock drilling his hole; not the pink dildo he bought in their neighboring city; that it was Ethan's mouth engulfing his pink bud and cock, that it was his fingers stretching his rim. Jaeyun would always go nuts whenever he heard one of his schoolmates bragging about how good and inhumane Ethan fucks.
He wants to experience that too.
And finally, after months of torture, he is here bent down on his coffee table as Ethan eat his ass.
"Right there!" he grumbled when Ethan's digits hit his spot, that got his mind into a whirlpool. Ethan's eyes turned into slits as he watch Jaeyun's pink hole clenched his thick fingers. He is so warm and tight inside that he could feel his cock go hard again under his boxers.
That wasn't the end of their obscenity because it just got progressively worse as days passed by.
Just like now, instead of attending the mass like what they're supposed to do, they're here in Jaeyun's fluffy mattress instead. There are series of groans and moans coming out of Jaeyun's luscious lips as Ethan fuck his hole with his thick and long digits, while there are black leather straps looped all over Jaeyun's body, stopping the younger from moving and touching Ethan.
Even though Jaeyun isn't untarnished as what people think he is, he still feels guilty sometimes, but the guilt can't stop him when Ethan is like a blazing ball of fire and Jaeyun is a weak moth that is drawn to his heat.
He keeps succumbing to him.
Ethan is fucking his hole mercilessly making him moan in deep pleasure, but it's not enough. He feels full but not full enough. He wants Ethan to stretch his rim with his girthy shaft– but the older kept teasing him even though he asked– begged nicely.
His eyes fluttered open when he felt Ethan stand up on the bed. He wanted to protest, but he couldn't wait any longer. The man walked over to his pants and grabbed something inside. That thing seemed to glow under the dim light of Jaeyun's room, and his breath hitched when he saw what Ethan grabbed in his pants. His chest heaves up and down as another bolt of excitement and desire crawled in his mind and body.
He stayed silent as he laid pliant on his bed, patiently waiting for what Ethan will do next. But he is never ready for Ethan's schemes. Never. He let out a loud yelp when Ethan removed the leather coiled all over his body and slapped it multiple times on his scorching skin. Jaeyun’s body writhed underneath Ethan from the delicious pain. His jaw dropped open as a long-drawn-out moan escaped his throat when a cold, hard thing entered his slicked hole. Ethan was slowly thrusting it, waiting for Jaeyun's response, but when the younger continued to moan, Ethan did not hesitate anymore. Jaeyun watched as Ethan fucked his wet cavern with the handle of his stainless steel pocket knife. His eyes rolled at the back of his head when Ethan angled it up, hitting his sweet spot, abusing it again and again.
"W-Wanna… come– please!" Jaeyun gritted, tears streaming down his pink cheeks.
"What is it, angel? Tell me what you want me to do." Ethan smirked, still thrusting the knife into Jaeyun's hole.
"I want to come, E-Ethan. Please t-touch me… fuck me… h-hard." he managed to say along with the hard thrusts of the knife in him.
"The angel wants to be fucked so bad?" Ethan mockingly asked which Jaeyun answered with chants of Yes! Yes! Yes! "On your knees you needy, slutty bitch." Ethan growled.
As much as he wants to further tease the younger under him, he can feel his cock painfully twitching in anticipation.
Another moan came out of Jaeyun's throat as Ethan parted his cheeks to have a better view of his slicked pink hole, stretched and ready to accommodate Ethan's monster cock. Jaeyun shuddered under the older when he stroked his rim, applying pressure that got Jaeyun's mind numb. He is so sensitive from all the foreplay Ethan did to him that a slight touch from either his hole or cock could make him reach his climax already.
His head sunk between his shoulder blades when Ethan placed his cock on top of his hole, dragging it up and down, creating friction between their heated sex.
"Please, Ethan, fuck me," he begged, voice trembling from too much stimulation.
"Alright then, since you've asked nicely and you've been an obedient and patient slut for me."
Ethan slammed every inch of his cock in a blink into Jaeyun's hole, forcing a scream of pleasure out of the younger. Ethan sucked in a breath as he felt the warmth of Jaeyun's while the younger's a moaning mess from the feeling of fullness.
Jaeyun could feel himself reaching his climax, but before he could beg Ethan to let him reach his high, the younger blurted out something that literally made his visions turn white.
"You're so loud, Jaeyunie. Do you want your neighbors to know that their angel is getting a good fuck right now, Huh?"
He wanted to answer Ethan with a loud yes, but he couldn't form a sentence in his state. He is so fucked up that half of his body is laying flatly on his mattress. If not only because of Ethan's palm gripping the sides of his hips, the other half of his body would surely surrender too. Jaeyun's hole clenched Ethan when the older fastened his pace, drilling his hole with animalistic thrusts.
"You like that, angel? You like my cock hitting your spot repeatedly as I fuck your brains out?"
"Y-Yeah… h-harder please!" Jaeyun pants, beads of tears forming in his eyes.
Ethan withdraws his cock and changes their position so he can better see Jaeyun. He wasn't disappointed at the view served to him. Ethan mutters a low thank you (not audible enough for Jaeyun to hear) to his parents for bringing this beautiful man into his life.
"Go on… act like the fucking cockslut that you are." Ethan said as he watched Jaeyun lose his mind, tongue lolled out, spit dripping down his chin, and eyes crossed from too much pleasure.
Jaeyun looked through his long lashes and his skin burned at the sight of Ethan watching their bodies connect while his mouth is open as it retreats series of moans, his veiny hands gripping Jaeyun's milky thighs, and his chest heaving up and down. He doesn't slow down the drilling of his hips, abusing Jaeyun's spot. The younger couldn't do anything aside from moaning. His brain is so fucked up that all he could see is white, that all he could feel was the undying pleasure that Ethan is giving him. The older angled his hips up and hung Jaeyun's legs on his shoulder as he thrusted deeper so the both of them could feel the most pleasure from connecting their bodies.
Not long after, Jaeyun screamed Ethan's name as he came along with Ethan. The cum painting his insides made it more pleasurable for Jaeyun. He felt so full and stuffed that he didn't want Ethan to withdraw his cock.
