#and he does it without using the word 'please' a single time but the contrast between what he COULD choose to do and what he actually does

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

i think i've talked before about how amazingly normal (and respectful) tesilid is towards Ailette for an OI male lead (ie. despite being utterly obsessed with her for aeons, he would never cross a line with her and would ask for consent), but i think we also need to give Reed credit for being pretty normal and respectful too. with regards to Ailette's consent, anyway. for all that he's a homicidal crazy guy trying to destroy the world.

he asks ailette to join him in the abyss and when she says no he's like aw okay, see you next time then <3 he offers ailette a chair and when she says no he doesn't force her. (tesilid doesn't get rights though). ailette goes i already said no i dont want to join you and he's like wait i can change your mind, and when he runs out of time he goes aww okay, i hope you change your mind next time though, ciao <3

like if it were any other OI ailette would be fighting off a confinement arc right now, but reed is just 😭 he just wants to chill with her.

[blue-babygirl]

Energy Drink

Pairing: Derek Morgan x college student! Reader

Type: Fluff/Sweet (I think?)

Description: You know you are not supposed to be drinking energy drinks. Derek restricts them for a reason. But it's not like he is around to find out at the moment.

Warnings: stern but loving Derek, somewhat dominant Derek and that's pretty much it. Let me know if I need to add anything.

You stare at the energy drinks in the vending machine near your lecture hall, contemplating whether to actually get one or not. You can practically feel the single-eyebrow-raised stare that Derek would give you if he were there.

Actually, if he were here, you wouldn't even be standing here contemplating this decision. After all, there is a reason Derek doesn't approve of you drinking energy drinks.

But as you hear your friends entering the hallway, you make up your mind and make quick work of getting your previously favorite flavor from the drinks available, checking to see how much time you have before the professor locks the door as your friends get to you and you make your way to into the hall, taking your seats in the middle.

Before you know it, you have emptied the can, recycled it, got done with work, hyper-fixated on cleaning the kitchen, cleaned the kitchen, and are distractedly working on 3 essays at the same time when Derek gets home. You run over to him before practically throwing yourself in his arms, eternally thankful for how strong he is as you realize that you could have both fallen and gotten hurt.

“Someone’s happy?” Derek looks at you questioningly as you cling to him, making you nod into your hiding spot, his neck.

You can feel him chuckle as he holds you while putting away his things near the entrance. The keys into the bowl, his wallet near the bowl, his shoes near the rack, and his briefcase under the table. You can tell everything he is doing as he does it without even looking up from your hiding spot. It’s probably the energy drink.

“How was your day gorgeous? And why are you up so late? Don’t you have work in the morning?” He questions as he walks into the living room and sees the mess of snacks at the kitchen counter surrounding your laptop in stark contrast to the surprisingly squeaky clean kitchen.

But instead of getting answers like he expected, he looks down to see you staring at him with wide eyes before asking what time it was. That’s when it clicks to him.

He carries you around as he closes your laptop against your protests before carrying your pouty butt to your bedroom.

“I was still working on that essay. You can’t just close my laptop like that!”

Your complaints fall on deaf ears as he finally puts you down on the counter of your ensuite bathroom.

“Those essays, not that essay. And I saved them before closing your laptop sweet cheeks. Now, care to tell me about that energy drink you had?” Derek folds his arms as he gives you the look. You know, the look. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, you are bad at lying when it comes to him. Or honestly, the BAU in general. But in this case, that doesn’t even matter because you don’t think before you answer.

“How did you know?” You look at him with big eyes and a pout as you realize that you just told him that you had one.

“Because, sweetheart,” Derek smiles despite knowing he should be scolding you before nuzzling your nose with his, “I know you.”

You pout but give him a quick peck before he pulls away. “I was tired before a 4-hour lecture with the bitc- witchy professor.” You quickly correct yourself, not wanting to remember the task you had given him as he tried to stop his smirk at your almost mistake.

“You have to help me stop swearing! Please, Derek!!” You pleaded, but he still seemed unsure. “How exactly will I be helping you?” He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow suggestively, making you blush but nod. This took him a little by surprise. “You have to use your words Y/N, you know I won’t agree to anything unless you clarify yourself and what you want.” You blush as you confirmed verbally to what you had both talked about with just your eyes not even minutes ago.

“Anyways, I was exhausted so I thought, why not.” You shrug.

“You know why not.” Derek gives you that look. “You get way too hyper for way too long sweeetie. You usually can’t even keep track of time, like today. I got home at around 3:25 a.m. Y/N. You have to wake up at 7 for work and now you are gonna have a migraine. Did you even eat dinner? Or lunch? Anything other than those snacks?”

You are honestly surprised about how late it is, you didn’t even feel the time passing. You try to remember if you ate anything for lunch or dinner but you don’t even remember getting or eating the snacks Derek mentioned. You cringe at the thought of the migraine you are going to have along with the fact that you definitely disappointed Derek and that you are not even sleepy.

Derek sighs after staring at you thinking for a few minutes, making you realize he is still there. At this point, you at least have the courtesy to look ashamed.

“Here is what we are going to do now. You are going to get out of these clothes and get in the shower while I get a few things done. Okay baby?” You nod quickly before making grabby hands at him. He obliges and comes closer for you to give him a hug. He gives you one last kiss on your forehead before leaving you in the bathroom.

“Wet your hair too!” You hear Derek yell from somewhere in the house as you make your way into the shower after undressing and getting it set up.

Not long after you get your hair wet thoroughly, Derek comes into the bathroom and joins you in the shower. After giving you a head massage as he washed your hair and helped you clean up with you returning the favor, you step out of the shower together. You let him cover you in his towel while he uses yours.

After getting changed into some pajamas and having him partially dry your hair with a towel, you get in bed together, finally tired and ready to fall asleep.

“I emailed your manager that you won’t be able to get to work until noon tomorrow.” Derek mumbles tiredly as he pulls you flush to him and snuggles you close.

You turn around in his arms before pecking his lips softly and mumbling out a thank you before you snuggle yourself as close to him as you can. You feel him kiss your forehead making you smile softly.

The last thing he hears before your breathing evens out is a sleepily mumbled, “No more energy drinks.”

[gayofthefae]

Let's do a major contrast I've somehow overlooked. Let's talk WILL'S confession versus Mike's.

Mike and El both express self doubt as prompting for Will and Mike to tell them their feelings to make them love themselves.

But Mike tells Will he feels like El doesn't need him. In response, Will tells him that he lights up the people around him and is their guiding light. In conclusion: he is needed. He says this after "of course she'll need you, she'll always need you" fails.

On the other hand, El tells Mike that she feels like an unlovable monster and he responds that she isn't unlovable and isn't a monster. Essentially, the same direct response that failed for Will (so it's a good thing she already got to self love before he got there).

Mike said he felt unlovable and Will described the definition of love in great detail with him as the subject and concluded by pointing out that what he just described was love. El said she felt unlovable and Mike said that he did love her. He didn't include a personal story - No. He didn't. He included a length of time.

Read that again

Mike absolutely did not tell a story of loving El. He dated his love for. He said 'I have loved you since that one time you looked sweet in that big t shirt'. That was a memory identifier. Even shippers know the shirt isn't what MADE him fall in love with her, it was just endearing.

Mike never told El a story. He did not use a SINGLE EXAMPLE.

Will's speech breakdown was:

You bring light [my life]. You brighten [my] days when [I'm] feeling sad. Being without you is a burden for [me] but having you back is such a joy - so much so that the idea of losing you is terrifying and can make [me] impulsive and avoidant. All that has a name. It's love.

Mike's speech breakdown was:

I love you. You think that I don't but I do. I couldn't say it because I was scared but you're more important now. I do love you. I have for two years. Remember two years ago? I do. You're wonderful so please please don't die on me you're so important to me.

And when you see them next to each other like that. Mike's is just the bare bones of Will's...just without any deepening of it. He doesn't describe the emotions he experiences once. But he does go "your self doubt is wrong, compliment, personal story, I was scared, I love you", which is what he got from Will's. Whether he believes himself to be copying Will's words or copying El's, he's taking a speech he was as romantic and mimicking it.

We've seen the van scene a hundred times but Mike hasn't. Will said "you're the heart" and it gave him an idea. So he reapplied the details and quoted a long speech said to him 12 hours prior to the best of his ability of the top of his head.

Because people in real life don't remember monologues said to them like that. Mike probably remembers the most important phrases to him like "you're the heart" but besides that he remembers "you're wrong, personal story, compliment, I was scared, I love you - and when he said I felt really loved".

He's got an emotional memory and because of the recency a pretty clear memory of the speech's structure. He remembers the exact structure and he remembers that it worked, so he uses it. Will reminded him of a love confession that worked to cure self doubt so he uses it.

His confession isn't just plagiarism. It's his best regurgitation. But the only feeling behind it was the desperation for it to work, so it lacks everything it needs to because unlike Will, he doesn't know why he's saying each piece. He doesn't know the story is supposed to be an example of what loves feels like, he just knows there was a story and it worked on him so he thinks of a story and puts it in cliche romantic wording.

Mike's speech is Will's speech if you asked someone who didn't know the justification for any part of it to recite it back to you technically.

"Wrong, story, compliment, scared, love"

[devdevlin]

After the epilogue we all know behind the scenes that Tom tortured Hermione, with the kindness of your heart can you give us sweet moments of what Tom did to Hermione?

Hmm does this count as sweet? I don’t know

(Spoilers below)

(TW: Peremo epilogue)

(This is meant to be right after Hermione finds out about Tom killing Harry and Ron’s families)

It wouldn't do her any good, but Hermione didn't care. She punched and kicked, and scratched and screamed with everything she had, not stopping until Tom caught her fists and shoved her back. She bucked and thrashed against his grip, and when he pushed her into her dresser and she couldn't even do that much, she spat, "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

"I know," he said simply.

His words were such a calm contrast to her own, that it spurred her on and her screams became wild.

"Get off me! You monster— you foul—!”

She kicked out at him, but he was bigger than her and he pinned her legs back against the dresser with his own.

With the only weapon she had left, she yelled and yelled, and somewhere along the line, as her throat became raw, her screams blurred together with her sobs.

"Why won't you— I have nothing left!" she screamed. "You've taken everything! I have nothing more to give you, just make it stop!"

She went limp in his hold, her body shaking with the truth of her own words.

Without the prospect of seeing Harry and Ron again, there was nothing of her old life left, nothing but him, and she slumped forward into him as her sobbing turned into an animalistic wailing.

It all gushed out of her, and she was a shell. An empty piece of meat held together by sheer stubbornness and hatred, and she wasn't conscious of moving, wasn't aware that she'd gripped onto the front of his shirt until he brought one of his arms around her and held her head into his chest.

It all came out, everything she had in her, and through it, his hold on her was tight. He didn't let her fall.

He didn't say anything through it, didn't move, didn't hurry her. He held her calmly, his other hand rested on her waist, keeping her standing.

"P-please," she pleaded between her sobs, her voice muffled by his chest. "Please just make it stop."

After what felt like an eternity, Tom loosened his hold on her, and when her sobs had calmed enough for her to hold herself, he pulled back enough to move his hands on either side of her face. His face was blank, entirely void of emotion, and he wiped her tears away with his thumbs.

"Please. I can't— I can't do this anymore," she whispered, voice breaking as she searched him for a single shred of humanity. "I can't live like this."

His mask cracked then, but only slightly, giving away his frustration.

"Please, Tom," she repeated at the sight of him slipping. "Y-you've taken everything, please just— please, take this too. Just for a while. Let me rest."

His nostrils flared. "Why should I?"

"Because I— I can't pretend like this. I can't look him in the eye and keep lying to him. I can't. I can't do it—"

"You will."

She squeezed her eyes closed. "I'll slip. I have nothing left now you've taken them."

"But it isn't them you're grieving. Is it?" he muttered sharply. "Hmm? Because there was no guarantee they'd even be born, not when we've diverged so drastically."

Hermione stiffened. "Tom—"

"Don't lie to me," he hissed, fingers digging harshly into the back of her head, keeping her in place. "They were never going to help you, Hermione. No one is going to help you. No one will ever take you from me."

Her body physically lurched, his words cutting like blades, and she couldn't hold herself anymore.

Tom let her go, and the moment he did, she slipped to her knees.

The room was getting smaller, floor falling out from under her. There wasn't enough air.

"Would it really be so bad?" she vaguely heard him say from over her. "I've given you everything you could possibly need. I've given you time. I've cared for you. I've let you keep the boy."

She leaned forward onto her hands, wheezing for air, but it wasn't enough. Her head pounded, and her skin started to clam up.

"You will get through this, just as you've gotten through everything else."

Hermione couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but shake her head. Her chest was sharply tight, as though the walls closing in around her were wrapping around her and squeezing.

This was going to kill her. She was sure of it.

“P-please,” she wheezed. “I can’t— I can’t—”

Dark spots flooded into her vision, blurring the sight of him crouching down before her.

She reached for him, clawing onto his leg like a lifeline.

“I can’t… breathe. I think— I think I’m going to—" she wheezed, and she hated doing it, but she knew what he wanted, what he always wanted, so she added, "please, M-My Lord."

Tom’s arms, stable and sure, reached underneath her and hooked under hers. He pulled her up, back up to her knees and held her close against him to keep her up.

She turned her head into him, leaning her weight into his chest, and she made out, a quiet groan from the bottom of his throat.

"Imperio."

His quiet curse took her at once, and with it, everything abruptly lifted. The weight around her chest, her worry, her pain; it all drifted from her like the lifting of a veil, and her muscles loosened one by one, letting her rest entirely into him.

It was blissful, painless. Freeing.

And for just a short while, everything was okay.

[theaawalker]

Hello. I don’t know if you remember but we chatted on your Story :Delusional. I was wondering would you write lex with a male reader?

it’s never been done from what I can see and I had a rather interesting idea for one… it could be done with a woman too but everyone does that so I,d prefer a guy

THE SECRET KEEPER 🧪Lex L.

James had been by Lex Luthor’s side for nearly three years, ever since he’d stepped in to fill the void left by Mercy Graves after her unfortunate accident. Mercy had been a force of nature — calculating, stoic, and unfazed by the world’s chaos. James, by contrast, was softer, a little more fragile on the edges. But in a way, that made him perfect for the role he played.

It had all started when Lex had hired him fresh out of his prison stint. James had seen the offer as a lifeline, a way out of a dead-end life. He’d always felt a kind of kinship with Lex — both had been molded by broken homes, by abusive parents, by a world that seemed to want nothing but to tear them apart. Lex had always been the one to pull the strings, to take control. And James? Well, he’d always been good at staying in the shadows, making sure things stayed just out of view of the world.

Tonight, however, things felt different.

James stepped into Lex's office with a subtle unease crawling up his spine. Lex sat behind his desk, the city lights casting sharp shadows across his face. He was the picture of calculated calm, a man who had always been two steps ahead, always planning for the worst, always prepared for the inevitable fallout.

"James," Lex began, his voice low and purposeful, "please, sit."

James did as told, his heart already racing. He knew that tone. That was the tone Lex used when he was about to drop something monumental.

Lex took his time, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers as though deep in thought. Then, without warning, he reached for the decanter on his desk. "Bourbon?" he asked, his eyebrow raised slightly.

James hesitated only for a moment before nodding. It had become something of a ritual for them, the shared drink after a day of dealing with the madness of their lives. Lex poured two glasses, the amber liquid catching the light as he handed one to James.

"To us," Lex said, a rare, almost soft smile curling his lips.

