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#both appalling and hurtful to me
softwarmfur · 6 months
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i need a bitch who will get hard over my little whimpers and whines of pain that i make when my joints are acting up but will overcome her need to break me further and rub me till im better :3
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a-b-riddle · 2 months
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Part 10
Can't stop thinking about reader realizing she fucked up.
"What?" You asked, unsure if you heard him correctly. "I did stuff for Simon." He opened his mouth slightly before shutting it, almost as if he was afraid to argue with you. He was. "I did things for Simon." You repeated. "I did."
You took pause. Racking your brain for examples to throw in his face. You had always tried to be the best girlfriend. and look where it had gotten you. You were always the one to reach out, to plan dates. The only one to manage your time equally among all of them even if it meant stretching yourself then.
But the more you thought, the more you came up short.
"I definitely treated Simon the same." You defend.
Here lately you had been spending more time with the others than Simon. Every evening was the same without fail. He would call you no later than 9, asking if you were busy. Sometimes you were already out with the others, but in the instances you weren't Simon would ask to come over. An excuse of not being able to sleep.
When he first gave you that excuse, you expected him to be using it as just an excuse to come over and fuck you.
But he didn't.
Not that night. Or the next.
The third time he did fuck you. He was a man, not a saint after all. You weren't sure if it was because he was the last one you got around to being intimate with, but it just felt different. The others were great. Letting you turn your brain off and letting them take control.
Where the others took the reins, Simon guided you. It was more like dancing than fucking. Your bodies working in harmony with one another. He would listen intently to each little moan or staggered breath you took. Wouldn't take his eyes off of your face when he ate your cunt. Wanting to take in every reaction you would give him.
He had created a flow of how to fuck you. A way to ensure he pulled several orgasms from you before you practically passed out from exhaustion. You would try and switch things up with different positions and giving him head, but Simon was a simple man. Once he found a way that worked, he stuck with it. He let you indulge. Spicing things up, but he always made a home in between your thighs at some point.
It had been like that ever since. Over and over again like clock work, he would call. He wouldn't always fuck you. Mostly either one or both of you complaining about a hard day and insisting on just having the company of the other. However, it wasn't until Mere had made a comment on why she hadn't met Simon yet.
It was like finally noticing something on a commute you took everyday. Day in and day out you came across it without every really taking note. How oblivious you had been.
Simon had only came over at night. Although he would bring take out or cook dinner with you, he had never taken you out on a date. Not even so much as a cup of coffee-- tea in his case.
You pressed him about it one night.
You seem pretty busy during the day. Plus, that's when I catch up on sleep was his reasoning and you didn't press him.
Simon had always complained about not being able to sleep. You didn't mind the company. So whenever he called and you were free. That's just how the relationship had been between you two. You both seemed satisfied with the dynamic.
"It was just different with me and Si," you defended. "He didn't need any help from me or ask it." You wanted to say he hadn't been as needy as Johnny, Kyle or John, but kept that opinion to yourself.
"Or did he just not feel like he could ask you?" Kyle's question gave you a moment of pause. Your mouth falling open. Appalled at the suggestion.
"Don't try and turn this around on me." You narrow your eyes at Kyle and his audacity. You were the one who was hurt. You didn't like being the victim, but in this scenario you were. "If Simon had any issue he would have said something."
"Like you did with us?" He asked. His boldness growing. "And I'm not trying to turn this around on you, I'm just saying that there everyone had their issues in not communicating on what was really going on. I should have told you how I felt, they should have told you and you should have told us."
"Oh," you said, head tilting to the side and condescension lacing your tone. "So when was I supposed to do that? When John was snapping at me or Johnny had his tongue buried inside of me. God knows you weren't exactly answering my texts and Simon had been the only one I didn't have issues with."
"But you still came to him about us." Outed was the only word fitting enough to describe how you felt. You had tried to keep your relationships separate as well as the issues and frustrations that came along with it.
"He told you?" You asked, feeling embarrassed and, somewhat, fearful about what exactly Simon had said to them. The asshole was just so easy to talk to. For someone who was so reserved, you found it second nature to open up to him. "When?"
"Any chance he got." Kyle huffed. The confession shocked you. If anything, yes, maybe John would have been the one to tell the boys to fall in line if he knew they were falling short, but Simon? The man who couldn't ever be bothered to plan a date?
"I don't understand." You shook your head as if that would jumble the pieces of your thoughts well enough that they would somehow fit together; painting you a clearer picture. "Simon... he..." His words echoed in your mind. Even now they still haunted you. A ghost reminding you of your naivety. "He said some really shitty things."
"I know." Kyle's face fell and you could almost see the anger flicker in his eyes before it extinguished into something more solemn. "He knew he was the last thing holding you to us. Severing that tie would make it easier for you to lease."
"Losing you wasn't easy." You replied through clenched teeth. Tears prickling your eyes. "Is that what you think? That this has been easy for me?"
"I don't think it's been easy, but I know it's the truth." A small part of you knew he was right. And you hated him for it. "Simon was the only one putting in any effort on our end. He was the only reason we didn't lose you sooner." He took your hand in his. Rubbing small circles in your palm. Something he did to soothe. Funny how now the gesture was breaking your heart. "If it's any consolation, he didn't mean what he said."
You scoff, tears now falling as you pull your hand from him. "Just because he didn't mean it, doesn't mean it's not true." You cross your arms over your chest. No longer giving him the chance to try and reach out again.
"Do you think any of us actually felt that way about you?" Kyle asked, his tone a mixture between disbelief and sorrow. He knew Simon's words were meant to cut, but their actions had made his declaration deem true.
"You didn't exactly prove otherwise." The confirmation causes him to falter, not knowing what to say, how to comfort you. It was like somewhere along the way he had lost the knowledge on how to treat you, how to care for you. It was like he didn't know you, but still loved you all the same.
It was killing him.
After several uncomfortable moments of silence, he spoke. "I know John told you we were all on our own in terms of fixing this. But I want you to know that we all regret how we went about things. How we treated you was unacceptable and there is truly no excuse. I can only hope that you let us have the privilege in at least trying to make it up to you."
You let out a breath. Your chest aching as a sob threatens to bubble to the surface.
You swallow it down.
"So I take it then Johnny is taking the same route as Simon?" You couldn't blame him. You had put the final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Fucking and leaving him like that... Not to mention all the details Kyle gave you of the aftermath. No doubt Johnny would feel like being forgiven was pointless by now.
"Johnny is chomping at the fuckin' bit." He laughed. "If Simon and Price weren't keeping a leash on him right now he'd be here right now and I don't think we could get him out of here a second time."
"Well three out of four then." You sighed. "I just can't believe it got this far." Shaking your head, you leaned back against the cushions "I mean, I get that all of you had your own lives, families and stuff going on... But even then, I can't believe Simon found it so easy to say those things. Looking back, yeah, I wasn't girlfriend of the year, but I wasn't a bad girlfriend."
Silence.
"Kyle?" He bit his lips. He wanted to say something. "Kyle." You pressed. "Out with it."
"You don't need to bring it up."
"Fine." You said, but technically didn't promise anything.
"And it's not your fault for forgetting." Your patience was growing thin. Your emotional battery was low and even with a good nights rest you knew it would take a while before it recharged. "Fuck," Kyle rubbed his face, contemplating best how to tell you. "The night you called Simon..." he explained. "It was April 25th."
You waited, not completing grasping what he was trying to say.
April 25th...
What was so damn special about April 25th that made Simon so fucking angry? You didn't buy the whole 'letting you go thing', so it had to be something
Why that day?
April 25th: not an anniversary or a birthday. Not Easter or Christmas. Simon really didn't celebrate Christmas given what happened to Tommy, Beth and Joseph.
Joseph...
Fuck. Joseph.
Your throat felt fight.
What had you done?
He probably just got home from the cemetery when you called to cry about Johnny. Fuck.
Joseph's birthday.
Simon was a man that didn't do a lot of sentimental things. But every year, on Joseph's birthday he would visit his nephew's plot with a toy. You didn't know what he said or how long he stayed but he indulged you once. Telling you he just went, sat by with the toy next to the headstone for a bit before leaving.
Simon was reliving one of the happiest days of his life that was now tainted. And you complained about Johnny leaving after fucking you.
"Oh my God." You drew out shakily. Kyle could see the tears beginning to form. Horror manifesting in your eyes. "What the fuck?"
"You didn't know." He tried to soothe as if that were some sort of excuse.
"I forgot." Confessing it out loud felt like a spike going straight through your chest. "How the fuck did I forget?" Kyle didn't know what else to do. Fuck whatever awkwardness and boundaries you would set before fully accepting him back, he pulled you to his chest, allowing you to sob.
You weren't sure how long you had sat there. Kyle's arms enveloping you as you released it all. Eventually you did subside. His shirt marked with evidence of your tears and snot.
"No wonder he fucking hates me." You said it so softly, so broken, Kyle's heart broke for you.
"Simon doesn't hate you." His attempt of soothing you was admirable, but you knew it wasn't true. How could someone not hate another person after that? Forgetting the birthday of your brutally murdered nephew to call and bitch about not getting cuddled after sex. "If he did, he wouldn't have made sure you got home okay after your date. And the guy at the club-"
"He told you about that?" You shouldn't have been shocked. After all John knew.
"Only after he asked to standby in case bail was needed." He tried to joke. "The point is, there is coming back from this." Taking his thumbs, he brushed away the stray tears that hadn't made it to his shirt. "For all of us."
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shotoh · 1 year
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❝ I THINK I… ♡ ❞
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ when they realize they’re in love with you
feat. oliver aiku, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, kunigami rensuke, mikage reo
cw + tw. fluff, some angst, fem!reader, aged-up!characters, pro-player!characters, friends to lovers + established relationships, pet names, (!!!)attempted assault (in kunigami’s scenario, but he’s obviously not the assailant), alcohol usage (in oliver’s), maximum self-indulgence
notes. jdjsjsn this is kind of all over the place but i just wanted to word dump some cute scenarios and headcanons
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OLIVER AIKU
honestly, he’d get kind of scared. and not in an appalled way like, “psh, i’m oliver aiku! i can get any woman i want so why should i only care about this one person?!”
no, it’s because he’s fully aware of his disloyal and womanizing past that he’s afraid of this. he’s afraid he’ll end up hurting you—the one person he truly cares about—and he believes you don’t deserve that.
you deserve so much better than a douchebag like him.
he keeps that growing pit of adoration to himself and carries on with his life as always, but that can only do so much when he’s so clearly infatuated with you.
the most he lets himself do is tag along on your night out at clubs. however, he doesn’t drink a lick of alcohol. he needs to be sober to take care of you in case you get too wild out there to do so yourself. while he’s there though he talks to a few of the women flocking around, entertains them a bit, maybe as a feeble attempt to get you off his mind and forget about the jealousy rooted deep inside him when too many guys check you out and ask for a dance. but nowadays, he can never find it in himself to take any of these women home. that’s how deep his affections for you have run.
at one point during the night, you approach him with one too many drinks in your system, evident by your wobbly steps and the carefree grin plastered on your face.
“oli~! why don’ yer dance wit me?!” you slur, nearly toppling in front of him if not for oliver dashing forward to stop you from falling on your face.
“i think you’ve had one too many drinks, sweetheart,” he chides. after that he’s draping his large coat over your bare shoulders and leading you back to his car to get you home, while ignoring all the pouty women on his way out.
you object to leaving at first, droning about how the night is still young, but oliver is persistent in getting you home safe and sound. eventually, you doze off in the passenger seat while he’s driving. when he parks in front of your apartment complex, he carries you all the way up to your door, fishes out your keys from your clutch, and finally gets you into bed.
he lingers a little bit longer to make sure you’re all settled and if you need his help with anything, but once the buzz in your system has fizzled and your eyes are fully lidded, oliver assumes you’re out like a light. that is, until he’s sitting at your bedside and he hears the faintest murmur from your lips.
“love you… oliver…” is what comes out in a lovely daze and he almost wants to deny he heard it for both yours and his sake, but all he can do is muster a smile, ghosting a hand along your cheek, and say while you’re blissfully unaware,
“love you too, sweetheart.”