This was one of the most intense orgasms both of them had.
"Holy shit. Angel, that was so good." were the last words Jaeyun heard before he passed out.
Because they never did it slow, always rough and fast, Ethan prepared ointments beforehand to treat Jaeyun's rim and wounds as the younger succumbed to deep slumber. Unlike earlier, he is moving so gently to not wake Jaeyun up. He's been so rough today and he doesn't want to interrupt his rest.
"Sleep well, Angel. You did so good today." Ethan whispered to the younger's ears as he cuddled the man tighter while peppering his temples with sweet kisses.
Taglist: @fancypeacepersona , @acousarah
#kpop icons#kpop layouts#kpop moodboard#kpop users#spotify#enhypen icons#kpop bios#cute symbols#enhypen wallpaper#moodboard kpop#heejake#heeseung#heeseung icons#jake icons#enhypen jake#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#jake smut
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay I have work to do but I keep thinking about this plot bunny instead so I'm just gonna write it out. I'm not actually gonna write the fic cos if imma write amnesia I'll do my og story that I'm working on, but I reckon that story idea is what made this one come up in my head
Anyway, enjoy a synopsis
Basically, background is mirror Spock forced a permanent bond with McCoy when he went so hard so fast on the mind meld. When McCoy came back, this bond translated to basically an unconsummated marriage bond with Spock.
Spock clocked this immediately of course and once he found out what happened he quietly went about closing his access to McCoy's mind. Never told McCoy, cos it's not gonna come up. And he just politely doesn't use the bond. It's shut
Until! This fic starts with Spock being drugged maybe I guess and he loses his memory. Maybe he remembers his life up to a point, but certainly no starfleet memories. Actually yeah that's juicy cos then he's like why the fuck am I working for humans?? Anyway
Memory loss, going drugged rather than hurt so that it can fix up easily enough when his lover works through the toxin and also so that there's some period of time before he wakes where the barriers he put in their bond fail
So Spock wakes up and has a meeting with Jim about who he is, where his loyalties are, and if he can do his job. And the whole time he's got this corner of his mind that's just rushing with complex, out of place emotions.
He steadily figures out it's a bond, but he doesn't know who to. And he can't access the bond well, it's not consummated! Jim ends up getting worried and calls McCoy up and McCoy's all pissed off cos he's mid surgery and snarky and Spock's like okay so I'm not married to the captain or the doctor because the emotions I'm getting are like concern and love and neither are showing that. One's professional, one's angry.
Spock ends up meditating and manages to prod his spouse through the bond. He does this a few times until they get a call to the bridge that McCoy's not well so he and Jim go down and McCoy's like something it WRONG with MY BRAIN I don't wanna lose my memories like Spock has, he's a useless fucker now
And Spock's like. This guy is insulting me but the only emotion I'm getting is grief and panic. Guess the brain thing isn't me poking the bond
So he pokes it again and nope definitely McCoy, and he's not happy about it. So Spock explains himself
Unfortunately saying, "the latent marriage bond between doctor McCoy and myself if the cause of his acute medical distress" isn't an explanation that goes over well
So there's another meeting, this time with McCoy pacing around the table as Jim tries to mediate. And Spock keeps announcing what McCoy's feeling even when he's acting differently. It takes four times before McCoy's performed anger actually matches his feelings, which Spock announces, which makes Jim laugh
Anyway it is what it is. Spock and McCoy finally managed to have a genuine talk after work, while McCoy has a bourbon in hand, and McCoy really insists they're not together and he doesn't know where this bond has come from. His Spock never said anything about it
And Spock's like I'm the same man and I said something three hours ago. And McCoy throws a book at him, but all the feeling Spock gets is immense fondness. So he comments on that. And McCoy is suddenly very sad
It's confusing. Spock is dizzy. He kisses McCoy because he feels like he ought to and McCoy kicks him out
Two days later, and many enormously complex feelings in his brain but very little interaction with McCoy to compare them to, Spock gets his memories back
😬
He apologises to McCoy for this kiss. McCoy is more pissed off about the bond. Spock can tell that's not true, but he's better at pretending not to know what McCoy really feels. So he explains the bond thing and that he can as good as close it off
McCoy tells him to close it. Spock admits he can tell that it's not what McCoy really wants. McCoy goes apoplectic. Spock offers to teach him to use it. McCoy leaves
Spock is meditating to close the bond when it shakes, like a spider web catching a furious fly. It's a wonderful feeling, his spouse interacting with their bond for the first time. So Spock opens himself to it and lets McCoy explore
He doesn't explore long. And he's pretty rough and fumbly about it. Whacks the spider web a couple times then leaves. Spock enjoys it anyway
Spock goes to visit once McCoy stops and McCoy's very defensive about it all, even more so when he finds out Spock really doesn't mind. Spock shows him where the connection is and how to reach out to it
McCoy takes to it like a duck to water. They argue that night but it's different, the words dance along the surface of the lake while they swirl together beneath, tides and currents pulling at each other. McCoy's emotions change on a dime, constantly fighting. And it's all there, respect, hate, attraction, disregard, humour, adoration.
Sometimes without warning McCoy will laugh, then admit the conflict between what Spock feels and says is fascinating to him. He loves to see it. He loves learning now how Spock sees the world
And at one point, for just a moment, McCoy seems to love him. Spock knows it's not real, and McCoy emotions are all over the place, but still he feels the thrum of love, then the tone changes dramatically
Because McCoy felt Spock's like for him. Deeper than friendship, more obsessive than colleagues, more physical than brothers.