James clinked his glass against Lex’s, but there was an edge to his smile, a nervous tension that wasn’t lost on Lex. The words that followed would change everything.

"I’ve decided to merge LexCorp with Wayne Enterprises," Lex said, letting the words settle into the space between them.

James blinked. "Wayne Enterprises?" he repeated, trying to absorb the gravity of it. "But… Bruce Wayne’s been missing for years."

"Yes," Lex said, eyes gleaming with something darker, something dangerous. "But his half-brother, Thomas Wayne, has bought the company. He's agreed to the merger. Though…" Lex paused, looking at James with an inscrutable expression, "no one has seen him. Not a single person outside of me and a few of my more trusted associates."

James felt a shiver run through him. "So, what does that mean for us? For LexCorp?"

Lex leaned forward, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the edge of his desk. "It means change, James. Major change. Bruce Wayne's legacy, his wealth, his influence, all of that is now mine, in a sense. But…"

James furrowed his brow. "But?"

Lex sighed and set his glass down. "But this is where I make the hard decisions. James, you’ve been invaluable to me, truly. Your loyalty, your intelligence, your discretion," Lex’s eyes locked with his, intense and piercing, "I appreciate you. More than you know."

James’ heart skipped a beat. It was rare for Lex to say things like that. He was always calculating, always playing the long game. A compliment from him felt like an unexpected gift, but it also came with a certain weight.

Lex’s smile faltered slightly, and his eyes turned colder. "But this is where our paths diverge, James."

A chill ran through James, a feeling of dread settling in his chest. "What do you mean?"

Lex stood and walked to the window, looking out over the city. "I need you to leave for the day. I think you’ve earned it. You’ve been loyal to me, to LexCorp, and now… it’s time for you to rest."

Rest? James couldn’t make sense of it. This wasn’t just a dismissal; it felt like the end of something. He opened his mouth to say something, to protest, but Lex didn’t give him the chance.

"You’ve done enough," Lex said, his back to James, his voice final.

James stood up, hesitating for just a moment longer before nodding, his heart heavy with something he couldn’t quite place. "I’ll be back tomorrow, then."

Lex didn’t answer. He just waved a dismissive hand. And with that, James left the office.

[ time skip ]

Later that night, James sat in his small apartment, staring blankly at his phone when the message came through: Lex Luthor was dead. Suicide, most likely.

It didn’t seem real. The man who had been his mentor, his confidant, the one constant in his turbulent life, was gone. James could barely breathe.

The next day, a new face appeared. Thomas Wayne. The illegitimate half-brother of Bruce Wayne. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with an air of authority that immediately reminded James of Lex. Thomas was also the one now in charge of the merger, having acquired Wayne Enterprises and taken full control.

And that’s how James ended up in the private gym beneath the Wayne mansion, where Thomas was waiting by the pool. Water splashed gently around his ankles as he gazed down at James with a cool smile.

"I often come down here when I need to clear my mind," Thomas said casually, as if discussing the weather. "Sometimes, you need a little space to think, don't you agree?"

James nodded numbly, still processing the bizarre sequence of events. "I… I don’t know what to think anymore."

Thomas smirked. "Understandable. This all must be quite overwhelming." He paused, his expression shifting to something a little more... calculated. "But I think you're starting to understand."

James didn’t respond immediately, his mind still caught on the fact this man was his new boss, replacing Lex Luthor. No one could ever replace Lex Luthor.

"So, what now?" James finally asked, his voice sounding strained, unsure whether he wanted an answer or not.

Thomas walked to a nearby wet bar and began rummaging through the shelves. James couldn't help but feel his curiosity peak. There was something almost hypnotic about Thomas's movements, the way he handled the liquor with an air of casual expertise.

"How do you take it?" Thomas asked without looking up, his fingers grazing the edge of the bourbon decanter.

James blinked, momentarily stunned by the question. It was an innocuous enough request, but for some reason, it made his stomach tighten. How did Thomas know? James had always kept his love for bourbon relatively low-key, a quiet indulgence after long, stressful days with Lex. It wasn't something he shared with anyone, not even with Lex all that often.

"Uh…" James hesitated, his brow furrowing as his mind scrambled for an explanation. "How did you—"

Thomas chuckled softly, glancing up at James with a playful glint in his eye. "I have a knack for details. And I’ve heard that the Luthor family has a very particular taste in their choice of spirits. Let’s just say I’ve been paying attention."

James’ heart skipped a beat. The way Thomas said it—so casual, yet knowing—made something inside James stir uncomfortably. Was he still dealing with Lex, or was this someone new? Someone in control of everything now?

Thomas poured two glasses of bourbon with practiced precision and handed one to James, his eyes never leaving his face.

"To new beginnings," Thomas said softly, his tone laden with something deeper, something James couldn’t quite place.

James took the glass reluctantly, his fingers brushing Thomas's ever so slightly as he accepted it. "I guess this is where I stop asking questions and just... follow your lead?" He tried to sound playful, but there was a crack in his voice.

Thomas smiled, a slow, knowing smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He raised his own glass. "You can ask questions. In fact, I encourage it. But some answers, James, you’ll have to find for yourself."

James nodded, staring down into the amber liquid swirling in his glass. He wasn’t sure whether he felt more at ease or more on edge. He took a careful sip, letting the warmth of the bourbon spread through him, grounding him just slightly.

James watched as Thomas slid a bar tile to reveal a button. Upon pressing it, a stairway opened in the floor, making James step back so as not to fall in. He followed an unfazed Thomas and descended into a hidden lab beneath the gym. The cool, sterile environment was in stark contrast to the warmth of the pool above.

And then James saw it: clones. Dozens of them, floating in large tanks. His breath caught in his throat.

"What is this?" James whispered, his voice trembling.

Thomas smiled as he gestured to the tanks. "These… these are me. I’m not just Thomas Wayne. I’m Lex Luthor. I created these bodies from Bruce Wayne’s DNA and a few others. I used Kryptonian technology to transfer my mind into one of these clones. The life I had before was too dangerous. But now… now I’m starting fresh."

James was speechless. It didn’t make sense. How could this be true? But there was something in Thomas’s eyes, something in the way he spoke that made James feel… certain.

"You’re… you’re Lex," James whispered, the realization settling heavily in his chest.

Lex — no, Thomas — nodded, stepping closer to him. "I’m Lex Luthor. And you’re my secret keeper now, James. I trust you."

The words felt like a weight on his shoulders, but at the same time, they felt like freedom. It was the truth. The one thing that had always been elusive. The person James had known all along, the one he had tried so desperately to protect, had never truly been gone.

Before James could respond, Lex reached out and pulled him into a gentle embrace. A soft kiss pressed against his forehead, and for the first time in a long while, James felt at peace.

"Don’t worry," Lex murmured. "I’ll explain everything. But for now, come with me to dinner. There’s so much we have to discuss."

As James left the lab with Thomas, his mind was reeling. He found himself glancing at the strange, familiar man as he walked beside him, through the mansion corridors all the way to the limousine. There was so much to take in, so much to understand. But one thing was clear: whatever came next, James was in this for the long haul.

And perhaps, just perhaps, this was the beginning of something even bigger.

Thank you to @davrosfan23 for the request! Check out my upcoming high-fantasy series

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[lamemaster]

A Conspiring Universe (Curufin x Reader)

Pairing: Curufin x Reader

Genre: Lovers to enemies (hehe)

Summary: Such was the unfortunate tale of your meeting with Curufin. A fate orchestrated by the entire universe.

AN: Idk Curufin just came and demanded this so here it is. Another story for the underrated character event. @doodle-pops

"Your father destroyed lives, he does not get my respect," your words reverberate through the serene room, a stark contrast to the tranquility that hangs in the air. The faint scent of ripe oranges and sugar from your marmalade fills the space, a bittersweet reminder of domesticity amidst the impending storm.

In the golden light of the Sun, you see him for the first time. The last time you laid eyes on him, the Sun and the Moon had yet to grace the world. "You never even gave us... my family a chance. Always on your high horse. Always preaching whatever your parents told you about," Curufin remains unchanged. Despite the passage of time, the regrowth of his fana has not tamed his fervor, nor dimmed the fire that has long defined him.

This is how you greet your husband after eons of separation. Your veins pulse with adrenaline, your heart pounds like a drumbeat of fury. "You and your wretched family took away everything from me," your accusatory finger jabs the air, finding its mark on Curufin's conscience.

"You took away my son, his happiness; you trampled upon his heart," your steps carry you closer to him, until your breaths mingle, noses almost touching. "And in doing so, you took my everything," you refuse to let your tears fall. Not today. Not in front of him. He does not deserve them. Not after the last time you had begged him with the same tears. You had pleaded for your son.

"I wish I hadn't met you," the words slip out, unhindered by any interruption. So you continue, your voice like a river finally allowed to flow freely. "I wish you had perished at Alqualondë, or I wish you had ended my life before you departed Tirion," a tremor runs through you, but you steel yourself against it. After all these years, after carrying the weight of a bond you never asked for, it all crumbles like a dam breached under pressure. "I wish... I... I had died."

"Please," his voice is a whisper, a fragile sound that blends into the walls around you, almost lost in the echoes.

"Every single day of your exile, I yearned for death. To depart this world. To journey beyond even Miriel's reach, and to leave you. To abandon you as you abandoned me," your voice wavers, your knees threaten to give way, and the tears stream down. At that moment, the arms that wrap around you. 

You do not allow him to embrace you completely. You shrug off his arms even as the world blurs. “Curufinwe I hate you,” your voice is a whisper but you know he hears it. “I hate you so much.” Tears not belonging to you, stings the skin of your hands. Tremors foreign to your body rock your shoulders.

Curufinwe, like his father, fell in love with the most unexpected person. None in Aman had expected such to occur, yet, it had. Just like none had expected Feanor to marry unremarkable Nerdanel. They hadn’t expected for his son, his shadow, Curufin to wed the daughter of a priest.

But love comes where it is destined. And it stays there like an unwelcome tenant. It came for Curfin and you. 

Your upbringing immersed you in tales of the Valar and their valor, bound by reverence and tradition. Curufin, however, was raised in a household that reveled in defiance, a family that dared to question the authority of those who claimed dominion over Arda. Neither Feanor nor your parents had assented easily. But that too had come to pass.

Or else what could have been the chances of Curufin getting a sudden impulse to stroll, a mere few hours after he had delved into his father's smithy, a place he could stay in for days without respite. Why did he choose that exact moment for a break? And why did his steps lead him to the temple, a place his family had shunned? How was it that you, who usually worked out in the gardens of the temple was the one singing the hymn that morning? What had led you to sing like that, that particular day?

It was as if the entire universe had conspired to blend your path to him. On a pleasant sunny day, when the flowers bloomed bearing all the colors of the rainbow, and the air thrummed with the subtle fragrance of incense, you met Curufin. 

It had happened in a fraction of a second. Your eyes met his and it was undeniable. In a hall full of people your singing faltered at his sight. Notes forgotten and worship discarded. Curufin on the other hand did not pause. He moved towards you uncaring of the eyes on him. 

Such was the unfortunate tale of your meeting with Curufin. A fate orchestrated by the entire universe.

[just-bible-musings]

Copyrights and Translations on the Word of God

So can someone please explain to me why God's Word is copyrighted?

Literally, the only reason copyright laws exist is so that the person or company who owns the copyright can sue the pants off anyone and everyone who quotes or uses their work without their permission (and, very often, paying the copyright owner for the privilege, as well).

Except for one thing: Zondervan and Thomas Nelson and whoever else did NOT write the Bible, God did! That's why we call it "The Word of God." All any of these publishing companies ever did was print a translation, that's all.

But because of these copyrights, these companies could legally sue anyone who uses a verse without crediting at least which version that verse came from. Usually, this isn't a problem- except for the KJV, a lot of those translations have such similar language that people pretty much have to tell you which version it came from. But the law, and the threat that goes with it, still exists.

Yes! That's right! You can get in trouble for quoting the Bible!

That really makes sense, doesn't it? God's Word, spoken freely and lovingly for the benefit of all mankind- and yet you can get your butt fined or thrown in jail for quoting it without citing the reference.

And yes, I've done my research and found that the KJV, which I use exclusively, is also copyrighted by the British Crown. So my argument extends even to the KJV. (However, it is worth noting that, as the law currently stands, you don't need official permission to quote the KJV, you just have to say that you're quoting the KJV.)

And I read the argument in favorite of copyrighting the Bible. "But these translators put in so much work when they did the translating, so they deserve the credit." Bah! What about all the scribes and rabbis who faithfully copied the words of the Old Testament time and time again, down through history until Jesus came? How many of their names can you tell me? And as far as credit goes, there are numerous Psalms whose authors are still unknown. We still don't know who wrote Hebrews, whether it was Paul or Peter or someone else. And while James and Jude are generally believed to have been written by Jesus' earthly half-brothers, no one has ever conclusively proven it.

I don't care who put in the work to translate the Bible, or how much work they put in. The words are ultimately God's, HE is the only One who deserves the credit! Because, if a translation is truly faithful to the words provided by God Himself, then He is clearly also the One who moved the person who did the translation, as well.

People, please look at this logically:

Do you believe that the Bible is the coherent Word of God, divinely inspired to provide one single, cohesive, Gospel message to all men and women throughout all of history, in every corner of the world, despite having been written down by at least 40 different human beings over the course of as much as 4000 years?

Do you also believe that God is capable of communicating to us through His Holy Spirit, and that it is only through His Holy Spirit that we are able to get the wisdom that we need in order to understand His Word as He meant it?

If your answer to both of these is "yes," then why do you not believe that the same God who was capable of preserving and providing us with His full and complete Word, was also capable of providing us with ONE perfect translation of His Word? Why does every Christian I know of sit there surrounded by multiple translations and try to tell me that I am not properly studying the Bible if I don't compare and contrast the various translations made by various people, and of any and all the mistakes that those people may have incorporated into their translations? Why are so many Christians incapable of relying on the Holy Spirit to interpret God's Word, and instead rely on the mistakes and mistranslations of numerous people?

Look. At this point, I'm not trying to tell you which version to use. I'm just saying, if you truly believe that you hold God's Word in your hand, and you truly rely on His Spirit to give you divine wisdom to understand His Word, then why can you not just pick one version, say "this is the divinely and perfectly inspired Word of God" and die on that hill? Do you even realize how many cracks you are putting in your own testimony by your lack of faith in both God's Word and His Holy Spirit, who lives inside you??? Do you ever even think of just how much it grieves God that you put more faith in the mistakes of men than in the perfection of His Spirit???