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ITOSHI RIN
lowkey annoyed over this because instead of soccer plaguing his mind 24/7, his thoughts are now overrun by you! so he ignores the feeling, thinking it will magically go away or something. but newsflash to rin: it’s not as simple as it looks, and he ends up learning that lesson the hard way.
he spends the next week evading you—declining invites to hang out, sending half-hearted text messages, and ingraining himself in his soccer practices. unfortunately for him, his performance actually gets worse because now all those feelings he’s been bottling up inside his fragile heart are about to burst.
even shidou has been scoring more than him and rin just can’t live that down, especially when the former asks if the reason he’s been doing so poorly is because he and his “little girlfriend” broke up. which isn’t even the case since you’ve both never crossed that bridge.
poor boy goes home one day conflicted over all of this, slouched on the edge of his bed with his hands ruffled in his hair. soon he gets a text from you, which he shouldn’t be surprised by, given how he’s been treating you lately.
but then you’re asking him if he’s okay and rin is utterly taken aback because he’s been acting like such an asshole, yet you’re the one that’s still worried about his well-being.
right then and there rin has a long moment of contemplation, breathing a sigh into his hand which clasps over his mouth. he replies back with a quick apology text before telling you to meet him after his practice tomorrow. the moment he hits send, he tosses his phone on the bed, not willing to wait for that hovering gray bubble to appear on the message window.
when tomorrow arrives and practice is over, his steps are dragging along the pavement outside the training facility. he’s honestly doubting if you’ll even show up, but those qualms are immediately dashed when he sees your figure a few distances away. you’re standing there with apprehension written on your features, which morph into worry as soon as you cross eyes with him.
rin can’t even get a word in or form a coherent thought because the moment you run up to him, you’re blabbering about how he didn’t have to apologize because he was probably working so hard on soccer, chasing his dreams and the like. then, you bring up how maybe you should continue distancing yourself in order to help him focus, and god, that flicks a switch in rin’s head because that is far from what he wants.
all of a sudden, he’s silencing you as he pulls you into his chest. you find yourself buried in his jersey, confused but not drifting away, and even return the embrace when you sense him shake against you.
“fuck, no. i don’t want that all…” his voice sounds like he’s about to break as he mutters those words into your hair. his arms tighten around your shoulders as if you’ll leave him at any moment. you assure him you won’t as you nuzzle closer into his chest.
“then i’m not going anywhere, rin.”
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NAGI SEISHIRO
the thought comes upon him when he’s alone in his apartment. it’s not immediate though.
the sunlight seeping through the curtains inevitably wakes him up one very late morning. and by very late, i mean this dozy boy definitely slept in that day, if he couldn’t already tell from his digital clock reading 11am.
even though nagi is always keen on getting plenty of shut-eye, he’s constantly kept on his toes when it comes to having a productive sleep schedule. partially due to soccer practices, but also because you sometimes visit him in the mornings. so normally, he’s woken by the ruckus you’re making while cooking him breakfast in the kitchen.
but this morning it’s… silent. which in hindsight, nagi should be happy about, right? he got to sleep in, after all, and he doesn’t have practice today. what more could he want?
once he shakes off the last remnants of sleep from his body, he finally musters the strength to get out of bed and maybe start his day with something to eat. which this morning is… leftovers. specifically the leftovers from the last time you made him food—a couple days ago.
regardless, he warms them up and sits down with a plate on the table. says his appreciations for the meal and digs in. when the first bite enters his mouth, it tastes the same as when he initially had it, but there’s an empty feeling in the bottom of his stomach he can’t quite pinpoint. he scarfs down a few more spoonfuls until he grows tired of eating, resting his head on the table.
his tummy is full, yet that emptiness persists—it’s been on the forefront of his mind for several days now and it’s starting to annoy him. he can’t determine why that is and what makes those days any different from before succumbing to that void in his heart.
after all, nothings changed.
just that… you went on an overseas trip. without him.
well, it’s not like he was ever going to be invited since you’re supposed to be vacationing with your girlfriends.
ah, wait. maybe he’s just lonely.
no, that can’t be it. he hung out with reo and some of the other blue lock boys the day after you left. even a slacker like him still makes time to see his friends. so what is he missing here?
the question lingers in nagi’s noggin as he drags his fork along the remaining food stuck on his plate. at some point, his phone’s ringing breaks him from his stupor, and he’s surprised to glance over and see your caller id on the screen.
he’s not sure what comes over him, but nagi swears he’s never hit the accept button so fast in his life. immediately, he brings the phone next to his ear, and is the first one on the line to utter “hello?”
“sei, you’re awake! i’m glad i got the time zones right!” you exclaim in your cheery tone that nagi has always been accustomed to hearing in the morning. “y’see i’ve stumbled on a gift shop the other day and found a few souvenirs i’d think you’d like!”
you ramble on and on about your adventures around the country you’re visiting and nagi finds himself absorbing your voice, hanging on every word, and even nodding next to the phone like you’re right here in front of him.
suddenly, his heart feels so full and everything clicks into place again. it’s like his day never actually started until you appeared with all your mirth and energy. even on opposite sides of the earth, you’re still the sun to his moon.
“angel,” he murmurs as you’re in the middle of talking, and you’re silent after acknowledging his call, waiting on his words.
“come home soon. i miss you.”
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ISAGI YOICHI
this boy is a mess! he’s the kind of guy who as soon as those feelings start blooming in his chest, he gets super flustered around you all the time. and it’s obvious too.
before, he was super nonchalant with you. treated you like a friend, flirted without even knowing because he’s just that comfortable around you, but when any of his friends or family mention how the two seem closer than you realize, he just freezes and his mind goes blank. erupts in an embarrassing fit of sputtering and denial, face searing red down to the nape of his neck. it’s so cute.
however, he’s not fooling anybody! anyone can tell by the windblown expression on his face—starstruck eyes admiring you as a warm grin overtakes his features—that he’s absolutely smitten by you. he just needs to admit it already.
well, his next outing with you (in which he swears wasn’t actually a date, but c’mon isagi), finally gets him to come to terms with his emotions as he reminisces spending the whole day just laughing his heart out and being so full of that warmth and happiness you give him that makes him feel completely weightless. almost like he can do anything. afterward, when he gets home, he rushes upstairs and literally flails in his bed with the most insane blush on his cheeks. like wow, he’s in love with you.
isagi yoichi is in love with you.
but love to isagi is like a double-edged sword, especially to someone who just escaped that blue lock hellhole and now has to devote even more of his life to his soccer career.
with that carefree sensation comes a new box of trepidations that he’s afraid to open.
what if there comes a time when he would have to choose between you or soccer? he’s hoping that won’t ever be the case. he’d hate to struggle juggling the two and end up breaking your heart.
god, never in a million years does he want that.
the best he can do is take steps to introduce this side of his life to you. he does so in extravagant fashion, by inviting you to come watch him play during his championship game.
to say you were a little startled by his offer was an understatement, but you take him up on it, and promise you’ll be there, especially since isagi went out of his way to get you the best seats in the stadium.
on the day of his match, he’s more nervous about performing well in front of you rather than winning. winning is instinct for him so he has no doubts he’ll claim victory and take home the championship cup. he’s just eager to show you a new isagi you’ve never seen before, rather than the tongue-tied, flustered puppy isagi that’s been vying for your attention lately.
coming onto the field, his eyes are too busy swerving in the direction of where you’re seated than focus on his opponents. the moment he distinguishes your figure at the very front of the stands—draped in a jersey that reads his name—countless butterflies begin fluttering in his stomach. it’s a feeling that he can never truly convey into words.
all he does is let an elated grin spread wide on his lips, cheeks swathed in such a dainty shade of rose that has his teammates swatting the back of his head to remind him he has a very important game to win.
and oh does isagi win. during the match he scores four goals in quick succession, absolutely annihilating the other team to the point where it’s downright embarrassing for the opposing side. the commentators are completely baffled, questioning what has the player so stoked. little do they realize that each of those goals were all made in your name and isagi can’t wait to let you know that later with his championship cup in hand.
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ITOSHI SAE
sae is pretty accepting of this revelation. nothing really fazes him after all, and he recognizes that it was only a matter of time before he came to terms with the idea that he might be head over heels for you.
in fact, he takes those feelings in stride.
as if sae wasn’t already a gentleman before this, his mannerisms around you only intensify. he’s constantly holding the door open for you, pulling out your chair, giving you his jacket whenever you’re cold, and so on. you never have to lift a finger when you’re with him. it’s to the point where he’s even sweeping stray hairs off your face and tucking them behind your ear before you’re given a chance to realize they were bothering you in the first place. not a day goes by where he doesn’t place you on a pedestal and worship you in the best ways he knows how.
he’s also gotten very touchy and a tiny bit possessive (okay maybe more than a tiny bit). sae isn’t the type to initiate pda regularly, but whenever he feels threatened in any way—which is very rare but not impossible—he always has a hand on you. whether it’s on your lower back as he ushers you closer to him, or intertwining your fingers together before sending a cold, piercing glare over his shoulder at the offending party, he always makes his intentions with you known even if you yourself are oblivious of them.
it’s not like he’s controlling or obsessive either. he simply wants to make you feel special. to be frank, he’s setting such a high standard that no other man can compare to him.
on more than one occasion, he’s had to travel overseas for international business, and the first time he left the country for an extended period without you, he grew incredibly homesick. not because he particularly misses the normalcy of his life back in japan, but because it always feels a little empty, and frankly, boring without you by his side. he’s grown to appreciate the moments he shares with you, from the time he wakes up beside you to when he falls asleep while you’re in his arms.
after that, whenever he has to fly out of the country, he insists you tag along with him, and goes out of his way to pay for all your expenses—plane ticket, lodgings, everything. most of the time, you try turning down his offer, stating you don’t want to be a hindrance while he’s working. yet sae counters by saying it’ll be more trouble for him if you weren’t there with him than not, and who are you to object when he’s staring at you with such unwavering ocean eyes, looking as if you’re the whole world to him.
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KUNIGAMI RENSUKE
deep down, kunigami has always held you closely in his heart, regardless if he’s aware of the love he possesses behind it.
it’s natural for him to want to protect the people he cherishes, but with you, you activate something so visceral inside him. it scares him sometimes, how you can make his whole body rattle, blood pumping erratically to the point where all he can hear is the ringing in his ears and his heart thumping wildly out of his chest.
that’s especially the case when he receives a late night call from you while he’s settling himself at his apartment. he’s slightly surprised by the random call. you don’t normally reach out for him at this time since you’re either going to sleep or hanging out with friends in the dormant hours of the night.
accepting the call, he brings the phone to his ear.
“hello? y/n?”
“r-ren? u-um, can you please stay on the phone with me..?” you whisper in the receiver, tone quivering to a frightening degree. he hears the anxiety laced in your voice and suddenly sirens go off in his head.
“where are you?” he questions sternly as he instantly stands from his seat, reaching for his car keys.
“i just left a club and was going to walk to the station, but… s-someone’s–”
kunigami doesn’t need to hear anymore to understand the full picture that makes his bones quake for your safety as he dashes out the door.
“i’m coming to get you, so send me your location. until then, stay in an open area and don’t stop talking to me, okay?”
you affirm quietly before moving your phone from your ear to pin your location to him with trembling fingers. as you’re doing so, kunigami’s already started the ignition to his car, revving on the roads with little care of the law. he’s never driven this fast in his life, swearing he’s a defensive driver, but that means nothing to him when your safety is on the line right now.
if he grips his steering wheel any harder, it might just break off from his bare strength alone. a single glance at the map on his dash tells him he’s less than a minute away from your position. in the last stretch, he can finally spot your frightened silhouette under the dimly lit lamps.
as soon as you recognize the model of his vehicle, relief washes over your tense shoulders. you take it as your chance to escape your precarious situation, but the shady man a few meters away decides to attempt a last minute assault, dashing in your direction.
when the fiery-haired athlete sees this, his restraint all but snaps. he gets out of his car without even slamming his door shut and spontaneously reaches for you, pulling you behind his intimidating, brawny frame before punching the man square in the jaw. the assailant tumbles onto the hard ground, completely knocked out.
kunigami’s attention immediately turns to you, putting all his efforts into your well-being as he yanks you in his protective embrace. the adrenaline from both your bodies wears off and the striker can sense you bursting into tears against his chest.
“ren, i’m so sorry, i was out with friends and i thought it would okay for me to stay out later even though they wanted to leave, and-and–” your words collide with your jumbled thoughts, but the last thing kunigami wants is for you to apologize for this scumbag’s actions.
“shh, princess. it’s not your fault,” he whispers next to your ear, “fuck! if anything happened to you… i… i…” his voice breaks apart. his hold on you tightens just imagining if he was even a second late coming to your side. for now, he’s thankful to have you back safe and sound, tucking you closer to his heart.