So Spock promises to close the connection. McCoy admits to some of the same feelings, but Spock knew that. McCoy feels everything all the time, there's no consistency in him. If he wanted, truly and genuinely, then Spock would know about it. He knows at best McCoy is erratic
Then McCoy says something about hate being next to love, and they're kissing again. And this time McCoy doesn't ask him to leave
Spock does forget to warn McCoy that consummation will scale up the bond and oh boy McCoy is pissed off in the morning. Genuinely pissed off too, and Spock can tell
41 notes
·
View notes
Note
heyy I saw that your requests are open and I want to request how would the (yandere?) housewardens react to a darling/yuu that over time surpasses them? even tho theyre magicless and good at keeping it under wraps until perhaps when their grades are posted on the board..? like they appear to be chill and hang around friends but behind that they work hard and somewhat manage to be like the smartest in NRC🤭 I hope this you havent done this one yet and hope you have a nice dayy💕🩵 tyy
.。*♡゚ Riddle is annoyed but satisfied in a way. Nobody ever put effort into their study and other skills so seeing you work yourself that hard, makes him a little proud. Though he thinks to himself how he is the example, he should be the one on the first spot always, you could take the second spot on the podium. So he starts to overwork himself to surpass you and put an incredible distance between both of you.
.。*♡゚ Leona doesn't care. You're smart. So what? Reputation and being the model student isn't something he cares about. He didn't even want to be here in the first place, yet he just can't go home and is trapped here. Though he resigned himself to merely hearing you yap happily about the topics you studied and how proud you are of yourself. You're like an annoying cat to him, one he sighs and pat its head.
.。*♡゚Azul is enraged that he lost a target. He was crafting such a wonderful contract, with some twisted lines and hidden meanings, but now there you go studying so hard that you surpassed him. He could congratulate you on that, but he won't. Better than this, he'll send the tweels to teach you a little lesson and with that, he'll make you sign the deal. You can't be better than him, never!
.。*♡゚Kalim is happy and proud. He beams like the sun as he congratule you - it's not that hard to surpass him, actually. It's hard to surpass Jamil, though. Either way, Kalim throws a party at every accomplish you have, praising you on every single little thing.
.。*♡゚Vil is satisfied. He, like Riddle, likes when people work and polish themselves to be better, yet he takes matters into his own hands if you start to overwork yourself, skipping meals and not sleeping enough. You surpassed himself by your own merit, and he is proud of you for it, so don't go drop your grades now. He is holding you to high expectations.
.。*♡゚Idia admires you. In a way, you're almost next to his level - really, he tries to put his effort on this, but everything is so easy that he just can't pay attention to any of this. He is smart but doesn't care about his grades or anything. He just wants the comfort of his room and games, and also you.
.。*♡゚ Malleus is impressed by your grades and applauds you on it. Though you couldn't never surpass him, he is far older and powerful for anyone, even you, to surpass him. But he is happy to pretend, happy that you are happy, overall just overjoyed that you're spending time with him to tell him about the things you read, and how you're going to put even more effort on your studies and club.
#yandere twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#riddle x mc#riddle x yuu#malleus x mc#malleus x yuu#azul x yuu#azul x mc#leona x mc#leona x yuu#vil x yuu#vil x mc#idia x yuu#idia x mc#kalim x mc#kalim x yuu#tw yandere
33 notes
·
View notes
Note
Another girlfriend would gently suggest that maybe it is time for Sylus's darling kitten to move out. The attachments they have to each other aren't healthy, and they make /her/ uncomfortable. How dare she even think that she has enough of a say in his life to even suggest such a thing? Trying to make him cast out his precious kitten when she needs him to keep her safe and happy? That relationship didn't even get to upset his darling because he dropped her like a box of rocks.
How could he tell his kitten no when she came to him for reassurance? How could he tell her no when all she needed was to rub her pretty little cunt against him to make her feel better? How could he tell her no when she crawled into his bed in the middle of the night with her lacey little shorts and no shirt demanding to be held? He couldn't. He would be a bad father if he did. Sylus was a lot of things, but a bad father would never be one of them.
There they are, all snuggled up while he reads. She is 'stealing' sips of his cherry wine and listening to the pages flip. She had made up her mind and slid from his lap to kneel between his knees. She had never been brave enough to do it before, but now she was determined to show him that she could be his one and only girl. No more of these nobodies trying to take what is hers. She'd gently remove him from his boxers, and Sylus swears he could have busted on her face right then and there as her soft pink tongue glided up his shaft and rubbed at that little magic spot behind the head. He didn't. He is a good dad and wants her to explore in a 'safe' environment. It doesn't take long, though, as she starts to get a rhythm, he is so big and she is so small though that she can't even take half of his cock in her mouth before gagging, but the view with pink streaked saliva and her innocent eyes looking up at him for approval has him hanging in by a threat as he groans and praised her for how good she is doing hand ontop of her head as he pets her like the good kitten she is.
-🐱
🐱 anon you are feeding me like thank you so much??? i am always sat for these. also i feel like his kitten is either clumsy or bratty no in between so she'll do this thing where her teeth would lightly press against that sensitive spot or graze it when she's sucking him off and he'd see stars. head thrown back and teeth gritted as he hisses. she'll like it because first of all her dad looks so insanely hot doing all of that and second because his fingers would tighten in her hair all sweetly. he might even start to be a tad rougher or meaner (subconsciously of course, he'd never hurt her). he'd start pushing her face down for longer and chide her for being too naughty. but in all honesty, dad!sylus is definitely cumming harder when his kitten bites down lightly around his cock head, throbbing and spurting onto her tongue as his hips shudder a little.
bonus points if she swallows clean. he'll stroke her hair and stroke away the drool with his thumbs with literally the most affection filled eyes as he tells her what a good job her dick sucking was 🤤
25 notes
·
View notes
Note
Eren Yeager with prompts 1, 6, and 46, please!
The plot may be Eren fighting with his Darling one last time about his decision about the Rumbling. He promises he'll be back with them once he finishes what needs to be done and an argument starts between them where the already unhappy Darling tries to knock the last bit of sense into him before Eren goes off to finish what he's started. I'll leave the rest to you, thank you! :)
I think I've seen enough of Season 4 to write this? Let's see how this goes.
Yandere! Eren Yeager Prompts 1, 6, 46
"I'd burn this world and everything in it for you."
"A good partner must be willing to make sacrifices for their beloved! Don't you agree?"
"Even monsters can love, can't they...?"
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Overprotective behavior, Mass murder implied, Isolation/Imprisonment implied, Forced kiss, Dubious relationship.
"There has to be another way, you can't be serious, Eren!" You plead to the man in front of you, watching as he leans against the wall on the far end of the room.