[taeilskitty]

Hey there! I saw that you open for a request so here's what I thought : what kind of sound did nct make when having sex? Are they more into whimpers, groans, or maybe dirty talk? Thank you so much for answering my question and hope you have a good day!

i was BORN to answer this omg. lemme tell you, i have thought about this so SO much!! (i'm leaving chenji out of this bc i don't know how people feel about that yet)

anyways, i hope u enjoy and i hope this matches what you had in mind <3

taeil

oh fuck. taeil is most certainly a groaner. i think (and trust me, i've thought a lot) he must make these gorgeous low moans like right in the back of his throat if that makes sense - have you ever heard his bubble voice messages? oh my god, they're so fucking hot. his raspy voice in the middle of the night is just to die for. that makes me CONVINCED that he dirty talks super up close. even thinking about it makes me shiver :(( he's the king of praise, i just know it. i think he degrades too, but his favourite is when he mixes both together - "you look so pathetic there baby, how cute." "daddy loves his pretty slut so much." "god you're so fucking good for me, my cockslut~" taeil also asks things, i think that suits him so much. "yeah? you like that?" "is daddy's cock too big baby? shh, i'll be done soon..."

taeyong

whiner. whiner. undoubtedly. this boy has the sweetest, prettiest little moans... he gets all high pitched when he's close and oh god when he sinks into subspace he just mewls and his voice gets so weak </3 little "yes" and "a-ah thank you"s slip out because he such a good kitten. he's so precious... and if he gets asked to speak while he's getting fucked he just squeaks out an answer. "m.. love it... ah..." n he will never fail to say his please and thank yous - he's so well mannered even when hes getting used !!!

johnny

this is just. oh my. i think he's silent for the most part. heavy breathing and quiet grunts and groans until he's close. THAT'S when he starts moaning, all sorts of things slipping out. "god you're so good" "i love this hole so much" ahh??! i think he talks down too. fuck !!! daddy!johnny is so patronising, and not just outside of the bedroom. kinda like taeil, he asks things, but he makes u feel so dumb and cock drunk :( AH AND he like... coos when you feel all dazed from his cock... "awh~ is that good? you like that don't you sweetheart? yeah, i know."

yuta

i have this vision of yuta just SLAMMING from behind with his face right up in your ear, telling you all sorts of dirty things lowly with just the hottest voice ever. he's very vocal about what he wants, and he loves cumming inside... so expect him to talk about that. oh, he is so fucking possessive too. "hmm. mine. this is mine. you're mine." he probably bites your ear/neck when he says it... the grunts that come out when he slams are enough to send anyone reeling, but i bet he tells you "fuck. gonna. gonna cum in my fuckdoll--" n his voice just trails off as he fills you up and sighs<33

kun

now kun is !! an interesting one !! ... i envision him as a pretty hard dom, so i don't think he's any stranger to degrading. that being said, i think he's more talkative when he's giving punishments (e.g. spanking over his thigh... heaven<33) rather than when he's fucking. i think he moans lowly, semi-quietly but as he gets more and more pent up he gets louder. (i think this is the case for most of the nct doms but oh well) he'll praise how good you make him feel - assuming you've been behaved enough - but that doesn't stop him from cursing under his breath at every chance he gets ,,..

doyoung

definitely has pretty moans !! he probably does whine, but i mean that in a dom way - if that makes sense? higher pitched moans but not pathetic, in fact it's probably paired with him whispering "fuck yes, good [insert ur fave petname here]". i think he's the type to kiss you a lot during sex and like... moan into your mouth; any space not taken up by the sound of moans will for sure be filled with the sound of his panting and his tongue dancing with yours.

ten

another semi-whiner. i always saw him as a dom but i'm sliiightly succumbing to the idea that he may be a switch... which is why i think there's so much BEAUTY in his moans?? ten makes really pretty, breathy whines and moans i'm sure, i don't particularly think he talks a crazy amount but rather short instructions. (yes i'm going back to dom!ten) "turn around." "get on your knees" "quiet." AH !! he always lets you know what he needs - however, sub!ten will just whine and squirm till you make him cum because he is most definitely a slut who takes anything:(

jaehyun

first of all, this man wrecks me to the fucking core, and i could talk about this for... a while. but his moans are definitely like, raspy high-pitched type. think about his vocals. esp in try again... i bet you they sound like THAT. i'm sure he talks a bit too, tbh he probably says rather textbook dirty things but it sounds so fucking hot when it's him. "yeah take it, take my cock" "fuck yes just like that", he loves how you whine when he moans right up next to you btw - it just makes him do it even more. oh, and bonus - he will never call you ANYTHING without prefixing it with my or daddy's. daddy's girl, daddy's boy, daddy's pet, my dirty slut... ahh<3

winwin

it's almost contrasting to jaehyun but sicheng's voice is so low. i can't explain this in any way other than that he's kitty, but his moans are so... puppy? and when he's fucked, he makes himself sound so dumb too. he's constantly slurring his words and biting his lip because he's trying to keep quiet but anyone who walks by the room will hear "mm.. m!!" because he just can't help himself :( when he's close he probably squeaks like taeyong and cums all over the place GOD i want him

jungwoo

oh god there's no doubt that jungwoo talks SO much during sex. he probably loses his fucking mind with how good he feels. he's such a good boy but sometimes you just need him to shut up - but he can't. he squeaks out a little moan when you push into him, or when you start touching his cock, but withn minutes he's babbling non-stop; "oh god oh god mommy/daddy i love it so much, a-ah like that, please~"

lucas

my brain used to be convinced that xuxi was a dom, but i'm now sure he's a switch. either way, his moans are pretty much the same. they're very heavy and... i guess manly is the best way to put it. in my head i can literally picture him being like "ughhh..." when you start fucking because he just feels like he's wanted to fuck you so desperately - yes, even if you fucked hours before. it's always so breathy and moany and i think he sounds like a bit of a fuckboy tbh... "fuck yeah" as he slides his cock into you? THANKS

mark

loud baby loud baby LOUD BABY:((( no matter how much you cover that pretty mouth of his he will be so LOUD!! he can't stop talking and whining and panting, kinda like jungwoo but honestly... more. he swears a lot too. he tries not to but he just can't help himself :( "aw shit... god shit!!!" under his breath UGHHFDGGDFDD SO FUCKING CUTE IM GONNA SCREAM !!! he's very polite though, so he always says sorry every single time :( he babbles like hell when he cums, he can't stop himself, again like jungwoo. "i'm gonna cum i'mgonnacumi- i'm -- ah fuck, shit--!!"

xiaojun

two words. action figure. everyone knew that was coming, HA - i'm sorry but THAT verse means we all know how he sounds. i think he tries his best to talk normally while you edge him but his little voice keeps on wavering and cracking and just... he can't help but sound all pretty and pathetic :( but surely dejun has some (very frequent) moments where he can't keep his front anymore and just whines like a whore because it feels so good<3

hendery

the things i'd let this man do to me:))) i think at first he'd actually try and hide his moans because he feels like that's what he's supposed to do, but no. for me personally, i know i would NOT LET THAT HAPPEN !! he probably sucks the air in through his teeth in an attempt to hide it - it's very fucking sexy when he does that, granted - but he can't keep doing that for long. i think he hums and laughs when he can't keep it in any longer because he almost feels some kinda defeat but then he just moans semi-loudly and lets out a "good girl/boy/baby... let me fuck you, huh?"

renjun

renjun scares the fuck out of me. why? because his moans are fairly quiet. he's master and it S H O W S. he grunts quietly, maybe muttering things under his breath like "so fucking tight" "mmh there you go..." to fill some silence but he does it subconsciously; he goes so far into domspace sometimes that he just can't control himself. when he's close he talks through his teeth and he's like "i'm. i'm gonna cum baby..."and the more you whine on his cock the more he just laughs at you because he's a sadist hhhhhhhhhhh.........

jeno

most definitely a fun one... you see when he's sub, he pants and whines and drools all over himself like a big dumb puppy boy and he just breathes so heavy n his moans are all shaky... if he's a brat he will try and talk big but he can't take it, he just gets so pathetic and !!! but dom jeno is fucking TERRIFYING because he talks down and tries his best to intimidate you. he chuckles and degrades you, but one of his faves is when he can big himself up under his breath. "look at you now. you love this fucking cock."

haechan

this isn't good for my mental health :) i fucking cannot TAKE this brat :) AHA! hyuckie is honestly such a whore, he's bratty and rude and always talks back at you like he's the king of the fucking world. he's constantly laughing at you and trying so hard to make you feel like you're not worthy but he feels so good he just gets fucked dumb by you :( he is SO loud too. he wants everyone to hear what a dirty whore he is and he makes sure he puts on his prettiest pornstar moans. he whines like his life depends on it. on the off chance that he's being a good boy, he begs and cries and whimpers when he finally cums - and i mean CRIES. sobs. he'll be heaving by the time you're done with him, but god he fucking loves it.

jaemin

fuck... fuck okay... well firstly he loves to talk. we all know how much he praises and how he's constantly showing his love off... that doesn't stop at fanservice, nope. he will fuck you like a ragdoll and keep calm and composed as ever, talking down to you as if you're in his lap for a soft cuddle. "baby loves nana so much hm~?" "oh you really love that don't you?" "you know you're so pretty. nana wants to cum in you so bad~" yes, he calls himself nana because he's a cocky fuck and loves how it sounds. especially when you're moaning it for him.

yangyang

i'm kinda in 2 minds about this... on the one hand, he's kinda like hyuckie in that he whines a LOT. but he can actually keep his composure - he's a breathy whiner, he's not quite as loud and he most certainy doesn't crumble as easily. (that's not to say that he can't, he most definitely can.) on the other hand i think when he's in a more neutral headspace rather than subby, he talks to you like a total fuckboy. not in a mean way but he's just like "hah. i know you love me fucking you like this." he gets so cocky and he sucks hickeys into your neck and hums quietly<3

shotaro

he's such a shy baby :( he wants to moan so much but he probably gets all self conscious and tries to hide it... so you gotta make him feel safe :( when he does he whimpers and it's so pretty and pathetic. the way he wells up with tears and hitches his breath is. adorable. he whispers "thank you... ah..." every time he feels that good and by the time he cums it's just falling from him like a waterfall :( the more comfortable he feels, though, the sluttier he can get... he will always be a good boy but i think he lets his whore side come out every once in a while <3

sungchan

last but most certainly not least, yet ANOTHER boy who pains me to the core. i think sungchan whimpers too. THERE I SAID IT. his cock is too big for his own good so he just... needs you to do SOMETHING to him :( he always sighs at first, maybe hissing just a little but then he gets to a point where he's quietly whimpering because he just needs to cum so fucking bad <//3 "need it... p-please..." he's always nervous to use titles but if he wants to cum he has no choice :( when his dom asks please who? he blushes bright red n mumbles a little "please mommy/daddy... 'm so good..." and god yes he is he deserves it so much ugh<33333333333333

[footballffbarbiex]

Id love to see Trent begging. Like she’s straddling him but she’s constantly teasing him, never sliding herself all the way down whilst Trent’s going actually insane whenever she just lets the tip in for a bit and then slides out again. So he’s just a constant begging mess pleading her to do something, anything, he just needs to be inside her asap

"Please."

One single word with oh so much emotion dripping throughout it. The look Trent gives you as he breathes deeply through his nose is one that will be etched into your mind for as long as you live.

Lust and frustrations clouds everything. His dark eyes now appear unnaturally so in a contrast to his paling lips as he bites down, teeth applying so much pressure the area beneath appears almost white.

"Stop it," your hand connects with his thigh, the sound worse than the feeling and it snaps him out of it. "Good boy," you whisper, hand splaying over his chest as you lower yourself back down onto him. You feel the thickness of his head parting your folds, pushing inside of you just enough to begin to stretch you open with the first two inches when you pause, making him groan again.

"Problem?"

"No," he shakes his head, answering too quickly.

"I thought you wanted this? Didn't you beg not to use a condom? Didn't you ask to feel me without?"

"Yes." You reward his honesty by taking another inch and his eyelids flutter closed as you tighten your pussy around him once, twice, three times.

Trent's hands ball into fists at your waist. He'd promised he'd be good. He wouldn't rush you, wouldn't try to take control, wouldn't make demands. But you've teased him. You've edged him. You've allowed him a physical taste of how you feel if he was to fuck you bare. You've taken him to a place where his pleads have turned to praise and back again.

"I need to be inside you. Properly." he adds, knowing you'd find the inches within you to be a loophole to his request.

"You said the same when I had your cock in my mouth. My hand was no longer good enough for you. You needed more then and you need more now."

"I do. Need you to fuck me. Please baby, please fuck me good."

"You're being greedy." you tell him.

"I said please."

"You did. And that's why I'm going to take my time," you say in a bored tone as you take another inch, and another until you're fully seated, his cock fully stretching you in ways only Trent can. "Open," you tell him, reaching forward and pressing two fingers to his lips. He does, sucking your fingers into his mouth and coating them in spit. Pulling them back from his mouth, you apply your now wet fingers to your swollen clit and begin to rub.

Your pussy contracts, tensing around him as your nerves react, pleasure flickering to life as you look down at him. "You're going to lay there while I play and cum. You're going to suck my nipples when I ask. And when I'm done, you can thank me and you'll be rewarded for your patience."

[sparxwrites]

(Inspired by this post.)

Part of the Eldritch Boatem series.

[ao3]

The narrative is coming to get him.

Scar’s always been one for telling stories. It’s a remarkably effective way of getting what he wants. Not easy, no – though he makes it look easy. But it is effective.

Everyone loves a story! Hermits love a story, especially; there’s a reason he’s ended up with Hermitcraft as his home server. He’s yet to find a server where the players don’t, though. You tell the right story, and people will give you anything. Anything. It’s like having a masterkey to every lock in the universe. You pick a story, and you set the seed of it, you nurture it, you tame and control it into an extension of your will – you shape it just for the listener, and then watch as their heart opens up soft and half-voluntary beneath your hands from the flattery of it all.

The danger of opening locked doors for fun and profit, of course, is that some doors are locked for a reason.

Which is why Scar is careful with his stories. He tells stories about people – that diamond chestplate for five hundred friendship points, they’re valuable, I promise – or things – you need to flatter the enchanter, or it won’t work, just whisper some sweet nothings – but not the universe. You don’t tell stories about the universe. The universe has enough stories of its own to be getting on with, thank you very much.

The respawn is one story, or rather many, hundreds of stories told about stories across thousands of worlds; as many tries at your story as you want, if you believe that, and you may only tell this story once, if you believe that, and between two and seven tries, apportioned to each according to what they deserve, and when the red descends at last life you will kill those whom you love, and everything in between. Admins are another, wordsmiths capable and crazy enough to whisper sweetly to the universe and beg of it a favour or two; make me a world, a server, a haven and let me decide who to share my story with and let me trail my fingers across the source code of creation, let me dip into it, let me tweak and twist and pull. Creative mode, another; give us your story, and we will give you everything and trust us, there is space for the whole of the universe inside your head, would we lie to you? and come be we and be free.

Those kinds of stories – the big ones, the enduring ones, the ones that stretch within servers and across servers and between servers – are dangerous. Those kinds of stories are slippery, wont to get out of control. They get large enough to start telling stories about themselves in the blink of an eye, and then they’re gone, off the leash and with a life of their own. Scar is careful with his stories. He doesn’t make narratives about the Universe.

Grian, by contrast, has never been careful with anything, ever.

Scar’s not even sure if Grian realises he’s making narratives, half the time. He’s definitely sure Grian’s not crafting them. He just does them, just opens his mouth and lets words fall out in any which order he pleases, and lets a story out into the world without a single care for what it is or what it might do.

He starts stories for the joy of it, Grian does, with no thought for the consequences – and they are things of beauty, half-wild and un-collared and dangerous with it.

So, of course, it’s a Grian narrative that’s coming to get him. Of course it is! It’s Grian who looks at their ridiculous stack of boats and assorted junk, their newly-christened Boatem Pole, and says, we’re going to dig a hole under it. It’s Grian who says, Impulse, you can get through bedrock, right? Grian who says, I think we should make this hole into the Void the centre of our town.

Grian who says, it’s called the Boatem Hole, and it demands sacrifices, and we’re going to feed it.

But, of course, it’s not Grian that feeds it.