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MIKAGE REO
when reo considers that what he was feeling might no longer be a crush, but rather actual love for you, he’s a bit doubtful. mostly because he’s approached countless girls with romantic intentions in mind, however, to his disappointment, he’ll discover that they’re mainly interested in his status instead of him as a person. his good looks and charisma are just a plus for them. therefore he’s very hesitant to fully act on these emotions, afraid to have his heart broken again.
however, he slowly starts accepting the notion that he might be wrong about you. it shows in the way you’re always asking about his life outside of him being an heir to a billion-dollar corporation. he’s stunned by how your features can glow with such intrigue whenever he speaks about his time in blue lock, leading to his journey to becoming a star player in the land of professional football. most girls he entertained would fake interest in this before quickly changing the subject.
eventually, they’ll throw themselves on him to garner his favor and try gaining access to his parents’ wealth. however, you seek greater value in sharing the same experiences with him. you take him out to watch movies, hangout at the most unique cafes, and have the time of your lives at amusement parks.
reo’s used to his dates borderline demanding him to drive them out for extensive shopping sprees or book them dinners to the most high-end restaurants in the city. it becomes exhausting when all his partner sees in him is a personal wallet for them to call on whenever they’re eyeing the newest luxury trends displayed on shop windows.
so to have a person like you by his side, who doesn’t determine his value on such materialistic facets is… refreshing… but also just as frightening because he’s afraid of losing such a precious person like you.
though it may be counterintuitive, reo means to return your kindness by spoiling you, thinking you’re someone who genuinely deserves to be dolled up and treated like royalty.
the first time reo swipes his card on a hefty purchase for you, you’re a little bit overwhelmed, going on to say he didn’t have to do all this. but the man is difficult to argue around, what with his suave words and charismatic demeanor that makes it hard for you to say no to the jewels and dresses he wants to adorn on your body.
then as if he couldn’t have pampered you anymore, he also brings up the offer for you move into his penthouse so you don’t have to worry about rent while making ends meet. of course, you bring up the case that you don’t want to rely on him for money—that you simply enjoy being with him—but reo counters with similar reasoning.
“c’mon doll, just let me do this for you,” he insists. “you’ve done so much for me already, and i just want to make sure you know how special you are to me.”
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copyright 2023 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.
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indiaalphawhiskey · 3 months
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The more I rewatch the season, the further I fall for Colin and realize just how much he loves Pen. Because even in his moments of severity and sternness, there is so much softness there.
“I want very much to do those things.”
At first, I was so appalled by the stubbornness in this scene. Like dude, just give in. But what, at first, seemed like such a quiet, throwaway line, now teems with so much give, so much generosity.
He’s saying: “Being distant from you is not easy for me. I am not withholding my affections on purpose; I am not doing this out of spite or to hurt you, nor because I do not desire you anymore.”
It’s such a simple line and yet it answers so many of Pen’s questions. It’s honest, but also loving, and more than that, gives her assurance that their marriage will warm again, somehow.
“And what is it that restrains you?” // “I do not know.”
Again, it just seems willfully stubborn, but really, it’s extremely humble and vulnerable of him to admit. In this moment, he doesn’t understand either — doesn’t understand his anger or jealousy or feeling of helplessness — but he admits it, instead of pretending his distance boils down solely to her secret. In a way, for the first time, he’s taking responsibility for his hurts and emotions instead of foisting it onto Whistledown. And, for a man who is already grappling with his worth and trying so hard to find his footing with a strong and truly independent wife, how lovely and brave of him to confess to her especially, that he is lost. That he maybe, a little bit, does need her help to figure this out,
He also does it multiple times: “Then what good am I to you?” // “Then how am I meant to help you?”
He’s asking her for what he needs from her, and she’s answering, because they both love each other and want this marriage. He’s just a human who needs a little bit of time to really hear it.
Ugh, I love them.
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blushlambs · 3 months
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need virgin stanford art with a virgin reader, both so inexperienced and curious, eager to explore each other’s bodies. art’s thoughts were relatively pure, driven by a genuine desire to make love to her, to hold her close and take it slow. after all, he doesn’t want to hurt her. patrick’s tainted his brain with his sick fetish for fucking virgins, said there was something satisfying about corrupting them, making them bleed? the thought had horrified art then, and it horrifies him now.
it’s too bad she is just so desperately begging to be fucked. her little brain decayed from a porn addiction begun too young, just so eager to try everything she’s been programmed to crave. her brain goes straight to his cock bruising the back of her throat, mascara staining her cheeks while he grips the back of her ponytail. she thinks art’s sudden interest in her must mean he wants her sweet face in his ass, massaging his balls with saliva and jerking him raw like a little degenerate.
it’s abundantly clear that they have different motives when art finally decides he’s ready to lose his virginity.
she’s straddling his lap, grinding on his semi. he’s peppering chaste kisses along her shoulders, his knuckles white from gripping the bedsheets. “art, please just fucking touch me.” she whines. he gasps slightly when she rips his hand from the bed and places it around her throat. “uh.. would that not hurt you?” he asks naively. “don’t fuckin’ care.. just do it.”
art can’t fathom why you’d want that. was that something girls were into? having lived with his grandma, he’d never been exposed to proper sex ed, let alone porn. he hesitantly tightens his grip anyways.
“need it so bad, art. i need you to give it to me. please baby please. i’ll take it all. promise.” she chokes out, her voice desperate. she whimpers in his ear, her hands frantically fumbling with his belt, swiftly undoing it. the intensity of her need catches him off guard. he’s almost appalled. “are you actually a virgin?” he questions her, voice laced with doubt. “of course i’m a fucking virgin, why?” she snaps back, a glimpse of defiance in her eyes.
“then how do you know what you’re doing?” she pauses, locking eyes with him, a mix of frustration and impatience flashing across her face. “we’re having sex art, it’s not exactly rocket science.” his heart sank, he shouldn’t have asked. what a fucking loser.
(part 2) (part 3)
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eraenaa · 1 month
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Twin Flame
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Aemond Targaryen x Twin Reader
Synopsis: Anywhere that you are, that I’d be. Following Aemond to the Riverlands against your better judgment and sensibilities because you knew all too well you could never be apart from your twin.
Warnings: ¿Angst?, Targcest, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read
Word Count: 2,333
A/N: (1) Based on a request where they wanted "Aemond has a twin sister, they both love each other, more than sibilings should, but ofc they could never do something about it.When Aemond takes Harrenhall he sees the opportunity, and gets his sister to go with him. At the end making Harrenhall their piece of paradise, where they can love each other freely without the expectations of their family or the court." (2) Find the song references ;)
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“Come with me, sister, come with me to Harrenhall.” You feel your stomach pit at the vulnerability in your twin’s voice. A vulnerability that you had not seen nor heard for so long— a vulnerability that he had hidden away, but it would always shine through for you. “Aemond,” You sighed, resisting the urge to turn to him. Your knees already felt weak, and to look upon your twin’s face would surely make you rethink everything that needs to be done. Just a look upon Aemond’s pleading face would make you forget about all the sensibilities that your brother seemed to ignore. “Please… I need you, ñuha perzys.” (My fire)
“And they need me, Aemond. You know this.” You choked. “With you gone and Aegon burnt and Ser Criston away… who will be with Helaena and Mother? Sister has already refused her dragon even for her own sake— someone must protect them, Aemond. If not you, then me.” You looked upon your twin’s eye and saw unshed tears. “But you are meant to be with me— to be by my side! From the womb to our tomb, we are meant to be with each other! Do you dare to separate us? You? My own twin would be the one to tear us apart?” You shook your head. “Aemond… the circumstances have changed! You know what we must do! I—I cannot leave our mother and sister defenseless! I must stay here, and you must go to Harrenhall… without me.” Aemond took hold of your arm, his grasp harsh. Unwilling to let you go. “I will die in Harrenhall without you,” 
“Oh, Aemond,” You sighed, stepping forward and cupping his cheek, feeling as a tear fell. “If you die, I will shortly follow after. You know I cannot live without my twin flame.” You whispered. “We must do our duties, brother… were you not the one who taught and had embedded that in my head? We must play our roles here and deny ourselves comfort and… and our desires.” Aemond scoffed. “Deny ourselves?” He spat. “We have been denying ourselves the moment we were born! You and I, and they know we belong together, but what have they done? They had plotted to separate us the moment we came to this world! Forcing us to betrothals that align with our duties and pay no mind to what we want!” You swallowed thickly, caressing his cheek to calm the fire in his veins. 
“Can you not see, sister? If we are in Harrenhall, we will be free. We shall command the Riverlands together— just you and I and our dragons. We will reign fire upon the usurpers and their bannermen; we shall take what is rightfully ours, and no one could hinder us anymore.” 
“Oh, my love… your mind is muddled— deluded.” You say softly, but Aemond furiously shakes his head. “Do you not want to be with me?” He asked, voice holding a magnitude of hurt that broke the heart that you shared with him. “I do. But you know I can’t. Not when Mother and Hela—“ 
“Enough with your excuses! They had made their decisions— they have no intentions of winning this war— let alone fighting it! Mother still holds love for our enemy, and our enemy still holds love for her. No one from their side would dare harm Helaena, and you know this!” You looked at him, appalled by his words. “You would leave them defenseless?” You say in disgust. “I would leave them to be with you! If you would make me choose between them and you— you already know the answer, so be merciful, sister, and not make me utter it.” You did not know whether to focus on the dread in your heart or the overflowing love for Aemond. “Gods, brother… this is no use. You know what we must do, and I beg you, my love, to accept our fates. We must go our separate ways. I’m sorry.” You almost sobbed, urging him to let go of his hold of you. You placed a tender kiss upon the side of his lips and felt another tear roll from his eye. “I love you, Aemond… but I’m sorry, I cannot come with you.”
Aemond left for the Riverlands before first light, and you felt his departure by the throbbing pit in your heart; half of you had left. “You must know that this is for the better, my sweet,” Your mother whispered, staring into your eyes, which resembled your twin’s. Though she bore the both of you on the same day, she often had difficulty accepting that the two of you were twins. Because where Aemond was brutal, you were gentle. Where Aemond was rash, you were rational. What the other lacked, the other had— never complete, but whole when together.
“I know. I—I think I know… but mother, I feel like I had betrayed him,” You said. You knew perfectly well both of your roles and what must be done to save your family and faction, but you could not help but feel the lack pitting in you within just a few hours of your beloved twin’s departure. Alicent sighed and cupped your cheek as she saw the tears welling in your eyes. “What you did is for the sake of me and your sister, and we are forever grateful for you, my love. You had made your choice, and Ameond his.” You nodded, unable to look your mother in the eye because as much as you tried to sell to Aemond that the reason for your reluctance to come with him was your mother and sister— you had used that as a ploy to hinder him from leaving and going to the Riverlands because you never thought your twin flame could leave you. 
You knew Harrenhall had to be felled in order to have an advantage in the war, but when the castle fell, you had been warned by Helaena that Aemond would soon follow. You could not let that be. And you foolishly thought that if you hindered him from going to Harrenhall by denying yourself to follow him, you could perhaps redo the prophecy. 
“She must go to him.” Helaena suddenly spoke, breaking the silence between you and your mother. Your gaze flew to your sister, who looked distantly out of the window. “No. Sister, I stayed here for you and Mother.” You say, feeling your mother hold onto your hands. Helaena turned to you with a knowing yet far-off look in her eyes. “You stayed here for him. But he needs you in Harrenhall.” Your mother shook her head, “Your sister will stay here with us. And in time, when need be… we shall leave this all behind— live… live a quiet life. Somewhere away from all this bloodshed.” 
“Leave?” You questioned, brows deeply furrowed. “Leave for where? This is our home, mother.” You added, Alicent licking her lips and gaze traveling the room. “I did not stay here with you and abandon my twin so that we could leave our home!” You practically yelled as you realized the plan that your mother had concocted. “Kingslanding is ours thanks to Aemond. Do you mean to abandon it? Leave it for what? The woods? Essos?” You asked incredulously. “We will leave kingslanding for somewhere safe! Away from fire and revolt! Away from dra—“ You abruptly stood and removed your mother’s hold. “But we are dragons!” You screamed. Alicent shook her head, the influence of Aemond shining through you during his absence. 
“There is nothing more to be said,” Helaena spoke again, sensing an argument was to break. “We will leave, and so shall you.” You licked your lips and shook your head as you walked towards your sister. “Helaena,” You sighed. “Go to Aemond, sister. He needs you more than we do. You are his twin… his opposing force— only you could calm his rage.” You turned to your mother, who looked upon you and your sister, defeated and picking at her fingertips. She gave a hesitant nod, her plan failing as she could never truly take you away from Aemond, no matter what plan she had concocted ever since both of your childhoods. You were wholly Aemond’s, and no one could deny you from him— not even yourself. 
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You arrived in Harrenhall in the dead of night. No one questioned your arrival as they had let you and your dragon pass freely, making you question if your twin had warned them; Aemond was already sensing that you would come for him. 
You walked through the eerie halls of the ruined castle as you relied on your intuition as to where your beloved was. You reached a door with the faint light of the hearth shining through the cracks. You carefully pushed upon the warped wooden door and immediately saw your twin lying on the right side of the bed, a pillow placed on the left where he draped his arm upon— the same position he would have whenever you two would sneak upon each other’s chambers and sleep in each other’s comfort. 