"Why do you have so much sympathy for them?" Eren states coldly, tone even with not much emotion. "They're sending people to kill us on this island... I'm doing what's best for us."
The Rumbling had been an idea tossed around for a while now. It had been talked about along with the Founding Titan for various reasons. You thought Eren would simply go along with making Eldians infertile with Zeke...
Yet it seems he's decided to go with the more destructive option.
"It's not right..." You try to argue but Eren, your boyfriend, shushes you with an unamused look.
"This isn't about what's right. They don't care about the Eldians." Eren continues, stepping closer. "Did you forget about how much our friends mean to me... how much you mean to me?"
You feel the man in front of you cup your cheeks, cold blue eyes staring into your own. You freeze when he touches you but reluctantly melt into it. It's been a while since you've had such affection...
Mostly because your relationship with Eren has been rocky the last four years.
"I'm mostly doing this for you, know that?" Eren whispers, breath ghosting over your face. "I want to make this place somewhere safe for us. I don't plan on coming back to you until I achieve that."
"Eren, please, Zeke's plan—" Eren's grip suddenly tightens.
"I don't care what Zeke thinks... You shouldn't either. All you need to know is I'm doing this for you... No one can hurt you if I do this. You and I can finally be happy, know that?"
You feel Eren let go only to pull you into a hug. You struggle, still uncomfortable with the idea of your boyfriend committing mass murder. You still want to think there's ways to make peace with Marley without wiping them out....
Eren could care less about them... not when he has someone like you to care for and keep to himself.
"I'd burn this world and everything in it for you." Eren admits, whispering gently into your neck as he holds you close. You can tell he's manipulating you. After all... He hasn't been this affectionate in weeks since going to Marley. "You're all that matters to me. You always have been."
"Eren... Please just listen... The others are coming up with ideas, I'm sure of it. I can't go along with this...!" You continue to plead, but Eren merely pulls back to look at you in the eyes again.
You can see disappointment and irritation there.
"... I'd kill for you." Eren admits, holding you tight. "In fact, I already have. I've dedicated myself to you so much that no one else matters anymore."
Eren tilts your chin up, his other arm firmly wrapped around your waist.
"A good partner must be willing to make sacrifices for their beloved. Don't you agree?" Eren whispers, ghosting over your lips as though he wants to kiss you. "Can't you see I love you? That you're my motivation... That I'd be willing to destroy this world for you just to give you a happy ending?"
Eren's words made you push against him. He acted like The Rumbling was going to be some romantic gesture to you. He acted like killing millions to 'protect' you was right because you're the only thing that matters to him.
He was too far gone, he probably already was after the Titans were dealt with...
You wonder if what he says is true... If he's really killed for you in the past... and if that even matters now considering what he's planning to do next.
"Get away from me—!" You bark, scrambling out of his hold. Eren watches you blankly, as if just observing what you plan to do next. You then glare in response.
"Eren, I can't do this anymore. I can't love you anymore!" You confess, briefly noticing the tension in Eren's body as he watches you. "You're a monster!"
"A monster?" Eren murmurs, you hate how he seems so casual. "I'm a monster to you?"
"Yes!" You cry, unsure how to sway him from his decision. You thought this would work... breaking it off should snap him out of it...
Yet of course, it didn't matter.
"Fine." Eren answers, stalking closer. "I'm a monster, I accept that."
You make a strangled noise when Eren pins you to the wall of the room. You claw at his wrist when he lightly squeezes your neck. It isn't tight... but it allows him to lean close.
"Even monsters can love, can't they...?" Eren whispers in your ear, keeping you stuck against him. "After all, I know you still love me. There's nowhere else to go, no one else who will dedicate themselves to you like me..."
Eren leans closer, a smug grin on his face.
"No one would level villages or continents just to keep you safe. You'd be miserable with anyone else but me. I'm all you have, I'm all that matters... The Rumbling will happen..." Eren continues, lips grazing against yours.
"... and I'll do it in your name." Eren then kisses you. You struggle against him but he prevents it from happening. By the time he pulls away you spit in his face...
He just laughs.
"Do me a favor and be good while I'm gone, alright?" Eren hums before letting you go. It's then Eren goes to walk away but you try to follow.
"Eren, no, don't do this...!" You cry, Eren ignores you.
"I'll have Mikasa and Armin watch you while I'm gone..." Eren replied, turning to look at you as he puts a hand on the door.
"You better have an apology ready for me when I come back, sweetheart."
It's then Eren shuts the door and you swear you hear it lock...
Leaving you with the knowledge, guilt, and regret that you couldn't stop Eren... along with the dread of what will happen when he's back....
#yandere attack on titan#yandere aot#yandere shingeki no kyojin#yandere snk#yandere eren yeager#yandere eren
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
could've been ~ l.m
"People change, it's up to them"
Description: In which you and Minho have an awkward conversation after the two of you broke up.
Word Count: 2K
Author's note: I was going to originally write this for Felix, but Lee Know kept coming in my head. So I said screw it, we're making this a Minho one shot. I hope you like it!
Additional note: college au, ex's, memories, 2nd pov ('you' format). Minho's a bit mean if that counts as a warning? Not necessarily a happy ending, but still content enough.
Hope you enjoy reading! <3
People changed all the time. It was a part of life.
This was the reminder you played over and over in your head as you made your bed that morning. Everyday was feeling numb and the same. You woke up at around 7 to the sound of your alarm. You took a shower and brushed your teeth. You got dressed. If you had an appetite you would usually make toast and have orange slices on the side. If it was like a day like today where you felt more numb that usual, you grabbed a protein shake and left the kitchen. You'd be out the house before your parents were awake, on your way to work, which you had to be in by 8:30.
You put music in your ears. Nothing like classic R&B or sad songs you loved, but something upbeat like pop or rap that would try to distract you from how you were truly feeling. Because if you were to listen to what you were really feeling there'd be problems and you couldn't afford that. Not when you were at least trying to get better and move on.
But the music choice would be good, you concluded as you turned up the volume. You also worked at the front counter at the campus gym. The place was upbeat anyway.