It’s Scar that falls in all the time, is pushed in all the time, loses his life and his possessions to the void over and over. He doesn’t mind overly much – Hermitcraft has a forgiving respawn narrative, as many tries as you want, death means very little here, be nice to those who’ve died, and there’s worse ways to go than the void. They make a joke of it, even, him and the rest of the Boatem crew – Scar the unlucky, Scar the klutz. Scar, who is the Boatem Hole’s favourite.

He should really have known better. A joke is a half-step away from a story, after all.

So what happens is, they make a narrative – him and Grian and Mumbo and Impulse and Pearl. A narrative about an improbably-balanced pile of boats, and a hole dug beneath it. A narrative about an impossible hole, hollowed out straight down and through the bottom of the world into the starving void below. A narrative about a void that picked a favourite, and pulled that favourite down into it over, and over, and over.

And the narrative is alive. The narrative is sentient. The narrative is hungry.

And Grian may have started it, Boatem Pole dig a hole build a town open the void make a sacrifice, but it’s Scar who finished it with it must like me. So, of course, the narrative is coming to get him.

Or rather… the narrative is not coming to get him. Because, Scar realises, as he wakes to the void all around him and against him and within him– as he wakes to perfect and absolute darkness, to stillness and silence and hunger that answers to the name of Boatem– it already has him.

[scaramoucheslove]

PLEASE expand more on that Zhongli brat tamer thing you posted 🥺

Brat Tamer! Zhongli x Brat!Reader (GN)

Listen to me

What to expect: Spanking, Size kink?(a bit), Choking, Teasing in public, Getting called “whore” once I swear, Zhongli as ur god, fingering? lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: AAA BRAT TAMER ZHONGLI NEEDS MORE APPRECIATION </33

(also im so sorry if this is shit even tho i spent so much time writing it?? hurr i apologize and i tried to make it as gn as possible! <33)

Zhongli loves an obedient sub that listens to him and obey his rules. You, were the perfect little baby for him. You were his obedient, perfect little baby. Sure, you’ve been accidentally bad a couple times here and there. But imagine if someday, you were curious enough to see what’s it like to test his limit. So, when you were acting out of the ordinary, of course he’d be suspicious.

It all started when you both woke up. He’d always wake up first, usually drinking tea at the dinner table and you’d always greet him. But today, you felt a little braver than usual and decided to just ignore him and went ahead to the kitchen to grab your breakfast. He raised his brow, but thought nothing much of it. You put your plate on the table and played with your phone while eating your food.

Zhongli cleared his throat, causing you to look at him with a confused look on your face. “Good morning” he said with a smile, a fake one if I may add. You ignored him and continued to play your phone and eat your food. You could see his smile fade away in the corner of your eye. “I expect a response, no?” you looked at him, and his expression seems blank. “Uh, morning?” you answered blankly before continuing to ignore him. He sighs in defeat, standing up to prepare a hot shower to cool him off.

Zhongli said he’ll be meeting up with a few people for a while, and of course you being you, decided to tag along. You were confused on what to wear—until you remembered your little plan to push his buttons. You smirked at yourself before thinking. You had an idea. You put on the most revealing clothes you’ve ever worn out in public just to mess with him. Once you were done getting ready, he doesn’t say a single word. His gaze was enough to make a person tremble, thus why you were averting his eyes the whole time. He simply grabs your hands and wrapped it around his and said nothing more than a simple “Let’s go.”

You finally arrived at the Teahouse after quite some time. The moment you two opened the door, all eyes were on you. You looked absolutely stunning. Your looks may even be enough to tempt a god. Zhongli clearly tried to ignore the situation and dragged you to the back and seated you both at the corner of the Teahouse.

The meeting overall was boring. Although it was pretty boring, you had to admit that hearing people talking about Morax and acting as if they know more than Morax himself was kind of funny. You yawned in boredom and continued to look around before your eyes landed to your boyfriend’s figure that was sitting right beside you. His eyes that are completely focused, the way he talks, and the way his tall figure is sitting straight, asserting dominance through small, simple things. You couldn’t help but feel excited just by looking at him. Your excitement caused you to land your hand on your boyfriend’s thighs as he was listening to some people talking and discussing about the geo archon. He looked at you, confused and you gave him a small, sweet innocent smile, in which he returned.

But what he didn’t expect was for your hand to go higher and higher, until he realized that your hand was basically almost touching his dick. Before you could do anything further, he slapped your hand away and came closer to your ear to whisper, “Behave.” That action alone caused you to shiver and it tempted you even more. Biting your lower lip, you decided to wait for the right moment. After everyone was done talking and discussing, they asked for Zhongli’s opinion. And just right before he gets the chance to talk, you took the chance and managed to place your hand between his pants without raising any suspicions. He flinched slightly, earning worried looks from other people and workers. “My apologies, I thought I saw something.” He said as he kept his composure. And surprisingly enough, they believed him. Thank god you were seated in the corner so that no one could see what was actually happening between the two of you. You palmed him through his pants slowly as he explained about his opinion. You could hear the slight shake on his voice and clearing his throat way more than he normally does, even though he looked completely focused and well composed. “Mr. Zhongli? Are you feeling alright?” someone said in which he responded with a slight nod, and a pinch to your thighs as a warning. You gasped quietly in surprise and stopped your ministrations before looking at him. His stare was menacing, daring you to make another move. In which you responded by looking the other way and pouting as you rest your hands that was palming him a few seconds ago on the table.

The trip back home was silent. You didn’t dare utter a word, not after all that. You looked fine and chill on the outside, But inside? You were trembling. Was it really a good idea to make your god angry? Is it even worth it? Your thoughts were racing as you asked yourself. But there was no turning back.

You walked inside the house slowly, trying to keep calm and collected. You knew you were in deep trouble the moment he shuts the door with a slam. You saw a glimpse of his beautiful, black hair with a gradient, glowing, neon orange color near the ends of his hair, which usually occurred where he’s focused like in battles, or if he’s really pissed. You didn’t really want to test him any further, so you just decided to follow his next commands and obey him. “What has gotten into you?” He asked, voice demanding for an answer. You turned to him, looking to the ground instead while fiddling your hands. He clicked his tongue and forcefully held your chin so you were met with his amber colored eyes. “Talk” He demanded. You were unable to form coherent words and ended up stuttering on your words. He shakes his head in disapproval and practically dragged you into the bedroom.

He lets you go once you’ve both reached your shared bedroom. You watched as he sat himself on the edge of the bed, looking down and letting out a sigh. The moment his eyes met yours, you immediately looked down, not prepared for his eyes to pierce through you so sudden.

“Strip.” He said lowly. Calmly. But you knew him. It’s always the calm before the storm. You stood there, silently, not moving in the slightest. You could feel the tension in the room. He was disappointed. Of course he was! He had all the reasons to be. He walked towards you slowly, observing the outfit you wore. One of his gloved hand stroking it smoothly as his other hand gripped your jaw gently and made you look into his eyes. “Tsk, I have given you such a simple task. But I know you humans simply cannot do anything yourselves.” He practically spat as he tore your clothes off with both hands. Your eyes widened, mouth slightly opened and you froze due to shock as he chuckled at your reaction.

His two hands grabbed you by the shoulders and threw you onto the bed roughly, a contrast to his gentle grip on your jaw earlier. You continued to freeze in your place and he took the chance to pin both your hands with one of his, as his big and strong body kept your smaller one caged. You tried to get out of his grip. But it was no use. No matter how much you try, he will always overpower you.

“Tell me, love. Were you being a brat on purpose?” He asked you with a teasing tone on his voice. You closed your eyes and gave up, exhaling the breath you didn't notice you've been holding while nodding your head slowly in shame and embarrassment. He chuckled lowly as he lets both of your hand go and flipped you over. You yelped in surprise as he positioned himself so that your stomach was on his lap and he places his hand to rub gently on your ass.

You cried out, “Zhongli please I’m sorry-“ “Now, now. It’ll hurt a bit. But you mortals really need to be taught a lesson to know their place.” He says as one of his hand stroked your hair and the other continued to move gentle motions on your ass. “Zhongli pleas-“ Smack. A loud noise echoed across the room as you jolted forward and you felt your eyes beginning to water. “Can you just listen to me, brat?” his voice sounded clearly annoyed. The room was quiet for a while, until he broke the silence. “Stay silent and take it like the good pet I know you are.”

The sound of your cries and sniffles could be heard in the rather silent room. You were sobbing, hands starting to go numb as you gripped them onto the bedsheets, your ass sore and red from all the painful and harsh smacks Zhongli has delivered. You were trembling. It felt like hours since he started and it never seemed to end. He eventually stopped and started caressing the spots he had abused minutes before. “I’m sorry my love, but If I don’t do this then… you’ll never learn from your mistakes.” He explained. You were still sobbing, but a part of you was relieved that it was over.

He got you off his lap and laid you down carefully onto the bed as you finally closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. That is until you feel a hand tracing your back and onto your underwear. You felt him come closer as he whispered in your ear “Seems like someone got excited. Well, it isn’t really a punishment if you enjoyed it. Don’t you agree?” you can feel his hot breath fanning your ear.

He flipped you over, your back now facing the bed. You hissed slightly at the sting because your ass still hurts from his ministrations. He gently spread both of your legs apart as he sat himself in between your now-parted thighs and pulled your underwear down, in which he threw across the room. You tried to cover yourself up but again, it was no use. You were now exposed for him and his eyes to devour. “But I’ll have to admit, seeing you in that revealing outfit where everyone can see really makes me…” he paused as he searched for the right word before continuing. “Jealous.” You prayed to the archons to make it out alive before answering him. “Oh? M-maybe you’re just mad they can probably fuck me better than you.” You’ve done it. You took back what you said about obeying him, but at the wrong time. “Getting brave now, are we? How ironic for someone who cried over a punishment moments ago.” he bitterly chuckles. “Well then, we’ll just have to see how hard I’ll break you tonight.”

He took off his gloves and immediately gathered some of your wetness on his fingers, combining it with the drool he managed to get at the corners of your mouth. He wastes no time as he inserts one finger into your needy hole. You gasped and held onto the bedsheets once more, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. God, his fingers were long. You can feel him filling you up as he kept pistoning one finger in and out of you. But then you started to whine for more. For him to fill you up more. “Humans are indeed greedy, but you’re my greedy little human, aren’t you whore?” you scrambled over your words before he used his free hand to wrap it around your throat and tightening his hold around it. “Answer.” He stopped moving completely and you whined as you finally managed to answer. “Y-yes!” “Yes what?” “Yes, my lord.”

[luciel-anciel]

Vows (Part 1) (InkyPages)

Part Two:

A/N: I have been big sad, lately :' )

Anyways, Does, anyone have suggestions, or ideas for Lovesick Tang? I've made Macaque the obsessed one too many times.

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TW: Toxic and Abusive Relationship, Obsessive Mindset, Assault, Implied Low Self-esteem, Insecurities and Toxic Mindset.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

"Leave me?" The dark-furred demon, spoke out in disbelief, The words left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He, tried to calm himself down, but his mind flickered to logic, to insane assumptions.

The scholar, coughed and gripped tightly on his shoulder bag, that contained essential necessities that could last him for days. "I'm not, leaving you, I just need some time for myself" He forced the words out his throat, which resulted with him stumbling with his words

"Please? I jus-" A plate was thrown at him and simply missed him the man, by an inch.

It made a defeaning sound when the porcelain object, came directly in contact with the floor. The white shards scattered across the dining room, with a single piece flying towards the brown-haired man's direction and, cut through the fabric of the bottom end, of the robes.

That was the fourth plate, this week

"Bold of you, to make that decision"

The anthropomorphic monkey's voice, was dripping with venom, no longer the sweet and gentle tone that Tang, used to enjoy listening too.

"I...What the-" Tang's was speechless, with how badly his black-furred partner reacted, to his simple request about wanting space. He, wasn't timid in nature, so it didn't make make him tremble, but rather was infuriated by their refusual to talk there relationship over.

He, always described his lover as someone that was calm and collective, that contrasted nicely to his, overly excited and curious nature, but for this past few months, It had been different.

Often times, Tang found himself wanting to cut ties with the feral demon, because he couldn't even visit his favorite noodle shop, without being bombarded about questions, regarding his platonic relationship with Pigsy, or if He'd come across with Sun Wukong.

The question, was always met with eye roll and grumbling, that nothing was happening between the two.

It seems, Macaque was insecure and scared, to lose him to another creature.

Shifting his circular glasses, The man sighed, and considered himself to be lucky enough, to keep a straight face and a partially calm demeanor, but that was because of his refusual and mostly self-restraint, to keep his argument from escalating any further.

Even when, the man, in his mid fourties felt he was too old to deal with this shit.

"You really didn't think this through" Their, eyes, illuminated a faint violet hue, as he snickered, chuckling bitterly but fortunately, his taunting laugh fell deaf to the brunette's ear and thought of this situation as something childish and not at all, serious.

"You, can't just walk out and leave me!"

Although, Tang kept a mature facade in the tense situation. It was his partner, that reacted terribly to this. His malignant eyes, reflected the serious expression of his lover, or ex-lover, at this point.

Those eyes, that was calm and still, like a peaceful night was now a surge of tsunami that would drown anyone that dared to look at straight in the eye

That's why Tang took a moment to avoid eye contact, not wanting to get lost in his sea of emotions as he considered himself to be a peaceful person, that was never the type to argue with anyone or cause drama and preferred to settle everything with a reasonable and civilized talk but...

Never thought, this is how his long term relationship, would end.

"My decesion is final!" Tang finally had to step his foot down and could no longer tolerate this unstable behaviou

It was starting to get on his nerves.

"I'll not come back until this odd behaviour of yours stopped!"

The scholar rather not fuel the fight, and call them insane, nor start any crazy conclusion, He didn't dare to tolerate this type of behavior.

After this, He knew that his partner needed therapy or perhaps both of them needed it.

"Now, If you'll excuse me..." The hazel eyed man, took a shaky breath and chewed on his bottom lip before slowly walking away to the front door.

The hallway seemed seem tight and the walls seemed to close, made him feel claustrophobic. Just mocking him that there, was a possibility that he'll forever be confined in this space, he uses to call home with little to no chance of ever leaving.

"I'll be on my way"

The wooden floorboard creaked with every heavy step that Tang took, The hallway seemed to elongate, never reaching an end.

"I-I, already lost too many people"

The shadows, started creeping from the corner, with the furniture being consumed by inky void.

"Lose? I'm not leaving forever. I just need some space, that's all. "

The small house, that once comforted the brunette, a place that be considered, to be peaceful.

Soon, turned into a hellhole.

[wiypt-writes]

Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

A Frank Adler One Shot.

Summary: It’s Frank’s wedding night… but you’re not quite ready to let him go just yet.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+) allusions to cheating…

Pairings:  Frank Adler x Reader

A/N: Just a little smutty one shot featuring everyone’s favourite Dirty Boat Daddy. Written for @onlyjamesbarnes 1.5k Follower Challenge. Prompt in bold. Congrats babe!!

Lyrics from Fall Out Boy- Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

Frank Adler Master list // Main Masterlist

❤️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔

I'm gonna make you bend and break,

Say a prayer, but let the good times roll

In case God doesn't show…

Frank had always been powerless to resist you. He was a moth to your flame, but like always, you play with fire and you get burnt.

But now, you were the one burning, burning hotter than the sun.

With a groan, you ground your hips down as you leaned back, rolling and rocking down onto him. That face, sharp chiselled jawline covered by a slightly nearer than usual scruff looked back at you, his perfect profile silhouetted against the moonlight which drifted through the curtains of the hotel room.

How could something that wrong feel so fucking right?