You threaded lightly as you stood by Aemond’s side, gently running your hand through his silky hair. Immediately, he woke and turned to you, his lilac eye wide. You saw confusion, apprehension, and shock in his lilac eye. “It’s just me,” You say softly and soothingly, cupping his cheek and tracing his scar with your familiar touch. “You… you came,” He said in disbelief. “Of course. I came for you,” 
You held your breath as Aemond reached up and kissed your lips. You two had only done such acts a few times before, but you had both placed great restraints upon yourselves to never repeat actions again or let your desires stray further. “I knew you would come back to me.” He whispered against your lips, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. “I could never truly leave you alone, now can I? You are half of me, Aemond… I cannot live without the half of my soul.” As the words left your lips, Aemond moved to kiss you once more, moving you to straddle him on the bed. 
“I have only ever wanted you, my fire… only you.” He breathed heavily. Letting his lips stray to your neck, brushing away your hair that you had inherited from your mother. Hair that reminded him of the fire that burned brightly in your veins. “You are all that I need. With you here, I could die happily.” You abruptly parted. “Do not say such things, Aemond. If you die, I’ll shortly follow, and there will be fury that you must pay.” You say harshly, glaring at your twin, who only sadistically grinned at your words. You could not even think of such things, for it only left devastation— if your twin was taken from you, it would only leave you bereft and reeling as he would be the loss of your life. “And I shall do the same. I will follow you into the dark, my fire.” 
Your lips found home upon his again, your hips moving upon his, feeling his need greatly protruding upon your heat. “Aemond,” You mewled, feeling him leave marks upon your neck. “Do you need me as much as I need you?” He hummed. “Answer, sweet sis, will you finally relent and open your eyes to see that you are mine? Or will we still have to deny ourselves?” He questioned. “I’m yours, my love. You have known it ever since— no matter what I say— no matter what has been done, I was and will always be yours.” You breathed heavily. 
You gasped as you felt his hand slither in between the both of you to cup your cunt. Aemond groaned as he felt your wetness seeping through your small clothes. “Aemond, please, please, please— do not make me beg. I want you badly.” You pleaded, Aemond completely amused by your desperation but merciful enough not to let you plead for him further. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him slip a finger into your cunt as his thumb drew lazy circles upon your pulsating pearl. 
You found his lips again, your tongues battling for dominance as your cunt was completly in his control. “More, Aemond, I need more,” You cried, frustrated as you could not find the release you sought desperately for. “Of course you do,” Aemond taunted but still obliged. You lifted your hips as his cock was released from the confines of his night trousers. “Gods,” You cried as you sank upon his length, your nails digging onto his shoulders as his mouth was enclosed upon your tit that he pulled out from your clothing. “You kept yourself pure for me— you truly knew to whom you belong, do you not, sister?” Aemond gritted, already consumed by the pleasure that you and he had denied yourselves. When you sank completely onto his length and when the tip of his cock was perfectly hitting the spot in your cunt, you finally felt complete.
Aemond kissed the tears of pain and pleasure away as your hips moved slowly and cautiously, as each movement only provided pain due to his well-endowed length. “You were made for me,” Aemond groaned as your tight cunt clenched around him further. “Only you could make me feel as such, and only I can make you feel like this.” He growled against your skin. 
When you finally felt conviction, you moved your hips fervently against Aemond’s. The sound of your wet cunt, slapping skin, and your the pleasured moans filled the room. Words of love and desire that had not been uttered but were always known spewed from both of your lips and when you felt your release coming, you locked your lips with Aemond’s and let yourself come undone in the arms of the man that had been yours the moment you two were born. 
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Tag List: peachysunrize gelacat0413 maidmerrymint aemondwhoresworld fireydragonblood anukulee spacexdrago amanda08319 seamaiden aylasrants blackswxnn dracaryxzs trashpackbitch tomie-it-girl mamawiggers1980 chaosluvr deine-schatz
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darkbluekies · 4 months
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What is your yandere's reaction if their darling suddenly asks, "You'd rather have me dead than let me go, right?"
Warnings: mentions of isolation, captivity, death, threats,
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Silas:
He would be appalled to hear that. That's not at all what he's doing ― or trying to convey. All he wants is you to be with him, and to not do stupid things that could cause pain for the both of you. He would try to take you in his arms, try to cach your attention.
"No, what? What are you saying? Never in a million years would I want you dead! But I can't let you go, I can't be without you. You're mine and you're stuck with me. That's that. No one is leaving and no one is dying. Say such nonsense again and I will show you that being dead is far worse than being stuck with me."
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Dr Kry:
He stares at you, absolutely shocked to hear you say that. How could you ever think that he wants you harm? He doesn't want to hurt you ... it is just necessary, But he doesn't expect you to understand that. Your poor, pure brain is foggy with medicine, you're not in your best state. Dr Kry would try to comfort you to the best of his ability, knowing that there is no reason to try to hide it anymore.
"Darling, you are my most beloved patient ... do you think I want to hurt you? I am doing this to keep you safe. If I didn't, who knows what would happen to you? You could run around and hurt yourself. The world is menacing and would destroy you. You are so perfect, so pure. I don't want you dead. Never."
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King Edmund:
He would give you a long look, hesitating on what to say. He doesn't want you to leave him, wouldn't be able to live without you. But would he rather have you dead? Yes, he would rather have you dead than sharing you with anyone. You are for his eyes only, created for him by a higher power that saw what he needed.
"You're damn right in that. You think anyone else is worthy of having you? I don't share anything else in my life, do I? No, exactly. But you don't have to worry about dying, my jewel. It's not like I'm going to let you leave?"
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Jerry:
Jerry would weigh the outcomes. You dead ... or you gone? The only light in her life being put out without a chance to ever return ... or alive? It's a clear question ... and a clear answer, but she won't let you know that.
"Have you gone mad? I'm not even going to answer such a stupid fucking question. I'll teach you what happens when asking such stupid ass questions."
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Hedwig:
The question would break her. She doesn't want to keep you locked in her room and it certainly doesn't help her case that you like to sit in the window and gaze longingly out towards the garden. She wants things to go back to how they used to be. But to do that, she would have to let you go. Would she rather have you dead? No, of course not. Not in a million years. She wouldn't be able to ansswer the question, only replay it in her head until she couldn't take it anymore. She would press her hands to her ears and crouch down, shaking her head.
"Stop, stop, stop, stop .... please, stop. Stop saying that! I don't want that! None of it! Stop! Oh, my God, stop, please ..."
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writtenbymoonflower · 8 months
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hi!!! could i pls request some casual dominance polymarauders 🙈
Thanks for requesting, hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders, kinda modern!au
cw: kinda d/s dynamics, boys order reader around a bit. if it's not your cup of tea feel free to skip!
810 words
You were attacked with affection the minute you had stepped foot in the house, but you weren’t complaining. It was like James had appeared from thin air to help you shuck your coat off and hang it up for you. 
“Christ, babe. It didn’t know how freezing it was out there. You’ve got like, bits of ice on you.” He fussed, scrutinizing your shaking body and wind-pinched face. 
“It wasn’t that bad, the walk was pretty.” You thought that would be reassuring, but James just looked more aghast. 
“You walked the whole way here?”
“I mean, yeah. I didn’t have money for the bus.” You admitted shamefully. It seemed like Sirius had appeared in the room to give you a (loving) talking to as well. 
“Then in that case, you call one of us, yeah?” He grabbed your face gently, turning you away from James to look at him. He had his whole intimidation thing going on that made you want to melt into the floor. “You don’t get to put yourself in danger walking in this.” He gave your chin an affectionate squeeze before dropping his hand from your face, you let your gaze fall to the floor.
“I will,” You muttered, barely intelligible. This time it was James who tilted your face up. 
“Speak up baby, and look Pads in the eye when you talk to him.” He was gentle but still assertive. You quickly corrected. 
“I will call you next time.” Still mousy, but at a discernible volume, and now you could see when Sirius’ usual grin overtook his concerned features. He pulled you into him, giving you a tight squeeze. 
“You’re okay, babydoll. You’re not in trouble.” He kissed your neck, making it hard for you to breathe. 
“Who’s not in trouble?” You heard Remus’ even tone from the kitchen. You tugged the two men next to you over to where Remus was. He was sitting at the counter, doing some work on his laptop.
“Well it seems like Y/N was determined to give us the fright of our life this afternoon.” James joked (rather dramatically in your opinion), but it’s all good now. 
“They will be requiring some hot chocolate, though.” Sirius pinched at your nose, making an awful cooing sound. “Baby, your face is still all cold.” 
Remus stood up to rummage through the box of hot drink mixes. “Pads love, could you run upstairs and grab the sweater off the end of the bed?” his voice turned more serious as he looked at you. “It doesn’t surprise me that you’re still cold, that shirt likely isn’t doing much to keep you warm.” 
“Actually,” You spoke up, ignoring his comment. “Could I have some coffee instead?” James scoffed and Remus rolled his eyes. 
“It’s half past five, baby dove. You’ll be up all night if you have caffeine right now.” Remus clearly wasn’t in the mood to be argued with, but you pressed in.
“I’ll be fine! Besides, my head hurts and I need to get some work done.” 
“Yeah, well, get that idea out of your head.” James shook your shoulders affectionately. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately, you need a rest.” 
“Who needs a rest?” Sirius trotted over to you, manhandling you to get Remus’ sweater over your head. 
“Y/N,” James tattled. “They think they’re getting coffee at this hour.” He laughed like you were being obviously ridiculous. “They also have a headache and didn’t tell us.” You must’ve looked absolutely appalled and quickly floundered to control the damages. 
“I didn’t think it was important! It’s not bad anyway.” 
“Well, let’s try to keep it from getting bad.” Remus handed you a steaming cup of hot cocoa, along with a packet of biscuits. “Here, eat these so you can take some pain pills.” He glanced over to James, making the bespectacled boy rummage through the medicine box while Sirius set on getting a glass of water for you. 
“I don’t need any medicine, it will go away on its own.” You pleaded, covering your mouth full of biscoff and feeling flustered from all the attention. Sirius clearly disagreed, because the comment earned you a hard pinch on your bum. 
“Do what Moons said” He punctuated the order with a kiss to your forehead, letting you know he wasn’t really upset with you. Sirius may play stern, but he was really just silly and enjoyed ordering you around a bit, knowing that it made you heated and blushy. 
You set down your hot drink and half-eaten snack to take the pills and water, swallowing your pills and finishing the whole glass before you handed it back. 
“There you go,” James cooed, pulling you into his side. “That’s a good girl” 
You groaned, earning a dark chuckle from Remus.
"Poor baby," He teased, clearly not feeling very sorry for you.
It was going to be a trying night.
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princessbellecerise · 1 month
Text
You Kiss Their Scars
Summary ✩ How your lover reacts to you kissing their scars
Warnings ✩ Mentions of violence and blood
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Jacaerys Velaryon
You were amused as your lips pressed against the teeth shaped scars, in the shape of tiny little bite marks that Jace explained were from Vermax
“He used to bite me plenty when we shared a crib,” Your husband told you. “He was a nasty little thing. Mother was afraid he’d take a chunk out of my arm—but he never did. He stopped doing it when I bit him back,” He revealed
You giggled as you imagined baby Jace and baby Vermax—both the same size at one point—going at it while Rhaenyra tried to separate them. “So I suppose you’ve both always been temperamental then,” You said
It was no surprise that your husband, who also had quite the temper, related so much to his dragon. The two were one of the same, and you guessed that’s why they got along so well
“Yes,” Jacaerys agreed, a fond smile on his face as he recalled the memories. “We were quite a menacing pair indeed.”
Aegon Targaryen
“She did it again,” Is the only thing Aegon had to tell you in order for you to pull him into your arms, kissing the spot where a nasty red bruise was forming
It was no secret that your husband and his mother did not get along, but never did you think that she would have the audacity to strike him after an argument
It was appalling to you every time it happened, and you wanted nothing more than to march towards her and give the same treatment, Queen be damned
It wasn’t fair that she took out her anger out on Aegon but he begged you, no pleaded with you to not do anything
“It won’t do any good,” He’d tell you sadly, and your heart would ache as you saw the brokenness, the sadness on his face. “She’ll just hate me even more if you act.”
Aemond Targaryen
“Hold still.”
You jutted your tounge out in concentration as you cleaned Aemond’s scar, making sure that it was sanitized properly for the day
Your husband trusting you with such a thing was an act of love itself. The fact that he trusted you to see his deepest insecurity meant alot to you, and all you could do to repay him and hopefully bring up his spirits was pepper light kisses on the skin surrounding it
“There, all done.”