It wasn't until you arrived at the gym did you feel a harsh cold wind. Your hands flew to your arms as you hugged yourself, looking around in confusion. It was the start of spring, a chill day in April and yet you felt like you were trapped in a freezer.
You spotted Rob, one of your co-workers. He was nice, about a decade older than you, and the one that first helped you during your first few days at work.
"The air condition can't turn off. It's been on overnight at high." Rob told you. You noticed fog escaped his breath.
"Did you call someone?" You asked.
"Yeah, the HVAC technician should be here in an hour. The gym itself is not as cold, but I'm heading to a meeting upstairs and someone needs to stay at front desk while I'm out." Rob said. He shot an apologetic look, but you shook your head.
"It's fine, I can stay here I'll just-"
You stopped talking as a lightbulb went over your head. Your dad was a professor at the same college you attended and worked at, and he would be teaching a morning class. His class didn't start until 9, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go by now. So you had an idea.
You looked at Rob as you got out your phone. "I'll be fine. I'm going to ask my dad if he can drop off a hoodie for me." You said.
Rob nodded. "Okay, thanks a bunch." He gave a final smile before he left and headed up the stairs.
You let out a shaky breath, your fingers cold as you typed. It was ridiculously cold and you absolutely needed to feel warmth immediately. The worse part of the whole thing was that you had a weak immune system. Anytime there were weather changes you had to be extra careful and take precaution so that you wouldn't be sick. And it would happen. You would always get the flu or something, but you didn't want to get it this time.
You varied between pacing behind the desk, putting your hands in your jean pockets, and hugging yourself. You felt goosebumps on your forearms and your teeth were slightly chartering.
Who in their right mind turned the air conditioner to the highest level anyway? It wasn't even a scorching day in August yet?
The usual Monday crowd strolled in. They signed in, made little small talk, and then headed straight to the weights. You tried to be as professional as you could, remaining focused on your work as you signed each person in. Maybe the cold helped with that for a bit, but it wasn't until a guy who came in with iced coffee or headphones around his ears did it make you think of someone.
When you were by yourself, you looked ahead, trying not to think about what would cloud your mind but you knew it would come eventually. Everything reminded you of him, but this place was a literal gym, if not THE gym he used to go to.
Now you weren't even sure where he'd go.
You took a deep breath, drumming the table as you closed your eyes and tilted your head just enough for your neck to crack. Satisfied, you did it on the other side too. There was no better feeling than to release unwanted stress and tension.
The door suddenly opened, and the warm air made you open your eyes. You smiled when you saw your dad in his classic suit and suitcase come in. You checked the time on your computer screen.
"You're here early." You commented. He would usually come about an hour later.
"I know, but when you say there's a broken air conditioning and they left you here to freeze in a t-shirt? That's not happening on my watch." He said, walking over to give you a side hug.
He felt your arm. "You're a block of ice!" He said shocked. You had to giggle at his concern.
"I grabbed the biggest hoodie I could find. It was in your closet." He said, handing you a grey hoodie that was slung over his shoulder.
You blinked, staring at it for a second as you slowly took it from his hands.
"Alright, I'm going to go over my lecture. You're all good now, right?" Your dad asked.
You nodded. "Yes. Thanks, dad."
He left the gym, shuddering as he opened the door. He turned and pointed to you on his way out. "Wear the hoodie immediately!" He yelled.
"Okay!" You said, shooting a thumbs up.
When the door closed, you sighed. You could feel the fabric, or check the design, or even smell the piece of clothing. But you didn't have to.
Because you still, even after all this time of distance, knew it wasn't your hoodie. It was Minho's.
You ran fingers through your hair as you sighed, looking at the grey oversized hoodie that was placed on the counter. How could have still had this? You thought you gave everything back.
But it had been months. Two months and seven days exactly (though who's counting?). Couldn't Minho have noticed on of his hoodies missing and asked for it back?
You sat in the stool now, still staring at what was once your blanket of memories. It wasn't your dad's fault, he didn't realized what he grabbed. The poor man probably read your text and ran without a second thought. He knew the breakup was hard, he would have never took Minho's hoodie for you to wear intentionally.
But here you were, now faced with this reality. You still had this one hoodie in your closet. And now you were freezing. You considered the options. You could wait until the technician guy came in, and just freeze for one more hour. By that point your fingers would go completely numb. But would it be worth it? What would be the point of that? If you were freezing, and there was a hoodie that was right in front of you, no one in their good mind would reject that.
But would they reject it if it was from their ex?
You let out a sigh but knew what you had to do. It was either your health, or nothing. It wasn't worth it to get sick just because you didn't use what would help you right there in the moment, even it was Minho's.
You took the hoodie that was starting to be chilly itself and then brought it over you to wear. An action you've done so many times, but you never thought there'd be a day when it caused you pain.
Once it was worn you suddenly remembered that it was a custom made hoodie that one of his friends got for his birthday. In small but still visible cursive print on the left side read the letters L. M.
You were now after breaking up with him, wearing his initials again.
This. Was. Torturous.
You put the hood of the hoodie over your head and pulled down the sleeves just slightly so you could continue working with sweater paws. You were grateful now that you were shivering anymore, and whatever feeling of soreness that wanted to start in your throat was now coming down. You knew it was way better to save your health. The technician would be here soon and you could take the hoodie off.
The busyness of the job came in shifts. One moment it would be slow, then out of nowhere, a while wave of people would come in. Each of the conversations were similar. They asked about the cold, you told them about the problem, they asked if the gym was closed, you told them they could still work out and the gym itself was fine. After the current wave you just passed (which dealt with way too much energy for a 9am) you finally had a chance to sit down. You mindlessly rested your head against the desk, wanting to be still for a moment. But after a few seconds your head jolted up.
The hoodie still smelled like him.
It was ridiculous. Maybe you were paranoid. You had washed this hoodie several times, how could you have smelled his scent?
You missed it. The natural one. You liked his cologne as well of course, but it was the snug moments where if you cuddled on the couch, and if you were wearing his clothes and he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly, you would be surrounded by a fresh dove springtime smell. It immediately gave you the memories and you tried to now look at the computer, then down to the view of the gym, anything to get your kind off of it.