And I want these words to make things right, But it's the wrongs that make the words come to life.

"Who does he think he is?"

If that's the worst you've got, better put your fingers back to the keys

He shouldn’t have let you in, but you knew he would as soon as he fired you the message with his room number. Your signature knock had sounded across the plush suite he was spending his last night as a ‘single’ man in, and like a sacrificial lamb welcoming its slaughter, he’d opened the door.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I wanted to see you.” You blinked up at him. He was still in his slacks and dress shirt, from the rehearsal you’d sat through, tie discarded, collar open. He cut a stark contrast to the boat greased and oil stained, salty air cured man you were used to.

He held the door open for you, stepping back and allowing you in. Without a word you walked over to the grand windows the space provided, offering a look at the shoreline outside and below. The view was breathtaking at night, the moonlight shining off the waves as they lapped at the shore, mere metres away from where tomorrow he would take his vows.

Through the reflection of the window behind you, you could see him just as his hands gripped at your waist. You turned on the ball of your foot, manicured fingers running up his chest from his strong pecs to his collarbones and over his shoulders to around his neck, your lips quickly on his. Your tongue slipped inside, tasting a hint of scotch, a half drunk glass of which sat on the small coffee table to the right. Frank moaned against your mouth while your fingers slipped through the neatly trimmed hair of his neck.

You pushed against him slightly with your body, the back of his legs hitting the chair besides the coffee table and he took a seat, breaking your kiss.

“This shouldn’t-“

“Shhh.” You shook your head. “Just give me tonight, please.”

He stared at you with lust blown eyes, different to the playful glint he normally possessed when he used to look at you, as you thought for a second about your next move, bottom lip already swollen from his kiss between your teeth.

You knew he was a goner.

"Y/N," he managed to croak out as you straddled his lap, seating yourself over his now hard cock, the rough fabric of his dark dress pants constraining him, giving you just enough teasing friction agasint your sensitive inner thighs. His large hands slid up your thighs and under your light coloured, flowy dress as you moved your lips over his again, giving him access to your ass, finger tips grazing the barely there material of your panties.

You ground down against him, your hips rolling in a circular motion as he growled into your mouth, squeezing your cheeks with his hands. You kicked off your sandals, making a thud as they hit the plush carpet. A sound that matched that of your heart. A heart that squeezed in your chest, as if someone had wound and elastic band around its middle knowing that tomorrow you’d watch him takes his vows.

And everything would change.

Frank broke away from your lips, to lick and nip at your jaw and down your neck, tongue rolling against your sternum. His face drilled between your breasts, inhaling your scent.

Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and plucked them open skillfully, French manicured nails raking across his chest, causing him to shudder and groan. You reached for the buckle of his belt, undoing it with little trouble, lifting your hips slightly, showing a strength in your thighs as you lifted away from him, to undo his flies. You adjusted yourself, pushing up on your knees just a little to allow the room you needed to dip your hand just under his boxers waistline, gently gripping at his dick.

“No, not here.” He growled, teeth nipping at the shell of your ear. “I want you in the bed.”

The bed. Where he would spend his first night as a married man.

It was so wrong.

Yet you happily obliged.

It was a well practiced tango the pair of you had danced over the years, and now here you were, him keening underneath you with a desperation you’d come to know well.

You could feel his cock pulsing against your walls and it gave you the chills. You held the power and control as he struggled to keep his.

With a quick movement, Frank sat up, pulling you flush against his chest, the angle hitting you just at that pleasurable spot he always managed to hit within you. His head dropped, lips and teeth gently teasing your nipple, large hands splayed agains your spine as he lavished you with affection.

You started grinding down harder, looking for that clitoral stimulation you wanted and as you found it, he moaned deeply into your ear.

“I’m close, but I don’t wanna… not yet.” His words were a plea, a plea that he wasn’t ready to end, and you knew he didn’t simply mean tonight.

But it had to. There was no way around it.

One night and one more time, thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great

"He tastes like you only sweeter"

"Just...let...go," you purred against him.

"Oh fahk," he ground out as his feet planted firmly into the mattress and his hips thrust upward. It didn't take much, a few strong and hard drives and you were crying out his name, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you came around around him.

"Jesus, fahkk, I'm gonna fahking.... Oh fahk," he swore vehemently, his old Boston drawl thick as he drove hard into you for a final time, exploding his load deep into you, spraying your walls with ribbons of white cream.

The pair of you collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent. Frank kept you held to his chest as you both drew ragged, heaving breaths. After a moment, Frank pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, no words needed.

And you blinked back a solitary tear.

*****

I'm looking forward to the future, but my eyesight is going bad.

And this crystal ball, it’s always cloudy except for when you look into the past

One night stand

Frank had fallen asleep with you in his arms, not quite ready to let you go. But you were long gone by the time he woke the next morning, the only evidence you’d been in his room was a scribbled note on the pad on the night stand.

“Here’s to the first day of the rest of your life.”

He’d folded the note up and slipped it into his breast pocket, not quite sure why. Maybe it would keep you close to him in those moments he needed to feel you, who knows.

Who knows why any of this had started in the first place.

He watched Mary walk down the aisle first, her bouquet in her hand had been dropped as she had leapt into his arms for a hug, laughing as she told him how excited she was. He’d kissed her cheek and placed her down and she stood by his side, watching as his bride and her father started towards him.

It was then Frank’s eyes had found yours as you watched him, and he swallowed, his chest contracting.

He could still feel your eyes on him and he couldn’t get the image of you bouncing on top of his cock out of his head. He blinked as someone said his name, and he looked at the officiant, clearing his throat.

“Sorry, little nervous.” He apologised, flashing a cheeky grin before he took a deep breath.

A couple of I-Dos later, he was told to kiss his wife. So he did.

And all he could taste was you.

Man and wife walked hand in hand down the aisle to applause, and at the end they stopped and the new Mrs Adler peered up at Frank, a soft smile on her face.

“You happy?”

“Of course.” He smiled back.

“Good, because choosing me to spend your life with, well, I actually think it’s the second best choice you’ve ever made in your life.”

Frank blinked as he heard the click of the photographer's camera. “Oh? The second? What was the first?”

“Letting me into your room last night.” You grinned, your hand sliding up his tux, the diamond studded band catching the sun, glinting in the bright light.

Frank grinned at you, before he arched his eyebrow. “Time will tell if it really was bad luck to see my wife the night before.”

“Didn’t feel like bad luck to me,” you smirked, you hand gently tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as he dropped his head to kiss you, the cheers and applause once more chiming in your ears.

One night and one more time, thanks for the memories

[keeper0fthestars]

would you let me

din djarin x fem!reader (au)

summary: tattooed!din. guys you should know me by now, there’s no plot this is shamelessly soft and a little bit of filth (you can assume this takes place well after the events of ywmnd, but it can be read as a stand-alone fic)

warnings: Din without his helmet, 18+ explicit, fluff/smut, love and affection, oral f receiving, praise kink, y’all din is Hor-neeeee, dirty talk sort of, possessive din, cock warming, unprotected sex, oh yea- din doesn’t realize how enamoured you are with his tattoos.

a/n: Did I intend for this to be 2.8k words? Hahaha, oh god, in my head this was only 600 words at the most and i have nothing to say for myself, all i want is Din Djarin to be being safe, stable and happy.

✨immaculate✨moodboard at the bottom by: @bxbafett​

~~

His skin tingles where you still touch him.

The sweat has dried but he can’t yet bring himself to move from where he'd collapsed next to you on the pillows a few minutes ago. Sprawled on his stomach, he takes up your side of the bed, the comfortable weight of your leg bent over the back of his thigh. The heat of your mouth and the exquisite grip of your pussy would stay with him for days.

The peaceful glow blanketing the room hangs in contrast to the raging wind outside. The storm arrived unexpectedly before dawn and continues to rattle the windows every so often, a promise that it's far from over. 

Muscles protesting, he bunches the pillow under his arms. His eyes struggle to stay open and he sees you’re doing no better, not a lick of tension left in your body. His shoulders bulging, he rests his head on his forearms, lulled by the sensation of your slow fingers tracing the dark ink over his shoulder blade. 

He wonders what you're thinking about, he wonders if you even realize you’re doing it. Not that he minds. Not that he needed a reason to keep you in bed today. Drowsy and spent, the look on your face tells him you wouldn't be able to recall a single thing you’d carried over from yesterday’s to-do list. He likes days like this when the only thing on your mind is him. Even now, especially now, when all that exists is the delicious scent of you and he’s on the verge of dozing off and it's not even noon. He can't get enough of how fucking beautiful you are after he's fucked you. 

//

The dwindling fire dances in the corner of the room, creating shadows across the dips and valleys of his back. Coals begin to crackle but neither of you seems to care about the chill creeping back in the room. The window could be wide open right now and neither of you would even notice.

At the moment, other things occupy your mind. Lazy, your fingers continue over the smooth slope of his shoulder, repeatedly admiring the same path of black ink. 

With a languid exhale, he shifts, turning on his side, ruffling the toasty air under the quilt between you. One arm propped under his head, his other hand slipping warm underneath the blanket, hugging your hip, he settles heavy and solid beside you. 

Your eyes are drawn to the intricate pattern that spreads across his chest and curls around his biceps and disappears under the blankets. You know the significance of each piece of ink. The one on his shoulder, the one bigger than your palm is your favourite. Ever since he'd gotten it, you found yourself silently longing for something you’d never thought you’d want. But then, you’ve never done anything as reckless as being in love before. 

You've often wondered if he'd like that; to see a similar version of one of his tattoos somewhere on you, to watch him brush his fingers over it, or his mouth- tracing the pattern in the dark, knowing the shape of it from memory alone. Tender evidence of just how entwined your life with him is. 

The thought of it pulls delightfully inside your stomach.

When you look up, he’s already watching you. 

He sees the flash of eagerness in your eyes before you blink it away, he sees the cautious way you wet your bottom lip as you consider your words. He can see you’re itching to say something. 

"If I wanted something like this, would you do it for me?"

His brow flattens, his lips part and you can tell the question catches him off guard. You hear the hitch in the air but you don’t know the half of it. 

You do not know that his throat jams with adrenaline when he opens his mouth to answer you— he barely manages to swallow it down and level his voice enough to speak. He’s powerless to stop the grin that sneaks into the corner of his mouth.

‘Of course, I would.’ 

The kick of overwhelming pride in his veins is instant, a punch to his lungs. This timid little request sets off fireworks in his stomach, floods hot up his chest, flushing the roots of his scalp. Something so tangible, so primal he thinks he could reach in and touch it. He thinks if he does, it might lay him to waste. The more he visualizes you this way, the more light-headed he becomes. 

And then you weaken him further. Sweet little apples forming on your cheeks— and he gives in. Allows the sensation to shatter him.

His girl, his girl, wants ink that matches his. 

He wants to bask in it, drown himself in it. Arousal licks hot inside his stomach, tightens his cock so fast it makes him dizzy-  

Instead of on your hip, the heat of his hand is now curling around the back of your neck and his forehead collides gently with yours. Warm and solid.

He has to close his eyes, focus on you, or the muscles around his heart will squeeze right out of his chest and turn him into a puddle. His cock, painfully heavy between his legs.

Tethering himself against your warm brow, he lingers, focuses on your breath fanning down his cheek. Eventually, he comes back down again. 

You'd said you want him to do it.

You'd be wearing a part of him on your skin. Forever. 

Fuck.

How he wants it.

His lungs threaten to collapse again.

Gentle fingers squeeze the nape of your neck, spreading warmth down your spine. Nudging your forehead up, you are met with the imploring depths of his eyes carefully fixed on yours, circling your features. You watch his brows pull together, the earnestness on his face tugs at the strings around your heart.

“You would let me?” He asks.

You know exactly what he means.  Giving him the power to adorn you, stinging with needles.

To hurt you. Trust that he wouldn’t. 

Like his name hasn’t already been written on the inside of your heart since the day you met.

Your hand curves along the scruffy edge of his jaw, reaching further, tangling in his hair. Tipping your face up, your mouth slides between his supple lips and you answer him the only way you can.  

He melts immediately, nose pressing into your cheek, tugging you closer with a soft hungry moan. Stubble grazing, you’re lost inside the slick of his mouth, his tongue sliding deeper, reaching for yours. His hand trails down the curve of your back, his cock rigid, presses against your softness and heat swoops low in your belly. Much too soon he pulls away and you already feel his burning gaze as you struggle to pull your eyelids open.

Bloomed and dark, his eyes burn with adoration so intense it would blot out both suns.

"Where would you want it?" 

The softness in his voice makes your heart flutter. You already see the possibilities flickering in his eyes; his ink decorating you.  

Easing you back on the pillows, you barely get a chance to give his question any thought when you feel the ends of his hair tickling your jaw, his mouth ghosting over your clavicle. 

"Maybe here?" his voice lilts up at the end, satisfied at the goosebumps erupting across your skin.

He doesn't give you time to answer, instead, he grasps your hand, softly brushing his thumb over the tendons on the inside of your wrist. "Or, here."

And then it hits you and your mouth goes dry. “You’ve already thought about this.”

‘Yeah,’ he says softly, bending to slot his lips over your open mouth. ‘I have.’

His admission just about ruins you.

Ugh. This man.

Curiosity ignites inside you, in sync with an eagerness of an entirely different kind. One that charges your pulse, makes your voice weak.

‘Where would you want it?’ 

He's slow with his answer. Even slower gripping the blanket from underneath. Pulling it down, watching the satin edge slide over your skin, watching it slowly catch on your nipples. Bit by bit, exposing the soft fullness of your curves. Doesn't stop pulling until the blanket bunches around your knees. 

You watch his mouth tug into a crooked grin. 

Crowding over the side of you, he’s so long and so broad. Your skin tingles under his appreciative gaze. A warm hand trails up the side of your hip, fingertips counting ribs, so gentle it's almost ticklish. You struggle to breathe around the quivering in your stomach where your heart thuds erratically from one corner of your ribcage to the other. 

Unhurried fingers trace a slow semicircle underneath your breast.

‘I want one here,’ his head dips down, his nose following the swell of soft skin. ‘So I can see it every time I fuck you.’

Your pussy twinges, heat flaring all the way to your nipples. 

Oh.

Grasping a handful of your breast, he circles his tongue over your nipple and before you can put a single thought together, his large hand moves to your hip, squeezes, then melts into the softest of touches.  

“And I want one down here.”

You catch his gaze, blazing and dark, before his mop of messy dark hair trails down your stomach. 

He licks a hot stripe over the spot he's just identified on the inside of your hip bone, teeth nipping. Your core clenches painfully at the contact and your vision goes hazy. He is pleased with your splintered gasp, but you can think of a few other uses for that smug grin.  As though reading your mind, his open mouth finds more bare skin, hot and wet, scraping slower, pushing your legs apart. 

His voice low, possessive, ‘No one but me would ever know about them.’

The thought sends a spectacular sting of arousal around your ass and up your spine. 

Something only for him. Maker. He renders you so defenseless so fast your head spins. 

"So, what do you think?" his voice dips lower, his stubble scrapes up the inside of your thigh. "Where should we start?"

You know he just asked you a question but his thumb is toying with the seam of your pussy now and the words he just said have nothing to cling to inside your head. He’s slow about it, pressing just far enough to collect your wetness and push it up around your clit. Painting. Teasing. Dipping further each time only to pull away and bring it to his mouth. Spreading you wider so he can see how flushed and swollen you are and he hasn’t even used his mouth yet.  