“Thank you, my love,” Aemond smiled slightly as he touched the spots were your lips touched, still wondering how he got so lucky as to find someone like you
Cregan Stark
“Ow! Be gentle, woman,” Cregan said playfully, wincing as you brushed over his ‘scar’ with a wet cloth
Somehow, for some reason, your dear husband thought it would be funny to wrestle with his dire wolf and then he had the nerve to come crawling to you, asking you to patch up his wounds after the beast had bitten him
Of course, it wasn’t really that big of a deal and Cregan wasn’t really hurt, but you still smirked as you pressed a kiss to it like it was a real wound
“There. That should ease some of the pain, you big baby,” You teased, rolling your eyes
Cregan chuckled as he checked your work, looking at the bandage you had placed over some ointment
“What do you suppose it’ll look like when it heals?” He asked you seriously
“It’ll look like you simply have a freckle, Creagn,” You responded sarcastically, and then you giggled as he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap
“Don’t make fun me, wife. You should be proud,” He said, flexing the arm where the bite was. “How many men do you know have taken on such a beast and lived to tell the tale?”
“Only you, husband. Only you.” You snorted at his dramatics, wondering just what you were going to do with your silly, drama queen of a husband
Benjicot Blackwood
There was reason they called your husband ‘Bloody Ben’
You found this out when one day, he came limping home after solving a conflict in the Riverlands, covered in wounds and blood—so much blood
Thankfully, most of it wasn’t his but Benji still did have a few wounds that needed looking after
The Maester was busy, having been sent by your husband to tend to the other men, so you got the pleasure of dragging him to your chambers, making sure that he was clean before you began to stitch him up
The entire time you worked, Benji barely even flinched which amazed you
By the time that you were done with his top half, he’d barely said a word or complained which led to you kissing over a few of his stitches as a reward
“What was that for?” He asked in wonder, a small blush on his cheeks while you grinned
“That, my love, is for being such a good patient,” You told him cheekily, and you did not expect what Benji did next
Standing up, he loosened his trousers and then he grinned as he pointed at the area beneath his small clothes
“Well in that case, I’ll need plenty of kisses here, too. No promises that I won’t move if you touch me there though.”
“Benji!”
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iheartmapi · 1 month
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Vicious
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Alexia Putellas x Reader
Summary: After Spain’s match against Germany, Alexia injuries her knee. Having to take a health break from playing irritates her, Y/n tries to cheer her girlfriend up to no avail, they fight and Alexia leaves…she’s gone for a long time so you go looking for her.
Angst with happy ending.
TW: crude language, degrading language about oneself, ACL injury
Word count: 1,691
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The sun was setting slowly behind the city landscape, the warm tones slowly turning into various shades of violet and dark blue almost reminded you of the way Alexia’s mood drastically changed after her ACL injury.
You stood in the kitchen of your shared house, occasionally looking behind you to see your moody girlfriend sitting on the couch in the living room, her injured leg perched up on a small stool, you were making some tea, the electric kettle buzzing, two cups were on the counter, for Alexia’s tea you had went with a blend of chamomile and lavender, it was advertised as “calming” and that’s one thing she definitely wanted right now.
As the kettle got done with heating the water up you swiftly poured it into the cups. You carefully put them on the coffee table and finally sat down next to your girlfriend. The silence went on for maybe like two minutes..during the few past days it felt as if you were walking on eggshells around her, you turned your head to look at her and smiled even though she wasn’t even glancing in your direction, only looking into emptiness with her brows furrowed and arms crossed almost like a small child that didn’t get its candy. “Hey, don’t worry so much I’m sure you’ll heal quickly, why don’t you drink some tea-“ You were about to finish your sentence but Alexia opted to cut it short “I don’t want tea right now” Well that was rude…but you shouldn’t be so hard on her, after all you knew how difficult dealing with this injury was for her, so you kept on trying, trying to cheer her up. “Oh…well how about we see what they’re playing on the TV? We can always watch some show or movie or anything really-“ Alexia sat up straighter, irritation clear in her eyes “Can you quit it with the tea and TV? Or better, just quit trying to cheer me up, it’s annoying” she barked at you, “Alright, Jesus…sorry for wanting to be nice” you answered calmly but it was evident that you were offended and perhaps getting annoyed with how unapproachable she was being lately.
“”Nice”? For fucks sake Y/n! Do you see my leg? I’m useless, and I’m supposed to be a ball of sunshine just because you want it?!” She waved her hands around like a maniac “But why would I expect you to get it” she scoffed, you turned to look at her again your eyes narrowing “Seriously? Am I some subtype then or something?“ Alexia looked away, running away from your gaze that was demanding an explanation “I didn’t say that” she answered more quietly now “You kind of did though” you argued, “Oh my god can’t I just live in peace for one goddamn minute?! Here you go again, making a problem out of nothing, it’s like this every time something isn’t in tip top shape…it’s tiring Y/n, I swear you’re so difficult for no reason” that kind of hurt, you were appalled by her outburst “It’s not my fault, don’t you think it’s hard for me as well? Especially when-“ You bit your tongue before you could finish that sentence, maybe it was true and you were really making a problem out of nothing..but you had your emotions too, and Alexia shouldn’t be expecting you to be fine every time she gets enraged like this.
“Especially when what?” She repeated your words, her tone sharp, you took a breath not wanting to answer that, “Especially when what Y/n!” She said once again, this time nearly yelling, “Especially when you’re such a vicious bitch everytime you’re mad!” Quietness fell upon the both of you, before Alexia suddenly got up from the couch, slowly though as to not make her leg worse..but even for her it was clear how hasty she was trying to be with her moves.
“Where are you going?” Your eyes were trying to run after her, she waddled towards the front door “Doesn’t matter” she fumed, you didn’t follow her at first, but as you heard the sound of jingling keys you stood up as well and rushed to the front door, surely Alexia was leaving.
“Alexia?” Confusion crossed your face, and then worry and regret for your earlier words “Alexia come on! I’m sorry I didn’t mean it!” She didn’t answer your pleas, and just left…you sighed as the door closed.
She was a grown woman, you couldn’t just stop her from leaving the house if she wanted to..you sulked onto the carpet beneath you, hands covering your face, why the hell did you say that? You were definitely too rough on her..but at the same time what were you supposed to do? There was nothing you could do now, you were just going to wait for her to come back home, after all she couldn’t be out for too long, especially with a leg like that.
So here you were now, sipping on your tea as you sat and welled in your own sadness, eyes glancing at the empty cup on the coffee table that was supposed to be Alexia’s..It’s been probably three hours now, and there were no signs of life from Alexia, you picked up your phone; the lack of messages or missed calls from your girlfriend was no surprise to you, you picked your best friends number, Mapi, you had to talk to someone when there was no one in this empty house filled with bitter tension.
“¡Hola, tía!” Mapi’s voice echoed from the other side, “Hey” you answered, a small smile on your face, which was heard in your tone but the overwhelming sadness took it over, Mapi could easily recognise that, “Is everything alright? You sound very down in the dumps” you weren’t sure how to answer, eventually you just sighed and told Mapi about what happened earlier with Alexia.
“And then…she just left the house, it’s been three hours I’m starting to worry, I mean- what if she like fell down and hurt herself even more or something?” You said “You know how she can be, I’m sure she’s fine, she can’t stay mad at you forever Y’know?…especially not you” Mapi said with her cheery voice “I have to go and look for her” you answered seriously “Have you seen her? Do you know where she can be?” You then added, looking for any kind of answer for someone in reasonable humour “Nah…sorry, just be careful ok?” The girl attested “Yeah..I promise I’ll be” the two of you said your goodbye’s and you hanged up..you grouched, trying to think of ANY place Alexia could be right now.
Then one thought came rushing to you like an arrow, what about a specific football pitch she always went to after lost matches? You figured; if she was gone for so long, and you didn’t know where she was then it wouldn’t hurt to drive there and see for yourself.
You literally bolted to your car, and just drove…fifteen minutes passed and you arrived at the spot, the football pitch was set in the outskirts of the town, here it was quiet for a change, the sky was now dark since so much time has passed…as you looked around the place you could understand why this place brought a sense of comfort to Alexia.
Through the tall fence you noticed a figure sulking on one of the benches, as you entered the pitch, it became apparent to you that it was Alexia..thank god you thought first, at least you knew she was safe.
You sauntered over to the bench, the melancholy, regret and anger all mixed together into one confusing combination hanging in the air.
The two of you didn’t say anything for now, instead you just sat yourself next to her on the bench, once again Alexia’s gaze was far and blurry she was just simply staring nowhere. “Alexia…” you kept it quiet not wanting to cause any more arguments today. Finally, your girlfriend looked at you with something else than annoyance and silent resentment.
“Please, let’s go back home” you asked half-whispering, her chest rose as she took a deep breath, it’s like she wanted to but didn’t at the same time, maybe going straight to the point wasn’t the first option, there we’re definitely some things the two of you needed to say to each other. “I’m sorry…I know it’s hard, I know how useless you must feel right now..I really just wanted to make you happy, I hate seeing you like that..that- that I’m just willing to try anything to make it better” you started, Alexia turned to you at once her eyes almost glassy “I’m..I’m sorry too Y/n I just don’t know what came over me..I guess the irritation took over me, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you” she answered “I don’t know why I did that, but I just…I don’t know, it’s my whole life, and now with this stupid knee I’m just stuck home, and I just feel like I’ve got no other purpose” she almost teared up, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into an embrace “Alexia…you know that’s not true” you whispered “Injuries happen, you’ll get back to playing in no time I’m sure” you added, a quiet sob was heard, it was unlike her to be so vulnerable…but you appreciated that she was able to show that side of herself with you.
Pulling away, you placed a kiss on her temple, “You’re right, let’s go back home” she said wiping the traces left behind by some tears with her sleeve.
You got up and offered her your arm, she took it and the two of you slowly made your way towards the exit of the pitch.
“I’m sorry I called you a vicious bitch”
“No, don’t apologize, you were right then…I guess I was a bit of a bitch” she smiled
“I’m sorry for calling you annoying” she then added more seriously
“You were being honest then too” you grinned as well and the two of you chuckled.
“I guess we’re a good match together”
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(Thanks to @kshvue099)
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hollyseb · 6 months
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I DO
Mob! Bucky x Reader - Forced Marriage AU
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Warnings: swearing, violence, misogyny?, sexual content (MINORS DNI)
3.2k words
Summary; Bucky, a member of the mob, and the daughter of his enemy find themselves entangled in a complex relationship.
No fucking way.
Your throat tightened. The reflection in the mirror portrayed a stranger—pale complexion, vacant eyes.
“You look beautiful,” Nat reassured you, placing her steady hands on your bare shoulders, but you’d never felt so appalled. She was trying to comfort you but fell on deaf ears.
Your gaze dropped to the dress. It fits you perfectly, especially with your hair trailing down your back.
You wanted to rip it all off.
“Nat”, your voice meek, tears threatening to fall.
"I'll be by your side through it all, and if that mystery man dares to step out of line, well, a broken nose wouldn't hurt," she attempted a smile, but it faltered. Your best friend gave your shoulders a final squeeze.
Today is your wedding day.
As you found out yesterday. Yesterday. You seethed, manicured hands clenching.
“How could this happen to me, Nat?”, you asked through gritted teeth, the reality of the situation setting in.
Nat's gaze softened, her eyes filled with a sadness you couldn't bear to meet. "We both know why," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, the truth of her words like a knife to your heart. Your father's illicit dealings had finally caught up with you, dragging you into a web of deceit and manipulation from which there seemed to be no escape.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could I be so naive?
And so, you became a pawn in your father’s game. An object to be bought, owned and sold off at will.
It was all a show of power. You cross me, and I’ll rob your daughter of the rest of her life. You were nothing more than collateral damage.
———————————
As Bucky adjusted his tie in the mirror, the reflection staring back at him was that of a man with a steely resolve, a predator poised to strike. His jaw clenched with determination, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity.
“One last drink before you’re hitched?” Steve smirked, pushing a whiskey into his best friend's hand.
Bucky sent him a sharp look. “Come on Steve, you act like I'm not the one calling the shots here”, the glint in his eyes portraying a confidence that bordered on arrogance.
In a swift motion, he downed the alcohol and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His throat burned. He lavished the feeling.
“Marrying a woman you’ve never even seen?” Steve's grin widened, his tone holding a hint of scepticism.
Bucky dragged a hand down his face. “All part of the game, my friend” he responded cryptically, a flicker of anticipation glimmering in his eyes.
“You never know, pal, she might be a knockout”, Steve teased, a veiled reassurance towards his friend.
”Yeah. Fat fucking chance, as long as Pierce knows I can take everything he holds dear, I’m a happy man”
With a nod of agreement, Steve raised his glass in a silent salute. "I'll drink to that," he said.
———————
Deep breaths.
You felt nauseous.
You stepped into the aisle, honing your vision on the figure standing by the altar. He had his back to you but, he was tall, broad and masculine.
Ripping your eyes from the man and planting them on your feet. Just make it down the aisle without tipping over.
Bucky turned to face you. Holy shit. His surprise was palpable. He wasn’t expecting this. You knocked the breath from his lungs. You looked beautiful. Your dress moulded perfectly to your body, skin glowing. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
You felt a cool hand press against the small of your back.