You weren't struggling as much as you once were, when the breakup was still a few days old. You weren't necessarily going to lie and say you were happy and all better, but you were just numb now. Numb to the feelings, and also numb to the memories. But now, as you sat in your ex boyfriend's hoodie, it was playing a bunch of tricks on your brain. Suddenly you were back there in the cold days. Suddenly you were back to falling asleep in his arms. Suddenly you were back to library dates with coffee. Suddenly you were back to watching his morning runs.
You shook your head and glanced at the clock. Just one more hour. Then you could take the stupid thing off.
Long minutes passed by but you were getting through your morning until the door chimed and opened once again. You looked up and instantly felt your heart drop.
Minho's friends from his dance club came through the door, and it wasn't long until you saw him in a black hoodie on top of cargo pants. His brown hair long and styled in a way that made you hate how good you thought he looked. He always looked good, but he wasn't yours to tell that anymore.
He was laughing, an iced coffee in his hand. Though you were confused. He had a class at this time. Why was he at the gym?
You kept your eyes down, trying to avert your gaze. They were headed in your direction. You weren't sure what Minho would do. Since the breakup you didn't see him much, but if you paths were to cross for whatever reason, you would pass by each other like strangers. Minho wouldn't glance in your direction and so you learned how to do the same thing.
But now for the first time in a while you were spotted, and making matters worse, in his hoodie. What would his friends think? What would he think? You hoped Minho wouldn't notice.
As the guys walked over to the counter, Minho was last in line. He had his phone with him scrolling away in disinterest as his straw was in mouth. You tried not to pay attention as you plastered a while.
It was semi awkward since most of the guys knew who you were. But you were all adults so you weren't about to make a scene. You signed them in and they smiled and said their thanks.
"Have a good workout." You wished, just as you did with everyone who's stepped in since the gym opened.
Now that Minho's friends left, you turned to the computer screen, typing his name. You could do this whole thing in silence, and as you see in the corner of your eye that Minho looked around the place and not at you, you expected that he would do the same.
That was until he placed his hand on the desk, leaning in.
"What are you doing?" He asked. His voice sounded slightly irritated.
Your hands typed fast and you willed yourself to be strong and not timid. You were bound to talk to him eventually.
"I'm working Minho, what does it look like I'm doing?" You finally looked up at his handsome face. "I need your card."
Minho's gaze fell at the hoodie. "Why are you wearing my hoodie? What do you think you're doing?"
You breathed deeply and slowly. "I don't know if you noticed this, but this air conditioning is on the highest level and I needed something to warm me up-"
"So you walk around wearing my freaking initials on your chest."
Minho took a step back and glanced at you. Was it disgust? Anger? Resentment? You couldn't even tell.
You blinked. "It's not like that. I didn't know about the air conditioner until I got here. I asked my dad to grab a hoodie on his way here and he found this one. That's all."
Minho rolled his eyes as he got out his wallet. "Sure."
"It's the truth." You said.
Minho didn't look like he believed. His eyes were elsewhere as he handed you his card and you swiped it on the machine. When you handed back his card, he looked at you once more.
"We broke up. And you're out here wearing my hoodie, that's not fair." He said, his voice low.
You scoffed, holding the hem of his hoodie. "Do you think I want to wear this? You think it's fun for me to go around wearing something from someone I'd rather have no business with? I don't like this. It's awkward, okay? But it was either this or freeze." You told him.
Minho shook his head. There was a look in his eye, though you couldn't tell what exactly he felt. You knew this was awkward for him. You placed yourself in his shoes. He, just like you, had a right to move on. But when you were wearing something of his, it was awkward. You knew that.
You just didn't like how he made it seem like it was your choice in the matter.
"Well, is someone coming to fix the air conditioner?" Minho asked.
You nodded. "In about an hour."
Minho gave a weird look. "You couldn't have waited until then?"
That was what made you ticked off. You shook your head, letting out a huff.
"Look, do you want me to take this off and give it to you? Because-"
"Calm down. You're already wearing it, I'm not gonna ask you to take it off, I'm not that vile. It's whatever. You can keep it. Or burn it later. Do whatever you want with it. I don't care." Minho said, taking his wallet and his coffee.
He walked away from the desk, leaving you staring at his retreating figure as he went on his phone. You sighed, covering your face in your hands.
You weren't the type that hated anybody, but you didn't understand him. And that caused an anger to build up. How could he stand there so disgusted, so bratty, so nonchalant, like he never once told you he loved you? As if you weren't the one he once shared everything with? Why was he so cold, when once all you felt was the warmth of being cradled in his arms? How could he interact with you like he never knew you when he once kissed every part of you? Was it not hurting him to stand there and pretend he didn't think of all the moments shared? Did he not miss it? Did he not miss you...like you missed him?
Minho once told you, during that times where you both were fighting a lot, that it wasn't over between you. There was still something, whether fate, force, or faith, that was keeping you both together by a thread. That even through the differences you both had, you would stay together because you were meant to be.
It wasn't until after everything that happened in the breakup did you realize in the learning curve was that the only thing meant for the two of you was to break up. You weren't the same. Not even close. He was different, you were different.
People changed all the time. It was a part of life. And soon you would get to the point of gratitude that he was no longer in your life anymore.
#lee minho#lee know#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#skz#stray kids#lee know x reader#lee know x you#lee know oneshot#lee minho oneshot#Spotify
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have finally finished reading Blossom. Happy ending in the novel too, although a lot of things were vastly different; the main couple, of course, remained superior until the end.