“You gonna answer me?” Using his palm to pin your leg open, his mouth sinks into the inside of your thigh, teeth and all, and he hears you pull air from the beams of your ceiling.

“Tha-s not fair..” you plead.

He moans his agreement into the flesh of your other thigh. “We can finish this conversation after you cum.”

His mouth closes over your clit and your eyes roll back in your head. He doesn’t let up.

“Din-,” you gasp.

He pulls off your swollen clit and sucks the taste off his lips, watching you clench for him at the loss of contact.  

“Yeah?” 

You’re so fucking wet for him that his cock throbs, leaking between his stomach and the sheets. Bending his index finger he drags the side of his knuckle over your clit, pushing deep until he snags your entrance, holding you there. You’re already fluttering around him, so eager. With every clench, more slick leaks between his fingers. Your ragged breathing turns into the most filthy whimpers every time he laps at your clit. His other hand pries your fist from the sheet beside you, curls his fingers through yours and holds tight. Collects wetness on his tongue and leaves it on your clit again.

“You wanna cum on my mouth... or my cock.”

“Yes…” you plead, chest heaving, not sure if he even hears you. 

He doesn’t know what you’re moaning ‘yes’ to but he doesn’t care because your pussy is too fucking tempting to stop now. Two fingers buried to the knuckle, they twist and curl and he has to hold your hips from seizing and climbing off the bed when you cry out and come apart at the seams. 

He moans blissfully, mouth buried in your pussy, working you through it until your grip on his hair loosens and your thighs finally lay limp around his shoulders.  His mouth becomes patient, gently cleaning you up until you’re too sensitive to take anymore.

He crawls up to your mouth, forearms crowding you on either side, settling his weight between your legs. Your hands tug through his hair and he moans again, taking his time inside your mouth, sloppy and breathless.

Blissed out and shaky, you let him nudge you over on your side. Bringing the blanket over your bodies, he climbs up behind you like a massive wall of warmth. 

Soft kisses to your shoulder, his hand splays firm on your belly; he needs to be as close as possible, needs to fit himself between your legs, perfectly content to just keep himself there for the rest of the day if that’s all you wanted. 

He knows it’s not. 

Still keyed-up from your orgasm, the heavy length of his cock slides exquisitely through your folds, the wide ridges catch perfectly on your tender clit. He throbs hot and your eyes cloud over with a need so obscene, so sharp, it would take no effort at all to angle your hips and ease every inch of him into you. Your fingertips reach down, smearing your fingers over the blunt head of his cock and he twitches for you, leaking and hot, a broken groan shuddering within his chest behind you. The ache goes straight to your pussy.

His mouth gone dry, his hand like steel on your hip now. He holds delightfully still, right over your clit and he feels you shudder and clench, more heat spilling out around his cock. 

“Does my girl want more?”  His hand dips below the swell of your ass, he squeezes into your flesh, pulling you apart, making more room for himself, fixed on supplying you another heavenly inch of contact. You oblige and squeeze the muscles between your legs, giving him more friction and he keens for you, whimpering ‘fuck’  

He sees you bring your slippery fingers into your mouth, and he has to force his eyes shut and rein himself in, dazed at how dangerously close he is to that sweet blinding edge of oblivion. He feels you clench desperately again, knows it’s because you’re gathering more slick from his weeping cock and swallowing it down.

Pressing your ass into the base of his hips you arch your back, sliding him once more through the same path. The desperate sound he makes against the back of your neck makes you throb. 

He hums wet kisses into your neck, bringing three fingers soaked from his mouth to your nipple, rolling them over the hardened peaks. You shudder for him and grind harder into his lap, legs trembling, your nails digging into his arm.

“What d’you need, my girl?” 

Your only answer is a low whine. “I need you in me.”  

Grasping your knee from behind, he lifts your leg just enough to wedge his hips properly... ‘like this, you want me just like this’ ...and it’s effortless. He drags through your whimpers, through the haze of his own blurry desperation, burying himself into your slick heat all at once. When he reaches the hilt, you gasp high and tight, the stretch fucking divine. 

He groans through a string of filthy curses, low and needy and breathless through gritted teeth, ‘this what you want, just like this?’ A delicious ache burning deep in his stomach, he stills, waiting for you to breathe again. ‘...good girl, y-es,’ he hushes against your neck, ‘...relax for me.’

There is no more room for him to move but slowly, somehow, he still manages to rock into you, continues to gush praise into your hair, easing your leg down on his, ‘so fucking good for me,’  keeping you anchored, close and unmoving.

Your grip on his cock is intoxicating, nothing could ever come close. Buried deep in you is the only place he feels truly weightless. 

It’s a heady thing, the way you claim him, the way you light up when he walks in the door, how much you trust him, how much you care for him. It takes his breath away.  Erases every fear he’s ever had and every worry yet to come. 

Snug in your bed like this, forever is a real thing. 

//

Shielding you from the cold room, you’re both on the edge of sleep again when it occurs to him and he smiles. “You never answered my question, sweetheart.” 

You inhale with a soft contented sound, burying deeper underneath his arm.

“On my wrist.” Your drowsy slurred voice makes his heart swoon. 

“I want everyone that sees it, to know who I belong to.”

His arm tightens around your waist.

~~

TO BE CONTINUED...! HOPEFULLY :)

thank you so much for reading! I would love to know what you think of this! if you’ve every left me a comment on anything i’ve written -please know i’ve never forgotten it xx

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[sailorhyunjinz]

~ 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐚 ~

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝; SMUT!!! a smidge of angst and a lil fluff, felix x fem!reader. enemies to fwb, bullying!!!, highschool!au, blowjob, pierced!felix, mentions of complicated family relationships/bad economy, felix being rude lmao, PIV, unprotected sex (use protections ffs, this is a bad example), orgasm (m/f), cum, nicknames, shy reader, fingering. 

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝; 6.6 k 

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎; Consent is like tea or my personal favorite,,, tea slut HSAHSHA PLEASE im- anyways enjoy both tea and consent, both very very sexy and good for you

also,,, my first kinda long fic?? 

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺; Lee Felix. The class bully. Also the son of a wealthy business man. You didn’t have the same privileges, living alone at such a young age. After an arrangement Felix invites you to work at his fathers old tea shop but this relationship turns into something unexpected.

The cold wind blew on your exposed calfs, the skirt of the school uniform fluttering as your backpack was lazily thrown across your shoulder, your head turned to the direction the bus comes from. You were not the only one on that bus stop. Other students standing at least a feet apart from each other, all eagerly waiting to hurry back to their comfortable homes, eat dinner and start on their assignments.

You on the other hand had other plans. 

What was on your computer screen wasn’t the typical essay or sheet of physics questions. It was job applications. And lots of them.

A notification arrived, your phone vibrating in your coat pocket and as the screen lit up you saw a message. 

[ Rent due today y/n, have it in by 8 ]

Living by yourself in a dusty apartment that contained nothing more than a bed, a desk and a tiny kitchen overfilled with noodle packets was nothing to be proud of. You could barely afford that type of lifestyle since you were a student so how on earth were you gonna get rent in to the old lady that served as your landlord? 

You sighed, the packed bus rolling slowly on the way and stopping, there barely being place to stand in the crowded vehicle. 

Your apartment was right above an old tea shop, the owner being a wealthy man that owned several shops on the block. His busy lifestyle including buying and selling properties kept him away from his true passion in life; tea. What scared you was his resemblance to a person you knew. A person you knew too well. 

Lee Felix

His only purpose in life was to have fun. To ruin others. And he had every opporunity to do so. His report card was nothing but lies and money, his fathers wealth being able to buy him decent grades without lifting a finger. There was one, only one, instance where the young boy would try his best and that’s when intimidating others. His best skill. Those piercing dark eyes and knife-sharp jaw could leave anyone shaken for days. 

But do you know who his favorite person to bully was?

You. 

All the hurtful memories eventually started to merge together but one stood out clearly to you. It happened a year ago. You walked into the sunlit classroom, your other classmates sitting around their desks, chatting and showing each other photos, laughing happily. Friends was not something you had, more like acquaintance. The students you would greet and exchange a couple of words with but nothing more. Your assigned seat was in the third row, the one sitting right behind you being Felix himself. With a quick glance at the clock you looked underneath your desk, searching for the book you needed for english class, your eyebrows furrowing as you searched desperatly, turning every book over and ripping open your backpack, did you forget it at home?

“Looking for this?”

The cold voice sent a shiver down your spine, you slowly turning back, afraid of what evil gaze awaited you. You gulped as you saw his angular facial structure, his cheekbones pertruding as he held your english book in his hand, the arms of the white school uniform shirt being rolled up just enough to show off his blinged out watch, veins softly trailing upwards on his flexed arms. 

You nodded to which Felix scoffed. Sighing you stood up, standing at the side of his desk and all of a sudden throwing yourself over it in a quest of snatching it from his grasp but failing epically, you falling down onto the floor, scraping your knees on the rough wooden flooring of the classroom. You try to stand up but was quickly stopped by Felix grabbing your face with his other hand, his wrists decked out with multiple delicate chains, all jingling with his movements. 

Meeting his gaze made your skin crawl, his eyes almost animalistic as he looked deep into your innocent doe-eyes, smirking. His blonde hair falling on each side of his face, framing it like a renaissance painting since his stoic features was art in itself. Your eyes lingered a bit too long on Felix’s making the boy annoyed, before you knew it a clear liquid was spilling down your cheek, that not being tears but instead Felix’s spit. You flinch back as he waves the book infront of your face, tears jerking in the corner of your glossy eyes due to the humiliation, your other classmates forming a circle around the two of you, unable to do anything since that could mean the end of them. 

“You want this, you want it so bad? What’s that angel? You’re gonna cry?”

He crouches as your gaze lowers to the floor, hair hanging infront of your face as a shield from his degrading words as the tears started pouring out of you like water, mixing with Felix’s saliva. He laughs psychotically, the cold laughter echoing in the classroom, tiny specs of dusty floating around like bubbles in a fizzy drink. The bold boy puts down the book on the floor behind him before he raises his hand, you shutting your eyes tightly, expecting the worst but being surprised as his hand laces in your disheveled locks. He pushes a strand of hair behind your flushed ear, leaning in close enough for you to feel his breath hit the shell of your ear. 

“I’m gonna give it to you,,, but I want something in return”

You snap your head up to look at him, your eyes wide open, eyebrows hightened. 

“W-what do you want?” you say, only for him to hear.

Felix hums, running his tongue in the inside on his cheek before speaking in a low voice.

“You”

You choked on your own spit, coughing as you turned away from him. You could hear his laugh ringing in your ears and after your coughing fit you turned back hastily, eyes as big as saucers. This couldn’t be true, this couldn’t be what you though it was. In sheer panic you once again tried to snatch the book, crawling on the floor like a bug in order to snake around his back to have a chance to grab the corner of plastic outside of the textbook but being met with disappointment when Felix slammed his foot on it, you retracting your hand after being mere inches away from his shoe. The boy tsked. 

“I expect you at the school gate by the end of the day and if you don’t show up you’re gonna pay for it, understood angel?”

You nod, just nod. No words or mimicks. Simply a nod. His intimidation wiping the entire alphabet from your mind. 

He stands up, grabbing the book and throwing it at you before exiting the classroom, a evil smirk plastered on his face. The sharp gazes of other students around you made you want to escape but you couldn’t, class was starting in 2 minutes. 

♡ 

The sun shone it’s rays on your face, students exiting through the wide white metal gates. You ran your hand through your hair, pulling the straps of your backpack impatiently at you looked left to right, seeing the flowers blossom out in the rather windy weather. Suddenly your wrist was grabbed by a hand wider than yours.

It was Felix.

His closeness made you gulp loudly, a lump nestling into your stomach as you felt your anxiety rise, scared of what he might do to you even if you did find him strangely attractive even though he was a complete asshole. But who didn’t? The entire school was ready to give up their life in order to even be this close to the boy, girls and boys alike. You shook your head, wanting to get rid of the silly thoughts that clouded your mind. Only after minutes did you realise that your legs moved on their own, you being dragged by Felix, his hand still on your wrist. 

“W-where are we going?” you inquired, the wind blowing on the blonde pierced boy, his angelic hair bouncing with every step. 

“Don’t worry about it” he said, not speaking a single more word during the entire time he held your wrist and walked with you in the spring weather. 

All of a sudden the two of you were standing infront of the tea shop, you lifting your head to glance upwards at your dusty window that was right above the tiny wooden sign that said “Tea Shop”, swinging rustily back and forward. Felix retrieves a key, unlocking the corrodated wooden door, the color matching the sign above. 

“Wh- how do you know-” 

Felix hushes you, closing the door behind you before throwing the keys on the counter. 

“I don’t care about what you have to say. My father owns this place and I usually hang around here whenever it’s closed.” 

“Do you work here?” you asked with a voice filled with curiosity. 

Felix starts laughing his signature laugh, it being laced with nothing but iniquity. 

“Work? Do you think I need to work? I’m the only child of a wealthy family, I’m pretty much settled for life”

You nervously look down at the floor, only being in the tea shop a couple of times before it was closed for business.

“Well,,, I know that your father owns this place, I live in the apartment just above so-”

You were quickly cut of by Felix slamming his hand on the table, standing behind the checkout counter and leaning over it with his two arms as pedestals. 

“Why?”

You looked at him confused before your eyes gazed across the wall of glas cabinets displaying their finest china. Teapots with squiggly handles, painted with the utmost attention to detail, the colors of the scenes painted contrasting nicely with the eggshell white background. Small lamps were installed above each teapot, illuminating the work of art even more. 

“Why what?” you said back, still in trance from the beauty of the teapots.

“Why do you live alone?” His eyebrows raised.

“I never said that!” 

“y/n, that apartment is barely enough for a fucking mouse, there’s no way you could live there with someone else”

Damn, how did he know that? You had no other choice but to nod timidly, curling your hand into a fist.

“Don’t have the best relationship with my parents and since they aren’t wealthy like yours I have to do my best to find a way to support myself” you spat out at him, annoyed at his many questions. 

“Touché” Felix said shortly, shrugging his shoulders.

After a long moment of silence the blonde boy spoke again;

“Let’s make a deal, I’ll get you a job here and I’ll join you but only because you’re stupid and need my help, not because I want to be here”

Your eyes light up, like an excited child you dash toward the counter and place your hands near Felix’s, looking at him with twinkling eyes. 

“Really? You would do that?”

Felix nods.

“But don’t get too excited, you haven’t paid your end of the deal yet”

“Tell me! I’ll do anything, I promise!” you says quickly, smiling widely at Felix’s deadpan face.

“Suck me off”

Your previously bright smile faded in a matter of seconds, now turning into pure confusion. 

“Wh-what? I can’t do that! Are you crazy?!”

Felix scoffs, walking towards the door in a cocky manner with his black backpack over his shoulder, wearing black ripped jeans that were strictly banned in school but no longer warned to Felix by the teachers. The schools logo embroidered on the white flowy shirt that was unbuttoned, exposing his brand name t-shirt. 

Just in time you managed to block the door, his lips inches from yours as he sighed, smirking down at you. 

“I’ll do it! I will do it!” 

You blurted out, you had no other choice but to do it. Seeking other jobs had been impossible since you were only a student without any work experience, not having many other skills other than procrastinating and sleeping. You needed this in order to survive. You needed him. 

The boy pushed you against the entrance door, placing his forehead against yours. 