“Hey”, a deep voice whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
A response far too casual for the situation at hand.
His hand moved to your waist, guiding you to face him and look at him. Fuck him. You knew this was a stupid, stubborn attempt to maintain some form of control, but you couldn’t stop yourself.
That was until he placed a finger under your chin, his touch surprisingly gentle. Oh. He is gorgeous. Sculpted face, baby blue eyes, pink lips. His touch was far too gentle for someone so evil.
“H-hi”, you stammered, your voice portraying the nervousness you felt.
Bucky’s smirk only widened at your response, as if he found amusement in your discomfort. It was infuriating. He was drinking in your wide eyes and aloof expression. You were so innocent. He almost felt bad for inviting you into his world. Almost.
He wanted to devour you.
”Well…aren’t you a sweet little thing”, his finger tilted your head back as he unashamedly raked his eyes over your features, with an almost predatory hunger.
You forced a sweet smile, concealing the disgust you felt at his patronising comment, “get your fucking hands off of me”, you retorted sharply.
Bucky’s smirk faltered for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features, before being replaced by amusement again. “Such a filthy mouth for a pretty girl… I’ll sort that out for you”, he replied, his grip on your chin tightening.
You snarled at him, resisting the urge to clock him in his cocky face.
It was almost humorous, the way the interaction looked like a loving husband whispering sweet nothings to his wife, when it couldn’t be further from the truth.
The vows went by in a blur, all words sounding muted and unreal, until the time came to kiss the man you met half an hour ago.
Bucky couldn’t look anymore gleeful, revelling in your discomfort.
“Come on honey, I promise I’m a fantastic kisser”, he taunted, arrogance in his smirk.
You opened your mouth for a retort, but his lips landed on yours before you could protest. You hated how he was so gentle, caressing your cheek while his tongue ran across your bottom lip.
Damn it, he is a fantastic kisser.
Pulling away, you forced yourself to compose, concealing the turmoil within. He was so gentle, as if he was afraid you’d break in two at his kiss. Bucky’s touch held a power over you. You despised it, but it was overwhelming.
The reception blurred into a whirlwind of congratulatory embraces and forced smiles. Every glance from Bucky sent shivers down your spine. He was everywhere. A hand on the small of your back, an arm draped across your waist.
As the night wore on, you found yourself cornered by Bucky, his presence suffocating. His whispered promises of a future together sounded more like threats, each word tightening the knot of discomfort in your stomach.
“Is it time for that broken nose yet?” Nat whispered into your ear as you snorted at her comment, your first genuine smile all day.
“I’m ready whenever you are”, you replied, before taking her into an embrace. Her presence was a lifeline in the chaos of this ceremony.
Even after your moment of solace with Nat, Bucky's presence loomed like a dark cloud. His eyes followed your every move, logging everybody you spoke to, as he watched with an adverse gaze.
Unable to bear his suffocating presence any longer, you slipped away from the crowd, seeking refuge in the quiet solitude of the garden.
The cool night air enveloped you, offering a brief respite from the whirlwind wedding. Sitting on the wooden bench, you closed your eyes, simply focusing on breathing, before being unsurprisingly interrupted.
With a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, Bucky leaned against the stone wall, the faint glow of a cigarette illuminating his features in the darkness.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said, his voice low and gravelly, tinged with a hint of his streetwise charm.
"Yeah? Well, I’m fine," you replied curtly, refusing to show any vulnerability in his presence.
Bucky's smirk widened, the glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Sure you are," he said, his tone teasing. "But just in case you need a hand getting rid of any unwanted guests, you know what to say."
“Nobody’s watching here, you know? You don’t need to keep up this facade”, you replied, more angrily than you’d expected.
Bucky’s expression darkened at your accusation, a flicker of hurt crossing his features. “Facade? Come on, darlin’ you know me better than that”
”Do I?”, your voice echoed, not ready to submit to him.
He took a step closer, his movements fluid and deliberate. "Yeah, you do," he replied, his tone edgier now, devoid of its earlier teasing edge. "You think I’m doing this all for me?"
You found yourself unable to make eye contact with the mobster, “I think this is a game… where I’m being used as a pawn”, you confessed, a sadness in your voice.
Bucky was taken aback by your raw vulnerability. He lifted your chin with his forefinger, as he did in the ceremony, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were a cocktail of remorse and sincerity.
“A game? I won’t lie, doll, I’ve done things that I’m not proud of”, he swallowed hard, grappling with the actions that had led to this moment, “but I wouldn’t drag you into this twisted world simply to be a pawn”.
You fought internally, unsure of what to believe.
Bucky stepped back slightly, his eyes raking over your features as his finger drew an arc over your jaw. "I know this ain't the ideal situation for either of us," he began, his voice softer now, tinged with a hint of regret. "But we're in this together now."
Your features softened and you let yourself relax into his gentle touch. The voice in your head stressing about how dangerous this man was began to quieten. You needed this comfort.
"I want you to know," Bucky continued, his words measured yet genuine, "that I ain't gonna let anyone hurt you. Not while I'm around."
"Thank you," you murmured, the weight of the day's events finally beginning to lift from your shoulders. "I appreciate that."
Bucky offered you a small, understanding smile before gesturing toward the door leading back to the reception hall. "Come on," he said gently, "let's get back inside.”
Bucky flicked his cigarette into the darkness, the ember glowing brightly before fading into nothingness.
As the night wore on, the exhaustion of the day's events began to weigh heavily on you.
“You ready to call it a night?” Bucky asked, sweeping a stray hair behind your ear.
His eyes were fixated on yours until you replied with a simple nod.
You began saying your farewells to the guests, making sure to hug Nat especially hard. You eyed Bucky as he seemed to be having an enthralling conversation with a man you recalled being introduced to as Steve. You made a mental note to ask him about his friend.
You let Bucky guide you into his mansion, down the large halls, to the bridal suite. Everything was gorgeous, sophisticated and modern.
You hadn’t let your mind trail to what your wedding night would bring, you found yourself wondering whether he’d even stay in the same wing as you.
As you and Bucky stepped into the dimly lit room, the air was hot with anticipation, charged with the unspoken tension between you.
As you turned to face him, ready to bid him goodnight and retreat to your separate quarters, Bucky's gaze met yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a rawness that took you by surprise.
"Can I stay with you tonight?" His voice was low, almost hesitant, betraying the confident facade he often wore. There was a hint of uncertainty in his words, a vulnerability that made your heartache.
It was a bold move, really, you both knew it. For a request you were so sure you would’ve declined earlier in the day, you found yourself taken aback.
“Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "Yes, you can stay."
As the door clicked shut behind Bucky, you felt anticipation in the air. His gaze lingered on you, his eyes tracing the contours of your figure with a certain hunger.
“Let me take off that wedding dress," he murmured, his words laced with desire. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to resist him, daring you to deny the attraction that pulsed between you.
Your head was spinning, the way he bounced between sincerity and domination.
For a brief moment, you hesitated, the thought of shedding the symbol of your forced marriage felt like an admission of defeat, surrendering to the forces that had brought you to this moment.
The primal hunger in Bucky’s eyes convinced you, with a hesitant nod, you faced your back to him and pulled your hair over your shoulder.
Bucky’s fingers delicately worked the fastens on your dress, his gaze transfixed on your back. You felt yourself becoming conscious, truly realising for the first time that this man was going to see you at your most vulnerable.
Sensing your apprehension, the air shifted, “you’re doing great, sweetheart”, he murmured, “Tonight, it’s just you and me”.
You eased at his words, as the fabric pooled at your feet in a cascade of silk and lace.
With a tender smile, Bucky reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek with a feather-light touch. “God, you’re beautiful”, he whispered, his voice filled with awe.
His words warmed you from the inside out. There was something more than desire in his gaze. It ignited a fire in you that threatened to consume everything in its path.
In the dim light of the room, you could see the raw hunger in Bucky's eyes, the longing that burned like a fire deep within his soul. But beneath the hardened exterior, there was a vulnerability—a longing for connection, for intimacy.
You doubted he was some sort of blushing virgin, especially with the stunt he pulled at the altar, but it was hard to believe he looked at other women like this.
“W-will you… are you going to…”, you faltered, not quite knowing how to ask him the question.
”Going to what, doll?”
“You know… it’s an arranged marriage. Are you planning to…see other women?”, you ventured, your voice hesitant, uncertain of how to broach the topic.
Bucky's gaze softened as he sensed the gravity of your words, his expression shifting from one of intensity to one of attentiveness. He reached out, gently grasping your hand in his, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.
“I understand why you might have doubts, especially given the circumstances," he began, his voice calm and reassuring. "But I want you to know that I take this marriage seriously. This isn’t a game to me. You’re my wife".
His words carried a weight of sincerity that eased some of the tension in your chest. "I won't deny that my past may have been... adventurous," he continued with a wry smile, "but when it comes to you, I'm all in. I won't be seeing other women. You have my word."
“O-okay”, a small smile playing on your lips.
“And just so we’re clear”, he added, a playful glint in his eye, “you’re not allowed to see other men either”.
You rolled your eyes at that, your smile widening.
Bucky's eyes softened as they landed on your lips, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his own. "You've got a beautiful smile, you know," he remarked, his tone unexpectedly sincere.
As you met his gaze once more, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled with a warmth that mirrored your own.
“Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, feeling the electricity between you intensify with each passing moment. The hunger in his eyes mirrored your own.
With a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you reach out to him, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as you draw him closer. The air crackles with tension as your lips meet in a searing kiss, passion and need colliding in a heady rush of sensation.
His hands pulled on your hips, desperate to get you impossibly closer. Your head was spinning.
Bucky gently walked you to the bed, falling onto the sheets when your calves knocked the frame. He ate up the gasp that escaped from your lips hungrily.
“Fuck. I want to devour you”, he murmured against your lips, before taking your bottom one between his teeth. You could only gasp in response as he rolled it.
Bucky’s hands grabbed your wrists, gently placing them above your head. A stark contrast between his gentleness and dominance. His lips trailed down the curve of your neck, nipping and tucking, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
You arched against him, a soft “B-Bucky” escaping your lips.
Bucky released a guttural moan as you bucked your hips into the muscular thigh positioned between your legs.
”Easy, sweetheart”, he whispered, his voice husky with desire. “I don’t want to overwhelm you”.
Bucky's hands trembled slightly as he fought to restrain his desire, the urge to lose himself in the moment almost overwhelming. His breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to control the primal urges that threatened to consume him.
His hands, which had been so commanding just moments before, now moved with a feather-light touch.
"I need to slow down," he muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice strained with effort.
You placed a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch, “we can slow down, Bucky”, you whispered reassuringly, your eyes filled with concern.
Bucky's struggle was like a battle raging within him, the conflicting desires tearing at his very core. He was used to being in control, but with you, he felt a primal urge to let go, to surrender to the passion that threatened to consume him.
But he couldn't. Not yet. Not with you.
He looked into your eyes, his own filled with gratitude and longing. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice tinged with relief. "I just want to make sure I'm not pushing you too far, too fast."
He’d never cared for the women he’d taken to bed in the past. There was something about you, an innocence he wanted to preserve, but simultaneously fuck out of you, make it his own.
“I’m okay, I promise”, you reassured him.
“No…it’s me. I want to lose myself in you but… I won’t be able to control myself. I want to do this right”, he admitted.
You caressed his face with your hand, letting a silence fall over you and your husband. He traced circles on your bare skin with his fingertips.
Bucky's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. Feeling the weight of the day finally catching up with you, you nestled into Bucky's embrace, allowing the rhythm of his steady breathing to lull you into a peaceful slumber.
Bucky drifted into a calm sleep, the calmest he’d had in months, until the shrill ring of his phone shattered the silence. Groaning, he fumbled for the source of the disturbance, his hand eventually finding the cold metal of his cell phone on the nightstand.
"Steve?" Bucky muttered, his voice thick with sleep as he answered the call, his mind struggling to shake off the fog of slumber.
"Yeah, it's me," Steve's urgent voice crackled through the line, cutting through Bucky's drowsiness like a knife. "We got a problem”.
Bucky sent a glance to your sleeping form, the sheets pooling around your waist, with your chest lifting rhythmically.
He ran a hand down his face and groaned, not wanting to leave you. “How bad is it?”, he asked, debating whether to throw the phone at the wall.
“Bad enough”, Steve replied grimly.
——————————
Taglist!