Things we got in the novel that I am glad didn't make it into the series:
Dou Zhao, an adult woman, scheming and navigating complex familial relationships while in a two year old, then a five year old body. I get how it might be interesting for some, but it was incredibly boring for me, and since she managed to neutralise her stepmother quite early on, I saw no need to spend so much time watching her building up and managing relationships with everyone in the Dou family. Moreover, I am glad that the size of the family was trimmed down (I still can't make sense of all the relationships presented in the novel) and some characters were changed compared to how they were in the novel; it was amazing to see Grandma, who had been only a concubine in the book (and therefore couldn't even be called Grandma by Dou Zhao according to customs, let alone have any kind of power), turning into a formidable matriarch, and it was also cool to see Zhao Zhangru as the constant sidekick;
no Song Mo until 114 chapters in. I must confess that my main fascination in both the series and the novel was the relationship between the mains, and the fact that he is only mentioned once or twice before his first dramatic appearance was definitely not enough for me;
way too much time spent on side characters; like I said in a previous post, did I really need to know in detail how Suxin and Sulan ended up serving Dou Zhao? And it felt even more useless since in the novel they end up getting married and leaving the Song Manor, and only getting mentioned in passing from that moment on;
Things I wish would have made it into the series, but did not (and some of them could have never made it, unless the entire censorship board would have been in a coma):
all the sexual encounters between Song Mo and Dou Zhao. Like in the series, the start of their physical intimacy is quite slow, they don't consummate during their wedding night (but unlike in the series, it's not because she prepares a period PowerPoint presentation, it's simply because he knows the next days as newlyweds will be tiring, and just wants to allow them to rest). Unlike in the series, no one is cockblocking Song Mo (in fact, their subordinates are even alarmed at the lack of consummation), and when he decides to make a move on Dou Zhao, he does it, and no one dares to interrupt. They make love quite regularly from that moment on, and I like how Dou Zhao's reluctance is gradually melting away, and how the novel is clearly stating that she enjoys the encounters just as much as he does, and even becomes bold enough to initiate later on;
them being parents. I know we get that one cute scene with their daughter at the end of the series, but Song Mo is such a good dad and husband in the novel, constantly prioritising Dou Zhao's comfort and being just as involved in the child's rearing as she is (to the point that their son learns to say Papa before Mama). I surely wish we would have seen more of that in the series.
Song Yichun does not die in the novel. He is, in a delightful twist of fate, forced to expel Song Han from the family, a treatment he had hoped to apply to Song Mo, and is left disabled after Song Han attacks him. Moreover, the daughter he had switched at birth with Song Han is discovered alive, Song Mo takes her under his protection, and she gets married and lives happily. I surely wish karma would have hit the old man in the face like this in the series as well.
Other things that got changed which I am fairly neutral about:
Song Mo and Dou Zhao's backgrounds in life 1. I have to say I loved how the series made it crystal clear that life 1 was an utterly doomed timeline, with both of them being betrayed and ultimately killed, while the entire country was burning. Life 1 in the novel was bleak in a different, more subtle, way. Dou Zhao dies after a long illness, almost completely devoid of any human warmth - the novel tells us that both her sons with Wei Tingyu are distant, as a result of her being too busy with household matters to be able to form a bond with them, and the only warmth she gets is from her daughter, a child she had after forcing herself to have sex with her husband once more (she had trauma from miscarriage), hoping she could get pregnant again and alleviate her loneliness somewhat. And Song Mo, unlike in the series, is a very powerful figure after the coup, but is perceived as merciless (having slaughtered both his father and brother), cynical (he never finds out the truth about his uncle's death, and never bothers to) and, in the end, utterly, utterly alone;
the dynamic between them after the rebirth. Unlike in the series, where they forged a bond in life 1 which was the basis for their relationship as adults in life 2, in the novel they meet as teenagers (when he is 13 and she is 14), and he is more or less smitten from the beginning, whereas she fears and despises him at first, gradually starting to understand him the more their paths cross. While in the series, they are already both in love by the time she accepts his proposal (having gone through a lot of adventures together that strengthened their bond), in the novel, he is the one with the huge crush, while she accepts his proposal for more pragmatic reasons, trusting that he is capable and will support her in the way Wei Tingyu was unable to. But the attraction between them is mutual, and I really liked watching her slowly but surely falling in love with him due to his constant care and attention towards her;
Song Mo is way more calculated in the novel than in the series, where he's simply feral and would wreak havoc at any given moment were it not for Dou Zhao and her more sensible approaches. It makes for an interesting dynamic in the series, where they pretty much compliment each other, but I must confess I loved his scheming and 5D chess playing in the novel;
Dou Ming's entire character. Unlike in the series, which presented a nature versus nurture situation, with Dou Ming being shrewd in life 1 after being raised by her mother, and a sweet, innocent girl in life 2, as a result of not being raised by her mother, in the novel, Dou Ming exhibits jealousy from an early age, and constantly feels inferior, which ultimately results in her taking Dou Zhao's place as Wei Tingyu's wife. Their marriage is unhappy, as, just like in the series, he is not very smart and doesn't like facing difficulties. Unlike in the series, she doesn't die (she's too petty to die), but it's clear by the time she makes her last appearance in the novel that her life is miserable, and there is no chance of improvement;
Wang Yingxue is not even half as cunning and manipulative as her series counterpart; she fails to charm Dou Shiying in any meaningful way (he is never in love with her and only wants to take her as a concubine because they had a sexual encounter while he was drunk, and he wants to save face) and ultimately she pushes him away, becomes a pariah in the family and is sent to a country estate to die forgotten by everyone, including her daughter;
Miao Ansu has a completely different familial background and no connection to Dou Zhao prior to her marriage with Song Han. She's also far from being the timid forest creature the series portrays her as;
Song Han manages to be somehow even more awful than his series counterpart. Not only is he not in love with Miao Ansu, he also lacks any kind of respect for her, which ultimately pushes her to align with Dou Zhao and Song Mo, and initiate his downfall. His death is not described in the novel, but it is heavily implied.
Overall, while there were a lot of things I liked about the book, I think I prefer the pacing of the series way more. Also, the series got a "will they get their happily ever after, won't they?" feeling with the poison subplot that the novel lacked until very close to the end (when Dou Zhao is almost taken hostage during the palace coup). The royals are awful as hell in both iterations, the injustice never really gets solved (in my opinion, the Emperor was also very much to blame for Jiang Meisun's death, not only the scheming Empress), but at least the lovely main couple lives happily ever after.
Would I rather recommend the book or the series? Honestly, probably the series, but the Song Mo/Dou Zhao dynamic is lovely in the novel as well, and, if nothing else, those passages about their relationship are definitely worth reading.