“Of course you will” Felix whispered in a voice deeper than the ocean, causing you to helplessly gulp and drop down on your knees, them hitting the floor with a thump. His small but veiny hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it in a swift motion, metal hitting each other. You were lost deep in thoughts, simply staring at his crotch whilst rethinking your every life decision. Wondering how on earth you got to this point, soon having your mouth stuffed with your bully’s dick. 

Thank god that he was at least hot. 

Felix popped his dick over the band of his underwear and as if you hadn’t had enough surprises today one last one awaited you. A silver metal barbell lodged right beneath his pretty red tip, his dick already hard as he gave it a couple of pumps. Your mouth fell agape, cheeks heating up as you struggled to keep a straight face. Felix being the tease he is had to comment;

“What? Bigger than you thought?”

You scoffed from his boldness, not believing your ears. 

“N-no! Get over yourself you ass”

“Enough talking princess” Felix said in a deep voice, rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on your plushy lips, them being coated with a layer of saliva from you repeatedly lickning them out of nervousness. 

There was a moment of awkwardness, you not being sure where to place your hands before you grabbed the base of his girthy dick, pursing your lips and latching them onto the tip, sinking down gradually in order to not choke immedietly, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more than you already had. 

Felix let out a strained groan at the sensation, you feeling the cold metal as you flattened your tongue, licking a fat strap on the underside of his cock earning yet another groan. The blonde laced his fingers in your hair, tugging on it slightly in order to control the sinful sounds dripping out of his mouth. You whimpered against his dick, there barely being any room to breath as your nose was hovering just above his abdomen, impressed by your own gag reflex but that didn’t last long, Felix now shoving your head down his length, making you choke. 

“Wow, is there anything you can do right? Can’t even suck me off properly”

You can only hum in response, sending shivers down Felix’s spine from the vibrations, the boy feeling the knot in his stomach tightening. The hair flies in front of you face as you bob your head down his cock that was equally as veiny as his decked out arms, feeling the metal hitting your bottom teeth a couple of times. Tears teased the corners of your eyes as you were throat deep on Felix’s member, your hands slightly sweaty from the butterflies in your stomach. Eventually Felix started to weaken in your grasp, small grunts escaping him as you hollowed your cheeks, mascara staining your heated cheeks. 

“f-fuck,,,yes just like that,,ah-”

Luckily for the both of you the shop was located in a rather desolate area of town therefore no bypassers saw the scandalous view through the door that was decorated with a small foggged window. But did Felix care? Not really, the boy was bold enough to get sucked off in public if the opportunity presented itself. 

You looked up at him with the most innocent eyes you could muster, spit starting to dribble down your chin and landing on your skirt, forming slightly saturated patches on the fabric from the wetness. The blonde boys useless comments didn’t make it any easier to withstand this agonizing process. 

“Ah,,, never thought I would be seeing you like this, thought I had degraded you enough but this is just another level of humiliation, isn’t it y/n?”

The hand that was previously tangled in your hair was now moved to your stained cheek, him carefully swiping his thumb across the warm skin but you furrowed your eyebrows, swatting his hand away causing him to scoff before being interupted by his own loud moan, you pulling off and kitten licking his tip, coaxing his impending orgasm. 

It didn’t take long before the boy was shutting his eyes tightly, his jaw slacking as a last low vibrational growl ringed in your ears, his eyes still piercing yours while the thick white liquid spilled out of him, coating the metal bar and seeped into your mouth, your dry lips now getting a coat of clear gloss, the rest dripping down onto the floor and your dark colored skirt. 

You shook your head as you looked around the shop, not wanting to spit out his salty seed right on the floor but Felix simply shook his head back at you, grabbing your face gently. 

“Swallow”

Goosebumps erupted on your skin from his intimidating voice, as if you’d been cast under a spell you nod, swallowing the droplets of cum harshly, the sound of your loud gulp causing Felix to hum and with a smile, ruffle your hair before zipping himself up and running a hand through his own hair, exposing his forehead for just a bit. You stand up on your own, legs wobbling as you don’t even expect the rude boy to help. 

“You start tomorrow after school, my father will only be happy to know that someone actually want’s to work in this shithole. I’ll join you but once again, not because I want to but because your stupid head will mess everything up.”

You nod, only now noticing how scruffy the rest of the teashop looked, moving boxes piling up like the dust in the windowsills. You jerked your head to the side, eyes wandering all over the place, everywhere from the wittering plants to the miscellaneous stacks of files. 

The both of you step out of the dusty shop, the cool air hitting your cheek, now remembering the makeup that was running down it. Without saying a word Felix tries to escape but you stop him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t turn around, staring at the road ahead of him. 

“Thank you”

You whisper out, your hair fluttering in the wind, feeling yourself getting emotional from his seemingly sweet gesture. Felix starts walking, the sound of his footsteps getting fainter as the disappears down the sunny asphalt road, leaving you standing infront of the shop before you go behind the shop, entering your burrow of an apartment.

♡ 

You walk to the teashop in the floral spring weather, wondering where Felix had been all day since he wasn’t in school this wednesday where lectures went in half speed. Arriving at the shop everything was surprisingly closed. You peeked into the window, standing on your toes as if that would improve your vision but gave up quickly after, only seeing the scene from yesterday, the same old piles of rubbish. 

A light tap threw you off guard, you yelping and jerking away before noticing the blonde hair, Felix greeting you with a jingle of keys in his hand.

“Wanna have the honors? I mean, it is your first day after all” 

You respond with a small “yes” before grabbing the keys from his hand and unlocking the entrance to the stuffy teashop, coughing as you step in from the dust that twirled all around the two of you. You walked over to the sad plants that were placed haphazardly in the windowsill, swiping your finger over the leafs and closely examining the dust that rubbed off, blowing it away softly before turning to Felix that was nearing the pile of random files. 

“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do before we can actually brew tea” 

He didn’t smile, visibly annoyed. Felix went into the back, behind the beaded curtain he retrieved a bucket of cleaning supplies. 

“You mop the floors, I’ll clean some of the heavy stuff away” 

Felix said, his voice still in that notorious deep tone. 

“Not fair? There’s not even a mop which means I’ll have to do it by hand?” 

Felix scoffed, throwing a old rag at you before turning around and grabbing a moving box filled with god knows what. You sigh, grabbing the bucket and emptying the contents, the brushes and strangly colored bottles of cleaning solution spreading across the counter before you went behind the beaded curtain, being met by a murky kitchen that hadn’t been cleaned in what seemed like forever. You sighed, looking around and opening cabinets only to be met with half broken porcelain and cobwebs, the shelf at the top displaying a multitude of metal cans filled with loose tea that had probably gone tasteless. With a disgusted face you close the cabinet, instead filling up the bucket with water and adding dishsoap in lack of other cleaning substance. 

Hours ticked by, Felix sighing and huffing out of annoyance when carrying out and sorting through countless boxes while you cleaned the floor and dusted every corner, the shop transforming right before your eyes. The two of you eventually ended up in the kitchen, you observing every cup for cracks and disposing of those that showed just that as Felix was washing those that you thought looked presentable. Felix tried his best to not drop the cups despite his slippery fingers in a pathetic attempt at trying to do the dishes, it was clear that he had never in his life had to do this which made you roll your eyes, thinking about the boiling anger you had at this pompous and spoiled boy. 

“Do you like living alone y/n? ” 

The question was rather unexpected, making you choke on your own saliva. Never in your life had you thought that he cared about you. You shrugged your shoulders, wanting to appear unbothered.

“y-yeah, I wanted to be more responsible, I mean we are adults soon and nothing is served on a silver platter but I wouldn’t expect you to know.”

Felix smirked, seeing right through your lie but choosing to not taunt you. You felt vulnerable from the question but instead of continuing the awkward silence you wanted to get to know him better, maybe he wasn’t such a dick after all, maybe his tough guy personality was only a facade?

“What’s with that piercing?” you said, pointing at his groin with your chin making Felix laugh, getting shy from your question but snapping back to his cold outer self. 

“It was a bet and as you can see I lost” he scoffed before continuing, “wanna see?”

Your eyes widened, cheeks heating up before stammering out;

“N-no, Felix you’re disgusting!” you say in desperation for an answer but Felix only laughs even more, almost annoying you. 

“Well it wasn’t so disgusting when you were sucking me off, have you forgotten babygirl? Maybe I should teach you your place again.”

You gulped, not answering but instead just staring at him, a cup frozen in your hand as Felix locks his eyes with your, tilting his head in a cocky manner. You harshly place the cup down, storming out into the area where racks upon racks displayed the many tea sorts that were stashed away somewhere in the shop, Felix retrieving them earlier in the day. You start sorting through them, seeing a paper with orders on a clipboard and deciding to check the different kinds. Everything from oolong to pu’er to herbal was lined up in both teabags or loose tea leafs and surprisingly Felix did a good job, everything displayed in pretty and uniform lines. Before you could put a dash for a variety of tea that was missing. Felix sticks his head in between the beaded strings of the curtain, his eyes twinkling. 

“Want some tea?”

For the first time he seemed cute. Not scary or intimidating, just cute. By the way his blonde locks fell infront of his face to the way his earrings were jingling, fading out to his angular facial structure. 

You nod shyly, placing the clipboard on a random shelf before scooting over to the kitchen, seeing that Felix had placed out a white teapot with cobalt blue details, a floral pattern that contradicted to the eggshell white base. On the counter stood a small brown paperbag with black tea and right next to it a small tray of white sugarcubes. 

“This seems awfully complicated for making tea” you say, looking at the red kettle boiling on the stove, there not being an electric kettle in this old establishment. 

“What you expect? That I’ll be satisfied with you serving some watered down tea from a teabag? There’s a process you know.”

“Wow, and this is coming from Lee Felix? The son of a rich man and also the schools scumbag?”

Felix snaps his towards you, previously looking at the piping hot kettle. He licked the inside of his cheek, exhaling sharply through his nose, turning his cheek towards his shoulder, a momentary pop being heard before he looked at you with his dark eyes.

“I’m being nice, take that to your advantage and I’ll break your kneecaps”

You nodded and he smiled, astonished by the duality of this man. 

“Are you just gonna stand there? Come closer”

You stepped closer to the counter, your breath hitching when you felt Felix’s chest again your back, his hands leaning against the counter and trapping you between the two. You swallowed harshly, eyes darting over the various equipment needed to make a simple cup of tea. 

“Open the tea pot maybe?”

Felix said, sighing. You feeling his warm breath against the outer shell of your ear, his voice sounding even more dangerous when it was right beside you. You grabbed the blue detailed teapot and opened it, only to see a metal strainer already a part of the pot. Doubtfully you grabbed the little packet of loose leaf tea, removing and placing down the clip that was hindering it’s aroma from escaping the luxurious leafs. The fragrence of the tea hit your senses, the smell almost addictive. 

“What tea is this?” 

You said, turning the bag in you hand, looking for any type of lettering that would bring you closer to an answer.

“Russian earl grey. It contains bergamot orange making it more pungent”

You hummed, being to scared to turn around and face him, you now zoning out whilst your eyes were stuck on the awfully colored tiles on the kitchen wall. 

“You’re supposed to drink it y/n, not smell it”

Felix stated causing you to snap out and notice that you’ve been holding the bag to your nose, scrunching your nose ever so often. 

“Oh yeah,,, right,,, sorry. How much should I put in?”

You say, tilting the bag and slowly watching dark colored particles spill into the metal strainer. Felix slowly put his hand on yours, tilting the bag even more. You could feel your heart in your throat, your hands starting to sweat from his close proximity. His hand was warm for such a cold person. 

“It’s supposed to fill up one third of the strainer, remember that”

You mewled out a quiet “yes” as he put the bag down, removing his hand from yours. The next step was obvious, filling up the tea pot with hot water. Just as you were about to grab the black handle of the shiny red kettle Felix smacked your hand away, him grabbing it instead.

“It’s hot and I can’t trust someone as stupid as you with it”

“I can grab a kettle you know? I’m not that weak-”

“Shut it”

You pressed your lips shut as Felix pressed himself against your back, carefully reaching and pouring in the steaming water and seeing the water droplets diffuse up into the atmosphere. He carefully put the lid back on the pot and backed away as he put the kettle back on the stove, turning it off. 

“What do we do now?” 

You asked, turning around and leaning your butt against the cold counter.

“We wait for 5 minutes, the steeping time is different for different teas, you’ll have to learn them when working here.”

You nod attentively, staring down at your shoes and turning your heels against the dark wooden floorboards. 

“I wanna change the deal y/n”

Your head shot up to the blonde boy, him standing close by in all his glory, not wearing his school uniform but instead a black t-shirt, of course having a obnoxiously loud designer logo in the front just like the belt that was resting on top of his black slacks. His bracelets jingled everytime he moved his hands, this time wearing dainty silver rings to match with his wristwatch and shining piercings. 

“W-what why? Are you gonna fire me?”

Blood was boiling in your veins, not knowing his intentions yet but knowing that they were just as sinister as the boy himself. Before you knew it his lips were attached on yours.

Your heart skipped a beat, knuckles whitening as you held onto the counter from sheer panic. His lips were softer than expected, pressing gently as he tilted his head, his eyelashes feathering over his closed lids. His hands traveled up your clothed body, exploring every inch of you. The soft sound of lips smacking against each other ignited a feeling deep in your core. You were pushed closer to the edge of the counter, his body so close, leaving you with no choice but to jump up on the metal surface. The coldness radiated through the thin fabric of your pleated skirt, hitting your aching cunt that was already dripping from Felix’s simple actions, his daunting aura clouding your mind with sinful thoughts. 

“I’ll raise your pay if you fuck me, please y/n”

He whispers against your plush lips. You hummed, hesitating before slowly nodding, not being able to think clear with your heart beating like it’s about to protrude from your chest. He smiles slyly before reattaching his lips onto yours, his wet and sharp tongue running over your swollen bottom lip, desperatly wanting to taste your tongue. Your lips parted as you moaned into the kiss, giving him the perfect opportunity to pry himself into your mouth, the kiss getting sloppier, Felix growing needier as the seconds on the large clock on top of the door frame ticked. The blonde boy placed himself inbetween your legs, his veiny hands placed on your knees, seperating your already shivering legs. Without knowing what you were doing you cupped Felix’s cheeks, feeling the sharpness of his jaw against your soft hands.

Why did you pull him closer? He’d hurt you so bad in the past, everyday was living hell because of him and his deeds. A lightheadedness hit you as memories scrolled past your consciousness. Memories still painful, tender as open wounds. But for him you could forgive anything. Forget, just to see him smile at you.

His cologne was strangely addictive, the musky smell mixed with the scent of his soft sunkissed skin. You moaned softly against his lips as his fingers traced lightly over your exposed panties, the skirt already folded up your thighs. He hummed in delight, feeling the soaked fabric sticking against your pulsating cunt. 

“I’ve waited for this for so long y/n”

You looked at him with confusion in your glossy eyes. Waited, for you?

Within a matter of seconds his fingers pushed aside the wet patch of fabric shielding you from the cold air, only to insert a finger inside of your desperate hole causing you to gasp. A second finger joined close by and Felix groaned, feeling your tight walls around his glistening digits. You had so many questions but not enough power to say them without stuttering.

“W-waited for,,, m-me?”

His fingers curled upwards as you finished your sentence causing you to grip his wrist, the squelching sound of your pussy pleasing the blonde boy as he pumped his fingers into you relentlessly.

“That’s how I get attention. You aren’t impressed by materialistic things so I did what I had to”

You couldn’t believe your ears. All that to get your attention? He succeeded but he would never understand the emotions you went through because of him. The hatered you thought would never melt away suddenly did, you becoming nothing more but a whimpering mess from his touch. 