@casa-boiardi @winterslove1917 @writingpastmybedtime @thealyrs @kandis-mom @blackhawkfanatic @scott-loki-barnes @mrsevans90 @melsunshine
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yutarot · 1 month
Text
SHES THE MAN [l.hc smau]
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23 - i guess we both had our secrets. wc: 1k
TBU campus — 11:07am
the past few weeks had gone slowly. it had taken you a while to get back into the routine of your old life, no esports, no ncu and no haechan.
just you, your friends and this horrible sinking feeling in your stomach.
you miss him more than you’ll ever admit to ten or yourself. but there is nothing you can do but watch, as days pass, in fear that you’ll forget all the memories you made with him. whether they were classed as real memories or not, you struggle to decipher, but considering the ache that you feel in remembering them, you decide that you can cherish them as if they were.
this morning was just another morning, leaving your dorm with ningning and making your way to classes. the campus always seemed so fresh, so new, and you hated the way that, with every corner you turn, you risk the chances of bumping into the one person you do not want to see.
eric sohn.
somehow, you’ve avoided him ever since ami revealed your secret. but you know that the moment you see him, he’s not going to let you go peacefully.
it had taken a while for people on campus to come to terms with what had happened. luckily, most people found it hilarious, patting you on the back when they saw you, congratulating you for doing what you wanted and nearly getting away with it.
you hang on to that ‘nearly’, clutching onto the possibility of what it might’ve been if you were never exposed.
your thoughts are interrupted.
“meet me back here at 1?” ningning asks, referring to you both having to split to go to seperate buildings at this point. you nod at her before making your way to the biology block.
if only you knew that you would never make it.
because, standing in your direct line of sight is not only the man you least want to see, but there he is, staring directly at you.
and he’s grinning.
you want to turn away, you really do, you’ve been dreading this interaction for weeks. but you keep walking forward until your face to face with him, your legs moving you out of curiosity and perhaps madness.
“hi yn.” he says. your glad he’s not got any of his friends with him, you couldn’t think of anything worse than having sunwoo laugh in your face.
“hi eric.”
“so, NCU huh?”
oh god.
“ye-“
“you know, i had my suspicions about you after seeing you help haechan out of that party, wasn’t very stranger-like of you.”
you stay silent. you know what question he’s going to ask next, and there’s nothing you can do to prepare yourself for the sting it’s going to hit you with.
“did he know you were lying directly to his face about who you were the entire fucking time?”
there it is.
you’re annoyed, “why do you care?” you say, but he only scoffs.
he’s smug, and you hate it. “all of that, for me? wow yn, you must have really hurt their feelings when you left. i’m curious, were you planning to tell them, ever? or were you just expecting to disappear out of nowhere? thinking no one would notice?”
there’s a sinister tone to his voice that confuses you. why is he asking so many irrelevant questions? why is he not asking you what happened?
but then, it hits you.
“you were behind it, all of it.”
his creeping smile answers your question before he can even open his mouth.
“hmmm and what do you mean by it?”
you hate how happy he is, you hate how much he’s smiling.
“you told ami that chenle had been away. you’d found out somehow, and you’d told her.”
he shrugged, “all it took was $20 in hyunjaes hand and he was happy to hack into chenles phone to send a text to ami. you should have known that younghoon was in the same basketball team as chenle, not my fault.”
“you’re sick.”
“i guess we both had our secrets.”
you’re appalled at how right he is, you had been stupid, you’d overlooked all the small details and you’d missed out on everything that was looking you directly in the face. eric beating up haechan unprovoked? him attacking haechan in the fortnite tournament? this entire time, he wasn’t trying to mess with haechan, he was trying to mess with you, and you just let it all happen because you turned a blind eye to the fact that he might have known. he had no reason for attacking chenle and the ncu team, unless he knew that it was never really chenle at all.
“you knew the whole time?”
he raises his eyebrows, smugness in his eyes that doesn’t cease to make you feel nauseous. “well, you helping haechan at the party was the main giveaway, why else do you think i started punching him in the first place?”
“you were trying to confirm it for yourself… to see if i would go over to help him…”
“oh you really are smart yn!”
you hate eric, in this moment and forever. he had planned this all perfectly from the beginning, disguising his hatred for you as hatred for haechan. and haechan didn’t deserve a single ounce of that hate.
you did.
you hate that it all could have worked out, you could have stayed in the team and you could have beat tbu. but it’s because of your own stupidity that you let eric find out everything.
and haechan. oh how you wish you could find him and apologise for everything, you wish you could go back to the very beginning, never get yangyangs twitter, never dm him and never accept that first game request from haechan.
this was all a horrible, horrible mistake.
and it’s all your fault.
so all you can do is walk away. that’s all you seem to ever do.
you walk, and you walk and you walk.
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[m.list] [next]
TAGLIST - CLOSED - @lostinneocity @aek1ra @haechansleftshoulder @sunghoonsgfreal @cyjzzl @nanaxwi @neocrashed @candied-czennie @alethea-moon @vantxx95 @nerdsungie @morkiee @sthwaaberry @sunnystarred @p-d1ddy @starfilledgaze @markeroolee @polarisjisung @222brainrot @grassbutneo @minsugahh @daegalfangirl @injunnie-lemon @therealbobbyshloby @flwrs4marklee @chenlesfavorite @jirsungs @donghyucksslut @junviadinho @minkyuncutie @multifandomania @n0hyuck @yehet267 @nctrawberries @neogothyuckie @snoopyjimin @yewshi @theyluvfrankocean @nanamyh3art @i03jae @ckline35 @hyuoonp @galacticnct @haechology @lttlekomori @cutiebambi @tynlvr @sunflowerhae @joyzluvr @taeeflwrr
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Count Alexei Vronsky x wife!reader
Summary: Your husband comforts you on your period.
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: blood. having a period lol, probably shitty Russian translation
~ sorry this took soooo so long, anon! i also realize I have completely ignored our boy so here is some Vronsky love ~
COUNT VRONSKY MASTERLIST
You had a dreadful feeling in your stomach that this would happen. Your mind blanks as you feel the cramp coming on again and you can feel the blood drip down your thighs, being stopped by nothing and inevitably soaking your undergarments.
You feel dizzy as the darkness of the room seems to taunt you. You're too scared to move, in case that means you'll stain your husband's satin sheets—if you haven't already. You turn your head and look at Alexei, who is asleep, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in your head. Your heart thumps. You don't want to wake him for this, but everything hurts now.
You shift, the wetness pooling your thighs as tears prickle your eyes as you stir. Finally, you sit up and wince as you hold your stomach. You bend your head, keeping in pained whimpers as you don't dare stand and look at the bloody mess that is surely underneath you. 
"Милый (Darling)?" Your husband whispers and you jump, looking at him. The moonlight from the windows illuminates his features as he yawns, sits up and runs a hand in his blond hair. His eyes are bleary and shame hits you. 
You'd woken him up. 
To your horror, he reaches towards you as his hand touches the mattress. He frowns and pulls his hand away, realizing he's just touched what feels like blood.
"Are you hurt?" It's his first question. He's still exhausted as he sits up completely and crawls over the soft blankets to sit next to you, avoiding the stains he can see on the sheets. Alexei looks at you, seeing the blood on your nightdress and around you as well as the tears in your eyes. 
While he isn't the most educated on this issue, he isn't entirely useless either. His blue eyes soften and he takes your chin in his hand. "Милый (Darling), it's okay," he soothes, wiping your tears with his thumb. "It happens."
"The sheets," you whisper back, sniffling. 
"Can be washed or thrown away. It isn't a problem, мой голубь (my dove)." He looks down at you again. "Does it hurt terribly?"
You nod, gripping your nightdress. "I was going to draw myself a bath," you tell him. Alexei hums. He looks at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, it's four in the morning. He yawns again and runs his hand down his face, rubbing his eyes until he snaps awake. 
"Nonsense. I'll do it for you," he says and takes your hands, helping you stand. You wince as blood continues to drip down your legs and you look at your husband, appalled by your own body.
Alexei shakes his head. "Will you stop worrying? A bit of blood never hurt anyone, promise." 
He looks down at his blood-stained hands from earlier, having now stained yours, and grimaces a little. "We both need to clean up, Милый (Darling)," he says and guides you down the hall and into the bathroom.
You follow, a lump still in your throat. Alexei washes his hands in the sink, having you do the same before you stand in front of him, looking very miserable as the water runs into the tub. His soft hands glide across your skin, lifting your nightdress as he looks at you, no sign of perversion, simply pure admiration in his eyes. 
"You're always so beautiful," he tells you honestly, his hand on your hips. You have the undeniable need to cover up yourself as you stand naked in front of him. Alexei holds your hands in his when you try and he shushes you.
"Please don't hide from me," he says as he kisses your forehead tenderly. "I didn't marry you just to have you hide yourself from me.”
You look at him, eyes still tired and teary, but you allow him to guide you into the bath, the warm water staining red but neither of you seems to mind as Alexei kneels beside you, scrubbing at your legs as he hums.
You watch him, taking in his hair and the way his blue eyes shimmer. "I'm sorry."
"Whatever for, Мой Милый (My darling)?"
You sniffle for the thousandth time, wetting the tips of your hair as you relax in the bath. The warm water soothes your cramps. "For making a mess. Waking you up." 
Alexei smiles and pushes some wet strands away from your eyes as he leans over, not caring that his nightshirt is a little damp now or that he's had to roll the sleeves up to his elbows, as he kisses your forehead. 
"In sickness and in health. I meant it. Until we die," Alexei whispers against your skin. "I'll take all the mess you throw at me, Красивый (beautiful)."
And he really does mean it.
tags: @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion, @earth-elemental18
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gilverrwrites · 20 days
Note
I know they’re not an older man per se, but lately I’ve been thinking about Jason or Dick having a good cop-bad cop dynamic with Slade, where Slade is just incredibly mean to you but then Jay or Dick is there to coo sweet words at you
I know the obvious here is Bad cop Slade, good cop Dick or Jason. And I love that. Good cop Dick especially is MWAH! 💕 and I absolutely need to write actual smut for this, anon you beaut! Like Slade pistoning into your puffy, swollen, cum-filled sex, calling you ever name under the sun. Spanking your red raw ass, and calling you weak when you start to sob. But its okay baby, shh, shhhh. Dick is underneath you, kissing your tears, stroking your hair telling you how good your doing as if he's not contributing to your overstimulation, fuck!
But I implore you to stick with me here when I say, AK! Slade and Jason - bad cop, WORSE cop.
Specifically: AK!Jason/Bat!Reader/Slade
As per, Slade is loyal to the money, but this is definitely a darker portrayal of Jason.
Warnings: Dub-con, swearing, interrogation kinda, choking, restraints, humiliation. No smut, but maybe I’ll write an extension.
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The first thing you notice is the smell, you're underground somewhere for sure. Then you feel the cold, a chill across your warm skin, making your hair stand on edge. From that, you register very quickly that you’ve been stripped down to your underwear.
Appalled, you shoot up, reaching to cover yourself but only manage to make it an inch before cold, hard metal cuts into your body. You're tied to a chair by a multitude of pressure points that both hurt and rouse something salacious.
Shit. Shit shit shit. You can’t believe you fucked up this bad. Bruce had told you to get out of the city but you’d refused. You had to be on your top game but you’d fucked it, caused more problems.
Accessing your surroundings your eyes dart around the room until then fall on your captor. Deathstroke is sat a few feet away, leaning back on his chair, seemingly examining something on a tablet. It's hard to tell, the one eye hole in his mask shrouded by shadow. You hadn’t expected him to be at the militia checkpoint. He’d taken you down easier than you’d like to admit, but you’d put up a fight. Tooth and nail. So seeing him so relaxed without so much as a chip in his armour is a little disheartening.
“Trackers in your suit, right?” His deep voice echoes through the room, making you jump. “I would’ve just patted you down, but the boss man didn't want to take any risks.”
His head turns, and you can feel his eye raking across your bound and exposed form. “Not that I'm complaining.”
You recoil into yourself, disgusted by his blatant perversion, and the warm flush it sends through your body.
“Tell your ‘boss’ to come face me himself.” You spit between gritted teeth. His response only adds to your unease.
“Don’t you worry, pet. He’s on his way.” It’s infuriating, the name, the way he words things so tenderly but laces it with obvious, sickly amused derision. If you could feel any smaller, that would do it. “And between you and me, I get the feeling he’s pretty excited to get his hands on you.”
As if on queue, the piercing sound of an opening door creaks behind you. Despite the squeaky warning, you nearly jump for a second time when it slams shut once more. Heavy boots forebodingly stamp against the concrete floor. As much as you want to, you refuse to crane your neck to get a better look. It’s all you can do to maintain even a little bit of power.
“Well, well, well.” The modulated voice is even more sinister in person. His hand grabs the back of your chair, pulling you back a few inches, no doubt just to prove that he could. To instil fear. He leans over you, close enough that the cold metal of his helmet brushes the side of your face, but still, you refuse to look at him. “If it isn’t Baby-Bat.”
“Don’t call me that.” Your venom surprises you. You haven’t heard that nickname in years and it brings out a visceral reaction. It’s what Jason used to call you in jest. Baby-Bird and Baby-Bat, heroes in training.
“Or what?” He challenges, shaking one of the wrist shackles, as though you’re not already well aware of your less-than-ideal predicament. “You’re in no position to be calling any shots, babe.”