#Blossom#Jiu Chong Zi#C drama#novels#books#Dou Zhao#Song Mo#Song Yichun#Song Han#Miao Ansu#Dou Ming#Wei Tingyu#Wang Yingxue#character analysis#meta#original posts
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
nerina only rolls her eyes, she's not going to continue to argue when alina is right, but nor will she let the conversation continue when she's wrong. love was such a foreign concept to the dragomirs, she wasn't sure how to manage it nor navigate. the relationships with her siblings alone was enough to prove that, estranged or mended but never perfected. she and alina may be closer now, but their inability to have a healthy relationship in their childhoods was only another tally in the category of a broken home and incomplete heart. nerina lets her sisters words settle in her mind, beginning to reply before she hears daxton's name. she sighs, wishing to be angry but she can't. alina has to be careful due to her position, but nerina hopes this is also because she simply cares for her sister. no, she knows that to be true. " daxton also said i should not be worried about you with cedrian. " admits the younger dragomir. she'd cornered the spymaster and demanded facts, worried for her sister and pushing into the relationship he held with alina. she had no regrets, she suspected neither did alina. but having her approval was important, she couldn't be with someone her sister didn't like. " no, i think you two need to meet alone. " any man who could not withstand alina on their own feet wasn't strong enough to deal with the summer pirate. she had no doubt alistair could handle himself. " another who is tethered to his own court, no less. "
" need i remind you my ship is home to heathens and immature fae alike ? " parrots the younger summer lady. she doesn't stick her tongue out though, even if she wants to. a nod, " next time i sail i shall send for you, drag you to take the long way to the day court with me. " since now they both had reason to visit. if only they had portals, it would be far too good of an addition in their world. perhaps one day, the magic was rewriting all they thought they knew. " talk to them, lina. get to know them. you won't go in expecting them to call you mom, just be yourself plus a little sweeter. " the latter is a bit of a tease, she knows that alina is capable of being softer around children. look at how she is with her own sister as compared to other members of their court. " then it is settled, we shall make it a date. " even if she were more pirate than lady most of her life, nerina actually adored children. a shrug, the summer lady doesn't want to argue, but she needs her point to be heard. " when he's able, but that is far less than now. it's still something i am happy to do. " because she'd rather be with him, and she knew her sister could figure it out. nerina's nose wrinkles, she can't really explain why, but the reaction is had all the same. " i agree, and she's always been the most innocent of all of us. " something that made being an emissary difficult. ner also wondered what her sister was doing with the high lord of this court, a feeling in her bones she does not bring up now. she'd seen them at the festival, chose to leave it be for now until jules spoke up. if she ever did. " i think we both have a lot to think about lina, because we both deserve happiness even with the bits our father ruined. "
END.
"you, indeed, are." truly with dragomirs as a whole, save for lavinia perhaps, the matters of heart was in essence the blinding leading the blind. alina could advise her sister on almost anything, save for affairs of the heart. it had taken the high lady far too long to allow herself to admit she had developed feelings for cedrian, and then some to realize she loves him. still, she holds the belief that ner understood these feelings far better than her elder sister ever could. for the younger fae, it was fear of falling and not having it reciprocated - that was far more frightening. "what matters is what comes with such hubris. i also believe you've discovered that as well with him." she met the younger dragomir's gaze, with her softened ones, "he does. and at the risk of you being cross with me, i had daxton look into him." she pauses, "i don't discredit your judgement, but you know well me enough that i would pry into anyone who wishes to be involved with my siblings. your commander is a good man." while ner does not admit to her feelings directly, alina had surmised enough, if her sister hadn't fallen for him, she was beginning to. ner knew what her commander meant to her, only that she struggled to admit it out loud to herself. "if he's sincere , then he has no reason to fear me. you may watch if you wish." there was mirth dancing in the high lady's gaze. "it's a curious look on you, becoming - never tethering yourself, not even to our home, but now to another."
"need i remind you're also a captain, and such antics are beneath you." alina knew that would simply earn her another eye roll. the jest falls wayside as ner returns the sentiments, and the elder simply allows herself to relish in the warmth that evaded her for so long concerning her sibling. "as am i." she dares to hope that when they returned home, the hallways of adriata palace would not be silent, they would be filled with the vibrant chatters of her siblings. "perhaps when time permits, i may be able to." how often had she wondered what it would be like to sail the seas past adriata with ner? ner's request of revealing her feels to the day high lord was ever daunting, "i will consider it." a response to soothe her sister's worry. "children are more observant then we give them credit for, i don't wish for them to think i am inserting myself into their lives. you forget i have not been around children, not even our younger siblings, i scarcely was able to hold them as toddlers or play with them as children." it was one of those times it was a stinging reminder how much she missed out with her own siblings. ner's offer has her take a beat of pause, grateful that the other was keen on this, "i would like that, and they will like meeting you." that she had no doubt of, they would find ner far more palatable than alina. she wouldn't deny she did wish to meet them, each time ced spoke of them, it was as if she knew them without ever meeting them. "he would travel with you as he's able, and i have no qualms in making sacrifices for him, without compromising my duties." how was she to explain, she does not wish for ced to do so for her? " thank you. i fear jules is far too distracted." in an emissary it was concerning, given their situation. there is relief that for now, ner drops the subject, and it was not her questions that bothered in her any form, it was that alina was even far more afraid than her sister thought her capable. alina also knew, she could not avoid having a frank discussion with cedrian for long now. "i will say this, i am taking all of your wise words into consideration as you are with mine. i do not know of love, but i read others well, so, i know, alistair will not break your heart."
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
I can't make myself happy. I can't make them happy. Fuck
#Maybe not yet#Trying to get my thoughts together#This helps#I just.#God i try sk hard#To be good#And be better than I was#And then shit like this happens#And i want to die#It's#hard#I think I'm triggered#Ii just want someone to be happy#And it's never going to be me#But I can't even be good enough to make them happy#I should be helping#I miss Delores#Five Vents#(literally ignore him im just lowkey vent writing teehee)
3 notes
·
View notes