A thump was heard from your head hitting the cupboard, the pleasure firing through your body as your small cries echoed throughout the small kitchen. A sudden feeling of emptiness caused you to sigh in both relief and frustration. Your previously shut eyes slowly drifted open, panicked when you see Felix unbuckling his belt, letting both the fabric of his pants and underwear fall to the dim floor. 

Somehow his leaking cock looked prettier this time around, the shiny piercing distracting to the eye. Your mouth watered embarrassingly enough, turning your gaze to the ticking clock until Felix cleared his throat, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed his spit. He looked nervous which was unfamilliar, the boy always being persistant with his cocky mannerisms. Felix pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, your face heating up as your legs were spread wide open for him. There was nowhere you could hide your flushed face and Felix took this to his advantage.

“Huh? Shy, babygirl?” 

You gulped as you watched him stroke himself, the crimson colored tip disappearing only to reappear seconds later. Your eyes shut tightly as he moved the slick-stained panties to the side, anticipating to be filled to the brim from his impressive size. Mouth agape, Felix pushed into your wet hole, your hands gripping his broad shoulder in order to hinder a loud moan. 

“fuck y/n,,, you’re so tight, s-shit”

You couldn’t answer, still adjusting your velvety walls around him. As the pain subsided your core ached for friction, needing to feel him deep inside of you. Your arms wrapped around the boy, pulling him closer to your heated body making him smirk slyly before carefully pulling away, only his tip resting inside of you. Just as you were about to sigh due to emptiness he slammed inside of you, your entire body shaking from the impact. Panting, you begged for more, begging for him to go faster.

“F-felix! faster,,, please”

Your warm face was buried deep in his shoulder, his slightly cold hands gripping your hips tightly, starting to roll against your throbbing cunt earning small mewls from between your swollen lips. The counter creaked with each thrust that grew louder as his pace got faster, feeling your delicate walls clench around his veiny length, his silver earrings dangling from his lobes. Felix explored parts of your body even you hadn’t felt, his dick prodding you deep enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, biting down on his shirt. 

The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room, your weakening legs wrapping around his figure, trapping him inside of you but the blonde boy had no plans of stopping. Sweat beaded around his temples, his previously serious expressing turning into a grin as he adored your moans, words falling out in incomprehensible syllables. You were close and so was Felix. 

The pit of fire grew violent deep in your core, holding the young boy tighter to your body, clawing his clothed back. Every thrust had it’s impact, shaking you up and forcing shameless moans out from your throat that were being muffled by the fabric between your lips. The two of you moaned in unison, Felix’s deep mutters getting louder, his vicious thrusts becoming sloppier and uneven, desperate for his sweet release. You clenched around him involuntarily, trying to hold back from screaming, glad that your warm face was between his shoulder and neck so that he couldn’t see your fucked out expression. His name rolled off your tongue like a mantra, mind blank as your eyes were squeezed shut.

“Felix, i-im gonna c-cum! im-m cumming!”

The wall seperating you from your orgasm collapsed, leaving you with a powerful sensation washing over you. Your legs shook, struggling to keep your legs wrapped around him but soon enough you wouldn’t have to. Felix thrusted into you one final time, sending a shiver down your spine and overstimulating you before pulling out, his dick glistening with your erotic juices as he fucked his hand, hot spurts of cum leaking out. He growled, scrunching his forehead as he released on your shaking thighs, one last droplet of cum descending down his shaft and coating the shiny piercing that decorated his pretty cock. 

You panted, still processing what just happened, looking at Felix that unwrapped his hand from around his member, dick turning flaccid. You lifted yourself off the counter, only then realising how weak your legs were, not letting go of the surface you just fucked on. 

“Is this a one time thing or,,,” 

You start, not really knowing what to say afterwards. Felix cleared his throat, putting on his pants as you fixed your dark skirt, back against the boy.

“Let’s be friends”

You turned around, gazing at Felix as he looked down at the grimy floor.

“I’ll stop,,, bothering you, now we’re friends,,, with benefits but it’s a secret, understand?”

Every sentence this man spoke sounded serious with his deep voice but this was serious, for real. 

“Why should I? Why should I agree, Felix? So that you can play around with me even more, make me your little shy puppet? I’m not having it!!”

You yelled at the boy, his expression deadpan as you hit him in the abdomen, instantly regretting it as your knuckles hit his rock hard abs. Frustration clouded your mind, wanting to break every single piece of porcelain in the narrow kitchen. Instead you broke yourself apart. Crying in front of Felix like you’d done so many times before, dropping to the floor and feeling the cold material against your bare thigh. This feeling, so familiar. Felix gazing down on you like you we’re worth nothing more than the ground. 

Only this time he didn’t only stand and stare. 

His arms wrapped around your quivering figure, his embrace warmer than his face. 

“I’m sorry, y/n”

His voice shook as the silence overtook the both of you, the quiet ticking of the clock interupting. 

“Hm? Look at me, y/n”

Felix pulled away from you, sitting on the floor next to you, watching your head hang low as he gently put a hand on your jaw, lifting your gaze up to meet his. 

“I’m fucking stupid, I know. I shouldn’t have hurt you like that but,,, I didn’t know how- how to get closer to you.”

He swiped the rough pad of his thumb across your cheek, wiping your tears. 

“I will never hurt you ever again, y/n. We- we can work here and just,,, do stuff.”

You knew exactly what he meant by “stuff” but somehow you trusted him. You trusted him because you had no one else to trust. 

“But one rule” he said.

You tilted your head, wondering what his rule was.

“No falling in love”

You hummed, nodding as you wiped your tearstained cheeks with the sleeves of your shirt, cracking a smile at your own vulnerability. Felix stood up and you looked up at him, feeling small but not afraid. 

“So what do you say, y/n?”

He offered you his hand, you couldn’t stop looking into his secretive eyes that slowly turned mellow. 

You grabbed his hand, passing it as a yes to his question. 

But the both of you knew that the rule would be broken soon, like the brittle edge of a teacup. 

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Broken trust, pt.2

Part one

Summary: Too quickly does the Darkling find his rogue Sun Summoner, but his arrogance will cost him. 

Warnings: slight fluff, angst

==========================

Faith – Y/N’s floated away from her a very long time ago, like a leaf being pulled away on the tide, and into the sea to become lost and alone, likely drowned. But she had faith in Aleksander. She always trusted him, not doubting he’d protect her. That’s why this is much more painful than it had to be.

“Running doesn't matter, I'll hunt you down if I have to.” Kirigan spoke through gritted teeth, as if he knew she could hear him, feel the palpable anger and betrayal he struggled to contain.

And still she ran. She ran without looking back, cutting through the forest with her breath caught in her throat. She ran, flinching with branches leaving cuts across her face, but she couldn’t stop. If she stopped, he’d find her and if he found her, Y/N didn’t know if they’d both walk away unharmed.

Finding a cave, she ventured inside. She sat curled up against a wall, shivering in the darkness. She clutched the kefta she wore in Little palace, clinging to his already faded scent. Just hours ago, his arms were wrapped around her, his lips claimed hers. She was his, undoubtedly in love with the very man who turned out to be the enemy.

A sob escapes her, whimpering as her hand covers her mouth to assure her silence. Risking being found because she needs to cry is stupid. Aleksander would expect her to cry.

“Where have you been?” The Grisha asks, breathless as it seems.

His presence alone commands awe, respect and his charisma can make any human stop and forget what they’re doing so long as it pleases him. He is magnetic, electric, someone you can get lost in before knowing what’s happening.

“Answer me.” He insists, lower his head to her level. His eyes narrow at her quivering lips, just then realizing she’s shaking.

“Leave us!” He orders the Grisha who came running once the light reached them outside the tent.

He taps her shoulder, the air around them turning static with contact, “What is happening?” Her shaky voice sounds and his eyes soften.

“You truly don’t know?” Raising an eyebrow, the Grisha steadies Y/N before letting her go. “My name is general Kirigan and you”, he points at her, his forehead wrinkling momentarily, “are the Sun summoner.”

A breathless chuckle escapes her, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m a map-maker.”

“No”, Kirigan raises an eyebrow. He steps closer, his hands gripping her arms gently, “You are a Grisha.”

Swallowing thickly, her eyes flood with tears. One by one, they make tracks down her cheeks, stunning Kirigan.

“You need not worry”, wiping the tears off her left cheek with his thumb, Kirigan smiles softly, “I will protect you.”

Huffing, Y/N shakes her head. “I never should have trusted him.”

Suddenly, she felt her airways constrict. Gasping for air, she clutches her chest, unable to breathe or think clearly. Darkness etched into her vision, blurring it until there was nothing left. She felt her mind drift, the last she heard was a whisper she once adored.

“I’ll carry her back.” Aleksander states, his eyes never moving from her. He didn’t expect to find her, especially not as quickly as he did, but the ring she wore lead them straight to her location. Once again, she trusted the wrong person and once again, it brought them closer together.

Upon his return, he had laid her on his bed, hoping to speak to her somewhat peacefully this time around. If she could just feel the way his heart aches for her, maybe then she’d believe him he’d never do anything to bring her harm.

Groggy, Y/N groans. Her hand moves to her forehead, rubbing her temples.

“You’re safe”, Aleksander tells her, but the sound of his voice made her open her eyes wide, sitting up so quickly her vision blurred.

“St-stay away!” She pushed herself back, hitting the headboard.

“I won’t hurt you. I saved your life." Kirigan leans in, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"How? By taking my freedom, mind and identity?" She snaps at him, her nostrils flared with frustration and anger bubbling up to the surface.

"The chains are broken now.” Kirigan sighs, “You know the truth.” Wetting his lips, his eyebrows knit together, “Are you really free?"

Shaking her head, she narrows her eyes at him, "You are still my captive, no matter how beloved you once were."

Giggling, Y/N stumbles back and into the table. A few figurines fall to the ground, but it doesn’t seem to phase Aleksander who smirks as he rests his hands at each side of the table, essentially trapping her.

Raising an eyebrow, she looks up at him, batting her eyelashes. “Are you about to ravish me, oh sweet Darkling?”

Chuckling, he cranes his neck just enough for the tip of his nose to brush hers. Hearing her inhale sharply and hold her breath, Aleksander couldn’t help but peck her lips. It felt innocent enough, something that wouldn’t scare her but would satisfy his need to feel her closer to him.

“Don’t go looking for trouble, sunshine”, his lips twitch, amused how her hands have clutched his hips, pulling him closer to her.

“Maybe I like trouble”, she whispers, breathing heavily so much so he could count each and every breath passing the lips he wished her could kiss for an eternity, uninterrupted.

Biting her lower lip, her hand rests on his left cheek, caressing the scruffy beard with her thumb. “Come on, Darkling”, she teases, “What are you afraid of?”

“You”, he responds without a second thought. His response came so quickly, catching Y/N off guard. “I’m afraid of loving you”, he exhales through his nose, his clenching under the palm of her hand before he speaks again, “Afraid of losing you.”

“Please”, crosses his lips and Y/N’s heart skips a beat. Aleksander is a man of many virtues, but begging wasn’t one of them. He’s the man who demands and makes things happen. Such men don’t strike you as someone who plead often. And this was Aleksander pleading, asking her to do something irrational, to trust him, the only thing she couldn’t do.

“What could you possibly say to make this okay?” She swallows thickly, averting her gaze as if looking at him for too long could destroy her very essence.

"They called me the Darkling as an insult. You were the only one who used it as a term of endearment." Aleksander reaches for her hand, but she pulls away once again. “Let me put your mind at peace.”

Pressing her lips, she exhales through her nose, “You made me into a weapon. I'll never find peace.”

“I didn’t make you into anything”, he remarks, “You were born as my equal, to be my other half.”

Nodding to herself, she swipes her thumb under her left eye, “I sure feel like your equal now”, glancing at him she bites the soft flesh on the inside of her bottom lip, “You can still do the right thing. I believe there is a good person inside of you. The man I fell in love with must be somewhere underneath the darkness you're flaunting. Be him.”

His eyes narrow, clouded by his own sorrow, “It's too late to go back. You can't even look at me.” Standing, with his back turned on her, Aleksander allows tears to fill his eyes, “Do you even love me?”

“Of course I still love you, but trusting you is a different question.” With a heavy sigh parting her lips, she stands too. “You can’t force me to stay with you and expect unconditional love. That’s not how this works.”

Blinking fast, Aleksander refused to look at her. All she’d see is his weakness – his feelings for her have made him soft, too easily swayed by emotions and he mustn’t reveal it.

“You can’t catch sunshine, my dearest Darkling”, she wraps her arms around his waist. Resting her right cheek on his back, between his shoulder blades, she pulled him into her embrace, “You need to let me go and find my own way.”

“You’d be dead by nightfall.” He snaps, trying to push her off but she holds onto him even tighter, silently weeping.

How can she stay when every cell inside her body is screaming for her to leave? How can she leave when every single molecule she’s made up from is aching for just one more touch?

“If you love me, you’ll have to trust me”, her voice is shaky, unsteady as she feels. “Staying will make me resent you. I need some distance, time.”

“I can’t”, he shakes his head, wiping his tears away before she can see any.

“Then I need you to remember”, her hold on him lessens.

With a frown etched on his forehead, he turns to her with a lump at the back of his throat, “Remember what?” His words rip through her like glass shards do to skin, but he can barely tell if she’s shaking because he’s started to tremble himself.

A smile breaks on her lips, just as bright as the light she once emitted to contrast his. “Remember I love you.”

And once again, without a warning, Aleksander found himself on his knees.

He didn’t love her, he desired her most of all. He desired her gaze on him as desperately as the air he needs to breath. He desired her skin against his as the food he’d need to live. He desired her lips to speak his name in ecstasy more than the water as he thirsted for her light more than anything else in this world.

And in his desire for her he had lost himself entirely. He had lost his cold exterior, becoming putty in her hands. He had lost his ruthlessness he planned to aim her way, directing it to any and all who’d harm her. He had lost his resolve to stay away, so he’d give into her with all he is.

So with that desire and the loss of him, he hated her for all of it. He hated her with burning passion. He hated her so much it consumed him.

Or so he told himself so. For in the end, he did nothing to push her away.

He couldn’t.

Not now. Not ever.

Logic demanded him to stop her, but his entire logic went out the window the day he found her in his tent, stealing his grapes. He’s no longer a part of the living anymore either. She’s become his cornerstone and no matter how hard he tried to deny it, it didn’t change. It’s become factual.

He didn’t hate her, not even a little, not at all. Aleksander Morozova, Aleksander Kirigan, The Darkling, the unforgiving general, the Black Heretic, the Shadow King – all of him loved all of her, even as she had put a knife through his heart. The very heart that beat for her was now bleeding because of her. A betrayal, he realized, the very same as she had felt when she learned of his lies.

“We will see each other again”, she croaks, her tears crashing around him.

Gasping for air, he desperately fights the pain so he can keep his eyes open longer. This might not kill him, but it will slow him down. This time around, she’ll run and as she takes off the ring, he realizes it won’t be so easy to find her again.

She kisses his lips, so softly he’s unsure if it’s a well crafted dream.

“Moya lyubov'”, he manages to say as she stands and heads to the door. He can’t speak, but he’s screaming on the inside, hoping she’d look back at him. If she does, there was hope.

Reaching for the knob, Y/N sighs, glancing over her shoulder at her Darkling with unimaginable pain tearing her apart. But sometimes you have to break in order to create something more beautiful. She knew he’d hate her for it, but she walked out the door anyway.

PART 3