“Not for long. Batman will save me, he’ll save the city.” He has too. “You won’t get away with this.”
“Ha.” Deathstroke’s sneer is dry. When you look over to him he gestures his head toward the top dog but you remain resolute in your refusal to look at him. “I’d keep that name out of your mouth, if you know what’s good for you.”
“Wh-“ The words are cut from you before you can get them out. The Arkham Knight, either pissed at your pitiful attempt at a power play, or the mention of Batman's name; lifts you and your chair completely by your throat, turning you mid-air, then placing you back down, precariously balancing you on the seats back legs before getting in your face. All the while his tight grasp on your neck never waivers.
Face hidden, tall, broad, he’s an intimidating sight. The whole display makes your heart race.
“He…” Red-hot rage drips from every word, and you feel your body temperature rising to meet it. “Can’t. Save. Shit.”
The sound of his ragged breathing is amplified by whatever tech he’s using to distort his voice. Each pant sends a shockwave through your body. And you press your legs together to suppress its effect.
“Get fucking comfy.” He barks as he releases you and stands back, watching as you heave for air and teeter wildly before willing the chair to balance on all fours. “Cause he’s not coming for you. Nobody is.”
“Case in point.” Deathstroke finally approaches. It takes his long legs less than 5 steps to reach your side. He stands about half a foot taller than the already gigantic Knight. The way in which they both tower almost impossibly tall makes you tremble, and you’ve no idea if they notice. You can’t stand the added authority they possess simply by being clothed and masked while you sit practically naked for them. Fear is one thing, you can handle being afraid, you’ve been trained for that, but their deliberate show of power, how they make you feel so fragile is awakening something you don’t know how to curb. “Take a look at your hero.”
A screen is thrust into your face, a live feed of a rooftop somewhere in Miagani Island. Batman is on his knees, fists pounding the floor. His mouth is moving but you can’t lip-read him from the angle. Clearly, he’s not okay. This isn’t like him, he must be dosed up on something. In the depths of your brain you know he’ll overcome it, he’ll save Barbara, you, everyone. But you can’t deny how dire things are beginning to look. The doubt must show on your face because The Arkham Knight's robotic voice lets out a short, cold laugh.
“Now you’re getting it.” The wicked pleasure he gets from teasing you is ten times worse than Deathstroke’s blatantly false niceties.
“W-why am I here?” You internally curse yourself for the way your voice breaks. It sparks you to muster a little more spunk as you keep questioning them. “You could have killed me, why didn't you? What do you want?”
“Bring us up to speed on what he knows.” Deathstroke poses. “His new hideout.”
“How he’s getting his gear patched up.” The Knight continues. Neither are looking at you, having turned the tablet back to themselves. “We know you know.”
When you don't respond The Knight slants his helmet upward to consider you, slowly cocking it to the side as you stare him down.
Eventually, Deathstroke follows suit. You wait until the device is tucked away, until you're certain you have their full attention to speak. “I won’t give in that easy.”
You keep your chin up as they turn to look at each other, but despite your bravado, you flinch when Deathstroke sharply drops into a crouched position. The rough fabric of his tactical gloves scratches the soft skin of your inner thigh as he wedges his fingers between your legs. You’d been pressing them closed, hiding how their interrogation had inadvertently been siring your arousal, but he pries them apart, shattering what little dignity you had left.
“Looks like he owes me another 10.” He nods at you before he turning back to the man in question. The Arkham Knight returns the look. Assholes, they’d bet on you. Now they’re having a silent conversation one in which you are the subject, but aren’t important enough to be privy to. Humiliating.
Finally, Deathstroke removes his hands, tracing them along your torso as he saunters behind you but before you can clasp your thighs back together The Knights boot comes down on your crotch, in a fast, precise motion. Pressing hard enough to make you keen and squirm. The chair rocks unsteadily beneath your withering.
“I thought you were better than this Baby-Bat.” No voice distortment can disguise his zeal. Something in the back of your brain suspects he’d been expecting, even hoping for this. And while you certainly hadn't been, you can't deny the sick intrigue you feel for whatever they have planned.
In shame you turn your head, screwing your eyes together as though blocking them out might make it all disappear. The grate of Deathstroke’s gloves on your face keeps you in the moment however, keeps your moral compass spinning.
“Gettin’ paid to break a cute thing like you.” He sounds wistful, gruff voice sinfully musing in your ear as he forces your head forward once more. “That’s a good day's work.”
“And you will break.” The determination in the Knight’s tone, the loudness of it has you peeking through your lids at his mask which is now inches from your face. Fear and excitement invoke a shiver that runs down your spine. “We’ll make you come apart, piece by piece, and we’ll enjoy every second.”
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princessbrunette · 8 months
Note
imagine ward walks in on rafe slapping u and he’s just like 😮 so appalled then he thinks it’s not consensual so rafe forces reader to tell him that it is and she’s just so embarrassed and ashamed :3
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
eeeeeek that’s so embarrassing !!!!!! he walks in and sees you on your knees infront of rafe, who’s sat on the edge of the bed — and he thinks he’s walked in on something else, and goes to back out immediately. but then, his brain catches up with him and he realises you’re crying and that there was a slapping sound to be heard just before he walked in !!!
“woah, what the hell is going on?” ward loudly hollers making the both of you jump as he barges in, heading straight for rafe to grab him by the collar and drag him upwards. “you laying your hands on a woman? is that what i taught you son? did i teach you to be a fucking—”
“dad, dad!” rafe yells, holding his hands up in the air as his father pushes and pulls at him violently.
“mr cameron, it’s really okay!” your voice still trembles and your glassy eyes are wide with fear at the commotion.
“no, no honey it’s not. has my son been hurting you? tell me sweetheart it’s okay.” the older man rushes out, panting with rage. you look at rafe for help, not sure what to say.
“she—she likes it, it’s not like that i swear, tell him!” rafe tries to explain but ward grips him tighter.
“you son of b—”
“its true! mr cameron please let him go, i ask him to do it!” you plead, catching the man’s attention. he lets go, shoving rafe back and staring him down for a few more seconds before turning to you.
“pardon?”
“it… regulates my nervous system, helps me feel things— rafe is… helping me.” your brows are furrowed, eyes wide and truthful. ward stares you down for a moment before turning to his son.
“is this… a sex thing?” he asks regretfully and rafe tongues at his cheek, now just irritated at the interruption.
“wh— kind of, yeah.” rafe responds grumpily. wards face pales a little, stepping back and clearing his throat.
“okay well… just quieten down, kids. can’t have wheezie overhearin’ something like this, okay? she’ll have the whole town thinking my sons beatin’ on his girlfriend by sundown, you know how big that girls mouth is.” he backs towards the door, deeply uncomfortable. “sorry for the commotion.”
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
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lovingseventeen · 1 year
Text
svt doing your makeup
a/n: i luv fluff and i luv seokmin UGH. and i’m releasing this as my 1k event is still going on bc i figured y’all deserve some new ideas too. but please go check out that series too! i’ll put the link to it right here <3
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seungcheol:
✧ claims that sitting on his lap while he does it is necessary
✧ “sit here” he says, patting his lap, “i need you up close”
✧ tries to be as gentle as he can
✧ whines when eyeliner is hard to do then he whines even more when you laugh at him
jeonghan:
✧ lowkey pranks you by telling you he’ll attempt one look but he does something very different
✧ nothing crazy, like he wouldn’t purposefully make you look bad by any means
✧ but maybe he wants to gently push you out of your comfort zone so he picks a new eyeshadow color, but still subtly does it so it isn’t too vivid
✧ “you said you were gonna do my usual!” you gasped when you finally checked yourself in the mirror
✧ he actually did pretty well, you were just caught off guard
✧ “i always wondered how you’d look like this” he tells you, “and would you look at that, i knew you’d look so good”
joshua:
✧ he likes to watch when you get ready most of the time so he knew your routine for the most part
✧ his hands are confident as he works, his lips gently parted as he focuses
✧ tilts your face by gently holding your chin
✧ gets up very close to your face to put your makeup on but also to definitely fluster you (he’s evil for this)
jun:
✧ thinks watching one youtube tutorial is enough but it is in fact, not
✧ forgets how to do something as soon as he puts a dab of concealer on your face
✧ “wait, wait a minute-”
✧ he’s rewinding the video he referenced and maybe he swaps a method here and there - like jun the dot of makeup is starting to set
✧ you don’t look too bad at the end either, but he’s very relieved to be done (after an hour) as he’s spritzing your setting spray
soonyoung:
✧ get so excited, “can i pick your outfit too!”
✧ really really wants to do it well so he asks you about everything, every step of the way
✧ “is this the one they use when they get rid of my eye bags?” he asks
✧ “i have to tap the excess off right?”
✧ “what’s the difference between these two?”
✧ maybe you have to retouch a little at the end, but you’re proud of him (may have been light handed because he didn’t want to overdo it)
✧ loves it when you put on the outfit he picked and give him 360 of your look
✧ you give him a kiss on the cheek after and you leave a kiss print with your lipstick (he’s the kind of bf to not wipe it off too and he sends a selfie to the svt group chat to brag)
wonwoo:
✧ calm about the whole ordeal
✧ googles general makeup instructions and references this one article as he does your makeup
✧ he keeps looking back between the article and your face
✧ doesn’t go for anything over the top, but more or less just perfects your skin
✧ “very pretty” he comments as he assesses his work
jihoon:
✧ also does research and he’s the only member who learns how to undo a mistake
✧ he mutters to himself “wait, this is not it, wait, don’t look in the mirror right now,” as he’s scrambling for your concealer
✧ very careful hands
✧ kind of under pressure because he doesn’t want to be at fault for making you look bad
minghao:
✧ he’s so fun, he wants to do a matching look with you
✧ wants to go for something edgy, maybe some soft smokey eyeshadow
✧ winds up being a session where he does your makeup (with the most delicate hands) and you do his
✧ you also end up painting each other’s nails to add to the look
✧ easy to say both of you look very hot together
mingyu:
✧ APPALLED when you flinch away from him when he’s holding your eyeliner
✧ he’s already talking in pout when he goes “have i ever hurt you before? baby trust me”
✧ he’s so pouty from that point on and he’s even more motivated to make you pretty (well, more pretty than you already are)
✧ “here, look” he tells you, holding out a mirror so you can examine his work
✧ you gasp, “‘gyu you did so good!” he’s blushing but still a little sulky
✧ “see? i’d never hurt you! you had no reason to flinch!”
✧ “i know, i know” you assure him, taking your usual seat in his lap to wrap your arms around his neck to snuggle him. “thank you baby, i love it” (you know he’s already forgiven you when he wraps his strong arms around your waist to pull you closer)
seokmin:
✧ baby is so so gentle with you
✧ compliments you after ever step
✧ “your skin’s already so perfect i don’t have to do a lot..” he mumbles under his breath
✧ “wow this is so sparkly, your eyes are even prettier” he grins
✧ “pucker your lips for me?” he’ll ask (he takes off half of what he put on though because he cant fight the urge to peck your lips when they’re like this)
✧ squishes your cheeks when he’s done and he says “you’re so prettyyy” in that painfully adorable lovesick way he does
seungkwan:
✧ here’s our resident perfectionist — he does research thoroughly
✧ even finds some good alternatives for some of your current stuff
✧ winds up teaching you a better method for the looks you tend to go for
✧ “that’s not how i do it but-” you begin, only to be interrupted with “i thought you said i could do what i wanted! just wait, look, i’ll show you-”
✧ his lips are pursed and frankly, he’s starting to sweat because he’s passionate about getting you to look even better than you already do
✧ 10/10 look in the end, you could easily wear it out
vernon:
✧ he was surprised at your request to do your makeup but he agrees. though he does warn you it might not look great
✧ “you trust me with this?” he double checks as soon as you lay out your supplies on the desk
✧ “of course i do” this makes him grin
✧ he doesn’t look up anything but he lets you talk him through your steps and his touch is so light and a little awkward as he swipes across your eyelid
✧ he can’t hold his reactions when he messes up though, and he’s kind of like 😬 in that very specific vernon way. “i think you’re gonna wanna do this part babe” and he watches so intently as you do it
✧ amidst this though, he does learn about your process and even if he can’t do your look for you entirely, he might offer to do parts of your routine for you in the future. if you’re tired as you’re getting ready in the morning maybe he can lay your foundation for you and your concealer - the parts of your process that aren’t too intricate.
✧ future vernon maybe even offers to take off your makeup for you at the end of a day instead
chan:
✧ he believes the phrase “shoot for the moon. even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars”
✧ in hindsight, it could be poetic but he really just bites off more than he could chew
✧ rewatches the same ten seconds of a tutorial over and over again and he still doesn’t quite understand what cutting a crease means
✧ please kiss his forehead and walk him through it
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